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                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
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Marilyn
By Pakao (pskao@juno.com)

***

Marilyn gets pregnant, married, and has a baby boy when 
she's 16. Her much older husband is more interested in 
work than her, so she doesn't have any more babies 
until her son is able to give them to her. (MF, inc, 
anal, lac, rom)

***

The year before my seventeenth birthday was an exciting 
one. I got my first job, I was seduced by the company 
owner, I got pregnant, I got married, and I gave birth 
to my beautiful son, Robert Jr., all before my 
seventeenth birthday. My parents would have objected 
more as Robert Sr., the guy who got me pregnant, was 
over 25 years older than me, but he was also one of the 
richest men in our foothills community, and he made 
sure my parents' debts were paid with quite a lot extra 
to fill their bank account before we were married.

Being a young naive girl at the time, I thought Robert 
married me because I was pregnant and because I was 
good looking. I was half right. I later learned that 
Robert was quite the womanizer and had slept with many 
women, including many of the single women who worked 
for him. 

He never used condoms, but never got a woman pregnant 
until me. He had a low sperm count and was almost 
surprised as I was when I turned up pregnant. He was so 
happy that he'd finally have an heir, that he proposed 
to me even though I hadn't yet finished high school. He 
made sure I got the best prenatal care. He was happy we 
had a son.

I knew I was good looking. I love to dance and started 
taking ballet when I was little. I had to stop when my 
breasts got too big when I was 14, but I still took 
modern dance and ballroom. I knew my legs, butt, waist, 
and breasts were all of the right size and proportion 
to turn guys' heads around. Well, my breasts may have 
been too big, but boys didn't complain. I was the 
object of Robert's attention, wasn't I? Boys would tell 
me I was pretty, and they seemed to like my light-brown 
hair, too.

And for several years, Robert loved fucking me. I think 
now that it was because I was young. Every night became 
two or three times a week, became once a week, became 
once a month, and finally became two or three times a 
year on special occasions.

For years, I'd hoped to get pregnant again. My doctor 
did all the tests and told me that I was healthy and 
quite capable of having more kids. Robert had put a lot 
of sperm in me when we were first together, so I 
thought he might be the problem. He refused to see a 
doctor about it, though.

I was jealous of Flora because she had a two-year-old 
and was obviously pregnant again, even though she was 
48. In fact, quite a few of my friends were having 
babies or had recently had them. I was 40, healthy, 
able to have kids, but so far had only one son. Flora 
didn't even get married until she was 35!

I'd worked with Flora when I was 16 and she was eight 
or so years older. She mentored me at work, and became 
a good friend after I married Robert. When sex with 
Robert tapered off, I complained to Flora. It was she 
who told me about Robert's low sperm count. She knew, 
as she'd been one of Robert's lovers, and Robert had 
told her the doctors thought he'd never father a child. 

She told me about his other lovers, too. I didn't get 
angry with her because she told me that Robert had 
mostly stopped seeing other women when we were married, 
and had completely stopped seeing them a couple years 
after marriage. Apparently, he was putting all of his 
efforts into his business and didn't have time for sex, 
extra-marital or not, anymore.

Well, that was a comfort, but frustrating. I wasn't 
going to lose Robert to another woman. I was going to 
lose him to his business.

When I complained to Robert, he said, "Well, Marilyn, 
why don't you take a lover? Just be sure he's discrete. 
If word gets out that I'm a cuckold, I'll ruin both you 
and him. You know I will. You know I can."

I didn't want a lover. I wanted a husband who wanted to 
fuck me. Because of Robert's low sperm count, I'd never 
taken birth control. I asked him, "What if I get 
pregnant?"

He looked at me and thought before replying, "I'll 
accept any child you have as my own, but don't expect 
me to take anything away from Bobbie. He's my son. Any 
kid you have will be taken care of, but it'll be 
peanuts to what Bobbie gets when I die. Besides, you're 
40 years old now, Marilyn. You may not be able to have 
any more kids."

I raised my skirt and showed him my soggy panties. "Are 
you sure you don't want to satisfy me any more, 
Robert?"

