Chapter 1

Lon Carpenter laid back in his lounger, sipping his canned soda, "Thank God for summer vacation!"

"No kidding!" Rick Flanders sat up in his beach chair to pick his drink up from the patio table. "I couldn't wait!" Summer was finally here, ending the boys' junior year in high school. In the fall, they'd be seniors, but for now, they were at loose ends...

"Only one problem," Toby Tolliver grunted, dabbing sunscreen on his nose despite the fact that he was hiding under the table's umbrella, "No girls."

Rick grunted, watching the waves lap the side of his family's swimming pool. "Yeah, well, it's not like you were getting any!"

"Yeah," Toby shot back, exasperated, "And at this rate, I WON'T, either, all summer!"

Lon leaned up and pushed his lank blond hair out of his eyes, "Dude, you wouldn't be getting anything from that bunch at school, anyway. They're more concerned at this point about whether their sweaters are fashionable than the bumps underneath them that WE want to touch! Besides, they don't know squat about how to please a man and it'll be a while before it becomes important to most of 'em..."

Rick eyed his friend, scratching his head, his thick, curly, medium-brown locks rippling, "So, what are you saying, Man?"

Lon swept his gaze over his friends, smiling. "Look, girls our age are great display pieces. They look great -- but they don't know shit, and they're not in their prime, sexually -- whereas WE are!"

"Yeah..." Toby eyed his more athletic friend (not to mention 'big man on campus') sidelong. "So what are we SUPPOSED to be hunting?"

"Women in their mid-thirties," Lon replied, smiling as he tilted up his can for another self-satisfied sip.

Toby rolled his eyes. "Like THAT's gonna happen! Girls our age are tough enough! Where are we gonna find older women who will pay any attention to us? Heck, where are we gonna find older women, period!"

Lon shrugged. "They're around. Close in, even. Rick's mama, for instance -- she's hot..."

Fifteen feet away, Jean Flanders froze, her hands in the sink. She'd been doing dishes, listening with amusement to the testosterone-fired angst of the three young men through the kitchen window. Lon's comment, however, floored her!

Outside, Rick rolled his eyes. "Okay, there's some justice in that -- but the problem is right there in what you said, Man! She's my mom!"

Lon shrugged. "She's not MY mom -- and she's not Toby's, either!"

'Of all the gall!' Jean fumed. 'I can NOT believe he's coming out with that...'

"So what am I supposed to do, in the unlikely event that you could sleaze your way into my mother's panties?" Rick wanted to know.

Lon had an answer, though. "Do mine, of course!" he laughed.

"Are you serious, Man?" Rick eyed his friend like he had two heads.

"Completely," Lon replied. "In the last year, Mama's been dating younger and younger dudes -- Hell, at this point, her dates can barely get into bars and buy liquor! Three or four more years won't mean much to her -- especially when she realizes that there is an increase in performance to be had!"

Rick snorted laughter. Toby shook his head, smiling. The shit Lon came out with... There WAS some truth to it, though -- they'd all seen the young guys that Lon's mother Candace had been stalking lately.

Jean, now actively eavesdropping, thought, 'Wait until Candace hears THIS!' Of course, Lon was right -- but that wouldn't keep Candace from being embarrassed. Maybe she would wake up and fly right when Jean rubbed her nose in what her own son thought of her amorous adventures...

Lon sat up and assumed a serious expression. "Dudes, I'm not kidding, here! We have our own little pool of mature, womanly charms, ripe for the taking! I propose we make a pact: Each of us looks the other way while the other two put the moves on his mother!"

"You're shitting me, right?" Rick gasped.

"Uh uh. Think about it -- it's not a cold contact thing; each of our mothers knows the other two guys, so we're not chasing down some MILF in the supermarket and trying to hit her up while discussing how ripe the melons are..." Lon argued.

Toby looked downcast. "That might work for you two guys, but I don't see where I have anything to offer. Ma is..."

"Porky?" Lon grinned to take the sting out while Toby's eyes flashed. "She's not THAT big, Man -- and she has the biggest hooters in the group!"

"So," Toby eyed Lon sidelong, "You'd do her?"

"Lookin' forward to it," Lon grinned, swilling down another sip of soda. Lowering the can, he flicked a glance at Rick. "You'd do her, right?"

"Yeah," Rick agreed. Toby's mother Beth was short, chunky, and kind of matronly -- but she DID have big hooters. In fact, when you looked at her as someone to stick your dick into (something Rick hadn't really done, to this point), she had three or four other things going for her; she was sweet-faced, had big, full lips -- and a good-sized ass wasn't ALWAYS a bad thing. And there was something indefinable about her personality -- something passive...

