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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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Copyright 2010 by Senor Smut - This story may not be
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Angela's Diary - 8
by Senor Smut (senorsmut@gmail.com)
***
Chapter 10 of the continuing story of a mother's journey
into debauchery, courtesy of her teenage son. (FM, inc,
beast, rom)
***
Chapter 10
"Honey, you look fantastic!" my mom gushed as I walked
into the kitchen of the little house she shared with my
dad. "Did you get some good news?"
I laughed, a bit bewildered. "I look good?"
"You look so happy. You're glowing," she said, grinning
back at me. "Did you have fun with Tim last night?"
"Mom!" I said, pretending to be much more scandalized
than I felt. In the last few years, as I inched past 30,
she had begun to be slightly more open about sex than
she had been in the past, but it wasn't common enough
yet by any means that it still didn't surprise the hell
out of me. "No I didn't, he's up north with Laurel this
weekend. The only men in my life at the moment are David
and Charlie."
Yes they were both in my life...and in other things of
mine as well.
"Well whatever you're doing, keep doing it. You look 25
again!"
"I will," I promised with an innocent smile. And whoever
I was doing was going to keep doing me. "How's dad?"
"Last I heard he was swearing up a storm upstairs," my
mom chuckled. "It's times like this that I wish we had a
swear jar, then we could finally take that Hawaii trip."
I sighed and reached into the fridge to retrieve the
lemonade that was always there during summer. As I
poured myself a glass, I asked, "Why does he always do
that?"
"Swear?"
"No, insist on trying to do things that he knows he
can't do. He always ends up infuriated when he works on
the computer, or trying to work on a car with a computer
chip, or whatever."
"Because he's a man, honey. He's always been good with
his hands. He always fixed our roof, did the plumbing,
changed tires, whatever. It's one of the things that
makes him who he is."
"Well fine, but he's doesn't know how to use the
computer so all it does is drive him nuts."
Mom just smiled. "When you and Tim get to our age,
you'll understand. There will be something that you used
to be able to do that suddenly you can't do anymore, or
something Tim always could figure out and all at once he
won't be able to manage, and you'll be faced with the
option of swallowing your pride and admitting you've
gotten old and can't hack it, or you can keep pretending
that you're as capable as you were when you were young."
"Mom, you and dad aren't old," I admonished.
"Bullshit," she grinned, and I went all goggle-eyed at
one of my mom's rare instances of cursing. "And that's
one for the swear jar for me. There's more than one
morning I wake up thinking I should check into a nursing
home."
"What's with you today?" I asked with a chuckle. She had
mentioned sex and sworn in about two minutes. My mom was
still gorgeous, with the same build as she had when she
was in high school – she sometimes bragged she could
still fit into her prom dress, though it was so ugly I
couldn't imagine she'd want to except to prove the
point.
Her boobs were still high and firm and so was her butt,
she had a face that wore its few wrinkles well and made
her look distinguished, and she her blonde hair was shot
with a few streaks of white that made her look
knowledgeable and wise.
We couldn't be mistaken for sisters, but it was a tossup
in my mind who'd get more looks if we went out together.
And I couldn't help wondering how she'd look riding on
my dad's enormous cock – not that I knew what my dad's
cock looked like but he was a big, strong man and it
seemed right that he'd have a long, thick cock, but any
cock would look huge going in and out of my mom's tiny
little body and WHY WAS I THINKING LIKE THIS ABOUT MY
PARENTS??? God, David and Charlie had really fixed my
mind on sex!
My mom was blissfully unaware of my thoughts (and I
thank the Lord for that) and so I didn't die of
embarrassment as we chatted for a few minutes more.
Images of dad giving her a good, hard fuck kept flitting
through my head every few seconds, and it was
disconcerting...hell, it was discombobulating. I don't
know how many people reading this have ever really
visualized their parents having sex, but it's a thought
most people shy away from instinctively.
I've heard psychologists say it's even an instinctive
aversion to keep us from breeding with our own
bloodline. Whatever, it wasn't working for me at that
moment, and it was incredibly odd to suddenly think
about my little mom's big boobs jiggling and quavering
as she laid on her back with dad between her legs
plowing her hard, or her on her hands and knees and him
slapping his hips into her pale ass as she gasped in
pleasure –
And it suddenly struck me that this was maybe the exact
same sort of thing that David thought, and had always
thought, when he looked at me. Except that instead of
being embarrassed, he'd embraced it. He'd made it a life
goal to get me into bed, and he'd achieved it. If I had
the same sort of gumption I wouldn't stop until I was on
my belly with my dad's cock in my cunt and my mom's
pussy under my mouth, making all three of us gasp and
moan and come over and over...
Good Lord. I was going nuts.
I'm not even sure what we talked about toward the end,
honestly. I kept wondering what my mom's face would look
like when she came, what her pussy and ass tasted like,
whether she would return the favor if I went down on
her, how she would react if she walked in on me taking
dad from behind. Stupid, crazy thoughts, and I could
only try to keep my arms in front of my chest to conceal
my diamond-hard nipples and hurry upstairs as soon as
there was a lull in the conversation.
I found dad in the room that used to be my sister
____________'s bedroom but had been turned into a home
office since the kids moved out. Well, truthfully I
heard him a long time before I saw him – he's always
been a creative and interesting cusser, and his
flamboyant strings of swear words always got a laugh
from my school friends when I'd report them, and he was
in fine form as I came up the stairs: "...cocksucking
ratshit-sucking bird-brained motherfucker designed this
shoddy pail of moose spunk, that's what I want to know!"
Aww, just like old times. I was grinning as I came down
the hall. "Hi dad."
He looked up as I stepped into the office. "Oh hi honey,
I thought I heard you drive up."
"Yeah, I was downstairs talking to mom," I said
casually, pulling over the spare chair to the same side
of the desk that dad was sitting on. I looked on the
screen and saw that he had his program up and a few
field values filled in, but the surface of the desk was
strewn with a mad jumble of receipts and scrap paper and
I knew he was hopelessly at sea. "How's it going?"
"Don't even ask," he grumbled, hurling away a notepad he
had been looking at. "I can't figure this happy
horseshit out... sorry, I shouldn't swear in front of
you."
I laughed aloud at that. "Oh yeah, because I didn't hear
it all from you before I was eight."
He tried to look sheepish at that, but a grin wound up
creeping over his face. My dad is a big man, as broad as
a barn door across the shoulders and chest, with
enormous hands and an obvious and very masculine
strength – sheepishness really has no place in his
makeup. His personality is more like a bull than a
sheep, to be honest. He's as unsubtle and honest as a
golden retriever, and he just has a hard time censoring
his sailor's mouth, bless him. "I'm glad you're here
anyway," he told me. "I was about to chuck this bag of
squirrel nuts out the window. It just doesn't work."