"I'll be 66 in a couple of weeks. I have difficulty 
getting hard."

"You can still use your tongue and fingers, can't you? 
You used to lick me so good," I replied.

"Frankly, Marilyn, I'm at the age where I find making 
money more interesting than sex. I had plenty when I 
was younger. You just find yourself a discrete lover, 
make sure he doesn't have any diseases, and have fun. 
I'm not jealous, and maybe if you tell me of your 
adventures, you'll get me hard again," was his 
response.

That wasn't quite it, though. A couple of days later, 
Robert surprised me with some presents: some dildos 
ranging from large to very large, and several vibrators 
of different shapes and sizes. I had fun experimenting 
with them all in various combinations. It took 
practicing several times a day for me to finally be 
able to work the largest dildo into my pussy; it was 
huge, about 3" in diameter, and so long I never could 
get it all in. Maybe a horse could have gotten it all 
in, but I doubt if a pony could have.

And the vibrators! A couple were shaped like dildos, 
but I found I preferred a big dildo in me to a 
vibrating one. There was one shaped like a dildo but 
with an extension that ended in little wings that 
surrounded my clit--it was good. There was a little 
egg-shaped vibrator that I enjoyed putting inside 
before putting a big dildo in me. My favorite was a 
little bullet-shaped thing that really got my clit 
going. With that and the egg and a big dildo in me, I 
often lost track of time, having orgasm after orgasm.

I'd play with my toys while lying on Robert's side of 
the bed. The first time he felt the wet spot when going 
to bed, I was naked and fingering myself when I told 
him, "Thanks for the toys, dear. Those are my juices 
you feel on the bed. Are you sure you don't want me any 
more?"

He put my hand on his dick and said, "No, that's fine, 
Marilyn. As you can see, even your scent and your 
obviously sexy and horny body doesn't get me hard any 
more. Let's just sleep. I'm glad you thought of me, 
though. You go ahead and get off on my side anytime you 
want as long as I'm not here. Try not to be too noisy, 
dear."

I was frustrated as hell.

I needed a dick that squirted real sperm.

I wanted to get pregnant, and plastic toys couldn't do 
that.

* * *

About a month after Robert's 66th birthday party, I was 
having fun on my bed when I noticed the bedroom door 
was cracked. Now, I always closed the door before 
having my private fun. I knew the housekeeper was busy 
vacuuming (I could hear it) and the only other person 
in the house was Bobby, my son. I thought I saw 
movement. Was Bobby out there watching me masturbate?

Part of me was outraged. My son is *spying* on me!

Part of me was surprised. My *son* is spying on me!

Part of me was thrilled. My son is spying on *me*!

As I approached orgasm with part of my attention on who 
was outside the door, I realize that I'm noisy when I 
come. I heard myself screaming as waves of pleasure 
exploded from my vagina. When I was done, I looked back 
at the door and it was closed.

Did I dream the door was open? I didn't think so.

* * *

Bobby, our 23-year-old son, still lived at home. He was 
really smart, well-muscled, and good-looking. He 
started schooling when he was five, skipped a grade 
between junior and senior high school, and managed to 
graduate in three years from a nearby state university 
with honors in his dual major of accounting and 
computer science. He got his MBA the following year, so 
he had three degrees, one of them a graduate degree, 
after four years of college.

When I talked to him before he skipped the grade before 
high school, he told me that school was too easy for 
him. He'd thought about it, and realized he could 
either glide through school getting mediocre grades but 
not working very hard (as I had), or he could get 
through it as rapidly as he could and try to make 
something of himself. He looked on his dad as 
competition, or at least as an example of how to 
succeed.

When I asked him about always being the youngest in his 
class, he said that was why he was always working out. 
He didn't look his age and was stronger than most kids. 
While I was taking dance, he was taking Oriental self-
defence courses, so he was able to defend himself. He 
told me that when in grade school, the older kids tried 
bullying him, but he fought back so well that they 
stopped. He used his charm to keep the bullies from 
bullying other people, too. The bullies kind of became 
his gang, although he didn't like their brand of humor, 
but the teachers and administrators liked him for 
keeping "his gang" in line.