Toby stared myopically at his eyeglasses while he wiped a smear of suntan oil off the right lens, thinking, then announced, "Well, it's possible, I guess -- although she hasn't been out since Dad left her..." Suddenly, he assumed a furtive expression, glancing around, "Hey, this is, like, privileged info, but..." He glanced around again. "Ma's got a vibrator and a couple of dildos -- and she's noisy when she uses 'em. I've jacked off a BUNCH of times to the sound of her working it out..."

"Holy shit!" Rick exclaimed. "What a picture THAT brings to mind!"

Lon snorted laughter. "See? Ripe for the picking!"

Jean shook her head, embarrassed for her friend. The boys were 'WAY over the line, here... She couldn't believe that Lon was leading them off on this crazy fantasy -- or that her own son, Rick, was making noises like he was serious about participating!

Lon turned to Rick. "So. My mama is chasing young dick, anyway, and Toby's is suffering from lackanookie and can probably be brought down -- that leaves yours..."

Rick shrugged. "Well, I've got no big secrets to air about Mom's sex life. She's shy. She's been out a couple of times since Dad died, but as far as I can tell, nothing happened. I CERTAINLY can't tell you what happens to her in the bathtub, or whatever..."

Lon shrugged. "Okay, so, do you think she's shut the thing off?"

Rick shrugged. "Probably."

Lon sighed. "That's a sin and a shame, Man -- your Mama's hot!" He settled back in his chair, musing, "Well, she'll be a project, then..."

Jean stood there, blushing furiously. She was a project, was she? Embarrassment from the compliment mixed with outrage that a high school junior -- well, senior, now, technically, since the boys would all be seniors in the fall -- considered trying to seduce her to be a 'project'!

Odd as it was, though, there WAS something complimentary about the whole thing. Even second-hand as it was, it was the most blatant recognition of her sexuality that had occurred in some time. Actually, when you thought about it, the fact that Lon didn't know that she was overhearing him made the comments more believable, since Jean rightly assumed that Lon would level sleazy compliments at just about any woman who piqued his interest momentarily -- and some that didn't. Since Hugh died, male interest in a thirty-something, narrow, freckled redhead with a teenage son had been distinctly lacking, even after the grief backed off and she began to be able to give thought to the idea of having a new man in her life. Of course, she had limited assets -- her 32A's weren't wildly exciting, even if they WERE perky and had spiky nipples -- and there wasn't a whole lot of ass, there, either... Candace had twice her figure, and when they went out together those couple of times, Candace collected all of the male attention while she kind of hung around, eclipsed...

To be fair, there was nothing wrong with Jean that better packaging wouldn't have fixed -- but she tended to unflattering outfits that papered over her small bust instead of emphasizing it and baggy jeans that made her ass look saggy, despite being high-waisted. Her flyaway hair tended to be corralled in the severe control of a bun, rather than allowed to flow about her narrow face naturally; basically, she couldn't have looked much more like a scarecrow if she'd tried! Her current outfit was a case in point -- a navy blue one-piece bathing suit of a halter-top design -- but it showed NO cleavage as the front panel extended all the way to the neck! Sure, her back showed -- so what? The dark color made her look narrower than she already was, and the top swept up over her teacup titties, flattening her chest even further... Candace had disparaged her habits of dress on a hundred occasions, but Jean was habituated; once Hugh had discovered her, back when, he had actually reinforced the bad habits that had made her a wallflower all through high school and halfway through college for reasons of his own -- basically, the LAST thing he wanted was for another male to discover what he'd latched onto -- and of course, since his death there was no visible reason to reverse the trend...

Hugh hadn't been any fool; turned out properly, Jean would have become instantly popular -- and he'd have had a fight on his hands to keep his hot-blooded little red-haired minx! For Jean, once captured, had been a source of incredible pleasure to Hugh -- high-strung, athletic, insatiable, Jean had been the perfect lover, behind closed doors. Unfortunately, Hugh had turned up with an undiscovered heart condition four years ago -- and in the aftermath, shy Jean had put that facet of her personality back in its box...

Outside, Rick sat up and eyed Lon, "So, all I have to do is not get in the way?"

Lon shrugged. "Well, you COULD help..."

"What happens if Mom fails to fall for your boyish charm?" Rick asked, snickering. Toby snorted laughter, too, in the background.

