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Substitute

By: NytGamez



"Oh, yeah. That's good. Right there, baby." Jennifer Mitchell moaned as her lover and fellow crewmember Greg Ellis slowly ran his tongue across her nipple, flicking it with a light, sure touch that made it hard and tight. One of his long, powerful hands was sliding down the fastening of her uniform, knuckles deliberately brushing against the bare skin beneath while he slowly moved down toward her groin. She writhed eagerly beneath his caress, eager to be at their play. The red "grass" in hydroponics made a wonderful bed, and they'd made this interlude a part of their daily routine as soon as they'd discovered it, almost three weeks ago. Greg's pass got them into the area, which was technically restricted to Science personnel. The air had a strange odor, and the plants around them were huge and unfamiliar, but for all that it was just about the only place two people could find a place alone to fuck.

"Oh, God." Now her uniform was crumpled on the grass and his mouth was sliding down toward her groin. She'd had lovers before, they both had, but Greg was easily the best she'd had in all of her nineteen years. His tongue brought sensations to her nipples and---"ohhhhhh." He'd settled on her clitoris, first flicking back and forth across it as he had her nipples and then drawing it tightly into his mouth, his lips holding it while his tongue tormented her with pleasure. She was already close to her first climax.

"You taste like honey." He'd pulled away just long enough to undo his belt, and now began to unfasten himself as he returned to her pussy. "Mmmmm." His moan made her tingle, and Jennifer cried out as first orgasm began.

And abruptly stopped.

"Sgt. Ellis, please report to Engineering immediately. Sgt. Ellis, report to Engineering ASAP." At the first word from the intercom Greg had jerked away from her, and now slammed his first into the grass in frustration before rolling over onto his back.

"Dammit! That must mean that the ionic condenser failed again. I told them it would, but would they order the parts?" He spat reflexively. "Damn it." He had managed to free himself before they had been interrupted, and his cock jutted up from his body, throbbing and swaying slightly as if in a breeze.

"We don't have time?" Knowing what the answer would be.

"Not a chance. If the backup goes we'll all be eating dehydrated food and taking sonic showers until we hit portside." He stroked his cock in frustration. "But it's not like I can go out looking like this, either."

She pouted. "I don't like it, either."

"Yeah, but at least yours isn't visible. Let me take care of this, baby, and I'll make it up to you tonight. Promise."

"How? You said yourself that this is the only time they--" She wanted it *now*, damn it.

"Hawkins owes me a favor." He was kneeling, urging her to roll over. Frowning, she did as he asked. "He bunks with Sanchez and Hollis, both on next shift. He'll bug out, let us use the bunks." Now she was kneeling on all fours while he slid his cock back and forth between her legs. She was wet and more than ready for him, but it just wasn't fair. Her refusal was on her lips when he slid in with a low moan of pleasure and immediately began pumping away. He held her hips for balance as he pounded into her with much more force and speed than he normally would so earlier in their play. Her own arousal hadn't yet caught up with his, and she grunted in pain as he rocked her much smaller body with thrust after thrust. In and out, faster and faster, his cock using her pussy to achieve a quick release for him alone.

“Uhhhhhhhh.” His hands painfully tight on her hips, Greg climaxed, spilling his hot seed into her as he continued to pump away, lost in pleasure. No sooner was the last spurt complete than he withdrew and hastily refastened his uniform, sweat glistening on his forehead.

“Thanks, babe.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead, then turned and ran for the doors. Without a word he hit the controls and a moment later he was gone. 

Jennifer rolled over onto her back and hit the grass with one fist, almost exactly as Greg had and for exactly the same reason. Only there was no one left to satisfy her needs, and she knew full well his plans for later that “night” could easily fall through.

“Shit.” Her thighs were long and smooth, and now slick with traces of his cum. She let it trickle down to the grass, which had certainly absorbed enough of their juices in the past three weeks. The clear paneling had thrown their loud cries back to them, making it sound like they were performing to a crowd in some alien amphitheater. More than once she’d let herself imagine that the alien plants around them were sentient, that they were watching as she and Greg did wonderfully wicked things to each other. One looked like nothing so much as an enormous eggplant, smooth skinned and round, with a splash of colorful (leaves?) something on top. Another was something akin to a Venus fly trap from Earth, and yet another looked like a big pot with five squat legs. None of them, however, resembled a man with a rock-hard erection.

Slowly she began to caress herself, starting with her still-tender nipples and gradually making her way down to her pussy. Her fingers slid in easily, moving with the ease of much practice. Before she’d found Greg, she’d often gone days or entire weeks without a man’s cock inside her, and while she’d gotten very, very good at self-pleasure, it just wasn’t the same. Jennifer whimpered as her small fingers pumped her wet cunt. Her clitoris throbbed for attention, but without the filling sensation of a cock it just wasn’t the same.

Unless… One of the more normal-looking plants was a large collection of what looked like zucchini. Each was about two feet long and tapered, starting at roughly an inch wide and thickening to almost three inches across at the tip. They were purple and had ridges running around the width in irregular patterns. Surely one of those would suit her purpose, and who would ever know? There had to be two dozen of the things.

Jennifer rolled over and crawled across the small patch of “grass.” Still on her knees, she grasped one of the space-zukes and tugged. It wouldn’t come free. She tugged again, harder. Still no luck. But the plant itself was perfect. The skin of the thing was smooth, save for those ridges, and the temptation was just too much. Biting her lip in anticipation, Jennifer slowly rubbed the tip of the plant against her wet vaginal lips. It was smooth and firm but not hard, giving just a little as she pressed more firmly. 

It would have to do. Spreading her legs, still kneeling, Jennifer pushed the space zuke upward. It parted her with wonderful slowness, sliding past her outer lips and becoming enveloped by her wet, hungry pussy. The ridges provided a touch of extra sensation as each inch penetrated her, and she moaned softly. When at last she could force no more inside her Jennifer slowly pulled it out, relishing the feeling of each sweet inch of the alien plant leaving her body. When it was fully free of her she held it up in front of her face. The plant glistened with her juices, the color more intense where it had penetrated her body. She rubbed the head of it against her lips, tasting her own juices and traces of Greg’s cum. Closing her eyes, she slid it between her lips, imagining it was Greg’s cock. The plant slid over her tongue and caressed the back of her throat. She withdrew it reluctantly. Unlike Greg’s cock, this plant wouldn’t feed her mouth with sweet cum. After a moment’s hesitation she slid its wet surface down her bare body, away from her face.

It slid in ever better the second time, if that was possible. It was cool to the touch, and that should have quenched her own growing heat, but instead the alien plant sliding deep into her pussy excited her blackly. Its ridges tugged at her pussy lips as each inch slid into her, and she gripped her pussy walls tightly around it to better feel it slid in to rest against her cervix. Her one hand slid it in and out of her eager pussy with painful slowness while the other at last began to caress her now-throbbing clitoris. The zuke filled her completely, and she was forced to use saliva on her clit as she pumped faster and faster. The plant felt wonderful, heavenly, the ridges seeming to throb in time to her heated gasps.

At last she could stand no more. Collapsing to the grass, Jennifer writhed in ecstasy as her climax took her. Somehow her rhythm never faltered, the alien plant penetrating her over and over as her body rocked in mindless pleasure. It went on and on, until at last she collapsed, limp, on the alien grass, the plant still buried deeply within her vagina.

*Well, that was really something. If Greg doesn’t show up tonight, I know where I’m coming.* And coming was the right word, that was for sure. Her entire body seemed exhausted with the force of her orgasm. She stretched, then frowned. Had the plant moved? Both of her hands were free of it, lying limp on the grass. And yet…yes, there it was. The plant was pulsating, sliding in and out of her vagina in small, slight strokes. *God. What did I do to it? I hope it wasn’t getting ready to seed or something.* She knew very little about plants, save that they were good to eat and that at least one could make you come your brains out.

The strokes continued, and at first she wasn’t concerned. The movements were almost too small to notice, and plants moved every day, didn’t they? Flowers opened and closed, plants moved to follow the sun’s light.

And this one was moving to fuck her.

She blinked at sat up. Sure enough, the space zuke was now sliding in and out of her vagina with some speed, moving an inch out, an inch in. Then two. Then, while she was watching, it pulled out all the way, apparently drawn back by the cord still attaching it to the main plant.

*Guess that’s over wiiiittttttth!* She bucked in surprise as the space zuke slammed back into her, penetrating her completely and slamming against the head of her cervix before withdrawing to penetrate her again. It was moving with just barely less force than would cause her pain. She scooted backward on her butt and the plant followed, remorselessly fucking her all the while. A moment later her back was against the giant eggplant and there was nowhere left to go.

“Okay, that’s enough.” It kind of felt good, but the idea was just a little too weird. Jennifer grabbed the zuke with both hands and pulled. It was slick with her juices, and she was still struggling with it when leafy green vines from the same plant entwined themselves around her ankles. More surrounded her wrists and pulled her hands away. They have a sudden hard jerk and she found herself flat on her back, legs spread, the space zucchini enthusiastically fucking her.

“Um, somebody?” But of course no one worked this shift, the one arbitrarily designated graveyard, ship’s time. More leafy vines were now sliding across her bare skin, caressing her breasts, tickling her buttocks. She gasped as one slid up over her hips and down to her pussy, the vine narrow and amazingly soft. It wrapped itself around her clitoris with unerring accuracy—with far more accuracy than most of her lovers, as a matter of fact. The small vine began to writhe, twisting and tugging at her love button, mindlessly caressing her while the zuke continued to plunder her pussy. Now pleasure mixed uneasily with fear.

“Ohhhhhh.” Now pleasure had the lead. The space zuke was pounding into her with what could only be abandon. The pleasure in her clit continued to build, up and up and up. It was only the strangeness of the situation that kept her from surrendering completely to the pleasure. Was this some form of alien rape, or just a continuation of the pleasure she’d taken for herself earlier?

Suddenly the entire plant was shaking, leaves rustling, vines waving wildly in the air. A dull creak, and suddenly her pussy was filled with cold, sticky fluid. The vine that attached the zuke to the plant was throbbing, pulsating with what could only be some sort of alien seminal fluid. More and more of it flowed into her, filling her vagina completely and spilling to the grass beneath her. Gradually the leaves and vines returned to normal, only the zuke still inside of her now still. Spent.

The space zuke had come.

And she hadn’t. Now she regretted letting her nerves get the better of her. Sure enough, the zuke was withdrawing from her, leaving her feeling limp and empty, the way she always did once the sex was over. Thick green liquid coated her thighs almost to the knees, and for just a moment she thought she was going to cry. Her emotions swung wildly, however, as the leaves still firmly attached to her clitoris began to throb again. Their knowing rhythm was everything she could ask for, and this time she didn’t resist as the pleasure began to build.

The rustling of leaves while the plant pleasured her telegraphed the arrival of another space zuke, this one larger than the first. The tip was three inches across, and it worried at her, trying to slide inside. Back and forth along her pussy lips it slid, making wet sucking sounds as it pushed in, pulled out, pushed in, pulled out. She was approaching her first orgasm when at last it forced its way inside her, penetrating her deeply. It was so large that pain briefly mixed with the pleasure, like the pinprick she’d felt when she’d lost her virginity at twelve. Then it was sliding in and out, the pain fading gradually as she was filled up beyond imagining. 

The purple space zucchini slid in and out of her, the vine it was attached to throbbing and waving in the air. From time to time small shivers ran along its surface, like mini orgasms. Its rhythm varied from the agonizingly slow to the breathtakingly fast, the latter making her cry out in surprise as her body jolted into one long, seemingly endless orgasm. When at last it slowed again she lay limp, letting the plant fuck her, helpless to resist. On and on it went, the only sound the wet sucking of its penetration.

But before long her pleasure began to build again. More than one lover had complained that she was insatiable, and it looked like, in this alien plant, she might have at last found the perfect lover. Hard, sharp orgasms followed long, low ones that left her breathless, while the plant filled her a second time with its alien sperm. The third space zuke had just entered her (this one as thick as the last, making her groan slightly as it penetrated her now-sore pussy) when something tickled against her cheek. She turned slightly and another zuke pressed against her lips.

Her eyes widened in surprise. Surely a plant wouldn’t want…

This one did. It insinuated itself between her lips and slid into her mouth, forcing her jaws open wide. It slid over her tongue eagerly and tried to slide down her throat. Gagging, she grabbed at the thing and managed to force it back. Holding it at bay, she slowly licked its cool, smooth surface. It tasted vaguely like vanilla. She swirled her tongue across the head of the space zuke, then slid her tongue down the slide, feeling the ridges under her wide, wet tongue. The zuke stopped resisting immediately. Much better.

While part of her was lost in the pleasure coming from her clitoris and vagina, Jennifer allowed herself to also sink into the pleasure of pleasuring another. Her human lovers (for that was now how she thought of them) had always loved her ability and desire to give them oral pleasure. The truth was, she loved to give head, loved to watch their faces as she gave them the most intense pleasure that they could know. Well, now there was no face to watch, but the body language of the plant was certainly easy enough to read. Shuddering as another orgasm ran through her, Jennifer began to slowly suck off the alien plant.

She did it with slow, methodical pleasure. As she’d suspected, the ridges were especially sensitive, and she tightened her lips until they slid through with tight little pops. Then she slid it across her tongue, letting the plant feet her moist heat as she lapped at it like a Popsicle. Her hands slid up and down the remainder of the alien shaft, caressing its slick surface. She faltered as the third zuke began to increase its rhythm to a pace just short of brutal, then felt her own pleasure catch up and take over. She slurped madly at the plant like it was her first lover’s cock, taking it in eagerly, forcing it deeper and deeper down her eager throat. She threw her head back and let it deep throat her, using the entire length of her throat to pleasure itself while it fucked her wildly down below. She screamed around its thrusts, lost in more pleasure than she could ever have imagined. Leaves rustles all around her, and then it began to rain.

From in the air all above her space zukes began to spew, showering their rain of cold, thick sperm down onto her bare skin. Over and over they spat their loads, thick green liquid spattering across her face, her breasts, her belly. She screamed as the zuke in her cunt exploded, forcing wave after wave of cum deep inside her. The scream turned into a choked gasp as the alien plant in her mouth at last climaxed, sending what felt like buckets of alien cum down her throat and into her lungs and stomach. She gagged and writhed, trying desperately to breathe, but the onslaught just went on and on, the alien plants in her mouth and pussy pumping, pumping, pumping. 

Just as the world began to go gray the zuke in her throat receded and she rolled over onto her side, gagging and retching. Surprisingly little plant sperm came back up; she must have swallowed (or inhaled) more than she’d realized. Her stomach did feel full, stretched-to-the-utmost. After a minute she made it to her knees and felt more sperm slide down her thighs. It looked like she’d taken a bath in the stuff. Following some instinct she didn’t understand, Jennifer knelt in it and began to rub the sticky liquid into her skin. It was absorbed quickly, leaving her skin a lustrous and healthy pink. The grass absorbed the rest, and within a few minutes the evidence of her amazing sexual encounter was gone.

Except for one thing. With a curious half-smile, Jennifer rubbed her belly. Normally flat as a pancake, it was already slightly rounded. Under her palm she could feel the slight movement of new life. Alien life. Blinking in sleepy pleasure, Jennifer lay down on the red grass and closed her eyes.

A mother needs her sleep, after all.

THE END

Substitute



I have never been a pretty girl. I am tall (six feet in my stockings) and skinny, with wide hips and a big nose that never really recovered its shape after a bicycle accident when I was eight. To make matters worse, I've never been a girly girl: I don't wear make-up or make a big fuss about my hair. Growing up I liked playing dungeons and dragons and basketball. I was a nerd. The guys all thought I was a freak. Maybe they were right.

So I found myself in college, 19 years old, a virgin, and horny as hell. College guys, as far as I could tell, were the same things as high school boys. There seemed to be no chance of me having a sex life. I immersed myself in my studies and masturbated frequently.

My roommates' name was Hope, and we were opposites in every way. Hope was short and blonde and curvy and cute and socially outgoing and a devout Christian. She was from Georgia, and was the epitome of a girly girl. She was neat and tidy and got up an hour early just to do her hair and make-up. Despite the fact that we were total opposites, we got along great. We became the best of friends.

Hope got herself a boyfriend. His name was Jeff, and he was an art major, a rebel with a black leather jacket. Cute as hell, talented, and just a little crazy. I didn't know what they saw in each other, but they certainly seemed happy together.

I was slowly masturbating in bed one night when they walked into the dorm. I was just teasing my clit under the blankets. When I was really excited and couldn't stand it anymore, I would slide my vibrator right up my vagina and really grind my clit until I came like a dam bursting. That was my favorite way to get off. As far as I knew, Hope was out with Jeff, and wouldn't be back until late.

