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Archive name: harper01.txt (F/mf, exh, inc, ped)
Authors name: Filthy Fiction (filthyfiction@hotmail.com)
Story title : Harper Valley USA - 1 House Rules

--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 2003.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
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Harper Valley USA - 1 House Rules (F/mf, exh, inc, ped)
by Filthy Fiction (filthyfiction@hotmail.com)

***

This is the first chapter of what will be a continuing 
series depicting the melodramatic sexual adventures of a 
typical suburban family. For those who enjoy pantyhose 
stories, this series will focus heavily (though, not 
totally) on that particular fetish, as well as the 
obvious incest themes.

***

Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction 
containing graphic descriptions of sexual acts between 
adults and minors. While all of the sex depicted is 
consensual, the author does not intend to promote incest 
or sexual relations with underage children. The story is 
written purely for entertainment purposes only. Those who 
are offended by such material are strongly encouraged not 
to read this.

This is the first chapter of what will be a continuing 
series depicting the melodramatic sexual adventures of a 
typical suburban family. For those who enjoy pantyhose 
stories, this series will focus heavily (though, not 
totally) on that particular fetish, as well as the 
obvious incest themes.

Each chapter will be written predominantly from the point 
of view of one member of the family.

We hope you enjoy it. Please send us your comments and 
suggestions.

Your friends at Filthy Fiction... 

Story codes: (F/m, F/f, inc, family, pantyhose, cum, 
oral, voy, exh, bi, mast, slow, plot, cons, rom)


Harper Valley USA
By Filthy Fiction

Chapter One: House Rules


Jonathan Harper wasn't allowed to jerk off. His classy 
suburban mother had tried pills, workouts and fad diets, 
but nothing made her look or feel better than gulping hot 
mouthfuls of thick creamy sperm everyday. His older 
sister, as pretty and popular as she was, also required 
at least one daily serving of rich salty protein in her 
diet. 

Each woman relied on both Jonathan and his father to feed 
their perverse addiction with an ever-ready supply of 
fresh cum. Thus, the horny 13-year-old was strictly 
forbidden to waste even a single drop by jerking off, 
even if no one else was around. 

For the most part, this simple house rule had never been 
terribly difficult for the scrawny, pimple-faced misfit 
to obey. Even at 36, Jonathan's mother was easily one of 
the hottest women in town. She had long, lustrous, 
flowing blonde hair, and sleek powerful legs that tapered 
down from her broad thighs to her skinny ankles. Still, 
this often went unnoticed by men staring at the way her 
huge tits jiggled when she walked. With a body like that, 
Mrs. Harper was widely regarded as the neighborhood MILF.

At only 15, Jonathan's bubbly older sister bore a 
striking resemblance to her gorgeous mother. She had 
followed in her mother's footsteps and become a 
cheerleader at the same high school. She wasn't as 
shapely and statuesque as her mother, but she still 
attracted many admirers for the way she shook her 
pompoms. Overnight, it seemed, the slim blue-eyed blonde 
had suddenly transformed into what Jonathan's father like 
to call, "One dangerously hot piece of ass." 

It was 3:30 in the afternoon, when Jonathan returned home 
from school. On the kitchen counter, he found a simple 
handwritten note. In fancy letters, his mother wrote that 
she had gone shopping and wouldn't be home until later. 
Knowing full well how much his mother loved spending his 
father's money, Jonathan figured she would probably be 
gone for hours. 

His father would still be at work for at least another 
hour as well. His sister, meanwhile, was most likely 
still at cheer practice, or hanging out with her 
girlfriends at the mall. 

As much as he liked having the house to himself, with no 
mother nagging him and no sister chattering on the phone, 
he really hoped one of them would get home soon. He still 
had a throbbing hard-on from his day at school.

His English teacher, Miss Collins, had worn one of her 
famous miniskirts that day. Her skirts were known for 
being extremely short, so short, in fact, that they 
barely qualified as skirts at all. To Jonathan, she wore 
them for one single reason, to ruthlessly deny him a 
vital glimpse of her precious little panties. Otherwise, 
Miss Collins seemed perfectly content to have her supple 
naked thighs on full display. 

Every time Jonathan closed his eyes, he instantly 
recalled the thrilling moment when she perched on the 
edge of her desk, gripped the bottom of her skirt and 
then fluidly entwined her luscious legs. Just thinking 
about it got him insanely hard. 

He thought that maybe a video game might calm him down 
for a while, so he went into the living room and sat on 
the floor. He clicked on the TV just in time to catch the 
new Britney Spears video. He couldn't stop watching as 
the tempting pop star flashed her cleavage and wiggled 
her robust hips seductively. Her lurid pelvic thrusts and 
panting gyrations aroused him even more. After this 
three-minute cock-tease, the steamy video ended, quickly 
followed by another, featuring Jennifer Lopez. 

Watching her strut around, shaking that delectable ass 
was more than Jonathan could take. He hopped up and 
headed straight for the garage, where his father kept a 
secret stash of X-rated videos, just for emergencies. 

He hauled out an old cardboard box with his father's auto 
and sports magazines piled in a dusty stack on top. He 
shoved them aside, dug down and plucked out a handful of 
black videocassettes. He scanned the white labels until 
he read a title that made his cock twitch. The tape was 
titled: "Teenage Anal Gangbang." He walked back to the 
living room, slid the tape in the VCR and sprawled 
himself out on the fluffy beige carpet. 

The first girl in the video looked pretty hot, or at 
least her body did, with her bleached blonde hair and her 
lofty round breast implants. Though she clearly was not a 
teenager, she reminded Jonathan of one of his sister's 
friends, a snotty girl named Ashley, whom Jonathan 
desperately wanted to fuck. The platinum blonde was busy 
on-screen, down on all fours, fucking and sucking three 
men at once. 

