This is a copy/paste from net
Original Author - alwayswantedto
All the credit goes to original writer...
Original Author - alwayswantedto
All the credit goes to original writer...
Incest The Switch (mom)
- Thread starterfirefox420
- Start date
- 13,541
Update - 1
********
My parents own a small clothing store that does quite well so I don't need a part-time job after school or in the summers. I used to work in the store but soon quit going because Dad often criticized me in front of the staff. He seemed pleased that I quit going even though he often worked late and could have used help doing the inventory.
Mom often offered my services when Dad announced that he had to go back to the store in the evening but he always declined, which I appreciated.
Mom, however, wasn't too pleased. Eventually, together with other indicators, I came to believe that Mom suspected Dad of having an affair with one of the staff. Dad had hired a number of new people over the years since Mom had left the store and they were all fairly attractive women. With one exception, they were either single or single moms.
As with most good-looking women, Dad's suspected dalliances hurt Mom. I often had the TV to myself when we were home because Mom would retire to her room shortly after Dad went back to work. On the days when he stayed home, he often read and totally ignored her, despite her attempts to keep up her looks through exercise, diet, dressing nicely, and getting fancy hairdos, all to no avail. Mom became withdrawn and unhappy.
My father was quite an asshole.
Despite Mom's depression, she maintained her health, always exercising and maintaining a healthy diet. However, her make-up suffered along with her wardrobe and her hair was often a mess. One day, I came home to find her with a very short cut that would have looked avant-garde on a woman with a more dynamic, positive outlook. I'm sure Mom had adopted the look simply because it was easier to care for and, in her mind, made her less feminine and therefore less attractive, thus explaining why her husband ignored her.
That triggered something inside me and I decided to find out for myself if Dad really was having an affair with one of the women at the store. Wouldn't it be great to confess to Mom that I had falsely suspected Dad so she would know that her private suspicions were also unfounded?
Half an hour after closing on a Friday night I entered the store through a back-alley window whose lock I knew to be faulty. I crept through the mezzanine where we kept lots of old displays and mannequins until I could look down upon the main storage area behind the retail area and into Dad's office off on the left side. The door to the office was open but I could have easily seen inside even if it was shut because the rear wall of the office was comprised of a large window so Dad could make sure nobody was slacking off. There was also a peek-hole into the main store designed to keep the staff vigilant.
Leaning back in his reclining swivel chair, Dad appeared to be thinking. He certainly wasn't working on the books because the desk in front of him was oddly clear except for a roll of blue shop towels standing up on one end.
A woman breezed through the swinging doors that separated the retail area from the rear of the store. I sighed in disappointment. Crap, it was Mrs. Omed. I had been expecting one of the younger girls or even one of the single moms, maybe especially one of them. Dad wouldn't be having a tryst with Mrs. Omed there. The night was lost.
I'd have to try another time.
Mrs. Omed swept straight into Dad's office, cash box in hand, which surprised me.
When I had worked at the store, everybody knocked and waited to be acknowledged before entering Dad's office, even if the door was open.
"Okay Ted, everything's locked up."
And that surprised me for a second time. Mrs. Omed called Dad by his first name, a huge no-no. He always called his staff by their first names but everyone had to call him Mr. Horlock.
"Tanya, how many times have I told you not to use my first name. You're going to slip up in front of one of the other girls one day and that won't be good."
It wasn't Dad's tolerance for Mrs. Omed's indiscretion that gave me my final shock. It was the way he had spun around in his chair, pants open and hard cock standing up, ready for action.
"Well, aren't we touchy today, Mr. Horlock," Mrs. Omed replied in a sassy voice.
"Enough playing around," Dad waved his hand impatiently. Mrs. Omed complied with his silent command, falling to her knees in front of him. Dad immediately grasped the sides of her head and pulled her face toward him but she resisted.
"I only have time for this tonight, Ted," she said, emphasizing Dad's first name.
"Norm's rented a movie and is waiting to watch it with me."
"Yeah, yeah," Dad grunted, pulling Mrs. Omed's head onto his lap. "Ahhhh, that's it," he cried, straining his legs and shoving his hips up.
Mrs. Omed's head snapped back as her mouth filled with Dad's cock but he pulled her back down to the seat as he fell back and kept her there while he thrust his cock rapidly in and out of her face.
"Fuck, I've been waiting for this all day."
Mrs. Omed mumbled something I couldn't make out.
"God, you've got one fucking hot mouth, baby."
Mrs. Omed mumbled again. It looked like she was trying to pull off but Dad was gripping her hair firmly with his right hand, pulling her to and fro, while his left cupped the back of her head to block any unauthorized retreat.
"Yeah baby, take it deep."
Dad leaned forward and plunged his cock uncaringly in and out of Mrs. Omed's mouth.
This went on for quite a while, the air filled with my father's heavy breathing and the occasional desperate gasp from Mrs. Omed when Dad released her long enough to gulp in some air.
Each time, Mrs. Omed's head was quickly recaptured, remaining free just long enough for her to breathe and sometimes turn sideways to drool onto the plastic carpet protector.
This always seemed to catch Dad by surprise and he drilled Mrs. Omed in the cheek but before thrusting his hips forward to shove his cock, squelching noisily, back into her mouth while pulling on her head for good measure. Mrs. Omed took this rough treatment without complaint. She even unbuttoned her blouse and peeled it off her arms, while her head was locked in front of Dad's pistoning cock, and tossed it behind her. I guess she didn't want it to get covered in drool and then have to wear it home.
"I swear, you're the best little cocksucker I've ever had," Dad huffed and puffed.
Squelch, squelch, squelch.
"But I'm still going to fuck you before you go, Norm or no Norm."
Mrs. Omed yanked her head back, surprisingly breaking free of Dad's grip, and spit on the floor.
"No you're not," she gasped. "I told you, I'm going home."
"Just a quickie on the desk."
"No," Mrs. Omed sputtered.
"Come on. You know you love it from behind."
"No," Mrs. Omed insisted.
"Okay, but then you have to take it in the face."
"For fuck sakes, Ted. You know I hate that."
"Hey, you're the one that wants Christmas off."
Mrs. Omed unsnapped her bra and shucked it.
"Do it on my tits," she said.
I actually stretched up and craned my neck in an attempt to see better despite the danger of being seen. I remembered that Mrs. Omed had a very full blouse for such a petite woman and I wanted to see her tits. I bet they were something to behold, slung low and overly meaty for her size. However, her back was mostly to me and all I could see were the sides of her melons as they swayed in front of her. My cock was hard as a rock.
"In the face if you want to go home to Normie right away."
Dad twisted his head and looked at the roll of blue shop towels he had set in the middle of his desk. Mrs. Omed followed his gaze. I always wondered why Dad kept shop towels on his desk instead of Kleenex. I had thought it was because they were cheaper but now I knew better. Dad must have been doing this for years, even when Mom and I worked at the store. Vague memories surfaced of Dad insisting that I go home with Mom while he stayed late to "clean up a few things." I guess he had a weird sense of humor.
Mrs. Omed flashed Dad what I suspected was a dirty look. "Asshole," she said, but her posture slumped in resignation.
Dad grabbed Mrs. Omed by the top of her hair and pulled her onto his cock. The squelching started anew with increased vigor and when Mrs. Omed tried to pull her head away Dad followed her, rising out of his chair. Mrs. Omed fell back on her haunches and Dad stood over her, still holding her hair while jacking his cock, getting ready to spew all over her face.
"Wait, Ted, wait!"
Mrs. Omed struggled up to her feet. "Not on my face," she said, gasping. "I don't want to get it in my hair."
"Get back down and take it," Dad barked, breathing so raggedly I thought he was going to have a heart attack.
"No," Mrs. Omed was defiant.
"You little bitch," Dad yelled, trying to force Mrs. Omed back onto her knees with a hand still gripping her hair.
"Ted don't," Mrs. Omed cried, bending over, facing the ground, but refusing to get on her knees.
Dad tried to twist her face up so he could unload but relented, the moment of release obviously passing him by. He swore and instead of letting Mrs. Omed stand up, he dragged her head around and pushed her onto the desk, shouting, "You better wipe the drool off your fucking face before going home to Normie."
Mrs. Omed's head knocked the roll of shop towels over but she grabbed it before it rolled off the desk, tore off a couple of sheets, and started wiping the drool off her face. Dad watched her ass wiggle as she rubbed, patted her behind, and then slipped his right hand under her skirt.
"Stop it. I told you I don't have time."
"I'm just getting you primed for Normie."
"Don't be an asshole," Mrs. Omed snapped, ripping off another sheet of shop towel.
I was surprised that Mrs. Omed didn't bat Dad's hand away. It was already moving under her skirt, rubbing back and forth but Mrs. Omed continued cleaning her face and seemed oblivious to his shenanigans.
"You've got a great ass, Tanya. When are you gonna let me have it?"
"Never."
"Don't hold your breath waiting for Normie to do it."
Dad did something under Mrs. Omed's skirt that made her lurch forward.
"Ted, I said no," Mrs. Omed barked.
"Come on, you'll love it," Dad husked.
Dad's hand rubbed in a slow, exaggerated arc, moving Mrs. Omed's whole body to and fro. His other hand lifted her skirt and I could see her butt with his hand firmly ensconced between her tightly clasped thighs. Dad's thumb was arched skyward and pressed into Mrs. Omed's panties between her cheeks, wiggling like he was trying to push it into something.
"Ted, don't."
Ignoring her, Dad yanked her panties down to the top of her thighs. Her bare ass beckoned and I wondered why I had ignored it in favor of the smaller ones on the younger staff. It looked so inviting, bent over like that. Dad's hand constantly moved between Mrs. Omed's legs.
"Dooon't," she wailed.
Dad suddenly lowered his arm and pushed it in, moving further forward. Fuck, he had his fingers jammed way into her cunt. A different squelching sound drifted up to the loft as Dad rapidly finger banged Mrs. Omed, his hand squelching in and out. Holy fuck, it looked like he was getting even more than just fingers in there.
Mrs. Omed moaned, "Stop it," but she complied when Dad's left hand pressed on her back and lowered her tits onto the desk and she moved her legs farther apart when Dad kicked her foot.
The only sounds now in the store were the liquid squelching and a chorus of heavy breathing. Mrs. Omed's legs began quivering and several times she rose up on her elbows until Dad pressed her back onto the desk.
Mrs. Omed was moaning constantly, her ass wiggling above trembling legs wrapped around Dad's pumping fist, until one final thrust caused her to wail out loud. Mrs. Omed rose up on the desk, legs stiffening as she shuddered on Dad's hand, and her wail turned to a whimper as she slumped onto the desk. Dad stared at her trembling cheeks.
"Fuck, I gotta have me some of that," Dad he said.
Mrs. Omed lay quite still though she had to know what Dad was about to do. he fed his half-hard cock into Mrs. Omed's well-plied hole and started pumping right away.
Soon, he was rocking her back and forth on the desk with as little concern for her comfort as when he was punishing her face with his cock.
Dad fucked Mrs. Omed for quite a long time and she seemed in no hurry to finish despite her stated desire to go home to her husband. A couple of times, Dad pulled Mrs. Omed's head up from the desk and twisted it so he could stick his fingers into her mouth.
The enraptured expression on her face left no doubt that she wanted to be exactly where she was, doing exactly what she was doing.
When they finally came, noisily and together, Dad slowly ground his cock around Mrs. Omed's butt, thigh muscles bulging with the effort of digging it in so deep. He seemed reluctant to leave her steamy warmth, which I understood. I wished it was my cock buried in her cunt. Eventually, Dad's cock slithered out and he pulled his pants up while Mrs. Omed reached behind, still lying prone on the desk, and pulled up her panties.
"Okay, I'll lock up and you can go home to Normie."
Mrs. Omed shook her head, like there was no teaching an old dog new tricks. Laughing, Dad slapped her on the butt and her skirt fell into place when she jerked up.
"Don't let Normie wear that out on me."
"I wish," Mrs. Omed replied sarcastically.
"I wish you'd let me do it on your face more," Dad's voice softened. "It isn't that bad."
"I told you, Norm's waiting for me. Last time I was late getting to the restaurant and when I was brushing my hair in the restroom I saw some in my hair."
"No shit?" Dad laughed.
"It wasn't funny. Thank God it was hidden underneath and nobody saw it. As it was, I could still feel it on my face and I felt just horrible."
"You shouldn't be ashamed of getting what you want. Norm's a good guy but he can't give what you need, just like Lisa can't for me."
"Have you ever asked her?"
"Why bother? She doesn't know how and wouldn't anyway, but you sure do, don't you?"
The lecherous tone returned to Dad's voice as he patted the back of Mrs. Omed's skirt.
"You're not getting any of that."
"Yeah, well you said you'd never let me come on your face either."
"Maybe I won't anymore."
"If you give me your ass, I'll leave your face alone."
"Yeah, right. You want to come on my face every time."
"That's 'cause you always say no."
"I'm not letting you in my butt, even for two weeks off at Christmas."
"Did I say just Christmas? You can have Thanksgiving too. You'll love it, you know..."
Dad turned the light off and their voices trailed off as they made their way to the front of the store. I waited in the dark until I was sure they were both gone.
********
...to be continued
********
My parents own a small clothing store that does quite well so I don't need a part-time job after school or in the summers. I used to work in the store but soon quit going because Dad often criticized me in front of the staff. He seemed pleased that I quit going even though he often worked late and could have used help doing the inventory.
Mom often offered my services when Dad announced that he had to go back to the store in the evening but he always declined, which I appreciated.
Mom, however, wasn't too pleased. Eventually, together with other indicators, I came to believe that Mom suspected Dad of having an affair with one of the staff. Dad had hired a number of new people over the years since Mom had left the store and they were all fairly attractive women. With one exception, they were either single or single moms.
As with most good-looking women, Dad's suspected dalliances hurt Mom. I often had the TV to myself when we were home because Mom would retire to her room shortly after Dad went back to work. On the days when he stayed home, he often read and totally ignored her, despite her attempts to keep up her looks through exercise, diet, dressing nicely, and getting fancy hairdos, all to no avail. Mom became withdrawn and unhappy.
My father was quite an asshole.
Despite Mom's depression, she maintained her health, always exercising and maintaining a healthy diet. However, her make-up suffered along with her wardrobe and her hair was often a mess. One day, I came home to find her with a very short cut that would have looked avant-garde on a woman with a more dynamic, positive outlook. I'm sure Mom had adopted the look simply because it was easier to care for and, in her mind, made her less feminine and therefore less attractive, thus explaining why her husband ignored her.
That triggered something inside me and I decided to find out for myself if Dad really was having an affair with one of the women at the store. Wouldn't it be great to confess to Mom that I had falsely suspected Dad so she would know that her private suspicions were also unfounded?
Half an hour after closing on a Friday night I entered the store through a back-alley window whose lock I knew to be faulty. I crept through the mezzanine where we kept lots of old displays and mannequins until I could look down upon the main storage area behind the retail area and into Dad's office off on the left side. The door to the office was open but I could have easily seen inside even if it was shut because the rear wall of the office was comprised of a large window so Dad could make sure nobody was slacking off. There was also a peek-hole into the main store designed to keep the staff vigilant.
Leaning back in his reclining swivel chair, Dad appeared to be thinking. He certainly wasn't working on the books because the desk in front of him was oddly clear except for a roll of blue shop towels standing up on one end.
A woman breezed through the swinging doors that separated the retail area from the rear of the store. I sighed in disappointment. Crap, it was Mrs. Omed. I had been expecting one of the younger girls or even one of the single moms, maybe especially one of them. Dad wouldn't be having a tryst with Mrs. Omed there. The night was lost.
I'd have to try another time.
Mrs. Omed swept straight into Dad's office, cash box in hand, which surprised me.
When I had worked at the store, everybody knocked and waited to be acknowledged before entering Dad's office, even if the door was open.
"Okay Ted, everything's locked up."
And that surprised me for a second time. Mrs. Omed called Dad by his first name, a huge no-no. He always called his staff by their first names but everyone had to call him Mr. Horlock.
"Tanya, how many times have I told you not to use my first name. You're going to slip up in front of one of the other girls one day and that won't be good."
It wasn't Dad's tolerance for Mrs. Omed's indiscretion that gave me my final shock. It was the way he had spun around in his chair, pants open and hard cock standing up, ready for action.
"Well, aren't we touchy today, Mr. Horlock," Mrs. Omed replied in a sassy voice.
"Enough playing around," Dad waved his hand impatiently. Mrs. Omed complied with his silent command, falling to her knees in front of him. Dad immediately grasped the sides of her head and pulled her face toward him but she resisted.
"I only have time for this tonight, Ted," she said, emphasizing Dad's first name.
"Norm's rented a movie and is waiting to watch it with me."
"Yeah, yeah," Dad grunted, pulling Mrs. Omed's head onto his lap. "Ahhhh, that's it," he cried, straining his legs and shoving his hips up.
Mrs. Omed's head snapped back as her mouth filled with Dad's cock but he pulled her back down to the seat as he fell back and kept her there while he thrust his cock rapidly in and out of her face.
"Fuck, I've been waiting for this all day."
Mrs. Omed mumbled something I couldn't make out.
"God, you've got one fucking hot mouth, baby."
Mrs. Omed mumbled again. It looked like she was trying to pull off but Dad was gripping her hair firmly with his right hand, pulling her to and fro, while his left cupped the back of her head to block any unauthorized retreat.
"Yeah baby, take it deep."
Dad leaned forward and plunged his cock uncaringly in and out of Mrs. Omed's mouth.
This went on for quite a while, the air filled with my father's heavy breathing and the occasional desperate gasp from Mrs. Omed when Dad released her long enough to gulp in some air.
Each time, Mrs. Omed's head was quickly recaptured, remaining free just long enough for her to breathe and sometimes turn sideways to drool onto the plastic carpet protector.
This always seemed to catch Dad by surprise and he drilled Mrs. Omed in the cheek but before thrusting his hips forward to shove his cock, squelching noisily, back into her mouth while pulling on her head for good measure. Mrs. Omed took this rough treatment without complaint. She even unbuttoned her blouse and peeled it off her arms, while her head was locked in front of Dad's pistoning cock, and tossed it behind her. I guess she didn't want it to get covered in drool and then have to wear it home.
"I swear, you're the best little cocksucker I've ever had," Dad huffed and puffed.
Squelch, squelch, squelch.
"But I'm still going to fuck you before you go, Norm or no Norm."
Mrs. Omed yanked her head back, surprisingly breaking free of Dad's grip, and spit on the floor.
"No you're not," she gasped. "I told you, I'm going home."
"Just a quickie on the desk."
"No," Mrs. Omed sputtered.
"Come on. You know you love it from behind."
"No," Mrs. Omed insisted.
"Okay, but then you have to take it in the face."
"For fuck sakes, Ted. You know I hate that."
"Hey, you're the one that wants Christmas off."
Mrs. Omed unsnapped her bra and shucked it.
"Do it on my tits," she said.
I actually stretched up and craned my neck in an attempt to see better despite the danger of being seen. I remembered that Mrs. Omed had a very full blouse for such a petite woman and I wanted to see her tits. I bet they were something to behold, slung low and overly meaty for her size. However, her back was mostly to me and all I could see were the sides of her melons as they swayed in front of her. My cock was hard as a rock.
"In the face if you want to go home to Normie right away."
Dad twisted his head and looked at the roll of blue shop towels he had set in the middle of his desk. Mrs. Omed followed his gaze. I always wondered why Dad kept shop towels on his desk instead of Kleenex. I had thought it was because they were cheaper but now I knew better. Dad must have been doing this for years, even when Mom and I worked at the store. Vague memories surfaced of Dad insisting that I go home with Mom while he stayed late to "clean up a few things." I guess he had a weird sense of humor.
Mrs. Omed flashed Dad what I suspected was a dirty look. "Asshole," she said, but her posture slumped in resignation.
Dad grabbed Mrs. Omed by the top of her hair and pulled her onto his cock. The squelching started anew with increased vigor and when Mrs. Omed tried to pull her head away Dad followed her, rising out of his chair. Mrs. Omed fell back on her haunches and Dad stood over her, still holding her hair while jacking his cock, getting ready to spew all over her face.
"Wait, Ted, wait!"
Mrs. Omed struggled up to her feet. "Not on my face," she said, gasping. "I don't want to get it in my hair."
"Get back down and take it," Dad barked, breathing so raggedly I thought he was going to have a heart attack.
"No," Mrs. Omed was defiant.
"You little bitch," Dad yelled, trying to force Mrs. Omed back onto her knees with a hand still gripping her hair.
"Ted don't," Mrs. Omed cried, bending over, facing the ground, but refusing to get on her knees.
Dad tried to twist her face up so he could unload but relented, the moment of release obviously passing him by. He swore and instead of letting Mrs. Omed stand up, he dragged her head around and pushed her onto the desk, shouting, "You better wipe the drool off your fucking face before going home to Normie."
Mrs. Omed's head knocked the roll of shop towels over but she grabbed it before it rolled off the desk, tore off a couple of sheets, and started wiping the drool off her face. Dad watched her ass wiggle as she rubbed, patted her behind, and then slipped his right hand under her skirt.
"Stop it. I told you I don't have time."
"I'm just getting you primed for Normie."
"Don't be an asshole," Mrs. Omed snapped, ripping off another sheet of shop towel.
I was surprised that Mrs. Omed didn't bat Dad's hand away. It was already moving under her skirt, rubbing back and forth but Mrs. Omed continued cleaning her face and seemed oblivious to his shenanigans.
"You've got a great ass, Tanya. When are you gonna let me have it?"
"Never."
"Don't hold your breath waiting for Normie to do it."
Dad did something under Mrs. Omed's skirt that made her lurch forward.
"Ted, I said no," Mrs. Omed barked.
"Come on, you'll love it," Dad husked.
Dad's hand rubbed in a slow, exaggerated arc, moving Mrs. Omed's whole body to and fro. His other hand lifted her skirt and I could see her butt with his hand firmly ensconced between her tightly clasped thighs. Dad's thumb was arched skyward and pressed into Mrs. Omed's panties between her cheeks, wiggling like he was trying to push it into something.
"Ted, don't."
Ignoring her, Dad yanked her panties down to the top of her thighs. Her bare ass beckoned and I wondered why I had ignored it in favor of the smaller ones on the younger staff. It looked so inviting, bent over like that. Dad's hand constantly moved between Mrs. Omed's legs.
"Dooon't," she wailed.
Dad suddenly lowered his arm and pushed it in, moving further forward. Fuck, he had his fingers jammed way into her cunt. A different squelching sound drifted up to the loft as Dad rapidly finger banged Mrs. Omed, his hand squelching in and out. Holy fuck, it looked like he was getting even more than just fingers in there.
Mrs. Omed moaned, "Stop it," but she complied when Dad's left hand pressed on her back and lowered her tits onto the desk and she moved her legs farther apart when Dad kicked her foot.
The only sounds now in the store were the liquid squelching and a chorus of heavy breathing. Mrs. Omed's legs began quivering and several times she rose up on her elbows until Dad pressed her back onto the desk.
Mrs. Omed was moaning constantly, her ass wiggling above trembling legs wrapped around Dad's pumping fist, until one final thrust caused her to wail out loud. Mrs. Omed rose up on the desk, legs stiffening as she shuddered on Dad's hand, and her wail turned to a whimper as she slumped onto the desk. Dad stared at her trembling cheeks.
"Fuck, I gotta have me some of that," Dad he said.
Mrs. Omed lay quite still though she had to know what Dad was about to do. he fed his half-hard cock into Mrs. Omed's well-plied hole and started pumping right away.
Soon, he was rocking her back and forth on the desk with as little concern for her comfort as when he was punishing her face with his cock.
Dad fucked Mrs. Omed for quite a long time and she seemed in no hurry to finish despite her stated desire to go home to her husband. A couple of times, Dad pulled Mrs. Omed's head up from the desk and twisted it so he could stick his fingers into her mouth.
The enraptured expression on her face left no doubt that she wanted to be exactly where she was, doing exactly what she was doing.
When they finally came, noisily and together, Dad slowly ground his cock around Mrs. Omed's butt, thigh muscles bulging with the effort of digging it in so deep. He seemed reluctant to leave her steamy warmth, which I understood. I wished it was my cock buried in her cunt. Eventually, Dad's cock slithered out and he pulled his pants up while Mrs. Omed reached behind, still lying prone on the desk, and pulled up her panties.
"Okay, I'll lock up and you can go home to Normie."
Mrs. Omed shook her head, like there was no teaching an old dog new tricks. Laughing, Dad slapped her on the butt and her skirt fell into place when she jerked up.
"Don't let Normie wear that out on me."
"I wish," Mrs. Omed replied sarcastically.
"I wish you'd let me do it on your face more," Dad's voice softened. "It isn't that bad."
"I told you, Norm's waiting for me. Last time I was late getting to the restaurant and when I was brushing my hair in the restroom I saw some in my hair."
"No shit?" Dad laughed.
"It wasn't funny. Thank God it was hidden underneath and nobody saw it. As it was, I could still feel it on my face and I felt just horrible."
"You shouldn't be ashamed of getting what you want. Norm's a good guy but he can't give what you need, just like Lisa can't for me."
"Have you ever asked her?"
"Why bother? She doesn't know how and wouldn't anyway, but you sure do, don't you?"
The lecherous tone returned to Dad's voice as he patted the back of Mrs. Omed's skirt.
"You're not getting any of that."
"Yeah, well you said you'd never let me come on your face either."
"Maybe I won't anymore."
"If you give me your ass, I'll leave your face alone."
"Yeah, right. You want to come on my face every time."
"That's 'cause you always say no."
"I'm not letting you in my butt, even for two weeks off at Christmas."
"Did I say just Christmas? You can have Thanksgiving too. You'll love it, you know..."
Dad turned the light off and their voices trailed off as they made their way to the front of the store. I waited in the dark until I was sure they were both gone.
********
...to be continued
Update - 2
********
Well, I guess I'd discovered what I wanted to know. What did I do now? I couldn't tell Mom. Christ, my own feelings were a mess. On the one hand, I hated Dad for doing this to Mom but on the other I was tremendously excited about the way he had treated Mrs. Omed.
I mean, Mrs. Omed, of all people. I remembered her as prudish, tightly wound-up, and bossy to the girls, kind of like a little matriarch. Yet, there she was, taking a throat fucking and almost a load on her face, followed up by a hard pounding from behind, from her boss.
Her boss. Was that the ticket. Dad had been so confident, so dominant, and this normally in-control woman had subjugated herself. For what? An extra week off over the holidays? That wasn't the real reason. No way. She had prostrated herself before my Dad because he was strong, and because he was, he got her to do things like they did on the porno sites. Except, they were paid to act, no matter how real they tried to make it. But this, what I had just witnessed, wasn't an act, and I was convinced the 'pay' was incidental.
Mrs. Omed obviously wanted to get fucked. Why else would she leave her butt so provocatively presented after Dad bent her over the desk? She could have easily got up after getting the shop towels but she didn't. Yes, Dad was rough but Mrs. Omed invited it.
I wondered if Dad ever treated Mom like that? Mrs. Omed acted like he was incapable of acting differently and the shop towel convinced me they, or at least Dad, had been doing this for years. Dad hadn't started the store, he had inherited it from his father. Had Dad always treated women that way and did they always succumb to him? Mom had worked in the store with Dad when his father still owned it. I knew Mom and Dad met when she started working at the store when his father still ran it. Was Mom the only one who wouldn't submit, or did he not even try like he intimated to Mrs. Omed because she was the marrying kind? Or had she, and he just tired of her? If so, did she miss it?
On the long walk home, I convinced myself it was the former. Dad couldn't handle being a 'Norm' and Mom was the marrying kind, the kind that wasn't a lot of fun, but the type his father would approve of.
"Where were you?" Dad asked when I came in. He was pouring himself a drink and still looked smug.
"Out for a walk," I answered. "Where's Mom?"
"In bed, I guess." I could tell he didn't much care where she was.
I went upstairs, walking softly so I didn't wake Mom. Her door was open and the light was on. I looked in, prepared to say hi but she was lying on her stomach, arms stretched over a pillow, holding a book in front of herself, reading. The covers were thrown back, falling over the end of the bed onto the floor.
It had been a hot summer so far and Mom was wearing a short nightie, lying with her legs apart and one foot raised. I looked up her legs and into the darkness between her thighs, wondering if she was wearing panties underneath. My cock swelled up and I remembered that I had come in my pants while watching Dad and Mrs. Omed, although I didn't know at which point. I needed to shower, but something held me in place.
Mom had nice legs, I noticed, as if for the first time. Sure, I knew Mom was good looking, much prettier and with a better figure than Mrs. Omed, but I had never evaluated her appearance from a sexual perspective. Mom had long, sexy legs and the twin orbs cresting beneath her nightie hinted of a similarly appealing derriere. I imagined Mom bent over Dad's desk, like Mrs. Omed, and touched myself just as her head twitched to the side, as if suddenly aware that someone was behind her. I stepped past the door before she could turn around far enough to see me.
I took a long shower and stood out of the spray so I could jack off without any telltale sounds giving me away. I tried hard but couldn't remember ever hearing Mom and Dad having sex, even though their bedroom was only ten feet away across the hall, except for maybe three or four times. Did they do it during the day? Did Dad sneak home for afternooners?