I lay completely still, pretending to be asleep as they turned on the overhead light and came giggling into the room. I was glad they had walked in now and not a few minutes later: the last thing I wanted was to be walked in on with my legs spread wide and a big blue dildo shoved up my pussy. 

They didn't pay any attention to me. They were laughing and talking loudly. They seemed a little drunk. They landed on Hopes bed, and started making out. I realized that they must not be aware that I was in the room.

My clit was screaming at me. Not wanting to be discovered, I let my hand slip between my thighs to pet the needy little button that was throbbing down there. I watched as I rubbed. I had never seen Hope drunk before, or seen her show anything other than completely proper affection for Jeff. They were kissing passionately. Even from across the room I could see the sizeable lump in Jeff's black jeans. I was starting to wonder just how much I might get to see. I had never been jealous of Hope; but I did think Jeff was delicious.

Jeff was unbuttoning Hope's blouse, and she was letting him. I was surprised, and a little thrilled. Jeff was trying to remove her bra, and having trouble with the clasp. Hope sat up on the bed, reached behind her back, and unsnapped her bra. I coveted Hope's breasts; they were everything a girls breasts were supposed to be: large, round, firm and beautiful. Hope was very modest. We had been living together for two months and I had never seen her boobs uncovered. Now I found myself admiring Hope's chest almost as much as Jeff was. He was sucking her nipples, alternating between them. They stood out, all red and pointy. Jeff had his shirt off too. He had a smooth and pale chest, with a large black spider tattooed under his left nipple. They were kissing each other all over. Jeff slid his hand up inside Hope's skirt. She moved it away. He continued stroking her thigh. Her skirt had ridden up and I could see her white panties. "Don't be such a prude" I thought "Let him play with your pussy." I was really excited; my own pussy was literally dripping wet.

I didn't hear what Jeff whispered in her ear, but I heard Hope's reply. "Sorry Honey" she said in her pretty southern drawl "One thing I don't do is suck dick." 

I was sad to hear that, and so was Jeff. "I'm sorry Hon" she said "I just can't do it." (She pronounced ‘I' as ‘Ah'.) "You can still get off though. I'm sure I sure don't mind."

She carefully unzipped his jeans, which were by now threatening to burst, and took out his penis. It looked yummy to me. She was crazy. I would have been happy to take that thing in my mouth. I had never actually had a good look at a guy's penis. I liked what I saw. Jeff's cock was a beautiful thing, large and long and fully erect. I could almost see it throbbing. Jeff took it in one hand, and started stroking. I massaged my clit in time with him. I had never seen a guy masturbate before, and I found it really erotic. Hope was holding his other hand, encouraging him. "Put it on my boobies Honey." She drawled softly "When you come squirt it right on them." It didn't take Jeff long. His hand was moving so fast it was a blur. When he came, I was amazed at how much came out. He shot jet after pearly white jet right onto Hope's lovely breasts. They kissed a little, then Hope got a Kleenex and cleaned off. 

After that they got dressed pretty quickly. Hope was worried that I would come home soon. Jeff left after one last kiss, and Hope went to the bathroom to take a shower. As soon as I heard the water running, I grabbed the vibrator from the drawer, and jammed it up my puss. I was coming ecstatically in seconds. By the time Hope was done with her shower, I had had two great orgasms. Hope turned out the light and fell into her bed. After a few minutes laying there in the dark, I could hear a quiet rhythmic sound. Hope was masturbating. Listening to the little squishing squeaking sounds across the room I got excited again. I managed to get myself off one more time that night, using only my fingers.

It was a few days before anything else happened. Then, one afternoon out of the blue, Hope asked me if she could ask a personal question. "Of course" I said "Ask anything."

"Have you ever given a blowjob?"

My interest was piqued. This was not the kind of question I had expected from Hope. "Yes" I answered "I sure have."

This was the truth: I had given exactly one blowjob in my life so far. It had when I was 14 at camp with my friend Seth. It had been dark and we were drunk, and it hadn't happened again, but I had had a blast.

"I think it's awful gross" 

"Not me" I said "I think it's really fun."

Hope seemed shocked. "Do you swallow?"

"Yes."

"Eeeew." Hope made a face.

"I don't mind. I think it's sexy."

"Would you give Jeff a blowjob?"

"Well I guess I would. I mean if he wasn't your boyfriend. If he wanted me to."

"No." Hope said, looking at me seriously. "I'm asking you to."

I was too shocked to say anything.

"You're better at the whole… you know, sex thing than me." Hope was blushing furiously. "Jeff really wants me to and I can't. I just can't. So I thought that maybe you would."

"Really?"

"Yes. Really."

"Well" I said "Ok."

Hope was going out with Jeff that night. She asked me if I would be home later on. I said I would.

They came bursting into the dorm room about at about ten. I was lying on my bed, in my pajamas, reading a book. I really hadn't known what to expect. 

"Hiya Andrea" Hope beamed at me. 

She gave Jeff a long, passionate kiss. "I've got something special for you Hon." She told him, and they tumbled into bed. They started making out, as if I wasn't there at all. She pulled his shirt off. He was feeling her breasts through her white blouse.

"Go ahead Honey" she said "Take my top off." He looked over at me. "Go ahead." Hope repeated.

He unbuttoned her shirt, and started fumbling with her bra. "Let me" said Hope. She unsnapped her bra, setting free her beautiful breasts.

"Are you ready for a blowjob?" She asked.

"Oh yeah." Jeff said "If you don't mind. If you're comfortable doing it."

"Not me. But Andrea will."

So it really was going to happen. Hope had taken Jeff's penis out. It was big and hard and looked delicious. A drop of clear liquid was leaking out of the tip. I couldn't wait to have it in my mouth.

I walked over as if in a trance, and crawled onto Hope's bed with them. I lowered my mouth onto Jeff's penis. It was hot and hard and silky soft. It felt alive in my mouth. Hope stroked my hair as I sucked. I gently fondled his balls. Jeff moaned and groaned, humping my mouth. I found the situation painfully sexy. I slipped my hand inside my pajama bottoms and let my fingers find my clit. As I rubbed myself, Jeff got more and more excited. Suddenly he cried out loud and squirted jet after jet of salty hot semen into my hungry mouth. I didn't have time to swallow it all right away. It was salty and bitter; but not really bad at all. I literally couldn't stop. As Jeff's wilting cock slipped out of my mouth, I rubbed my clit fast and hard inside my pants. As Hope and Jeff kissed and snuggled, my orgasm shook through my body.

The next day, I asked Hope if she was ok with what had happened. 

"I'm fine" drawled Hope "I thought that was really sexy. Are you fine with it?"

I was fine with it. Jeff sure didn't seem to mind. 

That night, when I got back from the library, Jeff and Hope were in the room. They were snuggling on her bed, watching a movie on our tv. I put my books down and joined them. I don't even know what the movie was. As soon as I had sat down, Hope said to Jeff "Honey would you like your dick sucked?" The words sounded funny coming out of Hope's sweet mouth. I was glad to hear Jeff's response "Hell yes I do!" Apparently I had done a good job the night before.

Hope was tugging Jeff's pants off. She pulled his underwear down, and his dick flopped free. It wasn't all the way hard yet, but it was getting there. Hope grinned at me. "Suck his dick real good for me Andrea."

I went to it, really taking my time and enjoying it this time. From the noises he was making, Jeff was enjoying it too. I licked and nibbled and kissed all over his penis. I gently took his balls in my mouth. He groaned in pleasure. I was having a great time. I looked up and saw that Hope had stripped off her top and bra, setting her lovely breasts free. Jeff was suckling at her nipples while I sucked him. The action was really turning me on. I was wearing fairly tight jeans, and I was trying to rub my pussy with my free hand through the material. It wasn't really working.

"Baby" Hope said to me "You can masturbate if you want to. We don't mind. Really. I mean you are doing my boyfriend for me."

I released Jeff's dick long enough to unbutton my jeans and pull my panties down around my thighs. I'd never really been comfortable being naked around others, and I certainly hadn't masturbated in front of anyone, but this didn't slow me down. I got my fingers all slippery and found my clit and went back to work.

I was stroking Jeff's cock with one hand and rubbing my clit with the other while he humped my mouth and played with Hope's breasts. "Andrea" he half moaned "would you please touch my asshole?"

Well I was delighted to. I let my hand slip below his ball sac, and up behind into the uncharted sexy territory of his ass. I quickly found the tight ring of muscle, and softly massaged his anus with my finger. I didn't want to push it too far; I didn't want to hurt him. His pleasure as I played with his little butthole was obvious though. Even without him asking, I knew what he wanted. I took my finger from between his cheeks just long enough to slide it up my own eager hole, getting it nice and slippery, then I slid it right up his ass. I felt his muscles gripping my finger tight. His cock was swelling in my mouth. Hope was looking on in something like awe. 

"Andrea Baby" she drawled softly "Could you make him come on my boobies for me?"

I was happy to oblige. As I gently fucked Jeff's ass with my long middle finger, I took my mouth off his cock and started jerking him hard and fast. I was pointing it at Hope's big tits. With a roar, Jeff came, shooting his come right onto her heaving breasts. His ass squeezed my finger so tight I thought it would cut off the circulation. I stayed with him, milking him as he got soft, collecting his milky white come into a puddle on Hope's chest. 

I saw Hope going for a Kleenex, but I beat her to it. I lowered my mouth right to her breast, and licked the salty come right off her beautiful tits. I licked up every last drop. When I was done, I saw that Hope and Jeff were locked in a deep, open mouth kiss. I had unfinished business between my own legs that needed taking care of. I bounded out of Hope's bed, and waddled across the room as best I could with my jeans and panties around my ankles. I opened the drawer and pulled out my big blue vibrator. Modesty be damned, I had that thing up my pussy in a flash, and was rubbing my clit like crazy. It didn't take me long at all; my abdominal muscles spasmed, my pussy yawned and gasped, and I fucked myself to a huge orgasm that just kept going on and on like rolling thunder. When I settled down, I realized that Jeff and Hope were watching me, rapt. 

"That was beautiful" Hope said breathlessly. "I do wish that I could do that."

Later, after we had all cleaned up and Jeff had gone home for the night, I asked Hope what she had meant. 

"I wish I could be more like you." She said. "You are so unselfconscious and bad. I wish I could be like that just a little. I'm just a goody-two shoes I guess. I really like that boy, and I'd love to do those things for him, but I just can't." I had never imagined that Hope might admire me. I had always thought that she somehow disapproved of me. "You're my best friend." Hope said. "I want to thank you so much."

That night I heard Hope masturbating again. I could hear the little sounds she made as she rubbed, and the way her breath changed as she got excited, coming in little gasps. I wondered what she was picturing in her head while she rubbed. Me sucking her boyfriends' dick? Her doing it instead of me? Me licking his come off her breasts? I found myself getting out of bed and walking across the room. I had pulled my vibrator out of its drawer. I was just wearing the t-shirt and panties that I slept in. I climbed into Hope's bed and lay down next to her. I lifted the sheet off her, revealing Hope with her nightgown hiked up around her waist, and her white panties down below her knees. Her pussy was covered in soft light brown hair, and her fingers were busy between her labia. I let my own fingers do the walking, finding my pussy wet and slick. I turned on the vibrator and directed the tip onto Hope's clitoris. She groaned, and I pressed down firmly. I got two fingers up inside my own pussy, and bore down hard against my clit. Hope was running her fingers up and down her slit as I kept the buzzing toy on her button. We came at almost the same time, holding hands and gasping at the sexiness of it. Hope kissed me once on the lips, not like a lover, but like a best friend. I took my toy and slipped back into my own bed.

That's how it went all fall: I sucked Jeff off almost every day, sometimes more than once in a day. We all went to a movie, and I blew him in the theatre while Hope held my hand. I almost always drank Jeff's come, or licked it off Hope's breasts. I got really good at giving blowjobs. Once I slipped my vibrator up Jeff's willing ass. Later, as we masturbated together, Hope whispered to me that that was the sexiest thing she had ever seen. I never touched Jeff when Hope wasn't there. That would have been cheating.



Substitute



Cliff took me for granted. For some reason he thought I was safe. Once I overheard him tell one of those guys he brought home that he wanted only straight roommates, guys who wouldn't hit on him, because he only wanted to fuck when he was in the mood. Well, he had been in the mood a lot these past several weeks. And he also didn't know me worth spit. I only stayed around here and waited on him and cleaned up after him like I did because I wanted him.

I wanted him so bad.

I'd stay awake nights waiting to hear the scrape of the key in the lock. Then I'd hold my breath and close my eyes tight in case he checked on me before he took his pick of the night to his room. I'd wait until I started to hear the moaning and then I'd quietly leave my bed and steal across to the dark living room, right there in the darker shadow of the TV cabinet, where I could get a good view of the bed in his room. He never shut the door. It was almost as if he expected me to watch—but I'm sure he didn't, because he sure didn't show any interest in me when we were alone.

Sometimes Cliff was the top and sometimes he was the bottom. I only really got into the scene when he was the top, though. I wanted him to top me. I'd never done it with a guy before, but I knew from the first time I saw him fucking one of those guys he'd brought home late at night that I wanted him to fuck me. I'd watch them sucking each other off, building up to grappling on the bed, building up their moaning, and my hand went to the front of my sleeping shorts and I'd start going numb everywhere but the very center of me. I'd see Cliff's cock thicken and lengthen and my butt would twitch from the fantasy of him preparing himself for me. The legs would open wide, and the little cry and the arching of the receiver's back as he was being entered and filled would have me swaying and moaning and pulling my dong out into the open. Then my eyes would slit and I'd focus on the contracting and rhythm of Cliff's butt cheeks as he either possessed or was stroked by his lover of the night.

God, I wanted to palm my hands on those butt cheeks as Cliff worked inside me.

From that point I was lost, wanting to move with the figures on the bed, to become one with them. And as time went on, I learned the signals of approaching release and I was able to time my ejaculations closely with theirs.

Then I would retreat back to my bed, as quietly as I could. I never knew where they would go from there. Sometimes the other man would leave immediately and sometimes they would come out to the living area and would raid the refrigerator. But sometimes, there would be a short period of silence and then the moaning would start again. And I'd then leave my bed again and move to my observation nook beside the TV cabinet and watch and stroke to the renewed mating.

The next day, Cliff would act like nothing at all had happened. I don't know how many times I wanted to say that I wanted it to be me he brought into his room one of those nights. But I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

I probably would have remained a pining virgin for months only to finally move out of the apartment in frustration from unrequited need for Cliff, leaving him scratching his head about what had gone wrong in what he thought was a perfect roommate setup, if he hadn't gotten dead drunk that night after our university football team unexpectedly won the Gator Bowl game.

Cliff was half looped on a combination of Bud and vodka and euphoria over the game win even before he flipped off the TV, dressed and grabbed up his jacket, and headed out into the night. We watched the game together and he seemed to enjoy my company. He even flicked me with his towel off and on during the second half as our team piled touchdown on touchdown in what became a rout. He'd taken a shower during halftime and padded out with just the towel around him. I'd stripped off my T myself, hoping that his euphoria might at last turn into arousal for me. But nadda. I was just his roommate; someone else in the room. Someone who would clean up the empty bottles and cardboard pizza boxes after he'd left. Someone safe.

"Whooeee, gotta get me some," was all he said as time ran out on the field. And then he padded back to his room and pulled on a pair of jeans and a T and was out the door in a flash. He didn't put on any briefs, so I knew he was going out on the prowl and would be back with some stud in tow a couple of hours later. I could have cried. He didn't have to go anywhere to find someone for the night.

So, what did I do after Cliff left? I started picking up empty bottles and pizza boxes, of course, and making the place presentable for whoever Cliff came home with. But all the time I was doing it, I was muttering to myself that one of these days I was going to pull on my jeans without any briefs under them, just like Cliff did, and tug on the tightest T I could find—my body was just as well developed as Cliff's was—and I'd go out into the night and find someone of my own to bring home too.

Who was I kidding, though? It was Cliff I wanted, not any of those guys he brought home.

That night was different from any of the others. Cliff didn't slip quietly into the apartment with his one night stand that night. Cliff was drunker than a skunk when he came home, and he was making a whole lot of noise.

I decided he had struck out at the pickup bars and had some sort of homing device inside him that managed to get him back in spite of being plastered. My first thought as I heard him muttering incoherently to himself and stumbling through the living room and to his bedroom was intense relief that he hadn't had a car wreck. But then, when the sound just abruptly stopped, I held my breath for the longest time. Was he OK? Did he need help?

He'd never come home drunk like this before. Maybe he was choking on his own vomit or something. I had no experience in this. Was it good or bad that he'd just gone silent? I knew I had to check on him. I had no idea what to do if he was seriously in need of help, but I had to at least check to see what was what.