After skipping a grade, he had to prove himself to the 
high schoolers, too. Bobby was good. He couldn't be 
intimidated, could charm most of his fellow students, 
and could easily beat the one or two bullies who wanted 
to prove themselves. He didn't brag about his exploits, 
but I talked to him after seeing unusual rips in his 
clothes a couple of times, and got the whole story out 
of him. He didn't hold grudges, and would offer to help 
other kids with their homework. He made peace this way. 
As in grade school and junior high school, Bobby became 
very popular in high school with both the other kids 
and with the teachers and administrators.

He started noticing girls when he was 14 and a junior 
in high school. I suppose he really started noticing 
them much earlier, but he was 14 when he started 
bringing girls home and going on dates. Since Robert 
had already started tapering off in the bedroom and was 
really busy at work, it was up to me to talk to Bobby 
about sex and drive him around on his dates. I warned 
him not to get any of the girls pregnant, and to use a 
condom anyway to protect himself from disease. I 
provided several books about sex and disease and 
pregnancy to help him decided for himself. (He was 
smart.) I bought him a case of condoms and told him to 
get back to me when they ran out.

I'd seen him looking at me in my leotards when I took 
him to his class before going to my dance class, and 
he'd try not to stare when I was in my bathing suit, so 
I knew he liked the way I looked. I didn't think 
anything of it. He was a normal boy with raging 
hormones. He stopped being so obvious as he got older, 
and I could rarely catch him looking at me out of the 
corner of his eye by the time he went to college. I 
kind of missed his lustful stares.

During summer break, Bobby would work with his father 
before going back to college. Robert told me that Bobby 
was one of his top workers and he'd have no trouble 
leaving him the company. However, Bobby told me that he 
didn't really like the work he did for his father.

There was a mild argument between them after Bobby got 
his MBA, which Bobby won. Bobby agreed to help Robert 
out when necessary, but he wasn't going to work there 
very much. He had his own projects to work on. There 
was something new called the internet, and Bobby had 
some ideas on how to make money on it. He'd live at 
home and rent his bedroom and an office from us. (Our 
house is really a mansion, with more than enough rooms 
for the three of us and the live-in housekeeper.) 
Neither Robert nor I was too clear on what Bobby was 
doing, but Bobbie was making a fortune. When he sold 
out after several years (just before the tech stock 
crash), he had more money than Robert. But I'm getting 
ahead of myself.

* * *

I masturbated again the day after I first noticed the 
door cracked open. I payed attention to myself and 
maybe made my moans a bit louder. The door cracked open 
again. The thought of my own son watching me masturbate 
was no longer a shock, but was a thrill. I was quite 
loud when I came. The door closed.

After washing and getting dressed, I went to find Bobby 
working in his office. I said, "Hey, big boy, feeling 
like going out tonight? I'm tired of staying in and 
could use a night of dining and dancing."

"Sure, Mom, what time?"

"How about 7:30?"

"OK, I know just where to take you," Bobby replied.

I was excited. I was going on my first date ever. I 
didn't count the times Robert took me out after we were 
married, and he never dated me before we were married.

I knew Bobbie was a good dancer, because I'd taught him 
myself. He and the students in my dance classes were 
the only guys I'd ever danced with, except for my dad 
at my wedding.

To make the night really special, I went out and bought 
myself a very sexy cocktail dress. It was cut low 
enough to show my bra when I leaned forward, but 
plunging enough in the back that it didn't need a 
zipper; it had a string that tied in back to make my 
waist look narrow. It had a skirt that flared at the 
hips to mid-thigh. It was black with tiny, sparkly 
beads highlighting my breasts and hips.

I also wanted to highlight my legs, but I didn't buy 
panty hose but instead bought thigh-highs with a pretty 
pattern on the calves and ankles. I bought a matching 
thong and bra set. I'd never worn a thong, but liked 
the feel of the silk running up my butt crack, and the 
fact that I could see my pussy though the front. The 
bra was thin, too, so I could see my nipples though it. 
I knew if I leaned forward in the dress, someone might 
see my nipples through the bra.

