Playing Ball With Mom
Copyright© 2014 by Mister Arioch
Erotic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Cherie's world fell apart after her husband Scott left her for another woman. Fortunately for Cherie, though, her three loving, handsome teenage sons are there to help her pick up the pieces of her broken heart ... and quite eager and willing to all take their father's place in her bed!
Caution: This Erotic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Teenagers Blackmail Coercion Consensual Reluctant Romantic Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction Revenge Incest Mother Son Sister Aunt Nephew Humiliation Light Bond Rough Spanking Gang Bang Group Sex Orgy Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie Double Penetration Exhibitionism First Fisting Food Lactation Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Pregnancy Sex Toys Spitting Squirting Tit-Fucking Voyeurism Water Sports Public Sex Slow
Cherie sat numbly on the lounge chair next to the heated outdoor pool, a half-empty – and half-drunken – bottle of wine sitting on the small table next to her. A thick sheaf of papers, neatly held together with a large black clip, lay next to the bottle. A pile of trashy tabloid magazines lay scattered beneath the papers. Cherie glanced at the table briefly, her eyes still a bit puffy and bloodshot from crying ... and, with a sigh, she reached again for the bottle, pouring herself another generously big glass of Merlot.
It's bad enough that Scott's leaving me, Cherie thought bitterly, as she raised her glass to her lips, he didn't have to humiliate me on his way out the door, too. She sipped at her wine, feeling her cheeks burn crimson with embarrassment once more. I was so stupid ... all those years we were together, I never knew how little you thought of me, Scott...
The sip turned into a gulp, and the glass was quickly drained.
Scott, of course, was Scott Lannington, the famous - and, some would argue, notorious - pitcher for the Capital City Mustangs. Cherie had known Scott for a long, long time, long before he'd won three Cy Young awards and two World Series, long before he'd even been called up to the major leagues. She'd been just twenty years old when they met, a cheerleader at Southern State University, back when Scott was just a promising young pitcher for the Southern State Rebels. They'd met at a frat party, and immediately fallen head over heels in love with one another... or, maybe not, Cherie thought sadly. I know I loved him ... I'm not sure now if he ever really loved me.
Regardless, Scott and Cherie had gotten married right after they'd graduated from college ... and for quite a while, things were very, very good. Scott quickly became a professional baseball star for the Mustangs, and just over two years after their wedding, Scott won his first Cy Young, gotten his first multi-million dollar contract with the Mustangs ... and Cheri gave birth to their first son, Alex. A few years after that came the first World Series win – and MVP award, too – followed by even bigger contracts and even more money ... and two more sons, Ryan and Parker. Houses, trips, cars – Scott and Cherie had everything anyone could ever want. They were living a wonderful dream come true, a perfect marriage with perfect kids...
... or so Cherie had thought, anyway.
When Scott had finally retired from the major leagues just a couple of months ago, though ... everything changed. Or, to be more precise, that was when Cherie finally noticed that everything wasn't the way she thought it was. She and Scott had kind of drifted apart during his final baseball season, which hadn't struck her as odd at the time – she'd chalked it up to Scott being preoccupied with his last go-around in professional baseball, nothing more. And the fact that they hadn't even slept together during that entire last season ... again, at the time, she just assumed it had everything to do with baseball, and nothing at all to do with her.
But once that last season ended ... well, Scott had still kept his distance from her. Cherie thought it was it was understandable, at least at first. Maybe he's just depressed, she'd thought uneasily to herself, on more than one occasion ... usually when he'd abruptly left the house in the middle of the night, claiming that he 'needed space', or 'just some alone time to clear his head'. For some reason – some inexplicably naïve, stupid reason, she thought bitterly, as she sipped some more wine – she'd believed him. And she'd even tried to be as sympathetic and understanding as she could when she asked him if he was unhappy, or if anything was wrong, or if there was anything she could do for him.
"Nothing," Scott had always snapped irritably at her, every single time she asked those questions. "Everything's fine." And then he'd mumble something about needing space, and either go grab another beer and sit out on the deck by himself, or hop in his Corvette and head off to ... well, Cherie didn't know where at the time, but in hindsight she supposed she had a few guesses where.
