1 comments/ 14033 views/ 0 favorites Layla Ch. 01 By: Tall_cool_one She woke with a start! It was dark in the room except for the thin thread of light, cast by the moon, which painted its way across the foot of the bed. Her body was damp with sweat. Her hands were wedged between her legs, and her fingers twitched upon her oozing sex. She trembled as the orgasm caused by her unremembered dream subsided. She willed herself, unsuccessfully, to recall the erotic nature of the dream. She knew she had suffered this dream in the past, because this was not the first time she’d been awakened from a dead sleep in the throws of a crushing orgasm. Her feelings confused her. She unconsciously began to move her fingers on her leaking outer lips, gradually increasing the pressure until her finger slid between her moist folds and into the heat of her pussy. When she realized what was happening, she exploded again, sending another wave of her woman flow onto her plunging fingers and into the sheets. Then she slept again. ------------ It was daylight when she heard her kids squabbling out in the living room. She forced her mind to clear and sat up on the edge of the bed. As per her custom, she had gone to bed wearing one of her husband’s white cotton shirts. She was still sticky between her legs. She heard a loud thump from elsewhere in the house and a wail went up from one of her offspring. ‘Damn,’ she thought. ‘Why does it always have to be me?’ Her husband was on the road again. ‘Where was he this time?’ she mused, ‘Florida?’ Seems like he spent a lot of time “Consulting” these days, and not much time here with her and the kids. He’d been gone a total of five months since the first of the year and she was getting a little edgy. If school didn’t start pretty soon, she was also going to murder a couple of kids. The howling from the front part of the house wrenched her from the bedroom and into the midst of yet another sibling conflict between the 5 year old and the 9 year old. “STOP THAT!” She shouted, stamping her foot. “You’re making me crazy!” The clock on the sofa table chimed nine times as she turned and padded for the kitchen to find a Diet Coke. Her oldest, now twenty and as handsome as any son could ever be and home from college for the summer, stood just inside the kitchen with a can extended to her in his hand. “You look like you might need this, Ma,” He said softly. She reached and took the proffered soda from him, tasting of the chilled brew. She watched as the color rose up from the collar of his shirt and turned his face a deep shade. His eyes traveled from hers down her front to her feet and back up again. She followed his eyes with hers and realized the shirt she wore was unbuttoned all the way down and she stood completely exposed to him. Her nipples turned to stone and it was her turn to blush. “Sorry,” She whispered. “The kids…….” “You’re gorgeous,” He breathed, trembling like he had the first time he saw her naked coming from the shower many years earlier. She placed the can on the counter, quickly pulled the front of the shirt together and retreated to her bedroom. By the time she closed the door and fell back against it, her sex was drenched again. Her hands came together between her legs and she pushed fingers from both hands into her flaming pussy and swiftly brought her self to a grinding orgasm. ‘Jesus Christ, Layla!’ She croaked to herself breathlessly, ‘What’s wrong with you? He’s your son!’ She nearly fainted when the phone on the bedside table jarred her back to reality. Collapsing on the bed she answered. “Izzat, y’all, Layla?” The voice on the line drawled. “Yes,” Layla gasped in response. Her chest still heaving from the effect of her recent orgasm. “Y’all all right, Honey? You sound out of breath.” It was her best friend, Lisa. “No, I’m not all right,” She answered. “I’m a complete basket case. The young ones are at it again, I had one of those dreams again last night, and Ronny just saw me naked in the kitchen. And you know who won’t be back in town for God knows how long. I don’t know what I’m doing any more.” “I’m comin’ over there, Char,” Lisa declared. The line went dead. Layla replaced the phone in its cradle and fell backward on the bed, covering her eyes with her arm as she lay back. Her feet remained on the floor. Her legs were spread, exposing her still fully lubricated pussy to anyone who might happen to open the door. Her brain blazed with the image of her son Ronny’s eyes as he took in every detail of her supple body earlier in the kitchen. She felt her fluids creeping from her slit again. She dozed. “Layla, Honey,” She first heard Lisa speaking softly and then felt her cool fingers on her thighs. “Wake up, Baby.” Layla lifted her arm from her face and then raised her head to stare into Lisa’s flashing Cajun eyes. Lisa knelt on the floor between Layla’s wide spread knees, her face only inches from her smoldering pussy. “Damn, Girl,” Lisa’s soothing voice breathed into her center, “You got it real bad, don’t ya?” “What?” Layla gasped as Lisa closed her brightly painted lips down firmly on her exposed petals and quickly drew in her breath sucking the flowing juices from within. “Oh, fuck yessssssss!” Hissed Layla, savoring the sensation of Lisa’s mouth. She jerked sharply upward when her clit reacted to the roughness of the invading tongue. Layla had never felt the pleasure of a woman’s mouth before. Although, she and Lisa had giggled and joked about it many times since they first met in high school. And Lisa had told her that she had been with several other women. This was the first encounter she had ever had with a member of the same sex, and it felt fantastic. Lisa devoured Layla’s sex. Wantonly swirling her thin tongue in and out of her turgid hole, Lisa brought Layla to a thundering climax within moments. Layla’s thighs closed against Lisa’s head and she ground her cunt savagely upward, bucking and throwing her self into yet another sexual spasm, then collapsing to the bed exhausted. Layla felt Lisa lurch forward against her, grunting from deep within. Opening her eyes, Layla looked up into the face of her son just as he plunged into Lisa from behind for the second time. Lisa gasped aloud and then pushed back against the youth who had violated her from behind. Ronny had silently crawled up behind her as she laved on Layla’s pussy, flipped her short skirt up over her hips, hooked a finger under the leg of her panties, pulled it aside and entered her in a single smooth motion, burying his cock balls deep in her pussy just as Layla violently erupted into Lisa’s sucking mouth. Lisa dropped her face against Layla’s soft stomach, grunting each time Ronny thrust into her. Layla watched in shear amazement as her son ravaged her best friend from behind. She wanted to scream for Ronny to stop what he was doing, but all she could do was to moan softly each time Lisa jerked against her. “Oh, Char,” Lisa moaned into the soft flesh of Layla’s belly. “Make me your bitch.” Ronny pounded into her with long steady strokes. His eight thick inches disappeared completely with each revolution, dragging its full length along Lisa’s hard clit sending jolting charges deep into her gut. Then she ground her face hard into Layla, clutched two handfuls sheet and tumbled into a deep blinding chasm of sexual bliss as Ronny reached for her shoulders and wedged his spewing manhood deep into her womb, filling her with a torrent of thick love milk. He clenched his teeth and forced every ounce of his strength into the expulsion of his fertile young seed into the very soul of his mother’s best friend. Then it was over. Lisa lay with her face on the soft breasts of Layla, drenched inside and out with the juices of a mother and her son. Ronny pulled his still semi erect cock from Lisa and stood up behind her. The fruit of their coupling glistened on him as he stood there barely three feet from his beautiful strawberry blond mother. A long thread of cum drooled from the tip of his prick and dropped to land on Lisa’s upturned hip. Layla slowly slid her hand down Lisa’s back and lifted the thick droplet with her long finger and brought it slowly to her lips. She savored the flavor of her son’s discharge. She swooned at the absolute insanity of what had just occurred. A thin smile crossed Ronny’s lips as he stepped back away from Layla and Lisa. Turning, he left the room quietly closing the door on his way out. Layla was dumbfounded. Lisa stirred, looking up into Layla’s sparkling blue eyes. Layla was smiling. Lisa’s bright red lipstick was smeared from her lips nearly up to her eye on the left side of her face. Lipstick was also visible on Layla’s thighs and in her naturally blond pubic patch. “What was that all about?” Layla whispered, finally coming down from the erotic plateau she had been washed upon by her friend and her own son. “Beats the hell out of jerking yourself off!” Lisa rasped. “That was my son!” Layla almost shrieked. “Oh, Honey,” Lisa soothed. “He’s got one hell of a cum cannon on him. I’m gonna have to take a tomorrow pill for sure after that load.” “My God, Lisa!” Layla wailed. “I just watched my son, fucking you like a bitch in heat while I was cumming all over your face, and you don’t have a problem with that?” Lisa slithered up farther on the bed and brought her face within inches of Layla’s. She was laying full body on top of Layla. Their pussies were pressed together. “As I see it, Girlfriend,” Lisa cooed, “There could only be a couple of very minor problems here. One of them is you keep whining about Ronny, which is silly because he just fucked me and not you. Unless of course it was you that you wanted him to be fucking, then that could be a problem. Or if