The longer he watched, the more Jonathan felt the urge to 
touch himself. He closed his eyes and re-imagined the 
scene, replacing the nameless actress with his sister's 
friend. He unzipped his fly, then hunched down his jeans 
and underwear. His dick heavily flopped out of his 
shorts. He wet his hand with saliva, lubed the head of 
his cock and stroked himself at a slow and steady pace. 

As the movie went on, Jonathan increased his rhythm. The 
bent-over blonde grimaced painfully as another man rammed 
his huge cock up her tender asshole. As the man pulled 
out, she spun around and let him dump a thick wad of 
pasty white jizz all over her smiling face. Jonathan was 
so focused on the action that he didn't notice when his 
mother walked in through the backdoor. 

Shelly Harper lumbered into the kitchen hefting two 
plastic bags loaded with groceries. Jonathan had left his 
bicycle leaning against the garage door, which usually 
meant that her son had just gotten home from school. 

 "Hello," she said, in her usual pleasant tone. "I could 
use some help over here." 

Jonathan froze. Normally, he would have run over to help 
immediately, but his mother's sudden return had caught 
him off guard. It took him a second just to decide 
whether to pull up his pants or stop the tape. He didn't 
want his mother overhearing the movie, so he chose the 
latter. But where did he put the remote? He didn't see it 
anywhere. He felt around under the sofa, but it wasn't 
there. 

He must have bumped it under the entertainment center. 
His hand scrambled beneath the wall unit, straining to 
reel in the slim gadget, as he pinched at it with his 
fingertips. He cursed when he heard the approaching sound 
of his mother's high heels tramping across the kitchen 
floor. Her rapid shoe steps clicked and clacked toward 
the living room, quieting as the plush carpet finally 
cushioned her four-inch pumps.
 
"Jonathan," she called. Her voice was now closer and more 
insistent. "I could really use a hand in the kitchen."

"Sorry, Mom," he said, with a strain in his voice. He 
winced as he made one last contorted effort to snare the 
elusive device. "My hand's a little busy right now."

His mother was silent for a moment, then replied, "Is 
that supposed to be funny?" 

Jonathan inhaled anxiously. It wasn't until he slid the 
remote from its hiding place, that it finally occurred to 
him how easy it would have been to just reach over to the 
VCR and press stop.

As he wearily rolled over onto his back, he looked up and 
saw his mother standing over him with her black leather 
pumps planted on either side of his head. The glorious 
vision directly up her skirt made Jonathan's cock swell 
twice as hard. Again, his mother spoke firmly. 

"I asked you a question, young man." Her hands rested on 
her flaring hips as she scolded him. "I come home and 
catch you watching porn with your pants down and you tell 
me that your hand is a little busy right now." She 
scowled over him, folding her arms with contempt. "Is 
that supposed to be funny?"

 "No, no," Jonathan rushed to explain. "I didn't mean it 
like that. I was just talking about the."

"Hush!" She said, cutting him off. Like the snap of a 
whip, she furiously hiked up her miniskirt. Her towering 
legs glowed under her suntan pantyhose. 

Jonathan was too stunned to react when his mother 
suddenly sat on his face and smothered him with her 
steaming crotch. His chest heaved as he desperately 
inhaled the alluring fragrance of her steaming pussy. The 
musty smell of her hot and sweaty asshole sent shivers 
down to his aching balls. The struggle for air sent 
chills through his whole body. He listened as his mother 
lectured.
 
"It's one thing to make me carry in all the bags by 
myself," said Shelly, who snuffed any chance of her son 
breathing with the willful pressure of her nylon-covered 
ass. "But jerking off without me is completely 
unacceptable. You know the house rules."

Jonathan was in no position to talk back. He reached back 
with one hand to rub her silky thigh, while his other 
hand quickly resumed stroking his now fully hard cock.

"You see," his mother said, as she held his hand and 
slowly guided it over her glossy pantyhose. "I always 
obey the house rules. So does your sister. Even your 
father manages to control himself most of the time. So 
how do you explain yourself?"

Jonathan had to pry himself free. His head rose from 
between her legs as he gasped in relief. "I'm sorry. I 
didn't mean for it to happen." His voice was out of 
breath. "I was horny as hell when I got home, but no one 
was here. I just couldn't wait."

Shelly shook her head. She rolled her eyes and then 
sucked her teeth. "Johnny," she said. "You've been home 
for what, thirty minutes? Are you really that horny that 
you couldn't even wait until I got home to make dinner? 
Haven't I told you a hundred times that I've always got 
time to suck your cock?"

Jonathan nodded regretfully. His hand lingered over her 
pantyhose, sliding back and forth. "I know," he said. "It 
was stupid. It won't happen again."

Shelly nodded and smiled, as if reading his sincerity. 
Breaking the rules on purpose wasn't in Jonathan's 
nature. His hormone-driven body just needed a release 
wherever he could find one. 

Shelly shifted from her squatting position and lowered 
her knees to the floor. She stretched down over her son's 
stomach, keeping his face near her crotch. Blonde hair 
swept across Jonathan's lap, brushing his sensitive hard-
on. Shelly leaned toward the swollen head and greeted it 
with a kiss. Slowly, her mouth opened and Jonathan's cock 
was cordially sucked inside.

Shelly moaned as his rigid cock pulsed and throbbed 
against her tongue. She hungrily swallowed every single 
inch, forcing the tip well beyond her tonsils. For a 
moment, she kept her head completely still, as if 
transporting herself to some euphoric state by the sheer 
depravity of lodging her son's cock down her throat. 