Cherie hadn't even been that offended – or tried not to be, anyway – when she'd made reservations at a secluded island resort for just the two of them, in a futile, desperate attempt to rekindle the romance in their marriage ... and Scott had abruptly cancelled it. Nor had she been offended too much when she'd bought well over a thousand dollars on fancy and trashy lingerie, as well as a whole bunch of kinky sex toys, hoping to light his fire in the bedroom with her again. Scott hadn't been terribly interested in any of it, which she'd taken at the time as a sign that he simply wasn't into her kinkier fantasies...
... except after finally seeing some of the headlines in the tabloids that morning, Cherie understood that wasn't the case at all.
Her husband Scott was just simply no longer into having her as his wife.
In his bed ... or in his life.
Scott was done with her.
Am I really that unattractive now? Cherie thought miserably. Is that what turning thirty-nine means? A dull, thick throbbing sensation hammered away inside her head as she looked down at herself, and the black bikini that she wore. As a cheerleader all those years ago at Southern State, she'd been quite the stunning brunette beauty. Whenever the cameras covering a Southern State football game had focused on the cheerleading squad, they always seemed to find Cherie and her big, beaming smile ... and especially her big, beautiful bouncing tits. She'd gotten tons of offers for modeling gigs and commercials after marrying Scott as well – she'd even accepted a few of them, early on, before she had the boys and decided to just focus on being a mom for a while.
Later on, after the boys had all been old enough to go to school, Cherie had even managed to put her degree in meteorology from Southern State to good use, eventually becoming the head meteorologist – or, "the hot weather girl", as Scott had always somewhat dismissively called her – for KGSM, one of the local television stations in Capital City. And even just five short years ago, she'd been asked to pose for the annual swimsuit issue for Sports Fan Weekly, in the 'Hottest Wives of the Hottest Athletes' pictorial.
Life had been really, really good for Cherie...
... or least, so she had once thought.
Cherie's eyes wandered down across her bikini-clad body, critically examining every inch of her own flesh, suddenly picking apart every tiny flaw and blemish with contemptuous self-loathing. The tiny black string bikini she'd worn for the Sports Fan Weekly shoot was the same one she was currently wearing at the side of the pool that evening, drinking wine and. Her curves in the five years since that shoot were, well, a little curvier. Her ass and her thighs were a touch thicker than she cared to admit ... and the ripped, sexy abs she'd had for the photo shoot were just a memory. She hadn't been going to the gym and her Yoga classes the way that she used to ... and she knew that she needed to lose fifteen pounds, easy, if not more, if she ever wanted to look exactly like the woman she'd been in those photos again.
"But I still look pretty damn good," Cherie whispered sadly to herself. "Just not good enough ... or young enough ... for my cheating, lying husband..."
Besides, he likes the young, beautiful girls, Cherie thought morosely. He always has... She thought of all the times she'd talked with the wives of other players on the Capital City Mustangs, hearing all the rumors about how her husband was busy catting around while he was on the road in other cities, supposedly having affairs with strippers and cocktail waitress and a whole slew of airheaded bimbos. She'd always hotly defended Scott against such tawdry allegations, sometimes getting into screaming matches with anyone who dared say that her husband might be stepping out on her, because he loved her, that he'd never even so much as look at another woman...
Reluctantly, Cherie picked up one of the tabloid magazines off the table. Her husband Scott was on its cover, his arm wrapped affectionately around the slender waist of a buxom, blonde model, one that Cherie had seen frequently in the pages of some of her lingerie catalogs ... and one that was probably half of Cherie's age.
LANNINGTON HITS A HOME RUN!!! blared the copy beneath the picture ... and the article inside featured quotes from her husband about how "desperately unhappy" he'd been in his "loveless marriage" with his "gold-digging wife", and how happy he was to "finally find true love" with "the most amazing, beautiful woman in the world" who "finally understood him".
None of which Cherie had known prior to picking up the magazine ... and certainly nothing that her husband Scott had even mentioned to her once, let alone discussed with her.