********
...to be continued
********
Well, I guess I'd discovered what I wanted to know. What did I do now? I couldn't tell Mom. Christ, my own feelings were a mess. On the one hand, I hated Dad for doing this to Mom but on the other I was tremendously excited about the way he had treated Mrs. Omed.
I mean, Mrs. Omed, of all people. I remembered her as prudish, tightly wound-up, and bossy to the girls, kind of like a little matriarch. Yet, there she was, taking a throat fucking and almost a load on her face, followed up by a hard pounding from behind, from her boss.
Her boss. Was that the ticket. Dad had been so confident, so dominant, and this normally in-control woman had subjugated herself. For what? An extra week off over the holidays? That wasn't the real reason. No way. She had prostrated herself before my Dad because he was strong, and because he was, he got her to do things like they did on the porno sites. Except, they were paid to act, no matter how real they tried to make it. But this, what I had just witnessed, wasn't an act, and I was convinced the 'pay' was incidental.
Mrs. Omed obviously wanted to get fucked. Why else would she leave her butt so provocatively presented after Dad bent her over the desk? She could have easily got up after getting the shop towels but she didn't. Yes, Dad was rough but Mrs. Omed invited it.
I wondered if Dad ever treated Mom like that? Mrs. Omed acted like he was incapable of acting differently and the shop towel convinced me they, or at least Dad, had been doing this for years. Dad hadn't started the store, he had inherited it from his father. Had Dad always treated women that way and did they always succumb to him? Mom had worked in the store with Dad when his father still owned it. I knew Mom and Dad met when she started working at the store when his father still ran it. Was Mom the only one who wouldn't submit, or did he not even try like he intimated to Mrs. Omed because she was the marrying kind? Or had she, and he just tired of her? If so, did she miss it?
On the long walk home, I convinced myself it was the former. Dad couldn't handle being a 'Norm' and Mom was the marrying kind, the kind that wasn't a lot of fun, but the type his father would approve of.
"Where were you?" Dad asked when I came in. He was pouring himself a drink and still looked smug.
"Out for a walk," I answered. "Where's Mom?"
"In bed, I guess." I could tell he didn't much care where she was.
I went upstairs, walking softly so I didn't wake Mom. Her door was open and the light was on. I looked in, prepared to say hi but she was lying on her stomach, arms stretched over a pillow, holding a book in front of herself, reading. The covers were thrown back, falling over the end of the bed onto the floor.
It had been a hot summer so far and Mom was wearing a short nightie, lying with her legs apart and one foot raised. I looked up her legs and into the darkness between her thighs, wondering if she was wearing panties underneath. My cock swelled up and I remembered that I had come in my pants while watching Dad and Mrs. Omed, although I didn't know at which point. I needed to shower, but something held me in place.
Mom had nice legs, I noticed, as if for the first time. Sure, I knew Mom was good looking, much prettier and with a better figure than Mrs. Omed, but I had never evaluated her appearance from a sexual perspective. Mom had long, sexy legs and the twin orbs cresting beneath her nightie hinted of a similarly appealing derriere. I imagined Mom bent over Dad's desk, like Mrs. Omed, and touched myself just as her head twitched to the side, as if suddenly aware that someone was behind her. I stepped past the door before she could turn around far enough to see me.
I took a long shower and stood out of the spray so I could jack off without any telltale sounds giving me away. I tried hard but couldn't remember ever hearing Mom and Dad having sex, even though their bedroom was only ten feet away across the hall, except for maybe three or four times. Did they do it during the day? Did Dad sneak home for afternooners?
********
...to be continued
Update - 3
********
"Because I haven't been sleeping well," Mom snapped.
Dad raised his hands and backed off. I was still sitting at the dining room table, eating my dessert, and my parents were in the living room.
"I've been tired lately," Mom's tone became apologetic. "I haven't been myself."
"Maybe you should have a nap in the afternoon," Dad suggested.
My ears perked up. Was this it?
"Yes, maybe I should. Are you working again tonight?"
"No, but I probably will be tomorrow. We have a new order in so I might miss dinner."
"I thought it came in last week."
"That was another one."
"Oh, alright. I'll leave something in the oven for you."
"Don't bother, I'll get something downtown."
"Suit yourself."
"Rob? Are you going to be home tomorrow afternoon?"
"Me? Uh, yeah, I think so." I thought for a moment, then said, "No, I won't. I have to go over to Rick's."
"Oh." Dad looked at Mom. "Maybe I can swing by for a while tomorrow afternoon."
"Okay," Mom looked pleased but not convinced.
I couldn't stop thinking about that exchange all night. I became convinced that Mom and Dad were going to have an afternooner. Why else would he make sure I wouldn't be home? This was my chance to see if Dad treated Mom like he did other women. I had tried, but I couldn't remember much about the times I had heard them having sex except that they had just been a bunch of muffled sounds.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The day dragged slowly, not long after lunch I made a big production of leaving so Mom would know I wasn`t home.
"See ya," I yelled as I left. "I may not make it home for supper. I might be quite late," I added.
There was no response from Mom. I closed the door and revved the car a couple of times before leaving. Parking the car a couple of blocks away, I returned to the house, my eyes peeled for Dad's car even though I was coming from the opposite direction from where he would come. I climbed onto the garage roof and into my room through the window. Dad's car wasn't there.
Cautiously, I listened at the barely cracked open door to my room, trying unsuccessfully to locate Mom in the house. The place was dead quiet, so I stayed where I was. I dared not move lest a floor creak give me away. Time passed. I lay down on the carpet, my head near the door. I stretched out my legs to get comfortable waiting for Dad's arrival.
My eyes opened and I jerked my head up from the carpet. Fuck. I had dozed off.
What was that? I listened intently. Nothing.
Was Dad home? I looked at the window and started to push myself up but stopped. I couldn't check without risking a telltale squeak. I got onto my knees but remained there in a crouch, ear spanning the gap between the door and the jamb. I was breathing shallowly but it was deafening in my ear.
"Mmmmm."
The affect of that faint sound on me was incredible. Every muscle tingled, especially in my scrotum. I looked down at myself and kicked myself for not getting changed earlier.
How could I sneak up for a peek into Mom and Dad's room in my jeans?
"Mmmmm."
There it was again. My ears weren't playing tricks on me.
"Mmmmmm."
How had Dad managed to get in the house without me hearing? Was it part of their foreplay? Did he sneak into the house and take her like some kind of intruder? Having watched my father with another woman, it wouldn't surprise me if he played some kind of kinky game with Mom.
"Mmmmmm."
Shit, he must be eating her out. I've got to get ready. I stood up, teetered, started to grab the door for support, realized the folly of that, and took a single step sideways, thankfully managing to regain my balance without making any noise. Carefully, I made my way to the bed and quietly removed my clothes. I started taking off my shorts, then stopped, realizing that if I was caught, it wouldn't look good if I was stark naked. I made my way back to the door.
"Mmmmm."
I pulled the door open, congratulating myself on possessing the smarts to have oiled the hinges the previous night.
"Mmmmmm."
That was louder but probably because I was in the hallway. I started toward Mom's room, moving very slowly.
"Mmmmmm."
My cock was so hard it was trying to break through my shorts, painfully stretching the material up beyond the waistband. I grasped my shorts and pulled them away from my stomach, letting my cock spring free. Carefully, I let the waistband relax so it wouldn't snap noisily back and congratulated myself again for keeping my wits about me.
"Mmmmm...oh, yesss."
My chest constricted. Mom was really getting into it. I couldn't hear any other noise, so Dad couldn't be fucking her yet. I took two more steps, then paused to listen.
"Mmmmmm, nice."
Mom's appreciation was followed by a brief liquid-like squelching noise.
"Yesss."
More squelches.
My cock lurched, even though the waistband of my shorts held it tight against my stomach. I pushed my shorts down to my knees, then stooped to shove them over my feet, lifting one leg at a time. I turned and tossed them toward my door but they fell short and landed in the hallway.
Squelch, squelch, squelch.
"Ohhhh, yess."
Dad was there! He had to be eating Mom to make such squishy sounds without the concomitant noise of depressed mattress springs. He couldn't be just fingering her unless he was pushing his whole hand into cunt, like he did with Mrs. Omed. My cock oozed its special cream. Fuck, oh fuck, I had to see this! I closed the remaining distance to the door, took a deep but controlled breath, and peered inside.
Mom was lying on her bed. Alone!
She was face down, lying on a pillow but lower than before, under her stomach instead of her chest, and she wasn't reading. I couldn't see her head, just her hair, but I saw enough that I could tell she was looking to the right. I looked that way and found myself staring at the open door to the bathroom, wondering if Dad was inside. Fear of impending discovery gripped my mind but not enough to make me retreat.
Nothing happened. Dad didn't come out and I couldn't hear any noises in the bathroom. I looked back at Mom and saw that she wasn't actually looking at the bathroom. She was looking at the TV hanging on the wall beside it, watching the porn movie quietly playing on the screen. I could barely heard it from the doorway.
"Mmmmm."
I turned and faced into the doorway. Mom was wearing the same nightie, or one a lot like it, that I had seen her in before but now it was pulled up onto her back leaving her ass bare. She wasn't wearing any panties. Her legs were open, wider than before, and her behind was moving up and down, just a little. My eyes followed its movements for a minute before I noticed something between Mom's legs.
Her hand?
Yes, but something else too. Something black and shiny, glistening with moistness, appearing and then disappearing.
A dildo.
Fucking hell, Mom was doing herself with a big dildo, her ass gently moving up and down with a steady rhythm. As I watched her over the next few minutes, I noticed her thighs flexing more strongly with each passing moment and her buttocks clenching tighter with each downward thrust, pausing on the downswing for a microsecond longer each time. A very controlled, intense self-fuck.
The air was filled with a lot more "Mmmmm's" now and each one was more prolonged. Mom was getting into it, becoming hornier and hornier just like I was. I don't know when I started jacking off but suddenly became aware that I was stroking my cock and clutching my balls. I had dangerously moved several feet forward, unaware that I had done so, and was only five feet or so from the bed.
I looked at the TV. A large man wearing a medieval-looking, studded leather outfit was slowly shoving an impossibly large cock in and out of a woman dressed in a simple white dress that had fallen up her back as she hunched over on her knees. Her hands were tied behind her and the giant man held them in one hand while he slapped her ass with the other.
I looked back at Mom, suddenly conscious of the fact that if it wasn't for the muted sound from the TV, Mom could probably hear my own breathing that had become much more excited during the past few minutes.
I had to get out of here!
I started to take a step back but stopped mid-step. What was Mom wearing? There was something black around her head. I leaned forward, peering to see what it was. A mask. Mom couldn't even see what was on the TV!
I started retreating again but was still leaning forward and I stumbled, my foot falling more heavily on the floor but still barely making a sound. I don't know what gave me away, that silent footfall or my breathing, but Mom suddenly lifted her head.
Mom's ass had frozen on the up-stroke, the black dildo plainly showing, half embedded in her pussy. Her head twisted further. She would easily be able to let go of the dildo and remove the mask before I could make it to the door. I was trapped!
I was nailed to the floor, not breathing. Mom's neck showed the strain of craning around to 'look' behind her. She was listening as intently as I was desperate not to make a sound. I needed to breathe.
Please, turn away. Please Mom. It's nothing. There's nobody here. Not even Dad.
Dad? Of course. Mom was expecting Dad. All of this was in preparation for his entrance. That's why she didn't call his name. That would ruin their role-playing game. I had only one chance and I took it.
I ran toward the bed, jumped, and pounced on Mom, pinning her legs and grabbing the back of her neck, then forced her head down into the bed, controlling it the way I had seen Dad do with Mrs. Omed. Mom waited, panting heavily.
What now? I couldn't just leave. I had to do something. I couldn't fuck her. After all, she was my mother. Spying on her was one thing, actually touching her quite another, but I had to do something. I reached down and took possession of the dildo. Uncertain at first, but with more confidence, I moved it in and out of Mom's pussy, keeping my other hand on the back of her neck to immobilize her head.
After a minute or two, without any struggle from Mom and, in fact, complete acceptance, I relaxed. I let my hand slide down from Mom's neck to caress her back, following along her spine until I reached the bare skin in the small of her back. Tentatively, I moved my hand onto Mom's ass and brushed my fingers back and forth across her buttocks, eventually pausing to let my fingertips trail up her crack.
Awesome! Fucking awesome!
Mom lifted her ass in a silent request for more, of my fingertips or the dildo I didn't know, so I gave her more of both. She arched her back so I knew I had done well. I slipped my left hand up Mom's back, under the nightie, taking my fill of her bare skin. I couldn't believe that Dad could do what he did with this waiting for him at home.
I stretched my hand right through the nightie and up onto the back of Mom's neck, pinching my fingers around it in a controlling clutch. If there was a message in my touch, Mom got it because she arched her back even more and ground her uplifted ass around the dildo when I sunk it in deep. She moaned loudly.
Oh Jeez, that fucking sound almost made me come. I looked down at my hard cock waving above Mom's bare ass, at hers churning on the dildo, and pulled it out. Mom groaned, a magnificent, disappointed plea.
I stared at her gaping pussy lips, trembling before me, aching to be parted, so the cavern they protected could be filled. I put my hand on my cock and bent it toward Mom's gaping cunt.
No! She's Mom!
I let my hand slide off my cock or, more accurately, shoved it off. It collided with Mom's mewling ass. Slowly, I clenched my fingers into a fist and ground my knuckles into Mom's pussy lips. She moaned loudly again. I opened my hand, let my fingers find her lips, and slipped inside.
So wet, so deliciously wet, and warm. I had never been with a woman. I had only watched porn and felt up Margaret Wenton on a couple of dates. Were women actually supposed to be hot?
I worked my fingers in and around Mom's pussy, twisting my hand while my fingers stretched out in eager exploration. Mom's moans told me she loved what I, what 'Dad', was doing. I closed my fingers together, as if I was about to shake someone's hand, like Dad had done with Mrs. Omed, and pushed.
"Ohhoowwwwohhhhh," Mom groaned.
I stopped but when Mom didn't complain further, I pushed in again.
"Mmmmmm."
Farther.
"Ohhhhh, God."
Twist.
"Oh Jesus, oh God. Ted!"
At that moment I realized my thinking Mom was waiting for Dad was only an assumption. She might have been expecting a lover. So why did she suddenly freeze, her ass just starting to hump back for more? What was wrong? She had called Dad's name. Was that a no-no in their game? I pulled my hand back a bit but then pushed immediately back in, twisting my hand to force her love tunnel open. Mom relaxed and her ass started squirming around my hand again. She must think she was forgiven.
I had a ball for half an hour after that. I worked and teased and bludgeoned Mom's cunt with my fist. I alternately tickled and stroked her ass, back and neck, and grabbed
her head forcefully, then leaned with my elbow across her lower back while I frigged her furiously with my whole hand. She went nuts. She was so desperately horny I wondered how long Dad had ignored her. She craved my hand, groaning and moaning, even wailing at the end, shouting her orgasm to the world as her pussy flooded its pent-up dam over my arm. In the end, I was leaning over a whimpering sack of quivering, moist flesh, my cock wavering hungrily above a trembling, oh so feminine ass.
I looked down at that gorgeous ass and thought, paraphrasing my father, I'm going to have me some of that.
I straddled Mom's thighs and used my feet to push her legs together.
You can't.
Ignoring my conscience, I leaned forward and pushed Mom's nightie up her back, all the way to her neck. She moved her arms above her head in compliance and I shoved the nightie up her arms but left it covering her head. I placed my hand on Mom's shoulders, paused for the briefest moment, then slipped them underneath her and grasped her tits.
What wonderful nipples! Long and hard. My fingers tweaked, rolled, pulled, stretched and tugged them this way and that. I was leaning so far forward, crouching over Mom, that my head was right above hers. I pushed myself lower and felt my cock slide between her cheeks until the tip fell between her legs, bumping against her lower lips.
I'm going to have me some of this.
I pushed into her lips.
No! She's Mom!
But wouldn't she expect Dad to fuck her? Wouldn't it be a big put-down if he didn't even want to fuck her? I had to...for Mom's sake. I had to fuck her.
I pushed inside until Mom's lips enveloped my helmet. Mom moaned at the same time as me. I started to shove it in farther, wanting to ram it all the way in to the hilt, but suddenly yanked it out instead. Mom groaned.
I leaned forward and my cock skidded up Mom's crack. I pushed it between her cheeks and started moving. There was no finesse. I went wild. I'm sure it looked like a mad man had attached himself to Mom's back. I humped and humped and humped. I can only thank the stars that I didn't cry out or mumble sweet nothings to my beautiful mother. She was so awesome, and her ass cheeks felt so wonderful, but I wanted to be inside her pussy instead.
I probably didn't last more than three or four minutes but the amount I unloaded onto Mom's ass probably would have taken my father a month to produce. I sat up and slowly gouged my cock through her cheeks, wrenching every exquisite tingle from my sore cock. Exhausted, I sat still, astride my mother, looking down at the crevice between her cheeks, filled with my cum, and wondering what to do next.
Would I have to run away? Would she look before I got to the door?
Those thought yanked my mind from the heights of elation crashing down to harsh reality. Mom had been expecting Dad. I was lucky he hadn't come home and found us but he could be here any minute! I had to get the fuck out.
I worked my way down Mom's legs until I could step backward off the bed. As soon as I backed my way to the door, I fled to my room and burst inside, then belatedly grabbed my shorts from where they had landed in the hall. Thank God I didn't forget them. I dressed quickly and climbed out the window, jumped off the garage roof, and ran to the front of the house, then to the neighbors in the direction Dad usually drove home. I had to head him off, let him know I was home so he wouldn't try to take his afternooner with Mom. If he came in a second time, she would know something was wrong. I waited for hours but Dad didn't come until dinner time.
********
...to be continued
********
"Because I haven't been sleeping well," Mom snapped.
Dad raised his hands and backed off. I was still sitting at the dining room table, eating my dessert, and my parents were in the living room.
"I've been tired lately," Mom's tone became apologetic. "I haven't been myself."
"Maybe you should have a nap in the afternoon," Dad suggested.
My ears perked up. Was this it?
"Yes, maybe I should. Are you working again tonight?"
"No, but I probably will be tomorrow. We have a new order in so I might miss dinner."
"I thought it came in last week."
"That was another one."
"Oh, alright. I'll leave something in the oven for you."
"Don't bother, I'll get something downtown."
"Suit yourself."
"Rob? Are you going to be home tomorrow afternoon?"
"Me? Uh, yeah, I think so." I thought for a moment, then said, "No, I won't. I have to go over to Rick's."
"Oh." Dad looked at Mom. "Maybe I can swing by for a while tomorrow afternoon."
"Okay," Mom looked pleased but not convinced.
I couldn't stop thinking about that exchange all night. I became convinced that Mom and Dad were going to have an afternooner. Why else would he make sure I wouldn't be home? This was my chance to see if Dad treated Mom like he did other women. I had tried, but I couldn't remember much about the times I had heard them having sex except that they had just been a bunch of muffled sounds.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The day dragged slowly, not long after lunch I made a big production of leaving so Mom would know I wasn`t home.
"See ya," I yelled as I left. "I may not make it home for supper. I might be quite late," I added.
There was no response from Mom. I closed the door and revved the car a couple of times before leaving. Parking the car a couple of blocks away, I returned to the house, my eyes peeled for Dad's car even though I was coming from the opposite direction from where he would come. I climbed onto the garage roof and into my room through the window. Dad's car wasn't there.
Cautiously, I listened at the barely cracked open door to my room, trying unsuccessfully to locate Mom in the house. The place was dead quiet, so I stayed where I was. I dared not move lest a floor creak give me away. Time passed. I lay down on the carpet, my head near the door. I stretched out my legs to get comfortable waiting for Dad's arrival.
My eyes opened and I jerked my head up from the carpet. Fuck. I had dozed off.
What was that? I listened intently. Nothing.
Was Dad home? I looked at the window and started to push myself up but stopped. I couldn't check without risking a telltale squeak. I got onto my knees but remained there in a crouch, ear spanning the gap between the door and the jamb. I was breathing shallowly but it was deafening in my ear.
"Mmmmm."
The affect of that faint sound on me was incredible. Every muscle tingled, especially in my scrotum. I looked down at myself and kicked myself for not getting changed earlier.
How could I sneak up for a peek into Mom and Dad's room in my jeans?
"Mmmmm."
There it was again. My ears weren't playing tricks on me.
"Mmmmmm."
How had Dad managed to get in the house without me hearing? Was it part of their foreplay? Did he sneak into the house and take her like some kind of intruder? Having watched my father with another woman, it wouldn't surprise me if he played some kind of kinky game with Mom.
"Mmmmmm."
Shit, he must be eating her out. I've got to get ready. I stood up, teetered, started to grab the door for support, realized the folly of that, and took a single step sideways, thankfully managing to regain my balance without making any noise. Carefully, I made my way to the bed and quietly removed my clothes. I started taking off my shorts, then stopped, realizing that if I was caught, it wouldn't look good if I was stark naked. I made my way back to the door.
"Mmmmm."
I pulled the door open, congratulating myself on possessing the smarts to have oiled the hinges the previous night.
"Mmmmmm."
That was louder but probably because I was in the hallway. I started toward Mom's room, moving very slowly.
"Mmmmmm."
My cock was so hard it was trying to break through my shorts, painfully stretching the material up beyond the waistband. I grasped my shorts and pulled them away from my stomach, letting my cock spring free. Carefully, I let the waistband relax so it wouldn't snap noisily back and congratulated myself again for keeping my wits about me.
"Mmmmm...oh, yesss."
My chest constricted. Mom was really getting into it. I couldn't hear any other noise, so Dad couldn't be fucking her yet. I took two more steps, then paused to listen.
"Mmmmmm, nice."
Mom's appreciation was followed by a brief liquid-like squelching noise.
"Yesss."
More squelches.
My cock lurched, even though the waistband of my shorts held it tight against my stomach. I pushed my shorts down to my knees, then stooped to shove them over my feet, lifting one leg at a time. I turned and tossed them toward my door but they fell short and landed in the hallway.
Squelch, squelch, squelch.
"Ohhhh, yess."
Dad was there! He had to be eating Mom to make such squishy sounds without the concomitant noise of depressed mattress springs. He couldn't be just fingering her unless he was pushing his whole hand into cunt, like he did with Mrs. Omed. My cock oozed its special cream. Fuck, oh fuck, I had to see this! I closed the remaining distance to the door, took a deep but controlled breath, and peered inside.
Mom was lying on her bed. Alone!
She was face down, lying on a pillow but lower than before, under her stomach instead of her chest, and she wasn't reading. I couldn't see her head, just her hair, but I saw enough that I could tell she was looking to the right. I looked that way and found myself staring at the open door to the bathroom, wondering if Dad was inside. Fear of impending discovery gripped my mind but not enough to make me retreat.
Nothing happened. Dad didn't come out and I couldn't hear any noises in the bathroom. I looked back at Mom and saw that she wasn't actually looking at the bathroom. She was looking at the TV hanging on the wall beside it, watching the porn movie quietly playing on the screen. I could barely heard it from the doorway.
"Mmmmm."
I turned and faced into the doorway. Mom was wearing the same nightie, or one a lot like it, that I had seen her in before but now it was pulled up onto her back leaving her ass bare. She wasn't wearing any panties. Her legs were open, wider than before, and her behind was moving up and down, just a little. My eyes followed its movements for a minute before I noticed something between Mom's legs.
Her hand?
Yes, but something else too. Something black and shiny, glistening with moistness, appearing and then disappearing.
A dildo.
Fucking hell, Mom was doing herself with a big dildo, her ass gently moving up and down with a steady rhythm. As I watched her over the next few minutes, I noticed her thighs flexing more strongly with each passing moment and her buttocks clenching tighter with each downward thrust, pausing on the downswing for a microsecond longer each time. A very controlled, intense self-fuck.
The air was filled with a lot more "Mmmmm's" now and each one was more prolonged. Mom was getting into it, becoming hornier and hornier just like I was. I don't know when I started jacking off but suddenly became aware that I was stroking my cock and clutching my balls. I had dangerously moved several feet forward, unaware that I had done so, and was only five feet or so from the bed.
I looked at the TV. A large man wearing a medieval-looking, studded leather outfit was slowly shoving an impossibly large cock in and out of a woman dressed in a simple white dress that had fallen up her back as she hunched over on her knees. Her hands were tied behind her and the giant man held them in one hand while he slapped her ass with the other.
I looked back at Mom, suddenly conscious of the fact that if it wasn't for the muted sound from the TV, Mom could probably hear my own breathing that had become much more excited during the past few minutes.
I had to get out of here!
I started to take a step back but stopped mid-step. What was Mom wearing? There was something black around her head. I leaned forward, peering to see what it was. A mask. Mom couldn't even see what was on the TV!
I started retreating again but was still leaning forward and I stumbled, my foot falling more heavily on the floor but still barely making a sound. I don't know what gave me away, that silent footfall or my breathing, but Mom suddenly lifted her head.
Mom's ass had frozen on the up-stroke, the black dildo plainly showing, half embedded in her pussy. Her head twisted further. She would easily be able to let go of the dildo and remove the mask before I could make it to the door. I was trapped!
I was nailed to the floor, not breathing. Mom's neck showed the strain of craning around to 'look' behind her. She was listening as intently as I was desperate not to make a sound. I needed to breathe.
Please, turn away. Please Mom. It's nothing. There's nobody here. Not even Dad.
Dad? Of course. Mom was expecting Dad. All of this was in preparation for his entrance. That's why she didn't call his name. That would ruin their role-playing game. I had only one chance and I took it.
I ran toward the bed, jumped, and pounced on Mom, pinning her legs and grabbing the back of her neck, then forced her head down into the bed, controlling it the way I had seen Dad do with Mrs. Omed. Mom waited, panting heavily.
What now? I couldn't just leave. I had to do something. I couldn't fuck her. After all, she was my mother. Spying on her was one thing, actually touching her quite another, but I had to do something. I reached down and took possession of the dildo. Uncertain at first, but with more confidence, I moved it in and out of Mom's pussy, keeping my other hand on the back of her neck to immobilize her head.
After a minute or two, without any struggle from Mom and, in fact, complete acceptance, I relaxed. I let my hand slide down from Mom's neck to caress her back, following along her spine until I reached the bare skin in the small of her back. Tentatively, I moved my hand onto Mom's ass and brushed my fingers back and forth across her buttocks, eventually pausing to let my fingertips trail up her crack.
Awesome! Fucking awesome!
Mom lifted her ass in a silent request for more, of my fingertips or the dildo I didn't know, so I gave her more of both. She arched her back so I knew I had done well. I slipped my left hand up Mom's back, under the nightie, taking my fill of her bare skin. I couldn't believe that Dad could do what he did with this waiting for him at home.
I stretched my hand right through the nightie and up onto the back of Mom's neck, pinching my fingers around it in a controlling clutch. If there was a message in my touch, Mom got it because she arched her back even more and ground her uplifted ass around the dildo when I sunk it in deep. She moaned loudly.
Oh Jeez, that fucking sound almost made me come. I looked down at my hard cock waving above Mom's bare ass, at hers churning on the dildo, and pulled it out. Mom groaned, a magnificent, disappointed plea.
I stared at her gaping pussy lips, trembling before me, aching to be parted, so the cavern they protected could be filled. I put my hand on my cock and bent it toward Mom's gaping cunt.
No! She's Mom!
I let my hand slide off my cock or, more accurately, shoved it off. It collided with Mom's mewling ass. Slowly, I clenched my fingers into a fist and ground my knuckles into Mom's pussy lips. She moaned loudly again. I opened my hand, let my fingers find her lips, and slipped inside.
So wet, so deliciously wet, and warm. I had never been with a woman. I had only watched porn and felt up Margaret Wenton on a couple of dates. Were women actually supposed to be hot?
I worked my fingers in and around Mom's pussy, twisting my hand while my fingers stretched out in eager exploration. Mom's moans told me she loved what I, what 'Dad', was doing. I closed my fingers together, as if I was about to shake someone's hand, like Dad had done with Mrs. Omed, and pushed.
"Ohhoowwwwohhhhh," Mom groaned.
I stopped but when Mom didn't complain further, I pushed in again.
"Mmmmmm."
Farther.
"Ohhhhh, God."
Twist.
"Oh Jesus, oh God. Ted!"
At that moment I realized my thinking Mom was waiting for Dad was only an assumption. She might have been expecting a lover. So why did she suddenly freeze, her ass just starting to hump back for more? What was wrong? She had called Dad's name. Was that a no-no in their game? I pulled my hand back a bit but then pushed immediately back in, twisting my hand to force her love tunnel open. Mom relaxed and her ass started squirming around my hand again. She must think she was forgiven.
I had a ball for half an hour after that. I worked and teased and bludgeoned Mom's cunt with my fist. I alternately tickled and stroked her ass, back and neck, and grabbed
her head forcefully, then leaned with my elbow across her lower back while I frigged her furiously with my whole hand. She went nuts. She was so desperately horny I wondered how long Dad had ignored her. She craved my hand, groaning and moaning, even wailing at the end, shouting her orgasm to the world as her pussy flooded its pent-up dam over my arm. In the end, I was leaning over a whimpering sack of quivering, moist flesh, my cock wavering hungrily above a trembling, oh so feminine ass.