"I think we can make it work," I told him
soothingly...and as I did I couldn't help but notice the
way the hard muscles of his chest stretched his tee
shirt, and the way his arms filled out his sleeves. I
remembered being picked up by those arms when I was a
little girl, being swept off my feet and tossed
squealing into the air, and even as I was being hurled
toward orbit I felt as safe as I would have in my own
bed because I knew, without a single shadow of a doubt,
that he would catch me in his enormous, scarred-fingered
hands just like I weighed nothing at all.
As big as I was now, I wouldn't have been surprised if
my dad could still toss me around the same way. He
looked his age, yes, but in a way that didn't seem to
diminish his energy or his virility. He still looked as
strong and as powerful as the man who made my
girlfriends' panties damp back in junior high school.
Except now it was my panties that were damp.
I won't bore you with the excruciating details of
patiently guiding my father away from smashing the
computer with a mallet and setting fire to the debris.
It took nearly two hours of me talking soothingly,
showing him again and again how to do things until he
finally got it, and trying not to think about how it
would feel if he threw me over the desk and plunged his
big fat cock into me...
And yes, it was a big, fat cock. Once the idea was in my
head I couldn't help looking, and it was pretty obvious
that he was packing something fat in his jeans. In fact,
from what I could tell, it might have been a lot like
David's cock... and David's cock was perfect.
Mom came up after a while and stood on the other side of
me from dad and it was all perfectly innocent except
that I couldn't stop visualizing them both naked and
rutting like teenagers, or naked and rutting on me, or –
at the end – my mom naked and beneath Charlie, moaning
in ecstasy. Yes, my mind went there. Yes, I know I'm
going to Hell. I was in a haze by the time I left, torn
between being sickened with loathing at my own
imagination and being too turned on to care.
I settled for racing home in the rain (not sure how I
didn't get a speeding ticket, honestly) and slamming the
car into the garage faster than I should have. If my
panties weren't literally on fire when I jumped out of
the BMW, they sure felt like they were, and I hurled
myself into the house as fast as my horny little feet
could carry me.
David was standing in the kitchen when I came in,
wearing baggy shorts and delightfully shirtless. He was
eating a peach, and he smiled when he saw me. "How were
grandma and grandpa?" he asked.
Charlie thrust his head under my hand in greeting as I
said – in more of an answer to his question than he
could know – "Baby, I am so fucking horny I can't
believe it!"
With deliberate slowness he took another bite of peach
and chewed it thoughtfully, regarding me coolly as I
petted the dog. Finally, he said, "You do remember what
I said when you left, right?"
I nodded, stroking Charlie's ears. He must have been
able to smell me with that exquisite nose of his,
because he thrust it between my legs and began to sniff;
I moved my feet further apart to give him all the access
he wanted.
"Tell me," David said, a hard edge in his voice that
sent a shiver down my spine.
"You said that Charlie's going to fuck me while I suck
your cock," I told him, a tremble in my voice. "And then
after he gets done with me, you're going to fuck me."
He nodded. "And you want that, don't you?"
"Yes." My nipples were so hard they ached. My pussy was
soaking my panties. I was dizzy.
"Tell me what you want."
He was forcing me to it, forcing me to admit what I
wanted – what my body craved and needed. Just a day
earlier I couldn't have said it to save my life, but now
I didn't hesitate. I even held my chin high and looked
my lovely son in the eyes as I said, "I want Charlie's
cock in me. I want him to fuck me while you shove your
cock down my throat. I want to suck the cum right out of
your perfect balls while he empties his in my cunt, and
then I want you to take his place and fuck me like the
bitch he's made me. Is that what you want me to say,
baby?"
His smile was Satanic and lovely and made my knees turn
watery. "You know it is, slut."
The word struck me for the first time, really and truly.
Slut.
I was a slut.
There was no denying it. I was fucking my son and my
dog, I had fucked girls and would fuck them again, I had
even thought of fucking my own parents (not that I'd DO
anything about that). What was that if not a slut? I'd
spent my whole life trying to be the good girl, and I'd
convinced almost everybody, myself included. Only my
son, my wonderful, wicked son, had seen through the
bullshit and realized what I really was. Slut, whore,
bitch, cunt, cum-dumpster... yes, I had heard all the
words in the past, applied them to other girls, and
never once thought they could or would apply to me. But
they did, and I fucking adored it.
I guess I should have felt worse about the realization.
Girls grow up trying not to get the reputation of being
a slut, and being horrified when someone refers to them
as one. It's a mean word, a dirty word, a condemnatory
phrase slapped on women who like sex more than they
"should." It doesn't just describe fucking – it implies
a whole range of moral and spiritual wickedness that
society, for whatever reason, just can't tolerate in a
female.
That's the crap we grow up with, that males who get laid
a lot are "ladies men" and females who do the same are
"sluts." I'd spent my life under that shadow, but now,
with everything that had happened, I realized I just
didn't care anymore. I loved fucking. I loved coming. I
loved making my partners come.
I loved cock, I loved pussy. I loved being someone who
people wanted to fuck, and I wanted to learn to be the
best fuck I could be. There was so much pleasure to be
had, so much pleasure that I'd spent so much time
avoiding; I wasn't going to avoid it anymore. I was my
dog's slut, my son's slut, and I'd be a slut for
whomever David wanted me to be a slut for. Yes, I was a
slut.
And I loved it.
David loved it too. He smiled at me wickedly and asked,
"Why aren't you wearing your dog-fucking clothes?"
I didn't waste another second. I was shedding my clothes
as I ran, leaving a trail as I sprinted toward the
stairs. Charlie followed along excitedly, though whether
he had picked up on my general eagerness or my sexual
arousal I have no idea. I was naked by the time I
hurried into my bedroom and opened the closet.
To say Charlie went nuts when I opened the box
containing my dog-fucking outfit would be to understate
it considerably. He hopped and leaped excitedly, and he
tried to mount me as I pulled on the crotchless jeans –
in fact he sent me sprawling to the floor and laughing,
since I was balancing on one foot when he hopped up and
wrapped his forelegs around my waist. I landed in a heap
with Charlie on top of me, humping my hip and panting
exuberantly.
I could only laugh, ruff his head, and feel the soft fur
of his sheath as it slipped along my skin. Eventually he
realized he wasn't getting anywhere with me in this
position and kindly permitted me to stand. I did and
pulled on the garish shirt – but then I got distracted
when he shoved his snout between my legs and started
licking me fast and deep in that amazing way he has.