Lon shrugged. "Then we have to take alternate days with Toby's mama, I guess. It'll definitely complicate things. Of course, if you're working MY mother over..."

"Sounds complicated," Rick laughed.

"Only for you!" Lon replied. "I'd be pretty much locked in to Toby's mom, and Toby would have the same issue with my mama -- only you could sample both!"

"Right!" Rick snorted. "Or lose out on BOTH ends!"

"Well, like I said -- you could help!" Lon looked sly.

"Oh, so now it's not enough to look the other way -- I've got to lead her to the slaughter!" Rick rolled his eyes.

Lon shrugged. "We'd be doing her a favor! Look, how old is she -- thirty-five?"

Rick did the math. "A bit older, I think. Thirty-seven? Thirty-eight?"

Lon shook his head. "Man, that's PRIME! She's probably suffering!"

'Suffering!' Jean fumed. Rick's first guess was right -- she was thirty-seven. But suffering? Not likely! She wasn't MALE, after all -- driven by her gonads! You just had to exercise some control... Granted, it was tough every once in a while, but if you left it alone, things settled down after a bit. Jean knew that Candace masturbated -- and now she knew that Beth did, too -- but she avoided it; her twat (Hugh loved to call it that) was for men -- and if you couldn't find a man, well, fingers didn't belong there. That only led to more frustration, and in the extremity, promiscuity...

All this concentration on her libido, however, was taking its toll; feelings that she'd buried safely for a couple of years were crawling up out of the hole like zombies...

"Suffering?" Rick raised an eyebrow. "I'm not seeing it."

Lon shrugged. "Women in your mother's position get this martyrdom thing going. She probably thinks she has it sewed up and it's not an issue. But if we get the juices flowing, she'll come around..."

Lon's choice of words stung Jean; her juices WERE flowing, suddenly, to her instant mortification! The crotch of her bathing suit was suddenly swampy -- God! What on Earth was she thinking? It was just all that salacious talk Lon was turning out, surely...

Rick shook his head. "Man, I give you somewhere between zero and minus five for chances. Mom's a drone, or something..."

'A drone?' Jean gasped.

Lon sat forward and eyed Rick intently. "Dude, she is NOT a drone! I see YOU sitting there -- and that means she's a proven producer! A woman who has babies fucks -- it doesn't happen any other way! All we have to do is bring her back on line... Are you in?"

Rick sat back, pensive, pulling his lip. "Are we setting any limits? I'm hearing that I should help..."

Lon shrugged. "Well, you can't DO her -- that's incest. How about this -- the third guy in the situation gets to arbitrate if the guy hunting asks the son to do something the son feels is too kinky..."

Rick flicked his eyes to Toby. "What about you?"

Toby rubbed his oily face and glared at his hand in disgust. Reaching for a napkin, he grunted, "This is way out there, Man -- but on the other hand, Lon's got a point! A woman HAS to be a better sex partner than a girl -- that way at least one of us knows what they're doing... I think we should give it a shot. Even if your mom isn't going to come out, chances are I can get Lon's to take pity on me, at least -- and, frankly, I think he's got something with this idea that they need it! I think Ma would be a lot happier if she was getting a little once in a while..." Actually, Toby was certain; the crying jags that his mother went on when frustration welled up in her and intensified her low self-esteem saddened him.

Rick locked eyes with the smaller teen. "Are you in or out?"

"In!" Toby replied firmly.

Rick swiveled his regard to Lon. "All right. I'm in."

"Shake on it!" Lon stuck out his paw. The three of them rapped hands. "If nothing else, this will add a bit of excitement around here!" he quipped.

'I have GOT to tell Candace and Beth what these cock-hounds are up to!' Jean vowed to herself. Draining the water from the sink, she backed away from it and headed upstairs to her room where she could have privacy for the phone call.

On the way, however, another thought intruded -- would they believe her? After all, boys did a lot of bragging -- this could all be bravado, loose talk to fill a summer afternoon... Candace would probably laugh at her. Beth would undoubtedly be horrified and embarrassed, but Toby was the least of the three, where it came to bravery and women -- these revelations and his mother's reaction to them could actively hurt him! No, she had to find out how serious they were about all this before she went blabbing about this 'pact' of theirs...

The thought process left her standing in her bedroom, looking in her full-length mirror. What to do? Obviously, she was going to have to put herself out there as bait... Would just being there be enough? Or was anything more than that entrapment? The drone comment had stung... 'I am NOT a drone!' Jean affirmed to herself, and turned to her dresser.