I looked down at that gorgeous ass and thought, paraphrasing my father, I'm going to have me some of that.
I straddled Mom's thighs and used my feet to push her legs together.
You can't.
Ignoring my conscience, I leaned forward and pushed Mom's nightie up her back, all the way to her neck. She moved her arms above her head in compliance and I shoved the nightie up her arms but left it covering her head. I placed my hand on Mom's shoulders, paused for the briefest moment, then slipped them underneath her and grasped her tits.
What wonderful nipples! Long and hard. My fingers tweaked, rolled, pulled, stretched and tugged them this way and that. I was leaning so far forward, crouching over Mom, that my head was right above hers. I pushed myself lower and felt my cock slide between her cheeks until the tip fell between her legs, bumping against her lower lips.
I'm going to have me some of this.
I pushed into her lips.
No! She's Mom!
But wouldn't she expect Dad to fuck her? Wouldn't it be a big put-down if he didn't even want to fuck her? I had to...for Mom's sake. I had to fuck her.
I pushed inside until Mom's lips enveloped my helmet. Mom moaned at the same time as me. I started to shove it in farther, wanting to ram it all the way in to the hilt, but suddenly yanked it out instead. Mom groaned.
I leaned forward and my cock skidded up Mom's crack. I pushed it between her cheeks and started moving. There was no finesse. I went wild. I'm sure it looked like a mad man had attached himself to Mom's back. I humped and humped and humped. I can only thank the stars that I didn't cry out or mumble sweet nothings to my beautiful mother. She was so awesome, and her ass cheeks felt so wonderful, but I wanted to be inside her pussy instead.
I probably didn't last more than three or four minutes but the amount I unloaded onto Mom's ass probably would have taken my father a month to produce. I sat up and slowly gouged my cock through her cheeks, wrenching every exquisite tingle from my sore cock. Exhausted, I sat still, astride my mother, looking down at the crevice between her cheeks, filled with my cum, and wondering what to do next.
Would I have to run away? Would she look before I got to the door?
Those thought yanked my mind from the heights of elation crashing down to harsh reality. Mom had been expecting Dad. I was lucky he hadn't come home and found us but he could be here any minute! I had to get the fuck out.
I worked my way down Mom's legs until I could step backward off the bed. As soon as I backed my way to the door, I fled to my room and burst inside, then belatedly grabbed my shorts from where they had landed in the hall. Thank God I didn't forget them. I dressed quickly and climbed out the window, jumped off the garage roof, and ran to the front of the house, then to the neighbors in the direction Dad usually drove home. I had to head him off, let him know I was home so he wouldn't try to take his afternooner with Mom. If he came in a second time, she would know something was wrong. I waited for hours but Dad didn't come until dinner time.
********
...to be continued
Update - 4
********
I was afraid to go into the house but knew I had to. I half expected to be attacked as soon as I got in the door, sure that Mom knew it had to have been me when Dad made his excuse for not getting home in the afternoon. However, everything was fine. Mom treated me the way she always did but she was more attentive than usual with Dad. I thanked my lucky stars that Dad didn't apologize about forgetting to come home and Mom didn't mention his supposed visit. All I could do was hope they didn't talk about it alone after they went to bed.
It eventually dawned on me that Mom was acting like any woman who had recently made love to her mate. She was softer, more feminine, and in a good mood, but Dad was his normal aloof self. His whole demeanor spoke volumes. This was simply where he ate and slept, but Mom acted as if something was different.
We were sitting in the living room, watching TV, when Mom asked Dad, "Are you coming home tomorrow afternoon?"
Every muscle in my body went rigid. This was it. Dad would say 'yes' and that he was sorry about not making it today. I got ready to make a run for it.
"No, maybe Thursday," Dad replied off-handedly, looking like he didn't want to be bothered.
Mom smiled and left it at that.
That night, I struggled with the fact that I had almost fucked my mother. The only saving grace was that, in the end, I had come to my senses. Still, I had spewed my spunk all over her ass and I couldn't forgive myself completely, at least, not that easily. I swore that it would never happen again. I was lucky to have gotten away with it, and luckier still that I hadn't actually gone all the way. I would take that luck to the bank and never be bad again.
Within the hour, my hand had found my cock and my mind filled with visions of Mom, blindfolded, waving her ass under my nose, begging to be taken.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I had been sitting in place for almost an hour before Mrs. Omed came to the back, got her coat, and returned into the store. I heard her saying goodbye to 'Mr. Horlock'.
Obviously, others were still in the store. Several more goodnights followed before the outer lights dimmed. Shit, they were all going home. I had hoped to see another session between Dad and Mrs. Omed. I thought maybe she might give him her ass tonight but she had been the first one to leave.
Footsteps and voices approached. The domineering was my father, the pleading one I didn't recognize. Dad burst through the curtain and strode into his office, followed by a woman in maybe her late twenties. She was blonde, slim and attractive.
"Please, Mr. Horlock. I need this job."
Dad had seated himself and was looking at some papers on his desk. He waved off-handedly at the young woman to signal he didn't want to hear anymore.
"I don't know why Mrs. Omed said that. I sometimes forget about the accessories but I know I can do better. I can sell more. Please, Mr. Horlock, my little boy..."
Ahhh, it was one of the single moms. Dad swiveled around in his chair.
"What about your son?"
The woman looked crestfallen, visibly shrinking in front of my father.
"He's in little league now and I won't be able to afford, I mean, if I lose my job, how will I be able to pay..."
Dad stood up.
"All right now."
He put his arms around the sobbing woman and pulled her close, patting her on the back.
"Nobody's going to lose their job...yet."
The sniffling woman pulled her head back to look at my father.
"No?"
Dad pulled her close again. "No," he said, patting her back.
The woman sobbed, then spread her arms and curled them around Dad in a big hug.
"Oh, Mr. Horlock, you don't know how..."
Her voice abruptly cut off as Dad's hands slid down from her shoulder blades to her waist and then farther, onto her supple buttocks.
"Mr. Horlock?"
"There, there. We'll give you another chance."
Dad's hands clutched the woman's cheeks.
"Mr. Horlock..."
Dad released the woman and sat down in his chair. He took her hands in his.
"Look, I know how important it is to provide a good home for your son, maybe even buy him extra things, so if your performance improves..."
Dad paused, looking up at the woman.
"Here, come down here where we can see each other eye to eye."
Dad pulled on the woman's hands and she fell to her knees on the carpet in front of him.
"That's better. Now, where was I? Oh yes. If your performance improves to the point that I'm satisfied with it, you can keep your job, and I'll even give you a little raise."
Dad's hands slid up the outside of the woman's arms and onto her shoulders, then back down but this time he pushed them under her arms and held her sides, by her breasts.
"Mr. Horlock..."
"We'll even start you off with a little bonus."
Dad's hands moved down to the woman's waist, the back up along her sides.
"Mr. Horlock, I..."
"That's much better than losing your job tonight, isn't it?"
The woman didn't answer. Dad moved his hands again, this time more slowly and suggestively, palms pressing in against the side of her breasts.
"Isn't it?" he asked.
The woman said something but I couldn't hear.
"What's that?" Dad's voice was more confident, demanding.
"Yes," the woman replied meekly.
"Of course it is," Dad said benevolently, moving his hands to the front of the woman's dress.
She looked down and to the side while Dad rubbed his palms on the front of her dress. Despite the forward cant of her head, her blonde hair was long enough to remain hanging over her shoulder. Still, with her head to the side, I could see that she was pale with fine features, a delicate woman. She suddenly stiffened and I knew that Dad, keeping his palm pressed against the front of the dress, had closed his fingers to take in the full form of her breasts.
"Everything will be fine, Jennifer, you'll see."
Evidently satisfied with the way things were going and confident about where they were headed, Dad released Jennifer's breasts and slid his hands around to the back of her neck. He fumbled with the hook for a few seconds and then slid the zipper down the back of her dress. Jennifer shivered as her back was exposed but didn't interfere.
"You're such a pretty girl. It's a shame your husband was such a deadbeat, it really is, but you're better off without him. Things don't have to be so hard on you, you know, you don't have to do it all on your own."
While he was talking in his slithery voice, Dad unsnapped the back of Jennifer's bra and pushed its straps and the dress down her arms to her elbows. She was very slender. He sat back and looked at the woman, who was still kneeling before him, face turned down and to her left, as if ashamed of her exposure and that she was allowing it to happen.
"That's better. I'm sure things will start looking up from now on," Dad smiled.
He put his finger under Jennifer's chin, lifted her face and turned it toward him.
"Things are going to get better, aren't they?"
"Yes," Jennifer mumbled.
"Of course they are."
Dad took Jennifer's right hand and placed it on his pants, directly on the noticeable bulge there.
"Let's see what kind of bonus you're worth, shall we?"
Jennifer didn't move.
"Well, get on with it."
Jennifer jerked and pulled her hand away to cover her mouth, stifling a sob.
"Enough of that," Dad barked. He unzipped his pants and pulled her hand back, stuffing it inside his zipper. "That's it, don't be afraid. Just wiggle your fingers a little."
I couldn't see if Jennifer complied with his demand because her head was in the way.
"Wiggle them!"
"Yeah, that's it. See what you can do. He really likes it. Look how you've made him grow. Oh yeah, I can see you've got a talent for this. Ahhhhh, shit yeah."
Jennifer moved her head and, from my vantage point in the loft above and slightly to the left behind Jennifer, I could now see her fingers moving inside Dad's pants.
"You want to see it, don't you?"
Dad didn't wait for an answer.
"Take it out. Go ahead, you can look at it if you want."
Jennifer shook her head.
"Take it out!"
Jennifer fumbled in Dad's pants for a few seconds but finally managed to pull his cock out.
"There you go. Bet your loser husband didn't have one like that, did he?"
Jennifer shook her head. Dad might be a braggart but he did have a decent sized cock. It pleased me to be a recipient of my father's genes and, as disgusting as this scene was, I was fascinated by it and my father's unrepentant exercise of power.
"Jack it," Dad commanded.
Jennifer curled her delicate fingers around Dad's shaft and hesitantly stroked it up and down.
"Grip it harder."
"Move your hand all the way up and down."
"Right over the head. That's it. Squeeze it. Ahhhh, yeah. Keep doing it like that."
Jennifer moved her hand up and down and Dad leaned back to enjoy it. After a while, he leaned forward and pawed her breasts. I could see his right hand cupping her left breast.
"You're not very big. I bet you had nothing before you had a kid but they're not too bad now. A little slopey, but you got nice nipples."
He pinched her nipple and pulled her tit away from her chest.
"Do you like that?"
Jennifer shook her head but her hand never stopped moving.
"You know what they say about women with small tits?"
Jennifer shook her head again.
"They're good cocksuckers," Dad laughed loudly. He stopped laughing abruptly. "Are you a good cocksucker Jennifer?"
She shook her head.
"You mean to tell me that deadbeat husband of yours never made you suck his cock?"
Jennifer shook his head.
"What a wiener," Dad laughed but abruptly became serious. "Get on it."
Jennifer looked up at him.
"Come on, enough with the hand. Put your mouth on it."
Jennifer kept looking up at Dad, unmoving, like a deer caught in head lights.
"Come on," Dad urged, displacing her hand on his cock with his own and placing the other on top of her head.
He pulled her head forward and fed his cock into her mouth. Jennifer sputtered and Dad pulled his cock back.
"Too big?" Dad laughed. "That's okay, you'll get used to it."
He jammed it back into Jennifer's mouth but when she sputtered again he ignored her, knotted his fingers in the hair on top of her head and pulled her onto his cock. He didn't stop until Jennifer choked and yanked her head back, gagging. Dad laughed and as soon as she stopped coughing, he jammed his cock back into her face.
"Deeper, come on, you can do it."
Jennifer tried to grab Dad's cock but he batted her hands away.
"Okay, we'll work it in slowly."
Dad grabbed both sides of Jennifer's head and started flexing his hips, fucking into her face. She kept trying to pull her head back but couldn't. Dad kept up a steady rhythm but didn't go too deep and after a while until Jennifer seemed to relax. I guess she had learned to handle the assault, the brutal invasion of my father's meat in her mouth. When she was taking his cock easily, he started pulling on her head and shoving it in deeper. Every few thrusts, Dad pulled out and let Jennifer clear her throat, but shoved his meat back into her mouth quicker each time.
I was amazed by how quickly Jennifer adapted to Dad's cock plunging deep into her mouth. At first, she had barely been able to take his head in but now Dad was pulling her face all the way down to his balls and holding it there for a few seconds before releasing her and letting her head pop off his cock and then, right away, pulling her back onto it.
This went on for a while and I wondered when Dad was going to stand up and bend Jennifer over the desk like did to Mrs. Omed but when he started breathing harder and harder, I knew he wasn't going to. He was going to unload on her face, the way Mrs. Omed wouldn't let him. Sure enough, Dad suddenly held Jennifer's head firmly in place and thrust frantically in her face. He was gasping and moaning really loud. He stood up in a half crouch and continued plunging into Jennifer's upturned face.
Then he was yelling, making weird, primeval sounds, coming in her mouth, grabbing his cock and pulling it out, steering it around her face, covering her with his spunk. Only when the last drop dripped off his cock did he release her hair.
"Lick it clean," he commanded.
Jennifer dutifully took Dad's cock back into her mouth and sucked until he pulled it out, satisfied. He turned around, grabbed the roll of shop towels, tore off several sheets, and threw them at her.
"Clean yourself up."
He stuffed his cock away and zipped up. Jennifer had stood and was getting some more shop towels, her dress sliding unnoticed over her slim hips and down her legs to the floor, revealing a pair of cheap cotton panties barely covering a nice, tight little butt. Dad admired her pear-like cheeks and patted the right one.
"I was right. You're a great little cocksucker, Jennifer, and you've got a nice little ass to boot. Too bad you wore me out with your mouth. Look, here's a hundred for you and another to get some extra babysitting for your kid. I want to see you tomorrow, no, make that Thursday. I'll have a talk with Mrs. Omed tomorrow to straighten her out and let her know about your raise. Now, go pick out some nice under things from the store for yourself, and maybe a dress or two. Nothing too expensive, mind you."
Dad stuffed the bills into Jennifer's hand.
"Don't worry kid. You got a job here for life it you keep that up." He looked down her front. "And don't forget the panties. Those things don't do justice to what you got under there."
Jennifer stooped to pick up her dress and pulled it up. She zipped up without putting the bra on, holding it in her hand with the money.
"Listen, honey. If you start having second thoughts, think about your kid and how you'll get another job if I spread the word that you're a little thief."
Jennifer looked indignant and started to protest but was stopped by Dad's sneering smile.
"It's a tough world, kid. Run along home now and don't be calling in sick tomorrow."
********
...to be continued
********
I was afraid to go into the house but knew I had to. I half expected to be attacked as soon as I got in the door, sure that Mom knew it had to have been me when Dad made his excuse for not getting home in the afternoon. However, everything was fine. Mom treated me the way she always did but she was more attentive than usual with Dad. I thanked my lucky stars that Dad didn't apologize about forgetting to come home and Mom didn't mention his supposed visit. All I could do was hope they didn't talk about it alone after they went to bed.
It eventually dawned on me that Mom was acting like any woman who had recently made love to her mate. She was softer, more feminine, and in a good mood, but Dad was his normal aloof self. His whole demeanor spoke volumes. This was simply where he ate and slept, but Mom acted as if something was different.
We were sitting in the living room, watching TV, when Mom asked Dad, "Are you coming home tomorrow afternoon?"
Every muscle in my body went rigid. This was it. Dad would say 'yes' and that he was sorry about not making it today. I got ready to make a run for it.
"No, maybe Thursday," Dad replied off-handedly, looking like he didn't want to be bothered.
Mom smiled and left it at that.
That night, I struggled with the fact that I had almost fucked my mother. The only saving grace was that, in the end, I had come to my senses. Still, I had spewed my spunk all over her ass and I couldn't forgive myself completely, at least, not that easily. I swore that it would never happen again. I was lucky to have gotten away with it, and luckier still that I hadn't actually gone all the way. I would take that luck to the bank and never be bad again.
Within the hour, my hand had found my cock and my mind filled with visions of Mom, blindfolded, waving her ass under my nose, begging to be taken.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I had been sitting in place for almost an hour before Mrs. Omed came to the back, got her coat, and returned into the store. I heard her saying goodbye to 'Mr. Horlock'.
Obviously, others were still in the store. Several more goodnights followed before the outer lights dimmed. Shit, they were all going home. I had hoped to see another session between Dad and Mrs. Omed. I thought maybe she might give him her ass tonight but she had been the first one to leave.
Footsteps and voices approached. The domineering was my father, the pleading one I didn't recognize. Dad burst through the curtain and strode into his office, followed by a woman in maybe her late twenties. She was blonde, slim and attractive.
"Please, Mr. Horlock. I need this job."
Dad had seated himself and was looking at some papers on his desk. He waved off-handedly at the young woman to signal he didn't want to hear anymore.
"I don't know why Mrs. Omed said that. I sometimes forget about the accessories but I know I can do better. I can sell more. Please, Mr. Horlock, my little boy..."
Ahhh, it was one of the single moms. Dad swiveled around in his chair.
"What about your son?"
The woman looked crestfallen, visibly shrinking in front of my father.
"He's in little league now and I won't be able to afford, I mean, if I lose my job, how will I be able to pay..."
Dad stood up.
"All right now."
He put his arms around the sobbing woman and pulled her close, patting her on the back.
"Nobody's going to lose their job...yet."
The sniffling woman pulled her head back to look at my father.
"No?"
Dad pulled her close again. "No," he said, patting her back.
The woman sobbed, then spread her arms and curled them around Dad in a big hug.
"Oh, Mr. Horlock, you don't know how..."
Her voice abruptly cut off as Dad's hands slid down from her shoulder blades to her waist and then farther, onto her supple buttocks.
"Mr. Horlock?"
"There, there. We'll give you another chance."
Dad's hands clutched the woman's cheeks.
"Mr. Horlock..."
Dad released the woman and sat down in his chair. He took her hands in his.
"Look, I know how important it is to provide a good home for your son, maybe even buy him extra things, so if your performance improves..."
Dad paused, looking up at the woman.
"Here, come down here where we can see each other eye to eye."
Dad pulled on the woman's hands and she fell to her knees on the carpet in front of him.
"That's better. Now, where was I? Oh yes. If your performance improves to the point that I'm satisfied with it, you can keep your job, and I'll even give you a little raise."
Dad's hands slid up the outside of the woman's arms and onto her shoulders, then back down but this time he pushed them under her arms and held her sides, by her breasts.
"Mr. Horlock..."
"We'll even start you off with a little bonus."
Dad's hands moved down to the woman's waist, the back up along her sides.
"Mr. Horlock, I..."
"That's much better than losing your job tonight, isn't it?"
The woman didn't answer. Dad moved his hands again, this time more slowly and suggestively, palms pressing in against the side of her breasts.
"Isn't it?" he asked.
The woman said something but I couldn't hear.
"What's that?" Dad's voice was more confident, demanding.
"Yes," the woman replied meekly.
"Of course it is," Dad said benevolently, moving his hands to the front of the woman's dress.
She looked down and to the side while Dad rubbed his palms on the front of her dress. Despite the forward cant of her head, her blonde hair was long enough to remain hanging over her shoulder. Still, with her head to the side, I could see that she was pale with fine features, a delicate woman. She suddenly stiffened and I knew that Dad, keeping his palm pressed against the front of the dress, had closed his fingers to take in the full form of her breasts.
"Everything will be fine, Jennifer, you'll see."
Evidently satisfied with the way things were going and confident about where they were headed, Dad released Jennifer's breasts and slid his hands around to the back of her neck. He fumbled with the hook for a few seconds and then slid the zipper down the back of her dress. Jennifer shivered as her back was exposed but didn't interfere.
"You're such a pretty girl. It's a shame your husband was such a deadbeat, it really is, but you're better off without him. Things don't have to be so hard on you, you know, you don't have to do it all on your own."
While he was talking in his slithery voice, Dad unsnapped the back of Jennifer's bra and pushed its straps and the dress down her arms to her elbows. She was very slender. He sat back and looked at the woman, who was still kneeling before him, face turned down and to her left, as if ashamed of her exposure and that she was allowing it to happen.
"That's better. I'm sure things will start looking up from now on," Dad smiled.
He put his finger under Jennifer's chin, lifted her face and turned it toward him.
"Things are going to get better, aren't they?"
"Yes," Jennifer mumbled.
"Of course they are."
Dad took Jennifer's right hand and placed it on his pants, directly on the noticeable bulge there.
"Let's see what kind of bonus you're worth, shall we?"
Jennifer didn't move.
"Well, get on with it."
Jennifer jerked and pulled her hand away to cover her mouth, stifling a sob.
"Enough of that," Dad barked. He unzipped his pants and pulled her hand back, stuffing it inside his zipper. "That's it, don't be afraid. Just wiggle your fingers a little."
I couldn't see if Jennifer complied with his demand because her head was in the way.
"Wiggle them!"
"Yeah, that's it. See what you can do. He really likes it. Look how you've made him grow. Oh yeah, I can see you've got a talent for this. Ahhhhh, shit yeah."
Jennifer moved her head and, from my vantage point in the loft above and slightly to the left behind Jennifer, I could now see her fingers moving inside Dad's pants.
"You want to see it, don't you?"
Dad didn't wait for an answer.
"Take it out. Go ahead, you can look at it if you want."
Jennifer shook her head.
"Take it out!"
Jennifer fumbled in Dad's pants for a few seconds but finally managed to pull his cock out.
"There you go. Bet your loser husband didn't have one like that, did he?"
Jennifer shook her head. Dad might be a braggart but he did have a decent sized cock. It pleased me to be a recipient of my father's genes and, as disgusting as this scene was, I was fascinated by it and my father's unrepentant exercise of power.
"Jack it," Dad commanded.
Jennifer curled her delicate fingers around Dad's shaft and hesitantly stroked it up and down.
"Grip it harder."
"Move your hand all the way up and down."
"Right over the head. That's it. Squeeze it. Ahhhh, yeah. Keep doing it like that."
Jennifer moved her hand up and down and Dad leaned back to enjoy it. After a while, he leaned forward and pawed her breasts. I could see his right hand cupping her left breast.
"You're not very big. I bet you had nothing before you had a kid but they're not too bad now. A little slopey, but you got nice nipples."
He pinched her nipple and pulled her tit away from her chest.
"Do you like that?"
Jennifer shook her head but her hand never stopped moving.
"You know what they say about women with small tits?"
Jennifer shook her head again.
"They're good cocksuckers," Dad laughed loudly. He stopped laughing abruptly. "Are you a good cocksucker Jennifer?"
She shook her head.
"You mean to tell me that deadbeat husband of yours never made you suck his cock?"
Jennifer shook his head.
"What a wiener," Dad laughed but abruptly became serious. "Get on it."
Jennifer looked up at him.
"Come on, enough with the hand. Put your mouth on it."
Jennifer kept looking up at Dad, unmoving, like a deer caught in head lights.
"Come on," Dad urged, displacing her hand on his cock with his own and placing the other on top of her head.
He pulled her head forward and fed his cock into her mouth. Jennifer sputtered and Dad pulled his cock back.
"Too big?" Dad laughed. "That's okay, you'll get used to it."
He jammed it back into Jennifer's mouth but when she sputtered again he ignored her, knotted his fingers in the hair on top of her head and pulled her onto his cock. He didn't stop until Jennifer choked and yanked her head back, gagging. Dad laughed and as soon as she stopped coughing, he jammed his cock back into her face.
"Deeper, come on, you can do it."
Jennifer tried to grab Dad's cock but he batted her hands away.
"Okay, we'll work it in slowly."
Dad grabbed both sides of Jennifer's head and started flexing his hips, fucking into her face. She kept trying to pull her head back but couldn't. Dad kept up a steady rhythm but didn't go too deep and after a while until Jennifer seemed to relax. I guess she had learned to handle the assault, the brutal invasion of my father's meat in her mouth. When she was taking his cock easily, he started pulling on her head and shoving it in deeper. Every few thrusts, Dad pulled out and let Jennifer clear her throat, but shoved his meat back into her mouth quicker each time.
I was amazed by how quickly Jennifer adapted to Dad's cock plunging deep into her mouth. At first, she had barely been able to take his head in but now Dad was pulling her face all the way down to his balls and holding it there for a few seconds before releasing her and letting her head pop off his cock and then, right away, pulling her back onto it.
This went on for a while and I wondered when Dad was going to stand up and bend Jennifer over the desk like did to Mrs. Omed but when he started breathing harder and harder, I knew he wasn't going to. He was going to unload on her face, the way Mrs. Omed wouldn't let him. Sure enough, Dad suddenly held Jennifer's head firmly in place and thrust frantically in her face. He was gasping and moaning really loud. He stood up in a half crouch and continued plunging into Jennifer's upturned face.
Then he was yelling, making weird, primeval sounds, coming in her mouth, grabbing his cock and pulling it out, steering it around her face, covering her with his spunk. Only when the last drop dripped off his cock did he release her hair.
"Lick it clean," he commanded.
Jennifer dutifully took Dad's cock back into her mouth and sucked until he pulled it out, satisfied. He turned around, grabbed the roll of shop towels, tore off several sheets, and threw them at her.
"Clean yourself up."
He stuffed his cock away and zipped up. Jennifer had stood and was getting some more shop towels, her dress sliding unnoticed over her slim hips and down her legs to the floor, revealing a pair of cheap cotton panties barely covering a nice, tight little butt. Dad admired her pear-like cheeks and patted the right one.
"I was right. You're a great little cocksucker, Jennifer, and you've got a nice little ass to boot. Too bad you wore me out with your mouth. Look, here's a hundred for you and another to get some extra babysitting for your kid. I want to see you tomorrow, no, make that Thursday. I'll have a talk with Mrs. Omed tomorrow to straighten her out and let her know about your raise. Now, go pick out some nice under things from the store for yourself, and maybe a dress or two. Nothing too expensive, mind you."
Dad stuffed the bills into Jennifer's hand.
"Don't worry kid. You got a job here for life it you keep that up." He looked down her front. "And don't forget the panties. Those things don't do justice to what you got under there."
Jennifer stooped to pick up her dress and pulled it up. She zipped up without putting the bra on, holding it in her hand with the money.
"Listen, honey. If you start having second thoughts, think about your kid and how you'll get another job if I spread the word that you're a little thief."
Jennifer looked indignant and started to protest but was stopped by Dad's sneering smile.
"It's a tough world, kid. Run along home now and don't be calling in sick tomorrow."
********
...to be continued
Update - 5
********
My father had always been a tough employer but I had never known he was a real bastard. I mean, he was a real heel, a miserable fucking cunt. But, look at the awesome sex he got. The thought of what he was going to get on Thursday made my cock throb. I had come in my pants again and now, after a long shower, sitting in my room, I was hard again.
Tomorrow, Dad would be busy with Mrs. Omed, and Thursday it would be Jennifer's turn again. I wanted to see that, but tomorrow, Mom would be waiting for Dad in the afternoon. Would he come? I had my doubts but I had to be sure. I called Jessica.
"Hey Jessica, how are you?"
"Yeah? That's great."
"No, I'm not coming back to work in the store. Dad and I still don't see eye to eye."
"Yeah, I know. Look, Mom's planning a surprise for him later this week. No, don't tell anyone at the store, but listen, can you let me know if he leaves tomorrow afternoon? She's getting stuff ready and doesn't want him to find out. You can? That's great. Yeah, I'll come down for a coffee soon."
"You too. Bye."
That was easy. Maybe I had more of Dad's genes than I thought.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"I'm going out Mom. See you after supper," I yelled.
Mom had dressed nicely again today and was super nice to Dad but he hadn't noticed. I got the feeling that Mom thought he was just putting on an act because she seemed more pleased the more he ignored her. He was such a prick yet women fawned over him. I bet within weeks that Jennifer wouldn't be moping about her situation. I bet she'd be leaning over Dad's desk, eager for a pounding from behind. Dad had a way about him.
I dropped the car off and hurried home. In my room, I set my phone so I would vibrate if Jessica called, then undressed quickly, this time leaving my shorts on the bed with the rest of my clothes. Kneeling down by the floor, I listened for Mom's telltale murmurs but all I could hear was the DVD playing in her room.
Excellent! Mom was already into it. I pushed the door open and crept stealthily down the hall, then peeked around the door jamb.
Mom wasn't there!
Shit! I looked down the hall, listening for sounds coming from downstairs. Nothing. I looked back into Mom's room and immediately jerked my head back because she was coming out of her bathroom, humming. I was about to sprint back to my room when I noticed her reflection in the mirrored closet doors with her back to me while she stood in front of the TV with the remote in her hand. She was changing the DVD.
Mom was wearing a sexy black camisole. While she waited for the DVD to start, she pushed the matching lacy black panties down her legs and kicked them off her feet. Man, the camisole only coming down to her waist really emphasized her ass! It was bigger than Jennifer's but firmer than Mrs. Omed's, and bare, completely bare.
I closed my eyes, trying to contain the excitement overcoming me. When I opened them, Mom was kneeling on the bed, placing a pillow in the middle. She pointed the remote and adjusted the sound, then leaned over the pillow to watch the porno flick on the TV.