I got out of bed, clad only in my droopy sleeping shorts, and padded through the living room and toward the light in his bedroom. I could see Cliff as I approached. He was huddled on the bed, his chest buried in the bedspread, his arms flung out wide, and his knees drawn up so that his bare butt was jutting up at me. My cock gave a lurch at the sight of those rounded orbs that fascinated and aroused me so. His face was turned to me and he was blowing bubbles and snorting and snoring quietly. And he had the most angelic expression on his handsome face.

I ached for him. I didn't even think of wondering why he was bare-assed. He did have his T-shirt on still. I was drawn to that luscious ass of his. I approached the bed in faulting steps. He certainly didn't look like he was in any danger. But he also looked liked he was totally oblivious to the world and that nothing short of a four alarm fire would rouse him for hours.

I couldn't resist. I reached out a hand, ever so tentatively. My fingers were on the flesh of his glutes. The skin felt firm and soft and warm and cool all at the same time. And just the contact made by the pads of my fingers sent little chills up my arms. I heard myself moan, and then, not having any control over myself, I felt my palm stretch out over the curve of his buttock.

At that instant, though, I heard the sound of rustling from the closet corner of the room, and I snatched my hand away and turned and looked there with a little cry of shock and surprise.

He laughed out loud. There was a big, hulking dude in the room with us. A biker type. All tricked out in leather and tattoos. Not fat; heavily muscled. A good face, if a little hard looking; and a great body; the impression of dark curly hair here and about.

He was holding Cliff's jeans in front of him, and I'd swear he had a hand in one of the back pockets. Taking advantage of the situation.

"Who the hell are you?" he said, as if I was the intruder and this was his room.

"I live here; I'm Cliff's roommate," I retorted, rising anger overcoming the surprise. I was in shape, but not in shape like this guy was—and certainly not nearly as big—so I wasn't thinking too well to go belligerent on him.

"This Cliff?" he asked, pointing to the bubbling angel on the bed.

"Yeah," I said. "And this is our apartment. What—?"

"They call me Horse," the biker-type said as he tossed Cliff's jeans on the floor behind his back, almost daring me to ask him what he was doing with them. "You can guess why they call me that," he went on. A sneery sort of smile was spreading across his face.

With the jeans out of the way, I got a good look at him. No shirt—none required really; he was clothed in red, blue, and black tattooing in an intricate floral design with flowing vines—black leather vest, tight black leather pants with a big bulge at the crotch, black leather boots, and a black leather baseball cap peeking out of black curly hairlocks. He was darkish; probably at least part Hispanic.

"Well, Horse," I said, trying, unsuccessfully, to keep a stammer out of my voice. "Thanks for getting Cliff home. Now I guess you'd better be—"

"I don't think so," Horse said, that sneery smile of his unfaltering.

"What—?"

"Your roomie here brought me clear across town for a fuck."

"Well, you can see he's in no shape to—" I responded, indigence involuntarily creeping into my voice.

"Yes, I see that," Horse answered in a throaty voice. "Looks like it's substitute time, then."

"Oh, no. No," I said, taking a faltering step away. "I don't . . . I'm not."

"I saw you stroke his ass," Horse said. "Don't tell me you two aren't fucking like bunnies."

"No. I've never . . . You need to leave." My words came out choked, and I turned and fled the room.

But he was faster than I was. And bigger and stronger. I was only half way across the living room when he tackled me to the floor. I don't know where he got the leather thongs from, but he had me belly down to the carpet, fully covering my body with his, and he held me flat there while he bound my hands together at the wrists above my head. I saw him effortless lift a heavy recliner and bring it back down so that one of the legs came down between my forearms, entrapping my hands under the heavy chair and making sure I couldn't slither away from him.

I lay there, immobilized by shock, fear, surprise, and his heavy body, whimpering and hyperventilating, too numb from it all to yell out or to demonstrate any form of objection or resistance.

His hands were flying all over my body, and he literally ripped my sleeping shorts off me. He had also stripped himself, because I now felt skin on skin. The hardness and power of him was overwhelming. He had his head buried in the back of my neck and he was nipping me there and making little animal noises. His chest was rubbing against my shoulder blades. I could feel cold metal rubbing against me there; I was dumbly thinking he must have body piercings and, my mind racing to defend my senses from the reality that was happening to me, I was musing about how many rings and such he had about his body. I knew of one for sure. His hips were moving against my buttocks, and there was little doubt that he had a penis ring of some thickness.

The Horse lifted his weight from my back, but still encased my sides closely with his knees, and he flipped me over. I barely had time to focus on the determined sneer on and lust in his face before he was straddling my chest, pulling my head up roughly by the hair, and forcing his ring-pierced cock head between my lips.

I gagged as he took possession of me and quickly filled my mouth with his manhood to the edge of choking. My eyes were watering and I whimpering and thrashing about, trying to escape him. But he was too strong for me.

"Take it," He muttered darkly. He was stabbing down into my mouth with short, quick strokes. "Suck it proper," he said. "Open. Take it."

I was doing my best, but I had no idea what to do, and this all was moving just too fast for me. I was still in shock.

The Horse slammed my head back on the carpet in disgust. And then I saw the expression on his face change. He was regaining control. He had been operating out of animal instinct. The hunt.

"You really haven't done this before, have you?" he asked, his voice full of wonder.

"No, I haven't," I stammered. I suddenly was ashamed. I was twenty and I'd wanted to do this for years. I hadn't done it because I was a lump. A scared lump. I certainly wanted to do it with Cliff.

"Could of fooled me," the Horse muttered. "You're hard enough. Your cock tells me you want it." He was stroking my cock with a hand thrown back behind him. And I couldn't deny that I was reacting to that like I wanted sex.

"I saw you with that dude in the bedroom. You wanted him, didn't you?"

It was a struggle to admit it, but I let it out in almost a wail. "Yes. Yes, I want him."

I had no chance to say more, because he brought his face down to mine and he possessed my lips with his. He was stretched across my body again. His body, his full body tattoo undulating provocatively, was covering mine and moving on mine.

My body was taking over my decision making. He was stroking my cock and moving his body on mine and kissing me deeply. The tension began to drain out of my body to be replaced with a motion that matched his and sighing and moaning that more than matched his. I closed my eyes tight and imagined that this was Cliff who was making love to me.

But that wasn't working. When I tried to surface the image of Cliff in my mind, the reality of this nut-brown, muscular body, covered with tattoos and piercings and danger and erotic exoticness fought for recognition. And won. I wasn't writhing in arousal with Cliff. There was no substituting the elusive, aloof—and drunk on his tail in the other room—Cliff for the strong, powerful, arousing man who was making love to me in reality here on the living room carpet.

He waited for the moment when he no longer was kissing me, but when I was kissing him. And then he broke the kiss and lifted his face from mine and gave me a broad smile.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked simply.

"No." I managed to say, surprised at myself that the decision had come so easily. "No. No, don't stop. But—"

"Shhh," he said, moving the hand from my cock to brush against my lips. "I can be gentle. If I'm the first, I can control myself."

"Ohhh," whimpered. The reality of what was about to happen was becoming more and more real for the first time. "Ohhh. Please," I whimpered.

"Please stop?" he asked.

"No. No. Please. I want it. Just. You know."

"Do you want me to untie you? Shall we move to your bed."

I chomped on that for a few seconds. What did I want? If this was going to happen, did I want it half way? What was the thrill of this man for me? The danger. The power he had over my powerlessness. The whole rough, swarthy, tattooed and body-pierced aspect of him aroused me. I had to admit that the rougher the one night stand that Cliff brought home, the more of a thrill it was for me. The surprise. The forceful taking. I wanted it all.

"No, please. Take me here, like this."

"Right. Good," he said, the lustful smile returning to his face. "Shall we start from the beginning?"

"What do you mean. I don't—"

But the Horse had already started showing me what he meant. He moved to astride my chest again, with his knees encasing my side and he has pushing the head of his ring-pierced cock head at my lips again. this time I opened wide to him, and he slowly stroked against my inner cheeks, moving my head up and down on his rod with hands buried in the hair at the back of my head. He was murmuring instructions. Taking it slow, but filling me to capacity again. Pulling back when I gagged and choked, but relentlessly arousing himself, bringing his cock to gigantic proportions in the warmth of my mouth.

I could feel him trembling above me, but he didn't take this the full way. He withdrew from me and moved his pelvis down to mine. He was rhythmically moving his hips against mine, and I returned the favor, in coordinating rhythm. Our cocks were rubbing against each other and up and down on each other's bellies. We were both writhing and trembling now. His chest was rocking up and down just inches above my face, and he brought my lips to a ring-tipped nipple with his hands. I needed no encourage, but started licking and kissing from one hard nipple to the other and then I was tonguing father afield, following the curls of his chest hair and the vining of the floral tattooing across his torso with my tongue. He raised his arms, one after the other, and I buried my face in his pits, tonguing the profusion of black, curly hair there and drinking in the lusty man scent of him hungrily.

His hard, horse-hung cock was slapping against my belly, and I could tell from the increasing rapid rate of the movement of his hips that his needs were becoming more and more insistent.

Well, so were mine.

He was on the move. His face came down to my chest and he was tonguing and nipping at my nipples. Slowly moving down my torso with exploring lips and tongue and wandering hands. I arched my back and gave a little cry as his mouth opened over the head of my throbbing cock and he took me in. And in and in and in.

I ejaculated almost immediately within the close warmth of his mouth, and he swallowed me down with a low guttural humming sound.

He pulled away from me and his knees no longer were encasing my thighs.

"Open to me," he said in an insistent throaty voice. "Your legs. Open them."

I opened my legs wide as he pulled a cushion off the nearby sofa. He lifted my pelvis with one hand and pushed the cushion under my hips with the other. My butt was elevated over my head. But he wanted me elevated even farther. He was on his knees below me and between my legs. He gripped the backs of my thighs in strong hands and pushed my torso up so that my weight was borne on my shoulder blades. The sofa cushion was pushing against the small of my back.

I gave a little cry and arched up again as I felt his tongue run between my butt cheeks and brush across my asshole. He continued on up my perineum and was swallowing and working my balls. I was starting to go hard again and I was barely able to control the trembling of my body. The tongue worked its way back to my hole and he was rimming and then tongue-fucking me. I sighed and moaned while he spent several minutes working me with his tongue, making me open to him. The first opening of those gates to the possession of man.

"Rubber. I need a rubber . . . and some lube. God, you are tight. A rubber."

"I don't. I don't know . . . I . . . Cliff's nightstand. He's sure to have them there."

I was left alone, ass over head, hands trapped under a recliner, beginning to have doubts and to hyperventilate again. But, thankfully, only briefly. The Horse had found what he needed and was back.

He stood over me, between my spread thighs, letting me watch him open the condom packet and roll the thin latex on that monster of a cock he had. God, his body was beautiful. Dark, swarthy, covered with a profusion of tattoos. Black, curly hair. A lusty smile. And at the very center of him. Demanding my full attention. Making me fearful and anxious at the same time. That magnificent cock. Soon to be inside me. Could I take it? Surely I couldn't take it all in.

But I could. And I did.

He went slowly and was as gentle as he could be—at least at first. It seemed like hours ticked slowly away as he took his time entering me, fucking down into my hole from a crouched stance below and above me, with my butt high above my head.

And I watched every inch disappear into me. And I screamed, first in pain, but eventually in ecstasy. And I sweated and strained and cursed and cried out against it and cried for more of it.




Substitute







Substitute



She was wearing heels, so she was almost as tall as I. I tried not to look at her body, but I couldn't stop myself. The fact that she was so beautiful and wearing the tiniest bikini I had ever seen combined with the fact that I was wearing only a towel, was too much. My cock started to swell.

"I'm okay," I was able to blurt out. She took her hand from my side and put it around my waist. She must have noticed my cock making a pup tent out of the towel.

"Oh, my God, Ricky again. I guess this bikini is more provocative than I thought."

"Oh God, mom!" I was mortified.

"Why don't you let Mom take care of that for you?" she said as she stuck her hand through the towel, and grabbed my cock.

"Mom!" I was flabbergasted, and tried to jump back, but she had a hold of my cock.

"Oh relax," she said as she started to stroke me. "I'm an old married woman. Don't you think that I've done this a million times for your Uncle Jim?"

I didn't know what to do. It was my Mom stroking my cock, but it felt so good and she looked so great in that bikini. In surrender, I closed my eyes and let out a gasp.

"You like Mommy stroking your cock, don't you baby?" She was right. It was so erotic that I thought I was going to blow my load right then and there.

With her free hand she untied the towel and let it fall to the floor.

"My baby boy, you really have grown up," she said as she looked at my erection.

"Baby," her voice changed, becoming more seductive. "Mommy has needs too." She took my hand in hers, and brought it to her crotch.

"Baby," her voice still with that seductive tone. "Mommy hasn't been touched my a man in so long. Mommy needs you to touch her." I cupped her pubic mound and slid my middle finger along her slit. She rested her head on my shoulder and kissed me there.

Without skipping a beat she pushed her bikini bottom down with her free hand and let it fall to the floor. My hand found her pussy lips again and my middle finger found her wetness. She closed her eyes, arched her back and sighed.

She guided me backwards and then we both climbed into my bed. A third time I found her pussy and this time I entered her with two fingers.

"Oh baby, that feels so good. Does it feel good to have Mommy jerk you off?" She was on her back and I was on my side.

I was starring at her tits, but they were still in her bra. She saw what I was starring at, and she grabbed the two triangles and pulled them away from her tits.

I saw Mom's tits for the first time. They were beautiful. More full and firm than the teenage girls who I had been banging. She had brownish red areolas and her nipples were erect and tantalizing.

"You want to touch Mommy's titties, don't you Baby Boy? You want to put your mouth on them."

I didn't say anything. I just bent down and took her breast in my mouth, sucking on it and wrapping my tongue around her nipple.

"Oh Baby, Mommy feels so good."

I was licking her nipple and my middle finger was caressing her clit. She was so preoccupied by what I was doing to her that she stopped jerking me off.

Her whole body was shaking and she was grinding her hips into my finger. Her breaths were shallow and quickening. I was building her higher and higher to orgasm. My lips were still on her nipple and my finger was flicking her clit so fast that I thought I was going to get a cramp. She started to come.

"Kiss me, Ricky," she whispered with a quiver in her voice. I left her tit and kissed her full on the mouth, driving my tongue deep into her throat as she sucked on it. She drove her hips into my hand hard.

She let out a loud guttural sound as she came. She came only once, but it lasted for a full minute.

"Okay Baby, you can stop now," she said exhausted and satiated.

My finger left her wetness, and I lay next to her.

"Don't worry, Baby Boy. Mommy hasn't forgotten you. Just give me two minutes to catch my breath."

I lay next to her as she gained control of herself. I was of one mind that wanted to roll over on top of her and ram my cock into her pussy, but the other thought, Oh my God. That's Mom. You can't fuck her.

"That was so great, baby. Mommy's going to please you now," she said as she rolled over on top of me and started to kiss me. First on the lips, then on the chest, the stomach, and then she looked at my cock.

"What should I do with this rock hard cock?"

I didn't answer her. I knew what I wanted, but I just couldn't say it

"Baby, do you want Mommy to suck your cock?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes Mom, please suck my cock." There, I said it.

She sucked the head of my cock like it was a Popsicle. Using her lips and tongue she concentrated on the tip. It was intensely stimulating, but it wasn't satisfying. I needed her to go all the way down my shaft.

My hands found her head and my fingers combed through her hair. The same long brown hair that was tickling my balls. I took her by the back of the head and pulled her mouth down hard onto my cock.

"Mmmph," she murmured in protest, but I didn't care. I looked down and I was fucking Mom's face. I wanted to ram my cock in her mouth so hard.

She was straddling me, and she had that pretty tight ass sticking up in the sky. It was probably for my benefit. It was all too amazing. The object of my illicit desires had her lips around my cock, and our eyes locked as my cock pierced those ruby red lips over and over.

She gave me a wink, and then she got down to business. She started pumping my dick harder and faster than ever. I rolled my head back and concentrated on the pleasure Mom was giving my prick.

I looked down again to see Mom working my cock, as her ass bobbed up and down. Closing my eyes again the pleasure built more in my cock. I was close to coming.

"Oh God, Mom, suck my cock. Oh God, I'm going to come in your mouth," I yelled, and she responded by pumping my member even harder.

I took one last look at her lovely ass, her long brown hair, and her working my cock with those pretty, red, pouty lips, and I came. It was so intense that I lifted off the bed and trembled with pleasure. Mom stopped pumping my cock, but just kept sucking on it until all of my come was inside her.

She kept my dick in her mouth long after I had finished. I guess to swallow all of my jism. She then lay on top of me, using my stomach for a pillow with my penis nestled between her tits. It never did go totally flaccid.