Now, I've had better fucks that Charlie, but to this day
no human, ever, has given me head the way dogs do
instinctively. Given that, I just relaxed and let myself
enjoy it for a few seconds, reveling in the shivers that
stunning tongue of his was giving me. Honestly, it
wouldn't have taken much to make me come like a rocket
at that point and I was very, very tempted to let him do
just that, but the knowledge that David was waiting for
me downstairs, and the things the three of us would do,
spurred me on. I pushed Charlie away long enough to pull
on the crotchless jeans, and then we were racing each
other down the stairs.
Charlie won – you can't beat a dog in a foot race, or at
least I can't – and when I got downstairs David was
standing in the living room wearing nothing but a smile.
I wrapped my body around his and kissed him long and
hard, feeling my nipples digging into his chest and his
cock hardening against me as I did. His arms went around
me, holding me tight, and for a moment I just let myself
get lost in my lover's kiss.
Why couldn't I have this every day? Why couldn't my life
be this way all the time?
I guess we only really value what's rare, what's hard to
get, what's a challenge to attain and maintain. Nobody
would think gold was precious if it was as common as the
ground it's dug out of. Gold is precious because it
takes a hell of a lot of effort to get hold of it, and
there's not much to get hold of in the first place.
Being with David this way was my gold.
Not that he gave me much time to think about it, because
he was very eager to get me on all fours and let Charlie
do his thing. He had already spread out our splatter
sheet and even as he was kissing me he was guiding me
backward; I barely felt the sheet under my feet before
his hands were on my shoulders, urging me down. Down I
went, sinking to my knees – but only far enough so that
his splendid, thick, wonderful cock was hardening right
in front of my face.
I felt my tongue twitch just like it would have if I had
been looking at a steak after starving in a desert for a
week – I wanted it in my mouth. I wanted to feel the
weight of it on my tongue, the solidity of it between my
lips, and I had my mouth on him before I realized I was
even moving. God! How just the one drop of pre-cum on
the head of his cock sent shivers through me!
David let me suck him for a few moments, both of us
reveling in the way he felt in my mouth, but honestly
all three of us were too hungry for what was coming to
do this for long. For me, prolonging it was exciting,
but dogs are of the moment and self-restraint was
absolutely not Charlie's strong suit. He hopped around
for a bit and then mounted me, his forelegs on my
shoulders and his sheath and the tip of his cock riding
my spine.
"Yah know, mom," David mused as he pushed Charlie down
off of me, "this all feels really good."
"It does," I nodded. "It's going to be hard to go back
to normal when Tim and Laurel get back tomorrow."
He brushed my hair back off my face and cradled my chin
in his hand. I just looked up at him from my kneeling
position, eyes locked with his, and neither of us spoke
for a long, long moment. No more words were necessary.
Starting tomorrow we would need to be secret with what
we did; I know it didn't occur to either of us to stop,
just to be more circumspect.
Once we'd tasted this, there could be no going back no
matter how difficult it became. We smiled at each other,
and then David began putting down some cushions for me
to kneel on. Charlie was out of his furry little mind
with excitement, leaping into me and trying to mount
from every which angle – at one point he tried to fuck
my belly button – and his excitement was contagious.
I don't know if it was just the fact that I would soon
have my dog's cock in one end and my son's in the other
that got me so wet the moisture was running down the
insides of my thighs or whether it was memories of what
I'd suddenly been thinking about my parents or whether
Charlie, and maybe David too, were just exuding some
primal scent I couldn't even detect, or if it was some
combination of all of them. Whatever, my body was as
ready as it would ever be and my pussy had that
lingering, deep-down ache that can only be eased by
being filled by a lover.
The instant David got the cushions arranged I was on all
fours, and the instant I was on all fours, Charlie was
on my back and humping hard. That's not to say that he
found the right spot or the right angle instantly, dogs
being what they are, but he was signaling his enthusiasm
in unmistakable terms.
"He wants in his bitch," David observed with an amused
chuckle as he moved around behind me.
"His bitch wants him inside!" I said, suddenly serious
about it. I ever shocked myself a little with how fast
my playful mood vanished. One second I was all teasing
and laughs, and the next second I thought I would lose
my mind if Charlie didn't start fucking me right that
moment. Jesus I was horny! I was trying futilely to
angle my ass properly to capture the hard, pointed cock
tip I could feel poking my thighs and ass. "I wish he
could get in me without help!"
"He'll learn. Ready?" I could tell from the way Charlie
suddenly settled down that David had the dog's cock in
his hand and was getting ready to put him where he
belonged.
"So ready I'm going nuts, baby."
"Really?" He was teasing me now. I could hear it in his
voice.
"Yes baby," I said, my voice surprisingly husky. If
sheer need could communicate itself through tone and
timbre, it did then. "I really want it."
"How much?"
If pussies could groan in frustration, mine would have.
The day – the weekend – had worked me up so hard and
here I was on the verge of getting a magnificent fuck
from a glorious canine cock...and he was making me wait.
That little shit. "As much as I can, baby," I whispered
back fiercely. "Put him in me!"
"Maybe I will..."
"David! Please!" The urgency in my voice shocked me. I
knew David was just messing with me and he'd let me have
Charlie – or let Charlie have me, maybe better to say –
but he was going to make me squirm first, and the
squirming was something I didn't think I could take
then.
I NEEDED Charlie to fuck my pussy, just like I NEEDED
David to fuck my mouth, and if I didn't get them both
very soon I felt like I was going to wig-out. To this
day, my sheer level of craving at that instant still
amazes me. What can I say? It was like I'd just
discovered sex, and when something that wonderful makes
itself known to you, well, it's hard to be very moderate
about it.
Then, all at once, I guess David took mercy on me
because I felt the tip of Charlie's cock enter me, and
then the next instant he was all the way inside me, the
pencil-thin, hard cock getting thicker and longer with
every flutter of my heart, and he began hammering away
in the breathless, rapid way that only dogs can manage.
David had his hands on Charlie's ass to keep him from
pulling out before he knotted me, and I know he asked me
how it felt. But seriously – try to talk when a
Weimaraner is treating your pussy like a speed bag and
see how coherent you are. I tried to answer, I really
did, but all I managed was an escalating series of
yelping gasps, one every other thrust more or less.
Since then I've seen movies of me getting fucked by
Charlie and other dogs and I make the same noises all
the time in that first phase when the dog is fucking me
blind and his cock is growing in me with each thrust.