The deeper she pushed, the more her mouth watered. Warm 
saliva oozed down the shaft. Tears leaked from the 
corners of her eyes. Strangled breaths gurgled from the 
back of her throat as she fought back the urge to gag. 
Her stomach lurched. She coughed hard. She sprang up 
gasping for air. 

"Oh God!" Shelly groaned, dizzy and out of breath. She 
shut her eyes, perhaps to stop the room from spinning. 
She seized his cock blindly with one hand and leisurely 
began to stroke. "Damn, honey," she panted. "Your cock is 
getting so big now. I almost choked."

Jonathan smiled. "As big as Dad's?"

"Not quite," she answered, measuring between breaths. 
"But pretty close."

Jonathan beamed with boyish pride. "I'm feeling pretty 
close, too, Mom," he said. "Don't stop. I'm almost ready 
to cum."

Shelly had barely paused long enough to catch her breath, 
but she eagerly went down to suck him even more. Jonathan 
still wasn't completely used to seeing his mother act 
this way. As his cock plunged the depths of her cavernous 
throat, while her wet tongue bathed his cock like a warm 
sponge, Jonathan was convinced that no one in the world 
loved him as much as mom did. 

Marriage had made her a faithful housewife. Children had 
made her a devoted mother. Yet, Shelly seemed most 
content with her new role as Jonathan's personal slut.

For Jonathan, there was no greater feeling in the world 
than to have his beautiful mother swallow his hard cock 
down her bottomless throat. Settling his hands on her 
soft, shapely ass, and sliding his fingers over her 
wonderful pantyhose was truly the icing on the cake. 

Jonathan's lust for pantyhose was obviously something in 
his genes. His instant response to the shimmering colors 
and soft textures was no different than how his father 
reacted the first time he saw Shelly back in high school. 

Greg Harper had once been quarterback of the varsity 
football team at Cedar Springs high school. Shelly 
Anderson was the only freshman to make the cheerleading 
squad during Greg's senior year. 

When Greg saw her on the field, prancing around in her 
little red uniform, she had blonde hair, blue eyes and 
big tits bouncing on a shiny pair of nylon-spangled legs. 
Greg wasted no time going after the hottest girl he had 
ever seen. 

To his delight, Shelly was more than willing. They did it 
in Greg's pick-up. As she started to slide them off, Greg 
asked that she keep her pantyhose on. At first, she 
didn't quite understand. Pantyhose were part of her 
normal uniform. She wore them all the time. She frowned 
when Greg drew his pocketknife and ripped them open. 

Her pantyhose were ruined, but Greg fucked her harder 
than she'd ever been fucked before. The next day, Shelly 
went out and bought herself enough pairs of pantyhose to 
fill up her whole bottom drawer.

This same pantyhose fetish had obviously been passed down 
to Greg and Shelly's teenage children. The mere sight of 
his mother in seamless, or his sister in sheer-to-waist, 
gave Jonathan a raging hard-on that would not quit. 
Luckily for him, seeing this reaction only encouraged his 
mother and sister to wear pantyhose as often as possible.

It had been about a year since Jonathan had first 
developed this pantyhose obsession. Lying there on the 
living room floor, while his beautiful mother lovingly 
sucked him off, Jonathan quietly caressed her long, silky 
legs and blissfully remembered the day that changed his 
life.


 * *

 
One quiet Friday afternoon, Jonathan noticed his mother 
in her bedroom, getting dressed for what looked like a 
special occasion. In fact, she was just getting ready for 
a spicy reunion with her husband, who was coming home 
that night from a long business trip. 

She was sitting on the edge of her bed, in black bra and 
panties, holding up a flimsy pair of new black pantyhose. 
Sunlight from her bedroom window shined through the sheer 
fabric, making the nylon sparkle. Jonathan watched as his 
mother carefully slipped them on one leg at a time. 

She lifted each foot, pointed her toes and gradually slid 
them up to her knees. She rose up, patiently stretching 
the hose all the way over her backside. She then used her 
fingers to smooth the wrinkles and straighten the seams. 

At 12 years old, Jonathan knew what pantyhose were, but 
he had never seen his mother actually put them on. He had 
never witnessed the special care she would take to get 
them on just right, as if anything worn against her naked 
body was something sacred that ought to be handled 
gently. 

Of course, he was well aware of his mother's shapely 
figure. No one could miss the way her big tits ballooned 
from her low-cut tops, or her bulging ass filled out the 
back of her tight jeans. Still, Jonathan was instantly 
fixated by the wonder of her endless legs. 

He stood there in the empty hallway, lost somewhere 
between staring and dreaming, unaware that he had already 
begun rubbing his little hard-on outside his pajamas. 
Blinded by lust, it never dawned on the boy that his 
mother might notice him ogling and fondling himself. 

Shelly went on about her normal routine, either unaware 
or unconcerned that her son was watching. She quietly 
sashayed from the bed to her closet, switching her bouncy 
hips, which only made her ass look all the more 
irresistible under those sexy black pantyhose. She seemed 
to revel in the way the pantyhose massaged her lower 
body, from her narrow waist all the way down to her 
little toes. 

Her hands constantly rubbed up and down her sumptuous 
legs. She lingered in various intriguing poses: bending 
at the waist, rising on her tiptoes, resting one foot on 
a chair. Each motion gave her pantyhose a wondrous new 
sparkle. 

She tried on several pairs of fancy shoes, before finally 
settling on a simple pair of tall black pumps. She sat 
again, staring at the shoes, crossing her legs to admire 
the heels from various angles. Her husband always looked 
forward to a sensuous leg tease, and Shelly knew just how 
to do it.