I felt sexy, all dressed up with my light make-up on.

Bobby's eyes bulged when he first saw me coming down 
the stairs. He said, "Wow! You're so beautiful, Mom! 
They're going to check your I.D. for sure tonight!"

"Flatterer," I said as I smiled up at him and took his 
arm.

Bobby took me to a small French restaurant near the 
county government center that I didn't even know about. 
I noticed him looking at my legs as he handed me out of 
the car. When he ordered a bottle of wine, I was 
surprised when the waitress asked to see my I.D. I 
laughed as I showed it to her, and smiled at Bobby. I 
said, "You paid her to do that, didn't you, Bobby."

"No, I swear!"

The food was excellent despite the poor location. I 
wondered how Bobby knew about it. He told me he'd taken 
other women here. In fact, Flora had recommended it to 
him. That surprised me. I didn't even know that Bobby 
talked to my friends when I wasn't there.

We had fun touching knees under the table.

I think he saw my thong as he handed me back into the 
car.

After dinner, Bobby took me to a dance club. I knew 
about this club from other students in my dance 
classes. I didn't know that Bobby knew about it. He 
said, "Sure, Mom. I bring women here to practice what 
you taught me."

I thought it unusual that he parked in the dark corner 
of the rather-empty parking lot, away from the club. 
This time, I deliberately opened my legs wider than 
necessary as I took his hand after he opened the car 
door to help me out. Although I noticed him start a 
little at the sight of my pussy through the thin thong, 
he was quite the gentleman and tried not the stare. 
After taking his arm, I looked up and said, "Call me 
`Marilyn' tonight, Bobbie. We're on a date."

He said, "Absolutely, Marilyn," pecked me on my cheek, 
and opened the door to the club to let me in.

It being a Thursday night, the place was not crowded. 
We got a small table by the dance floor, ordered drinks 
(I was again carded to my surprise), and danced to the 
first number, a slow dance. We were good on the floor. 
We both love to dance, and we felt like Fred and Ginger 
out there on the floor. We danced several dances 
together before they lowered the lights.

When the lights were lowered, Bobbie put both arms 
around me and pulled me close. He caressed my back and 
slid one hand down to my butt and pulled me tight. I 
could feel his dick against my belly. He felt bigger 
than Robert. I nuzzled his neck while his hands roamed 
all over: my butt, my back, the sides of my breasts as 
they bulged out from being pressed into his chest. I 
could feel my nipples growing hard and my thin panties 
filling with juice. God! My own son was feeling me up 
on the dance floor! And I loved it!!

When the light came back up, we broke apart. I'm sure 
that my face was red; I felt flushed. Bobby looked like 
he was breathing hard, too. We sat out the next dance.

At the table, we finished our drinks and order another 
round. After it came, I felt a touch on my thigh. Bobby 
was touching me! My own son was touching me! He was 
rubbing his own mother's thigh! I opened my legs. He 
ran his hand up almost to my stocking tops. I scootched 
down a little. My own son was feeling his own mother's 
naked thigh! He was feeling my pussy though my juicy 
panties!

The song ended, and I suggested we dance again. We did, 
and when the lights turned down again, I pressed myself 
against him. This time, his hand slid under my clothes. 
He felt the string between my naked butt cheeks. My son 
was feeling my naked ass! He slipped a hand into my 
dress and felt my bra-covered boob. My son was 
squeezing my breast! He slipped under the bra and found 
my nipple. My son, my very own son, was tweaking his 
own mother's nipples! And I wanted him to!! I'd never 
realized that my breasts and nipples were so sensitive.

When the lights came back up, we hastily broke apart 
and went back to the table. This time, I just scrunched 
down before he even touched me. His hand slid right up 
to my pussy and I felt him pulling my panties aside to 
find my clit and hole. I'd never felt this way before, 
even when Robert first seduced me. My own son was 
rubbing my clit and fingering my hole! Bobby was going 
to make his own mother come on his fingers! And I 
wanted more than fingers!

Before he made me scream in orgasm, I said in a husky 
voice, "Let's get out of here!"