Five minutes later, she re-examined herself in the mirror. It had been several years since she had appeared anywhere in the tiny white bikini she had replaced the one-piece with; it was a couple of three inch triangles and strings, above, and narrowly cut enough below that a substantial portion of her tiny ass cheeks were on display. The crotch emphasized the almost three-finger gap in the hollow between her narrow thighs, too. 'I'll have to shave a bit,' she thought, eyeing the wisps that escaped the edges. Striding to the bathroom, she quickly gathered the materials and whipped off the tiny bikini bottom, foamed up, and narrowed the extent of her fur patch, bending like a pretzel to get the thin wisps in the hollows of her thighs. Along the way, it occurred to her that this was a lot of work to respond to a bit of adolescent male posturing -- but that drone comment still rankled.

When she was done, the patch of fur on her mons was still luxuriant -- but its edges were confined, which should be enough. An attempt to trim the stuff for length would take longer than her resolve might last... She wiped off the excess soap and hair with a washcloth and looked around for something to use as after-shave, settling on witch-hazel. Then it was back into the bikini bottoms, out to the bedroom to check the effect, and downstairs to see if the boys were still in place.

They were. Collecting a pitcher of tea, ice, and glasses took a moment; some snack crackers, cheese, and sliced pepperoni went on the tray, too. Then she was out the door...

Toby caught it first. He glanced up and caught Jean turning as she came free of the sliding door and his eyes widened while his jaw dropped. Lon glanced at Toby, frowned, glanced toward the door -- and snatched off his sunglasses! "Miz F! Nice suit!"

Rick's eyes popped. How long had it been since Mom turned out in THAT?

"Hello, boys!" Jean smiled sunnily. "I thought you might like some snacks!"

"I guess!" Lon murmured, under his breath. Shit, SHE was a snack!

Rick stifled the urge to tell Lon not to drool on the pool deck, suddenly realizing that the pact didn't allow any such commentary. Lon was busy ogling the exposed cheeks of his mother's ass as she collected her own glass and moved on down to the lounger beyond Toby, but Rick had to let that slide, too; pointing it up might kill Lon's chances to be taken seriously...

Toby watched Mrs. Flanders pass by owlishly; wow, she was so tiny! Well, she was taller than he was, but no wider. Now that he was forced to evaluate her as someone he might want to have sex with, Toby saw a different woman -- and for once, she was decently presented! The bikini displayed a lot of skin Toby had never seen before, and it pointed up some areas that had been under-emphasized in the past... Mrs. Flanders DID have titties -- little, pointy ones, but they were there, all right! Toby had always assumed she was kind of pancake-chested. And she had a tiny little ass, but it was round and firm and hanging half out of those bottoms... Probably most amazing was that gap between her legs -- how had he not noticed THAT?

"Toby, is there anything wrong?" Jean caught Toby staring.

"No, M--" 'Yeah, stupid -- great idea! Call her 'Ma'am'! Remind her how much older she is!' "N-no, everything is fine... Wow, that's a really nice suit!" Toby sputtered.

"Why thank you!" Jean replied, preening and smiling. "It's been a while since I wore it..."

'It sure has!' Rick thought. Dark suspicions began to fester. Lon, seeing his expression, queried him with his eyes. Rick leaned up and hissed, "Do you think she heard us?"

"If she did..." Lon's eyebrows went up. If she HAD heard them, and she changed into that bikini, it meant only one thing, right? Didn't it mean she was playing up? That she wanted it? He swept a wondering glance in Jean's direction.

Jean watched the pair out of the corner of an eye hidden by sunglasses. Rick seemed suspicious; Lon, thoughtful. And Toby -- suddenly, little innocuous Toby was looking at her like he thought she might be edible...

It had been literally years since she'd seen that look -- and it did things to her. She felt her nipples tighten and extend themselves, tenting the tiny triangular cups of her bikini top. A glance up at Lon detected the same predatory look sliding over the blond boy's handsome features. 'Oh, my God! They ARE serious!' Jean realized. 'And I just told them I want to play!' Very carefully, she settled back in her lounger and began to pretend to concentrate on her tea... Should she make a run for it? Pack everything up and pretend that this never happened? 'Well, at least two of them have decided that I'm NOT a drone!' she thought, smiling crookedly.

Lon thought about it and came up with the next ploy. "Are you wearing any sunblock? A person with your skin shouldn't sit out here in the sun unprotected..." Lon had the same problem as Toby, at this point -- calling Mrs. Flanders 'Mrs. Flanders' or 'Ma'am' or some such introduced an age barrier -- but he neither knew nor had permission to use her first name...