In those few moments that Jonathan had been quietly 
watching, he had slowly inched his way to the threshold 
of her bedroom door. He panted with excitement from the 
friction between his bare skin and the soft cotton 
pajamas rubbing against his swollen cock. His head was 
peeking so far through the doorway, there was no chance 
of him getting away unnoticed. 

He knew he would surely be punished for spying, but that 
hardly mattered under the hypnotic spell of those 
shimmering black pantyhose. The curious tone of his 
mother's mellow voice finally woke him out of his trance.

Sitting on her bed, she gave him a brief glance and 
calmly asked, "Is there some reason why you're staring at 
my legs?"

Jonathan couldn't bring himself to respond. For a moment, 
it seemed like he was eavesdropping on someone else.

"Ummm," he finally stammered. His heart pounded. "I'm 
sorry, Mom. I was just... I mean, I didn't mean to... not 
on purpose, I swear. Please don't be mad at me."

Shelly just sat there rubbing her lower leg. A tender 
smile spread across her face. "I'm not angry," she said, 
holding his gaze with her crystal blue eyes. Her voice 
flowed with motherly affection. "I'm actually very glad 
to see you," she added. Her palm slid invitingly across 
the bedspread. "Why don't you come over here and sit 
down? I really think we should talk."

Jonathan nodded. Her gentle words and loving expression 
set him at ease. As he stepped into the room, greeted by 
the sweet scent of perfume, his mother reached out, took 
him by the hand and led him over to the bed. 

"Don't be nervous," said Shelly, as Jonathan sat down 
beside her, fidgeting and staring at the floor. "I meant 
what I said," she told him. "I'm very happy about this."

Jonathan looked up, blinking with disbelief. "You're 
happy?"

Shelly nodded. "Yes," she answered, "very happy. You're 
father and I have been waiting for something like this to 
happen. It means you're finally ready."

Jonathan didn't know what to say. Ready for what, he 
thought, staring at his mother blankly. Over the 
preceding month or two, his parents had been paying a lot 
more attention to his older sister, even taking her on 
special trips. Tiffany would never tell him where they 
had been. Usually, she would lie and say they had gone to 
a movie, but later she wouldn't remember what they had 
seen. Jonathan wondered if this had anything to do with 
that.

"I can tell you're a little freaked out," Shelly 
continued. "That's normal. Your sister was too. But she 
got used to it right away, and so will you."

Jonathan stared, still unsure what to say. He raised one 
eyebrow and scratched his head, thinking heavily. Why had 
Tiffany been lying to him all this time?

"I don't get it," he said. "First, you catch me spying on 
you. Then, you tell me that you're happy about that. Now, 
you want to tell me some big secret that you already told 
Tiffany before me. I don't get it, Mom. What's going on?"

Shelly paused. Jonathan waited expectantly as his mother 
took a moment to collect her thoughts. She slid over, 
folding her arm around his lower back, holding him close. 

"Sweetheart, you know your father and I love you very 
much, don't you?"

Jonathan shuddered, feeling his mother's half-naked body 
pressed against him. "Uh, yeah, Mom," he stammered. 
"Sure, I do."

"And you know we would never let anyone harm you or your 
sister either, right?"

"Mom, please?" he told her, starting to tremble. "Just 
tell me what's going on."

"Okay," Shelly nodded, sweeping a lock of blonde hair 
behind her ear. "For the past six years, your father and 
I have been involved in something called 'swinging.' Have 
you ever heard that word before?"

Jonathan nodded. "Yeah, it's like a type of dancing, with 
a big band, where the girls twirl around and do all sorts 
of flips and stuff."

Shelly grinned, shaking her head. "No, no. I don't mean 
swing dancing. I mean, swinging. They're quite 
different."

Jonathan shrugged. "Then I guess not."

Shelly took a deep breath, then blew it out. "Well," she 
went on. "Swinging is something that married couples do 
with, well, other couples. It's a way that grown ups like 
to have fun together."

"Oh," said the boy, imagining grown ups having fun 
together. "Is this about sex?"

Shelly blushed, clearing her throat. "Yes," she answered. 
"It is about sex. And when did you get so smart?"

Jonathan shrugged. He hated that this was taking so long 
to explain. All he wanted was answers.

"I still don't get it, Mom," he said pointedly. "I mean, 
what's so great about this swinging stuff? Don't you and 
Dad still love each other?"

Shelly looked at him calmly. Jonathan couldn't help his 
loyal and innocent response. All he wanted was to make 
sure their family stayed together. He needed his mother's 
reassurance that she and his father were after the same 
thing.

"Sweetheart," she said to him. "Your father and I are 
still very much in love. Swinging is just a hobby, you 
know, like those pictures you download on your computer."

Jonathan paled. "You know about that?"

Shelly grinned. "Of course I do," she said calmly. "And I 
also know what you do while you're looking at them."

"You what?" He said, shuddering. "But how?"

Shelly smiled. "Let's just say I've found plenty of 
evidence, mainly on the bath towels. But don't worry 
honey. You're not in trouble. That's my whole point. I 
haven't said anything about it because I know it's not 
hurting you. It's just something you do that makes you 
feel good. Swinging is the same sort of thing, just with 
other people. Your father and I have been doing it since 
before you were born. We feel it's made us even closer. I 
know it sounds crazy to you now, but I promise it will 
all make sense to you eventually. You'll just have to 
trust me."