one of them hot little wiggly things swimmin’ around in my pussy gets in touch with something he shouldn’t, but I’ll take care of that as soon as I get home. Besides, you’re the one who says she’s so happily married, Right?” Lisa looked straight into Layla’s eyes and kissed her full on the lips, sliding her darting tongue quickly inside. Layla’s arms went around Lisa and she ground herself against the smaller woman on top of her. Lisa broke the kiss and rolled off Layla. “Yeah, I’m married all right.” Layla offered. “So, all is not well in paradise?” Lisa probed. “He’s on the job almost all the time now.” Layla bemoaned her absent husband. “I’m dying here!” “You’re telling me you need to get laid?” Lisa queried. “God, I wake up in the night with my fingers stuffed all the way inside my pussy,” Layla breathed. “I’m horny all the time. I’ve burned up a dozen vibrators. I read porn on the internet and masturbate while perfect strangers on line tell me what they would like to do to me if I’d ever meet them. Jesus, I get so hot I can’t stand it. But it doesn’t matter what I do, I’m still not satisfied.” I huge sob escaped Layla’s lips as she burst into tears. Lisa gathered Layla into her arms and let the waterworks fly until she finally got it all out and settled back down. “And old what’s his name comes home, climbs up on ya, drops his load and goes to sleep for a few nights and then he gets lost on the job again,” Lisa surmised out loud. “That about how it goes?” “Pretty close, yeah,” Layla agreed. “I need a little intrigue in my life. Maybe a little romance now and then.” “Why don’t you ditch him?” Lisa asked. “I got four kids. He makes good money. And I really do love him,” Layla lamented. “We gotta get you fucked, Honey,” Lisa whispered. “Not Ronny,” Layla said. “No,” Lisa reassured her. “At least not yet.” --------- He slipped out of the safety of sleep. The pungent odor of cigarette smoke filled his nostrils as he adjusted his brain, attempting to determine exactly where he was at that moment. Soft light from the partially open bathroom door gave just enough illumination for him to make out the shape of a woman sitting on the edge of the bed. Her back was to him, silhouetted against the glow from the other side of the room. As reality returned, he recalled the woman from the lounge where he and his merry band were playing the night before. The smoke from her cigarette spiraled toward the ceiling as she held it firmly between her fingers. He watched as she raised it to her lips and took a deep drag, held her breath for several seconds and then tilted her head back and let the smoke float up from her mouth almost without exhaling. Her hand lowered and rested again beside her leg on the bed. His thoughts drifted back to the club and the dark haired women from the table to the left of the bandstand. She’d watched him like a lioness waiting to pounce on her prey. He recollected he was flattered when she sent the drink over to him when he went on break. Returning to the stage, he passed her table and thanked her. “Whiskey and water, thanks.” He said, climbing back up on the platform and picking up the old Fender Jazzmaster guitar. He noticed the immenseness the man she was with and hoped he had a sense of humor. A woman buying a drink for another guy, sometimes has a way of irritating those Neanderthal types and causing trouble for everybody in sight. This one didn’t have the Gentle Ben look in his eye as the guitar player thanked the lady for the drink. The guitar man kept one eye on the couple as they exchanged a few rather heated words and the big dude stood, dropped a hand full of bills on the table and made his way to the door. The bills vanished into her tiny handbag in a flash of her hand. She motioned for the waitress to bring her another whiskey and fired a long thin cigarette. The band played soft blues and some old rock and roll. The woman seemed lost in the music, but she kept the guitar player’s glass topped off whenever it was in danger of going dry. She was a handsome woman. Not very tall, maybe 5’-5” and 125 lbs. She wore a tight silver dress with a plunging neckline that fit her like a second skin, smoky stockings and silver pumps. He could see she had nothing underneath, anywhere, except her dark olive toned skin. Her breasts seemed to flow out of the deep v of her dress. The Gateway is a busy club, situated in the Vieux Carre on Bourbon Street, a couple of blocks off Canal. Usually lots of people, mostly tourists, but a few regulars frequented it. The band was from North Florida and was booked for a three week gig. This was the forth night of the first week so that made it Thursday, all things being equal. All the days and nights became the same on the road. The only difference was the layout of the stage, and the strength of the drinks, but the people all seemed to melt together into a soft blur as the booze took hold each night. Now and then a special face would float out of the crowd and catch his eye and make one night more special than the others. He remembered now how she stood up when the music had stopped and walked over to him when he came off the stage. “Grace,” She said, offering her manicured hand for shaking. The guitar player shook her hand. He recalled how cool it felt as she let the handshake linger for a few seconds. “Dave,” He said. In the dim light, her eyes seemed bottomless. Her lips were full, painted a very dark shade of crimson, and pouting. She stood straight, her breasts thrust high and proud. “Where you staying?” She asked, directly. “Bourgoyne Guest House,” Dave answered. “Just a few blocks up.” “I’m closer,” She said, softly. “The Maison de Ville, on Toulousse. We can walk.” “Where’s the gorilla?” Dave asked. “On his way back to Baton Rouge,” She replied, tucking her bag under her arm. “Shall we?” “Uh,” The guitar player hesitated. “What’s the matter, Honey?” Grace questioned. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?” “Mountain Man Jim might be a cause for some concern,” He said. She handed him a room key. “Room 323, at the de Ville. You know where it is?” “Yes,” “I’ll wait an hour for you.” She spun on her heel and walked away. “Looks like you’re gonna get lucky, Dave.” The bass player chuckled. “I’m getting to old for this shit,” Dave said. “Yeah, I hear ya. But you keep knocking ‘em down while the rest of us are sitting in the room playing with ourselves.” Drew chortled. He waited a few minutes and walked out onto the street, the old tarnished key attached to the cracked plastic fob tucked safely in his shirt pocket. Looking both ways, he crossed Bourbon Street and walked west for a block and turned south. Glancing up on Toulousse, he saw the neon sign on the front of the de Ville mid way down the first block. It was just exactly 2 AM in New Orleans. He walked the fifty or so steps down the sidewalk and turned into the lobby of the ancient hotel. The elevator was across the lobby. He mashed the button and the metal door rattled open. He turned and pushed number three and waited for the door to creak shut and he wondered as the cables above moaned in protest as they lifted the car up to the third floor. He stepped out and looked up and down the hall. It was dim and smelled of a hundred years of neglect. He walked to his left and found 323 at the far end of the corridor. He fit the key in the lock and turned it. The door swung silently inward as the latch released. The room was bathed in the yellow glow of a single bed lamp. The silver dress draped the back of a chair next to the bed. A bottle of Maker’s Mark, two paper cups and a bucket of ice sat on the table. One cup sat partially empty, the dark print of her lipstick on the rim. He heard the toilet flush. Grace stepped into the room. Except for the smoky hose and the sliver pumps, all she wore was a smile. She pointed to the bottle on the table and he poured the cups nearly full of the dark bourbon. She toasted him and he tossed his down in one shot. She sipped. Her hands went to the buttons on his shirt. She dropped the shirt on the chair with her dress. She worked the end of his belt through the buckle, pulled the button open, and zipped his fly down. She lowered herself to her knees and pulled his jeans down to the floor. He didn’t wear shorts so he too was now naked. His cock hung in a semi rigid state pointing directly at her face. Her dark lips parted and he watched her eagerly consume his full length into her mouth. She sucked him slowly, using her tongue to stimulate as she worked her lips on and off. The guitar player was 59 years old. He had long graying hair, worn in a long pony tail most of the time. He stood 6’-3” and weighed 225 lbs. He had grown thick through the middle and had a hefty belly and big hands. His face reflected the many years of alcohol consumption and the thousands of nights of standing on stage playing music for the lonely married women who craved something they could not get at home. His cock was not monstrous, but it was large enough to bring a contented sigh from the many women who had chosen to lay down with him. Grace would be no different. She released him and stood up. She took a sip from her cup and crawled up on the bed, on her hands and knees, she offered her lush body to the guitar man. He poured the paper cup full of bourbon again, tossed it down and knelt behind her on the bed. He spit on his hand and wiped it on his cock. She reached back between her legs and pulled him to her pussy they moved at the same time, she back, he forward. They came together with a thud. Then he simply fucked her until he filled her cunt with his load. The bourbon seeped into his brain then, and they slept. Now he lay there looking up at her back as she smoked. It was still dark outside. “I’m not a slut,” Grace said in a quiet soft voice. “I didn’t say you were.” Dave stated. “It’s just…..” She began. “Look, Honey,” Dave soothed. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve been here more times than you could imagine.” Layla Ch. 01 “I have to go,” She said. She stubbed the cigarette in the ashtray, stepped into the silver dress and heels, grabbed her bag and stepped to the table. She dumped a big shot of bourbon into the cup, drained it and disappeared out the door. The guitar player closed his eyes and slept again. --------- “C’mon, Honey,” Lisa urged. “Get yourself a shower. “I’m gonna call Leafa when I get home and we’re going to O’Brian’s tonight.” “I’ve got the kids,” Layla protested. “Ronald can watch the kids tonight,” Lisa scolded. “We are going on the streets tonight!” Lisa pulled Layla to her feet and danced out the door looking for Ronny. She found him in his room sitting on the side of his bed, staring down at his still cum coated pecker. He was still semi-erect. She entered and closed the door behind her. Ronny looked up. “Lisa……I…..” He stammered. “Shhh….,” She hushed him, kneeling between his legs. “You just relax now, Lover Man, and let Miss Lisa help you with this little problem you have here.” She took him in her hands and lifted his cock to her lips. Her tongue flicked out, touching the smooth helmet of his hardness. He twitched with her contact. She engulfed him, pulling him deep into her throat. Ronny gasped as she sucked him completely down to his hairy balls. Then she eased off and pulled him in yet again. Within a minute he was filling her throat with his thick sperm. He collapsed back on the bed when she let him pop from her lips. “This is going to be our little secret,” Lisa stated. “Layla might not approve of this just yet.” “I won’t breathe a word,” Ronny hissed. “Thanks, Lisa.” “We want you to baby sit for the brats tonight, Ronald.” Lisa said. “I’m taking your mother out for some R & R.” “Sure, Lisa,” Ronny said. “Anything you say.” --------- Layla stood under the hot water for a long time. The stinging spray of the water-pick causing her skin to tingle. She shampooed her strawberry blond hair and rinsed it. Then she lathered her whole body, rubbing her self all over with the huge sponge she used in the shower. She paid special attention to the tender lips of her pussy. She’d nearly rubbed herself raw over the past few days and she didn’t want to chafe. But she still burned for a hot hard cock pounding into her. How hard she had cum when Ronny had fucked Lisa right there on top of her. And his cock was so beautiful……..! ‘My God, Layla! Stop thinking about Ronny’s cock,’ She thought. ‘He’s my son!’ But she could still see the image of him standing there, cum dripping on Lisa’s ass. And his flavor when she had tasted it. Her pussy was welling again. Stepping from the shower, she toweled off and wrapped her hair up. She turned and stared at her body in the mirror on the bathroom door. She still looked good at 40. Her legs were long and shapely. She stood 5’-8” and weighed 135. She had a little belly, but after all, she’d had four kids. Her tits sagged a bit but were still full and round, with large areola and nipples that hardened at the slightest hint of a caress. Her strawberry blond hair was shortish, and went its own way without much attention. Her face was round, her eyes blue and sparkling, and her lips were full and red. Her reflection looked softly back at her from the mirror. Layla liked what she saw. But, she was still horny! She pulled her robe on and went to the living room to check on the kids. The younger children were out in the yard, and Ronny was standing in the kitchen doorway, wearing a pair of gym shorts and munching on a sandwich. Layla’s heart stopped as she made eye contact with him. “I’m sorry, Ma,” Ronny whispered. “I just……” “Ronny,” Layla said, lovingly placing her hands on his bare chest. “We’ll have to talk about this at some point, but this just is not the time.” “I know, but….” He started again. “Ronny, Please!” She asserted her motherly prerogative. “It happened. Lisa’s on cloud nine. You obviously had a wonderful morning. What else is there to say?” “I love you, Ma.” Ronny said. And he kissed her on the lips, and walked down the hall to his room. Layla stood there in shock. “This is not happening,” She said out loud. The phone rang once. Ronny answered in his room. She heard him call from down the hall and picked it up in the kitchen. “Hi, Sweetie,” A sultry voice drooled in her ear. “It’s me, Leafa.” Leafa was as whacked out as Lisa, and just as spontaneous. A sultry, buxom brunette with a flashing smile and mischief in her heart. Married to a troll of a man whom she claimed had an 11” cock. Lisa has been trying to find out for sure for half of her life to no avail. “Hi, Hon,” Layla replied, happy to hear from her. “Lisa says we’re doin’ Patty’s tonight,” Leafa announced. “Be sexy, Hon. Lisa says she’s gonna get you bred tonight.” “Jesus, Leafa,” Layla complained. “Is nothing sacred in this world?” “Not to us. You know that, Girlfriend.” Leafa giggled. “So, Hon, when do I get a chance to play with Ronny Boy?” “LEAFA!” Layla shrieked. “Have you no shame? He’s only twenty years old!” “Way I hear it, Sugar, he’s hung like John Holmes.” She giggled. “What’s the use,” Layla gasped. “You driving tonight?” “Yup, see you at 8 o’clock,” Leafa declared and hung up. Layla glanced at the clock. It said 1:40. She had errands to run and needed to pick up a few bucks at the redi-teller for tonight. She changed quickly and told Ronny to watch the others. She got back before 5 o’clock and fixed dinner for the kids before she went to get ready for her night out with the girls. She was excited, and very horny. She was damp already in anticipation of the evening’s events. She chose a white silky peasant blouse with puffy sleeves, which she wore off the shoulders, a very short black mini skirt, black lace bikini panties and an almost nothing black lace bra. Black stockings, garter and 4” spikes completed her outfit. She highlighted her eyes with eyeliner and shadow, and used shiny cranberry lip gloss. She stuck her head in Ronny’s door as she was about to leave. He looked up at her and all the color drained from his face. “What’s the matter, Ronny?” She gasped, stepping into his room. “Geez, Ma,” He whispered. “If I had a woman looked like you do right now, I’d never look at another woman again.” “Sweet talker,” Layla said, noticing the bulge forming in his shorts. “I’ll probably be late. Don’t wait up for me.” “Sure, Ma, Have a ball.” He said softly. -------- Layla heard Leafa when she leaned on the horn out front. She crossed the walk and opened the passenger door on the emerald green Lexus, and slid into the soft velvet seat beside her friend. “Damn, Girlfriend, you’re on fire tonight,” Leafa said. “The sharks’ll be circling for sure.” Layla’s skirt had crawled up past her nylon tops, exposing a lot of creamy soft thigh. Leafa’s hand crept across the seat and she stroked a long burgundy nail along Layla’s leg, bringing goose flesh to her leg. “Whoa, Girl,” Layla hissed, immediately feeling the stirrings begin in her loins. “Let’s us get to the club before you get all fuzzy on me.” Leafa giggled and spun the wheel and floored the pedal. They drove to Lisa’s apartment and found her just stepping out into the parking lot as they pulled in. She had on a dark blue one piece dress that clung to Lisa’s petite body. And clear platform shoes. Lots of make up and bright pink, fuck my mouth, lipstick. She climbed in the back. Leafa, as usual was her same stark gothic self, all in black with milky white makeup and her trademark black die job in her hair. Her big soft tits fought to get out of her shirt and her shoes were kind of cloddy looking but she was stunning. The drive from St. Claude Heights into the French Quarter took the better part of an hour and as luck would have it, they found a parking spot just up the block from Pat O’Brian’s Club. A quick check of the make up and they were out of the car and standing outside the patio entrance to the famous bar. The bouncer looked them over, recognized Leafa, who immediately whispered something in his ear, and then ushered them inside without collecting the customary cover charge. This meant of course, that Leafa was probably obligated to give her friend on the door a blow job at some point during the evening. “What’d you tell him?” Lisa asked. “I told him I’d be out to see him later,” She grated. “Cunt,” Lisa giggled. “Look who’s talking, Slut,” Leafa grated. “Which one of us carries a strap-on in her purse for those very special occasions?” Lisa flipped Leafa the bird as the trio entered the smoke filled night club. A jazz band was playing up on the stage at the far end of the room. The dance floor was partially filled with people. All the tables at the back of the room were full already so they worked their way down the side of the room to an empty table right below the piano player. He immediately sized them up and shot them a toothy smile. A dumpy waitress with a large wad of gum in her jaw took their drink order and vanished with Layla’s fifty dollar bill, returning with her change which was mostly ones and a couple of fives. Layla deposited the lump of small bills in her tiny bag and sat on it. Layla loved to dance. She watched the couples on the dance floor and then looked around the room to see if there were any singles she could ask to dance. She felt a touch on her shoulder and turned to see a smiling freckled face over her shoulder. The young man, Tibideaux, asked her to dance. Tibideaux was an excellent dancer