I stood in the hallway for a long time, intently watching Mom's ass as she watched the TV with equal concern. The man on the TV was treating a woman about Mrs. Omed's age the same way Dad treated her and Jennifer. My cock surged as I realized that Mom must like the same kind of treatment.
Well, Dad wasn't coming, was he?
This isn't some woman working in the store, asshole. It's your mother.
Yeah, well, I wasn't going to do anything, not more than last time. I wasn't going to do her. All I wanted to do was finger her, maybe put my whole hand up there. She loved the full thickness of my fingers, right up to the knuckles, last time. That's all I was going to do, what she wanted, like I was performing a service she needed but couldn't get from her deadbeat husband who should be doing it for her. Just because he's an asshole doesn't mean she should go without. I mean, look how happy she'd been the last two days. I wanted to make Mom happy; I had been making her happy.
Whoa. Mom was getting up on her knees. I got ready to retreat to my room. Ahhh, no problem. She was just putting on the blindfold which, I saw now, was actually a sleeping mask. Great. My cock tingled. We were getting close and it was very eager to get started.
Mom leaned over the pillow and squiggled around, getting comfortable. Her legs opened and I saw her pussy with its pink slit running down the middle. Oh, fuck this was going to be great. The dildo appeared and Mom fumbled with it for a few seconds, slowly inserting it in her pussy. In a moment, it was in and Mom started slowly humping it. We were away!
I forced myself to stay in the hall. I wanted to rush in and play with her ass and pussy but knew I had to wait until she was really horny. It was a long time before I heard the first sigh, the slightest whimper, and then the titilating, "Mmmmmm."
It was incredibly hard to wait while those "Mmmmm's" grew in length and frequency but I did it and was proud of my stoicism. When I was about to enter, I had a brilliant idea. I should go downstairs and open and close the front door to make it sound like Dad had come home. I crept downstairs, cock bouncing all over the place, and did it, then returned. Coming up the stairs, I cursed myself for being stupid. What if Mom had got up to greet Dad? I had only seen her wait for him once. What if that wasn't routine?
Not too worry. When I peeked nervously into Mom's room, her ass was worshipping the dildo and her blindfolded head was focused intently on the TV. I approached the bed, stood waiting for a minute, then kneeled on the mattress. Again, I waited, knowing Mom was aware of my, or so she thought, Dad's, presence. Her ass had stopped humping the dildo and she was waiting.
I waited longer, controlling my breathing, and listening to Mom's. She pulled the dildo out of her pussy and let it fall on the bed. Her ass pushed up, beckoning, her pussy pouting a warm welcome, waiting for the Thor's hammer.
The anticipation in the room, on both our parts, was thick and heavy. Mom's pussy lips moved as if she was breathing through them. She really wanted it, wanted my fingers, needed my hand. She was so fucking horny. Her thighs parted a fraction of an inch, opening her lips, moistly begging for my hand, my fingers, anything.
I kneeled closer, reached for Mom's hands and crossed them behind her back, holding both slender wrists in my left hand. I lowered my right and lined it up between her thighs, being careful not to touch her legs, but I could tell she knew what was coming. Inch by inch, my fingers approached Mom's slit. When they were almost there, I flicked the tip of my longest finger to brush Mom's lips and she flinched, moaning. I teased her like that, adding a vertical exploration of her slit, for several minutes. When not relishing my power, I was mesmerized by the sight of her twitching ass, quivering thighs, and trembling pussy lips. I felt in total control.
With all that preparation I still took her by complete surprise when I plunged my fingers in deep. Mom yowled in delight and gasped and moaned constantly as I frigged her madly, jamming my fingers in her cunt hard and fast. She didn't know what hit her but she rode it like the wind. Abruptly, I stopped, and pulled my dripping fingers out.
Oh, what a forlorn wail. It pulled my heartstrings and I almost relented, my fingers moving back toward her lips I pulled them away. I waited again, hovering near. Soon, my fingertips grazed up the inside of Mom's thighs but skirted around her throbbing pussy and moved instead up onto her ass. I feathered all around her cheeks for several minutes before exploring her crack and then left her alone, even pulling my hand away from her wrists.
Mom could only know I was still there by my weight on the bed.
Suddenly, I grabbed her ass cheeks and pulled them apart, then spit on the crinkly, penny-sized hole. Quickly, I squeezed her cheeks and rubbed them together, pulled them apart, spit again, then pinched them together for another rub. Releasing her cheeks, I dug my left thumb in and ran it up and down her crack, pausing to let it nudge into the little depression holding most of my spit.
When I looked at a girl's ass, I just liked the look of it. I had no idea what the attraction was other than that but Dad had put ideas in my head. Why did he want to fuck Mrs. Omed's ass? Did he have gay tendencies, and what about me? I had to admit, the idea was beginning to appeal to me, but not with Mom. I couldn't do it with my own mother, but what about Mrs. Omed, or better, that lovely little set of pears on Jennifer?
My fingers found Mom's pussy and pushed inside. First two, then three, and finally four. It took quite a while but eventually I squeezed my whole hand in, past the third set of knuckles, and slowly twisted it around and moved it back and forth. Mom was loving it. I leaned close over her ass and licked her crack. Mom tossed her ass around wildly. I licked her crack again, flicking the tip of my tongue all the way up. I had to lean on her to keep her close to the bed.
I tried to pull Mom's cheeks apart but couldn't with one hand so I pulled hers down, one at a time, and placed then on the sides of her cheeks. She got the idea and pulled them apart which let me spit on her crinkly asterisk and tease it with the tip of my tongue. It didn't taste horrible like I thought it would so I pressed the flat of my tongue against it and wiggled it, then flicked it again with the tip.
I played around like that some time and neglected the hand in Mom's pussy. No problem, she was fucking it, squirming her ass around on it, or was she trying to get more of my tongue. I pulled away and put my thumb on Mom's little bud, then pressed. Slowly, it popped inside. Mom went absolutely still but when I pushed my thumb in to the hilt, she started wriggling around on it like mad. It was all I could do to keep my thumb plugged in her ass and my fist in her cunt. She was breathing so hard her lungs hoarsely gulped for air. It was a relief when she came, going rigid, clenching her butt cheeks and clamping her thighs around my hand, bucking so hard and fast I thought she was going catatonic.
I let Mom's orgasm dissipate while her breathing returned to normal. The only thing I did, as a minor distraction, was to drool more spit along the crack of her ass. She didn't seem to mind. Last time, I had rubbed my cock through her cheeks and come on her ass. I'm sure Mom thought I was preparing to do the same, and so did I. After all, what good would my cock do inside her after reaming it out with my whole hand?
I pushed her legs together and grabbed her hands, holding them behind her while I nudged my cock into her crack and started sliding it through her cheeks. Bless her heart, Mom moved her ass against my cock, rubbing her crack along the length of my shaft, or Dad's shaft, as she thought. It was my turn.
I had only been rubbing for a few minutes, which wasn't bad given how short my last sojourn had been, when Mom wriggled her right hand free of my grip and grabbed my cock. To my surprise, she angled it down. Frightened, I pulled back. If she brought it to her pussy lips, I didn't know if I could stop myself.
What the hell? What was wrong with a little taste. In my current state, if Mom pressed my tip against her pussy, I would come instantly. I let her pull my cock forward and barely resisted when she pulled the head into her slit. Mom surprised me again when rubbed my tip around and then pulled my cock out, redirected it higher and settled it on her cheeks again. However, instead of slipping the shaft through her crack, she kept my cock pointed down and pulled it along until the tip nudged the pretty little asterisk I had kissed before.
Oh my God, she wanted it in the ass.
How could I refuse? Wouldn't Dad do it? Of course he would; how could he turn down such a gift? I was trapped, but I was hardly unhappy about it. It wasn't really sex, I told myself. I wasn't putting it in my mother's pussy. It was just her ass. Didn't couples in those eastern countries do it that way before they were married? Of course it's okay.
No Rob, it isn't!
Fuck my conscience. It was faint anyway. I pushed, met resistance, leaned over and drooled onto my cock and watched it ooze down the shaft and between Mom's cheeks, onto that pretty little rosebud. I pushed, was thrilled when Mom's cheeks parted, widened, my helmet filling the reluctant little hole. Mom groaned but I kept pushing, it was going in, push harder, moving forward, so tight, so fucking tight. Plop, it was in. Mom twisted her head around, moaning, her hand pressing against my thigh. Yes, go slow. I understood.
Was this Mom's first time?
I waited, holding my cock just inside Mom's butt. And waited. She twitched her ass, then again, and again. She moved it, pushing back, forcing my cock deeper. I pushed in but her hand pressed against my thigh again. I held still until she started twisting around on my shaft again. I started moving in and out, real slow. Mom groaned and thrust her ass back on my hard cock. Oh yeah, this was going to be so good.
"Do you like it? I know you always wanted to, but does it feel good?"
I grunted for an answer and shoved in hard once, twice, three times.
"Unghhhh, unghhhh, ungnnnhhhh."
That was answer enough. Mom turned her face into the pillow and I started fucking her ass for real. My cock moved easily between her cheeks which fascinated me. I grabbed the pillow under Mom and yanked it out, then slowly increased my pace, holding myself up on braced arms while I watched her creamy buttocks bouncing between the mattress and my cock.
Soon, we were at a frantic pace and I was blown away that I wasn't yet ready to come. Abruptly, I stopped and smiled when Mom's ass kept working on my shaft, reaching up and pulling down, fucking me, forcing me to take her ass, moaning and groaning, desperate for me to continue. Absolute joy ripped through me.
I bent my elbows and lowered myself until I was lying along the length of Mom's body so she could hardly move, then pulled my cock out and slowly pushed it back in, deep, then ground it in her ass. Like before, I slowly built up my pace, but with glacial lunges deep into her ass. I licked her back between her shoulder blades, kissed her neck and nibbled on her ear, bit her shoulder, then pulled her head up and grunted in her ear while reveling in the guttural moan each thrust forced from her throat.
Once more, I took Mom up to a hammering pace, our bodies bouncing as one on the mattress, our groans intermingling and becoming lost in each other. When she started coming, when I started coming, I let her face fall into the bed and bit the nape of her neck again, grinding against her ass, filling it with my gooey spend.
I didn't move for a long time. I stayed on Mom's back, panting, my lips pressed into the join between her neck and shoulder while she breathed raggedly below me, her face turned once again toward the TV.
Mom didn't move when I got up. I didn't inch my way backward, ready to run, like I had before. I knew she wouldn't try to look. I kissed each cheek and the bottom of each foot, then strolled out of her bedroom.
I felt no remorse this time. I had fucked my mother's ass and, for the first time in a long time, I felt as if the world was as it should be. Mom was happy, I was happy, and I would be back for another afternooner and maybe even a night visit.
I didn't bother waiting to head Dad off at the pass. I knew he wouldn't come.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Mom was super attentive to Dad that night which irked me no end. It was I, not he, that deserved her appreciation. I sulked and had to suffer a comment or two from Mom about being sullen.
"There's lots to be happy about in the world, you know, lots to appreciate," she said.
That was rich coming from a depression Queen that owed her recent sparky return to life to my efforts. Nonetheless, I took it and made an effort to perk up. It wasn't that hard, looking at Mom. She had dressed nicely again, for Dad of course, but I still got to look at her and be around her new, cheery self. There wasn't a woman in the store that could hold a candle to her and yet my father couldn't see it. He didn't just take her for granted, he completely ignored her.
But I didn't. I complimented Mom on her hair. Although it still didn't even touch her neck, she had done it up in a cute cut. In fact, looking at her, I loved the way I could see all of her slender neck and bare shoulders. I hoped she wouldn't grow it long again the way it used to be. I wanted to see as much of her beautiful skin as I could. Dad liked long hair and I decided then to convince Mom to keep hers short.
Surprisingly, Dad didn't go back to the store that night, despite his commitment to discuss Jennifer's situation with Mrs. Omed. I wondered what was up.
The next day I hung around the house. I waited to see if Mom thought Dad was coming home that afternoon but she didn't say anything and after lunch she didn't make excuses for taking a nap like she'd done before. Instead, she went out in the yard to garden.
Dad didn't come home for dinner. The first I knew about it was when Mom put a plate in the oven to keep warm.
"Where's Dad?"
"He's working late again. He works so hard. I really think you should help him out at the store."
"Mom, he doesn't want my help. I just get in the way."
"That's not true. You're a good worker. Your father told me so himself."
"Yeah? What did he say?"
"He said...um...that you were a hard worker but he thought you should get some experience outside of the store. But your father works hard and I think he needs your help. He's just too proud to ask for it."
An idea struck me.
"Maybe I could go down on Thursday and Friday nights?"
"That would be a start."
"Maybe Tuesdays too."
"That's the spirit."
"And Saturday afternoons."
"Don't make fun of me, Robbie."
"I'm not. I'm serious. I'll start tonight since it's Thursday."
"It's too late tonight. Start tomorrow instead. Maybe you can give your father a break so he can get home for a later dinner before going back until closing time."
"Okay Mom, but I'll just run down to see how things are going tonight."
"If you insist, but eat up now before your dinner gets cold.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I sneaked back into the house after leaving that night, hopeful that Mom might get ready for another visit from Dad, but she was downstairs watching TV. Obviously, she didn't expect him home. I sat around, being quiet as a mouse, but soon got bored. I thought about Dad, and then Jennifer, which motivated me to get off my ass. I drove down to the store, got into the back loft in the usual spot, and waited.
Dad came in ten minutes before closing time and sat at his desk. People came in and said goodnight but Dad ignored them, supposedly consumed by paperwork. Mrs. Omed came in with the cash box, set it on the desk and stood behind Dad. He ignored her also until she placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm leaving now, Mr. Horlock," she said in a voice louder than her proximity required. "I've asked Jennifer to stay and lock up tonight."
She leaned close to Dad's ear and said something I couldn't hear. He dropped his pencil and turned around, saw that they were alone, and patted her on her behind.
"Good girl," he said in a confidential tone.
Mrs. Omed laughed softly. "Don't work too hard," she said, then turned and left, amusement filling her face.
The lights dimmed through the door and Jennifer parted the curtain a few seconds later. She was wearing a nice dress that looked new. It looked like the kind of thing sold in our store.
"Mr. Horlock? Everything's locked up."
Dad put on his ignoring act.
"I'll be on my way then."
Jennifer started to leave but Dad swiveled his chair around and the hope that briefly flashed on Jennifer's face faded.
"Wait. No, don't turn around. That's a nice dress, Jennifer. It looks good on you."
"Thank you, Mr. Horlock."
Jennifer took a tentative step forward but stopped when Dad spoke again.
"Did you arrange for your babysitter to stay longer?"
Jennifer sighed. "Yes, Mr. Horlock."
"That's good, that's very good. Come closer, girl. No, don't turn around, just back up. That's it...wait...just stand there for a minute."
I could see embarrassment and even shame on Jennifer's face as she stood in front of Dad, her back to him, as he surveyed her slender body. A strange mixture of sympathy and excitement flowed through me and my cock began to swell.
"A nice dress, that's for sure, but it looks kind of long for you. Pull it up a bit."
Jennifer didn't move.
"Put your hands on the sides and slide it up your legs."
Jennifer did as she was told this time, her face very red. She stopped when the dress was half way up her thighs but Dad urged her to pull it up higher. She stopped again when the hem was just below her ass.
"Pull it right up. Let's see what kind of panties you picked out."
Jennifer started to comply but then paused. Her face was red as a beet.
"Pull it up," Dad snapped.
Jennifer took a deep breath and slid the dress up over her hips until it bunched at her waist. I could see a nice pair of red lace panties. My cock bulged in my shorts so I loosened the top button and carefully parted the zipper.
"Yeah, those are nice. I didn't know we had such nice ones in the store. I'll have to commend Mrs. Omed. Speaking of her, I hope she's been nicer to you today."
Jennifer mumbled something.
"What's that? Speak up."
"Yes."
"Good, good. Back up. All the way back."
Dad's hands rose from the arms of his chair and disappeared behind Jennifer. I could tell from her face he was touching her panties and then massaging her cheeks as she lurched forward a bit. Dad reached between Jennifer's legs to catch her, his fingers folding around to cup the front of her panties.
"Yeah, nice, real nice."
Dad 's hands returned to his lap and undid his belt. He parted his trousers and pulled his cock, already hard, out of his underwear.
"Pull them down."
"What?"
"Pull them down. They belong to me, not you."
Reluctantly, Jennifer pushed the red panties down until her ass was exposed. The panties stretched across her thighs, exposing a nice patch of pubic hair that was darker than the hair on her head but still blonde. Dad reached behind him and grabbed a small plastic squeeze bottle from the top of his desk and squirted an oily liquid on his cock. As he rubbed it in with one hand, he reached out with the other to poke at the bottom of Jennifer's ass.
"You'll need to trim that bush for me. Come closer."
Jennifer backed up but she could only go a half step before unexpectedly banging into Dad's chair. She lost her balance but Dad caught her, his hands grasping her waist under the dress.
"Can you feel that?" he asked.
Jennifer didn't answer. Her hands were trying to find the arms of Dad's chair so she could push herself back up but Dad held her firmly in place.
"I knew you'd be a little dry the first time," he said, "but next time you won't be, I promise."
Jennifer struggled but Dad steered her onto his cock. Her mouth opened the moment he began to penetrate her.
"Yeah, you're not used to that, are you?"
Jennifer's mouth remained open as Dad pulled her down until she was nestled in his lap.
"Do you like a big one, little girl? Huh?"
Dad was already moving inside her and Jennifer's face twisted in and out of several emotions as she tried to accommodate his big cock.
"Oh yeah. She likes that, doesn't she?" he talked to himself for her benefit.
Jennifer, slight as she was, was easily bounced up and down on Dad's lap as he both thrust and pulled her down on his meat.
"Oh yeah, we've got a convert now, don't we?"
Dad's hands slipped off of Jennifer's waist and grabbed her hands. Leaning forward, he half dumped her onto the floor but kept her from falling completely off the chair. Despite her awkward and uncomfortable position, he began fucking her hard, causing her whole upper body to flap around above the floor. I couldn't see the look on Jennifer's face because her long hair had fallen over her head.
Dad was banging her so hard Jennifer's head came into contact with the floor despite the firm grip me maintained on her arms, stretched behind her back. Seeing this, he leaned further forward and started banging her even harder, forcing her forehead to skid across the plastic carpet protector.
"It really fills a skinny little thing like you, doesn't it?"
Dad stood up and pulled Jennifer's head off the floor but kept her doubled over. He arched his back and wiggled his hips from side to side, digging his cock as deep as her could into Jennifer's cunt. Leaning over her, he grasped a handful of her hair and tugged her head up, then started fucking her hard again.
"Do you like that? Huh? Huh?"
Jennifer was too far gone to answer. I had thought she might be in pain, that she was struggling to bear this gross assault, but her face, exposed when Dad pulled her head up, was consumed with raw ecstasy. I was stunned. She did like it. In fact, from the look on her face, twisted up like it was with her mouth wide open, she absolutely loved it, I guessed because she hadn't had a big cock before and it really must feel different.
Dad stopped suddenly and spun Jennifer around to face the desk, his pants sliding down and puddling around his ankles. He pushed her onto the chair on her knees until the chair leaned back toward the desk. When it went over far enough, the legs kicked out and the chair started to skid out from the desk. Jennifer cried out but the chair quickly stopped. Dad had tied it to the inner legs of the desk, just inside each set of drawers, halting its fall.
Jennifer was now on her knees, leaning over the back of the chair and pushed half over the desk. Dad straddled the chair and stepped up behind Jennifer, put his hand around the back of her neck, and pushed her head onto the desk. As her ass lifted, Dad ducked, used his cock to scout for her hole, and shoved it in. Jennifer tried to lift her head but couldn't.
A very steady fuck followed. If any cops were on the beat walking the alley, they would have knocked on the front door to see what was going on. But there were no interruptions. Dad's pelvis noisily slapped against Jennifer's ass, adding to the din. My hand found my own cock and started stroking it in time with Dad's thrusts and Jennifer's moans. Yes, she was actually moaning. About half way through the pounding, she became quite vocal.
When Dad increased the fury of his attack, grabbing Jennifer's hair and pulling her up until her back was arched and her neck kinked with each forward lunge, she got even louder. She was loving it and it seemed clear that Jennifer had never been fucked like this, fucked hard and well. When Dad released her hair and grabbed her waist to hold her cunt in place for the final ravaging, Jennifer braced her hands on the desk and kept her torso lifted with her head thrown back.
When she came, you would have thought an animal was being gutted, it was so primordial. She slumped over but Dad lifted her and, with her body still perched on his cock, backed away from the chair and set her down on her feet. As soon as he turned her around she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist. Grasping her under the thighs, Dad lifted Jennifer and she squirmed around until she found and slid down over his cock, impaling herself.
"Ahhh Jenny, you're a good girl. Did you like that?"
Jennifer's head, buried in the nape of Dad's neck, nodded.
"If I was a younger man, I'd give you another go, but you'll have to wait lassie."
Dad reached around to cup Jennifer's ass. Immediately thereafter her head jerked up, mouth open in a silent wail.
"It's okay darlin', it's just a little finger is all. Nothing to worry about."
Dad's wrist wriggled and I knew he'd stuck a finger in Jennifer's ass.
"Just something to think about for next time," Dad said.
Jennifer buried her head back in Dad's shoulder and shook it. She said something but I couldn't make it out.
Dad laughed.
"Well, you probably didn't think getting fucked was going to be any fun either."
Jennifer mumbled again.
"Too big?" Dad laughed again. "You'd be surprised what you can take in there. Don't worry about it now. I wouldn't hurt you."
Dad lifted Jennifer off his cock and set her down on the floor.
"Go pick out a new dress for yourself."
Jennifer started to pick up her clothes but Dad stopped her.
"In the nude girl. I want to see you wandering out there butt-naked."
Jennifer scooted out of the office and into the store and Dad followed after pulling his pants up.
********
...to be continued
********
My father had always been a tough employer but I had never known he was a real bastard. I mean, he was a real heel, a miserable fucking cunt. But, look at the awesome sex he got. The thought of what he was going to get on Thursday made my cock throb. I had come in my pants again and now, after a long shower, sitting in my room, I was hard again.
Tomorrow, Dad would be busy with Mrs. Omed, and Thursday it would be Jennifer's turn again. I wanted to see that, but tomorrow, Mom would be waiting for Dad in the afternoon. Would he come? I had my doubts but I had to be sure. I called Jessica.
"Hey Jessica, how are you?"
"Yeah? That's great."
"No, I'm not coming back to work in the store. Dad and I still don't see eye to eye."
"Yeah, I know. Look, Mom's planning a surprise for him later this week. No, don't tell anyone at the store, but listen, can you let me know if he leaves tomorrow afternoon? She's getting stuff ready and doesn't want him to find out. You can? That's great. Yeah, I'll come down for a coffee soon."
"You too. Bye."
That was easy. Maybe I had more of Dad's genes than I thought.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"I'm going out Mom. See you after supper," I yelled.
Mom had dressed nicely again today and was super nice to Dad but he hadn't noticed. I got the feeling that Mom thought he was just putting on an act because she seemed more pleased the more he ignored her. He was such a prick yet women fawned over him. I bet within weeks that Jennifer wouldn't be moping about her situation. I bet she'd be leaning over Dad's desk, eager for a pounding from behind. Dad had a way about him.
I dropped the car off and hurried home. In my room, I set my phone so I would vibrate if Jessica called, then undressed quickly, this time leaving my shorts on the bed with the rest of my clothes. Kneeling down by the floor, I listened for Mom's telltale murmurs but all I could hear was the DVD playing in her room.
Excellent! Mom was already into it. I pushed the door open and crept stealthily down the hall, then peeked around the door jamb.
Mom wasn't there!
Shit! I looked down the hall, listening for sounds coming from downstairs. Nothing. I looked back into Mom's room and immediately jerked my head back because she was coming out of her bathroom, humming. I was about to sprint back to my room when I noticed her reflection in the mirrored closet doors with her back to me while she stood in front of the TV with the remote in her hand. She was changing the DVD.
Mom was wearing a sexy black camisole. While she waited for the DVD to start, she pushed the matching lacy black panties down her legs and kicked them off her feet. Man, the camisole only coming down to her waist really emphasized her ass! It was bigger than Jennifer's but firmer than Mrs. Omed's, and bare, completely bare.
I closed my eyes, trying to contain the excitement overcoming me. When I opened them, Mom was kneeling on the bed, placing a pillow in the middle. She pointed the remote and adjusted the sound, then leaned over the pillow to watch the porno flick on the TV.
I stood in the hallway for a long time, intently watching Mom's ass as she watched the TV with equal concern. The man on the TV was treating a woman about Mrs. Omed's age the same way Dad treated her and Jennifer. My cock surged as I realized that Mom must like the same kind of treatment.
Well, Dad wasn't coming, was he?
This isn't some woman working in the store, asshole. It's your mother.
Yeah, well, I wasn't going to do anything, not more than last time. I wasn't going to do her. All I wanted to do was finger her, maybe put my whole hand up there. She loved the full thickness of my fingers, right up to the knuckles, last time. That's all I was going to do, what she wanted, like I was performing a service she needed but couldn't get from her deadbeat husband who should be doing it for her. Just because he's an asshole doesn't mean she should go without. I mean, look how happy she'd been the last two days. I wanted to make Mom happy; I had been making her happy.
Whoa. Mom was getting up on her knees. I got ready to retreat to my room. Ahhh, no problem. She was just putting on the blindfold which, I saw now, was actually a sleeping mask. Great. My cock tingled. We were getting close and it was very eager to get started.
Mom leaned over the pillow and squiggled around, getting comfortable. Her legs opened and I saw her pussy with its pink slit running down the middle. Oh, fuck this was going to be great. The dildo appeared and Mom fumbled with it for a few seconds, slowly inserting it in her pussy. In a moment, it was in and Mom started slowly humping it. We were away!
I forced myself to stay in the hall. I wanted to rush in and play with her ass and pussy but knew I had to wait until she was really horny. It was a long time before I heard the first sigh, the slightest whimper, and then the titilating, "Mmmmmm."
It was incredibly hard to wait while those "Mmmmm's" grew in length and frequency but I did it and was proud of my stoicism. When I was about to enter, I had a brilliant idea. I should go downstairs and open and close the front door to make it sound like Dad had come home. I crept downstairs, cock bouncing all over the place, and did it, then returned. Coming up the stairs, I cursed myself for being stupid. What if Mom had got up to greet Dad? I had only seen her wait for him once. What if that wasn't routine?
Not too worry. When I peeked nervously into Mom's room, her ass was worshipping the dildo and her blindfolded head was focused intently on the TV. I approached the bed, stood waiting for a minute, then kneeled on the mattress. Again, I waited, knowing Mom was aware of my, or so she thought, Dad's, presence. Her ass had stopped humping the dildo and she was waiting.
I waited longer, controlling my breathing, and listening to Mom's. She pulled the dildo out of her pussy and let it fall on the bed. Her ass pushed up, beckoning, her pussy pouting a warm welcome, waiting for the Thor's hammer.
The anticipation in the room, on both our parts, was thick and heavy. Mom's pussy lips moved as if she was breathing through them. She really wanted it, wanted my fingers, needed my hand. She was so fucking horny. Her thighs parted a fraction of an inch, opening her lips, moistly begging for my hand, my fingers, anything.
I kneeled closer, reached for Mom's hands and crossed them behind her back, holding both slender wrists in my left hand. I lowered my right and lined it up between her thighs, being careful not to touch her legs, but I could tell she knew what was coming. Inch by inch, my fingers approached Mom's slit. When they were almost there, I flicked the tip of my longest finger to brush Mom's lips and she flinched, moaning. I teased her like that, adding a vertical exploration of her slit, for several minutes. When not relishing my power, I was mesmerized by the sight of her twitching ass, quivering thighs, and trembling pussy lips. I felt in total control.
With all that preparation I still took her by complete surprise when I plunged my fingers in deep. Mom yowled in delight and gasped and moaned constantly as I frigged her madly, jamming my fingers in her cunt hard and fast. She didn't know what hit her but she rode it like the wind. Abruptly, I stopped, and pulled my dripping fingers out.
Oh, what a forlorn wail. It pulled my heartstrings and I almost relented, my fingers moving back toward her lips I pulled them away. I waited again, hovering near. Soon, my fingertips grazed up the inside of Mom's thighs but skirted around her throbbing pussy and moved instead up onto her ass. I feathered all around her cheeks for several minutes before exploring her crack and then left her alone, even pulling my hand away from her wrists.
Mom could only know I was still there by my weight on the bed.
Suddenly, I grabbed her ass cheeks and pulled them apart, then spit on the crinkly, penny-sized hole. Quickly, I squeezed her cheeks and rubbed them together, pulled them apart, spit again, then pinched them together for another rub. Releasing her cheeks, I dug my left thumb in and ran it up and down her crack, pausing to let it nudge into the little depression holding most of my spit.