We finished our drinks, paid up, and left the club. I 
was so excited. I was going to get fucked! My own son 
was going to fuck me! Bobby was going to fuck his own 
mother! And I needed his big cock!

The corner where Bobbie had parked the car was away 
from the club. The passenger side faced the freeway 
through a chain-link fence with scraggily vines growing 
on it. The front of the car faced a dark building. 
Except for people speeding by on the freeway, the 
passenger side of the car was pretty isolated.

As at the restaurant, Bobby walked me to the passenger 
side and opened the door. As I brushed past him, he 
caught me in his arms, twirled me around so that my 
back was against the back door, and started kissing me. 
Real kisses. Kisses that made my pussy gush and my toes 
curl up in my dancing sandals. I was so involved with 
the kisses, that I didn't realize he'd untied my dress 
and undone my bra until I felt him leave my lips and 
begin suckling my beasts as if he were trying to get 
milk from me.

Oh, God! It felt so good! I never realized that I could 
have an orgasm from my son suckling my breasts! I 
moaned. I came. I may have screamed, but I'm not sure.

I think Bobbie pulled down my panties while I was 
coming, as the next thing I knew, Bobbie was lifting 
one of my legs and sticking his tongue in my bare 
pussy. He licked the length of my gash and teased my 
clit before sucking hard on it. I came so hard that I 
would have fallen had Bobbie not held me up. My own son 
was the first man to lick my pussy! Robert used to like 
having me suck him, but he never licked me. My own son 
was the first! He made his own mother come with his 
tongue!

I was still in a daze when Bobbie stood up, holding one 
of my legs on his shoulder, and placed my hand on his 
now-bare cock. I put its head in my hole, and Bobbie 
pushed it all the way into me with one thrust. What a 
thrust! Bobbie is a lot larger than his father, and a 
lot thicker too. I put my face into Bobbie's neck and 
screamed in orgasm as he bottomed out. My own son was 
fucking me! He was fucking his own mother! He was 
making his own mother come with his big cock! I'm not 
sure how many times I came or how long he fucked me. It 
seemed forever. I wanted it to last forever.

Eventually, Bobbie came inside of me. We kissed and he 
let my leg down. He reopened the door to let me in, 
picked up my clothes, walked around to the driver's 
side, tossed my clothes into the back, and got in. I 
turned to him, naked except for my stockings and 
sandals, and said, "I hope we can do that again. I've 
never had such a good fuck!"

Bobbie kissed me, kissed my boobs, felt my spermy 
pussy, and then pulled the lever to make my seat flat. 
After caressing and kissing me some more, he started 
licking my pussy again. I grabbed my thong from the 
back seat and put it in my mouth to muffle my screams 
as Bobbie licked me to another orgasm. My own son was 
licking his own come from his own mother's pussy! I 
could feel my nipples and breasts swell, and my pussy 
and asshole trying to suck something, anything, in.

Bobbie then climbed between my spread legs and put his 
already-hard cock back into me. Bliss! With his mouth, 
he took my thong from my mouth and kissed me. I 
screamed into his mouth as I came. I could feel him 
pinching my nipples. I came, screaming into his mouth. 
He sucked one of my nipples. I screamed in orgasm, 
almost deafening us in the confines of his car. I was 
aware enough to realize that we'd come together this 
time.

Bobbie climbed off of me back to his seat and said, 
"Wow! You're the best, Mom! I never knew sex could be 
so good! Maybe it's because I also love you. Maybe it's 
because you're the most beautiful woman, inside and 
out, that I know. Maybe it's just because you're such a 
fantastic fuck. And maybe it's because you're my 
mother!"

I replied, "And maybe it's because you're such a good 
lover and we're really good together. There's something 
deliciously wicked about fucking my own son, about my 
own son fucking his own mother! The touch of incest, 
hell, the battering ram of incest helps makes us really 
good together, Bobbie! I think I'm addicted to you 
after tonight!"

He said, "I certainly hope so." I reached for my 
clothes and he added, "No, Mom. Stay naked until we're 
home. Put your seat up and display yourself proudly to 
whoever wants to look. You're too beautiful to be 
hidden!"