"Are you okay, Ricky?" she asked without looking up at me.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"I mean, are you okay with this?"

"I guess," I said. I didn't know how I felt. I had wanted to do this for so long, and yet I felt a little guilty.

"Do you still love me?"

"Yes Mom, of course I love you."

"I love you too baby, and I just want to take care of you. Mommy needs you to take care of her too. Now that she has no one."

"I'll take care of you Mom."

"I know you will baby. I love you so much."

"I love you too Mom."

"Let me get dinner," she said as she got out of bed, picked up her bikini bottoms, and walked out of my room. The last thing I saw was her pretty little ass as I fell off to sleep.





Substitute



As I'm writing this, I'm rubbing the baby bump in my stomach. I'm pregnant with Ricky's baby. The doctors say it's a miracle. I'm in my second trimester, and the baby is healthy and growing normally.

I told Jimmy about the baby, but instead of being mad he was happy. He moved back in and we are seeing a marriage counselor. He knows that it's not his baby, how could it be, but he never asked. I think he knows who the father is.

I had a glorious week with Ricky, and the memories will have to last me a lifetime. I was Ricky's Aunt, his "Mom" and his lover, and now I'm going to have his baby. Whether it's a girl or boy, we want to name it Ricky.

*

Dear reader, I know that incest stories, especially mother/son stories are the most popular. Never having had a Oedipus complex I found it hard to relate. I have read a few, and I must admit that they are quite erotic. This was my version. This situation was the only way I could "get my head around it." I hope you enjoyed it.



Substitute



It wasn't that Violet was a prude. She knew damn well that a couple of the girls who'd been at her party would be trying new boyfriends for size that very night, and good luck to them. They were all of age and if that's what they decided to do, that was their business.

And if they allowed a new friend to buy them some extra drinks after the party they would have to look after themselves. She wasn't their mother and they knew what they were doing.

However, what was her responsibility were any silly girls who over imbibed at her party and fell asleep while there. As far as she was concerned it was a case of her house and her party, so her responsibility.

It wasn't that she distrusted any of the boys in particular, but boys will be boys and men will be boys as well if they think they have a chance. Accordingly, Violet had kept an eye on any guests who were drinking too much and made sure they were watched over. 

It turned out three of the girls had had to be directed to the bedroom to sleep it off. Two of them she had been able to wake and see safely on their way home with friends, but Carlene was still in the spare bedroom, snoring her head off.

As she was the last remaining guest, Violet intended to check to see that she was still OK and then to go to bed herself, letting Carlene crash for the night. Tidying the house could wait until the morning.

Violet walked down the hall to the spare bedroom, stuck her head in the door and screamed, "What the hell do you think you're playing at, you bastard?"

Martin, who had at that point in time been carefully removing Carlene's jeans, jumped and swore softly. He turned and glared at Violet.

"What does it look like I'm doing, Vi?" he asked. "I'd have said it was pretty obvious."

"I can see what you're doing," snapped Violet. "How could you? I'll thank you to leave now."

"Carlene is my current girlfriend, Vi," Martin pointed out. "I wasn't planning on doing anything to her that I haven't done before with her enthusiastic co-operation."

"That's what you say," said Violet. "As far as I'm concerned Carlene is my guest and you're trying to take advantage of the fact that she's out cold to molest her. Why haven't you gone yet?"

Martin smiled. "I haven't gone yet because I'm feeling incredibly horny," he said. "I was going to let Carlene assuage my needs but now I won't bother. I'd much rather have a body that is awake and wriggling under me. Guess who that leaves as being available to satisfy my needs?"

Violet blinked. He didn't mean her, surely? She noted the determined look on his face as he moved towards her, decided discretion was the better part of valour and bolted, heading for her own bedroom.

She reached her bedroom, only to find Martin coming through the door before she could close it. He was laughing as he kicked the door shut behind him and moved towards her.

"Alone at last," he murmured. "The only other person in the house is Carlene and she's gone bye-byes. Isn't that fortunate."

"Don't you come near me. Don't you dare," snapped Violet at the advancing Martin. "If you lay one finger on me I'll scream."

"Don't be childish, Vi," Martin told her. "There's no-one here to hear you. And I'll be laying a lot more than a finger on you. Are you going to do this the easy way or the hard way?"

"If by the easy way you mean I should roll over and play dead you can forget it," Violet told him. "Try to touch me and I'll scratch your eyes out."

"OK," said Martin, and lunged.

Violet did struggle. He'd give her full marks for that. Even though he captured her wrists and held them firmly in one hand while he slowly stripped off her dress and underwear, she did struggle, kicking at him and trying to bite.

Still holding Violet's wrists Martin undressed as well. Harder than he'd thought it would be, stripping one-handed while holding a wriggling woman with the other hand.

Naked, Martin looked over his prize, standing to the side as he did so, fully aware that Violet had come very close to unmanning him with her knee.

"You have a lovely figure, Vi," Martin said softly. His free hand ran over her breasts and then down to caress her mound. "Bit prickly," he murmured. "You haven't shaved today. But that's OK. I don't mind."

Releasing Violet's wrists, Martin scooped her up and tossed her onto the bed, following fast so that he held her pinned, one of his legs pressing between hers.

His first line of attack was capturing Violet's wrists again, fortunately before her nails made contact with his cheeks. He was laughing at her as he pinned her wrists above her head.

Lying half on and half off her, Martin knew she could feel the rigidity of his erection pressing against her. He could see her eyes flickering in that direction, trying to see what he was doing, but for now he was content to just hold her in place while he stroked her breasts.

Violet was twisting under Martin, trying to get out from under him. She was acutely conscious of his erection pressing against her and even more conscious of the way his hairy leg was jammed between hers, holding them apart and pressing firmly against her mound. The fact that he was playing with her breasts barely registered compared to that leg pressing against her mound and the realisation of what that erection was going to do once he'd moved his leg away from where it was.

She squirmed helplessly, excitement rising, unbidden and unwanted.

Martin was grinning, amused at the way Violet was writhing under him. Didn't she realise that it was exciting him, her helplessness making him feel all the more powerful? Silly woman, trying to interfere with what he was doing. Now she was learning what happens when you stick your nose in where it wasn't wanted. 

Martin slid his hand down along Violet's body, moving between his leg and her mound. His hand closed possessively over it. Ignoring Violet's shriek of fury he started slowly massaging her mound.

Violet twisted from side to side, trying to throw Martin off her. Uselessly, she fully realised, but she was not just going to let him touch her without at least trying to resist. She gasped and swore at him when she felt his fingers slipping inside her, stroking and teasing, encouraging her natural excitement.

Martin moved so he was positioned between Violet's thighs, his erection now pressing against her mound. Now the real struggle started. Fingers eased Violet's lips apart, giving Martin better access. Careful adjustment allowed him to align his erection with Violet's parted lips, only to lose it again as Violet managed to twist aside.

The struggle continued for several minutes. Each time Martin thought he was right to go Violet managed to move aside, avoiding his invasion of her body. Eventually, however, Violet twisted the wrong way and, with a shout of triumph, Martin surged forward.

This didn't end the struggle. Every inch Martin gained he had to fight for against Violet's fierce resistance. It was fortunate for him that her excitement had built to a level where she was well lubricated. This gave him the advantage, letting him slide smoothly forward just a little more each time Violet's struggles lessened.

"Ha!" Martin gave another triumphant shout as he finally drove forward those last couple of inches, pinning a furious Violet firmly against the mattress.

Violet glared up at Martin as he reared back slightly. She could feel him in her. She could feel every inch of him filling her, distending her passage, stretching it for his pleasure. His hands came around and closed upon her breasts. He had, she realised with a start, released her wrists.

"You might as well relax now, Vi," Martin calmly told her. "You fought and lost and to the victor go the spoils." He squeezed her breasts to emphasise what he meant.

Violet didn't say anything. She knew he'd won. He was inside her and there was nothing she could do about it. She lay there, helpless and excited. And angry. Angry because she was helpless. Even more angry because she was excited by her helplessness.

Martin pulled back slightly and returned. And again. And a third time. Violet bit her lip, trying to lie still, not wanting to react to that slow sweet drag of his cock inside her.

Slowly Martin increased the length and power of his stroke, still moving relatively slowly, waiting for Violet's own body to betray her. He carefully refrained from showing any signs of gloating when he felt her first tentative push against him as he sank into her.

Violet cursed quietly to herself as she felt her body reluctantly responding to Martin's expertise. Then she sighed. Martin was well and truly engaged in raping her and it was too late now to make any further protests. She might as well just go along with what was happening. At least he wasn't being violent, but seemed to be putting some effort into pleasing her.

Which Martin was indeed doing. He wanted more than just the pleasure of taking Violet while she was unwilling. He wanted to have her respond to him and join him in mutual pleasure. A sense of triumph welled up in Martin as he felt Violet finally responding.

Now that Violet was with him, Martin started driving in harder and faster, enjoying both the pleasure of the sex and Violet's surrender. He thrust into her, feeling her response and kept on pressing home, enjoying the littler sounds that Violet was making as she gasped and bucked underneath him.

Martin's hands mauled Violet's breasts, squeezing and massaging them, rubbing her tight little nipples hard, relishing the feel of the hard nubs against his palms. His hips were rising and falling with explosive energy, driving him deep into Violet with each downward thrust, rejoicing as she moved helplessly up to meet him with each lunge, lost in her body's desires.

For all the effort that Martin was putting in to enjoying himself he was also doing his best to prolong their encounter. When he felt that Violet was approaching her climax he slowed, just enough to keep her simmering. Also, just enough to keep himself simmering and on the edge.

Violet was lost in sensation. She knew she was ready to climax but for some reason she couldn't quite get there. It had to be Martin's fault, she just knew it.

"Finish it, damn you," she shrieked at Martin, writhing helplessly under him as he hammered home. He was driving her to the point of no return, but so slowly she was going to scream in frustration. She needed to finish this and she needed to finish this now.

Even hovering on the brink of his own climax, Martin was still hanging on, his mind still clear. He knew just what he was doing to his now willing victim.

"I'm sorry," he gasped out. "Did you say you wanted me to stop?"

A shriek of frustration was his answer.

"Martin, no, don't you dare. For god's sake, finish it," Violet wailed, her capitulation complete.

Martin had every intention of finishing it, no matter what Violet might have said. Her surrender just made it that little bit sweeter. He drove into her in earnest, short sharp strokes that would let him have his release and bring Violet to the point she wanted.

Martin felt his release burning out of him, splashing into Violet, who responded with a scream of relief, relaxing and shuddering under Martin, her passage closing tightly around him, holding him until she was fully satisfied. 

Marin lay next to Violet, watching her. It seemed to him that she drifted from post climatic release to sleep without even knowing she was nodding off. He eased himself off the bed and dressed.

As he departed Martin was smiling. He strongly suspected that the next time Violet found a guest being undressed by a man she'd turn a blind eye.



Substitute Baby



As I approached the kitchen that Saturday morning, eager for a cup of coffee, looking forward to a nice relaxing day, I heard my daughter stomping around the kitchen, dressed in just panties and a nursing bra, cursing and slamming cabinet doors.

“SHARON LYNN REYNOLDS! What is your problem?” I said, irritated that my good mood was about to be ruined. When my daughter is on a rampage, she can piss off the Pope. 

“Oh, MOTHER!” 

“Uh oh.” I thought. “When she calls me Mother, I’m in for a long, miserable day.”

“I can’t find my FUCKING breast pump.” She replied, as her eyes fired daggers at me.

“There is no reason to use that kind of language. Sit down and relax, I’ll look for it.”

“You try relaxing when your breasts are about to become two milk erupting volcanoes” She fired back.

“I’m sorry, Dear.” Trying to soothe her. I understood how she felt. Her baby was barely two months old and couldn’t possibly consume all the milk she was producing. As I began looking for the pump a ridiculous idea began to form.

Beginning with the last couple of months of Sharon’s pregnancy, I began to have impure thoughts about her. My daughter is normally petite with smallish breasts but as her pregnancy advanced, her breasts began to get enormous, just as mine did when I was pregnant. She went from an “A” cup to putting a strain on “C” cup nursing bras. They were like two giant cones. She also neglected any kind of modesty. By the eighth month she was waddling around the house usually dressed in a filmy nightgown.

I had occasional fantasies about other women since I got married, but had never had an opportunity or an overwhelming desire to follow up on them. I had a two year affair with my best friend, Gail, in high school and enjoyed every minute of it, but my husband kept me more than satisfied sexually and every other way. But just looking at my daughter’s breasts and the strong desire to suck on them, brought back erotic memories of Gail’s hard nipples between my lips as I fingered her to one climax after another. Just the thought of such an incestuous act should have quelled that desire but putting that logic aside, the idea, from a purely carnal standpoint, was deliciously sick. Just looking at her would turn me on, and watching her nurse the baby would cause me to have to leave the room immediately so I could masturbate. I tried to attribute my sexual cravings to the fact that I had been without a man for nearly a year and was horny.

We were both widows, me at 40 and my daughter at 21, and we had both been celibate for nearly year, at least I know I had. My husband and son had both died in an auto accident while coming home from a fishing trip. Sharon didn’t know she was pregnant at the time. When she did find out, she moved back home.

The idea that began forming in my mind while I was searching for the breast pump was making me even more horny. I tried to think of anything else, mopping the floor, cleaning out the garage, going grocery shopping but my libido chased any traces sanity from my mind.

“I can’t find it, but I have an idea.” I said as my nipples hardened and my hands began to tingle. “ I can help you.”

“How?”

“Well, I could….oh, forget it.” 

“Forget what, Mother?”

“Oh God, was I really doing this…getting ready to break the incest taboo?” I was thinking. “Was I ready to give in to my incestuous desires? Was I ready to have a sexual relationship with my own child not knowing what the effect would be on our relationship?” 

But the sexual tension of the last few months overrode rational thinking.

“Well…….” Afraid of her reaction but charging ahead anyway. “I can take your milk.”

“How?”

“In my mouth.”

“MOTHER!….Have you lost your mind?

“No.” Assuming a take charge demeanor as I approached her, my legs beginning to turn to jelly, “Turn your chair to face me.” I commanded, hoping I didn’t lose my nerve.

Sharon obeyed without a word but there was a look of pure shock on her face. I got on my knees, my heart pounding in my ears, spread her legs, moved between them, reached up and bared her left breast.

“Mother! You can’t be serious. I can’t believe this.”

“Close your eyes. That might make it easier on you.”

As I gazed upon the beautiful, voluptuous objects of my shameless desire, my insides were trembling. Sharon took a deep breath as I took her left breast in my hands, amazed and seduced by the combined smell of perfume and baby powder…the smoothness of her young skin ….and the taboo of incest…and licked the little drop of milk from her swollen nipple. Her nipple immediately hardened and I heard her inhale as I took it between my lips. I knew in the back of my mind that I should stop immediately but I was so turned on that I didn’t care. The warm pleasant taste of her milk coupled with the feel of her hard nipple between my lips was intoxicating. After a few minutes of nursing, Sharon began to moan. When I held her nipple between my lips and pulled on it, she yelled, “GOD,” as she put both hands behind my head, arched her back and attempted to shove her whole breast in my mouth. Then I heard a snap and Sharon moved my lips to her right breast. Taking the right breast in my mouth while my right hand still squeezed the nipple of the other one, I sensed Sharon’s breathing increase as her hands pressed my mouth tighter against her tit and her ass began squirming on the chair seat.

Moving my mouth back to the left side again, while my left hand was pulling at the nipple on her right breast, I moved my right hand between Sharon’s cunt and the chair seat. It was hot and wet. As I moved the crotch of her panties aside and inserted one finger in her vagina, Sharon yelled, “OH, MY GOD” and scooted her ass to the edge of the chair. She felt so wet and warm and slippery…it was just incredible…totally different than touching myself….she was so turned on that she was writhing on my finger.

When I inserted a second finger, Sharon moved her hands to grip the sides of the chair, planted her feet on the floor, raised her ass off the seat and groaned loudly. “FUCK ME, MOM!…..PLEASE!… F…U…C…K ME!”

I was completely shameless by this time, inserting a third finger, pumping rapidly in and out of her cunt, attempting to match the driving force of her pelvis against my hand, trying to maintain contact with her swollen clit with my thumb, clamping her nipples with my hand and mouth, getting hotter myself as Sharon moaned, “FUCK ME!” , repeatedly, each plea sounding more urgent than the last.

Finally, she went completely silent as her whole body became rigid, every muscle locked in place for a couple of seconds, then her thighs began to quiver. Then I felt it. The hot fluid surging from her vagina, flooding my already soaked hand, as she emitted a long sigh. I was so intoxicated by the smell of sex all around me that I moved down to get my first taste of my daughter’s pussy. It was heady, the smell of our sweat, the aroma of her cunt, as I lapped up all I could of the first love juice I had tasted in years.