Lon put the ball in the air, but it was Toby who caught it and ran with it. He was up like a shot, crossing to Jean's lounger. "I've got some suntan oil right here..."

"Why, thank you, Toby!" Jean reached for the bottle.

Toby, however, was thinking; instead of handing her the bottle, he squirted some in her hand. "Why don't you do the easy stuff, and I'll do the hard to reach places?" he offered.

Jean froze. Admiration for the slight, doughy, unprepossessing dark-haired boy with the eyeglasses welled up in her. Somehow, the little shit had neatly torpedoed her! She could get stupid and stuffy and get out of there, or she could let him put his hands on her -- there was apparently no middle ground... "All right..." She put her glass down beside the lounger and began applying her handful of suntan lotion to her arms, face, and neck.

Toby watched with bird-bright eyes, gloating; that 'I'll get the hard to reach places' tactic was genius! Where did that come from? It had just appeared in his head when it became apparent that the whole thing was about to go south -- and it was working perfectly! "You're missing places." He stepped in and started working on her neck and ears, fully cognizant of the fact that if he wanted access to forbidden territory, he'd have to lull her a bit, first.

In the background, Rick and Lon shared a wondering glance. "That's Toby?" Rick whispered. Lon shook his head. Who'd have thought Toby could even hit? As it was, while it probably wouldn't be a homer, he was already at first, and he might get a double out of it... Heck, he might steal third!

Jean was having her own issues with disbelief. This was TOBY -- gangling, clumsy Toby -- suddenly all masterful and in control... While she bet that he had no idea that her ears were a sensitive place, there it was -- the work he was doing on them was giving her little tingles.

Toby grunted and gently picked up the bikini strap tied at the back of her neck so he could work under it; there was no way he could untie it, yet, but he COULD identify it as a source of future problems. "Gonna have to keep an eye on this," he grunted. "It'll wipe off the suntan lotion and you'll get red. Or you'll just end up with a white stripe..."

Jean nodded and held her hand out for more lotion. How much area was she going to end up deeding to him? Embarrassment was acting as an impediment to her own work on her chest and belly -- and while doing them herself was embarrassing enough, if she let Toby do them, what was she saying? To cover things, she went to work on her feet and calves.

Toby had a full inventory of the places she was missing -- and they were extensive. Heck, she hadn't even done her arms well! He continued covering her back while she leaned forward and dealt with her legs, taking advantage of her stretched position. Feet and calves went well, but she was missing places above the knee, especially at the back. Arm coverage was limited to the main areas, but the backs of her upper arms -- and especially the pits and those delicious areas just below that verged on her tits from the sides hadn't been touched...

Jean was doing such a half-assed job because she was tracking Toby's every move as he worked down the main area of her back, under the bikini strap at her shoulder blades, and down to the waist of the tiny bikini panty. Toby was deliberately businesslike, but she wasn't fooled -- besides, this was the most intimate she'd been with a man in years! She smiled crookedly at the realization that at this moment, for her purposes Toby WAS a man, his age notwithstanding... When he was apparently done with her back, she sat back a bit and began gingerly working on her stomach.

Toby put an end to it. "Jeez, you might as well not even bother!" he rasped, the soul of professional disgust. "Give me an arm..." Jean looked at him in wonder and raised her left arm. Toby took it at the wrist and proceeded to ensure that the underside was handled, starting at the wrist and working his way down the arm past the elbow, on to her ticklish upper arm, and into the armpit area. "It's a wonder you don't have zebra stripes instead of freckles," he grunted, feigning exasperation.

Jean found herself with an arm held high while cool fingers applied lotion along her side and in the sensitive boundary area beside her left breast. She tensed, and started to say something, but Toby was doing a consummate job of pretending professional detachment...

Toby was having the time of his life! This arm thing, properly handled, might allow him to steal second, at least! But he had to be careful; if he wandered too far, too early, she would freak... Still, he was perfectly justified in covering the side-swell of her little titty as he snugged the lotion coverage up to that tiny cup...

Jean was tracking every millimeter by eye and by skin receptor -- but Toby did exactly what was necessary and no more, which was plenty for both of them. Jean realized that she was oiling up somewhere that wouldn't see sun; her pussy was damp, and starting to feel puffy as she reacted to Toby's mastery of the situation. Toby, pretending indifference, merely switched sides...