I could feel my nipples swelling and my pussy juicing 
up again as I put my seat upright. The idea of being 
seen naked by any anonymous driver on the road was 
exciting. By now, it was dark enough that there really 
was very little risk of actually being seen, but just 
taking the risk was a thrill.

I was wrapped in a post-orgasmic glow and a cocoon of 
love. I didn't even notice that Bobbie had started the 
car. I didn't try to hide myself, but my breasts are 
large enough that they sag and are difficult to see 
below the windowsill of the door. Eventually I noticed 
that we were not headed home. "Where are we going?" I 
asked.

"Just a little, secluded place I know," was Bobbie's 
reply.

Before long, Bobbie turned onto a secluded road, and 
soon we were along on a hilltop overlooking the town. 
Although I'd never been to one, it looked like a make-
out place to me. I turned to Bobbie and said with a 
smile, "What naughty things are we going to do here?"

"Just a minute," he said as he got out, went around the 
car, opened my door and gave me his hand. "Step on out, 
and I'll show you. Leave your sandals on."

I took his hand and he pulled me up into his arms and 
started kissing me. His hands caressed my back, my 
butt, my breasts, my pussy. He closed my door and led 
me to the hood. Kissing me again, I could feel him 
start getting hard again. Then I felt him worm a finger 
into my asshole. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"I think you've never been fucked there, right?"

I nodded.

"I'm too late to take the cherries from your mouth and 
pussy, right?"

I nodded again, looking him in the eye.

"Will you let me take the cherry from your ass? I'll be 
easy on you. I've done this before and won't hurt you. 
God, the last thing I want is to hurt you."

I panted a couple of times, then said, "OK. We're being 
really wicked tonight, aren't we?"

He smiled at me and said, "Absolutely! Here, turn 
around and bend forward over the hood."

When I did so, I could feel him taking the juices from 
my pussy and using them to smear my asshole. He smeared 
juices inside my asshole. He smeared juices on his 
cock. I was so excited, that I kept on dribbling more 
juices, which he smeared into my ass. He started using 
two, then three fingers to get my juices into my ass, 
and wiggled his fingers around when they were a couple 
of knuckles deep. His other hand was stroking my back, 
my thighs, my breasts, and dipping around to fondle my 
clit and pussy. I think he was relaxing me.

Then he stood up and I felt his cockhead at my asshole. 
My own son was going to be the first man in my ass! My 
son was going to be the first man to fuck his own 
mother's asshole! I was ready. I shoved back a little.

His cockhead popped through the ring of my sphincter. 
He pushed further in. Further. Out a little, in a bit 
more. Soon I felt his balls against my pussy. My son 
had his cock all the way in my ass! My son had all of 
his big dick in his own mother's ass! He'd taken my 
anal cherry! I had another screaming orgasm. No one but 
us was around to hear.

I was vaguely away of him squeezing my breasts, 
pinching my nipples, pinching my clit, fingering my 
pussy, kissing my neck and back. Mostly I was aware of 
his big dick sawing back and forth in my ass. I think I 
may have pasted out from the pleasure, but time stood 
still for me. Bobbie blasted another load of his sperm 
into my ass, and I came out of my trace after another 
orgasm. I realized that I was lying on the hood and 
Bobbie's hands were holding up my hips. We stayed 
joined like that for several minutes, for an eon, I 
don't know. Eventually, his cock shrank and slipped out 
of my ass. He held me up, opened my door, and carried 
me to my seat. I was still dazed. I'd never had sex so 
good. I didn't even know it was possible.

I came out of my trance on the way home and realized I 
was sitting in a pool of sperm. "I'm soaking your 
seat," I said.

"You're not the first," was his response.

I looked at him and asked, "What?"

He confessed, "I've had many women in this car and at 
that spot. Many of your friends, Flora, for instance."

I looked at him in surprise and asked, "Is that why you 
bought a full-sized car when most boys, er, young men 
prefer sports cars?"

"Absolutely. By the way, are you using birth control? I 
may have gotten you pregnant tonight."