Jonathan sighed. Part of him wished he could just 
disappear. The other part couldn't stop thinking about 
his mother's legs. He was dying to touch them. They were 
right there. All he had to do was reach over. If he could 
just lean over and put his hand on her thigh, but then 
what would she do? Would she get mad? Would she punish 
him? What if she didn't get mad right away, then thought 
about it and decided to punish him later? Jonathan 
couldn't decide what to do.

"What about Grandma and Grandpa?" He reasoned. "They were 
married forever, but they got divorced. How do I know you 
and Dad won't too?"

"Because," Shelly said, "that was different. Your 
grandfather met another woman and they had an affair. 
That's why your grandparents aren't together anymore. The 
difference with your father and I is that we don't keep 
secrets from each other. We don't wait years and years 
before we tell the truth about our feelings. We've made a 
promise to be honest and open about everything. It's one 
of our house rules."

"And what about me?" Jonathan wondered. His mother gave 
him a puzzled look. "You haven't been honest and open 
with me," he added. "You've been lying and hiding things 
from me, even Tiff. Aren't I part of this house, too?"

Shelly leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, 
holding him by the chin. "Of course, you are, darling. 
And don't ever think otherwise. We just believe there's a 
certain level of growth you have to reach on your own 
before you're able to handle certain things."

"Oh," he said, cheering up again. "Is that what you meant 
before, when you said I was ready?"

"Exactly," she answered. "Your body is changing, just 
like your sister's. She's starting to become a woman. 
You're starting to become a man. So, from now on, the 
house rules will apply to all of us."

"That sounds good," he said, finally smiling. "So, are 
there any other house rules I should know about?"

Shelly paused. "Other house rules?"

"Yeah, you said being honest was one of the house rules. 
So I figured there must be other rules too."

"Oh," Shelly said, blushing a bit. Jonathan had put her 
on the spot. Over the years, she and Greg had come up 
with a few simple rules just to aid their marriage. It 
wasn't something they talked about everyday. Still, 
Jonathan waited as Shelly forced herself to remember 
something. 

"Well, um," she stumbled. "I guess the only other really 
big rule is keeping all family business within the 
family."

"Okay," he nodded. "I can do that. As long as you promise 
to stop hiding things from me."

"You have my word."

"Thank you," he said. Then, suddenly, he was quiet again.

"What is it, honey? Shelly asked, sensing his anxiety. 
"You look like you want to say something. Don't be shy."

"Well," he offered slowly. "I was just thinking about 
that first rule. You know, about being honest and stuff."

"What about it?" Shelly wondered, tousling her son's 
hair.

"Well," he continued cautiously. "There is something I 
need to be honest about."

"Oh?" She smiled. "I'm all ears."

Jonathan swallowed. "Well," he paused. "I just think you 
have really nice legs."

"Really?" said Shelly, extending her right leg in mid-
air. Her black pantyhose glinted all the way down to her 
spiked heels. "Well, thank you for saying so, honey," she 
added. "It must come from all the exercise I get chasing 
after you and your sister."

Jonathan didn't laugh. He was too busy studying her legs. 
If only he could muster enough courage to move his hand.

"I also, umm," he whispered, squirming. "I also like the 
way your legs look in those, umm."

"Pantyhose," his mother finished. Jonathan nodded 
quickly.

"Yeah," he said. "They look really pretty on you."

"You think so?" She said, running her fingers down her 
thighs. "I just bought these the other day. They're 
called Silk Reflections. They go really great with these 
shoes, don't you think?"

Jonathan throbbed in his pajamas. He shifted nervously, 
fumbling for words. "Mom," he said. "Do you think I could 
just, uh. I'd really like to, ah. May I please, um."

"Yes," said Shelly. "You can touch my legs."

"Really!" Jonathan blurted. "Are you sure that's okay?"

"Absolutely," she told him. "I would love it," she said, 
with a smile. Then, she slowly lifted her silk-laden 
stems and draped them across her son's lap. "As of 
today," said Shelly. "You are free to touch my legs 
anytime you want. In fact, why don't we make that our new 
house rule?"

Jonathan couldn't believe his good fortune. From that day 
on, Shelly wore pantyhose around the house everyday, not 
just for her husband, but especially for her son. 

His mother not only transformed into the hottest woman he 
had ever seen, but also the biggest slut he could 
possibly imagine. Her daily attire just for strutting 
around the house was reduced to four basic requirements. 
Her blouses had to gape wide enough to show off her 
abundant cleavage. 

Her skirts had to be short enough to show off not just 
her legs, but a good portion of her ass as well. Her 
shoes needed heels high enough to raise her exquisite 
legs on tall pedestals. And nothing went on her legs but 
countless pairs of the most luxurious pantyhose. In 
public, his mother would only tone down her outfits just 
a bit. 

When Greg managed to sit down with Jonathan and talk 
about the new family arrangement, he told his son how 
thrilled he was to learn that it was pantyhose that 
finally brought out the boy's libido. 

He loved knowing that his son had inherited his fetish. 
It gave them a common bond, which only grew deeper when 
Greg encouraged his son to take full advantage of his 
mother's try-anything disposition. Jonathan didn't need 
much persuasion before groping his mother was simply no 
longer enough. 

One night, after dinner, Jonathan sat his mother down on 
the sofa for a little heart-to-heart. Her black mini-
dress was short and tight, with nude pantyhose and 
strappy sandals. She gracefully crossed her amazing legs, 
to which Jonathan reached over and promptly began 
rubbing. Such open fondling had become a daily routine. 
Shelly politely listened as her 12-year-old son timidly 
confessed that he wanted to put his thing inside her like 
his dad. 

"Your thing?" Shelly blinked. Jonathan slowly nodded. His 
baby blues gazed longingly.