Not even when she'd directly asked him if he was unhappy.
Cherie's lip curled in disdain as she threw the trashy piece of shit magazine into the pool, letting it sink into the rippling waters. Numbly, she watched it settle at the bottom, barely noticing the hot tears that had started to stream down her pretty face. She picked up another magazine, and threw that as well in the pool as well, and then another, and then another ... until she finally realized that nothing was left on the table except her divorce papers and a rapidly-disappearing bottle of wine.
"Good riddance," Cherie muttered, as she shrugged and filled her wine glass again. She'd found the magazines first that morning, sitting neatly at the end of the driveway along with the morning newspaper. Cherie was reasonably sure that one of Scott's assistants had arranged for that lovely little start to the day – probably that blonde bimbo Natalie, who works for him, Cherie thought angrily. Wonder how long he's been fucking her?
Seeing the tabloids had been like a punch in Cherie's stomach, and before she'd even had time to fully process what she was reading, she'd suddenly started getting phone calls and texts in a mind-numbing avalanche. The messages were from just a few friends at first, casually asking her if she was okay, even though they never hinted about what might actually be wrong. Then, one of the local Capital City newspapers had left a message, simply asking her if she had any sort of statement to make ... again, never specifying a statement as to what she should be making a statement about, but leaving it open-ended.
And then even more calls, and texts, and more, and more, and more, in an unrelenting wave. By the time she finally abandoned her phone in her purse to buzz uncontrollably, like some runaway vibrator that wouldn't stop. That was around noon.
And around one o'clock, a process server had arrived at her doorstep, with the divorce papers in hand.
And around one fifteen, Cherie had cracked open her first bottle of wine. The first of quite a few bottles, actually.
And after that, Cherie ... well, she sort of lost track of time.
She had wine to drink, after all. And a lot of things to not think about, and to ignore.
Cherie knew what was next. She'd seen a few of the other wives of the Mustangs players deal with scandals before. It was always ugly, always painful ... and Cherie thought that none of the scandals she'd seen before was going to be even close to the shitstorm that was about to head her way. Nonstop questions, followed by nonstop accusations and prying into her personal life. None of it was good, and none of it was anything she felt anywhere close to being able to handle, at least not without turning into a crying, blubbering emotional train wreck.
So, Cherie had decided to take the next couple of days off from work, take a break from the station, and just kind of hide in the house for a while ... and put off thinking about her divorce as long as possible, or at least talking about it with anyone. She didn't feel like dealing with questions or encouraging words of support from her co-workers, kind or well-intentioned as they might be ... or hear some of the catty gossiping that was bound to go on behind her back, either. And Cherie definitely didn't feel like dealing with any questions from the tabloid reporters that were bound to roll by the KGSM station studios, and stalk her in the parking lot. A little impromptu vacation seemed like it might be a good idea, to drop out of sight and not have to deal with all the additional embarrassment and humiliation she thought was heading her way. She'd have to deal with it all eventually, to be sure...
... but just not right now.
Not if Cherie could help it.
Besides, Cherie didn't even think that her boys would be around all that much the following week anyway. She knew her oldest son Alex would be home later that night and the rest of the weekend, but then he'd be going away for the rest of the week to a spring regional baseball tournament. Her middle son Parker was away at a school debate team competition, and wouldn't be home until the very last night of the weekend, just in time to go back to school – something Parker had already complained about many, many times to his mother. And Ryan – sweet, shy, awkward Ryan, her darling youngest son – was over at a friend's house for the next two days, indulging in nonstop comic books, action movies, and video games. So Ryan would be coming home the last day of the weekend, right around the time that Alex would be heading off to his tournament...
... so it'll be nice to have a few calm, relaxing days at home, Cherie mused. Get a little quality time to myself, and spend some time with the boys as well ... let them know what's happening. And besides that, nothing else. I'm not even going to look at divorce papers, or talk to my lawyer ... not yet. I just want a week of no drama, no worries, no stress ... everything low-key and perfectly ordinary, perfectly quiet and boring.