Toby profiled himself as he circled the lounger, though; his trunks, impressively tented, passed in front of Jean at eye level, giving the lie to his apparent indifference. Jean continued to face forward while surrendering her right arm to his ministrations, reprocessing the image that burned into her retinas as he passed -- that bulge was HUGE!

None of Toby's heavy weapons was visible to the casual observer; his intellect was papered over by his shyness, for instance. No one would ever pick him for a stud out of a line-up; Jean was probably the first woman ever to discover Toby's big gun -- and it WAS a big gun! Jean stole another glance; was it the trunks? Toby's penis, as outlined, looked bigger than Hugh's had been! She was getting carried away -- yeah, that was it -- she was letting a seventeen-year-old boy arouse her, for God's sake! Her objectivity was shot... But he was working below her arm again, verging on her right breast, and it was tingling, begging for more. This time, instead of watching him, she closed her eyes and traced the touch of his fingers, part of her wishing that he would go for it...

Toby was in Heaven; he might not have played with her nipples, exactly, but he'd gotten the feel of a bit of the silky outside surface of both of Mrs. F's titties -- something nobody ELSE had done lately, apparently! He worked over her ribs and down her right side, stopping at the panty line. "Lie back," he directed, gruffly.

Jean was moving before she realized it, settling back onto the lounger -- but Toby had second thoughts! "Oops! Sit up again! Turn to one side..." Jean sat back up, turning toward the other two boys and putting her feet on the deck, still wondering why she was reacting to Toby without thinking. Toby took a dollop of lotion, warmed it in his hands and, taking a deep breath, stepped up behind Jean and started smearing it from her shoulders down over the top of her chest.

Jean froze -- not for the reason that Toby expected, but rather because when his hands started drifting down her chest, she almost went boneless, instinctively, which would have ended up with her leaning against him and him cupping her breasts! Toby was careful, but Jean didn't move; instead, she looked up at the other two boys, who were both watching the action like hawks! Lon, in particular, seemed to be growing fangs as she watched -- but Lon wasn't running things, here -- it was Toby's hands that were drifting over the upper slopes of her breasts. He was almost done before she cleared her throat gently and asked in a scratchy voice, "Are you sure you ought to be doing that?"

Toby froze, but he didn't withdraw. Instead, he shrugged. "You didn't." Then he resumed tracing the edge of her bikini cups with lotion-slick fingers, absently analyzing the smoky tone of Mrs. F's voice... He had an ungodly fine view right down into those cups -- God! What a sight! Serious willpower was required not to overdo things... Stepping back, he repeated his earlier command, "Lie back."

Jean did as she was told -- it was too late to quibble. Besides -- and she admitted it to herself as Toby circled to her right and squatted to begin oiling her belly -- she was aroused! Control of this little experiment was out the window; if the other two boys weren't sitting there, she just wasn't sure exactly where she would have intervened to stop Toby, if at all! The box she kept physical desire locked in was wide open; it was behind her, pinning her to the lounger in order to ensure that Toby had all the time he needed to move his magic fingers over the supposedly G-rated gap between the underside of her breasts and her panty line like an invisible genie...

Toby leaned in and covered the center areas, sliding his hands all the way around the sides, blending the coverage at the thin fat pad of her small love handles. Jean inhaled and got a nose full of male -- raw, aroused, powerful male pheromones! She could smell his armpits, and she could smell the juices simmering in his crotch as his cock strained and heavy balls on full alert made his crotch a sweaty pool. Her nostrils distended; in that moment, she wanted Toby so bad it hurt! Then his slick fingers were tracing the undersides of her breasts...

Toby wasn't the only one who was whiff, and Jean wasn't the only one affected by smell. Toby had never smelled the aroma that drifted up as he leaned over Mrs. F's lap -- but that didn't keep him from knowing what it was! He had her on the run! He owned her! Deliberately, he slid his slick fingers under the tiny strap between her breasts, knowing that she was going to do NOTHING about it...

Only her sunglasses saved Jean; if Toby had seen her eyes, he'd have been all over her. As it was, she hissed in a breath, but didn't move as his fingers traveled areas on the lower slope of her breasts that even the tiny triangles of the top were big enough to protect. If he'd gotten braver, he could have had her nipples in that moment, but the other two boys' presence inhibited him.

Shifting to the lower boundary, he began again, covering the required area diligently -- and then deliberately making a border incursion, running his fingers deep enough under the waistband of the tiny panty to brush the upper edge of her pubic fur. Jean let it happen; at that point, if he had driven directly for her clitoral hood, she'd have allowed it. The fluids inside her vaginal opening were boiling!