"Uh, huh," he answered. "Dad said it was okay."

Shelly smirked, feigning offense. "Oh, he did. Hmm. So, 
you went to your father for permission, before you asked 
me? Interesting."

Jonathan turned red. "No, it wasn't like that," he 
hastily explained. "We were just talking in the garage. I 
said something about wishing I could, you know, do it 
with you, like he does. Then, he said, 'Well, what's 
stopping you?' I said I didn't know. Then he reminded me 
about the honesty rule and said that I should just tell 
you. He figured if I was man enough to tell you, then I 
was probably man enough to, you know."

"Fuck me?"

He stopped. Shelly quirked her eyebrow, waiting quietly.

Jonathan half-nodded. "Mm hmm."

"What's the matter?" she said, dropping her voice. "Can't 
you say it?"

Jonathan froze. The word was right there on the tip of 
his tongue, but he held back. Despite the change in their 
relationship, it was still his mother who quietly sat 
there judging him. He knew things were different between 
them, but now she was prodding him to say dirty words 
right in front of her. It was one thing to curse with his 
friends at school, but cursing at home had never been 
allowed. 

Shelly just sat there, silently watching the boy squirm. 
Her wordless nudges prodded her reluctant son to find the 
nerve on his own. If Jonathan was truly ready to take the 
next step, then he had to prove it by himself. Weeks of 
calculated seduction had already passed just to push 
Jonathan to this point. Shelly waited patiently, giving 
her son all the room necessary to discover his own 
manhood. The room resonated as both mother and son 
anxiously breathed in and out.

"Mom," the boy muttered nervously. "I'd kind of like to 
umm."

Shelly opened her eyes expectantly. "What Johnny?" she 
asked breathlessly.

"Umm," he tried again. As he felt her excitement, the 
words slipped out by themselves. "I want to fuck you," he 
said honestly.

"You do?" his mother answered. Her shaky voice sounded 
half-grateful and half-unconvinced. She whispered back 
tauntingly, "And what are you going to fuck me with?"

Jonathan swallowed and turned away. He looked down and 
focused on her legs. Shelly uncrossed them. Jonathan 
caught a brief glimpse of her open crotch. Her legs 
crossed the other way. He couldn't tell for sure, but he 
thought he might have seen a wet spot. His penis 
throbbed.

"My cock," he said boldly. "I'm going to fuck you with my 
cock."

Shelly jolted in her crossed-legged position. To 
Jonathan's eyes, it looked to be some type of unexpected 
spasm. He wondered if just the act of telling his mother 
what he wanted had actually given her an orgasm. Perhaps, 
her aching hunger to feel his cock in her womb was just 
as crucial as his urgent desire to shove it in there. 
Maybe her body had just given her a reminder.

"Are you hard right now?" She asked hopefully. 

"Yes, Mom." Jonathan nodded. "Very hard."

Shelly swooned. "May I see it?"

Jonathan smiled, noting his opportunity to beat her at 
her own game.

"See what?" He said, grinning. To which Shelly tilted her 
head, blinked twice and answered simply.

"Your nice hard cock."

That was all Jonathan needed to hear. He stood up and 
dropped his pants in a flash. Shelly looked him in the 
eyes, a warm smile lighting up her face. Slowly, her gaze 
descended below his waist. His dick pointed straight up, 
tall and proud as a soldier. The head was bright purple, 
with a smooth shaft leading down to a pronounced set of 
hairless, cum-filled balls. Shelly licked her lips.

The conversation ended when Jonathan slid his cock in his 
mother's mouth. Normally, his mother begged to swallow 
every drop of cum she could get. That night, however, 
Shelly requested to watch Jonathan shoot his load. 

As Jonathan frantically slapped his meat in front of her, 
Shelly pulled up her slinky black dress and vigorously 
rubbed her knobby clit through her soggy pantyhose. In 
seconds, the boy squirted all over her nylon-covered 
cunt. The sudden shower drenched his mother's burning 
twat. 

Milky semen splashed against her jostling fingers. Shelly 
instantly exploded with a fierce, howling climax that 
rattled her from head to toe. 

As Jonathan collapsed on top of her, he found himself 
suddenly kissing his mother's responsive lips. They 
traded feverish kisses and held each other all night, 
only to wake up in each other's arms the next morning. 

For breakfast, Jonathan served his mother a brimming 
mouthful of rich creamy cum sauce. As she held the gooey 
broth in her open mouth, sloshing it around with her 
tongue, the shameless erosion of her usual ladylike 
appearance left Jonathan amazed. She gradually leaned 
back, dreamily closed her eyes and blissfully swallowed 
his warm cum down her eager throat. 
  
 * *

Back in the living room, Shelly was still gorging herself 
on Jonathan's manly cock. She cradled his balls in her 
soft hand, juggling his velvety sac. Her head steadily 
bobbed up and down.

"Mmpphhh shhlluurrpphh," she moaned, slobbing and 
gurgling like a greedy slut. Jonathan's hips swiveled and 
bucked in the air, jolting with intense pleasure.

"Oh fuck, fuck yeah, that's it!" He groaned. "Awww shit, 
Mom, you're the best. God, your mouth feels so fucking 
good. I'm gonna cum any second."

Hearing this, Shelly slowed down immediately, peeling her 
wet lips and tongue from his rod. She made a tight fist 
around the base, stifling his eruption.

"I don't think so," she said, mockingly. "Not yet. Not 
until we get something straight."

Jonathan slammed his fist to the floor. "What? What? For 
God's sake, I can't take it!"

Shelly let him feel her hot breath against his pulsating 
prick. She was always hungry for fresh cum, but she was 
still his mother. The boy needed discipline.