and soon Layla had been swept far away from the table where her friends sat and into the thick of the crowd on the floor. They danced until the band took a break, before they returned to the table. Lisa was sitting on Layla’s purse, and Leafa had disappeared for the moment. Layla introduced Tibi to Lisa and excused her self to the powder room. Lisa offered Tibi a seat at the table, which he anxiously accepted. By the time Layla had returned, Lisa had her hand in Tibi’s lap under the table. Layla returned and rolled her eyes when she saw what was going on. “Buy ya a drink, Sexy Lady?” A smooth voice crooned in her ear. Layla turned and stared up into the toothy face of the handsome piano player. “Sure,” Layla said, “Why not? Hurricane. What’s your name?” “My friends call me Plink,” He answered, motioning for a waitress. “Want to be my friend?” “Hi, Plink,” Layla cooed, “My friends call me Layla Baby. I’d love to be your friend.” “I’ll see you next break then?” He questioned handing her the huge drink. “I’ll be right there,” She said, pointing to her chair just a few feet away. Layla’s pussy had begun to moisten already. She sat and watched as Plink started to play through the next set. Two more Hurricanes appeared before he returned at the conclusion of his set. Layla was feeling the buzz from the strong drinks and she felt giddy when Plink came to the table, reached for her hand, pulled her up and lead her away from her friends. He steered her to the far end of the room where a wide spiral staircase led up to a large party room on the second floor of O’Brian’s. A wedding reception was just winding down and the club staff was busy cleaning up the trash from the highly charged party. Plink guided Layla past the tables to the bar at the opposite end of the room from the stairs. Most of the activity was now at the front of the room and he and Layla crossed behind the bar where they were mostly unnoticed by the rest. Plink turned her around and pulled her close to him. Layla was a bit startled at first but quickly stretched her hands behind his head and pulled his face down to hers. Their lips met in a hungry open mouthed kiss. Plink’s hands found the soft cheeks of her butt within seconds and he had her skirt pulled up and a finger pressing the thin lace of her panties firmly against her tiny pucker. Layla’s panties were soaked. Plink worked his digit farther under her and inside the leg band, slipping easily into her wet pussy. Layla’s orgasm was swift and strong, leaving her breathless. She groped between then for his fly and fought with the stubborn zipper. Just as she was about to conquer her objective, a voice called from across the room. “Plink! We’re on,” He beckoned. “You got all night for that shit!” “Sorry, Hon.” Plink gasped. “Maybe later, huh?” “Yeah, Sure,” Layla smiled, pulling her skirt back over her butt and lining up her panties. ‘Fuck me, this can’t be happening!’ Layla thought. When she returned to the table, Leafa and Lisa were standing there, waiting for her. “We’re out of here,” Lisa demanded. “That kid was only seventeen and could have gotten us busted. Leafa’s buddy just threw him out.” Leafa’s make up was a bit out of adjustment too. Layla surmised she must have gone out back with the dude from the front door and taken a shot in the throat for the cover charge. Layla had her own problems. Her pussy was leaking so profusely, it was soaking the tops of her stockings. They squeezed through the crowd exiting out to the front sidewalk. “They’ve got a really tight band from Jacksonville, Florida at the Gateway,” Leafa stated, pointing up Bourbon Street toward the east. “Just a couple of blocks up that way. Let’s walk.” -------- The three friends walked slowly up Bourbon Street. New Orleans is hot in August, and this night was no exception. They peered in the store front windows as they walked, giggling from the effects of the alcohol already consumed. It was nearly midnight when they entered the blues club. They found a table close to the front and ordered Hurricanes all around. As advertised, the band was splendid. All the players were older guys, over fifty and all expert in their craft. The music was rich and dreamy, funky and sweet, downright gut wrenching at times, but always tight. Layla clued in on the big man on guitar as soon as she saw him and heard the way he played. His intensity was terrifying. Each time it came his turn to play a solo, he would close his eyes, lay his head back or to the side and let his fingers dance over the strings. Each song told its own story. No two tunes sounded alike. Each had a personality of its own. His voice had a soulful rasp that drifted out over the room like a cloud, and then vanished over the horizon. The words told the story of the blues. Pain and suffering, lost love, heartache, drunken nights and cold hearts. Then a love song would fill you up again and make you warm inside. Layla floated into the music and almost missed it when they stopped playing. The house lights came on and the players stepped down from the stage and began casing their instruments. The big man carried his guitar to the storage room and returned to find Layla and her friends talking to Drew, the bass man. Layla turned as he approached. She looked into his tired eyes and smiled. He smiled back. The guitar man wore a full silver beard, neatly trimmed. His jeans were kind of baggy and his shirt was black with blue and silver flames burning up from the bottom. His belly reminded her of Santa Claus. “Hi, I’m Layla,” She said softly, extending her hand to the guitar man. He took her hand, bent slightly at the waist and raised her hand to his lips and kissed it softly on the back of her fingers. His lips lingered just a few seconds longer than she expected. “Why, yes you are,” The guitar man said in his soft southern voice. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ma’am. Care to join me for a night cap?” Layla melted in her panties. The big man motioned for her to take a seat at the very end of the bar where it was dimly lit and quiet at this time of night. He ordered whiskey and water for himself and she asked for a Diet Coke. He raised an eyebrow but she explained that she might have had enough to drink already and she wanted to remember the rest of the night, no matter what might happen. “What ever could happen?” The guitar man asked. “You just never know,” She replied. Layla sat with her elbows on the bar, her chin in her hands and gazed at the old guitar man. She asked questions about his music. He told her stories about the road and places he had been. Leafa and Lisa brought her back to reality announcing it was after two and time for them to go home. Layla was crushed. “I’ll grab a cab, you go on ahead,” Layla insisted. “You know we won’t leave you here by yourself,” Lisa demanded. Layla got up, walked her friends to the door, and assured them she was old enough to get herself safely home when she wanted to. Lisa and Leafa reluctantly departed, leaving Layla in the clutches of the guitar player. She returned to the bar, regaining her perch on the stool next to the swarthy man. They chatted for a few minutes about nothing. At three o’clock, the bartender finally ordered them to get out so he could close up. They giggled and made their way out the front of the deserted building. Bourbon Street, usually thriving with tourists and all other types of humanity, was nearly deserted at this hour. “What’s your name?” She asked. “Dave,” he stated, reaching to take her hand in his as they strolled slowly up the street, “Yours?” “Layla,” She replied. “Pretty name for a beautiful lady,” He said. She could feel the heat from the sidewalk drifting up her legs. Or was it from the sidewalk? “Thanks,” She whispered. “You want another drink?” Dave asked. “I don’t think so.” She answered. “You married?” He asked. After a short pause, she asked, “Does it matter?” “Only to you,” He said. He stopped walking. Turned her to face him and nodded to the building across the street. A sign carefully lettered in gold identified the building as The Bourgoyne Guest House. “My stop,” He said. Layla stretched up on her toes, put her hands behind the big man’s head and pulled his face down to hers. Her lips met his and they touched briefly before parting. “Mine too,” She whispered, pulling his face back to hers. The kiss lasted for a full minute. Her tongue wrestling with his. She could feel his cock lengthen against her belly as they kissed. He took her hand and led her across the street and into the boarding house. They climbed the steps to the second floor and walked half way down the outside balcony to the door numbered 13. “Looks like this might be my lucky night,” Layla quipped as Dave pushed the door inward and groped for the light switch. Dave’s room was actually two rooms. A sitting area in front with a compact kitchenette and a bedroom to the rear with the bathroom on the left. Two guitar cases stood in a corner. A half empty bottle of Maker’s Mark stood on the counter by the little sink. Layla dropped her purse on the coffee table in front of the sofa. She stood just inside the door while Dave crossed the room to turn on another light. The room was cozy. Layla felt safe with Dave. Like she was out on a date with her daddy. ‘God,’ She thought. ‘I haven’t thought about daddy in years.’ Dave straightened and turned to face Layla from across the room. They stood eight feet apart. Layla placed her hand on the desk next to her to steady herself and raised first one foot and then the other, removing her high-heeled shoes. Then she brought her fingers to the top button of her blouse and slowly began to unbutton it from the top to the bottom. Shrugging her shoulders, she slipped the blouse down over her arms and dropped it to the floor behind her feet. Reaching down, she pulled her skirt around so the zipper came to the front and tugged it down. The skirt fluttered to the floor. She stepped out of it and stood in her black lacy bra, panties, garter belt and hose. Dave slowly pulled off his shirt and lowered his pants to the floor. He wore no under ware so he now stood there naked. Layla Ch. 01 Layla carefully lowered herself to her knees and crawled the short distance across the carpeted floor and stopped with her face directly in front of Dave’s thick manhood. Reaching up, she took him in her fingers, lifting him up. Her tongue extended from her dark painted lips and made contact with his ball sack, far below. Layla drew her warm tongue along the bottom of his balls and upward along the entire length of his cock, raising herself up on her knees slowly as she progressed higher. Reaching the summit, she pulled him gently downward, closing her lips around his crown and drawing him deep into her moist mouth. Her face descended until he watched her forehead press against his big belly. He felt her swallow around him. Then she withdrew to the very tip, coming completely off of him but always leaving her tongue in contact with the very tip. Then again she took him in to the root. Slowly, taking perhaps fifteen or twenty seconds for each repetition, she repeated the exercise. More than a dozen times. Dave watched in fascination as the gorgeous blond haired woman made love to his cock. She stopped, turned her face up to gaze at him. Their eyes locked for several seconds. He reached his hands and placed them on each side of her face, gently indicating she should stand. As she stood, he reached behind her and unsnapped her bra, freeing her soft full tits. He seated her on the sofa, pulling the table away. Carefully he unsnapped her garter snaps, and rolled the dark stockings from her legs. Next the garter belt and panties fell prey to the guitar man. He pulled her forward to the edge of the sofa, spreading her legs wide apart exposing her soft furry mound. Dave leaned close, breathing in her scent as he prepared to feed on her sweet nectar. Carefully, he parted the soft hair with his fingers baring her swollen pink labia. His tongue swept over her, bringing a quick squeak from her slack mouth. Then he lashed at her with his tongue, parting her flesh and making contact with the sensitive trigger cradled within. Then he covered her with his mouth and drove his tongue as far into her as he could reach. Layla thundered skyward and exploded in a shower of sparkling light as her release ripped through. She flooded Dave’s mouth with the honey of her sex. Dave lapped at her center sending yet another wave surging through her. Layla trembled as Dave continued to minister to her frenzied pussy. She lost count of the times he sent the sensations raging through her body. ‘This guy knows how to eat pussy!’ She thought to herself. “I need your cock in me, Dave,” Layla gasped. “I need to feel you inside of me.” Dave picked Layla up and laid her on the bed. She spread her legs wide and watched as Dave kneeled between them and leaned over her guiding his hard cock to her soaked cunt. Then he was inside of her, pushing ever deeper into her tight canal. Slowly at first then with ever increasing intensity, he ravaged her hole. Until he was slamming into her with ferocity like Layla had never in her life experienced. She wrapped her legs behind him, pulling each time he lunged. Their bodies rocked together until Dave could hold back no longer. He erupted in a blinding climax, throwing Layla into still another searing orgasm. He filled her to overthrowing with thick milky goo. They cried out in unison as they went over the edge. Moaning and gasping for air as the final spasms of their lust racked their sweat covered bodies. He rolled over onto his back, carrying her with him. Cradling her in his arms, his cock still buried in her oozing pussy, they succumbed to fatigue, and slept. Layla Ch. 02 Layla felt the guitar player stir in his sleep beneath her. His breathing was slow. He snored softly. She could feel the heat of his flaccid cock, which remained tucked inside of her cum filled pussy. She gently flexed her sheath around him, trying to keep him from slipping away from her. She felt him swell slightly as she applied the soft pressure. She clenched him again and felt him lengthen perceptibly. His breathing increased slightly as she continued to milk on him with her hot cunt. She lifted her head and stared at his face in the dim light of the boarding house bedroom. A soft smile eased across his lips as his shaft continued to respond to her pulses. Layla extended her tongue and flicked his hairy chest. She searched for and found his nipple and closed her soft lips over it, sucking lightly. "If you're trying to get me horny, it's working," Dave whispered. "I thought it might be by the way you're growing inside of me," She answered. Dave flexed inside of her, his cock extending still deeper into her already cum drenched cavity. Other than Layla's tongue and lips on his nipple, the only part of either of them that moved was the flexing of their loins. Dave had grown to his full proportion within her. She remained securely wrapped around his cock. Their breathing had become more rapid. Layla pushed down on him with increased intensity as he started to push up into her. They began a mutual easy humping motion, which gradually grew longer and stronger as their passion built. Layla started to rotate her hips in small circles as Dave eased his prick in and out with greater determination. "Jesus, I need this so bad," Layla hissed. "Please keep doing what you're doing to me." "Just relax and let the old man do his magic," Dave whispered in her ear. Dave's cock was dragging firmly back and forth across her erect love trigger, sending intense currents flashing through her body. Her orgasm started quickly and lasted a long while. Dave kept a steady beat while she rode it out. Then she returned again to match his undulations, rocking to and fro on top of him. "Lay still, Baby," Dave told her. "And just feel me inside of you." She did as he instructed her to do, while he continued to rock up into her from below. Each time he pushed up, he would flex his cock, threading it firmly against her cervix. The sensations were so thrilling that she quickly climaxed again, sending yet another flood of her female ejaculate flowing around his intruding phallus and seeping between their already slippery bodies. Four times, Layla erupted on top of him. The wet sucking sounds of their lust filled the ancient room. The odor of their seeping sex fluids and sweaty bodies filled her nostrils. Pheromones permeated the air around them. Then Layla felt him grow steel stiff and extend to an unimaginable depth. He pushed into her and held her high off the bed. She felt the scorching heat of his man-seed as it spewed into her womb, so far inside her quaking belly. They lay together again. ---------- Reality returned slowly to the sated woman. The grey light of morning had crept upon the dusty curtains covering the window beside the bed. Layla could hear the cars moving on the street below. She pulled her pussy off his cock and heard it plop on his stomach as it slipped free of her clutching hole. Rising to her knees, she felt a thick flow of ejaculate drool from her open lips and looked down as it pooled next to the big man's cock, then drained down past his balls onto the sheets. She retreated to the bathroom and quickly washed. The clock on the bedside stand warned it was 6:15 AM. Layla had stayed out much longer than she had anticipated and knew she must get her little fanny home before the kids woke to her absence. Dave was sitting on the side of the bed when she stepped out of the bathroom. She quickly found her clothes and dressed hurriedly. "What's the big rush?" Dave questioned. "My kids," She muttered. "I gotta get back home before they wake up." "Will I see you again?" He asked. "We're at the Gateway for two more weeks." "I don't know," Layla grunted, pushing her feet into her shoes. "We'll see what happens." Grabbing her purse from the floor by the door, she walked over to the guitar man and kissed him softly on the lips, turned and left without another word. Fortunately, she saw a cab and hailed him from the balcony. He was waiting with the door open when she came out of the boarding house. She gave the cabbie her address and slumped into the back seat of the musty smelling cab. Her mind raced with the events of the past thirty-six hours. First the dream, then the encounter with Lisa and Ronny, and then the near miss with the piano player and then the double-header with Dave, filled her swirling head with eroticisms she had never imagined. Suddenly she felt herself becoming wet again. 'My God, Layla,' She thought. 