With an unsteady hand, Cherie poured herself another glass of wine, spilling some of it carelessly onto the tiled deck surrounding the pool. She really didn't give a shit about the mess. For that matter, she decided that she really didn't give a shit about much of anything anymore. She'd devoted close to eighteen years of her life to a lying, cheating piece of shit ... eighteen years down the drain.
Nothing seemed very important anymore.
Nobody really cared about her, anyway.
Slowly, Cherie looked up, seeing someone standing next to her, a handsome young man with close-cropped blonde hair, wearing a pale yellow polo shirt and baggy black cargo shorts ... and for a moment, in her slightly drunken haze, she thought she was looking back in time at her husband Scott. Not the bitter, heavy-set Scott who'd sent her divorce papers and essentially ended her life as she'd known it ... but the young, lean, athletic charming Scott, still fresh-faced and full of optimistic excitement, the one she'd met at that frat party all those many years ago. It took her a long moment to realize that it wasn't Scott at all – but rather, her oldest son Alex.
My god, Cherie thought wonderingly, he looks so much like his father...
"Mom?" Alex repeated. A look of worry crossed his handsome face as he sat down at the foot of the lounge chair. "What's wrong? You look ... um..." He took a seat at the edge of the lounge chair by her bare feet, clasping his hands together. "What can I do for you, Mom?"
"It's nothing ... never mind," Cherie said, as a hint of bitter anger crept into her voice. She gulped down the rest of her wine and put the empty glass on the table beside the chair. Slowly, she sat up, pulling her knees in close to her ample chest. "Why ... why are you home? Shouldn't you be at practice? Your tournament's coming up, and I thought –"
"Practice ended a few hours ago," Alex gently interrupted. "And besides, Coach Smith let us out early, anyway. I went out with some of the guys to the burger shack for dinner ... it's late, Mom." He smiled at his mother, patting her knee to reassure her. "I think you might've lost track of time."
"Uh ... okay," Cherie replied. "I ... I guess so." For some reason, Cherie jumped nervously at her son's touch. She didn't quite know why. It wasn't that Alex had startled her, it was just that his fingers on her bare skin felt surprisingly good. In fact, it was...
"You sure you're okay?" Alex asked, as he continued to affectionately rub his mother's knee. "It's not like you to, um ... I guess I'm not used to seeing you drink wine like this, that's all."
"Okay, it's not nothing," Cherie replied wearily. "It's just everything ... my whole life, that's all. Don't worry about it, Alex." Absently, she glanced at the table next to her lounge chair ... and saw her slender gold wristwatch lying there, along with an extra unexpected – and empty – bottle of wine that she didn't remember drinking.
Shit, Cherie thought guiltily, how long have I been out here, anyway? Way, way longer than I thought ... it looks like it's getting close to dusk...
"Mom," Alex said earnestly, "you're talking to me, okay? You don't have to put on a brave face like you always do for Parker and Ryan." He nodded slowly as he spoke, as if to emphasize the point. "You can tell me what's really going on. I usually know when you're hurting, Mom, and right now I think you're hurting a lot. Let me help you ... let me take care of you."
Cherie gazed wistfully into her son's loving eyes, admiring his handsome face ... and admiring the handsome man he'd apparently become, without her really ever noticing before. He's gorgeous, Cherie thought suddenly, like a dream come true ... the kind of dream that...
The thought trailed off as Cherie blushed furiously. God, I've had way too much wine...
"I know you mean well," Cherie said, as her tongue finally managed to untie itself. "But honestly, I don't think it'll help if I say anything. I promise I'll tell you what's happening, and your brothers too ... but not today, okay?" She reached up, running her fingers through her long, curly tresses of chestnut hair as she closed her eyes. "I'm having a hard enough time dealing with ... well, stuff right now. And while I'm sure you can deal with it, too, I'm not sure that you really want to."
"Try me," Alex said ... and Cherie found herself slightly startled by the edge in her son's determined voice. Startled – and impressed. "Whatever's going on, I can handle it ... we can handle it, Mom. I know we can. And until you tell me what's happening, I can't help you."