In a stern tone, Shelly demanded, "What's rule number 
nine?"

"Oh, no!" Jonathan cried. "Don't make me repeat that now? 
Please, Mom! I just want to cum!"

"And you will," she answered, squeezing his cock, 
flicking her tongue across the tip. "Right after you 
repeat rule number nine. Now, let's hear it."

Jonathan sighed. "Okay, fine," he said, clenching his 
eyelids, forcing his mind to recall the exact words. "You 
and Tiffany get to swallow all of our cum, unless me and 
Dad are given permission to cum another way." 

Shelly giggled. "Now see, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"I guess not." Jonathan sulked. "But I still don't see 
why we need that rule."

"Because," Shelly lectured, "without that rule, you and 
your father would just go around jacking off anytime you 
want, and that's no fun for me or your sister. We depend 
on you guys to keep those balls nice and full. Why would 
you want to waste all that good cum when you could save 
it for us?"

Hearing his mother put it that way, Jonathan didn't see 
how he could argue. Of course, at that moment, arguing 
was the furthest thing from his mind. 

"Mom, c'mon," he begged. "Seriously, you've got to finish 
me off. I'm dying."

Shelly gave in, probably more to quench her own slutty 
thirst, then just to stop teasing him. She crawled around 
and kneeled between her son's legs, frowning in mock 
sympathy as she noted the pained look on his desperate 
face. 

She casually unbuttoned her silk blouse and slipped it 
off her shoulders. Her massive tits barely fit inside the 
frilly lace cups of her white push-up bra. Jonathan loved 
his mother's mouth-watering melons almost as much as her 
hot pantyhose-covered legs.

"You don't mind if I take some of these clothes off, do 
you?" Shelly asked.

Jonathan shrugged. "Up to you, Mom. I'm sure I'll be hard 
again in a few minutes. We can always go to my room and 
fuck after dinner. Can't you just finish me off? I feel a 
huge load coming on."

"Oh, really?" Shelly smiled, licking her lips. "I'll bet 
it's nice and hot, too," she added, shivering. "All thick 
and creamy, ready to slide down my throat."

Jonathan moaned. Her fingers had closed softly around the 
head. Tenderly, she stroked his shaft down to the base. 
Her hand twisted as she gradually slid it back up. She 
pumped steadily, stirring his balls to a rolling boil 
that would soon have him shooting off like a canon. Pre-
cum oozed from the tip, luring her lips down for a hasty 
sample. Her tongue swabbed the swollen head, sponging the 
salty jism to her taste buds. Before Jonathan begged 
anymore, Shelly opened her mouth and wolfed his cock down 
to the root.

Her head went down, popped up, then down again, moaning 
and slurping each time. Her sloppy tongue lathered the 
veiny ridges in warm spit. Her soft hand pumped 
vigorously, jerking him in short, rapid strokes. She 
fist-fucked his throbbing cock until his legs trembled, 
signaling his imminent eruption.
 
Jonathan slapped his hand on the carpet. "Ohhh yeah!" the 
boy groaned, lifting his ass off the floor. "Suck it 
Mommy! Suck that cock!"

The feeling was so good he could almost cry. His hips 
bucked and his groans of ecstasy filled the whole house. 
The moment it felt like he was ready to explode, his 
mother slowed down, prolonging his agonizing pleasure. 

Shelly whispered softly, "Do you like the way Mommy sucks 
your cock?"

"Hmmmmm yeaahhh!!!" He wailed.

Shelly smiled, keeping him on the verge with her constant 
hand strokes. "What else do you like about Mommy?" she 
teased, with fire on her breath. "Do you like the way 
Mommy looks in her pantyhose?"

"Ohhhh yesssss," Jonathan cried, squeezing his eyelids. 
"I love it, Mommy!"

Shelly went down once more, licked his balls and slid her 
tongue up the length of his shaft. "You really do, huh?" 
She snickered. "You like them because they make Mommy 
look like a slut, don't you?"

Jonathan groaned. This was too much. He was just about to 
lose it. 

"It's true, isn't it?" His mother added. "You think I'm a 
slut. Your own mother. A dirty pantyhose-wearing slut. 
Come on, Johnny, admit it."

Jonathan nodded, but he couldn't open his eyes. He 
thought perversely, yes, you are a slut, as she scarfed 
his cock over and over. Repeatedly, he kept thinking to 
himself, make me cum, slut! C'mon, Mommy! Make me cum!

"That's right, honey," Shelly prodded. "I want to hear 
you say it. Look at your mother and say it!"

Jonathan forced his eyes open. He looked down and saw his 
mother's pleading blue eyes. The afternoon sunlight 
glimmered through her golden hair. Her red lips 
opened. Her tongue slid forward. Jonathan hollered as he 
reared up for a huge explosion.

"Oh fuck, Mom!" He shouted. "You dirty fucking slut! Eat 
my cum! Eat my fucking cum! Oh shit! Here it comes! You 
filthy slut! Eat my fucking cum!"

"Oh yes, sweetie!" Shelly exulted. "That's it baby! Cum 
in my mouth! Cum in Mommy's mouth!"

With one final stroke, Jonathan's cock fired hard. His 
swollen balls blasted shot after shot, spraying his 
mother's face with massive globs of thick, creamy spunk 
that gushed all over her tongue, splattered her lips and 
painted her entire face. Jonathan soaked his mother with 
cum. 

Still, Shelly plunged for another deep-throat. She 
cradled his balls, rolling them between her fingers, 
milking his cock for every drop of that tangy gravy. She 
sucked until Jonathan begged her to stop, writhing and 
struggling to escape her insatiable mouth. 