When I looked at a girl's ass, I just liked the look of it. I had no idea what the attraction was other than that but Dad had put ideas in my head. Why did he want to fuck Mrs. Omed's ass? Did he have gay tendencies, and what about me? I had to admit, the idea was beginning to appeal to me, but not with Mom. I couldn't do it with my own mother, but what about Mrs. Omed, or better, that lovely little set of pears on Jennifer?
My fingers found Mom's pussy and pushed inside. First two, then three, and finally four. It took quite a while but eventually I squeezed my whole hand in, past the third set of knuckles, and slowly twisted it around and moved it back and forth. Mom was loving it. I leaned close over her ass and licked her crack. Mom tossed her ass around wildly. I licked her crack again, flicking the tip of my tongue all the way up. I had to lean on her to keep her close to the bed.
I tried to pull Mom's cheeks apart but couldn't with one hand so I pulled hers down, one at a time, and placed then on the sides of her cheeks. She got the idea and pulled them apart which let me spit on her crinkly asterisk and tease it with the tip of my tongue. It didn't taste horrible like I thought it would so I pressed the flat of my tongue against it and wiggled it, then flicked it again with the tip.
I played around like that some time and neglected the hand in Mom's pussy. No problem, she was fucking it, squirming her ass around on it, or was she trying to get more of my tongue. I pulled away and put my thumb on Mom's little bud, then pressed. Slowly, it popped inside. Mom went absolutely still but when I pushed my thumb in to the hilt, she started wriggling around on it like mad. It was all I could do to keep my thumb plugged in her ass and my fist in her cunt. She was breathing so hard her lungs hoarsely gulped for air. It was a relief when she came, going rigid, clenching her butt cheeks and clamping her thighs around my hand, bucking so hard and fast I thought she was going catatonic.
I let Mom's orgasm dissipate while her breathing returned to normal. The only thing I did, as a minor distraction, was to drool more spit along the crack of her ass. She didn't seem to mind. Last time, I had rubbed my cock through her cheeks and come on her ass. I'm sure Mom thought I was preparing to do the same, and so did I. After all, what good would my cock do inside her after reaming it out with my whole hand?
I pushed her legs together and grabbed her hands, holding them behind her while I nudged my cock into her crack and started sliding it through her cheeks. Bless her heart, Mom moved her ass against my cock, rubbing her crack along the length of my shaft, or Dad's shaft, as she thought. It was my turn.
I had only been rubbing for a few minutes, which wasn't bad given how short my last sojourn had been, when Mom wriggled her right hand free of my grip and grabbed my cock. To my surprise, she angled it down. Frightened, I pulled back. If she brought it to her pussy lips, I didn't know if I could stop myself.
What the hell? What was wrong with a little taste. In my current state, if Mom pressed my tip against her pussy, I would come instantly. I let her pull my cock forward and barely resisted when she pulled the head into her slit. Mom surprised me again when rubbed my tip around and then pulled my cock out, redirected it higher and settled it on her cheeks again. However, instead of slipping the shaft through her crack, she kept my cock pointed down and pulled it along until the tip nudged the pretty little asterisk I had kissed before.
Oh my God, she wanted it in the ass.
How could I refuse? Wouldn't Dad do it? Of course he would; how could he turn down such a gift? I was trapped, but I was hardly unhappy about it. It wasn't really sex, I told myself. I wasn't putting it in my mother's pussy. It was just her ass. Didn't couples in those eastern countries do it that way before they were married? Of course it's okay.
No Rob, it isn't!
Fuck my conscience. It was faint anyway. I pushed, met resistance, leaned over and drooled onto my cock and watched it ooze down the shaft and between Mom's cheeks, onto that pretty little rosebud. I pushed, was thrilled when Mom's cheeks parted, widened, my helmet filling the reluctant little hole. Mom groaned but I kept pushing, it was going in, push harder, moving forward, so tight, so fucking tight. Plop, it was in. Mom twisted her head around, moaning, her hand pressing against my thigh. Yes, go slow. I understood.
Was this Mom's first time?
I waited, holding my cock just inside Mom's butt. And waited. She twitched her ass, then again, and again. She moved it, pushing back, forcing my cock deeper. I pushed in but her hand pressed against my thigh again. I held still until she started twisting around on my shaft again. I started moving in and out, real slow. Mom groaned and thrust her ass back on my hard cock. Oh yeah, this was going to be so good.
"Do you like it? I know you always wanted to, but does it feel good?"
I grunted for an answer and shoved in hard once, twice, three times.
"Unghhhh, unghhhh, ungnnnhhhh."
That was answer enough. Mom turned her face into the pillow and I started fucking her ass for real. My cock moved easily between her cheeks which fascinated me. I grabbed the pillow under Mom and yanked it out, then slowly increased my pace, holding myself up on braced arms while I watched her creamy buttocks bouncing between the mattress and my cock.
Soon, we were at a frantic pace and I was blown away that I wasn't yet ready to come. Abruptly, I stopped and smiled when Mom's ass kept working on my shaft, reaching up and pulling down, fucking me, forcing me to take her ass, moaning and groaning, desperate for me to continue. Absolute joy ripped through me.
I bent my elbows and lowered myself until I was lying along the length of Mom's body so she could hardly move, then pulled my cock out and slowly pushed it back in, deep, then ground it in her ass. Like before, I slowly built up my pace, but with glacial lunges deep into her ass. I licked her back between her shoulder blades, kissed her neck and nibbled on her ear, bit her shoulder, then pulled her head up and grunted in her ear while reveling in the guttural moan each thrust forced from her throat.
Once more, I took Mom up to a hammering pace, our bodies bouncing as one on the mattress, our groans intermingling and becoming lost in each other. When she started coming, when I started coming, I let her face fall into the bed and bit the nape of her neck again, grinding against her ass, filling it with my gooey spend.
I didn't move for a long time. I stayed on Mom's back, panting, my lips pressed into the join between her neck and shoulder while she breathed raggedly below me, her face turned once again toward the TV.
Mom didn't move when I got up. I didn't inch my way backward, ready to run, like I had before. I knew she wouldn't try to look. I kissed each cheek and the bottom of each foot, then strolled out of her bedroom.
I felt no remorse this time. I had fucked my mother's ass and, for the first time in a long time, I felt as if the world was as it should be. Mom was happy, I was happy, and I would be back for another afternooner and maybe even a night visit.
I didn't bother waiting to head Dad off at the pass. I knew he wouldn't come.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Mom was super attentive to Dad that night which irked me no end. It was I, not he, that deserved her appreciation. I sulked and had to suffer a comment or two from Mom about being sullen.
"There's lots to be happy about in the world, you know, lots to appreciate," she said.
That was rich coming from a depression Queen that owed her recent sparky return to life to my efforts. Nonetheless, I took it and made an effort to perk up. It wasn't that hard, looking at Mom. She had dressed nicely again, for Dad of course, but I still got to look at her and be around her new, cheery self. There wasn't a woman in the store that could hold a candle to her and yet my father couldn't see it. He didn't just take her for granted, he completely ignored her.
But I didn't. I complimented Mom on her hair. Although it still didn't even touch her neck, she had done it up in a cute cut. In fact, looking at her, I loved the way I could see all of her slender neck and bare shoulders. I hoped she wouldn't grow it long again the way it used to be. I wanted to see as much of her beautiful skin as I could. Dad liked long hair and I decided then to convince Mom to keep hers short.
Surprisingly, Dad didn't go back to the store that night, despite his commitment to discuss Jennifer's situation with Mrs. Omed. I wondered what was up.
The next day I hung around the house. I waited to see if Mom thought Dad was coming home that afternoon but she didn't say anything and after lunch she didn't make excuses for taking a nap like she'd done before. Instead, she went out in the yard to garden.
Dad didn't come home for dinner. The first I knew about it was when Mom put a plate in the oven to keep warm.
"Where's Dad?"
"He's working late again. He works so hard. I really think you should help him out at the store."
"Mom, he doesn't want my help. I just get in the way."
"That's not true. You're a good worker. Your father told me so himself."
"Yeah? What did he say?"
"He said...um...that you were a hard worker but he thought you should get some experience outside of the store. But your father works hard and I think he needs your help. He's just too proud to ask for it."
An idea struck me.
"Maybe I could go down on Thursday and Friday nights?"
"That would be a start."
"Maybe Tuesdays too."
"That's the spirit."
"And Saturday afternoons."
"Don't make fun of me, Robbie."
"I'm not. I'm serious. I'll start tonight since it's Thursday."
"It's too late tonight. Start tomorrow instead. Maybe you can give your father a break so he can get home for a later dinner before going back until closing time."
"Okay Mom, but I'll just run down to see how things are going tonight."
"If you insist, but eat up now before your dinner gets cold.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I sneaked back into the house after leaving that night, hopeful that Mom might get ready for another visit from Dad, but she was downstairs watching TV. Obviously, she didn't expect him home. I sat around, being quiet as a mouse, but soon got bored. I thought about Dad, and then Jennifer, which motivated me to get off my ass. I drove down to the store, got into the back loft in the usual spot, and waited.
Dad came in ten minutes before closing time and sat at his desk. People came in and said goodnight but Dad ignored them, supposedly consumed by paperwork. Mrs. Omed came in with the cash box, set it on the desk and stood behind Dad. He ignored her also until she placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm leaving now, Mr. Horlock," she said in a voice louder than her proximity required. "I've asked Jennifer to stay and lock up tonight."
She leaned close to Dad's ear and said something I couldn't hear. He dropped his pencil and turned around, saw that they were alone, and patted her on her behind.
"Good girl," he said in a confidential tone.
Mrs. Omed laughed softly. "Don't work too hard," she said, then turned and left, amusement filling her face.
The lights dimmed through the door and Jennifer parted the curtain a few seconds later. She was wearing a nice dress that looked new. It looked like the kind of thing sold in our store.
"Mr. Horlock? Everything's locked up."
Dad put on his ignoring act.
"I'll be on my way then."
Jennifer started to leave but Dad swiveled his chair around and the hope that briefly flashed on Jennifer's face faded.
"Wait. No, don't turn around. That's a nice dress, Jennifer. It looks good on you."
"Thank you, Mr. Horlock."
Jennifer took a tentative step forward but stopped when Dad spoke again.
"Did you arrange for your babysitter to stay longer?"
Jennifer sighed. "Yes, Mr. Horlock."
"That's good, that's very good. Come closer, girl. No, don't turn around, just back up. That's it...wait...just stand there for a minute."
I could see embarrassment and even shame on Jennifer's face as she stood in front of Dad, her back to him, as he surveyed her slender body. A strange mixture of sympathy and excitement flowed through me and my cock began to swell.
"A nice dress, that's for sure, but it looks kind of long for you. Pull it up a bit."
Jennifer didn't move.
"Put your hands on the sides and slide it up your legs."
Jennifer did as she was told this time, her face very red. She stopped when the dress was half way up her thighs but Dad urged her to pull it up higher. She stopped again when the hem was just below her ass.
"Pull it right up. Let's see what kind of panties you picked out."
Jennifer started to comply but then paused. Her face was red as a beet.
"Pull it up," Dad snapped.
Jennifer took a deep breath and slid the dress up over her hips until it bunched at her waist. I could see a nice pair of red lace panties. My cock bulged in my shorts so I loosened the top button and carefully parted the zipper.
"Yeah, those are nice. I didn't know we had such nice ones in the store. I'll have to commend Mrs. Omed. Speaking of her, I hope she's been nicer to you today."
Jennifer mumbled something.
"What's that? Speak up."
"Yes."
"Good, good. Back up. All the way back."
Dad's hands rose from the arms of his chair and disappeared behind Jennifer. I could tell from her face he was touching her panties and then massaging her cheeks as she lurched forward a bit. Dad reached between Jennifer's legs to catch her, his fingers folding around to cup the front of her panties.
"Yeah, nice, real nice."
Dad 's hands returned to his lap and undid his belt. He parted his trousers and pulled his cock, already hard, out of his underwear.
"Pull them down."
"What?"
"Pull them down. They belong to me, not you."
Reluctantly, Jennifer pushed the red panties down until her ass was exposed. The panties stretched across her thighs, exposing a nice patch of pubic hair that was darker than the hair on her head but still blonde. Dad reached behind him and grabbed a small plastic squeeze bottle from the top of his desk and squirted an oily liquid on his cock. As he rubbed it in with one hand, he reached out with the other to poke at the bottom of Jennifer's ass.
"You'll need to trim that bush for me. Come closer."
Jennifer backed up but she could only go a half step before unexpectedly banging into Dad's chair. She lost her balance but Dad caught her, his hands grasping her waist under the dress.
"Can you feel that?" he asked.
Jennifer didn't answer. Her hands were trying to find the arms of Dad's chair so she could push herself back up but Dad held her firmly in place.
"I knew you'd be a little dry the first time," he said, "but next time you won't be, I promise."
Jennifer struggled but Dad steered her onto his cock. Her mouth opened the moment he began to penetrate her.
"Yeah, you're not used to that, are you?"
Jennifer's mouth remained open as Dad pulled her down until she was nestled in his lap.
"Do you like a big one, little girl? Huh?"
Dad was already moving inside her and Jennifer's face twisted in and out of several emotions as she tried to accommodate his big cock.
"Oh yeah. She likes that, doesn't she?" he talked to himself for her benefit.
Jennifer, slight as she was, was easily bounced up and down on Dad's lap as he both thrust and pulled her down on his meat.
"Oh yeah, we've got a convert now, don't we?"
Dad's hands slipped off of Jennifer's waist and grabbed her hands. Leaning forward, he half dumped her onto the floor but kept her from falling completely off the chair. Despite her awkward and uncomfortable position, he began fucking her hard, causing her whole upper body to flap around above the floor. I couldn't see the look on Jennifer's face because her long hair had fallen over her head.
Dad was banging her so hard Jennifer's head came into contact with the floor despite the firm grip me maintained on her arms, stretched behind her back. Seeing this, he leaned further forward and started banging her even harder, forcing her forehead to skid across the plastic carpet protector.
"It really fills a skinny little thing like you, doesn't it?"
Dad stood up and pulled Jennifer's head off the floor but kept her doubled over. He arched his back and wiggled his hips from side to side, digging his cock as deep as her could into Jennifer's cunt. Leaning over her, he grasped a handful of her hair and tugged her head up, then started fucking her hard again.
"Do you like that? Huh? Huh?"
Jennifer was too far gone to answer. I had thought she might be in pain, that she was struggling to bear this gross assault, but her face, exposed when Dad pulled her head up, was consumed with raw ecstasy. I was stunned. She did like it. In fact, from the look on her face, twisted up like it was with her mouth wide open, she absolutely loved it, I guessed because she hadn't had a big cock before and it really must feel different.
Dad stopped suddenly and spun Jennifer around to face the desk, his pants sliding down and puddling around his ankles. He pushed her onto the chair on her knees until the chair leaned back toward the desk. When it went over far enough, the legs kicked out and the chair started to skid out from the desk. Jennifer cried out but the chair quickly stopped. Dad had tied it to the inner legs of the desk, just inside each set of drawers, halting its fall.
Jennifer was now on her knees, leaning over the back of the chair and pushed half over the desk. Dad straddled the chair and stepped up behind Jennifer, put his hand around the back of her neck, and pushed her head onto the desk. As her ass lifted, Dad ducked, used his cock to scout for her hole, and shoved it in. Jennifer tried to lift her head but couldn't.
A very steady fuck followed. If any cops were on the beat walking the alley, they would have knocked on the front door to see what was going on. But there were no interruptions. Dad's pelvis noisily slapped against Jennifer's ass, adding to the din. My hand found my own cock and started stroking it in time with Dad's thrusts and Jennifer's moans. Yes, she was actually moaning. About half way through the pounding, she became quite vocal.
When Dad increased the fury of his attack, grabbing Jennifer's hair and pulling her up until her back was arched and her neck kinked with each forward lunge, she got even louder. She was loving it and it seemed clear that Jennifer had never been fucked like this, fucked hard and well. When Dad released her hair and grabbed her waist to hold her cunt in place for the final ravaging, Jennifer braced her hands on the desk and kept her torso lifted with her head thrown back.
When she came, you would have thought an animal was being gutted, it was so primordial. She slumped over but Dad lifted her and, with her body still perched on his cock, backed away from the chair and set her down on her feet. As soon as he turned her around she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist. Grasping her under the thighs, Dad lifted Jennifer and she squirmed around until she found and slid down over his cock, impaling herself.
"Ahhh Jenny, you're a good girl. Did you like that?"
Jennifer's head, buried in the nape of Dad's neck, nodded.
"If I was a younger man, I'd give you another go, but you'll have to wait lassie."
Dad reached around to cup Jennifer's ass. Immediately thereafter her head jerked up, mouth open in a silent wail.
"It's okay darlin', it's just a little finger is all. Nothing to worry about."
Dad's wrist wriggled and I knew he'd stuck a finger in Jennifer's ass.
"Just something to think about for next time," Dad said.
Jennifer buried her head back in Dad's shoulder and shook it. She said something but I couldn't make it out.
Dad laughed.
"Well, you probably didn't think getting fucked was going to be any fun either."
Jennifer mumbled again.
"Too big?" Dad laughed again. "You'd be surprised what you can take in there. Don't worry about it now. I wouldn't hurt you."
Dad lifted Jennifer off his cock and set her down on the floor.
"Go pick out a new dress for yourself."
Jennifer started to pick up her clothes but Dad stopped her.
"In the nude girl. I want to see you wandering out there butt-naked."
Jennifer scooted out of the office and into the store and Dad followed after pulling his pants up.
********
...to be continued
Update - 6
********
Friday night at supper, I made sure Mom knew I was going down to help Dad at the store. I asked if she wanted me to take him some dinner but she declined, saying I should tell him to nip home for a good hot meal.
By the time I was ready to leave, Mom had turned out the living room lights. Seeing my expression, she explained that she was going upstairs to read until Dad came home. Mom's face seemed a little flushed and her breath a little short. She was excited, and that excited me because I knew my ploy had worked. With me at the store, Mom thought Dad would come home for a session. Fantastic! Damn right he would.
I parked the car in the usual place, waited half an hour, and then made my way back to the house. In my room, I undressed and listened at the door, hardening the instant I heard a porno clip playing on Mom's TV. I crept into the hall, stark naked, and made my way down to Mom's room. I peeked in.
She was lying on the bed but not on a pillow. She was wearing a black, lacy camisole bunched up on her waist and nothing else. Each time her ass raised up, her bare pussy flashed into view, plugged full of her own fingers. From the sound of her breathing, I knew she was already ready for my entrance. Had I waited long enough for Dad to get home? I wasn't sure but then realized that Mom probably didn't know how much time had passed either.
Quietly, I retreated down the stairs where I opened and closed the door. I clumped upstairs and walked into Mom's room. Her ass started wriggling on her fingers faster as soon as I stopped at the end of the bed. Seeking perfect realism, I spotted some of Dad's clothes on a chair by his side of the bed, picked them up, and dropped each piece on the floor, one by one.
I loved waiting and watching her anticipation. The way she squirmed around, opening and closing her pussy lips, was almost enough to make me come. Fuck, she was hot. I pressed my knee onto the bed to let her know I was coming but instead of getting fully aboard, I bent her leg and started licking the bottom of her foot.
"Mmmm, yesss," Mom cried.
I flicked my tongue along the crease at the bottom of her toes and dragged it between each pair of toes in turn. After that, I chewed on the edge of her sole, nipped her heel and pinched the Achilles tendon between my teeth. I gave the same treatment to Mom's other foot while lightly stroking the calf of the first leg. When I was done, I bent both knees until Mom's curled feet were almost touching her ass above her widespread thighs. I kneeled behind her and found her waiting cunt, pushing immediately into her wetness with three fingers.
"Oh my God," Mom hissed. "Don't tease, just fuck me."
I was some taken aback, I can tell you. Mom lifted her ass and swirled it teasingly around in front of my face. What an invitation.
Don't you even think about it.
"Please baby. Just fuck me."
Mom's ass yawed in front of me. She lifted it really high. What to do?
I leaned forward and pushed my flat tongue onto her pussy. Mom lurched ahead and then quickly back.
"Ohhh baby, it's been so long since you did that."
I pulled back, rose up on my knees, and reached over her back to grab her head and, turning it, pushed her face down into the bed. It was a signal that her familiar talk was ruining the game. If I allowed Mom to talk too much, she would soon expect a response, and then the game would really be up.
I returned to her pussy and gobbled her lower lips into mine, sliced my tongue through her slit, and started lapping. My finger found her mons and began rubbing across it, occasionally curling down to flick her clit.
I took Mom through two orgasms before grabbing my cock and pressing it between her cheeks but she blocked me, putting her hands across her ass to cover the little hole. I pushed them aside but they quickly returned. Mom mumbled into the mattress. I couldn't understand her so I twisted her head until her mouth was clear.
"Sore," was all she said
What the fuck could I do now?
You can't fuck her.
Oh, go fuck yourself, conscience.
You can't!
I know, I know.
I looked at Mom's gorgeous, pouting, puffy, wet pussy, waiting for me to enter it. Oh my fucking God, give me strength. I kneeled my way back, away from temptation, grabbed Mom's legs and pulled them straight to make her pussy fall onto the bed. For extra measure, I pushed her legs closed.
Whew! That was a close call. But what to do now? Mom expected Dad to fuck her. I couldn't leave her getting turned down like that, I had to do something he might want more.
On her face! Dad liked to spew his spunk on a woman's face. Mom must know that.
I grabbed Mom's legs and yanked her lower on the bed, then pulled her feet around to the side. There, I twisted her feet until Mom rolled over onto her back, then walked around to the other side of the bed behind her head. I grabbed her arms and positioned her to get her neck on the edge with her head tipping just over. Mom smiled. She knew what was coming.
The sleeping mask had ridden up on Mom's face but not enough so she could see under it. Mom raised her hand and pulled it back into place and I realized how close I had come to total disaster. I sighed in relief and Mom smiled again, reading the sound as eager anticipation. She opened her mouth.
And I filled it.
I should have known, should have prepared myself: the sensations almost knocked me off my feet. I would have fallen had my knees not hit the edge of the bed. As it was, my cock simply slid deep into Mom's mouth on the first thrust whereas I had meant to introduce myself gently. After regaining my balance, I pulled back and barely stopped myself from saying, 'sorry.'
I gently massaged Mom's throat, worried I might have hurt her but she took hold of my rod in her delicate fingers and pulled me deep into her mouth, right to the back, and into her throat. I groaned as I both saw and felt my cock in Mom's throat. It was the strangest and most exciting feeling I had ever experienced. Mom tilted her head further over the edge of the bed, straightening her neck and making the presence of my shaft more obvious.
When I noticed Mom struggling to breathe through her nose, I pulled back, to a popping sound followed by a rush of air as Mom inhaled. I waited until she tugged on my cock before pushing it back in and thought I had reached the pinnacle of bliss when the fingernails of her other hand scratched my balls, sending me even higher. And then she inserted a fingertip into my ass!
What followed was the first, and of course, best blowjob of my life. I kept sliding in and out of Mom's mouth, slow and deep, and never shoved it in roughly like Dad had down to Mrs. Omed and Jennifer. The very thought of abusing Mom like that turned me off. She was awarding this tremendous gift, unknowingly to me rather than Dad, so how could anyone even contemplate mistreating her?
Somewhere along the line, I pulled the camisole up and grabbed Mom's tits, massaging the meaty swells and tweaking her nipples, flicking them with my fingers, pinching and rolling them, pulling, then finally leaning over to suck them into my mouth. The whole time, Mom's finger wiggled, paused, then wiggled again.
When I came, I didn't pull my cock out to spew all over Mom's face like I knew Dad would. I kept it firmly plugged into Mom's mouth and watched her throat swell and contract repeatedly as she took every spurt.
I hated to go when I was done but knew I had to. I wanted to lie down on the bed and wrap my arms around her. As I dressed in my room an emptiness came over me. Yes, it was exciting to shove my whole hand up Mom's pussy; yes, it was incredible to take her ass; and yes, it was mind-blowing to blow my wad down her throat; but what I wanted to do right then was kiss her and hold her in my arms.
Crawling out the window, it struck me that I really loved my mother and always had.
I had simply discovered a new aspect of her, one that I wanted to have all to myself.
As I walked back to the car, dark thoughts filled my mind, about my father.
I didn't want anything to do with the prick anymore. He was a selfish asshole and I didn't want to be anything like him. Why had I done that to Mom? Why had I fisted her, taken her in the ass? Pounded her throat? Why?
I thought about Mom until I fell asleep but didn't masturbate. Instead, I cried, ashamed of myself.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
As usual, Mom was super attentive to Dad the next morning while treating me the same as usual. I was jealous. It was me who was the architect of her newfound zest for life, so it should be me she was dressing for, me who should be the target of her perfume, and me who should be the reason she spent so much time in the bathroom doing her make-up and softening her skin in a bubble bath.
Dad didn't even notice the extra work she put into his breakfast and dinners and the sad part was that he wasn't acting, he simply didn't notice, yet I'm sure Mom thought it was all part of their strange sexual game. He had neglected her for so long she was desperate for his attention. What Dad had said to Mrs. Omed was probably true, that Mom was too straight to satisfy him in the sack, but that was years ago and now, after years of being discounted, she would do anything for him in bed, or out. She needed to be loved.
That thought triggered a startling realization. I knew that Mom thought it was Dad participating in the mystery visitor game but what I hadn't known until now was that it had just begun, otherwise Dad would know how much she was willing to do, or take.
The game had to stop. Even if Mom didn't find out the truth about me, she would learn the truth about Dad: he hadn't rediscovered his love for her as she thought; she would just be another receptacle for him to use. And I didn't want him using her. After seeing him with two women, I don't think it was in my father to love a woman. Want one, yes, but not love. I had to do something to protect Mom, to shield her from this inevitable discovery.
My mind was dwelling on what I could possibly do when I noticed Mom looking at me strangely during lunch. She appeared to be avoiding making eye contact with me but when she didn't know I was aware she peered at me with an odd expression on her face.
I first noticed this when I saw Mom's reflection in the glass door on the china cabinet but it happened several more times that afternoon. It was very disconcerting.
What had happened between breakfast and lunch to cause this strange attention?
Dad came home for dinner, which was unusual for him on a Friday night. We ate dinner in silence and I had the distinct feeling that Mom was looking at me every time I looked down at my plate. I looked down often to avoid making uncomfortable eye contact.
After dinner, I excused myself and went upstairs but I crept down the hall and laid on the carpet near the top of the stairs, like I had done when I was a kid to listen to my parents discussing my report cards.
"So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"
"Oh, nothing. Something came up this morning that worried me but it's nothing, just silly woman stuff. Don't worry about it."
"Damn it, Lisa. I'm busy down at the store. You made this sound so important, that's why I came home for dinner."
"I know dear, but I, you know, it's nothing really. I just was worried, that's all."
"Well what was it, for Christ's sake? I'm here now."
"Well..."
"Come on, spit it out."
"Well, I was talking to Alice, and she said she was at the store last night..."
My heart sank into my stomach, even lying down. This was it. I wanted to get up and run but I couldn't tear myself away from the terrible scene below, the one that would write my epitaph.
"Well, Robbie told me he was going to help you down at the store starting tonight..."
"I don't need his help. His heart isn't in it and that's not good for the staff to see."
"Well, anyway, I thought it might be nice, you're working so hard lately and all, so..."
"That's right. I am busy and I don't have time to find things for Robbie to do."
I sighed in relief. This was all it was about? Of course Dad didn't want me around. It was too bad Mom found that out before I got started with my new helping act but it wasn't really a problem, it just spelled the end of my planned game nights and afternoons. The decision to quit had been made for me now, and I felt kind of relieved.
No more taking advantage of Mom.
"I see. Alright, well, I just thought it would be nice..."
"Yes, yes, but what the hell has this got to do with Alice?"
"Oh, well Robbie told me he was going down to the store last night but I was talking to Alice this morning..."
Dad silently interrupted Mom, waving his hand in a rolling circle, indicating she should get on with it. I didn't like the sound of this. My heart began descending into the pit of my stomach again.
"...so Alice said she was in the store last night and Robbie wasn't there."
Dad looked exasperated. "So? Maybe he changed his mind and went out with his friends."
"Well, Alice said you were there." Mom sounded very troubled. Her voice even cracked as she said this but Dad didn't notice. In fairness, why should Alice's discovery of him in the store be important?
"Yes, I saw her but I didn't have time to talk with her. Is that what this is about,
I didn't have time to talk with one of your friends?" Dad held his hands out in a 'so what' expression. "That's it. Alice didn't see Robbie but she saw me and I didn't talk with her? Woopdie do."
Mom shrugged.
"Another thing, Lisa. Rob is eighteen. You should stop calling him Robbie. He's almost a man and he can go out at nights without telling his Mommy where he's going. He was probably just having a beer with his friends and told you he was going to the store so you wouldn't question him. Jesus."
Dad got up.
"I've got to get back to work. I'll be later because of this."
"I'm sorry dear. I guess it just rattled me because...because Robbie lied to me."
"Don't be hard on the boy. It was just a little lie, Lisa."
"I suppose so."
Dad gave Mom a peck on the cheek. "Don't wait up for me."
"I won't dear."
Dad left and I worked my way back to my room.
Shit, shit and double shit!