Once a firm tie is achieved the thrusting stops like
someone flipped a switch, so those seconds, certainly
less than two minutes, are the only times when I'm
really getting FUCKED by a dog. Don't get me wrong.
I love Love LOVE the feeling of a dog stuck in me, his
cock throbbing with every squirt of his precious semen
into my body, putting so much of his puppy-making juice
up into my womb that I feel like I'm going to split,
feeling him breathing, his body hot and vibrating atop
me, his soft fur on my skin, his panting loud in my ear
and his drool hot and wonderful on the back of my neck
and in my hair.
I always orgasm at least once during that time, usually
just by reaching back between my legs and pressing my
clit back so it pushes inside me against the pulsating
knot that has his cock stuck tight in me; usually I come
in a rippling series of climaxes that leaves me limp as
a dishcloth and so weak at the knees I can't even stand
up by myself.
But there is nothing else on Earth, at least nothing
I've ever felt, that can compare to the sensation of
being FUCKED by a dog. I don't mean to say that it's the
best sensation I've ever felt, or the most intense, or
the most emotionally satisfying (thought it is
wonderful, intense, and very emotionally satisfying) – I
mean that it's just completely unique. The speed, the
heat, the force, the fur, the strength, the urgency, the
incredible growth of the cock in me, the power, it's all
so completely of that experience, so completely unique.
There's nothing else in the whole world that feels that
way. Yes it answers something inside me – I was born to
love dogs in that way, and I firmly believe that – but
even without that essential need I have for it, even if
I was doing it for no other reason than it got my
cookies baked in a huge way, I would still adore the
sensations around it for their complete singularity, for
the way that they're part of something so beautiful that
feels so good.
Wow, I do tend to prattle on when it comes to sex, don't
I? Why doesn't anybody tell me I do this? It's
embarrassing!
Anyway, David stood behind Charlie as the dog pounded
his cock into me and I yelped and howled in pleasure
like a bitch in heat. Once Charlie was firmly and
happily knotted, his tongue lolling out in a self-
satisfied pant, my son came around the front of me and
wrapped a hand in my hair as he flexed his knees a bit
so his hard, perfect cock was right at lip level for me.
I didn't need an order to do what came naturally – I
opened my mouth and took him deep, caressing with lips
and tongue as I felt his flesh in my mouth. I'd have
happily – eagerly – sucked until he came down my throat,
and done so without being told or guided...but David had
other plans. David always has other plans.
As I took him to the back of my throat, David suddenly
pulled back. I tried to move forward to take his cock
back into me but when I did, he yanked my hair back hard
enough that I squeaked, as much from surprise as pain.
His hand held me tight and motionless, and he smiled
down at me as he pulled his cock from my mouth, a string
of my saliva connecting it to my lips.
"Dirty little whore," he whispered lovingly, and he
leaned in with his free hand to grab Charlie's collar
and steady him for what was to come. "I'm going to fuck
your pretty mouth, mom, and you're going to take it just
the way I want to give it. Understand?"
"Yes," I nodded, eager for his cock to be back in my
mouth.
That wasn't good enough though, and he gave another tug
on my hair to prove it to me. "I'm going to fuck your
mouth," he repeated sharply, his eyes glittering with an
air of command that sent a shiver down my spine, a
shiver that was half thrilled and half dreading. "You're
going to use your tongue and your lips, but you're not
going to move your head. I'm going to use you like the
cunt you are. Understand?"
I knew there was love behind the words and so it
softened them to my ears, but honestly I was so horny at
that moment that I'd have eagerly agreed had he been a
perfect stranger who didn't give a shit about me. The
tone, that tone of absolute and utter ownership and
control, melted me. I couldn't have resisted anything
said in that tone – something David used to get his way
many, many times after that.
So once more I whispered, "Yes, David," but this time I
didn't accompany it with a nod. I was told to hold my
head still and so I did exactly that, and I kept it
still when he put his cock back in my mouth and began to
push it in. Deep, deeper, to the back of my throat – and
he held it there for a bit, just long enough for my
throat to tighten and for me to start to gag a little,
before he ever so slowly pulled back.
"Finger your clit," he ordered, and I did – now that was
an order I could get behind! – as he got into his
rhythm, fucking my mouth long and slow. I pressed my
little button against that big knot and instantly felt
the sparks in my belly that told me that I would soon be
coming in waves.
How can I even express what that moment meant to me? It
was the first time I had ever taken more than one cock
at the same moment, and although I have since taken more
(my current record is nine at once – I'll tell you the
story sometime) that was the first time I really, truly
realized that my whole body was a cock-stimulating
machine, my whole body was meant and built to give
pleasure to males and make them give me their sweet,
amazing, wonderful cum.
And yes I was caught between two cocks, completely stuck
just like a pig on a spit, because Charlie would be
knotted in me for fifteen minutes and I didn't dare move
my head an inch since David commanded me not to, so in a
sense I was completely helpless.
But in another sense, I had never felt this powerful in
my life. I felt, finally, like I had really, truly,
honestly found my purpose in life – to please cocks and
the males they were attached to. That sounds terribly
reductive, of course, and it's oversimplified to the
point of absurdity...but yeah, I mean...there it is. I'm
a woman, with a woman's body, and women's bodies were
made to be pleasing to men, and boys, and whatever males
of other species we could interest in us.
From a biological perspective, getting fucked and
bearing the resulting babies is our reason for
existence, just like the purpose of men is to fuck us
and give us those babies. But more than that, there was
a psychological impact, a spiritual impact – I could
please more than one male at once!
How many women do you see walking around with
frustrated, angry husbands or boyfriends who can't even
please the one they have? And yet there I was, on my
hands and knees like a proper slut, my dog's cock
stretching my pussy with its knot as he dumped a bucket
of cum into me and my son taking my mouth in precisely
the way he wanted because he knew I could do nothing but
move my lips and tongue and stare up at him worshipfully
and still make him blow his load down my throat.
That, my friends, struck me as power, a woman's power, a
feminine power that came from the center of my being and
felt perfectly right and natural from the first instant.
Yes, men have the power to take, but women have the
power to be taken and still remain who we are, what we
are, and to do what we're meant by our biology and our
natures to do.
See? I just rattle on, don't I? How aggravating!
My orgasm lifted me up just at the moment David started
using my mouth faster. Whether he sensed that my climax
was near and timed it right or whether it was dumb luck
I don't know, but I felt myself floating higher and
higher and then tipping over the edge like a roller-
coaster drop when BAM my boy was pummeling my mouth and
throat harder.