When Shelly finally sat up, she was out of breath. Her 
hair was matted and disheveled. Her face glistened from 
the sticky mixture of semen and sweat. 

"Mmmmm," she moaned, smiling and licking her creamy lips. 
"Now that's what I call a cum bath."

Jonathan grunted. He felt he could fall asleep any 
second. He lazily exhaled, then sat up and gave his arms 
a good overhead stretch. "No kidding," he said, nodding 
weakly. "You're a real mess. We should go take a shower."

"Oh, that's a great idea," she answered. "But first, I 
need to put away those groceries. I can meet you there in 
a couple minutes."

"Cool," he said, hopping up and heading to the master 
bathroom. "I'll try to save you some hot water."

"Oh, will you?" said, Shelly, rolling her eyes. "Gee, 
thanks a lot."

Jonathan chuckled. Shelly just shook her head. She 
wearily stood up and slipped off her shoes. She picked up 
her blouse and laid it neatly on the sofa. She chose to 
continue wearing her bra, along with her skirt and 
pantyhose.

As Shelly started to unpack the groceries, her daughter, 
Tiffany, burst through the front door with a flurry of 
profanity, slamming the door behind her.

"I swear to God," she shouted. "Boys are so fucking 
clueless!"

Shelly looked over from the kitchen with a subtle smirk. 
"Sweetheart," she said. "That's no way to talk about your 
brother."

"I'm not talking about Johnny," said Tiffany, stomping 
into the kitchen, with her blonde ponytail swinging 
behind. She rushed over to the counter, tore open a bag 
of carrot sticks and started chomping. "I'm talking about 
Adam."

"Shannon's brother?" Shelly said. "I didn't know you were 
seeing him again. When did that happen?"

"Just after." said Tiffany, about to explain, when she 
noticed the rather soiled condition of her mother's face. 
"Hey," she said, pointing at the slimy residue. "Is that 
fresh?"

Shelly nodded and smiled. "I think I just sucked your 
brother's brains out."

"Brains?" said Tiffany, swiping her index finger across 
her mother's cheek. "When did he ever have those?"

Shelly flashed her a hard stare. "Be nice."

"I'm always nice," Tiffany answered, smiling as her cum-
coated finger slipped into her mouth. "But you have to 
admit, any brains Jonathan might actually have are 
probably in his dick anyway. That is all he thinks with."

"Oh, is that so?" said Shelly, coming to his defense. "I 
don't recall you complaining about that when you were 
screaming his name two nights ago."

Tiffany smirked. "C'mon, that's different. I'm not saying 
we don't have fun together. I'm just saying, he's, well."

"Well, what?" said Shelly, glaring at her daughter. 
Tiffany wouldn't look her in the eye. Jonathan's cum had 
left streaks all over her mother's chin. Most of them 
weren't even dry. Obviously, Shelly didn't mind.

"He's just," said Tiffany, fumbling for words. "You know, 
he's... a guy." She said ruefully. "He's like all guys."

"Hmm," said Shelly. "He's like all guys, eh? Would that 
include your father?"

Tiffany sighed. Everyone knew how much the girl 
worshipped her father. Only Shelly knew just how far that 
worshipped had gone.

"Well, no," Tiffany answered, huffing in frustration. 
"C'mon, Mom. That's not fair. Daddy's different. He's, 
like, a real man."

Shelly nodded. "You're right about that. And maybe it's 
just possible, with a little help from your father, that 
your brother may grow up to be a real man, too."

Tiffany sucked her teeth. "Oh, okay. So out of the whole 
male population there might be two on the whole fucking 
planet that aren't complete assholes. Yippee!"

Shelly gave her a daughter another sideways glance, 
shaking her head again. "Honey, are you going to tell me 
what happened between you and Adam today, or will I have 
to resort to torture?"

"Well, that all depends," the girl answered, with a 
naughty grin. "Are you going to offer me a welcome-home 
kiss, or will I have to beat one out of you?"

"Oh," Shelly blushed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be 
rude. I'm just a little messy right now."
 
"I can see that," said Tiffany, moving closer. "Why else 
would I be asking for a kiss? You know I love Johnny's 
cum as much as you do."

"Then get over here," said Shelly, grabbing her daughter 
and smooshing their lips together. Their mouths fell open 
and Tiffany's tongue darted between her mother's lips. 
She eagerly searched therein for any precious remnants of 
her brother's salty deposit. Shelly greedily sucked her 
daughter's slithering tongue, which made Tiffany shiver 
and swoon within her mother's arms. 

"Mmmm," Tiffany murmured softly. "Tastes good."

Shelly smiled. She tilted her head and offered her hungry 
daughter the sticky film clinging to the bottom of her 
chin. Tiffany zoomed in. Her soft wandering tongue 
sponged up every single bit. She nibbled and nuzzled her 
way down Shelly's neck, leaving her mother weak in the 
knees. 

"Mmmm," Shelly moaned and trembled. "You have to stop 
that. I can't take it." 

Tiffany cooed, squeezing her mother's breasts. "I don't 
want to stop."

Shelly gasped, "Honey, please. At least let me go clean 
myself up a little."

"But I like you dirty." The young girl teased. "I'm dirty 
too." 

Shelly squirmed. Her pussy was already dripping. 

"Can I lick your ass?"

Tiffany cracked a smile. "Do you really want to?"

Shelly nodded.

"Okay," her daughter answered. "But only if I can lick 
yours, too."


To be continued...


Copyright@2003
Filthy Fiction

Send comments to filthyfiction@hotmail.com 

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Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 23