Dad didn't have a clue what was going on but Mom must now suspect me, otherwise why would her voice have cracked like that? Wait, just wait. Of course she's upset. Someone had been fucking her, someone pretending to be Dad, but why should that mean it was me? Why would she suspect her own son, for fuck's sake?
Because you said you'd be out, and she knows that at least one time, you lied about it.
Well, yeah. But if it doesn't happen again, then there's no proof. And anyway, Dad supplied the answer for me. I'll just admit I went out to drink with my friends.
Right.
That's it then.
Finally, you've come to your senses.
********
...to be continued
********
Friday night at supper, I made sure Mom knew I was going down to help Dad at the store. I asked if she wanted me to take him some dinner but she declined, saying I should tell him to nip home for a good hot meal.
By the time I was ready to leave, Mom had turned out the living room lights. Seeing my expression, she explained that she was going upstairs to read until Dad came home. Mom's face seemed a little flushed and her breath a little short. She was excited, and that excited me because I knew my ploy had worked. With me at the store, Mom thought Dad would come home for a session. Fantastic! Damn right he would.
I parked the car in the usual place, waited half an hour, and then made my way back to the house. In my room, I undressed and listened at the door, hardening the instant I heard a porno clip playing on Mom's TV. I crept into the hall, stark naked, and made my way down to Mom's room. I peeked in.
She was lying on the bed but not on a pillow. She was wearing a black, lacy camisole bunched up on her waist and nothing else. Each time her ass raised up, her bare pussy flashed into view, plugged full of her own fingers. From the sound of her breathing, I knew she was already ready for my entrance. Had I waited long enough for Dad to get home? I wasn't sure but then realized that Mom probably didn't know how much time had passed either.
Quietly, I retreated down the stairs where I opened and closed the door. I clumped upstairs and walked into Mom's room. Her ass started wriggling on her fingers faster as soon as I stopped at the end of the bed. Seeking perfect realism, I spotted some of Dad's clothes on a chair by his side of the bed, picked them up, and dropped each piece on the floor, one by one.
I loved waiting and watching her anticipation. The way she squirmed around, opening and closing her pussy lips, was almost enough to make me come. Fuck, she was hot. I pressed my knee onto the bed to let her know I was coming but instead of getting fully aboard, I bent her leg and started licking the bottom of her foot.
"Mmmm, yesss," Mom cried.
I flicked my tongue along the crease at the bottom of her toes and dragged it between each pair of toes in turn. After that, I chewed on the edge of her sole, nipped her heel and pinched the Achilles tendon between my teeth. I gave the same treatment to Mom's other foot while lightly stroking the calf of the first leg. When I was done, I bent both knees until Mom's curled feet were almost touching her ass above her widespread thighs. I kneeled behind her and found her waiting cunt, pushing immediately into her wetness with three fingers.
"Oh my God," Mom hissed. "Don't tease, just fuck me."
I was some taken aback, I can tell you. Mom lifted her ass and swirled it teasingly around in front of my face. What an invitation.
Don't you even think about it.
"Please baby. Just fuck me."
Mom's ass yawed in front of me. She lifted it really high. What to do?
I leaned forward and pushed my flat tongue onto her pussy. Mom lurched ahead and then quickly back.
"Ohhh baby, it's been so long since you did that."
I pulled back, rose up on my knees, and reached over her back to grab her head and, turning it, pushed her face down into the bed. It was a signal that her familiar talk was ruining the game. If I allowed Mom to talk too much, she would soon expect a response, and then the game would really be up.
I returned to her pussy and gobbled her lower lips into mine, sliced my tongue through her slit, and started lapping. My finger found her mons and began rubbing across it, occasionally curling down to flick her clit.
I took Mom through two orgasms before grabbing my cock and pressing it between her cheeks but she blocked me, putting her hands across her ass to cover the little hole. I pushed them aside but they quickly returned. Mom mumbled into the mattress. I couldn't understand her so I twisted her head until her mouth was clear.
"Sore," was all she said
What the fuck could I do now?
You can't fuck her.
Oh, go fuck yourself, conscience.
You can't!
I know, I know.
I looked at Mom's gorgeous, pouting, puffy, wet pussy, waiting for me to enter it. Oh my fucking God, give me strength. I kneeled my way back, away from temptation, grabbed Mom's legs and pulled them straight to make her pussy fall onto the bed. For extra measure, I pushed her legs closed.
Whew! That was a close call. But what to do now? Mom expected Dad to fuck her. I couldn't leave her getting turned down like that, I had to do something he might want more.
On her face! Dad liked to spew his spunk on a woman's face. Mom must know that.
I grabbed Mom's legs and yanked her lower on the bed, then pulled her feet around to the side. There, I twisted her feet until Mom rolled over onto her back, then walked around to the other side of the bed behind her head. I grabbed her arms and positioned her to get her neck on the edge with her head tipping just over. Mom smiled. She knew what was coming.
The sleeping mask had ridden up on Mom's face but not enough so she could see under it. Mom raised her hand and pulled it back into place and I realized how close I had come to total disaster. I sighed in relief and Mom smiled again, reading the sound as eager anticipation. She opened her mouth.
And I filled it.
I should have known, should have prepared myself: the sensations almost knocked me off my feet. I would have fallen had my knees not hit the edge of the bed. As it was, my cock simply slid deep into Mom's mouth on the first thrust whereas I had meant to introduce myself gently. After regaining my balance, I pulled back and barely stopped myself from saying, 'sorry.'
I gently massaged Mom's throat, worried I might have hurt her but she took hold of my rod in her delicate fingers and pulled me deep into her mouth, right to the back, and into her throat. I groaned as I both saw and felt my cock in Mom's throat. It was the strangest and most exciting feeling I had ever experienced. Mom tilted her head further over the edge of the bed, straightening her neck and making the presence of my shaft more obvious.
When I noticed Mom struggling to breathe through her nose, I pulled back, to a popping sound followed by a rush of air as Mom inhaled. I waited until she tugged on my cock before pushing it back in and thought I had reached the pinnacle of bliss when the fingernails of her other hand scratched my balls, sending me even higher. And then she inserted a fingertip into my ass!
What followed was the first, and of course, best blowjob of my life. I kept sliding in and out of Mom's mouth, slow and deep, and never shoved it in roughly like Dad had down to Mrs. Omed and Jennifer. The very thought of abusing Mom like that turned me off. She was awarding this tremendous gift, unknowingly to me rather than Dad, so how could anyone even contemplate mistreating her?
Somewhere along the line, I pulled the camisole up and grabbed Mom's tits, massaging the meaty swells and tweaking her nipples, flicking them with my fingers, pinching and rolling them, pulling, then finally leaning over to suck them into my mouth. The whole time, Mom's finger wiggled, paused, then wiggled again.
When I came, I didn't pull my cock out to spew all over Mom's face like I knew Dad would. I kept it firmly plugged into Mom's mouth and watched her throat swell and contract repeatedly as she took every spurt.
I hated to go when I was done but knew I had to. I wanted to lie down on the bed and wrap my arms around her. As I dressed in my room an emptiness came over me. Yes, it was exciting to shove my whole hand up Mom's pussy; yes, it was incredible to take her ass; and yes, it was mind-blowing to blow my wad down her throat; but what I wanted to do right then was kiss her and hold her in my arms.
Crawling out the window, it struck me that I really loved my mother and always had.
I had simply discovered a new aspect of her, one that I wanted to have all to myself.
As I walked back to the car, dark thoughts filled my mind, about my father.
I didn't want anything to do with the prick anymore. He was a selfish asshole and I didn't want to be anything like him. Why had I done that to Mom? Why had I fisted her, taken her in the ass? Pounded her throat? Why?
I thought about Mom until I fell asleep but didn't masturbate. Instead, I cried, ashamed of myself.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
As usual, Mom was super attentive to Dad the next morning while treating me the same as usual. I was jealous. It was me who was the architect of her newfound zest for life, so it should be me she was dressing for, me who should be the target of her perfume, and me who should be the reason she spent so much time in the bathroom doing her make-up and softening her skin in a bubble bath.
Dad didn't even notice the extra work she put into his breakfast and dinners and the sad part was that he wasn't acting, he simply didn't notice, yet I'm sure Mom thought it was all part of their strange sexual game. He had neglected her for so long she was desperate for his attention. What Dad had said to Mrs. Omed was probably true, that Mom was too straight to satisfy him in the sack, but that was years ago and now, after years of being discounted, she would do anything for him in bed, or out. She needed to be loved.
That thought triggered a startling realization. I knew that Mom thought it was Dad participating in the mystery visitor game but what I hadn't known until now was that it had just begun, otherwise Dad would know how much she was willing to do, or take.
The game had to stop. Even if Mom didn't find out the truth about me, she would learn the truth about Dad: he hadn't rediscovered his love for her as she thought; she would just be another receptacle for him to use. And I didn't want him using her. After seeing him with two women, I don't think it was in my father to love a woman. Want one, yes, but not love. I had to do something to protect Mom, to shield her from this inevitable discovery.
My mind was dwelling on what I could possibly do when I noticed Mom looking at me strangely during lunch. She appeared to be avoiding making eye contact with me but when she didn't know I was aware she peered at me with an odd expression on her face.
I first noticed this when I saw Mom's reflection in the glass door on the china cabinet but it happened several more times that afternoon. It was very disconcerting.
What had happened between breakfast and lunch to cause this strange attention?
Dad came home for dinner, which was unusual for him on a Friday night. We ate dinner in silence and I had the distinct feeling that Mom was looking at me every time I looked down at my plate. I looked down often to avoid making uncomfortable eye contact.
After dinner, I excused myself and went upstairs but I crept down the hall and laid on the carpet near the top of the stairs, like I had done when I was a kid to listen to my parents discussing my report cards.
"So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"
"Oh, nothing. Something came up this morning that worried me but it's nothing, just silly woman stuff. Don't worry about it."
"Damn it, Lisa. I'm busy down at the store. You made this sound so important, that's why I came home for dinner."
"I know dear, but I, you know, it's nothing really. I just was worried, that's all."
"Well what was it, for Christ's sake? I'm here now."
"Well..."
"Come on, spit it out."
"Well, I was talking to Alice, and she said she was at the store last night..."
My heart sank into my stomach, even lying down. This was it. I wanted to get up and run but I couldn't tear myself away from the terrible scene below, the one that would write my epitaph.
"Well, Robbie told me he was going to help you down at the store starting tonight..."
"I don't need his help. His heart isn't in it and that's not good for the staff to see."
"Well, anyway, I thought it might be nice, you're working so hard lately and all, so..."
"That's right. I am busy and I don't have time to find things for Robbie to do."
I sighed in relief. This was all it was about? Of course Dad didn't want me around. It was too bad Mom found that out before I got started with my new helping act but it wasn't really a problem, it just spelled the end of my planned game nights and afternoons. The decision to quit had been made for me now, and I felt kind of relieved.
No more taking advantage of Mom.
"I see. Alright, well, I just thought it would be nice..."
"Yes, yes, but what the hell has this got to do with Alice?"
"Oh, well Robbie told me he was going down to the store last night but I was talking to Alice this morning..."
Dad silently interrupted Mom, waving his hand in a rolling circle, indicating she should get on with it. I didn't like the sound of this. My heart began descending into the pit of my stomach again.
"...so Alice said she was in the store last night and Robbie wasn't there."
Dad looked exasperated. "So? Maybe he changed his mind and went out with his friends."
"Well, Alice said you were there." Mom sounded very troubled. Her voice even cracked as she said this but Dad didn't notice. In fairness, why should Alice's discovery of him in the store be important?
"Yes, I saw her but I didn't have time to talk with her. Is that what this is about,
I didn't have time to talk with one of your friends?" Dad held his hands out in a 'so what' expression. "That's it. Alice didn't see Robbie but she saw me and I didn't talk with her? Woopdie do."
Mom shrugged.
"Another thing, Lisa. Rob is eighteen. You should stop calling him Robbie. He's almost a man and he can go out at nights without telling his Mommy where he's going. He was probably just having a beer with his friends and told you he was going to the store so you wouldn't question him. Jesus."
Dad got up.
"I've got to get back to work. I'll be later because of this."
"I'm sorry dear. I guess it just rattled me because...because Robbie lied to me."
"Don't be hard on the boy. It was just a little lie, Lisa."
"I suppose so."
Dad gave Mom a peck on the cheek. "Don't wait up for me."
"I won't dear."
Dad left and I worked my way back to my room.
Shit, shit and double shit!
Dad didn't have a clue what was going on but Mom must now suspect me, otherwise why would her voice have cracked like that? Wait, just wait. Of course she's upset. Someone had been fucking her, someone pretending to be Dad, but why should that mean it was me? Why would she suspect her own son, for fuck's sake?
Because you said you'd be out, and she knows that at least one time, you lied about it.
Well, yeah. But if it doesn't happen again, then there's no proof. And anyway, Dad supplied the answer for me. I'll just admit I went out to drink with my friends.
Right.
That's it then.
Finally, you've come to your senses.
********
...to be continued
Update - 7
********
It's hard to believe I had come so close to discovery but gotten away with it. For the next week I thanked my lucky stars. I didn't even go down to the store to watch Dad with Mrs. Omed or Jennifer. Partly, I didn't want to get caught and partly I just wasn't interested in watching Dad abuse women that way, whether they seemed to like it or not. I thought I wanted was disgusting to force a woman to do one's will.
By the second week, I wasn't so pleased. I was sure Mom suspected me. She kept looking at me with that weird expression on her face. I had become adept at catching her looking at me in various reflective surfaces about the house. The strange thing was, even though Mom knew Dad wasn't visiting her and really was ignoring like always, she continued to dress nicely and do her make-up. That was a plus anyway; Mom seemed to have been permanently lifted from her depression. Maybe it had all been worth it after all.
But the strange looks continued but one day I caught Mom looking with a different expression on her face. It was softer and no longer angry, more curious than horrified, and I found that more disconcerting. What did it mean?
Despite Mom's continued care with her appearance, I had been careful not to compliment her or even mention anything about the way she dressed or looked. Mom must have missed it because she began specifically asking me about this or that piece of clothing, which shoes I thought would go better with a certain dress, whether her lipstick was the right color, and whether or not I liked her hair which had now grown almost long enough to touch her shoulders. Mom was continually drawing my attention to her and, though it made me nervous at first, I grew to like it. Soon, I was making unsolicited complimentary remarks about Mom's appearance. One day, while we were sitting on the couch waiting for Dad to come home for supper, I complimented Mom on her new shoes.
"You always did notice my feet, even when you were little."
The comment startled me so I queried her for more detail.
"I always liked your feet?"
"Yes," Mom laughed. "When you were little, you used to play with them."
"I did?"
"Yes. First you were fascinated that I painted my toenails and you wanted to have yours painted too. You were quite particular about the colors. Don't you remember me telling you not to let your Dad see?"
I shook my head.
"Then you just liked to play with my feet. You would rub them for ages."
I thought about how I had kissed Mom's toes and licked the bottom of her soles. Had I given myself away somehow even before Alice visited the store? Had Mom sent Alice to the store to see if I was there, looking for corroboration of already developed suspicions? Was she trying to trap me now?
"I don't remember that Mom."
Mom stretched her leg out toward me and put her foot on the couch.
"Tell me if you like the color."
I looked at Mom's blue shoe.
"Yeah, it's okay."
"Not the shoe, silly. My toenails."
"I can't see them."
"Well, take my shoe off."
Mom wiggled her foot.
Reluctantly, afraid of somehow giving myself away, I pulled the shoe off Mom's foot. Her toenails were painted a color somewhere between orange and red.
"No, I don't like the color."
Mom looked disappointed.
"Really? That was your favorite color when you were little."
Just then, Dad's car pulled into the driveway and Mom pulled her foot away. She leaned down and put the shoe back on her foot before getting up to greet Dad at the door.
Nothing else was said that day about Mom's toenails but I couldn't stop thinking about it and wondering why she had brought up the subject of me liking her feet when I was a kid. It was weird and it made me nervous.
I had a hard time getting to sleep that night. I had been deathly afraid if Mom's suspicions were confirmed in her mind that I would be kicked out of the house and be disowned. Now, I was scared that her suspicions had been confirmed and nothing bad was going to happen to me, and that Mom might in fact have been flattered if not pleased by the attention. Could this be?
Although the prospect of Mom being pleased had its obvious rewards, it was scary new territory. It was one thing to sneak up on Mom from behind under the protection of anonymity, but quite another to look her honestly in the face with my desires.
I managed to get to sleep but only after convincing myself that Mom had only been regarding me with strange looks because I had been complimenting her and had then ceased. She probably believed, I reasoned, that I had noticed her buoyant mood, revived looks, and renewed attention to Dad, without observing anything that would motivate
such a change. Therefore, I must suspect her of having an affair. In fact, hadn't I provide opportunities by making it clear, perhaps overly so, that I would be gone for hours on end in the afternoons and evenings? Maybe Mom thought I was spying on her to confirm my own suspicions and had in fact witnessed a visit by her mysterious lover. Maybe she even thought I was jealous.
That was it. My near incestuous, at least technically in my mind, indiscretion was still undiscovered. I was safe.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Mom went shopping the next day and came home with a ton of stuff including skirts, blouses, dresses, pants, shoes, and under things. I thought she was being kind of obvious but then, given Dad and I didn't get along, and the fact that I hadn't said anything, why should she worry?
Mom went upstairs with most of her stuff and had a long bath, then called me to ask if I could bring up some bags she had forgotten to take upstairs. When I entered her bedroom, she was sitting on her bed, wearing a terry cloth robe, and had her feet on a towel spread over the covers with spacers between her toes, ready to do her toenails.
"Oh, thanks Rob. Hey while you're here, help me pick out a nice color for my toes."
I was stuck. Mom showed me several colors and asked me to pick one. Then, she asked me to stay until it dried a bit to make sure it still looked good. So I sat on the bed and watched Mom paint her toes and looked at her legs which looked so fine fresh out of a hot bath. I kept wondering if she was wearing anything under the fluffy robe and became convinced she wasn't. I wondered if Mom had brought up the whole feet thing because she wanted to reward me for not spilling the beans on her and what she would think of it if she knew I was thinking about her being naked under her robe.
Although Mom did a perfect job on the first foot, she insisted she had made a mess of it and asked me to do the other one. Although the terry cloth robe was clasped demurely about Mom's knees, it gapped open under her thighs and I was treated to a wonderful vista for about ten minutes, not to mention the perfumed scent of her freshly washed skin. I found myself wondering how I could reinitiate our afternoon adventures rather than being thankful that they had stopped without me getting caught. Not only did I get a boner, my skin tingled now that I was convinced Mom was naked under a robe in such close proximity to me.
Mom's new blouses were form fitting affairs that were conservative in style but emphasized the feminine nature of her figure. The skirt she put on was heavily pleated and accented the sway of her hips when she walked. The outfit personified muted sexuality.
It was a Friday night and Dad was only home for a quick dinner. Despite that, I finished eating first and excused myself before heading for my room. I hadn't quite got to the top of the stairs when I heard Mom asking Dad, rather loudly, if he was coming home early.
"No, we need to start the inventory early so I'll actually be quite late tonight."
Yeah right, I thought. Is it Mrs. Omed or Jennifer, or have you started on someone new already?
"You're sure?" Mom asked. "I went shopping today was going to give you a fashion show."
Mom knew this would irk Dad because he always wanted her to get her clothes from the store where they could be purchased wholesale but Mom insisted on patronizing other stores with the excuse that would encourage them to reciprocate. The truth was, Mom didn't like the clothes in our store.
Dad held himself in check and answered in an even tone, "I'm sorry sweetheart, but the inventory has to get done."
"That's alright, I understand."
I had the distinct impression that the whole query had been for my benefit, that Mom was sending a signal to me that she wanted to be alone tonight, and this was confirmed by Mom's first question after I came back downstairs. She was sitting on the couch watching TV and I sat in Dad's chair to watch too. For some reason, teenaged rebelliousness no doubt, I wanted to make her specifically ask for time to indulge her dalliance.
"Are you going out tonight, Rob?"
That was another thing. Mom never called me 'Robbie' anymore, it was always 'Rob' now.
"Uh, I'm not sure. Why?"
"I was just wondering." There was a long pause, then Mom added, "I think your father might be coming home early so we can spend some time together." Mom kept her gaze fixed on the TV.
"Oh."
Even without overhearing her earlier conversation with Dad, I would have been able to tell Mom was lying. I didn't say anything more because I was thinking about how lousy Mom was at having an affair and she spoke before I could respond.
"I guess you can have the TV then because I think I'll go upstairs and read until your father comes home."
Mom got up and handed me the remote, then started for the stairs.
"Mom?"
"Yes?" She turned around.
"I think maybe I will go out. Do you mind?"
Mom smiled. "No, not at all. Will you be late?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Okay dear. Then I'll see you in the morning."
Mom came back and leaned over to give me a kiss on the forehead and I started to react the instant her jostling blouse hung in front of my face. I turned the TV off before Mom got to the top of the stairs so Mom would know I was leaving right away. I left shortly after and drove to my usual parking spot but sat there for almost an hour, thinking.
So Mom had figured out that Dad wasn't her surprise lover but she didn't know who it really was. How could she? Yet, she was still willing, even eager, to experience another visit. How did she know 'he' would come tonight? Did she suspect another merchant that knew her and Dad, or at least, someone who worked downtown and would know when Dad was working? It couldn't be someone from the store because Dad was the only male there but maybe it was someone's husband. Sure, maybe she knew about Dad's indiscretions and thought an injured husband was getting back at him.
I was quite eager when I crawled through my bedroom window and stripped off my clothes. I was now confident that I wasn't under suspicion. The hallway was dark and the downstairs lights were off too. Mom must have gone down after I left and turned them off. I crept down the hall and listened at Mom's open door. There were no "Mmmmm's" or DVD porno sounds coming from Mom's bedroom, only some softly playing classical music. The main light was turned off and the room was lit by the light of a single bedside lamp. Mom was lying on the bed, on top of the covers, dressed in the white terry cloth robe she had worn that afternoon while doing her toenails.
Mom was lying on her back! No camisole and half spread legs, no upturned, ready-for-action ass? She looked like she was ready to confront her secret lover, face to face. I peeked into the room again. Mom looked like she was actually sleeping. Ahhh, she was wearing the sleep mask. That was a good sign. Maybe she wasn't intending to confront her lover, but was it enough to gamble everything on?
Part of my mind told me to run back to my room but another part, driven by a far less rational engine, told me to get in there and give my mother, the woman I loved, what she needed and deserved.
I chickened out.
That's why I was so startled when my feet carried me into Mom's room while my mind was still telling me to run the whole time I came closer and closer to Mom's bed.
Her toes. I think that's what made me stay. Mom's legs, from the knees down anyway, looked like they had been lightly oiled and her toes glistened with a glossy black coating. I stood there, stark naked with my cock already hard and sticking out, and stared at Mom. If I was wrong, the sleeping mask could be swept up on her forehead before I could move a muscle and I would be doomed.
I stepped close to the bed and tentatively touched Mom's toes. She barely flinched so I knew she was expecting someone, but who? The only way for her to know was to remove the mask. Or was it?
Mom might want sex regardless of who was here and she actually prefer not to know who it was. Maybe she was lying on her back simply because she was tired of taking it from behind, or didn't want to get it in the ass.
I grazed my fingertips down from Mom`s toes along the top of each foot, around her ankles to the side of her inner heels, and scratched up the center of her soles. I was pleased when Mom turned her feet outward to make it easier for me to touch the bottom of her feet and wiggled to settle herself deeper in the mattress. She gave no indication that she wanted to remove her mask.
I tickled Mom`s feet for a while, then moved up to caress her lower legs. When it was time to move above her knees I thought about opening her legs to make room for me to climb on the bed but changed my mind and crawled up with my knees straddling her legs. Parting Mom's legs would be an overtly sexual act and I wanted to maintain an air of innocence for a while for the benefit of my blindfolded mother. I was learning that anticipation was a large part of sexual enjoyment, something I don't think my father yet knew.
I fluttered my fingers over Mom's lower thighs as delicately as I could. As I moved higher, the front of the robe parted, exposing more and more of her upper legs. When I reached the thicker part of Mom's thighs, my fingers couldn't progress but Mom smiled and opened her legs enough to allow access. I pushed my open hands between Mom's legs, caressing the softest skin on her body. Sensing the heat from her nearby pussy, my cock hardened into steel and the tip fluttered with sensations as if I was touching it instead of Mom's inner thighs.
Mom wasn't wearing any panties and I noticed that her pussy had been completely shaved.
I reversed my hands and grazed the top of my fingernails near the sides of Mom's bald pussy and then traced the crease leading to her hips, pushing the robe apart before me. The robe was hindered by the belt so I undid the knot holding it and parted the robe to reveal Mom's bare breasts. Her nipples were trembling with more excitement than her slightly enhanced breath indicated she was experiencing.
Taking each between the finger and thumb of each hand, I stretched my knees out behind me and lowered my face until I was able to suck Mom's pubic lips into my mouth. My tongue found her groove and plowed up through her slit, wiggling from side to side on the backswing. I lapped through Mom's slit for several minutes, remembering to pull lightly on her nipples. Gradually, Mom's responses to my mouth increased in intensity and when the tip of my tongue found her inner hole on a gentle upswing of her hips, I pushed it deep inside.
"Ohhhhhhh Godddd!" Mom cried, twisting her hips and lunging against my face.
I teased Mom for ages with my lips and tongue. I had watched many porno flicks on the Internet and noticed that the actors only licked a woman for a few minutes before climbing aboard to satisfy themselves. Instead, I took Mom through to a complete orgasm and for the first time experienced the joy of an ecstatic woman clutching my head and uncontrollably grinding her pussy on my face, a woman totally abandoned to an all-consuming orgasm.
After Mom settled back into the bed, I crawled atop her body and kissed her full on the lips. Within seconds, we were locked in the most intense necking session I had ever experienced. Mom showed me what kissing was all about.
I was so engrossed that I didn't realize until the act was accomplished that Mom's arms had curled about my neck, her legs were wrapped around my waist, and her heels were digging into my ass. My cock skidded repeatedly over Mom's wet pussy and, with a deft movement of her hips, the head slipped inside Mom's pussy.
"Make love to me," Mom whispered as soon as my mouth pulled away from hers.
I panicked and tried to pull away but Mom, legs tightening and feet pressing into my ass, lifted herself up with me and my action only served to deepen the penetration of my cock into its maternal home. The sensation was exquisite. Her walls molded to my shaft and slid past it, a pulsing coat of moist heat.
"Love me, baby," Mom cried.
Deeper, deeper, until I was all the way in and I felt Mom's pussy lips pressing against my pelvis, gripping the root of my incredibly hard cock.
"Ohhhhhh baby, you're so big. I need it, I need you. Fuck me, please fuck me."
Mom's hips were moving, humping up against my weight, forcing me even deeper within her womb. Her hand was moving through my hair while the other scratched my back and her arms held me so tight there was little choice but to do what she said.
"Ohhhh yeah, fuck me, baby," Mom whimpered.
I gave in. My hips started moving, succumbing to her urgency and superseding it with my own, driving her harder and harder.
"Oh yes, do it hard," Mom urged. "I love it, love it."
I lost myself within her, throwing off all constraint in a frenzied fuck, pounding and pounding, amazed that I wasn't coming, thrusting harder and harder, wondering why she wasn't complaining and trying to slow me down instead of urging me on, faster and faster, whispering in my ear, saying nothing, just moaning and grunting with me.
When I finally came, Mom lowered her legs and locked them around the back of my thighs.
As I strained my muscles, flexing my body against hers, still grunting my bliss and pouring my liquid pleasure within her, Mom ensured that not a single drop escaped
capture.
"Fill me baby," she rasped several times in quick succession.
We enjoyed a long, languid kiss when I had recaptured my breath and then I pulled away, holding her hands in mine until they slipped away. I backed out of the room, watching Mom, less afraid of her removing the mask than not wanting to tear my eyes away from her sated body until the last moment.
********
...to be continued
********
It's hard to believe I had come so close to discovery but gotten away with it. For the next week I thanked my lucky stars. I didn't even go down to the store to watch Dad with Mrs. Omed or Jennifer. Partly, I didn't want to get caught and partly I just wasn't interested in watching Dad abuse women that way, whether they seemed to like it or not. I thought I wanted was disgusting to force a woman to do one's will.
By the second week, I wasn't so pleased. I was sure Mom suspected me. She kept looking at me with that weird expression on her face. I had become adept at catching her looking at me in various reflective surfaces about the house. The strange thing was, even though Mom knew Dad wasn't visiting her and really was ignoring like always, she continued to dress nicely and do her make-up. That was a plus anyway; Mom seemed to have been permanently lifted from her depression. Maybe it had all been worth it after all.
But the strange looks continued but one day I caught Mom looking with a different expression on her face. It was softer and no longer angry, more curious than horrified, and I found that more disconcerting. What did it mean?
Despite Mom's continued care with her appearance, I had been careful not to compliment her or even mention anything about the way she dressed or looked. Mom must have missed it because she began specifically asking me about this or that piece of clothing, which shoes I thought would go better with a certain dress, whether her lipstick was the right color, and whether or not I liked her hair which had now grown almost long enough to touch her shoulders. Mom was continually drawing my attention to her and, though it made me nervous at first, I grew to like it. Soon, I was making unsolicited complimentary remarks about Mom's appearance. One day, while we were sitting on the couch waiting for Dad to come home for supper, I complimented Mom on her new shoes.