I screamed around his cock and came with shocking
precision, not missing a beat with either the hand that
was giving pleasure to me or the lips and tongue that
were giving it to David. I came, in other words, like a
pro, and the fact that I kept pleasing all three of us
while I did so sent a ripple of pride through me that
just made my orgasm all the more intense.
David was fucking my mouth as hard as he ever fucked my
pussy, his balls slapping my chin, his fist clenched to
tight in my hair that I couldn't have pulled back if I
had wanted to – which I didn't! Yes I was gagging on his
cock with every thrust as the tip smacked into the back
of my throat, but I couldn't have cared less.
I was watching his face when he face-fucked me – though
my vision was blurry with orgasm and tears – and the
expression of lust and barely-contained pleasure I saw
there made it all worth it and more. My son. My lover.
My guide. My caretaker. I felt like a queen.
Suddenly he could take no more and he yanked me forward
even as he pushed in deeper, entering my throat with his
shaft and keeping it there as it jerked and spasmed,
again and again. He gave a long, low, throaty, wondrous
groan as he emptied his balls into my stomach.
And then he was done, and barely able to keep his feet
as he held onto Charlie to keep him from pulling out too
suddenly and hurting me. Charlie was done coming (the
difference in the body temperature between human and dog
means you can feel every little squirt inside you, and
you know when your lover's orgasm has stopped) but it
was a couple of minutes before he gave the first
tentative tug at my pussy.
I was still stuck to him too tightly though, so he just
panted happily as I squeezed on his cock with my pussy
and sucked David. My son never got soft, not really – he
was as turned on by the idea of him getting Charlie's
sloppy seconds as I was, and it showed. By the time
Charlie did soften enough to pull out with that wet
sloosh I love so much and the shower of dog semen down
my thighs that tells me I've been a good bitch, David
was hard as steel and I had the damned rubber that I
disliked so much firmly in place.
Charlie went to lick up all his cum, but he only got in
a couple of swipes with his tongue before David nudged
him aside, grabbed me by the hips just as firmly as he'd
grabbed my hair earlier, and pushed himself all the way
into me.
I arched my back and let out a long, delighted sigh.
"Oohhh yesss baby, fuck me, fuck your mother good..."
He smacked my ass and laughed, "I always fuck you
good...and I always will."
I liked the sound of that, and we settled into the
rhythm that I loved from the first – him and I moving
together like it's all instinctual, taking each other's
rhythm, faster, harder, sharing sweat, sharing our
bodies, him raining filthy, degrading talk on me and me
eating it up, my orgasm arriving with a torrent of
(loud) filth of my own, lifting me, taking me apart and
putting me back together again in time for another
orgasm to come in time with my son's.
He used my hair like a bridle, yanking my head back so
my profanity and screams of pleasure echoed off the
walls and came back to me, unhindered and unashamed.
Perfection. Heaven on earth. And when it was done, we
lay together on the floor, me on my belly and him atop
and inside me, arm around me, both of us reveling in the
fact of being the lovers we were destined to be from the
moment I gave birth to him. Charlie was in the corner,
licking his cock and paying us no mind whatsoever.
After a few moments of David kissing my neck and
shoulders, he lifted himself up and off me. I moaned in
disappointment, but David just laughed. "Sorry mom, I
gotta piss, and I doubt you want me doing that in the
living room."
"Probably not," I sighed, then grinned. "Between you and
Charlie, I doubt I could move right now if a tornado was
bearing down on us."
"Then don't. Just lay here and rest. OK?"
"OK. And David?"
"Yes, mom?"
"I love you. More than anything."
"I love you too, mom." I didn't doubt it for an instant.
Then he was gone, off to the bathroom, and I was alone.
I lay there wishing that David hadn't used a condom and
that the sloppy cum I felt oozing out of me was as much
my son's as my dog's. I wanted David's seed up inside me
– it belonged there, dammit! I was his lover and his
woman, body and soul, and I deserved to feel his semen
inside me.
Of course if it was, then right at this moment those
industrious little spermatozoa would be busily swimming
upstream and finding my very fertile egg, and there was
a not-inconsiderable chance that nine months from now
I'd be giving birth to my son's child... and there was
absolutely NO way to explain that one to Tim, was there?
So that was completely out of the question, and I'd just
have to suck up my frustration and deal with it for the
next month until I got onto the pill and I could take my
man's cum the way I was built to.
Charlie was done licking his cock and was watching me,
head on his paws, his big and soulful eyes intent on me.
After a few seconds he came over and laid down next to
me, and I put my arm around him and cuddled him close.
His cum, at least, was up inside me where it belonged,
and it was a wonderful, sensual thing to lie there with
him next to me, feeling his soft fur under my hand,
feeling his warmth so close to me, feeling the rise and
fall of his ribs with every breath he took. I put my
head on him like a pillow and closed my eyes, and
together we drifted off to sleep, two lovers enjoying
each other's afterglow.
I woke up later, and I knew instantly that some time had
passed. David had let Charlie and me sleep together for
a while, and I was grateful for that. This whole
situation was so fragile! Tomorrow Tim and Laurel would
be home and I wouldn't be able to simply take a nap with
my canine lover in the middle of the living room floor
after he'd fucked me silly. It's one thing to have sex
with someone – or something – you love, and that's a
wonderful and amazing thing, but it's something else,
something wonderful and amazing in its own right, to
pass into sleep with and wake up with that lover.
There's something profound about it, something that the
soul seems to crave just as much as the body craves the
sex that precedes it, and the sex seems less absolute
without it. I don't know, maybe that's just me, and if
it is then it's all the more remarkable David gave me
the chance to experience it with Charlie before the
chance slipped away.
At any rate, I woke up to hear David singing softly in
another room, and a smile spread itself across my face.
David wasn't a good singer by any means, but there's
something I love about waking up to hear a lover moving
around in another room and lying there, slightly muzzy-
headed, to listen to it.
I did for a few moments before the fact that I needed to
piss became impossible to ignore, and then I sat up.
Charlie grunted softly and lifted his head, thumping
that big clumsy tail of his, and looked at me
expectantly. I put a note of excitement into my voice as
I said, "Wanna go outside?" and the words had the
expected effect, making him leap to his feet and bounce
around like a puppy. What a sweety Charlie is.
The rest of the day is a perfectly happy blur. I took a
long hot shower and David joined me for part of it – he
had just gotten back from cutting old Mrs. Gunderson's
grass to keep our cover up. We fooled around a bit under
the spray, kissing and touching and being generally
playful, and then dried each other off. Neither of us
put on a stitch of clothes when we moved to the kitchen,
and it's a good thing too – our attempts at making
dinner were interrupted by my horny hands all over my
son, and before long I was on my knees sucking the cock
I adored so much. He came down my throat, then I got him
stiff again and he gave me a long, hard, lovely screwing
up on the counter and then on the kitchen table.