When Sharon’s thighs quit quivering, she relaxed on the chair, apparently satisfied, but I wasn’t.

My own pussy was needing attention so bad that I spread the skirt of my robe, put my left hand on my pussy, threw my head back, closed my eyes and fucked myself to a quick, mind numbing climax while licking my daughter‘s juices from my right hand. 

I still had my eyes closed, enjoying the aftermath of my orgasm when I heard the baby crying. Sharon jumped up immediately and went to take care of the baby and after a few moments I shakily got to my feet and went to my bathroom.

I sat on the commode for at least 30 minutes trembling from sheer delight, guilt and fear of what I had done with my only child. I finally showered, dressed and left the house without seeing Sharon. 

I was gone most of the day, returning just in time to fix dinner. We were virtually silent through out the meal, only talking about the baby a couple of times.

Later that evening, I was propped up in bed, reading a book……well just looking at it really. My mind was busy reliving the episode in the kitchen and wondering what my daughter’s thoughts were when Sharon tapped on my door and said, “Mom, can I talk to you a minute?”

“Sure, honey, come on in.”

I moved over a little to give her room to sit on the edge of the bed. Needless to say I was extremely nervous. She had obviously just came from the shower as her hair was still damp and she was dressed in a terry cloth robe.

As she approached the bed, she opened the robe, let it slide to the floor at her feet, exhibiting her totally nude body, cupped her swollen breasts and with a little wicked smile on her lips, “I still can’t find my breast pump”. 

“Oh, sweetie…come here…I can’t find mine either”.

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



Substitute Bride



"Are you okay, honey? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

Kathryn started as she realized the flight attendant was speaking to her. "What?" she sputtered. "Um, oh, yes, thank you."

The flight attendant cocked her head. "Are you sure?" she asked. "Can I get you something to drink?"

Kathryn shook her head, but then changed her mind. "Water. No - gin and tonic, please."

The stewardess nodded, and began making her drink. As she did, Kathryn found herself frowning. Are you sure about that? she wondered to herself. Didn't you have enough chaos with alcohol last night?

Perhaps that was true, but dammit she needed a drink right now. She looked at her watch. Ten o'clock in the morning. Fuck it, she thought. Who made up that five o'clock rule anyway? It wasn't like she had gotten any sleep anyway.

All she wanted to do was sleep. She was so tired, so exhausted, so... ashamed. She wanted to close her eyes and put the events of the past fifteen hours behind her.

"Behind me," she muttered to herself. The double entendre stuck on her lips with a bittersweet flavor.

"I'm sorry?" the stewardess asked, handing Kathryn her drink.

Kathryn shook her head. "Nothing, sorry," she said, taking the cup. "Just mumbling to myself."

The flight attendant's lips came up in a practiced, plastic smile, and she moved on. Kathryn was free once again to trudge through her own thoughts.

The drink tasted terrible. Don't complain, she didn't even charge you for it, her inner Jiminy Cricket scolded her. It's the most guilt-free thing you've had in your mouth today.

It wasn't my fault! another voice protested, but that voice sounded weak and unconvincing. It wasn't... I... I'm sure of it...

She struggled with the thought and her memories, hoping that she could find some kernel of evidence that perhaps she was, indeed, innocent. At the same time, she dreaded additional introspection and reliving the shame.

She's going to kill you when she finds out, Kathryn thought, changing internal tracks. You've destroyed not only your relationship with your best friend, but her brand new marriage as well.

She took another sip. Yep, it was awful, not like the heavenly ones she had been drinking in the dressing room the day before.

Kathryn sighed. She realized that she had been drinking for nearly an entire day, straight. Then again, the mother of the bride could always make you want to turn to drink, regardless of what time it was. 

Mrs. Davis, Kathryn sighed to herself. She desperately wanted to blame someone, and Rachel's mother was as good of a candidate as any. If only you hadn't been such a bitch, none of this would have happened.

She knew it wasn't an excuse, even if it might have been true on some warped level. The woman had a way of taking the best-laid plans and turning them completely inside-out. 

The plan had been to join the bride to help her prepare for the ceremony. At the time, Kathryn and Denise, the other bridesmaid, had no idea of the hornet's nest they were walking into. 

Excited about the big day, they had greeted the bride with an enthusiastic "Woo!" scream, but Rachel was too distracted to be bothered with any of that.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she said, sourly. "Woo. Now get your skinny asses in here!"

They entered the resort suite, a gigantic three-bedroom monstrosity that currently had absolutely no surface uncovered.

"Holy shit, Rachel," Denise said, awestruck. "Were you robbed?"

"Ha, ha, very funny," Rachel said. "You have no idea how badly I've been needing you."

Denise turned to Kathryn. "I thought we were early?"

Kathryn shrugged. Then they heard it.

"Raaaa-chel?" The screech was unmistakeable. Rachel ground her teeth and closed her eyes. Silently she moved her lips as she counted to ten. The tension was so obvious she looked as if every muscle in her body was on the verge of locking up.

"Yes, mom?" She said the word as if it poisoned her to speak it aloud.

"I swear, I have no idea why you decided to go with this pattern," her mother said, entering the room looking through the copious folds of Rachel's wedding dress to hold up the deep cut blouse portion. "When I got married, this type of thing just wasn't done. I mean, there is absolutely no reason to be naked at your own -- oh hello girls!"

"Hello Mrs. Davis," Kathryn and Denise intoned. Mrs. Davis smiled pleasantly at the practiced and time-worn tradition.

"Anyway, really," Mrs. Davis said, turning to her daughter. "This kind of thing is totally inappropriate."

Rachel began counting again. 

"Uh oh," Kathryn muttered to the side. "I know that look." Denise nodded.

Mrs. Davis held the dress out in front of her, shaking it in front of Rachel as if to prove a point. "When I got married," she repeated, "this kind of dress made a statement that we didn't want to make."

"How long do you think this has been going on?" Denise whispered.

Rachel immediately started her counting over again.

"About twenty-five years," Kathryn whispered back. "Mrs. Davis..." she called, trying to get the older woman's attention.

"I mean, really," Mrs. Davis said, holding open the straps that would cover the bride's breasts. "What kind of statement does this make? I'll tell you what kind: the wrong kind."

"Mrs. Davis..." Kathryn said again. Denise took a step back.

Rachel's mother was, as usual, in her own world. She had a point to make and, as she had always done, felt that it was crucial that she get that point across so that her only daughter could reap the benefit of her wisdom. "You know, Rachel," she said, thoughtfully. "That other dress - you know, the one with the cute bow in the front - would have been so much better. At least it would have been appropriate. After all, what kind of ideas will this give David?"

At the mention of her fiancé's name, Rachel's eyes snapped open, all attempts to count down her anger abandoned. "Maybe he'll get the idea to whip it out right there and come all over my fucking tits in front of everybody!" Rachel screamed.

Everything stopped. Then Mrs. Davis gasped in horror. "Rachel!" She raised a hand to her mouth, completely shocked by Rachel's language and tone of voice.

"Houston, we have liftoff," Denise mumbled to herself.

Kathryn, uncertain of what to do, raised her hands up to diffuse the situation. Rachel had never, ever talked back to her mother, let alone in this fashion.

Rachel apparently wasn't done, however. "Maybe, maybe," she shrieked, taking a threatening step forward, "he'll get the idea that his wife-to-be isn't a shriveled up prune of a hag with the Sahara desert for a cunt!"

Mrs. Davis took two steps backwards as if she were physically struck. Instantly Kathryn and Denise were in motion. Kathryn moved to Mrs. Davis and began gathering the dress out of the stunned woman's arms. Her mother was opening and closing her mouth like a freshly caught mackerel.

"Well, I never!" she finally managed to gasp out.

Denise reached Rachel and moved in front of her, preventing her from taking any more steps towards her mother. "Yes, we know, we know!" she shouted, hysteria beginning to set in. "Maybe if you did once in a while Daddy wouldn't be so high strung all the time!"

"Mrs. Davis," Kathryn said quietly. "You know, as the maid of honor I think I probably should take it from here."

The woman blinked, and looked at her. "I, I was only trying to help," she stammered.

"Help?" Rachel yelled. "Help!? I'm getting married in three fucking hours, Mom! You think you're helping me? By criticizing my dress?"

Kathryn never took her eyes from Mrs. Davis'. "Pre-wedding jitters," she explained. Mrs. Davis nodded, dumbly.

"I'm not changing my dress three hours before the wedding, Mother!" Rachel yelled. Denise was physically holding her back now.

Kathryn had removed the dress completely by this point from Mrs. Davis' arms, and had brought her over to the door. "You know," Kathryn said, as if she just remembered something. "I just remembered. "I don't think anyone has told the ring-bearer and the flower-girl exactly what they have to do yet."

Mrs. Davis seemed to snap back with a purpose. "Why not?" she asked. "Oh dear, that has to be done!"

She turned and hurried out the door that Kathryn held open for her. Rachel called after her, "And I'm definitely not changing it to that dress with the giant bow on the front. No one wants to wear a wedding dress that makes their tits look like they just won the Kentucky-fucking-Derby!"

Kathryn shut the door as fast as she could.

Rachel stood there for a moment, breathing hard as if she had just moved a mountain. She took a final, deep breath, and said through gritted teeth, "I need a drink. Who's with me?"

Minutes later, Kathryn had her perfect gin and tonic, while Rachel and Denise had opted for a straight shot of vodka. Denise raised her shot glass, and the other girls followed suit. "To..." she began, but couldn't think of anything.

Kathryn smirked. "The Kentucky-fucking-Derby," she said. All three of them had to settle down for more than ten minutes before any of them were capable of drinking anything.

"Wow, Rachel," Denise said, putting down her empty shot glass. "I've never heard you talk to your mom like that before."

Rachel poured herself another shot. "I never have talked to her like that before," she said. "But something just snapped, ya know?"

Kathryn and Denise nodded in agreement. "I mean, she's been at me all day!" Rachel continued in exasperation. "I thought that I was going to have the morning to sort everything out. I mean, I had given her some errands to run and thought she'd be out of the way."

"What happened?" Kathryn asked.

Rachel took another shot, before Denise took the bottle. "You know exactly what happened, Kat," she said. There was exhaustion in her voice. "She 'delegated' everything to my father so that she could 'help' me get ready." She made continuous air quotes with her fingers.

"Yeah," Denise said. "We kind of got that impression."

They stood for a moment without saying anything,

"'Shriveled up prune?'" Denise said.

"'Sahara desert of a cunt?'" Kathryn echoed.

Then at the same time, all three of them squealed, "Well I never!'" and fell into another bout of uncontrollable laughter.

"Oh my god, Rachel," Kathryn said, looking at her glass. "This is the best I've ever tasted!"

"I know, right?" Rachel agreed, lifting her own drink in a salute. "Today, my friends, we get only the good stuff!"

"I thought you were going to get the good stuff after the reception," Denise said, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"Oh, no, Denise," Rachel replied, coyly. "That's when I get the great stuff."

All three women giggled wildly. "A toast, then!" Kathryn proposed, lifting her glass in the air. "To the wedding night great stuff!"

"Hear, hear!" Rachel chimed in. Suddenly, her face went white. "My veil! Where's the veil?"

She turned out of the room and began tearing around the hotel suite looking for her veil.

"You know," Denise said to Kathryn. "I was a bit hesitant when you suggested giving her something to drink before she was even dressed. But you're right, she's definitely calmer."

Rachel raced past the open door. "My veil! My veil!"

Kathryn looked at Denise. "Oh, without a doubt." There was a loud crash in the other room. "She's much better now."

Rachel swung into view from behind the doorframe. "Come on," she wailed. "I can't find my veil. Where's my beautiful veil?"

Denise opened her mouth to say something, but Rachel turned back into the main living suite again, the white lace of the veil on top of her head swooshing behind her. Denise closed her mouth.

"Should have thought of this sooner," she commented.

"The wedding will be ruined!" came a hysterical cry from the other room.

"Whatever made you think of getting her a drink to calm her nerves?" Denise deadpanned. "It's been such an uneventful day."

The next two hours went smoothly. The shots, as well as the company, greatly improved Rachel's mood. Finally it was time to admire their handiwork.

"So...?" Rachel said, shifting her weight from side to side.

Rachel's dress, despite the disapproving criticism from her mother, was stunning. The design that her mother had been so upset about cast Rachel's breasts in a truly flattering light. Two lightly embroidered, diamond-shaped pieces draped around the front swells of her breasts, leaving enough skin showing down her side to easily see the curves of her flesh from the side. The backless dress showed off Rachel's truly flawless body, a well-toned back that she had diligently exercised for months leading up to the wedding.

Such dedication to her workout regimen paid off in front, too. The neckline itself dropped below her navel, framing it and the navel piercing as if it were in a jewelry case. Her flat stomach held a feminine softness to it that any woman would envy, and any man would find intoxicating. A built-in corset kept the plunging neckline from expanding and revealing too much. Tiny black silk laces threaded up either side, keeping the silken fabric in place, no matter how Rachel turned her body.

It should not have worked, but it did. It struck an unorthodox balance between class, glamour, and unrepentant sex appeal.

"Fuck me," Kathryn said, and meant it.

"Right now?" Rachel giggled. "Why Kathryn, people will talk!" She covered her mouth with her hand in mock shyness.

Kathryn raised an eyebrow. "Hell, if I had a dick I'd whip it out right now and come all over your tits!"

Rachel smiled. "Actually," she said, her voice turning strangely earnest. "That part was kind of true. This dress makes me feel kind of sexy, and I know David would want to do it."

She giggled again, and then her face grew slightly more serious. "Besides, I had to make sure that you didn't show me up. Again."

Even though her tone was joking, it was easy to see Rachel was trying to hide real pain behind the expression. As spectacular as Rachel's choice of dress was, and as gifted as she had been with her ideal body shape, she had always harbored a latent envy of Kathryn's oversized breasts. Having been friends long before puberty hit either one of them, Kathryn's early blossoming had the unfortunate effect of leaving Rachel and Denise feeling like they needed to "catch up," but ultimately unable to do so. Long after Denise, and then Rachel, reached their natural sizes, Kathryn seemed to continue growing, even though her body maintained a petite frame.

Side by side, especially through their teenage years, Kathryn got the boys' attention, and desperately wanted more 'normal'-sized breasts. What's more, whenever she looked in the mirror, their size took over her psyche. She couldn't see herself as anything more than her breasts, convincing herself that she was actually fat, and risked anorexia frequently as she grew older. It was only after college that she had finally begun to accept herself and her body type.

Rachel, on the other hand, had often made her envy known through back-handed compliments. She said that she knew Kathryn didn't want the attention, but deep down it was an open secret that she would jump at the chance to exchange places if at all possible.

What's more, she was sure that there was no exaggeration in Rachel's words; she had seen the way David looked at her chest. By this age she had gotten used to the reaction from men and women and had learned to roll with it. Now, though, she wondered if Rachel was being more truthful than she intended about her motivation for this much exposure.

"Trust me," Kathryn said, "everyone's going to be looking at you today."

This seemed to please Rachel immensely.

"Oh my god, I forgot to take pictures!" Denise cried, and ran to get her phone.

"By the way," Kathryn said, suddenly remembering something. "I didn't know you had a ring-bearer and flower girl. I thought this was going to be a small wedding, only about twenty people or so."

Rachel raised a finger to her mouth as an evil grin spread across her face. "There aren't," she said. "But she left, didn't she?"

Kathryn nodded, and the two of them laughed. "Oh, that reminds me!" Rachel said. "Don't forget, David wants you to hit the record button on the video before we go down the aisle."

Kathryn nodded. "Right," she agreed.

"We couldn't afford a videographer, so this is the only way we'll get a recording of the event," Rachel continued.

"I know," Kathryn said.

Rachel paused. "You're going to remember, right?" she finally said. "You haven't had too many gin and tonics, have you?"

"Don't worry about me," Kathryn protested. "It's you and those high heels that should be worried after all those shots!"

Rachel exaggerated a wobble of unsteadiness. "Ihm fihn," she slurred. "I shtopped the sh..sh... drinking hoursh ago." She finished with an exaggerated hiccup.

"Rachel!" Denise called from the main living room. "Photographer's here!"

Rachel looked at Kathryn and they both smiled and did a restrained happy-squeal. "It's time!"

Rachel leaned in and gave Kathryn a hug. "You're the bestest friend in the whole wide world," she said, reciting their incantation from primary school.

"No, you are," Kathryn said, completing the recitation and hugging her friend back.

"Oooh! Watch the makeup, watch the makeup!"

The next two hours whirled by as the photographer took pictures of every possible combination of the bride and groom, wedding party, and parents of the couple. Despite the budgetary limitations, David had done everything within his power to pull out all the stops for his future bride. He paid such close attention to every excruciating detail that no one would have known that it wasn't prepared by a professional wedding planner with a budget several times larger.