"You always did notice my feet, even when you were little."
The comment startled me so I queried her for more detail.
"I always liked your feet?"
"Yes," Mom laughed. "When you were little, you used to play with them."
"I did?"
"Yes. First you were fascinated that I painted my toenails and you wanted to have yours painted too. You were quite particular about the colors. Don't you remember me telling you not to let your Dad see?"
I shook my head.
"Then you just liked to play with my feet. You would rub them for ages."
I thought about how I had kissed Mom's toes and licked the bottom of her soles. Had I given myself away somehow even before Alice visited the store? Had Mom sent Alice to the store to see if I was there, looking for corroboration of already developed suspicions? Was she trying to trap me now?
"I don't remember that Mom."
Mom stretched her leg out toward me and put her foot on the couch.
"Tell me if you like the color."
I looked at Mom's blue shoe.
"Yeah, it's okay."
"Not the shoe, silly. My toenails."
"I can't see them."
"Well, take my shoe off."
Mom wiggled her foot.
Reluctantly, afraid of somehow giving myself away, I pulled the shoe off Mom's foot. Her toenails were painted a color somewhere between orange and red.
"No, I don't like the color."
Mom looked disappointed.
"Really? That was your favorite color when you were little."
Just then, Dad's car pulled into the driveway and Mom pulled her foot away. She leaned down and put the shoe back on her foot before getting up to greet Dad at the door.
Nothing else was said that day about Mom's toenails but I couldn't stop thinking about it and wondering why she had brought up the subject of me liking her feet when I was a kid. It was weird and it made me nervous.
I had a hard time getting to sleep that night. I had been deathly afraid if Mom's suspicions were confirmed in her mind that I would be kicked out of the house and be disowned. Now, I was scared that her suspicions had been confirmed and nothing bad was going to happen to me, and that Mom might in fact have been flattered if not pleased by the attention. Could this be?
Although the prospect of Mom being pleased had its obvious rewards, it was scary new territory. It was one thing to sneak up on Mom from behind under the protection of anonymity, but quite another to look her honestly in the face with my desires.
I managed to get to sleep but only after convincing myself that Mom had only been regarding me with strange looks because I had been complimenting her and had then ceased. She probably believed, I reasoned, that I had noticed her buoyant mood, revived looks, and renewed attention to Dad, without observing anything that would motivate
such a change. Therefore, I must suspect her of having an affair. In fact, hadn't I provide opportunities by making it clear, perhaps overly so, that I would be gone for hours on end in the afternoons and evenings? Maybe Mom thought I was spying on her to confirm my own suspicions and had in fact witnessed a visit by her mysterious lover. Maybe she even thought I was jealous.
That was it. My near incestuous, at least technically in my mind, indiscretion was still undiscovered. I was safe.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Mom went shopping the next day and came home with a ton of stuff including skirts, blouses, dresses, pants, shoes, and under things. I thought she was being kind of obvious but then, given Dad and I didn't get along, and the fact that I hadn't said anything, why should she worry?
Mom went upstairs with most of her stuff and had a long bath, then called me to ask if I could bring up some bags she had forgotten to take upstairs. When I entered her bedroom, she was sitting on her bed, wearing a terry cloth robe, and had her feet on a towel spread over the covers with spacers between her toes, ready to do her toenails.
"Oh, thanks Rob. Hey while you're here, help me pick out a nice color for my toes."
I was stuck. Mom showed me several colors and asked me to pick one. Then, she asked me to stay until it dried a bit to make sure it still looked good. So I sat on the bed and watched Mom paint her toes and looked at her legs which looked so fine fresh out of a hot bath. I kept wondering if she was wearing anything under the fluffy robe and became convinced she wasn't. I wondered if Mom had brought up the whole feet thing because she wanted to reward me for not spilling the beans on her and what she would think of it if she knew I was thinking about her being naked under her robe.
Although Mom did a perfect job on the first foot, she insisted she had made a mess of it and asked me to do the other one. Although the terry cloth robe was clasped demurely about Mom's knees, it gapped open under her thighs and I was treated to a wonderful vista for about ten minutes, not to mention the perfumed scent of her freshly washed skin. I found myself wondering how I could reinitiate our afternoon adventures rather than being thankful that they had stopped without me getting caught. Not only did I get a boner, my skin tingled now that I was convinced Mom was naked under a robe in such close proximity to me.
Mom's new blouses were form fitting affairs that were conservative in style but emphasized the feminine nature of her figure. The skirt she put on was heavily pleated and accented the sway of her hips when she walked. The outfit personified muted sexuality.
It was a Friday night and Dad was only home for a quick dinner. Despite that, I finished eating first and excused myself before heading for my room. I hadn't quite got to the top of the stairs when I heard Mom asking Dad, rather loudly, if he was coming home early.
"No, we need to start the inventory early so I'll actually be quite late tonight."
Yeah right, I thought. Is it Mrs. Omed or Jennifer, or have you started on someone new already?
"You're sure?" Mom asked. "I went shopping today was going to give you a fashion show."
Mom knew this would irk Dad because he always wanted her to get her clothes from the store where they could be purchased wholesale but Mom insisted on patronizing other stores with the excuse that would encourage them to reciprocate. The truth was, Mom didn't like the clothes in our store.
Dad held himself in check and answered in an even tone, "I'm sorry sweetheart, but the inventory has to get done."
"That's alright, I understand."
I had the distinct impression that the whole query had been for my benefit, that Mom was sending a signal to me that she wanted to be alone tonight, and this was confirmed by Mom's first question after I came back downstairs. She was sitting on the couch watching TV and I sat in Dad's chair to watch too. For some reason, teenaged rebelliousness no doubt, I wanted to make her specifically ask for time to indulge her dalliance.
"Are you going out tonight, Rob?"
That was another thing. Mom never called me 'Robbie' anymore, it was always 'Rob' now.
"Uh, I'm not sure. Why?"
"I was just wondering." There was a long pause, then Mom added, "I think your father might be coming home early so we can spend some time together." Mom kept her gaze fixed on the TV.
"Oh."
Even without overhearing her earlier conversation with Dad, I would have been able to tell Mom was lying. I didn't say anything more because I was thinking about how lousy Mom was at having an affair and she spoke before I could respond.
"I guess you can have the TV then because I think I'll go upstairs and read until your father comes home."
Mom got up and handed me the remote, then started for the stairs.
"Mom?"
"Yes?" She turned around.
"I think maybe I will go out. Do you mind?"
Mom smiled. "No, not at all. Will you be late?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Okay dear. Then I'll see you in the morning."
Mom came back and leaned over to give me a kiss on the forehead and I started to react the instant her jostling blouse hung in front of my face. I turned the TV off before Mom got to the top of the stairs so Mom would know I was leaving right away. I left shortly after and drove to my usual parking spot but sat there for almost an hour, thinking.
So Mom had figured out that Dad wasn't her surprise lover but she didn't know who it really was. How could she? Yet, she was still willing, even eager, to experience another visit. How did she know 'he' would come tonight? Did she suspect another merchant that knew her and Dad, or at least, someone who worked downtown and would know when Dad was working? It couldn't be someone from the store because Dad was the only male there but maybe it was someone's husband. Sure, maybe she knew about Dad's indiscretions and thought an injured husband was getting back at him.
I was quite eager when I crawled through my bedroom window and stripped off my clothes. I was now confident that I wasn't under suspicion. The hallway was dark and the downstairs lights were off too. Mom must have gone down after I left and turned them off. I crept down the hall and listened at Mom's open door. There were no "Mmmmm's" or DVD porno sounds coming from Mom's bedroom, only some softly playing classical music. The main light was turned off and the room was lit by the light of a single bedside lamp. Mom was lying on the bed, on top of the covers, dressed in the white terry cloth robe she had worn that afternoon while doing her toenails.
Mom was lying on her back! No camisole and half spread legs, no upturned, ready-for-action ass? She looked like she was ready to confront her secret lover, face to face. I peeked into the room again. Mom looked like she was actually sleeping. Ahhh, she was wearing the sleep mask. That was a good sign. Maybe she wasn't intending to confront her lover, but was it enough to gamble everything on?
Part of my mind told me to run back to my room but another part, driven by a far less rational engine, told me to get in there and give my mother, the woman I loved, what she needed and deserved.
I chickened out.
That's why I was so startled when my feet carried me into Mom's room while my mind was still telling me to run the whole time I came closer and closer to Mom's bed.
Her toes. I think that's what made me stay. Mom's legs, from the knees down anyway, looked like they had been lightly oiled and her toes glistened with a glossy black coating. I stood there, stark naked with my cock already hard and sticking out, and stared at Mom. If I was wrong, the sleeping mask could be swept up on her forehead before I could move a muscle and I would be doomed.
I stepped close to the bed and tentatively touched Mom's toes. She barely flinched so I knew she was expecting someone, but who? The only way for her to know was to remove the mask. Or was it?
Mom might want sex regardless of who was here and she actually prefer not to know who it was. Maybe she was lying on her back simply because she was tired of taking it from behind, or didn't want to get it in the ass.
I grazed my fingertips down from Mom`s toes along the top of each foot, around her ankles to the side of her inner heels, and scratched up the center of her soles. I was pleased when Mom turned her feet outward to make it easier for me to touch the bottom of her feet and wiggled to settle herself deeper in the mattress. She gave no indication that she wanted to remove her mask.
I tickled Mom`s feet for a while, then moved up to caress her lower legs. When it was time to move above her knees I thought about opening her legs to make room for me to climb on the bed but changed my mind and crawled up with my knees straddling her legs. Parting Mom's legs would be an overtly sexual act and I wanted to maintain an air of innocence for a while for the benefit of my blindfolded mother. I was learning that anticipation was a large part of sexual enjoyment, something I don't think my father yet knew.
I fluttered my fingers over Mom's lower thighs as delicately as I could. As I moved higher, the front of the robe parted, exposing more and more of her upper legs. When I reached the thicker part of Mom's thighs, my fingers couldn't progress but Mom smiled and opened her legs enough to allow access. I pushed my open hands between Mom's legs, caressing the softest skin on her body. Sensing the heat from her nearby pussy, my cock hardened into steel and the tip fluttered with sensations as if I was touching it instead of Mom's inner thighs.
Mom wasn't wearing any panties and I noticed that her pussy had been completely shaved.
I reversed my hands and grazed the top of my fingernails near the sides of Mom's bald pussy and then traced the crease leading to her hips, pushing the robe apart before me. The robe was hindered by the belt so I undid the knot holding it and parted the robe to reveal Mom's bare breasts. Her nipples were trembling with more excitement than her slightly enhanced breath indicated she was experiencing.
Taking each between the finger and thumb of each hand, I stretched my knees out behind me and lowered my face until I was able to suck Mom's pubic lips into my mouth. My tongue found her groove and plowed up through her slit, wiggling from side to side on the backswing. I lapped through Mom's slit for several minutes, remembering to pull lightly on her nipples. Gradually, Mom's responses to my mouth increased in intensity and when the tip of my tongue found her inner hole on a gentle upswing of her hips, I pushed it deep inside.
"Ohhhhhhh Godddd!" Mom cried, twisting her hips and lunging against my face.
I teased Mom for ages with my lips and tongue. I had watched many porno flicks on the Internet and noticed that the actors only licked a woman for a few minutes before climbing aboard to satisfy themselves. Instead, I took Mom through to a complete orgasm and for the first time experienced the joy of an ecstatic woman clutching my head and uncontrollably grinding her pussy on my face, a woman totally abandoned to an all-consuming orgasm.
After Mom settled back into the bed, I crawled atop her body and kissed her full on the lips. Within seconds, we were locked in the most intense necking session I had ever experienced. Mom showed me what kissing was all about.
I was so engrossed that I didn't realize until the act was accomplished that Mom's arms had curled about my neck, her legs were wrapped around my waist, and her heels were digging into my ass. My cock skidded repeatedly over Mom's wet pussy and, with a deft movement of her hips, the head slipped inside Mom's pussy.
"Make love to me," Mom whispered as soon as my mouth pulled away from hers.
I panicked and tried to pull away but Mom, legs tightening and feet pressing into my ass, lifted herself up with me and my action only served to deepen the penetration of my cock into its maternal home. The sensation was exquisite. Her walls molded to my shaft and slid past it, a pulsing coat of moist heat.
"Love me, baby," Mom cried.
Deeper, deeper, until I was all the way in and I felt Mom's pussy lips pressing against my pelvis, gripping the root of my incredibly hard cock.
"Ohhhhhh baby, you're so big. I need it, I need you. Fuck me, please fuck me."
Mom's hips were moving, humping up against my weight, forcing me even deeper within her womb. Her hand was moving through my hair while the other scratched my back and her arms held me so tight there was little choice but to do what she said.
"Ohhhh yeah, fuck me, baby," Mom whimpered.
I gave in. My hips started moving, succumbing to her urgency and superseding it with my own, driving her harder and harder.
"Oh yes, do it hard," Mom urged. "I love it, love it."
I lost myself within her, throwing off all constraint in a frenzied fuck, pounding and pounding, amazed that I wasn't coming, thrusting harder and harder, wondering why she wasn't complaining and trying to slow me down instead of urging me on, faster and faster, whispering in my ear, saying nothing, just moaning and grunting with me.
When I finally came, Mom lowered her legs and locked them around the back of my thighs.
As I strained my muscles, flexing my body against hers, still grunting my bliss and pouring my liquid pleasure within her, Mom ensured that not a single drop escaped
capture.
"Fill me baby," she rasped several times in quick succession.
We enjoyed a long, languid kiss when I had recaptured my breath and then I pulled away, holding her hands in mine until they slipped away. I backed out of the room, watching Mom, less afraid of her removing the mask than not wanting to tear my eyes away from her sated body until the last moment.
********
...to be continued
Update - 8
********
The next morning Mom filled my plate with pancakes before serving Dad and my glass was filled with juice before his coffee was served. Dad didn't notice but I did. Mom didn't speak to me any differently, nor were her interactions abnormal, other than serving me first. Yet, there was something that made me hyper aware of her. It was a sexual awareness so intense it felt like a physical presence but Mom hadn't made any overt movements nor did she strike any suggestive poses. If a camera had recorded the scene, I'm sure there would have been no visual evidence of inappropriate behavior.
But something had triggered my awareness and, even though I couldn't put my finger on it, I knew it was there. Since I couldn't point to anything specific, I assumed it was simply a side-effect of the afterglow from Mom's visit the previous evening and possibly her subliminal appreciation of my part in making it happen, that is, making myself scarce.
After Dad left Mom went upstairs. Fifteen minutes later she was back, wearing a different outfit. Though subdued, it modeled her figure very well and its rather conservative lines heightened rather than diminished her sexuality. I knew then that Mom knew I was aware that she was having an affair and that even though my tacit support wasn't openly acknowledged, it was appreciated. It was interesting that the way Mom chose to show her appreciation was to dress nicely, even seductively, for me. Besides looking physically attractive, Mom appeared fresh-faced, alive, and full of zest.
"You look very nice, Mom. Are you going somewhere special?"
"Just out with some friends for lunch and a little shopping."
"Oh. Well, have a good time."
"I will, and speaking of that, are you going out again tonight?"
I didn't hesitate, "Yes," I replied.
"Oh, that's too bad. I was hoping you could help your father so he could get away to come home earlier tonight."
"Sorry Mom."
She smiled. "Not to worry. He might be able to get away. He said he'd try anyway."
That night, after our first fuck, which I tried to make tender and gentle, and failed again due to Mom's urging, I pushed her legs up and bent then back onto her chest before entering her for a second fuck. I straddled her haunches and dug in deep, triggering an answering grunt that wasn't entirely unappreciative.
"Oohhh, you're so big tonight," she cooed.
I loved that Mom said that, and I loved the way her body bounced off the bed after we had struck our rhythm, impaling her pussy upon my cock, and I loved the sound of our thighs slapping so noisily together they nearly drowned out our love sounds.
The third fuck was slow and gentle, a fuck both intense and restrained, full of tender touches and kissing, a fuck that really was making love and, when I finally reached orgasm, emptying my milk into Mom's womb was an extended affair.
That was probably the best Saturday night of my life.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The next day was Sunday so there was no opportunity substitute myself for a supposed lover's visit since the store was closed. However, Mom was especially attentive to me all morning and when she asked me to drive her to the mall to do some shopping I agreed right away although there wasn't anything wrong with her car. In fact, we drove there in it.
I had thought Mom was going grocery shopping and wanted help carrying the bags so when she drove past the grocery store I thought she just wanted to get the food last, which made sense. Mom browsed through a ton of stores. Normally, I would have been quite impatient but I simply tagged along, happy to be with her. I had ample opportunity, toddling along behind, to watch Mom's supple figure moving enticingly under her summer dress.
Mom browsed through several clothing stores but only tried on two things, a brown dress and a navy blue skirt. She emerged from the dressing room in the dress to check herself out in the mirror, preened about without comment and returned, presumably to try on the skirt next. A minute later, Mom called me to the fitting room door and, after asking if anyone was out there but me and hearing my negative reply, she opened the door.
"What do you think? Is it nice?"
Mom had replaced the dress with the navy blue skirt and was wearing only a bra on top. I guess since Mom had worn a dress into the store, she couldn't come out to see what it looked like in the mirror. I was tongue-tied but Mom ignored my predicament, twisting her hips this way and that to model the skirt.
"How does it hang?" she asked, turning half around.
Recovering quickly, I gave serious attention to the way the skirt hung over Mom's behind and said it looked great.
"Do you think I should get it?"
"Yes."
"Okay, thanks."
Mom closed the door. She bought the skirt but not the dress and we continued shopping.
The funny thing was, although the incident could be seen as provocative it could also be interpreted as completely innocent. I had seen Mom in her bra before and had certainly seen her often in two-piece bathing suits. However, given what had been going on in our house, I interpreted the incident as anything but innocent which both thrilled and unnerved me. It added weight to my theory that Mom's interludes had put her in a heightened state of sexuality and thus she hadn't given a second thought to the fact that she wasn't wearing a blouse when she asked me about the skirt. It was, in fact, an innocent act.
My thoughts, however, were anything but. I racked my brain for an excuse to be with Mom that night but came up empty. I may have been distracted by the expanse of crossed leg that Mom managed to display as sipped her coffee when we stopped to have a snack.
I was the only one able to witness the show except for the one man who walked by us to use the washroom. He made it quite obvious that turning his head was well worth the effort. Mom didn't look at him but smiled at me when he looked at her. It sent my insides aflutter that Mom knew what she was doing, was aware of the effect it had on the man, and wasn't bothered that I witnessed it. Nor did she cover up her legs then or afterwards.
We visited a few more stores and then returned to the car. Mom waited for me to open the door for her instead of simply unlocking it remotely with the key chain. I clued in after a few seconds and ran around to let her in and was glad I did when she treated me to a wonderful look at her thighs as she dipped to get into the car. Again, I asked myself if that was done on purpose or if it was simply unavoidable when getting into a car in a tight dress. I hadn't been on that side of the car when we left the house, so I didn't know. I drove around to the grocery store but Mom said she was tired of shopping and wanted to go home.
That night, Mom wore her new skirt. We sat for quite a while watching TV while Dad read before Mom switched to a book too. Another long period went by before Mom changed the position of her legs and folded them underneath herself, stretching her left foot out on the couch toward me. Even though I was into one of my favorite shows, I was aware of its proximity. It stopped just short of my leg but a moment or two later, Mom's foot poked me just above the knee. I reached out to still her annoying foot.
I didn't intend to rub her foot and wasn't aware of quite when I started. I happened to notice during a commercial when I looked down to see my fingers wrapped around the top of Mom's foot and my thumb rubbing her instep in a small circle. As I watched, my thumb began scratching a firmer path the length of Mom's foot. This continued for several minutes until Mom changed pages and lifted the book from her lap as she shifted her weight to make herself more comfortable. Although she pulled her foot away to do this, it soon returned and shortly thereafter, I resumed my deliberate massage of her sole.
Mom's toes started scratching the side of my leg. Just once at first and then again a minute later. I kept rubbing her foot and her toes scratched my leg more often. After a bit, I looked at Mom, thinking she might be trying to catch my attention without saying anything, but she was intently focused on her book. Mine, however, became riveted on Mom's skirt, or rather, where it should have been. The wide hem of the pleated skirt had swept up onto Mom's leg, exposing almost the entire expanse of the underside of her thigh though the top, visible from Dad's perspective, was properly covered.
I couldn't believe it. Mom's toes scratched my leg again and I was convinced she had both uncovered her thigh and poked me on purpose but the way she continued reading, oblivious of all around her, produced doubts and I became convinced it was simply another innocent accident, just like the incident in the dressing room. I extended the reach of my thumb to tickle the underside of Mom's toes and she shifted her leg slightly so that her thigh twisted up, exposing even more leg and even providing a glimpse of her panties.
It must have been fifteen minutes later that I became aware of Mom looking at me. I raised my eyes to meet hers, too far gone to be self-conscious about being caught in my obvious adoration. Mom was smiling, not a teasing smile, but one that was faint and hard to interpret.
"Would you like some tea and cookies for a snack?"
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
Mom's smile widened and she put her book on the arm of the couch. As she got up the skirt fell over her legs and I was left wondering if the whole incident had even happened, a raging boner the only evidence that it really had. Nothing else happened that night. When Mom returned with tea and snacks, she didn't lift her foot back onto the couch and, consequently, there was no further display of her leg.
The next day Mom was less attentive to me, switching her appreciation to Dad who arrived downstairs sooner than me. This made me think that I was right in believing her previous consideration was the result of heightened sexual awareness generated from her lover's visits, that the attention to me or to Dad was the result of guilt, and the target was simply whoever was nearest at the time.
That morning I helped Mom with the grocery shopping and was treated to a leggy display both getting in and out of the car. After lunch at home I told Mom I had to go out for the afternoon. I parked the car in the usual place and sneaked into my room, undressed, and crept down the hall to peek into Mom's room.
She was lying on her back again but this time was naked except for the sleeping mask.
Approaching confidently without fear that Mom would open her eyes, I knelt on the floor at the end of the bed. There, I breathed quietly on the soles of Mom's feet for a couple of minutes. Her breath immediately became more shallow, as if anticipating an imminent action and her toes, now painted in a coral color, curled in appreciation.
Delicately, I stretched out my tongue and traced the sole of her right foot from heel to toes and then ran the tip sideways along the crease at the base of her toes.
Knowing Mom expected me to repeat the caress on the other foot, I stood, leaned over, and kissed the inside of Mom's left leg just below the knee. She moved her knees apart in surprise and I used the opportunity to shift her feet wider apart. Lowering my face close to her pelvis, I breathed on Mom's pussy the same way I had breathed on her foot.
This time, I made Mom wait longer before flicking my tongue out to find and trace the groove between her lips, then flicked sideways several times before piercing through to her inner sanctum. Mom opened her legs wider in anticipation of an imminent munching episode but instead I crawled over her and held myself in push-up ready stance, hovering over the full length of Mom's body.
I lowered myself until my chest was brushing Mom's nipples and arched my back so the tip of my cock dangled onto her mound. Holding myself there was difficult but Mom
eventually realized I was waiting for her to react. Lifting her ass, Mom searched for and found my cock with her open slit and pushed until the head slipped into her cunt.
Still, I held my ground. Slowly, Mom starting fucking, pushing her hips up until my entire shaft was embedded within her. I held my ground and Mom started flexing her hips up and down in a steady rhythm. Her hands soon flattened under her ass, palms up, to assist her lift. We fucked like that until we were both gasping with pleasure and Mom additionally with effort.
At last, I took pity on her, scooped her legs up by threading my elbows under her knees and pushed them back onto her chest, then started a very serious, pounding fuck. Mom was very wet and the lovely sound of wet, slapping flesh filled the room. When I came, I remained deep within Mom's pussy and, for her part, she twisted around until she wrung every drop out of me. I collapsed on top of her and lay still, panting, until I could breathe normally. We fucked again about half an hour later and then I left.
Every day that week, I visited Mom in the afternoon for similar fucks and twice, on Thursday and Friday, I also visited her at night, taking her twice from behind. I wasn't so surprised by my stamina, having masturbated nightly for years, but I was by Mom's. I read up on it on the Internet and found that it wasn't abnormal for a mature woman to be capable of having sex daily, especially if she hadn't been very active for a long period.
Strangely, Mom reverted to not paying much attention to me, or to Dad, and the foot game was not re-enacted.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
On Saturday afternoon, I visited Mom again. I hadn't expected to have the opportunity until the evening but Mom took the lead.
"I'm feeling a little tired, Rob. I think I'll go upstairs for a nap," she announced.
"Oh, sure, okay Mom," I responded.
Mom turned half way up the stairs. "If your father comes home, could let him know I'm having a nap?"
"Uh, I'm going out Mom. Maybe I'll go down to the store to see if I can help out."
"Oh. Would you mind leaving him a note then in case he misses you?"
"Sure."
Mom went upstairs and I sat downstairs pondering my options. Clearly, Mom wasn't expecting Dad and since I had convinced myself that she knew that I knew something was going on, this was her signal that her lover was coming and I should leave.
Could I really wait for a while and slip upstairs for a quickie, again pretending to be her lover? I couldn't make up my mind but in the end horniness won the day. I opened and closed the door, then sat for another ten minutes. Instead of going through the motions of moving the car and sneaking into my room, I simply opened and closed the door again, then crept up the stairs and peeked into Mom's bedroom. Sure enough, there she was, nude, lying on her back with legs open and knees already bent and lifted. She was ready to be eaten or fucked and probably in that order.
I continued to my room, doffed my clothes, and returned to the hallway. For some reason, it struck me that I should be using a condom but I hadn't up to that point, so what was the point? Mom must be taking care of that because she seemed eager to soak up all my jism. She must have some idea of who she thought her lover was, and that he was fixed and therefore probably married and not requiring precautions, because otherwise the consequences were dire.
A sinking feeling overwhelmed me, leaving me light in the head, and I almost fell against the wall. Returning to my bedroom, I found the rubber in the back of my drawer that I had bought a couple of years earlier, unnecessarily of course, for my first date with Margaret Wenton. I put it on, somewhat surprised that it didn't disintegrate from age. Suitably armed, I turned back toward Mom's bedroom, intent on completing my mission.
I gave Mom's feet a damn good licking before dragging my tongue leisurely up her legs. My fingers held her nipples as I sank my tongue deep between her lips and started lapping up her effluent. Throughout all my prior experimentation, I had found that Mom liked to be lapped. I kept it up, eventually used a finger to assist, until Mom reached her first orgasm. I had also found that Mom was more pliable if I first ate her out without hurrying.
Climbing aboard, I crawled over Mom's chest and pushed my cock into her waiting mouth. Taking my time, I slowly began fucking her face as I adjusted the pillow behind her head to keep it up at a conducive angle. Several times I almost displaced the sleeping mask and once Mom beat me to it to push it back into place. This had happened earlier in the week and as a result I was no longer anxious about getting caught. When I was close to coming, I pulled out of Mom's mouth and slid down her body. She was already lifting her legs and holding them where it was easy for me to grab and push them onto her chest, rolling her butt up toward me so I could easily enter and pound on her pussy. Mom already knew what I, or 'her lover', liked.
About fifteen minutes later, I was finished and had almost recovered my breath when Mom tried to twist around onto her tummy. I lifted my weight so she could move, then settled onto her ass. My cock had embedded itself in her crack and, despite my recent orgasm, began to get interested again. It had been a long time since the one time Mom had let me in her ass. I had begun to think it had been a one-time opportunity but the way she was nudging back at my slowly stiffening cock, I started to hope that maybe it was simply a rare event.
Soon, we were rubbing each other in mini-fuck movements and my cock was definitely hard and ready. I pulled it back until it slid off Mom's crack and then pushed it into her waiting, very wet pussy. Once inside, I started moving to and fro in very slow thrusts, secure in the knowledge that we both understood this was simply a primer and the big event would be a visit to the dark side. Man, I was so happy I had decided to come upstairs.
That's when everything changed.
Without breaking the slow rhythm we had settled into, Mom got up onto her elbows—which was easy because I had lifted up to brace myself on my arms and watch my cock moving in and out of Mom—reached under the pillow on the other side of the bed, and pulled out her cell phone. As I watched, stunned, she flipped the phone open at the same time she used her other hand to pull the mask off her head.
I was hovering, braced above Mom, my cock deep in her from behind, and she was selecting a number to call. Amazingly, I didn't stop fucking her. I don't know if it was self-preservation, knowing that hanging anything would call attention to me, or what. But my cock kept moving slowly in and out.
I recognized the number. She was calling the store!
Shit! Was she calling to check up on me? Why the fuck had I said I was going to the fucking store? Mom shook her head and lifted the phone to her ear. I heard the person answering quite clearly.
"Mr. Horlock, please," Mom responded.
"Just a moment, Mrs. Horlock.
Mom waited. I kept moving within her, my past flashing before my eyes.
"Yes?" barked my father.
I almost had a heart attack. Dad was obviously on the phone but his voice, so near, made it seem he was physically present, and able to see who was...