Laurel called during dinner so we didn't talk long –
especially given that my mischievous son guided Charlie
between my legs and had him lick me while I was talking
to his sister. That was, if anything, even more awkward
than talking to Tim while David fucked me the day
before. I mean yes David is the son that Tim and I made
together, but at least he's a human, and human women are
expected to fuck human men.
Society isn't so understanding about gals getting head
from their family dogs (though the world would be a
happy and more sexually fulfilled place if society were
a little more open about it, in my entirely biased
opinion). So I managed to keep my moans to myself while
I heard about her performance at State that day. I was
actually very proud of her because she did extremely
well – she took Bronze in the 400 meter and was on her
way to a Silver in the 800, but she tripped and wrenched
her ankle ten meters from the tape – it was a little
swollen, she said, but not bad, and she was keeping ice
on it.
I didn't think she sounded different than she had before
she left – as though I could have heard the loss of her
virginity in her voice, and besides I was a little
distracted by the fact that Charlie's tongue seemed like
it was two inches up my asshole when I thought to
listen. If you've ever had a dog lick your ass, you know
it's distracting; if you never have, well, A) take my
word for it, and B) have a dog lick your ass, you won't
regret it.
Anyway, she sounded good, and she sounded proud of her
performance – and she sounded happy. I was glad that Tim
had given her that...well, I guess glad is too strong a
word. I was glad that if Tim was going to be fucking our
daughter, she was happy about it.
I didn't have a lot of room to maneuver on the topic
anyway.
Laurel told me she would make sure she was home by early
afternoon tomorrow, and she said goodbye. It's
appalling, really, that I spared so little thought for
her in that moment, given that this was the first time
I'd talked to her after her father had taken her
virginity. It's just that she seemed so far away then,
and not just physically.
I just wasn't the same woman I had been when she'd left
with Tim. David had made me into a brand new person, and
though I still loved her and still loved Tim, I couldn't
go back to the way I was before... I wouldn't.
Everything was still so new for me that I needed time to
figure out where Tim and Laurel would land in my world.
But that was for the future, and as soon as I hung up I
had nothing more in my mind than the orgasm my dog's
tongue gave me.
David and I spent the evening cuddled up on the sofa. We
listened to music, we watched a couple of bad movies on
TV, I sucked his cock and he gave me a long, slow fuck
as a reward. We drank wine and ate cheese and crackers
and fruit.
We laughed and held hands and listened to each other's
heartbeats and smelled each other's scents. We kissed a
lot. We – I – reveled in being madly in love with the
perfect mate. At the end we took another shower and went
to sleep in each other's arms, lying between crisp,
fresh sheets that still smelled like the clothesline.
June 2
The gray light of morning was just barely beginning to
seep into the bedroom and the clock read just past 5:00
AM Sunday morning when David awakened me by settling his
weight on top of me. I wasn't even really awake yet when
I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him into
me. God, how to describe being fucked out of sleep? It's
the most perfect wake up you can imagine, and one I'd
never, ever experienced before.
One moment I was asleep – dreaming of getting head from
Petra, actually – and the next instant that dream was
replaced by the blissful sensation of sex with the man I
adored more than I ever thought I could adore anyone. It
was the best gift he could have given me. He must have
been playing with my pussy before I woke up (which would
explain the dream) because I was perfectly wet for him
as he buried himself in me all the way and we began to
move together as one.
You know, I'd always wanted to be woken up in that way.
Ever since I was a little girl and found out about the
possibility of sex, it struck me as being incredibly
erotic, and incredibly romantic, to have a lover who
wanted you so intensely he couldn't even wait until you
were awake to pin your ankles to your earlobes.
To inspire that sort of lust, that sort of overriding
desire in a man, always seemed to me to be a wonderful
thing indeed... and let me tell you, the reality was
just as good as the fantasy was – no, better, because
even in my fantasies I never had a lover as perfect for
me as David.
"Oh baby," I muttered into his chest (the better to
stifle morning breath, doncha know) "you make your old
mom feel so good..."
"You're not old, mom," he whispered back into my hair
(again, the morning breath thing – I did try to instill
politeness in my children when they were growing up!).
"You make me feel young, baby. You make me feel so young
when you fuck me this way."
"And I'm going to keep fucking you mom," he whispered
breathily into my ear. "After dad and Laurel get back...
I'm going to fuck you every opportunity I get. So you'd
better learn to take my cock quietly, because you're
going to be getting it when they're in the house with
us..."
"Oh God baby..."
"Sometimes when they're right in the next room..."
"Oh! Fuck!" I had the sudden mental image of me with a
denim skirt bunched around my waist and David pressing
my face into the dining room wall as he took me urgently
from behind, all while Tim and Laurel were right in the
living room not 20 feet away. The thought alone was so
erotic I was instantly on the edge of a climax. "Baby
yes, fuck me! Fuck me good and hard, lover! Please!"
"Are you going to come quietly?" he asked, his voice
teasing.
"FUCK NO!" I snarled, sounding like a she-panther.
"They're not here! I'm going to come as loud as I
fucking want to! Please David, harder!"
He gave it to me harder, and I shook the windows with my
howls. Lord, the neighbors... But I loved being loud for
him, loud because of him. I loved screaming his name as
he pounded me. I loved the pressure of his body on mine
feeling like it was squeezing all the air out of me and
making my shrieks all the louder.
And most of all I loved the freedom of it, the freedom
of being able to be with my lover the way we both wanted
and not having to worry about what my husband or my
daughter thought, not having to be circumspect, not
having to be careful, just being able to relax and
finally be the woman I really, truly was with the man I
really, truly wanted.
I came like a rocket and kept coming in waves until he
moaned his own release into me – well, into the damned
rubber, and once again the wistful desire to have his
cum in me instead of in the rubber. If only I wasn't
fertile as hell, I'd have taken the risk! But no, not
with him being a potent young man and my womb ready and
eager for a fertilized egg to land in it. I couldn't
chance it.
And so the condom held his semen as he rested atop me,
my legs fallen loose from the grip they'd had around his
waist and my hands on his sweaty back. I don't recall
either of us saying anything, not even after he rolled
off of me and we cuddled together and slept some more.
It was almost eight when I finally woke up for good.