Kathryn, for her part, floated through the ceremony as if it were her own. Neither she nor Denise had brought escorts, and the groomsmen - all friends of David's - had brought their own girlfriends. Even so, as she stood next to Rachel, she couldn't help but feel that some of the radiant splendor of the day had caught her up in the magic as well.

True to her word, Rachel remained steady on her feet, despite confessing a nice alcoholic buzz before walking down the aisle. Kathryn looked at her, wondering when her time would be, and whether she would be next. David was an adorable man, devoted and loving - a true knight in shining armor.

This gave her hope. She and Rachel were so similar in so many ways, similar in looks, similar in personality. They were often confused for sisters, sharing a matching build, height, and blonde hair. In fact, on occasion even Denise would come up behind one of them and accidentally call the wrong name.

If she can find a guy like David , Kathryn thought, maybe I can too.

She thought that she may have even developed a small crush on David. At least, she had definitely developed a crush on the idea of him. She loved the way he adored Rachel, and she found his loyalty and dedication extremely compelling. Plus, he had kind of a quiet, geeky cuteness to him that she often found herself attracted to.

The recessional music started, and she started to drift back to the present. This had been the perfect couple, and the perfect ceremony. It was a picture-perfect moment to be captured for all posterity. It's too bad that David couldn't afford a videographer, that would have been --




Substitute Bride



In a surreal sense of slow-motion, Kathryn felt the world fall out from under her. She suddenly couldn't breathe, and her blood ran ice-cold in her veins. The world spun chaotically in her vision and she looked desperately toward the camera in the back of the room, hoping against hope that she would see the red activity light.

The camera sat on its tripod, focused directly at her, dead. Non-functional. It stared at her, unblinking in its naked accusation, mocking her incompetence. Kathryn wanted to stop the world and get off, or at least jump into a bottomless abyss that should open up beneath her feet any time now.

She looked at Rachel and David, walking down the aisle ahead of her, oblivious to the catastrophe that had befallen them. Everyone was smiling, clapping, laughing. Every moment of this was perfect, and every perfect moment drove a spike of guilt into her heart.

Denise nudged her from behind. "What's wrong with you?" she hissed through a plastered smile.

Kathryn just looked back to the camera, Denise's eyes following. "Oh shit," Denise murmured, comprehending.

'Oh shit' is right , Kathryn told herself.

Once through the chapel doors, the wedding party formed into a receiving line. Before she could stop herself, Kathryn leaned into David as she passed. "David, I'm so sorry,"

David's smile didn't waver, uncomprehending. He was lost in the moment. "Hmm? What?"

"I'm so sorry," she repeated. "I didn't press record on the camera. I'm so sorry!"

David stiffened, realization dawning across his face. Rachel, overhearing the exchange, snapped a horrified look towards Kathryn.

"I'm sorry," she repeated again, and hurried to her spot at the end of the receiving line before either of them could say anything. She stood uncomfortably as each of the guests shook David's hand and kissed Rachel's cheek, offering their congratulations and gushing about the ceremony.

The wedding party moved immediately across the hall into the reception area. The music started up as the DJ took his cue, and David led Rachel onto the dance floor for their first dance. The remaining guests assembled around them, watching and clapping to the up-beat music.

Denise stood next to Kathryn, clapping her hands in time with the music. "What are you going to do?"

Kathryn just stared ahead, catatonic. She glanced down and saw that her hands were making clapping motion, but without any actual force enough to make noise. Her stomach was churning, nausea and grief fighting for which was going to control her first.

"Wasn't that amazing?" she heard a familiar voice next to her. She turned slowly to the opposite side and saw Mrs. Davis standing there, tears of joy in her eyes.

Kathryn looked at her, dumbfounded. After the berating she had taken at the hands of her daughter only hours before, she managed to maintain her public poise. There was something about her generation of women that knew how to suppress internal emotional turmoil. Kathryn wished she had been born in a different age.

"The ceremony was so perfect," Mrs. Davis continued. "Did you know that he saved up for three years for this day?"

"Three... years...?" Kathryn heard herself repeat.

Mrs. Davis nodded. "He even had to take on a second job for six months," she continued, not knowing that every word twisted Kathryn's emotional knife harder and deeper. "I can't tell you how much he hated that job. He practiced his vows for weeks, you know."

Kathryn could only shake her head. No, she didn't know.

"Oh, yes!" Mrs. Davis said admiringly. "He said that he was going to have it recorded for all time, and he wanted it absolutely perfect. He said that he was going to put it in a safety deposit box and then bring it out for their fiftieth wedding anniversary."

Mrs. Davis paused with a wry smile, but made no editorial comment. "But, anyway," she concluded, "at least it's all over now, and he got his perfect day for Rachel." Kathryn could almost hear Rachel's mother mentally add, even if she doesn't deserve it.

Kathryn couldn't take it any longer. "Excuse me," she said, turning and rushing to the ladies room as fast as she could, hoping she wouldn't lose it before she made it to the sanctuary of the bathroom.

She didn't make it. By the time she reached the door her eyes were so blurry she could barely see which side of the door to push on to open it. She fumbled her way inside, and groaned outwardly when she found there was no lock on the inside. She immediately hid herself into a stall, and buried her head in her hands.

"Kathryn?" Denise's voice came through the other side of the door, gentle and hesitant. "Kat?"

"Please," Kathryn said, trying to keep her voice steady and failing. "I just need a moment."

"Okay, sweetie," Denise said. "I'll be right outside when you need me."

Kathryn didn't know how long she sat by herself, crying. She wanted to go back in time, wanted to redo the entire ceremony. But there was no "undo" key, no "do-overs." More than once she had a crazy idea of paying to re-stage the entire event. Maybe she could get everyone back in the room and he'd do that brilliant speech again...

At first she didn't know why she entertained such fantasies, until she realized that it was keeping her from facing the truth about her own terrible feelings of guilt. If she could pretend that there was a way to fix it, she wouldn't have to cope with the fact that she couldn't actually do that.

She heard the door open. "Kat?" Rachel's voice. Oh God. Time to face the music.

Kathryn stood up and opened the stall door. Rachel recoiled a little as she took a first glance at Kathryn's spoiled make-up.

"I'm sorry," Kathryn said. She didn't know what else to say. "I -"

Rachel interrupted her with a hug. "It's okay, Kat," she said, holding her tight.

Kathryn let out a tiny yelp at the ferociousness of the embrace. "It's not the end of the world," she said. Kathryn couldn't believe her ears.

"But," she said. "David... I promised... I forgot... He.. he..."

"David knew that things were going to go wrong today," Rachel said. "He kept telling me that whenever I got to be too much to bear before the wedding."

Rachel released Kathryn's shoulders, and looked her square in the eye. "It's true," she continued, reading Kathryn's suspicion. "Whenever I started getting crazy, he kept telling me, 'Look, there are going to be problems and mistakes, and I can guarantee you that something will go wrong.' He said that if you know that there's going to be some mistakes then you can deal with them when they come up better. It's when you expect that everything is going to be perfect that you're going to be disappointed."

Kathryn didn't know what to say. "You're not mad?" she asked.

Rachel's face beamed into a broad smile. "Mad?" she echoed, incredulous. "Today is my wedding day! And I look like this! Plus, I'm going to get laid tonight! Okay, I get laid every night, but tonight is going to be awesome!" She thrust out her chest and placed her hand on her hips. Despite herself, Kathryn looked straight at Rachel's incredible breasts.

Rachel laughed. "Wanna motorboat them?" she asked, laughing.

Kathryn couldn't help but laugh. "Good!" Rachel exclaimed, then kissed Kathryn on the cheek, then opened the door to the bathroom. "Denise, come here," she called.

Denise entered the bathroom. "Let's fix Kat's makeup, okay?" she said. Denise nodded. "We have to get back out there."

She turned back to Kathryn. "I'm going to go get David," she said. "I don't want this hanging over any of us for tonight. Talk it out with him and then let's go have some fun! There's alcohol, cake, and sex for the blushing bride!" She swooped the door open with an exaggerated flourish, and headed back to the reception.

Kathryn felt a stab of panic the moment she heard David's name. She did not want to face him, not now. But Rachel was right - if they didn't take care of this now the rest of the night would be ruined.

I've already done enough damage, Kathryn thought. It's best if I don't do any more.

"Her enthusiasm is infectious, isn't it?" Denise asked. Kathryn understood Denise's point immediately. You better snap out of this and get your head in the game right now.

She nodded. She let Denise clean her up, and like the sorceress that she was, made up Kathryn so well that no one would have ever known she had had a meltdown. Within five minutes Kathryn was composed enough to leave the bathroom, and found herself face to face with David.

She let out a little, "Eep!" bfore she could catch herself.

He stood taller by about six inches, and it felt harder to lift her eyes up for every inch until he met his gaze. She expected - almost wanted - him to be livid with her. It's what she deserved, and was his right. Instead, his piercing blue eyes gazed back at her with a softness that belied any anger.

She opened her mouth to apologize, but he took her in his arms, and buried her face in his chest, cutting her off. "I wanted to say thank you," he said.

His arms were remarkably strong. She had hugged him before, but there was a wiry strength in them now that took her by surprise. The second surprise was just how good he smelled. What is that cologne? I need to find out! 

She reclaimed her wits. "For what?" she asked, afraid that speaking would bring the waterworks back.

"For a lot of things," he said. "For being here, for helping out. For being Rachel's best friend. Mostly for that last part, because you helped make her who she is today, and I love who she is today. And that means today would never have been 'today,' if it weren't for you. So thank you."

Kathryn felt the water collect in her eyes again. His voice was smooth as silk, calm, sincere. She hadn't had a clue as to what she expected him to say to her, but this ot wasn't this. She pressed herself against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist and tightening. He felt solid, and her hint of a crush flared into a flame of lust for a few moments. She had a mental flash of what it would look like for him to unzip his pants, just as Rachel had joked, and paint her chest in that bustier wedding top. She crazily found herself fantasizing to see that, before coming back to reality.

She released him quickly, and brought a finger to her eye to dab away the moisture before it caused her mascara to run, pushing any lurid thoughts away.

"If you're up for it," David said, smiling, completely unaware of Kathryn's internal turmoil, "I think we have some celebrating to do. Would you care for a drink?"

"Oh god, yes," Kathryn agreed.

He held out his arm in a grand gesture of chivalry, and she took it. They returned to the reception, where Rachel was dancing on the floor with two drinks in her hands. David stopped short at the entrance to the reception, and turned to Kathryn. "Kathryn and her mother got into it today, didn't they?" he asked.

David was a naturally intuitive man, but it would take a blind man not to see that Rachel's behavior was ratcheted a notch higher for the sole purpose of tweaking her mother. Mrs. Davis watched from the head table in obvious disapproval, a forced plastic smile pinned to her lips. 

Kathryn looked at David and nodded.

"Oh, well," David said, resigned to the situation and knowing he could do nothing about it. "If you can't beat 'em..."

"Drink 'em!" Denise chimed in from behind Kathryn. Somehow, it was the right thing to say, at the right moment. It brought Kathryn forward back into the present, and allowed her the permission to begin enjoying herself again.

The night was Rachel's, though, and the newly coronated bride grabbed it by the horns. She rarely left the dance floor, moved provocatively as the wedding dress slinked against her body, hinting at sexual pleasures lying within. She thoroughly enjoyed the lascivious looks from all the men and the jealous glances from all the wives and girlfriends. Everyone's eyes were on her the entire evening, and she drank it in as thirstily as the alcohol that was always in her hands.

Soon, however, Kathryn began to realize that her maid of honor duties were nowhere near over. Rachel had already begun the wedding ceremony with a "nice buzz," but now she was practically as liquid as the contents of her drinking glass.

"Oh god, she's fractured," Denise commented to Kathryn. "She's never going to be able to do her 'wifely duties' like this. You better get her upstairs."

"Me?" Kathryn said. "Oh no! That's David's job!"

"Yeah, he's a little occupied," Denise said. She indicated next to the bar, where David's groomsmen were busying themselves with a drinking game of embarrassing stories of David's past. It wasn't clear what the rules were, but it was pretty clear it always involved a drink.

"All right," Kathryn said. "I'll go get her prepared for the 'big wedding night.' Something tells me this isn't going to be easy. You got this down here?"

Denise shrugged. "Yeah, it's not like I'm doing the cleaning."

Within moments Kathryn was assisting Rachel's unsteady body up to the hotel room. I'm so glad that you are staying at the same place as your reception, Kathryn thought at Rachel. I'd never be able to get you any further.

"Ohmygod, ohmygod ohmygod!" Rachel kept saying, over and over. "I'm married! Can you believe it, Kat? I'm married!"

Kathryn took note of how Rachel sounded exactly the same as when she had pretended to be drunk earlier in the day.

"And tonight I'm going to be fucked for the first time as a married woman!" she said, much too loudly, emphasis placed on precisely the wrong word.

"Shhh!" Kathryn cautioned, but knew it wasn't going to be any use.

"What?" Rachel said, looking around. "It's not like it's a secret! It's my wedding night, and I'm going to get fucked!"

Rachel's voice echoed up and down the hallway. Finally, mercifully, they reached the door to the hotel suite. Kathryn fumbled with the keycard, but finally managed to get the door open and Rachel through it. Rachel staggered into the room, looking for something, a dark cloud falling over her features.

Kathryn looked at her friend. "What is it?" she asked. "What's the matter?"

"Where is he?" Rachel asked, looking around.

"Who, David?" Kathryn asked.

Rachel whirled around, trying to be dramatic, but lost points with her lack of balance. "Yesss!" She hissed. "Where's my husss-band? Hellloooooo.... "

She spun around again, but that was a mistake. Her legs simply couldn't move as fast as her torso, and she wound up spinning herself straight to the ground in a cross-legged position. For a moment she had a shocked look on her face, and then she began to laugh.

"Okay, Rachel," Kathryn said, beginning to feel somewhat exasperated. "Let's get you ready for your man."

Rachel's eyes widened in excitement. "Yes!" She cried, and thrust out her hands for Kathryn to help her up.

Kathryn, not so steady on her feet herself, managed to pull Rachel up. As she came up, Rachel overbalanced and fell into Kathryn's arms. "Pineapples," she said.

Kathryn shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs out. What did she just say? "Rachel, you're not making any sense," she said, leading Rachel back to the room they had used to dress that afternoon.

"His come tastes like pineapples," she whispered conspiratorially, then started giggling uncontrollably. "But don't tell him I told you!"

Kathryn had no idea what to say. It was possibly the most unexpected, random thing that could have come out of Rachel's mouth.

Rachel leaned in close with a secret. "He's got such a beautiful cock, Kat! You should see it." She hadn't even realized what she had said.

"Good for him," Kathryn muttered, trying to keep Rachel upright as she lunged into the room.

"Oh my god," Rachel continued. "I love putting him in my mouth."

"TMI, Rachel," Kathryn said. It was the obligatory thing to say, but in fact she actually wouldn't mind hearing more. Her mind went back to the brief moment David had held her earlier in the night. Rachel's comments made her think about how close she had been to David, blocked only by a few layers of clothing.

Rachel staggered into the room, then her eyes opened wide as she saw the bed. She squealed, and then left Kathryn to pounce on the bed. The bustle of the dress plumed outwards as she ricocheted into the air. She squealed with delight. Her arm collapsed over her eyes, and when she removed it she blinked against the light.

"It's too bright!" she complained. "Turn off the light!"

Kathryn sighed, and did as she was told. "It's still too bright," Rachel whined. Kathryn rolled her eyes and went out into the main suite, and turned off the lights out there, too.

When she returned, Rachel peeked through her fingers. "That one, too," she ordered, thrusting her finger towards the window.

"That's the moon," Kathryn said.

"Well, turn it off."

"No."

"Okay."

Kathryn smiled to herself. Rachel did have a point, though, the light streaming from the window seemed particularly brilliant this evening, the shadows cutting razor-sharp edges between light and dark as it fell across the bedroom. The material sheen of Rachel's dress practically glowed against the moonlit night, overpowering everything else in her field of vision. It was practically incandescent.

Rachel rolled over onto her back, and then suddenly propped herself up onto one arm. She cast a seductive look towards Kathryn. "Do you think I'm shhhhhh-exy?" she purred. She looked so ridiculous Kathryn just couldn't help but smile.

There was sexy, and then there was day-um sexy. The half-corset bodice kept her figure intact, keeping Rachel's torso tight and compact. The swells of her breasts fought against the latticework, but lost and begrudgingly stayed in place, cleavage forming between them. The light of the moon cut across the bed and her body, placing a spotlight across her chest but hiding her face nearly completely. Even drunk off her ass, Rachel's dress appeared to be as sensual as lingerie, especially in the diminished light of the hotel suite.