'What's happening to you?' "That'll be $24.55, Sweetheart," The cabbie announced, braking in her driveway. She snapped back to real life, handed him $30.00, and rushed into the house. All was quiet. Layla heaved a sigh of relief and tiptoed down the hallway to her bedroom door. "You're out kinda late, weren't you?" A soft voice questioned just as she prepared to close her door. Layla spun and locked eyes with Rachel, her eighteen-year-old daughter, who stood in the bathroom doorway across the hall. Rachel smiled at her mother. Layla was unaware that Rachel had spent the night before hanging out with her brother, Ronny, who had filled her in on all the details of the previous days activities. Layla's heart stopped beating for several seconds. Her whole world was suddenly becoming very complicated. "I....um....Rachel....I...." Layla was having difficulty finding her thoughts. "Get some rest, Ma." Rachel said. "You can tell me all about it later." Layla closed the door and leaned against it. Her chin fell to her chest and a great sob surged from deep within. Tears welled in her eyes and she gasped for breath as the emotion ripped through her body. Falling on the bed, she let it all out, bawling into the bed covers so as not to wake the rest of the house. -------- The ringing of the telephone on the nightstand wrenched her from sleep. It stopped ringing before she could reach for it. She heard a tapping on the door. "Momma, it's Daddy," Cindy, her youngest daughter squawked through the bedroom door." Layla picked up the receiver, fighting for consciousness, "Hello, Honey!" "What the matter with you? You sick?" Gene barked into the phone. "Lisa, Leafa and I went out for a drink last night," Layla defended herself. "And?" He questioned. "I was out late and slept in. So what?" She rasped. "Forget it! I'm coming in for a couple of days, there's a storm headed for Florida and they're telling all the non residents to go home." He said. "I'll see you sometime Sunday." "Okay, Sweetie, I'll look forward to it." She said tiredly. "You don't have to get all excited," He grated. "It'll only be for a couple of days until the storm passes." "I love you, Gene." Layla stated, "See you on Sunday." He hung up without a reply. Layla dropped the receiver back on the hook and flopped back on the bed. Her mind wandered back to the night before. She recalled the piano player's hands on her wet panties. And the big guitar player's hot cock shooting her full of scalding hot cum. Suddenly the guilt and remorse she'd felt earlier was gone. The phone rang again. Layla answered it. "So tell me, how are you feeling this morning?" Lisa asked. "I feel just fine," Layla answered. "Well?" Lisa asked. "Are you going to tell me about it or not?" "I'll come over there later," Layla said. "The walls have ears around here." "I can't wait," Lisa confessed. Layla showered and put on a pair of faded cut-offs that bunched tight up into her pussy, and a beige tank top that fit like skin. Ronny stared at her in disbelief when she told him she was going over to Lisa's dressed like that. She told him she'd be back in an hour and drove her BMW sedan over to Lisa's apartment. Layla spent the next hour reliving the carnal events of the night before with Lisa. Lisa sat with her hands wedged between her thighs; hanging onto every word her friend spoke describing the time she'd spent with Dave, the guitar player from Florida. "Are you going to see him again?" Lisa asked. "God, I don't know," Layla said. "Gene's coming home for a couple of days. And Rachel caught me coming in at seven o'clock this morning. I've got to talk to her about that." "She makes me hot," Lisa proclaimed. "Who doesn't make you hot?" Layla snapped. "Gene," Lisa answered, acidly. "Gene's all right," Layla said. "He's just too dedicated to his job. And without the money, it would really be a bummer around our house. Besides, for all his faults, I love him." "Oh?" Lisa queried, "Is that the reason you were out getting your brains fucked out by some stranger last night?" "I don't know what's come over me," Layla whined. "All I can think about is sex, anymore. Jesus, Lisa, my pussy gets wet for no reason. I go on line and get hooked up instant messaging with guys I've never met or even know what they look like and I talk to them about suckin' them off and God only knows what all else." "Fun isn't it?" Lisa giggled. "Oh for crying out loud, Lisa," Layla gasped. "Can't you be serious for even a minute?" "I am being serious," Lisa promised. "I do it all the time too!" "You do?" Layla asked, astounded at her friend's admission. "Of course, Silly," Lisa answered, smiling. "I sit naked in front of my computer, frigging myself with one of my vibrators or whatever else is handy and absolutely drench the seat under me telling some dude I'd fuck him senseless if we ever met. What's so wrong with that?" "But, what about your boyfriend?" Layla questioned. "Aren't you doing him?" "Sure, but why not take advantage of whatever comes along?" Lisa continued. "It can't hurt anybody as long as you don't go out and do it with some real freak, can it?" "You mean like the guitar guy?" Layla asked, dejectedly. "Did he hurt you?" Lisa asked. "No." "Did you enjoy it?" "Yes." "Well?" "He was a mind-bender!" Layla sighed. "I was totally fucked out when I got home this morning. And Rachel ruined the whole thing when she saw me coming in." "Why?" "Because, I felt dirty for cheating on Gene." Layla admitted. "But the sex was great?" Lisa probed. "The sex was fantastic," Layla admitted. "So then I am to assume you'll be visiting the guitar man again, soon?" Lisa smirked. "I suppose you could make that assumption, if you'd like." Layla said. "Can I ask you a question?' "Sure." "Why are you sitting with your hands between your legs?" Layla giggled. "Because, I'm totally flooded from talking about all this sexy stuff and I'm dying to get myself off as soon as you leave." Lisa said. "Me too, see?" Layla said, spreading her legs so Lisa could see the dark crotch of her cut-offs, which nestled tightly into the lips of her aching pussy. Lisa stood up and reached for Layla's hand, pulling her to her feet and toward the door to her bedroom. "Time to get naked and do something about this," Lisa purred, stripping out of her shorts and halter-top. She turned as Layla finished shucking her drawers, and stood back up straight. The two friends stood facing each other merely inches apart. Electricity and heat filled the space between them. As if on cue, they moved together in a scalding kiss, falling to the bed. Arms and legs wrapped them together in a fierce embrace. Layla's thigh pushed up onto Lisa's pussy, instantly becoming smeared with her discharge. Lisa pushed her hand between them and threaded two fingers deep in Layla's cunt, searching for her clit. Layla went off within seconds of contact, stiffening and issuing a long growl as her orgasm gripped her. Lisa followed within seconds. "I want to taste you," Layla gasped. They untangled and Lisa swung her leg over Layla's face and presented her wet pussy to her friend. Layla reached up and pulled her down, covering her smoothly shaved sex with her mouth. She jammed her tongue deep into Lisa, just as Lisa crushed her face into Layla's wide-open hole. All reason was lost to the act of passion as the two forty-year-old women gave in to the attraction of the other. For more than an hour they lavished each other with fingers and tongues, until at last, all energy had waned and they lay resting in each other's arms on the bed. "Sure beats the hell out of jerkin' off!" Lisa finally whispered. Layla giggled. "I think that was my first time with a woman." "I trust it won't be your last," said Lisa. Layla giggled again. "I gotta get my ass home. My kids have probably torn the house down." They kissed hotly at the door, as Layla departed. Lisa went back to the bedroom, and pulled a long, thick, pink rubber dildo from the drawer in the night stand, lubed it quickly from a bottle of Wet, and flopped back on the bed, cramming the huge fake dick deep in her pussy. Closing her eyes, she imagined Ronny was connected to the cock inside of her and swiftly blossomed into another hard orgasm. "You gotta try him, Layla." Lisa said aloud, to herself. "Your son will take you places you've only dreamed of going." --------- Layla steered the shiny Beemer through the light traffic from Lisa's apartment back to her house on Sinclair Street. The chilled air from the air conditioning vent under the steering wheel drifted up between her legs, turning the wet denim of her cut-offs icy cold. She shivered as she drove, her mind wandering back to the night before and the way she felt when the piano player had felt her up. And the rapture she felt when Dave's hard cock exploded inside of her. The thin strip between her legs remained soaked as she drove. Stopping when she pulled up in front of her garage door, Layla killed the engine and sat in the warming car for a long half hour, composing her thoughts, before entering her home. It was quiet in the house. She heard music from down the hall and surmised that there was life in the house and all was well. Making her way to her room, she closed the door, undressing and hurrying into the shower. The scalding water seared her skin and relaxed her. Lathering, she washed Lisa's scent from her body. All through her shower, her mind raced with a myriad of carnal pictures of herself and her sexual adventures of the previous two days and nights. She stood dripping after she had turned the water off. Toweling dry took many minutes, as she seemed to be operating in slow motion. The banging on her bedroom door thrust her back into the present. "Ma, we need some money for the movies." Duane, her nine-year-old son, announced as he burst through the door. "Duane!" Layla shrieked, clutching her towel around her still naked body. Duane stopped dead still in his tracks, staring at his mother. "In my purse, Brat!" Layla grumbled. "Take a twenty and make yourself scarce, Pronto!" Duane grabbed the bill from her purse on the dresser, and charged out the door into the hall. He collided head on with Ronny. "I just saw ma's butt!" He blurted out, racing for the front door. "I'm gonna break your neck, Duane!" Layla howled. Duane's raucous laughter could be heard from out in the yard. "Rough night, Ma?" Ronny asked, smiling from ear to ear. "Um....yeah....sort of," She stammered. "Rachel told me what time you came in," He said. Layla heaved