David was still asleep, but he woke up enough to mutter,
"Great ass..." as I climbed out of bed to make
breakfast. I put Charlie outside and made a sinful
spread of bacon and eggs, coffee and toast and orange
juice. Charlie and I made it back up to David's and my
bedroom (because, practically, that's what it would be
for me from now on; Tim would just be an unwelcome,
futile guest in the bed) just as my son woke up.
"Mmmm, breakfast in bed again," he grinned, sitting up
and stretching. "I could get used to me waiting on me
hand and foot."
"I would, too, if we lived alone," I laughed. "I'd spoil
you rotten. And as long as you kept my kitty happy, I'd
never utter a word of complaint."
"I'm gonna keep your kitty happy even when we're not
alone," was his reply. "Do I get waited on hand and foot
anyway?"
"Mmmm, sorry kiddo, no can do. It would raise suspicions
if I brought you breakfast every morning and sucked your
cock every night at the dinner table."
"Pfft. What a gyp."
"Well, that just means I'll have to extra-special spoil
you when I get the chance," I chuckled.
"I'll hold you to that."
"You'd better. I want you to."
Breakfast was just simple, plain fun, with Charlie
getting the leftovers. A shower followed, and we fucked
standing up under the spray with my legs around his
waist and him holding me up with his hands under my ass.
We didn't dress – neither of us wanted to stop being
naked for and with each other until the last possible
moment, so we lounged around the house naked as the days
we were born.
David was eager to watch me suck Charlie's cock and I
was eager to show him, so I donned my dog-fucking outfit
once more and gave him the best demonstration I could –
which honestly wasn't very satisfying for either me or
the dog, since Charlie was full of energy and wouldn't
sit still for a blowjob. Like I've said, dogs lack in
the brains department.
I did remind David about his promise to let Charlie lick
his cock, which was something I really wanted to see,
and he gave in readily enough. Charlie needed little
coaching – I guess dogs just naturally like to lick
genitals no matter what the gender – and David seemed to
love it. For the first three licks, that is, and on the
fourth he suddenly gasped, pulled away, and doubled over
with his hands on his cock, laughing a pained laugh as
he did. "Fuck! He got me with his teeth!"
Queerly, the first thing I felt was motherly concern for
her son's wellbeing. I guess a son can fuck his mom, but
he can't fuck the mom out of her no matter how much fun
they both have trying. "Are you OK? Let me see."
"I'm fine, I'm fine, it was just a nip," he laughed, but
I wasn't going to be put off that easily and I didn't
stop until I'd checked it for myself and saw just a
slight red spot. Still, his voice was sultry when he
asked, "Kiss it and make it better?"
Well. What mother could resist that?
One blowjob later I was tidying up and getting things
back in order for the return of Tim and Laurel.
Honestly, I'd let the place go to seed over the past
couple days and it was pretty messy. I washed dishes,
washed clothes, and ran a mop over the floors to pick up
any stray droplets of semen, human or canine, that might
have fallen and dried. And by the time I was done, I
realized I'd have to do at least part of it over again
because David came to me and said, "Charlie is horny.
You didn't get him off with your mouth so you need to
give him your pussy before dad and Laurel get home."
I ought to have argued – if they left earlier than
expected and made good time they could have been getting
home any time – but the tone of David's voice made it
clear he wasn't brooking argument... and honestly, once
I heard that tone, it didn't occur to me to do anything
but obey him. And so back on went the dog-fucking outfit
and back on the splatter-sheet I went on my hands and
knees.
Charlie took me smoothly this time with only minimal
guidance from David, and so it was that I got my last
orgasms of that astonishing, perfect weekend, with a dog
cock buried in my twat and my son's cock in my mouth,
just like the day before. I couldn't think of a better
way for the weekend to finish that didn't involve me
risking getting knocked up with my son's baby.
Into the shower then, and into a conservative denim
shorts and tee shirt when I got out. I sighed a little
when I picked them out, knowing that my weekend of
freedom was coming to an end... but I did choose a
scandalous pair of crotchless panties and a very naughty
push-up bra that left my nipples bare to tent out my
shirt and displayed the girls to advantage. After this
weekend, I knew I was going to have a hard time even
pretending to be anything but a fuckslut.
David stayed with me, naked, and we cuddled on the couch
and whispered scandalous nothings until we heard the car
pull up at about two. David went upstairs then, and I
sat for a few moments and collected my thoughts.
Honestly, I was surprised at the thoughts I collected. I
was rueful that the blissful two days was done, yes, but
I knew I hadn't had the last of either David or Charlie.
I'd be fucking and sucking both of them at every
opportunity, just like the good little cunt I was. Then
too, David had told me he wanted me to be with other men
– and women – and whatever David wanted from me, David
would get. That was just how it was going to be. My
adventure, whatever it would prove to be, was just
beginning. All that the return of husband and daughter
marked was the end of the prologue. But none of that
surprised me.
No, what surprised me was how much I had missed them
both when they were gone.
Yes there had been an incredible freedom with just David
and me (and let's not forget Charlie!) in the house, and
yes that made possible an unforgettable weekend that
literally made me into very different person than I was
before Tim and Laurel left. And yes, the two of them had
undoubtedly gone off and fucked their brains out, just
like David and I had (again, with the [presumed] absence
of a big, eager dog), and that wasn't any more right –
from a moral, legal, or ethical perspective – than what
I had done with my son.
It would be hard to have them back, knowing that without
them I could feel much more open to exploring my new
self and letting David and Charlie take me to where I
needed to be. It would be hard, too, to see them both
sneaking around to get their sex in and having to
pretend I didn't know what they were doing. Having them
here would hardly be without difficulties.
But all of that was outweighed – and, I realized,
outweighed by orders of magnitude – by the fact that
both Tim and Laurel were integral parts of my life, and
I could no more imagine being without either of them
than I could have imagined what I would turn into when
this whole dizzy adventure began.
Laurel was my daughter, my flesh and blood just as much
as David was. She was my little girl, my baby child, and
I adored her even as I resented that she, apparently,
could be something for Tim that I couldn't. That wasn't
fair, but it was what it was, and I couldn't be angry or
upset about it. She was an amazing girl. I'd jump in
front of an axe-wielding maniac for her without a second
thought (and if I did, I wouldn't put money on the
maniac if I were you).
I loved David in a unique and special way that Laurel
couldn't approach, but I also loved Laurel for all the
incredible things she was and the incredible things she
would do. And no, my adoration and excitement with my
son had hardly blinded me to the fact that Laurel was
far, far more likely to make me proud, and to be a good
person, than was David in the months and years to come.
David was what he was.
He was my man, but he was what he was and I was too old
a bunny to have any illusions. But Laurel's future was
limited only by the extent of her imagination, and I'd
fight as hard as any mother could to make sure she
fulfilled her potential, and I'd love her every step of
the way.