"Of course, you look sexy," she confirmed. It was not a lie. At that moment Kathryn desperately wanted to be Rachel. "David's a lucky man."

Rachel pouted. "Where is David?" she asked. "I wanna get fucked." She drew out the last word unnecessarily, the way that only drunk people can. She slapped her palms on the bed for emphasis.

"Yes, I know," Kathryn said. "Let's get you ready for him. Come on, let's get you out of this dress."

Rachel recoiled in horror. "No!" she yelled, crossing her arms in front of her breasts.

Her vehemence caught Kathryn by surprise. "Okay, okay!" she cried, taking a step back. "Why not?"

Rachel hesitated. "Because he wants to fuck me in the dress. He told me at the ceremony that he wanted to come all over my tits while I'm wearing the dress."

Kathryn blinked. He told her that during the ceremony? When did he said that? Kathryn had stood right next to Rachel the entire time, and had somehow missed that exchange. Sure, she had been in her own little world for a while, but how did she miss that?

Rachel cackled at an inside joke. "I guess I gave David the right impression after all. Fuck you, Mom!" she shouted. 

"Shhh!" Kathryn cautioned, but Rachel was completely absorbed in her own drunken thoughts.

Suddenly Rachel sat bolt upright. "You know what?" she said excitedly. "You should wear the dress!"

Kathryn blinked. Rachel's drunken non-sequiturs were often difficult to follow. "Wait, what? No - "

Rachel waved her head in the air. "Wait, wait, listen to me," she blurted in a rush. "Before he gets here, you should put on the dress!"




Substitute Bride



Kathryn shook her head. "He's going to be here in a few minutes, Rachel," she warned, hoping that there may be some logical part of her friend left sober.

Nope. Rachel had already gotten the idea into her head. "I want to see you," she said. "I think you'll look fabulous in this dress! Here, help me get it off."

She managed to stand up, and then turned around so that Kathryn could help her out of it. Reluctantly, Kathryn began to untie the straps for the corset bodice, which came undone remarkably quickly. Whoever Rachel had chosen for her seamstress had been a master at the craft. It was an extremely simple dress, and very easy to get on and off. In less than a minute Rachel was free of all fabric, and lay back down on the bed, naked as a jaybird.

It may not have been the first time Kathryn had seen her best friend naked, but it wasn't as if it was a common, every-day occurrence. From Kathryn's perspective, Rachel's body was perfect. It was true they shared similar body types: thin waists, slim hips, equal height. But Kathryn had always felt that her excessive breast size made her look... heavy. No matter how many times her doctor told her she was 'perfectly healthy and normal,' she never felt like she could accept it. From where she stood, Rachel embodied the most perfect proportions that anyone could ever want.

In her own tipsy state, she couldn't help but stare at Rachel, laying casually across the bed. "Go on," Rachel drawled. "Hurry up. I want to see you in time to put my dress back on before he gets here." She winked coyly.

"There's no room in here," Kathryn said. It was a lame, half-hearted protest. Inside, she desperately wanted to try on the dress.

Rachel's sigh was equally exasperated and melodramatic. "Then go into the master bedroom," she scolded. "Go do it!"

Somewhat reluctantly, Kathryn left Rachel in the spare room and went into the master bedroom to change. She flipped on the light, which immediately solicited a tirade of obscenities from the drunken bride in the other room, so she immediately turned them off again. It didn't matter, the brilliant outside light cast just enough light to be able to see what she was doing.

As she shimmied out of her bridesmaid dress, she found herself fantasizing about David coming in and approaching Rachel. She imagined him coming into the bedroom, seeing her on the bed in that pose, and unzipping his pants. She could only imagine what David looked like, his cock jutting out from his tuxedo trousers, bobbing with every heartbeat. It was a nice addition to the liquid libido she had drunk during the evening. She joked to herself that perhaps she could hide in the closet and watch.

Tempting, tempting...

She stepped into the circlet of the wedding dress, and pulled it up around her waist, taking the thin silky material from behind her an adjusting them in place over her breasts, securing the ties just as she had done for Rachel earlier in the afternoon. She was surprised to find that even tying up the corset bodice was quick and easy. The dress now on and fastened properly, she caught herself in the mirror.

Her mouth dropped open. If Rachel had looked stunning, she was mesmerizing, even by her own standards. The dress fit snugly, but accentuated her curves even more than they had the actual bride. Instantly she felt herself get wet at her own reflection, which was a definite first. She had never before found anything other than flaws and imperfections whenever she looked in the mirror. Now, however, she thought she saw what men saw when they looked at her.

The corset pushed her breasts together in an almost lewd manner, but there was no denying the effect of the dress on her cleavage. If she had had a dick she would have wanted to spray them with semen too. Reluctantly she turned away from the mirror and walked across the main room to the guest room where she had left Rachel.

"Okay, here you go," she said as she entered the room. "What do you..."

Rachel lay on the bed, fast asleep, one hand between her legs. Evidently she had started playing with herself but fell asleep in the process.

"... think," Kathryn sighed. "Oh well."

She turned around and went back to the other room to take off the dress. How the hell am I going to get this back on her for when David gets back? She thought about how hard it might be to wake her, but that was David's problem.

When she got back to the other room, though, she caught sight of herself in the mirror once more. This time, though, she felt a bit more depressed. I'm never going to look this good again, she thought. I can't even wear this dress for my own wedding, not if I want Rachel to be a part of it.

She ran her hands down her sides, feeling the curves of her breasts fade into the tiny arcs of the sides of her waists. The dress was snug, especially in the chest, but she didn't care. This dress had been designed for larger-breasted women, and as big as Rachel was, it simply looked far more natural on Kathryn's frame.

She stood in front of the mirror, turning her body around so that she could see from as many angles as possible. If she turned a certain way, and stepped far enough into the moonlight that her face was hidden, she looked exactly like her best friend. Once again the dress was brilliant in reflecting the moonlight, so much so that it was almost painful to look at it straight on. One twist of a hip, however, and the illusion was broken. There was no confusing her upper body for Rachel's.

She smiled sadly as she realized it was time to take off the dress. She began to doubt how she was going to put it back on Rachel, and it looked like David wasn't going to get his wedding night fantasy after all. Rachel was completely passed out.

I am such a shitty maid of honor, she thought. Once again, she felt waves of guilt wash over her. I never should have let her drink so much!

David had worked so hard to make the perfect wedding, and with her forgetfulness she had taken away the opportunity to relive it. Now, the only thing left was his memories. He probably wanted to have his memories for his wedding night as well, but Rachel's drinking binge in response to her mother's interference had taken care of that, too.

She thought about what she could do. Could she salvage this somehow? She thought about putting the dress back on Rachel and positioning her on the bed. Would David jack off onto her breasts as she lay, passed out? 

The thought enticed her, and even excited her, but she knew that this simply wasn't David's personality. As arousing a thought, it just wouldn't happen. Still, it was fun to contemplate the mental visual. 

Poor, poor David, she thought, reaching behind her to untie the corset laces. She was doing a lot of thinking about David and Rachel's love life, and was beginning to realize that wearing the dress was pushing her farther into the world of vicarious living. 

A familiar noise from the main room froze her in her tracks. The electronic key latch slipped out of place, permitting the newly married occupant to return. "See you later," she heard David call to someone.

Oh, shit!

Her eyes darted about, looking for some means of escape, but she couldn't move. There was no possible way to get out of the dress before he saw her in it. How the hell could she explain why she was in his wife's dress? She looked left, and then right, trying to figure out what to do. Hide? Dive under the bed? No, the dress would never fit under there.

"Oh my god," David said, suddenly appearing in the doorway. "Don't move."

Shit! She was paralyzed. She couldn't have moved even if she wanted to. I've got to explain this! How can I explain this?

"You looked amazing tonight," David said softly, taking a step into the bedroom. "I mean, I wanted you a long, long time. But now I have you here to myself. Finally."

Wait, what? Kathryn found herself panicking. Surely this can't be happening. He cannot be hitting on her. On his wedding night. With his newlywed bride in the very next room!

"I just want to look at you for a little while," he continued, his voice a little unsteady. "I want to remember you, like this, for the rest of my life."

Kathryn swallowed, and found her throat and mouth parched. "David," she tried to say but it came out as a croak.

"Shhh," he said, taking another step. "I know things didn't go as planned tonight. Mistakes happen."

Kathryn felt a rise in the back of her throat, choking off her words. He does hold it against me! I knew it!

"At least we can end the day right," David said. His voice sounded smooth, but not quite as stable as normal. The alcohol had definitely affected him. "You know, in this moonlight you look absolutely amazing. I told you I wanted you earlier, but in this light that dress looks even sexier on you now. I didn't think that was possible."

"I -" Kathryn said, and then stopped. Wait, what?

Then it dawned on her. She glanced in the mirror for confirmation: He couldn't see her. He thought she was Rachel! The strange effect of the dress, the moonlight, and the shadows, all meant that she was effectively camouflaged. 

Looking back at David, she could see that even if the lighting was better, he wasn't looking at her face anyway. He was completely fixated on her breasts. He was obviously unsteady on his feet, and probably not much better off than Rachel had been.

She regarded him as he ogled her. It was uncomfortable, knowing that her best friend's boyfr- husband - was looking at her with lustful intent. It felt wrong, and she felt she was supposed to slap him for even implying such a thing. In this case, though, she was the impostor here.

Kathryn didn't know what to do. She knew what she should do. She should come out and tell him that she was not his wife, that his wife was passed out from far too much alcohol in the other room, and that oh yeah, by the way, sorry that the end of your perfect day got screwed up and no, even though you'll never have another "wedding night" you're basically SOL even though you didn't deserve any of this stuff happening to you, and oh yeah I'm the one that has to tell you that everything's all messed up and if I had done my job as the maid of honor I would have been watching Rachel more closely to make sure she didn't get this wasted so yeah everything that went wrong today is all my fault so let me take off your wife's wedding dress that I shouldn't even be wearing and leave you here with your thoughts about how you didn't get the memorable stuff about today all because of me.

She swallowed. That's what she should do, right? After all, the proper thing here was to leave him there with little more than a cold shower to keep him company on his wedding night. She regarded him carefully, trying to find the words to say it, but every opening sounded like the wrong one. There just didn't seem to be a way to do it gently, no way to do it right.

What's more, she could see how much he wanted her. His desire for her felt like a gravitational pull. She had never seen such intense focus from a man before, a primal imperative that was being barely held in check. David's face was a thin veneer of chivalry barely covering a raging animalistic sexual drive. 

The recognition came from a primal, instinctual part of her brain. That look meant he would ravage her, claim her as his own. He would own her, possess her body, takeher as he wished. Here was a man who wanted to do to her what a real man does to a real woman. 

Her own reaction to his feral attitude shocked her. She desperately wanted to be made "his" woman. She could see herself succumbing to his ferocious passion and unable to stop either it, him, or herself once it started. Being wanted so intensely made her weak in the knees, even if he didn't even know who it was that he actually wanted.

"David," she managed to choke out through dry lips. She tried to wet them with her tongue, but had to swallow several times to find any moisture. I'm not Rachel. I'm not Rachel. You can't have me. I'm Kathryn.

Once again she felt horrible for what she had done to him, the work he had put into the "perfect day," and how she had all but ruined it. He hadn't done anything to deserve her costly mistake. Now his bride was passed out in the other room, beyond recovery. She wasn't going to give him his special night - that night that only came once in a lifetime. She couldn't do it, so Kathryn - the maid of honor, the woman who is supposed to take care of everything on behalf of the bride - needed to do it.

He took a step towards her, but she held her hand up to ward him from moving any closer. It was her last desperate effort to prevent herself from careening over the point of no return. He stopped. 

The light cascaded across his face, shining in his eyes. She was seeing him the way that Rachel saw him, unfiltered. This was a moment that only one person on the planet should ever get to see, his guard completely let down, open and laid bare.

"Take out your cock."

The voice she heard was not her own. It was a whisper that came from somewhere, somewhere that just happened be very close to her own throat. Wait, I didn't say that! an inner voice shrieked. Who said that? No, no, no... That inner voice was immediately shut away in a jail cell of solitary confinement, along with the rest of her conscience and self-control.

David smiled, and stood with his legs shoulder-width apart. The light from the window covered him from his head to his knees, where her visibility completely disappeared. He seemed to float in mid-air. 

In that moment, he was no longer David, her best friend's cute partner. This was Michaelangelo's David, a symbol of masculinity that forced her hormones into overdrive.

The zipper slid down slowly as he paced himself. He obviously wanted to tease her as much as he could, and she was surprised to find just how much it was working. Finally the zipper was completely down, and when he reached into the tuxedo trousers with his hand, she watched him try to maneuver himself out of his underwear and avoid the zipper teeth.

As he revealed himself to her, though, another feeling - one as equally pressing - surged forward for her. He was as hard as anything she had ever imagined in her life. Cute, adorable David was magnificent in his desire for her.

No, not her. He thinks I'm Rachel, she scolded herself. It didn't change the fact that she wanted him, too, and that voice of conscience seemed to echo from a more distant place.

"Close your eyes," she whispered. She hoped that she could mask her voice by keeping it as quiet as possible. He hesitated, but did as he was told.

She got on her knees, and shuffled towards him. The dress rustled loudly, sounding like it was the only noise in the room. It made her feel awkward and self-conscious, convinced that he was going to open his eyes and realize that she wasn't his new wife. However, he didn't, and she had no problem taking her time in marveling at his erection at point-blank range.

David's cock stood in front of her face like a deranged popsicle. The light cut across the shaft it appeared to be half-invisible. It bounced and bobbed, and she knew that she had already gone too far. As she thought about the insanity of her decision, she felt her lips brush against the soft skin of his head. The touch was an electric jolt to her, suddenly making everything real. Here she was, kneeling in front of her best friend's new husband, her lips savoring the soft fleshy texture of his most private part, about to take him first.

She could smell him, smell his arousal. The texture of his cock felt like pure sex to her, and a deep primitive reaction between her legs reacted strongly to it. Like some automatic trigger she reached her tongue out and wet the cockhead.

She felt his hands encircle her head. "Oh yes," he said. "I love watching you suck my cock."

He opened his eyes! she thought. Even so, her head was facing forwards and he obviously couldn't really see her face. Instinctively, she rushed forward and deep-throated him until her face was buried against his pelvis. Hiding in plain sight, she thought. 

"Ohh," he moaned.

She kept her face down so that he couldn't see her. She felt his hands on the top of her head, keeping her that way. She suckled him for a few moments, and then needed to come up for air.

"Close your eyes," she repeated, keeping her face down. "Just feel me."

He seemed to hesitate, and she nearly panicked thinking that he had grown suspicious. "Okay," she heard him say eventually, and she went back to sucking on his cock. 

She felt him push forward with his hips, urging her to take him in, and she gladly obliged. His cock felt red hot, almost searing her mouth. Rachel had been right: he was a perfect size and shape for her to take him, ramrod straight, with no curious bends or shapes. 

Her last boyfriend's cock had been shaped almost like a miniature bowling pin, and where she felt the middle of his shaft stretch her mouth to the point of pain, David's slide smoothly across her tongue and into her throat. It was a pure enjoyment to experience.

As his cock invaded and then withdrew with each movement, she tried not to think of her act of unmitigated betrayal. She was sucking off her best friend's husband... on their wedding night.

I have to do this, she thought. It's the least I can do for him. He deserves this, after everything he did for Rachel.

Inside, something began to twist and turn. Her sense of pity had become obligation, and her obligation had begun to turn to self-righteousness. She started to feel... angry.

It's Rachel's fault, Kathryn thought. If she hadn't gotten so drunk, so pissed off with her mother, she would have been able to give David what he truly deserves. 

This began making sense to her. Yes, this is all true. What would have happened had she not been here? If she had just dropped off Rachel, David would have gotten back to the room to find that his bride was too intoxicated for even a simple fuck. After everything he had done for Rachel, that selfish bitch would leave him high and dry.

Poor David.

It was a good thing that she had been here to take care of him on this important night. It was a very good thing.

She redoubled her efforts on his cock, reaching up to cup his balls with one hand and stroke his shaft with the other. She began to feel a sense of moral righteousness with each of his thrusts, a confirmation that she was doing the just and moral act. She felt confirmed in her mission, more confident in what she was doing. He seemed to grown ramrod straight in her mouth, and she loved his response to her technique.

Kathryn had always known that she was good with her mouth, but that was probably because she enjoyed it so much. Feeling him fill her mouth seemed remarkably natural, as she was able to read his reaction and respond accordingly. It wasn't long before he was rocking his hips forwards and back, the natural rise of desire and arousal leading him to an inevitable finish.