I said, "Oh, God! I hope so! I've wanted more children 
since you were born! Your father...um..."

"...has a low sperm count. I know. Flora told me. By 
the way, she's the mother of one of your grandchildren 
and is pregnant with another. At least, she thinks the 
kids are mine and not her husband's. Several other of 
your friends, like..." and here he rattled off the 
names all of my friends who'd had children recently 
"...are also the mothers of your grandchildren. I don't 
have a low sperm count."

My jaw dropped. I said, "That means that I 
could...well..."

"...be the mother of your own grandchild. Yes, that's 
possible. And I could be the father of my own brother 
or sister. Talk about wicked! That's really naughty!"

I grunted as I came without even touching myself. I 
could be the mother of my own grandchildren! How 
exciting! I opened my eyes and said, "I hope you don't 
mind. I want as many of your children as you're willing 
to give me and my body is capable of having!"

Bobbie grinned at me and said, "Absolutely!"

By now, we were turning into the drive to our house. I 
was getting a little nervous. "What are we going to 
tell your father? Should I get dressed?" I asked.

"No way. Let's tell him the truth. Didn't he advise you 
to take a lover?" Bobbie said.

"Yes," I said in a small voice.

"Didn't he say to be discrete?" Bobbie asked.

"Yes," I said again.

"Well, who'll be more discrete than me? Who wants the 
best for both you and Dad? Who can give you the babies 
you want? I think I'm the perfect choice as your 
lover!" Bobbie said.

By now Bobbie had parked the car. He said, "Take up 
your clothes, but don't put them on. The housekeeper's 
in her room by now and won't see. I want you to come 
with me naked into the house and we'll find Dad 
together. We'll tell him what we've done tonight."

I was nervous and very scared facing Robert while naked 
with our son's sperm coating my thighs and crusting on 
my pubic hair; but with Bobbie next to me, I was able 
to do it. Robert agreed with Bobbie; Bobbie was my 
perfect lover. I was so surprised. What surprised me 
the most was that Robert seemed more interested in me 
sexually, now that our son was my lover. He even joined 
us few times in bed over the years, and I got to feel 
the thrill of two cocks in me at the same time. It was 
usually Robert's cock in my mouth or ass while Bobbie 
was in my pussy. I wanted Bobbie's sperm in my womb, 
where it belonged, even though he did indeed get me 
pregnant that night of our first date.

First date. Yes, we've had others. Bobbie is a lot more 
romantic than Robert, and loves taking me dancing. He 
loves showing me off, even when I'm eight months 
pregnant. Yes, I got pregnant roughly every eighteen 
months for nine years. As my kids were also Robert's 
grandkids, he's planning on leaving them more than 
peanuts, especially as Bobbie's fortune is also pretty 
big and Bobbie's not interested in taking over Robert's 
company. Maybe one of Robert's and my grandkids (my own 
children!) will be interested and capable of running 
the company. Robert says he wished I'd started making 
babies earlier with Bobbie as he hopes to still be 
alive to teach our oldest grandchild the business.

Although I'm apparently too old to make any more 
babies, I'm still lactating. I've lactated since I was 
eight months pregnant with Bobbie's first child by me. 
All my children, especially Bobbie, love my milk. Even 
Robert likes it in his coffee. Although I weaned my 
kids when they were four, I still let them suckle on 
occasion to soothe them. Besides, I find suckling gives 
me orgasms.

Bobbie and I found that when he suckles me while 
fucking me, I express my milk into his mouth. My let-
down reflex really goes when I have an orgasm. Oh, 
that's the best feeling in the world! My son making me 
come with his cock inside of me while expressing my 
milk into his suckling mouth! What a feeling! It's 
gotten so that even when the younger ones suckle, I 
have mild orgasms.

I wondered just how much milk I could actually produce 
and for how long, and asked my doctor. He said my milk 
production depended a lot on demand, and that I could 
produce milk as long as needed. Well. There's a lot of 
demand for my milk in our house, and all my children as 
well as Robert think my milk is necessary for their 
cereal and hot drinks. I'm going to be lactating a long 
time. I just have to eat the right foods.

The End

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 53