a great sigh and stood staring directly into her handsome son's eyes. Ronny was still smiling. "Rachel should maybe learn to keep her big mouth shut," Layla snapped. "I don't need her permission to come and go around here." "Things cool with you and dad?" He asked softly. "Ronny, I don't think this is the time or place to talk about this," She insisted. "Look, Ma," He said. "What you do is your business. If the old man ain't takin' care of things, I understand. He's always on the road. I don't know why you've waited this long." "I love your dad. I just get so freaking horny some times." She whispered. He wrapped his strong arms around her and hugged her tightly. He could sense her nakedness beneath the towel she held in front of her. His hands dropped to the smooth cheeks of her butt and he squeezed her gently. "If I had a woman who looked like you in my life, there's no way I'd ignore her needs." He said. Layla pushed up against him and kissed him lightly on the lips, "Easy, Big Fella. I'm your mother, remember?" She could feel his thick member pushing against her belly and shivered. She stepped back, gently pushing him out of the room and closing the door. Layla sat on the bed trembling. ---------- "What was that all about?" Rachel asked as Ronny stood facing the closed door. She stood just behind him in the dim hallway. Ronny turned to face her, his hard cock making a huge lump in his shorts. Rachel's eyes grew wide with wonder when she saw her brother's erection. "Damn," She whispered. "What's up with that?" "Can't help it, Sis," Ronny sighed. "I've seen ma naked a couple of times lately, and every time I do I get a boner. She's hot!" "And she's been fucking around on dad." Rachel stated. "How do you feel about that?" "Given the chance, I'd add a little incest to her list of sins!" He smiled. Rachel stepped close to Ronny and reached down to cup his balls under the still prominent bulge in his shorts. Her other hand crept around his neck and she stretched up to kiss her older brother firmly on the mouth. "We could always create our own incest," Rachel whispered, breaking away from the prolonged kiss. Rachel kneaded his balls gently, then, she ran her hand slowly up the length of his pulsing erection. Her fingers found the elastic at the top of his shorts and inched their way inside. She pushed down until Ronny's cock filled the palm of her searching hand. His cock head oozed a trail of thick pre-cum onto her skin as she reached farther down along his shaft. "I think ma would have a stroke if she caught us like this," Ronny gasped as Rachel started to slowly jack his cock inside of his shorts. "Then let's go in my room where she won't catch us," Rachel purred. "You can't be serious!" Ronny whispered, gruffly. "Oh, I'm very serious," Rachel, insisted. "After watching Lisa vacuum you dry yesterday, all I can think about is your cock in my pussy." "How did you know about that?" Ronny gasped? "I was laying out in the yard in the sun, and I heard her come into your room," Rachel began. "Your window was wide open and I was right under it on the patio. I heard her tell you how she was going to take care of your little problem, Lover Man. And I when I heard you groan so loud, I just had to peek in the window. That's when I saw her sucking on you big schlong, Lover Man. And that's when I decided I wanted some of it shoved in me." Ronny groaned again, as Rachel slowly rubbed his rock hard dick. "Either that, or I'm tellin' ma Lisa was blowin' ya in your room yesterday, Lover Man." Rachel concluded. "And besides, this ain't a little problem, this is major meat and I want some, NOW!" "Geez, Rach," Ronny wheezed, "What if ma finds out?" "Then we do her like you and Lisa did yesterday, and everything will be great," She said. "Anyway, you do want to fuck her, don't you?" "Well ya, but....." Ronny stammered. "Then, slip me some pork and we'll ambush her together after while," Rachel purred in his ear. "You better stop jerkin' me now, then," Ronny said. "Or there won't be no slippin' it to ya after I lose my nuts in your hand." Rachel snatched her hand out of his shorts, just as the door to Layla's bedroom swung open and she stared at them from the doorway. Layla Ch. 02 "What are you two doing in the hallway?" Layla questioned. "Nothing........." Rachel blurted, rolling her fingers into a fist so her mother wouldn't see her cum slick palm. "We were just.... like.... talking...." "Judging from Ronald's condition, I'd have to say the conversation must have been quite interesting!" Layla commented, stepping past them and heading for the living room. The siblings watched as their mother, wearing a nearly transparent satin caftan, swept past them and around the corner into the other room. Rachel jumped away from her brother, dashed into her room and quickly closed the door. Ronald stood in the dim hallway, his cock still fully erect. "Ronald, come in here," Layla called from the living room. Ronny hesitated for just a few seconds, staring down at his bulging shorts. "Now, Please!" Layla insisted. Ronny's steps were slow and deliberate as he advanced toward his doom in the other room. Rounding the corner, he saw his mother sitting on the sofa, facing directly at him. Her legs were crossed, and her thin garment was parted revealing her sculptured legs nearly all the way to her waist. Her heavy soft tits, with their dark areola and erect nipples, were clearly visible through the thin robe. Ronny stopped with his toes inches from hers and stood with his chin on his chest. His cock strengthened to even greater hardness as his eyes traveled from Layla's fire red toe nails up her legs to the juncture of her thighs, and farther yet to stare at her gorgeous breasts. A dark wet stain was growing through his shorts where the head of his pulsing cock pressed outward. Layla's eyes focused on the growing spot. "Just exactly what the hell is going on in this house, Ronald?" Layla asked in a wavering voice. "What do you mean, Ma?" Ronald questioned, his eyes glued to his mother's tits. "I mean, when did you find it necessary to sexually assault one of my friends?" Layla asked, calmly. "It just happened," Ronny whispered. "You were there." "I know I was there, that's my point," She countered. "Why did you come into my room?" "The door was open. Lisa was eating you out. Her butt was stuck in the air and she wasn't wearing panties." Ronald pleaded. "I just got hard and nobody objected when it happened. I'm sorry. And then when she came to my room later, I figured, everything was all right." "She came to your room later?" Layla gasped. "So that's what she meant." "About what?" Ronny asked. Layla's hand rose from the arm of the sofa and her fingers traced a line along the length of Ronny's cock and stopped when they rested on the ever widening wetness at his cock head. "Now, tell me about you and your sister." Layla said, in a nearly inaudible voice. "There is no me and my sister," He answered. "But there almost was and there might be in the future." "Ronald," Layla began, "You had better be careful. You've been wandering around this house with a stiff pecker for two entire days." "I know, Ma," Ronny said. "And every time I see you, you're either naked, or almost naked, and it's driving me crazy. And now, Rachel is getting into the act. What do you want me to do?" Layla reached for the elastic band at the top of Ronny's shorts and pulled downward until his raging cock stood free. Her fingers curled around his shaft, slowly moving up and down his length. Within a few strokes, he erupted, sending a long thick stream of cum hurtling through the air and landing across his mother's crossed thighs. Again and again, he pulsed, sending eight long threads of man milk onto her exposed flesh, criss-crossing her legs from her knees to her belly. Slowly the thick fluid began to flow downward and pool in the crease where her crossed legs disappeared into her pussy hair. "I want you to relax," Layla whispered. "Your father is coming home tomorrow, for a few days, and you can't be walking around with a woody the whole time he's home. And I want you to tell Rachel to cool it too. Okay?" "Sure, Ma, I understand," Ronny answered, gasping for breath after his monster money shot on Layla's legs. "But we're going to have to talk about a few things after Quick Draw McGraw goes back on the job." "Don't talk about your dad like that," She scolded. "Even if it probably is the truth. Now go get a cold shower and chill out for a while." Layla watched Ronny leave the room and then she looked down into her lap at the flood of her son's cum that had puddled just above her cunt. She dipped her fingers into the milky goo and brought them to her mouth. Over and over she dipped them and sucked them dry until there was no more left. She grew intoxicated from the flavor of her son's discharge. Carefully, she uncrossed her legs and spread them apart uncovering her aching pussy. Her hand crept downward until her fingers made contact with her distended clit, sending her immediately into a bone jarring orgasm, which lasted for nearly a full minute before she slumped back into the cushions of the sofa in a cold sweat. 'I'm losing it,' She thought to herself. 