"Spread your legs," Toby ordered in a husky voice, "Put your feet on the deck on either side of the chair."

No woman in her right mind would have followed that instruction -- but Jean did! And she watched, bug-eyed, as Toby took possession of her right thigh, oiling the inner surface right up into the area that she'd just applied witch-hazel to after her shave! The hollow there, where the tendons connected to her pubic bone... Toby was millimeters from her labia, working at the edges of a bikini panty whose crotch was already visibly soaked with what could only be Jean's own fluids.

Toby was beside himself! The smell! Heavenly! Mrs. F was hot for him! God! He got up and circled around to Jean's left; he could have gotten at the leg from her right side, but he couldn't have possessed it like he did the right. Besides, it shielded him from the prying eyes of the boys behind him... He worked his magic in the hollow of her left thigh, deliberately covering every millimeter of uncovered flesh right up to her crotch -- and then, in an excess of bravery, caught her eye while he slid his finger right through the gusset of her panty, drifting it up and down over her labia!

Jean sucked in air, but didn't move; to do so would be to alert the other boys. Instead, she wet her lips, her tongue peeking out as it lubricated their inner surface. Toby's finger ignited a flash fire of pleasure, just brushing over her nether lips; she was powerless to stop him. She couldn't speak, but her hand slid down to capture his right forearm in an urgent grip that did NOT imply that he should stop...

If Toby had possessed just a little bit more experience, he would have dipped his finger into her wet opening, and she'd have been lost; instead, he stood up and announced gruffly, "I'm going to lower the lounger. I want you to roll over so I can do the back side of your legs..."

"Yes, Toby." This was more than acquiescence to his instructions and both of them knew it. Jean relaxed into the chair while he lowered the back, trusting him not to drop her, then rolled over meekly. She never gave any thought to keeping her knees together -- that defeated the purpose of the exercise. Toby started on her left, smoothing the coverage on an already oily ankle and calf before moving on to the back of Jean's knee, then, planting his right knee on the lounger between her legs, he worked up the back of her thigh -- all the way to her ass! He didn't stop there, either; deliberately, he took his fill of her tiny round ass cheek, working beneath the panty boldly, knowing that he owned the territory. When he was done enjoying the left cheek, he shifted and repeated the entire procedure on the right. Again, masked from direct view, he invaded her secret places, his cock a burning bar of flesh pressed against the back of Jean's leg while he fingered the tender area between her tightly puckered anus and her vaginal opening. Jean was shaking; she wanted him to do something -- ANYTHING -- that would finish her -- but he couldn't, and they both knew it.

When he was done molesting her, Toby stood up, murmuring, "You should think about sunbathing nude. As small as that suit is, it still has straps and things that would get in the way of showing off your tan in nice outfits."

"I don't know..." Jean managed to murmur. 'Oh, God, just... fuck me!'

"You should think about it," Toby pressed, continuing to pretend that nothing much had happened. "It's very private, here -- no one would see you. Of course, you'll need someone to see to your proper coverage, or you'll burn..." Toby mused a moment. "Maybe you should get an even more revealing suit. I think you should wear a thong."

"A thong? Really?" Everything Toby said seemed to have wicked undertones.

"I think so..." Toby looked up and waved at Lon. "Dude! Come here a minute!"

Lon blinked. "Sure..." He got up and crossed the pool deck to stand beside his friend. Rick got up, too, and shadowed the others.

"I think she ought to wear a thong, don't you?" Toby asked his friend.

"Could be..." Lon pretended to mull over the idea.

"No, really, check it out..." Toby put a knee on the lounger and reached down to gather the seat of Jean's bikini panty, pulling it into the crack of her little round ass. "That's a prime location for a thong, don't you think?"

Jean didn't DARE look over her shoulder! She held still while Lon pursed his lips and nodded. "Yeah, I think you're right. That's thong territory. Good territory, too -- sweet..."

"Yeah..." Toby, still holding the panty bunched into Jean's ass-crack, absently collected a handful of her right cheek with the other hand. "Real nice..." He let go and stood up. "It'd be a shame not to see that tanned..." He delivered a look that challenged Lon as clearly as if he had said aloud, 'And it's MINE!' Lon threw up his hands and nodded; Toby would get the first round with Miz F., at least -- he'd earned it!

Rick shook his head, dumbfounded. If anyone had told him an hour ago that Toby was capable of getting into Mom's pants, he'd have laughed out loud -- but he'd seen enough to know that Mom's defenses were down...