She could have let him do that, should have let him finish. Let him come, give him her wedding present to them both, make up for what she had done, covered for her best friend - everyone and everything satisfied the way it should be. She felt him swell and stiffen, and her hands felt his balls contract. He was about to come.

She pulled off. She didn't even know why she did it. Instead, she stared intently at David's penis in front of her. Despite having had her share of men, this was the first time she had stopped to consider and regard the male organ. It was a hyper-realistic perspective, so close to his erection that it seemed to take on its own personality. It glistened from her saliva, and she could smell some of the alcohol from her own breath coming back to her. It throbbed. It pulsed.




Substitute for Dad



This tale dates back over thirty years ago. I nineteen years old and was still living at home with my parents and two younger sisters. My older sister had married and left home in the previous year and my brother had recently moved in with his much older girlfriend and so I was the oldest sibling still at home. I had a bedroom all to myself for the first time I could remember which allowed me the freedom to have a wank whenever I felt like it which as I didn't have a girlfriend was pretty much constant. Prior to my brother moving out it had been difficult to get time alone, luckily I worked on shifts and so when I was on nightshift I at least had a chance to crack one off when my brother was at work during the day.

Although I wasn't a virgin I didn't have a great deal of sexual experience most of my encounters had been drunken quickies at parties or fumbles in the back of my mate's car if I got lucky in a club. 

I had got back into playing rugby during the last year though because of working odd hours it was difficult to get much game time but my fitness had improved and I had developed a good set of muscles. 

One morning after a late shift I was woken by my mother bringing me a cup of tea. Since I was about fifteen I slept naked even on the coldest nights and I had a tendency to kick the covers off in my sleep. This particular morning mum hadn't knocked before coming into my room so I woke as I felt the bedcovers being pulled straight and her asking if I was awake. Most of me was still half asleep but my cock was standing to attention as normal in its full morning glory. My hazy brain didn't register until much later that my mum must have seen my erect cock before she pulled the covers over me. 

She had woken me early as my dad had been taken into hospital yet again the night before and she needed a lift to get there for visiting hours. He had been in and out of hospital for the last two years for various reasons and for the last twelve months he had prostate problems which meant he had to wear a catheter. My dad was nearly thirty years older than my mum and we had been his second family, she had married him when she was twenty four. My brother had come along twelve months later and then they had produced children at a rate on one every eighteen months for the next six years. My dad had nine children in total four from his first wife and five with our mother. At the time we were growing up we never considered our parents would enjoy an active sex life but when you think back to weekend mornings and afternoons when their bedroom door was locked and some of the odd noises emanating it is now obvious they were very active.

Mum put my tea on the side and said she was going to take a quick shower while I woke up and drank my tea. 

"You really need to find yourself a nice girlfriend to look after you!" she said.

I did have a chance to reply before she walked out of the room and the comment went out of my mind as I sat up and my cock poked its head out of the covers. I waited until I heard the bathroom door close and then began stroking my still hard cock. 

I normally thought of models in the porn magazines that my brother owned or at one time I imagined screwing his girlfriend when I found a couple of topless pictures he had taken. This time as my mind wandered I thought of my mum washing herself in the shower I felt my cock stiffen and twitch as I pulled at it. Suddenly I felt the rush as I began to come and the first shot of spunk hit me under the chin. It felt weird making myself come thinking about my mother's naked body. 

I quickly mopped up the copious amounts of spunk and sat up to drink my tea. I had just finished it as my mother knocked on the door to say the shower was free. My cock was still at half mast as I pulled on a pair of shorts to take the few steps to the bathroom, mum's door was slightly ajar and I caught sight of her naked back as she dried herself and my cock reacted by stiffening. 

For a forty-six year old woman who had given birth to five kids she still had a slim figure could easily pass for a woman in her thirties. She was petite woman only 5'1" tall with toned legs, a pert bottom and a pair of rounded C-cup breasts that considering they had suckled five babies still defied age and gravity.

I ducked into the bathroom and forced my erect cock to point at the toilet bowl so I could have a pee and ease the stiffness before my shower. I took a lazy shower and then started to shave at the sink with my towel wrapped around my waist.

Without knocking my mother came into the bathroom to hang up her towel and stood watching me shave. 

"All that Rugby training is giving you nice muscles I can see them rippling," she said laughing. 

She ran her hand across my shoulders and back then slid her arms around me affectionately.

"You take after your father with those broad shoulders and big hands but you get your height from my Uncle Jim," she said in a slightly vacant way as though she was reliving an old memory.

I felt my cock twitching and swelling again as I tried to finish shaving but I nicked my upper lip as I tried to hide my newest erection. I swore as I blood dripped from my lip and my mother maternally turned my head towards her and pressed a finger on the cut. She glanced down and smiled as she saw the tent my cock was making of the towel around my waist. 

"You definitely take after your father and Uncle Jim," she said under her breath. 

I didn't pick up on the comment as I was more concerned in trying to hide my still growing erection.

Mum picked up the flannel and dabbed my cut lip then pulled my head down (I'm 6'2") and kissed my upper lip.

She said, "There I've kissed it better for my baby boy, now hurry up and get dressed or we will be late." 

Then she tenderly wiped away the remainder of the shaving foam from my face. I looked down and stared at my mother's cleavage and my cock stiffened to its fullest extent almost brushing against her body. I felt the urge to pull open her bathrobe to but she stepped back. Mum left me in the bathroom and I quickly finished drying off and went to my bedroom to get dressed with my cock still hard and throbbing. It didn't subside until we were in the car driving to the hospital. 

My dad was quite agitated during the visit worrying about getting our holiday caravan shutdown for the winter and organising the fees for next year. I said I would take mum down to the caravan site the next weekend as I would not be working. He calmed down a bit and mum sent me off to get a couple of drinks from the canteen.

My dad was in a side ward with only three other beds in it but they were unoccupied. The curtains were around dad's bed when I got back and I hesitated thinking the nurses or doctors might be with him. I looked around for my mum but couldn't see her anywhere in the main ward so I went back to the side ward and heard a muffled groan and then my mum's voice behind the curtain. 

I pulled the curtain back and mum told me she had just been making dad more comfortable. I assumed she had been struggling to help him sit up in bed as she looked quite flushed. My dad seemed much more cheerful and when we left him he was having a laugh with the nurses as they brought the patient's supper round.

Mum told me on the way home that the doctors would be keeping dad in hospital for another couple of weeks and he had insisted that we go to the caravan on Thursday so we had plenty of time to get it closed down and the fees settled. I was slightly pissed off at this as I had planned to go out 'on the pull' with my mates on Thursday to a new club.

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

I had been working night shifts until Thursday morning and my manager had kept us back for half an hour as he had to announce some shift restructuring news so it was almost 10 am by the time I got home and I was past tired so I persuaded mum to leave earlier to head down to the caravan. It was a warm day for late September so I changed into a pair of rugby shorts and a tee shirt. I threw a change of clothes in a bag as we would be staying at least one night and hurried my mum out of the door.

We were at the caravan by 2 pm and set about tidying the place up and I cut back the weeds and grass outside. Before long I stripped to the waist to keep cool and enjoy the sun on my back. Mum came out with a cold drink and she had her blouse tied up around her waist as she was feeling the warmth of the day. The campsite was fairly deserted as most people had young families so only came down at weekends during term time. We sat for a while having our drinks when mum suggested leaving the tidying until the next day and just enjoying the sun for the rest of the afternoon. I was starting to feel the lack of sleep so I readily agreed and got out a couple of sun loungers. 

Mum went back into the caravan to get a book to read and I lay back and began to doze off to sleep. I woke with a start as mum dripped cold sun cream on my chest. 

"Sorry I didn't mean to make you jump but you will burn if you don't put this on," she said with a smile. 

She was kneeling beside my sun lounger and it took a second for me to focus and realise she had changed into a bikini. 

She noticed me look and said, "I couldn't find my swimsuit so I put on one of the girls' bikinis; it doesn't look to bad on me does it?"

"No, it looks nice," I replied.

I assumed it belonged to my youngest sister as the top was obviously at least a size too small, she was quite flat-chested compared to my mum and other sisters who were also at least a C-cup. I realised I was staring at my mum's cleavage and forced myself to look up. 

"I'll rub the sun cream in," I said.

She replied, "Don't worry I'll do it, I know you will miss bits and have burnt patches. Now lie back and don't start fidgeting like you used to when you were younger."

I let my mum rub in the cream as I tried to think of something to keep my cock from growing. It had woken up as soon as I saw her cleavage and now was getting harder and longer as she spread the sun cream over my chest and stomach. I gripped the arm rests of the lounger as I thought it might help and hoped mum would think I was doing it to stop squirming as I have always been ticklish.

As she rubbed the last of the cream into the skin just above my waistband I could feel the tip of my cock trying to poke out of top of my shorts. Her forearm brushed over my stiff cock and she seemed to move her hand back and forth as though she was checking how big it was. I realised I had closed my eyes and when I looked at her face I saw she was looking at the bulge in my shorts. I glanced at her cleavage and saw her nipples had got hard and were poking through the fabric of her bikini top. 

I felt her fingers slide over my shorts tracing the line of my engorged penis. I wasn't sure what to do I thought I should push her hand away but I really wanted her to rub my cock harder. It was my cock that seemed to take charge as it stiffened again pushing against her fingers and poking above the waistband of my shorts. Mums fingers moved to the tip and she traced them over the head. 

"Mum I'm sorry," I blurted out.

I moved my hand over my burgeoning erection but she just took my hand and held it in her lap. 

"I think we should go inside for a while to let you calm down before anyone comes past," she said and stood up and pulled on my hand.

We stepped inside the caravan with my cock still poking above out of the top of my shorts. Still holding my hand she led me to the bedroom. 

She hugged me, "It's okay I have seen it like this before," she said, "Will it calm down or do you have to sort it out?"

But before I could reply she said, "Or do you want mummy to help?"

I didn't say anything at first and she smiled at me.

"Well if I am going to help I had better see the whole thing," she said.

Then she tugged my shorts down and wrapped her hand around my shaft stroking it as she sat down on the edge of the bed. Her other hand took mine and she placed it on her breast and squeezed.

"Squeeze mummy's tits for her while I see to you," she muttered.

I was more taken aback by my mum using the word "tits" as I had never heard her use any swear words even mild ones. She leaned forward and rubbed her face against my hardness.

Mum murmured, "Oh this is a big cock have you used it properly yet?"

I instinctively held her head closer and rocked my hips rubbing my cock over her cheek.

"I have had sex with a couple of girls at parties but we were a bit too drunk to enjoy it," I confessed.

"Did they suck you too?" she asked her voice seeming slightly breathless. 

"No," I moaned. 

"Okay baby I'll show you how nice it is," she said.

I felt her lips kiss the tip of my cock and her tongue lap the head as she stretched my foreskin back. Then she opened her mouth and took the head in as she stroked with her hand. Mum's head bobbed up and down over the head of my cock as she massaged my balls gently with one hand while the other stroked the shaft. After a couple of minutes work by my mother's mouth I felt my spunk rising.

I groaned, "Oh Mum I going to cum!" 

I squeezed her tit hard as I ejaculated. Mum still had her mouth over the head of my cock and she swallowed as my spunk splashed in her mouth. She continued to stroke my cock as more spunk spurted out and she swallowed again. I squeezed her tit in rhythm to each spurt and I could hear her muffled moaning. 

She finally released my cock, "Your cock tastes good baby," she said smiling up at me. 

"Thank you, that felt so good," I said shyly.

"Do you want me to make you come too?" I asked nervously not knowing how far she wanted to go with this.

"Do you know how to baby?" she replied. 

"I think so, I read about it in a book," I mumbled realising how stupid it must sound. 

"You had best show your mummy what you know and I will tell you what I like!" she laughed.

I knelt down in front of her pushing her back onto the bed and kissed her lips gently at first and then harder as she opened her mouth. I slipped the fabric of her bikini top from her breasts and pinched her erect nipples making her moan and she broke our kiss to encourage me.

"That's nice baby I like that!" she moaned.

I kissed her neck and moved down to her right nipple and sucked it into my mouth running my tongue over it and then nibbling at it with my teeth. I moved over to her left nipple and sucked it until it was hard.

Mum moaned louder, "Oh that's so good my baby boy, suck your mummies tits harder."

I was now kneeling between her legs as I ran a hand over her stomach and then over the material concealing her pussy. Her hips rocked against the palm of my hand pressing her mound against my fingers. I flicked the fabric to one side and felt the moist pubic hair below as I traced the outline of her pussy lips. Her pubic hair was dark, neatly trimmed and glistening with moisture. 

Although I had read about a woman clitoris and vagina I didn't really know what I was doing and I hesitated until my mum put her hand over mine and directed my fingers to her opening. 

"Fuck me with your fingers first," she panted. 

I easily slipped two fingers in as she guided my hand until I picked up a steady rhythm counting time by my mother's gasps. She suddenly arched her back and her pussy muscles gripped my fingers as she came.

"Oh Christ yes baby," she groaned. 

Her hips ground back and forth after the first wave of pleasure subsided and she rode my fingers enjoying further jolts of ecstasy. Finally mum pulled my head close to her chest.

"Thank you my baby you made mummy come really hard," she murmured, "Have you ever licked a girl's snatch?"

"No," I replied, "Can I do it to you?"

"Of course baby, but if you don't like the taste let me know," she reassured me.

I slid down her body and adjusted her hips to get an easier angle and she pushed a pillow under her bum.

"This will make it easier on your neck," Mum said as she spread her legs wide and pulled her own pussy lips apart.

"Kiss me at the top and try to find my button with your tongue," she instructed (she didn't use the word clitoris). 

I traced the line from her finger tip straight to her clit with my tongue; it was no problem finding the swollen protuberance. My mum's moans indicated I was definitely in the right spot and just like sucking on her nipples I pulled it gently with my teeth and ran my tongue over it. 

"Do that again!" she panted trying to push her pussy closer. 

My nose was buried in her slick bush of pubic hair and I could feel juices running over my chin. 

"Finger me too!" she gasped.

I obeyed slipping two fingers deep into her. Mum held my head against her clit with one hand and grabbed at her own arse cheek with the other digging her nails into her milky white flesh. I rested my thumb in the crack of her arse and rubbed the sensitive skin between her arse and her pussy.

"Oh fucking Christ I'm cumming again," she shouted this time.

Her body bucked against the bed but I managed to stay focused on her clit and kept up the tonguing and fingering as another orgasm spread through her. Her pussy clamped on my fingers and it took most of my strength to keep thrusting them inside her. She shouted again and suddenly stopped breathing and went limp. 

I panicked thinking I had hurt her then she gasped for air. I crawled onto the bed beside her and hugged her close as she panted and I could feel her pulse fluttering. 

It took several minutes for her to be able to speak then she said, "I love you my baby boy sorry did I frighten you?"

"I thought you were having a heart attack," I replied.

She laughed, "I sometimes faint when it is so intense; that was very intense. I suppose those girls you fucked before didn't react the same way?"

"No we were drunk and it was difficult to get my cock in their vaginas. I only really got the tip inside before I shot my load. I suppose I was too excited," I said.

Mum snuggled closer, "They probably couldn't adjust to how thick your cock is; I could hardly get it in my mouth. It is thicker than your Dad's and he is the biggest man I have been with."

Naively I asked, "How many men have you had sex with?"

"Gentlemen don't ask questions like that, especially not just after getting sucked off!" Mum chided.

Then she laughed, "But as you are young I suppose I can forgive you."

"I have been with eight men properly including your dad; does that shock you?" she continued.

"Not as much as you swearing and talking dirty I suppose," I answered truthfully.

Mum laughed again, "I only need to swear when I am horny and needing a good seeing too." 

"I'm ready to feel this thing inside me," she said then stroked my cock, "You can be number nine, if you can get hard again?"

I didn't need to reply as my cock stiffened immediately in her hand. Mum straddled me and began rubbing her pussy along my shaft her lips caressing and teasing my pulsing cock. 

"Have you got any rubbers?" she panted. 

I shook my head, "I didn't expect to need any," I said weakly.

"Okay but you can't come inside me, tell me when you're about to come and I will finish you off with my mouth," she instructed. 

Then she positioned my cock against her opening and eased down making me gasp as I penetrated her. 

"Oh Christ you have a lovely cock," Mum moaned.

She rested her hands on my chest and slid further down my shaft lifted off a little then pushed further down taking me inside her completely. She ground her pubic bone into mine and groaned.

"Yes that feels so good, now rub my button as I ride it," she instructed.

She placed my thumb on her clitoris and she started rocking up and down taking me in and out of her pussy. I could feel her pussy muscles contracting and relaxing in rhythm to her movement I took her breast in my free hand and squeezed and rubbed her nipple. As she increased her pace I began thrusting back to meet her on the down stroke.