'I've gotta get it together before I do something I'm going to regret.' Layla showered and dressed so that her body was totally covered and none of her children could see any part of her that might be considered sexy. Ronny seemed sullen and disappointed all during dinner. Rachel kept taking sideways glances at Ronny and tried to make foot contact under the table. Ronny avoided her like the plague. It was all Layla could do to keep from laughing but she could only imagine how uncomfortable her oldest son must have felt with the younger kids there and just having had his mother jack him off in the living room a couple of hours earlier, and his sister making a direct frontal charge on him. He finally finished his dinner and excused himself to his room to escape her advances. Rachel dropped her fork and pushed her chair back from the table to follow her brother. "Rachel, I think you should stay at the table for a few minutes, I have something to say to you," Layla said in a firm tone. "Duane, you and Cindy are excused." The younger siblings beat a hasty retreat out the back door into the yard. Rachel sat, holding the edge of the table firmly with both hands. "I can't imagine what in the world has come over you and Ronald," Layla began. "It's like you're both in heat, or something!" "What about you?" Rachel countered. "You stay out all night and then come in here smelling like a bar or something." "I'm sorry you found out about that, Honey," Layla whispered. "But I'm still the adult here and I don't need you keeping track of my comings and goings." "Somebody should," Rachel whined. "Rachel, that will be quite enough," Layla insisted. "Now what's with you and Ronald?" "Me and Ronald, what about you and Ronald, Ma?" Rachel quizzed. "And what about you and Lisa and Ronald? All I did was rub his pecker in the hall way. Y'all were rutting like pigs yesterday. And how about this morning when you came in looking like you'd been screwing all night?" Layla slumped in her chair, "I've never done anything like that before in my life, or been with a woman before. Either. And now my son wants to have sex with me. What next?" "So does your daughter," Rachel whispered. "So does your daughter, what?" Layla asked. "Want to have sex with you, and your son," stated Rachel. "I must be asleep and having a terrible dream," Layla said, weakly. "But then, I think it was the dreams that started all this." "It'll be all right, Ma," Rachel concluded, as she stood up from the table. She walked around the table and put her arm around her mother's shoulder and hugged her. Layla turned her face and up smiled at Rachel. Rachel leaned forward and kissed her mother full on the lips, dragging her tongue across Layla's lips. The kiss lasted many seconds before Rachel pulled back. "You'll see," She said, and giggled as she danced out of the kitchen. ---------- Layla decided she desperately needed for Gene to fuck her stupid when he got home the following day. She hoped to have him take her out to dinner and maybe a drink or two and then drag him home and let nature takes its course. Gene was not renowned for his sexual prowess, but he did have a fairly good sized cock and every once in a blue moon he would surprise her and give her a thorough screwing. Gene arrived just after noon on Sunday. He spent some time with the kids and then settled with a cold brew in front of the television. Layla asked if he'd take her out for dinner and he turned on a little attitude. "Geez, Hon, I've been on the road for seven hours and haven't been home for six weeks and already you want me to take you some place else," growled Gene. She cuddled next to him and attempted to be sweet, "Sure, Sweetie. I thought maybe we could have a nice dinner at The Plantation and a drink and then come home and maybe you could make love to me." "I'll let you know later," Gene grated. "Don't strain your brain," Layla bit back, jumping up off the sofa. "You're not that important to me any more either." She retreated to the bedroom and slammed the door. Hearing the row about to begin, Duane and Cindy both retreated from the house through the garage door and headed for their friends house. Ronald and Rachel had gone in separate directions before their dad had arrived and were still out. Gene waited a couple of minutes and followed Layla to the bedroom. He pushed the door open and found her sitting on the bed. "What the fuck was that crack supposed to mean?" He growled. "Whatever you want it to, Gene," Layla said. "You decide. I could get along without you if I had to." "Damn it, Layla, what more do you want?" He asked. "You got food, money, a nice house and car any thing you need." "How about a little love and affection once in a while?" Layla sobbed, "Or have you forgotten what that is?" "Jesus, ain't four kids enough love and affection for ya?" He grumbled. "You bastard," Layla cried, jumping up from the bed and swinging her open palm toward his face. His hand shot up and grabbed her wrist, twisting it back sharply before she could hit him. His other hand found a handful of her blond hair and jerked her head forward. Before she could react, he jerked quickly back on her hair, sending her reeling backward and sprawling across the bed. Layla lay in stunned silence. "You nuts or something?" Gene asked, through clenched teeth. "Ass hole," Layla hissed, kicking at his legs with her bare feet. Gene reached out and grabbed the front of her blouse with both hands, lifting sharply upward. The thin material of her shirt parted in the seams and came away in his hands. Clad now only in her cut off jeans and black lacy bra, Layla attempted to roll away and get up off the bed. Gene jumped on her and forced her face into the soft comforter on the bed. He straddled her back and held her down while he pulled his shirt off over his head and pulled his belt out of his pants. Then he moved off her and again collecting a hand full of her curly hair, he pulled her up off the bed. He doubled the belt in his hand and swung the loop through the air and swatted her firmly across both cheeks of her ass with a resounding smack. Layla squealed with the impact and lashed back at him with her nails, raking him across the chest. Gene grunted loudly and dropped the belt to the floor. As Layla spun out of his grip, he managed to hook a finger in the back band of her sheer bra and wrench it from her body. Layla gasped and jumped back out of his reach. A thick lump was forming in Gene's pants and Layla noticed it immediately. She stood on the other side of the bed, glaring at him with both fear and lust. She clenched her fists and jumped across the bed at Gene. As she bounded toward him, Gene sidestepped and swung his arm up under hers, spinning her around and pulling her back against his front. Quickly, his hand found the snap on the front of her pants and opened it. As she wiggled in his grasp, her ass rubbed against his now fully erect cock, sending a cold chill up her spine. 'Oh fuck,' She thought. 'He's trying to get me naked!' "I'm gonna show you some love and affection," Gene hissed in her ear, while he worked her shorts down over her hips. Layla swung her nails at him again. This time, Gene caught her wrist and twisted her arm up behind her back in a hammer lock. Her pants were around her ankles, making it even more difficult for her to stand. Gene worked the front of his jeans open and pulled his hard cock out. Pulling up on her arm, he pushed her forward until her knees hit the edge of the bed. As she fell forward, Gene crawled up behind her and roughly pushed his cock into her still unlubricated pussy. Without hesitation, Gene forced his cock all the way in to his balls. Layla gasped as the intruder wedged into her dry socket, reaching deep inside to rub seductively against her cervix. Gene started sawing into her with long, deliberate strokes. "If its love you want," He grunted as he slammed against her. "And affection you want, then its love and affection you're gonna get, Bitch." Gene continued his attack on her. Her pussy was filling with her own juices now as her passion grew. Oh how she longed for his cock on all those nights he was away on the jobs. A quick orgasm spun through her. Gene felt the tremor and redoubled his assault on her hole. The thumb of his free hand found her puckered rosebud just above his thrusting cock. He pressed into her until he was in up to the second knuckle. Layla winced at the sudden intrusion then groaned as he worked his digit in and out of her ass. "Don't you even think about it, you Son-of-a-bitch," Layla wailed as he wormed his thumb all the way inside of her. "Good idea, Cunt," Gene grunted, continuing his onslaught into both of her orifices, "Why didn't I think of that?" Gene pulled his cock out of her gushing pussy, and his thumb from her clutching sphincter. Grabbing his cum-slick cock, he aimed for her dark anal opening and lurched forward. Layla screamed into the bed covers as Gene buried himself deep in her butt. Withdrawing part way, he thrust back into her until his hairy balls rested flat against her dripping pussy lips. Again and again he repeated his motion, sending quick painful bolts of pleasure racing through Layla. "How's this for love and affection, Honey?" Gene asked through clenched teeth. Layla's pussy exploded in a crushing orgasm. Her sex fluids oozed out of her and splattered on his balls each time he pushed into her and made contact. Her mind was slowly clouding from the extreme sensations of Gene's unusually physical treatment. Then she felt him lunge into her and stiffen. She felt his hot cum flood into her quaking bowels, losing count of the pulses after four or five. Then he fell forward on top of her, trapping her down on the bed. His cock stayed firm for a minute or so and then softened until she could squeeze him out of her battered hole. "Get the fuck off me, Gene," Layla gasped. "Yes, Dear," Gene said, crawling off the bed. "Any thing you say." As Gene pulled his pants up and reached for his shirt, Layla lay face down on the bed, soaked in perspiration. "You're a real charmer, Gene," Layla moaned, as Gene closed the bedroom door on his way out. "I suppose this means we won't be going out for dinner!"