Jean lay there, pretending to be drowsy, while the flames of desire slowly waned. The thong bit had been seriously humiliating, but she knew as well as everyone else that Toby had been staking claim to her. It was a just claim, too -- clearly, if he got her alone and showed anything resembling the finesse that he had displayed in the last few minutes in handling her, she was going to find herself on her back with her legs open while he reamed her vagina with that pole in his trunks! Just thinking about it extended her agony of desire...

She spent twenty minutes pretending to sun herself before staggering up on unsteady legs. "I should go in and leave you boys to your own devices," she muttered, breaking for the door.

"Sure, no problem." Lon leered at her as she went by. Rick merely nodded.

Jean got almost to the door before Toby called out, "Come back any time..." She turned and flashed Toby a smile as she closed the slider, then went over to lean against the sink and eavesdrop through the kitchen window. Undoubtedly, this was going to be embarrassing...

"You STUD!" Lon erupted. "You had her on the ropes! I could tell THAT from here!"

Toby grinned from ear to ear. "If you guys hadn't been here..."

Lon turned to Rick. "Well, that pretty well settles the question of whether your mama is doable, don't you think?"

Rick shook his head. "I'm amazed, frankly."

"Man, women her age shouldn't do without. We're performing a public service, here!" Lon insisted. Leaning forward, he added, "First round targets are pretty much settled, then -- Toby gets Miz F -- what's her first name, Man? I can't call her that, and neither can Toby!"

"Jean," Rick supplied.

"Toby gets Jean. I get Toby's mama -- Beth, right?" Lon confirmed. Toby nodded. "And you get my mama."

"Uh, first round?" Rick queried. "Mom's not a slut, recent evidence to the contrary..."

Lon waved it off. "Nobody says she is -- but we may want to switch up -- THEY may want to switch up, too! Let's not limit things..."

Rick threw up his hands and sat back, shaking his head. Turning to Toby, he asked, "So how close did you get, really?"

"Do you really want to know?" Toby asked.

"Yeah..." Rick began to wonder if he did.

Toby stepped forward and put his right index finger under Rick's nose. "Smell that."

Rick did so, and his face went white. "That isn't...!"

"Pussy," Toby confirmed with a nod. "I didn't play around inside -- that's just off the surface -- but she was soaked, and she didn't complain when I dipped inside her panties..." He shifted the finger to Lon, who was gesticulating wildly that it was his turn. "I think, if we'd been alone..."

Lon inhaled. "That's pussy, all right! Man, I NEVER thought I'd see you put the moves on a woman like that! What happened?"

Toby shook his head. "I dunno. It was just right -- everything fell into place. I was getting pretty brave at the end, but it didn't start that way. I just took it easy, and took whatever ground she gave; pretty soon, I was deep in enemy territory..." He looked up at Rick, "Dude, your mom is NOT a drone! She's hot stuff!"

Rick shook his head, grinning. "I get that! Okay, Dudes! To the pact!" He raised his iced tea in salute.

"To the pact!" The other two scurried to raise their glasses and clink them together.

Jean flushed scarlet in embarrassment, all the way to her nipples -- but she was still hotter than a pistol from Toby's fondling, and had no outlets. She staggered upstairs and threw herself on her bed, but the memory of those hands... Without conscious volition, her own hands traced the more important areas of Toby's effort at conquest, then moved on to areas she WISHED he'd occupied. The bikini got in the way of her fevered imagination, and fell by the wayside as her (his) hands attacked her nipples, and probed her now nonexistent vaginal defenses. Panting and gasping, she surrendered to his ravishment, his fingers toying with her pearl, teasing a bubble of joy from it while his other hand mauled her right nipple the way Hugh used to... She screamed quietly, once, before some sense came to her and she shoved the corner of a pillow between her jaws to dampen the sound of her joy escaping.

When she returned to herself, she was mildly disgusted; she was no fan of fingers -- it would have been better if Toby had actually... She stopped that train of thought in its tracks! Getting up, she went to the window, nude, to see if anyone had heard her outburst. Lon and Rick were invisible under the table umbrella -- but Toby was there... While she eyed him, pondering her feelings, he glanced up, prompting her to back away from the window, hurriedly. Time to shower -- and change the bedspread, too, for that matter; it had suntan oil all over it...

Toby did a double take, staring at the upstairs window. Had he seen what he THOUGHT he saw?

"Something wrong?" Lon asked.

"No, no..." Toby reprocessed the image in his mind; either his imagination was VERY good, or...