"Hello dear. I was just wondering if you wanted steak for dinner or fish?"
"Lisa, I'm very... uh, actually, I'm going to be late again tonight. Sorry."
"That's okay dear. Would you like me to keep something warm for you?"
"Uh, no. I'll get something, have something brought in."
"Okay dear. Bye."
"Lisa?"
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you this weekend."
"Oh that's alright dear. Rob will look after me. By now."
I almost choked on those words and I certainly missed a stroke.
"Bye," Dad's voice sounded more distant, as if he was already hanging up.
I heard Dad's chair swivel around, a sound I had become a familiar with, and the phone clattered onto the receiver on his desk. Mom put her cell phone on the bed but left it open. I could hear sounds coming from the phone. Dad had evidently not hung up the phone properly and the clatter I'd heard was likely it falling off the cradle. However, Dad must have already turned around in his chair because I'm sure he wouldn't have said what he did next if he knew the line was still open.
"Come on, get your mouth back on it."
My eyes almost bugged out of my head.
"That's it baby. See, you're getting the hang of it. Take it deep...hold it, hold it..."
There was a pop and a loud gasping for air.
"Yeah baby. I can't give you Christmas off but you can have the whole week after Thanksgiving."
There was a muffled, unintelligible sound.
"I thought you'd like that. I usually only let the Moms have Thanksgiving off but you do this so Well...yeah, hold it, hold it, hold it, fantastic...oh yeah!"
There was a louder popping sound and a more desperate grasp for air. Dad had found someone new.
Mom lowered her head onto the mattress and reached behind herself. She inched forward, dislodging herself from my cock and pulled her cheeks apart with both hands. I stared at the little whole, open to the size of a penny, already greased and ready to go.
Mom had planned this!
I pushed the tip of my cock into Mom's well-lubed bunghole and pushed. It sank inside easily but I waited for her ass to accommodate my bulk anyway. While listening to Dad getting his cock sucked, I slowly pushed my throbbing shaft into Mom's asshole. Her hands had returned to press palm down beside her shoulders and she turned to face the open cell phone just as I reached full depth. At that moment, Mom spoke directly at her phone in full voice as if I was across the room.
"I never let your father in my ass, so fuck it good."
There was no response from the cell phone other than the sound of Dad getting blown. Mom laughed and I started moving slowly in and out. I loved being in her tight ass but this was incredible. What a feeling, listening to Dad getting blown, watching my Mom catching him red-handed while she broadcast letting someone taking her in the ass. Could it get better than that?
Yes, actually it could. That someone was me, his son, her son, and she had obviously known all along it was me. Her laugh had relieved the shock of her revelation, that and the feel of her ass pulling on my cock. I did my best to make this the best fuck Mom had ever had. I don't know if I succeeded—it sounded like I didn't do too bad—but I hoped I did well enough.
A little fear niggled at my brain, that I wouldn't be able to keep Mom interested without the excitement of not knowing who was doing her, but I would have to worry about that later. Right now, there was a serious ass underneath me begging for more and Mom was moaning loudly, pulling the pillow over her head, and ignoring the phone like it didn't matter anymore. She was mine.
After we had finished, we showered together and went downstairs for dinner. Mom cooked a steak which we ate with baked potatoes and brussel sprouts, topped with a nice Merlot. We didn't leave anything for Dad. After dinner, we settled in to watch a movie together, cuddling on the couch. Just after the movie started Mom turned to me.
"Did you really think, Robert, that I would believe your father could take me three times in one night?"
She laughed, probably because she could see in my face that the thought that he couldn't hadn't occurred to me, as it wouldn't to any teenager. I imagine that I also looked like I thought I was still in trouble.
"Don't worry, I'm hardly going to tell your father, now am I, and anyway, isn't it obvious he never listens to me?"
We had a good belly laugh at that one. Sitting close together as we were, the laughter initiated tremors and that started things going again. We went upstairs.
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On Monday, I had sex with Mom as soon as Dad was out the door. He was still in the driveway when I lifted her skirt and entered her from behind, unable to slip her panties aside because she wasn't wearing any. The rest of that week taught me something new: older women can be very, very horny, and quite insatiable.
Our relationship grew from that point on and it was almost as if she and I were the couple and Dad was the third party. Dad continued spending most of his time at the store which left lots of time for Mom and I to be together, becoming more in tune with each other every day, and not just sexually. We often drove to the next town where we could be together without being recognized, if not unnoticed because of our age disparity. Life was good.
Then one of the women at the store quit and brought forth a complaint against Dad. At first, he weathered it by denigrating her and accusing her of theft but then a former employee added her own complaint, and another current employee joined the chorus, and then another. The publicity wrought a drop in sales with each new complaint and the legal bills, though initially nominal, threatened to become onerous.
Dad pretended there wasn't a problem and acted as if he was completely innocent, expressing anger that his generosity as an employer was met with such ingratitude. He was in complete denial and refused to believe the drop in sales was in any way related to the issue because 'his customers' would know the accusations were false. In the end, he handled the problem in his own way: he had a stroke, and that changed everything.
At first, it was an emotional shock because, despite his self-serving, abusive behavior he was still my father. Moreover, his constant presence in the house made it difficult for Mom and I to be together but that eventually changed. Since Dad seemed to be unaware of his surroundings, I took his place in Mom's bed and we put him in my room. If he was downstairs—we had a lift installed to let a wheelchair traverse the stairs—and the mood struck us, we simply wheeled him into another room. Dad wasn't capable of telling anyone even if he was aware and, let's face it, he wasn't exactly an innocent bystander. Once, we got carried away before wheeling Dad away and something about him convinced me that he knew what was happening but couldn't respond. Fuck him.
Through this three month period the store was managed by Mrs. Omed but despite her best efforts sales continued to slide and layoffs were imminent. In addition, the legal problems were steadily progressing and were definitely not in our favor. Something had to be done.
Mom and I returned to the store, she as manager and I as an assistant to Mrs. Omed. Our return had an amazing and unexpectedly positive effect, not because Mrs. Omed wasn't a competent manager, because she was, but due to a story printed in the local newspaper that changed everything. The editor of the paper, a personal friend of Mrs. Omed's, painted a picture of a beleaguered woman trying to save a business that was dying through no fault of her own. One of the complainants currently working at the store—the lawyer had strongly advised Dad not to fire them—stepped forward to plead with the public to help Mom because she was a victim of my heinous father too. It was none other than sweet, gentle Jennifer.
Everything changed within a week. Business was brisk, Jennifer dropped her complaint, and so did the other employees. A little later, the former employees also dropped their suits when it became plain that public favor had swung to the store because the financial hardship would fall upon Mom rather than my father.
We were able to afford a full time caretaker for Dad instead of leaving him at home alone: one of his former victims—I'm sure he was well taken care of while we were working at the store. Eventually, sales superseded previous records and Mom returned home but still kept the caretaker. I took Mom's place as nominal manager at the store but with the able assistance of Mrs. Omed as the new sales manager. The store became a real family business and I often came home—I never worked late—accompanied by Jennifer and sometimes Mrs. Omed.
********
...The End.
********
The next morning Mom filled my plate with pancakes before serving Dad and my glass was filled with juice before his coffee was served. Dad didn't notice but I did. Mom didn't speak to me any differently, nor were her interactions abnormal, other than serving me first. Yet, there was something that made me hyper aware of her. It was a sexual awareness so intense it felt like a physical presence but Mom hadn't made any overt movements nor did she strike any suggestive poses. If a camera had recorded the scene, I'm sure there would have been no visual evidence of inappropriate behavior.
But something had triggered my awareness and, even though I couldn't put my finger on it, I knew it was there. Since I couldn't point to anything specific, I assumed it was simply a side-effect of the afterglow from Mom's visit the previous evening and possibly her subliminal appreciation of my part in making it happen, that is, making myself scarce.
After Dad left Mom went upstairs. Fifteen minutes later she was back, wearing a different outfit. Though subdued, it modeled her figure very well and its rather conservative lines heightened rather than diminished her sexuality. I knew then that Mom knew I was aware that she was having an affair and that even though my tacit support wasn't openly acknowledged, it was appreciated. It was interesting that the way Mom chose to show her appreciation was to dress nicely, even seductively, for me. Besides looking physically attractive, Mom appeared fresh-faced, alive, and full of zest.
"You look very nice, Mom. Are you going somewhere special?"
"Just out with some friends for lunch and a little shopping."
"Oh. Well, have a good time."
"I will, and speaking of that, are you going out again tonight?"
I didn't hesitate, "Yes," I replied.
"Oh, that's too bad. I was hoping you could help your father so he could get away to come home earlier tonight."
"Sorry Mom."
She smiled. "Not to worry. He might be able to get away. He said he'd try anyway."
That night, after our first fuck, which I tried to make tender and gentle, and failed again due to Mom's urging, I pushed her legs up and bent then back onto her chest before entering her for a second fuck. I straddled her haunches and dug in deep, triggering an answering grunt that wasn't entirely unappreciative.
"Oohhh, you're so big tonight," she cooed.
I loved that Mom said that, and I loved the way her body bounced off the bed after we had struck our rhythm, impaling her pussy upon my cock, and I loved the sound of our thighs slapping so noisily together they nearly drowned out our love sounds.
The third fuck was slow and gentle, a fuck both intense and restrained, full of tender touches and kissing, a fuck that really was making love and, when I finally reached orgasm, emptying my milk into Mom's womb was an extended affair.
That was probably the best Saturday night of my life.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The next day was Sunday so there was no opportunity substitute myself for a supposed lover's visit since the store was closed. However, Mom was especially attentive to me all morning and when she asked me to drive her to the mall to do some shopping I agreed right away although there wasn't anything wrong with her car. In fact, we drove there in it.
I had thought Mom was going grocery shopping and wanted help carrying the bags so when she drove past the grocery store I thought she just wanted to get the food last, which made sense. Mom browsed through a ton of stores. Normally, I would have been quite impatient but I simply tagged along, happy to be with her. I had ample opportunity, toddling along behind, to watch Mom's supple figure moving enticingly under her summer dress.
Mom browsed through several clothing stores but only tried on two things, a brown dress and a navy blue skirt. She emerged from the dressing room in the dress to check herself out in the mirror, preened about without comment and returned, presumably to try on the skirt next. A minute later, Mom called me to the fitting room door and, after asking if anyone was out there but me and hearing my negative reply, she opened the door.
"What do you think? Is it nice?"
Mom had replaced the dress with the navy blue skirt and was wearing only a bra on top. I guess since Mom had worn a dress into the store, she couldn't come out to see what it looked like in the mirror. I was tongue-tied but Mom ignored my predicament, twisting her hips this way and that to model the skirt.
"How does it hang?" she asked, turning half around.
Recovering quickly, I gave serious attention to the way the skirt hung over Mom's behind and said it looked great.
"Do you think I should get it?"
"Yes."
"Okay, thanks."
Mom closed the door. She bought the skirt but not the dress and we continued shopping.
The funny thing was, although the incident could be seen as provocative it could also be interpreted as completely innocent. I had seen Mom in her bra before and had certainly seen her often in two-piece bathing suits. However, given what had been going on in our house, I interpreted the incident as anything but innocent which both thrilled and unnerved me. It added weight to my theory that Mom's interludes had put her in a heightened state of sexuality and thus she hadn't given a second thought to the fact that she wasn't wearing a blouse when she asked me about the skirt. It was, in fact, an innocent act.
My thoughts, however, were anything but. I racked my brain for an excuse to be with Mom that night but came up empty. I may have been distracted by the expanse of crossed leg that Mom managed to display as sipped her coffee when we stopped to have a snack.
I was the only one able to witness the show except for the one man who walked by us to use the washroom. He made it quite obvious that turning his head was well worth the effort. Mom didn't look at him but smiled at me when he looked at her. It sent my insides aflutter that Mom knew what she was doing, was aware of the effect it had on the man, and wasn't bothered that I witnessed it. Nor did she cover up her legs then or afterwards.
We visited a few more stores and then returned to the car. Mom waited for me to open the door for her instead of simply unlocking it remotely with the key chain. I clued in after a few seconds and ran around to let her in and was glad I did when she treated me to a wonderful look at her thighs as she dipped to get into the car. Again, I asked myself if that was done on purpose or if it was simply unavoidable when getting into a car in a tight dress. I hadn't been on that side of the car when we left the house, so I didn't know. I drove around to the grocery store but Mom said she was tired of shopping and wanted to go home.
That night, Mom wore her new skirt. We sat for quite a while watching TV while Dad read before Mom switched to a book too. Another long period went by before Mom changed the position of her legs and folded them underneath herself, stretching her left foot out on the couch toward me. Even though I was into one of my favorite shows, I was aware of its proximity. It stopped just short of my leg but a moment or two later, Mom's foot poked me just above the knee. I reached out to still her annoying foot.
I didn't intend to rub her foot and wasn't aware of quite when I started. I happened to notice during a commercial when I looked down to see my fingers wrapped around the top of Mom's foot and my thumb rubbing her instep in a small circle. As I watched, my thumb began scratching a firmer path the length of Mom's foot. This continued for several minutes until Mom changed pages and lifted the book from her lap as she shifted her weight to make herself more comfortable. Although she pulled her foot away to do this, it soon returned and shortly thereafter, I resumed my deliberate massage of her sole.
Mom's toes started scratching the side of my leg. Just once at first and then again a minute later. I kept rubbing her foot and her toes scratched my leg more often. After a bit, I looked at Mom, thinking she might be trying to catch my attention without saying anything, but she was intently focused on her book. Mine, however, became riveted on Mom's skirt, or rather, where it should have been. The wide hem of the pleated skirt had swept up onto Mom's leg, exposing almost the entire expanse of the underside of her thigh though the top, visible from Dad's perspective, was properly covered.
I couldn't believe it. Mom's toes scratched my leg again and I was convinced she had both uncovered her thigh and poked me on purpose but the way she continued reading, oblivious of all around her, produced doubts and I became convinced it was simply another innocent accident, just like the incident in the dressing room. I extended the reach of my thumb to tickle the underside of Mom's toes and she shifted her leg slightly so that her thigh twisted up, exposing even more leg and even providing a glimpse of her panties.
It must have been fifteen minutes later that I became aware of Mom looking at me. I raised my eyes to meet hers, too far gone to be self-conscious about being caught in my obvious adoration. Mom was smiling, not a teasing smile, but one that was faint and hard to interpret.
"Would you like some tea and cookies for a snack?"
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
Mom's smile widened and she put her book on the arm of the couch. As she got up the skirt fell over her legs and I was left wondering if the whole incident had even happened, a raging boner the only evidence that it really had. Nothing else happened that night. When Mom returned with tea and snacks, she didn't lift her foot back onto the couch and, consequently, there was no further display of her leg.
The next day Mom was less attentive to me, switching her appreciation to Dad who arrived downstairs sooner than me. This made me think that I was right in believing her previous consideration was the result of heightened sexual awareness generated from her lover's visits, that the attention to me or to Dad was the result of guilt, and the target was simply whoever was nearest at the time.
That morning I helped Mom with the grocery shopping and was treated to a leggy display both getting in and out of the car. After lunch at home I told Mom I had to go out for the afternoon. I parked the car in the usual place and sneaked into my room, undressed, and crept down the hall to peek into Mom's room.
She was lying on her back again but this time was naked except for the sleeping mask.
Approaching confidently without fear that Mom would open her eyes, I knelt on the floor at the end of the bed. There, I breathed quietly on the soles of Mom's feet for a couple of minutes. Her breath immediately became more shallow, as if anticipating an imminent action and her toes, now painted in a coral color, curled in appreciation.
Delicately, I stretched out my tongue and traced the sole of her right foot from heel to toes and then ran the tip sideways along the crease at the base of her toes.
Knowing Mom expected me to repeat the caress on the other foot, I stood, leaned over, and kissed the inside of Mom's left leg just below the knee. She moved her knees apart in surprise and I used the opportunity to shift her feet wider apart. Lowering my face close to her pelvis, I breathed on Mom's pussy the same way I had breathed on her foot.
This time, I made Mom wait longer before flicking my tongue out to find and trace the groove between her lips, then flicked sideways several times before piercing through to her inner sanctum. Mom opened her legs wider in anticipation of an imminent munching episode but instead I crawled over her and held myself in push-up ready stance, hovering over the full length of Mom's body.
I lowered myself until my chest was brushing Mom's nipples and arched my back so the tip of my cock dangled onto her mound. Holding myself there was difficult but Mom
eventually realized I was waiting for her to react. Lifting her ass, Mom searched for and found my cock with her open slit and pushed until the head slipped into her cunt.
Still, I held my ground. Slowly, Mom starting fucking, pushing her hips up until my entire shaft was embedded within her. I held my ground and Mom started flexing her hips up and down in a steady rhythm. Her hands soon flattened under her ass, palms up, to assist her lift. We fucked like that until we were both gasping with pleasure and Mom additionally with effort.
At last, I took pity on her, scooped her legs up by threading my elbows under her knees and pushed them back onto her chest, then started a very serious, pounding fuck. Mom was very wet and the lovely sound of wet, slapping flesh filled the room. When I came, I remained deep within Mom's pussy and, for her part, she twisted around until she wrung every drop out of me. I collapsed on top of her and lay still, panting, until I could breathe normally. We fucked again about half an hour later and then I left.
Every day that week, I visited Mom in the afternoon for similar fucks and twice, on Thursday and Friday, I also visited her at night, taking her twice from behind. I wasn't so surprised by my stamina, having masturbated nightly for years, but I was by Mom's. I read up on it on the Internet and found that it wasn't abnormal for a mature woman to be capable of having sex daily, especially if she hadn't been very active for a long period.
Strangely, Mom reverted to not paying much attention to me, or to Dad, and the foot game was not re-enacted.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
On Saturday afternoon, I visited Mom again. I hadn't expected to have the opportunity until the evening but Mom took the lead.
"I'm feeling a little tired, Rob. I think I'll go upstairs for a nap," she announced.
"Oh, sure, okay Mom," I responded.
Mom turned half way up the stairs. "If your father comes home, could let him know I'm having a nap?"
"Uh, I'm going out Mom. Maybe I'll go down to the store to see if I can help out."
"Oh. Would you mind leaving him a note then in case he misses you?"
"Sure."
Mom went upstairs and I sat downstairs pondering my options. Clearly, Mom wasn't expecting Dad and since I had convinced myself that she knew that I knew something was going on, this was her signal that her lover was coming and I should leave.
Could I really wait for a while and slip upstairs for a quickie, again pretending to be her lover? I couldn't make up my mind but in the end horniness won the day. I opened and closed the door, then sat for another ten minutes. Instead of going through the motions of moving the car and sneaking into my room, I simply opened and closed the door again, then crept up the stairs and peeked into Mom's bedroom. Sure enough, there she was, nude, lying on her back with legs open and knees already bent and lifted. She was ready to be eaten or fucked and probably in that order.
I continued to my room, doffed my clothes, and returned to the hallway. For some reason, it struck me that I should be using a condom but I hadn't up to that point, so what was the point? Mom must be taking care of that because she seemed eager to soak up all my jism. She must have some idea of who she thought her lover was, and that he was fixed and therefore probably married and not requiring precautions, because otherwise the consequences were dire.
A sinking feeling overwhelmed me, leaving me light in the head, and I almost fell against the wall. Returning to my bedroom, I found the rubber in the back of my drawer that I had bought a couple of years earlier, unnecessarily of course, for my first date with Margaret Wenton. I put it on, somewhat surprised that it didn't disintegrate from age. Suitably armed, I turned back toward Mom's bedroom, intent on completing my mission.
I gave Mom's feet a damn good licking before dragging my tongue leisurely up her legs. My fingers held her nipples as I sank my tongue deep between her lips and started lapping up her effluent. Throughout all my prior experimentation, I had found that Mom liked to be lapped. I kept it up, eventually used a finger to assist, until Mom reached her first orgasm. I had also found that Mom was more pliable if I first ate her out without hurrying.
Climbing aboard, I crawled over Mom's chest and pushed my cock into her waiting mouth. Taking my time, I slowly began fucking her face as I adjusted the pillow behind her head to keep it up at a conducive angle. Several times I almost displaced the sleeping mask and once Mom beat me to it to push it back into place. This had happened earlier in the week and as a result I was no longer anxious about getting caught. When I was close to coming, I pulled out of Mom's mouth and slid down her body. She was already lifting her legs and holding them where it was easy for me to grab and push them onto her chest, rolling her butt up toward me so I could easily enter and pound on her pussy. Mom already knew what I, or 'her lover', liked.
About fifteen minutes later, I was finished and had almost recovered my breath when Mom tried to twist around onto her tummy. I lifted my weight so she could move, then settled onto her ass. My cock had embedded itself in her crack and, despite my recent orgasm, began to get interested again. It had been a long time since the one time Mom had let me in her ass. I had begun to think it had been a one-time opportunity but the way she was nudging back at my slowly stiffening cock, I started to hope that maybe it was simply a rare event.
Soon, we were rubbing each other in mini-fuck movements and my cock was definitely hard and ready. I pulled it back until it slid off Mom's crack and then pushed it into her waiting, very wet pussy. Once inside, I started moving to and fro in very slow thrusts, secure in the knowledge that we both understood this was simply a primer and the big event would be a visit to the dark side. Man, I was so happy I had decided to come upstairs.
That's when everything changed.
Without breaking the slow rhythm we had settled into, Mom got up onto her elbows—which was easy because I had lifted up to brace myself on my arms and watch my cock moving in and out of Mom—reached under the pillow on the other side of the bed, and pulled out her cell phone. As I watched, stunned, she flipped the phone open at the same time she used her other hand to pull the mask off her head.
I was hovering, braced above Mom, my cock deep in her from behind, and she was selecting a number to call. Amazingly, I didn't stop fucking her. I don't know if it was self-preservation, knowing that hanging anything would call attention to me, or what. But my cock kept moving slowly in and out.
I recognized the number. She was calling the store!
Shit! Was she calling to check up on me? Why the fuck had I said I was going to the fucking store? Mom shook her head and lifted the phone to her ear. I heard the person answering quite clearly.
"Mr. Horlock, please," Mom responded.
"Just a moment, Mrs. Horlock.
Mom waited. I kept moving within her, my past flashing before my eyes.
"Yes?" barked my father.
I almost had a heart attack. Dad was obviously on the phone but his voice, so near, made it seem he was physically present, and able to see who was...
"Hello dear. I was just wondering if you wanted steak for dinner or fish?"
"Lisa, I'm very... uh, actually, I'm going to be late again tonight. Sorry."
"That's okay dear. Would you like me to keep something warm for you?"
"Uh, no. I'll get something, have something brought in."
"Okay dear. Bye."
"Lisa?"
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you this weekend."
"Oh that's alright dear. Rob will look after me. By now."
I almost choked on those words and I certainly missed a stroke.
"Bye," Dad's voice sounded more distant, as if he was already hanging up.
I heard Dad's chair swivel around, a sound I had become a familiar with, and the phone clattered onto the receiver on his desk. Mom put her cell phone on the bed but left it open. I could hear sounds coming from the phone. Dad had evidently not hung up the phone properly and the clatter I'd heard was likely it falling off the cradle. However, Dad must have already turned around in his chair because I'm sure he wouldn't have said what he did next if he knew the line was still open.
"Come on, get your mouth back on it."
My eyes almost bugged out of my head.
"That's it baby. See, you're getting the hang of it. Take it deep...hold it, hold it..."
There was a pop and a loud gasping for air.
"Yeah baby. I can't give you Christmas off but you can have the whole week after Thanksgiving."
There was a muffled, unintelligible sound.
"I thought you'd like that. I usually only let the Moms have Thanksgiving off but you do this so Well...yeah, hold it, hold it, hold it, fantastic...oh yeah!"
There was a louder popping sound and a more desperate grasp for air. Dad had found someone new.
Mom lowered her head onto the mattress and reached behind herself. She inched forward, dislodging herself from my cock and pulled her cheeks apart with both hands. I stared at the little whole, open to the size of a penny, already greased and ready to go.
Mom had planned this!
I pushed the tip of my cock into Mom's well-lubed bunghole and pushed. It sank inside easily but I waited for her ass to accommodate my bulk anyway. While listening to Dad getting his cock sucked, I slowly pushed my throbbing shaft into Mom's asshole. Her hands had returned to press palm down beside her shoulders and she turned to face the open cell phone just as I reached full depth. At that moment, Mom spoke directly at her phone in full voice as if I was across the room.
"I never let your father in my ass, so fuck it good."
There was no response from the cell phone other than the sound of Dad getting blown. Mom laughed and I started moving slowly in and out. I loved being in her tight ass but this was incredible. What a feeling, listening to Dad getting blown, watching my Mom catching him red-handed while she broadcast letting someone taking her in the ass. Could it get better than that?
Yes, actually it could. That someone was me, his son, her son, and she had obviously known all along it was me. Her laugh had relieved the shock of her revelation, that and the feel of her ass pulling on my cock. I did my best to make this the best fuck Mom had ever had. I don't know if I succeeded—it sounded like I didn't do too bad—but I hoped I did well enough.
A little fear niggled at my brain, that I wouldn't be able to keep Mom interested without the excitement of not knowing who was doing her, but I would have to worry about that later. Right now, there was a serious ass underneath me begging for more and Mom was moaning loudly, pulling the pillow over her head, and ignoring the phone like it didn't matter anymore. She was mine.
After we had finished, we showered together and went downstairs for dinner. Mom cooked a steak which we ate with baked potatoes and brussel sprouts, topped with a nice Merlot. We didn't leave anything for Dad. After dinner, we settled in to watch a movie together, cuddling on the couch. Just after the movie started Mom turned to me.
"Did you really think, Robert, that I would believe your father could take me three times in one night?"
She laughed, probably because she could see in my face that the thought that he couldn't hadn't occurred to me, as it wouldn't to any teenager. I imagine that I also looked like I thought I was still in trouble.
"Don't worry, I'm hardly going to tell your father, now am I, and anyway, isn't it obvious he never listens to me?"
We had a good belly laugh at that one. Sitting close together as we were, the laughter initiated tremors and that started things going again. We went upstairs.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
On Monday, I had sex with Mom as soon as Dad was out the door. He was still in the driveway when I lifted her skirt and entered her from behind, unable to slip her panties aside because she wasn't wearing any. The rest of that week taught me something new: older women can be very, very horny, and quite insatiable.
Our relationship grew from that point on and it was almost as if she and I were the couple and Dad was the third party. Dad continued spending most of his time at the store which left lots of time for Mom and I to be together, becoming more in tune with each other every day, and not just sexually. We often drove to the next town where we could be together without being recognized, if not unnoticed because of our age disparity. Life was good.
Then one of the women at the store quit and brought forth a complaint against Dad. At first, he weathered it by denigrating her and accusing her of theft but then a former employee added her own complaint, and another current employee joined the chorus, and then another. The publicity wrought a drop in sales with each new complaint and the legal bills, though initially nominal, threatened to become onerous.
Dad pretended there wasn't a problem and acted as if he was completely innocent, expressing anger that his generosity as an employer was met with such ingratitude. He was in complete denial and refused to believe the drop in sales was in any way related to the issue because 'his customers' would know the accusations were false. In the end, he handled the problem in his own way: he had a stroke, and that changed everything.
At first, it was an emotional shock because, despite his self-serving, abusive behavior he was still my father. Moreover, his constant presence in the house made it difficult for Mom and I to be together but that eventually changed. Since Dad seemed to be unaware of his surroundings, I took his place in Mom's bed and we put him in my room. If he was downstairs—we had a lift installed to let a wheelchair traverse the stairs—and the mood struck us, we simply wheeled him into another room. Dad wasn't capable of telling anyone even if he was aware and, let's face it, he wasn't exactly an innocent bystander. Once, we got carried away before wheeling Dad away and something about him convinced me that he knew what was happening but couldn't respond. Fuck him.
Through this three month period the store was managed by Mrs. Omed but despite her best efforts sales continued to slide and layoffs were imminent. In addition, the legal problems were steadily progressing and were definitely not in our favor. Something had to be done.
Mom and I returned to the store, she as manager and I as an assistant to Mrs. Omed. Our return had an amazing and unexpectedly positive effect, not because Mrs. Omed wasn't a competent manager, because she was, but due to a story printed in the local newspaper that changed everything. The editor of the paper, a personal friend of Mrs. Omed's, painted a picture of a beleaguered woman trying to save a business that was dying through no fault of her own. One of the complainants currently working at the store—the lawyer had strongly advised Dad not to fire them—stepped forward to plead with the public to help Mom because she was a victim of my heinous father too. It was none other than sweet, gentle Jennifer.
Everything changed within a week. Business was brisk, Jennifer dropped her complaint, and so did the other employees. A little later, the former employees also dropped their suits when it became plain that public favor had swung to the store because the financial hardship would fall upon Mom rather than my father.
We were able to afford a full time caretaker for Dad instead of leaving him at home alone: one of his former victims—I'm sure he was well taken care of while we were working at the store. Eventually, sales superseded previous records and Mom returned home but still kept the caretaker. I took Mom's place as nominal manager at the store but with the able assistance of Mrs. Omed as the new sales manager. The store became a real family business and I often came home—I never worked late—accompanied by Jennifer and sometimes Mrs. Omed.
********
...The End.
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