And Tim...oh, Tim. There are so many ways you were never
the right man for me. But I love you so damned much in
spite of it. It took this weekend, and this moment of
clarity at the end of it, to make me realize that, for
all your physical and moral failings, you're still a
good and decent man. You're no more to blame for all
this than I am...which is, I suppose, another way to say
we'll both burn in Hell for what we've done to our
children, but we'll go there knowing that we were both
victims of each other as much as our own natures.
Because that was what it really came down to, wasn't it?
I hadn't suddenly become a sex-hungry slut for dogs and
for the man who had the insight and strength to make me
one – I had ALWAYS BEEN ONE and I had just spent my
whole life pretending I wasn't. It's as much a part of
who I am as my fingerprints. And yes, had David not been
interested in me, my life would certainly have taken a
very different direction.
Bbut so what? There are a million things that happen to
us that shape our lives every day. Some of those things
we control, some don't. But those things happen to us,
they don't define who we are. We are who and what we are
independently of them. Yes we change when those events
happen, but how we change and what we change into comes
from us.
Sheesh. Apparently sex isn't the only topic I ramble
about.
Anyway, the point is that David didn't make me this way,
and Tim's marriage to me didn't make him what he is.
Whatever Tim is, he's that because that's what he is. I
fell in love with that man a long time ago, and even
though I no longer have the slightest physical
connection with him, he's still the same good and fine
man who works hard, who respects me, who makes me laugh
and who would jump in front of a maniac to save David
just like I would for Laurel.
We made a life together, and even if the sexual aspects
of it were a lie, it wasn't all about sex. No marriage
ever is. Our marriage worked in spite of our never
having sex, and it did because the good things about him
and the good things about me worked together to make it
successful. Was I going to throw it aside now because I
had found a way to scratch the one itch of mine he
wasn't interested in scratching? That was crazy. He was
still a good man. I still loved him. Our relationship
would just change to account for the new facts, that was
all.
All that was what was in my mind as I got up from the
sofa and headed to the kitchen, where Tim and Laurel
would enter from the garage. I didn't even have to
struggle to put a smile on my face – not after my
weekend! And yes I was very, very curious to see what
changes the weekend had wrought on my daughter...
But all thoughts of that were knocked from my mind when
the Tim opened the door and Laurel came through with her
foot in a blue plastic boot and crutches under her arms.
She had a big smile on her face, but also a sheepish
look too – she knew what was coming, and I didn't
disappoint her.
"Oh my God! Laurel, what happened?"
"Well, I said I twisted my ankle a bit at the meet..."
Oh don't give me that, baby girl. Don't minimize an
injury that puts you on crutches, not to a mother who's
just freaked out about it like I had. I had a chair
pulled out from the table in an instant and, as she
eased into it, I said (loudly), "But you said it was
just a little hitch! You didn't tell me it was this
bad!"
"It is just a little twist," she insisted, though I
could hear in her voice that she knew she had lost this
argument before it began. "The doctor just didn't want
me to put any weight on it for a couple of days, that's
all. It will be fine."
"But why didn't you tell me?"
"She didn't want you to worry..." Tim began, but he
wisely shut up when I shot him the Mother's Glare of
Death.
"You were all the way on the other end of the state,"
Laurel said, properly guilty and abashed. "There wasn't
anything you could have done and I knew you'd have
worried if I told you I had actually sprained it. I
didn't want to ruin your weekend."
"I-I... wish you'd have told me," I said, forcing myself
to be calm and measured. "But thank you for thinking
about me. It was very mature of you to take my feelings
into consideration, even if I want to make your father
sleep on the sofa for the next week for not telling me
himself."
"Hey!" Tim protested, while Laurel bit her lip to keep
from laughing.
"Don't 'hey' me, mister," I sniffed. "A mother needs to
know."
"You aren't serious about that sofa thing, right?"
"Hmmph. We'll see. It depends on whether you behave
yourself for the rest of the night."
"Oooh," Laurel laughed, and followed it up with a whip-
cracking sound. I shot her a dirty look, but my flash of
anger at not knowing had passed, and I knew my eyes were
smiling.
I spent the evening making a fuss over Laurel and being
very proud of her Bronze medal. David came downstairs
just before dinner and headed off to a friend's house,
saying he'd be back by curfew; I felt a bit of a twinge
at the prospect of not having him at the dinner table,
but he assuaged it by feeling me up good and proper when
Tim and Laurel were in the other room, all the while
whispering in my ear about how he expected me to suck
him tomorrow before school. My mouth actually watered.
June 3
He got that blowjob the next morning, with me eagerly on
my knees and him pulling out at the last second and
splashing his cum all over my face. I cleaned him off
with my tongue and tucked him back into his pants, all
with one eye closed because his cum had glued the lid
shut. "Such a messy boy," I admonished, zipping him up.
"And such a way to treat your mom, making my face all
sticky like this!"
"Hey, you look gorgeous with my cum on your face," he
said, pride in his voice as he stroked my jaw with his
fingertips. "I love being able to look down at you
wearing it and know that you sucked it out of me."
I echoed his pride with my smile. "Have a good day,
sweety. Good luck on your math test."
"I'll be fine," he shrugged unconcernedly, then turned
and took one step away...before turning back and saying,
casually, "Oh, I have a date with Brandy tomorrow
night."
My heart sank a bit at the image of the salesgirl taking
care of the needs that I wanted to be responsible for,
but I kept myself calm. I knew this was going to happen
sooner or later, after all, and our situation meant that
I couldn't do it as often as he needed. He was a healthy
young man with extremely high drives, after all. We both
needed to be realistic. "All right," I nodded, wiping
his cum off my face and licking my fingers (I wasn't
going to wash it off when I could swallow it instead!).
"Have fun."
"I will," he nodded. "And so will you."
"I...huh?" Brilliant response on my part, but I was
stumped by what he could have meant.
"The three of us are going on a date," he told me with a
grin. "And you'd better be ready to suck her pussy."
My heart jumped this time, and I nodded eagerly as a
whole array of filthy possibilities raced through my
mind. "I will!" I said quickly. "Oh David, that sounds
fantastic! The three of us, out in public?"
"Yeah, in public until I decide to take you both back to
her place and watch you get down on your knees and beg
her permission to suck her cunt."
I was so wet I was dripping. "Oh God baby..."
"I thought you'd like it," he said dryly. "Oh, and you
need to wear a short skirt and no panties tonight. I'm
going to fuck your brains out after dinner."
I counted the seconds.
To be continued...
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 62