"Okay," Cherie said, taking a deep breath. "Fine. Here it is. Remember how I've been telling you boys that everything's fine with your father and I these past couple of months?" Cherie put her hands on her knees, clasping them together as her legs trembled nervously. "Well, I lied. And I'm sorry for lying, but..."
Tears welled in Cherie's eyes again as she dejectedly shook her head. "Your dad wants a divorce. He ... he doesn't want me anymore. Maybe if I was a better wife, or a better mom..."
"Dad wants WHAT?" Alex said incredulously. He stared at his mother for a long, long moment, as if he was trying to figure out if she was kidding or not ... and then his eyes slid over to the pile of papers sitting on the side table. Angrily, he snatched up the papers, and skimmed rapidly through them, his eyes burning hotter and hotter with rage as he disbelievingly read page after page of the document.
"It's all there," Cherie muttered. "Divorce. Irreconcilable differences, according to him. Not that I knew we even had any before this morning. I knew we had issues, but ... apparently, your father's decided to trade me in for a newer, younger model. And I do mean model." Exasperated, she threw her hands up in the air, a resigned look of defeat on her face. "And probably a better one, too. I suppose I don't blame him."
"Don't say that, Mom," Alex said ... and Cherie was surprised by the fiery pride in her son's voice. "Don't ever say that. Ever." He slid down along the lounge chair, sitting next to her and putting his strong arms around her in a fierce hug, the towel falling off his shoulder as he squeezed her tightly against his chest. "You're the best mom in the world, and you're an amazing wife ... any man would be lucky to have you. Any smart man."
"Thank ... thank you," Cherie said quietly. The hug felt ever better than when he'd caressed her knee, which made her feel even more confused ... but she found herself feeling grateful for her oldest son's embrace. "I guess ... well, I don't know what to think anymore, that's all. Because your father sure doesn't agree with you." She nestled her head on her son's strong shoulder, pressing her face against his chest, feeling like she was going to cry her eyes out ... and she really didn't want Alex to see her cry. "Your father, he, uh –"
"Dad's a fucking piece of shit, Mom," Alex said angrily. "He always has been. He's such an asshole ... he's never been around for any of us, especially you." He shook his head in disgust. "Let him fucking leave you ... and if he does, he can leave all of us. We're better off without him – it should just be the four of us, anyway. That's what it should've been years ago."
Cherie didn't say anything. Instead, she simply nodded, her face still lightly pressed against her son's chest ... and then threw her arms around him as she moved to sit in his lap, hugging him tightly. Lifting her head, she kissed him softly on the cheek...
... and then, impulsively, Cherie slid her lips over to his, and kissed her son fully – and passionately – on the mouth. She brazenly slipped her tongue into Alex's mouth, and found herself loving that sinfully good kiss, savoring the delightful taste of her son ... and then immediately was crestfallen as he gently but firmly gripped her arms, pushing her away from him on the lounge chair and breaking that kiss.
"How ... how much have you had to drink, Mom?" Alex asked uncertainly, as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He picked up the mostly-empty bottle sitting on the table next to the lounge chair, gazing at it with concern. "Are you feeling okay? I, uh ... well..." He stood up abruptly, jamming his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts and staring uncomfortably over at the pool. "I, um, don't know if we should, uh..."
"Fine," Cherie said numbly. "Fine. Whatever. You don't want me, either. Fine. I don't give a shit anymore. Not ... a ... fucking... shit." She felt her face begin to burn red-hot with embarrassment. She didn't know what was worse – the fact that she'd just kissed her own son fully on the mouth like he was her lover, or that she didn't know why she'd done that at all, or that she'd really enjoyed the kiss, very much so ... or that now her son was rejecting her, and probably thought she was some kind of weird freak...
... just like his father.
"Mom, I didn't mean –"
"I know exactly what you meant," Cherie spat out hotly, even as she felt herself growing more ashamed of what she'd just done. She gave her son a wounded glare, and stood up, storming away from the lounge chair, heading over to the hot tub at the other end of the pool, even further away from the house.
The hot tub was meant to be a secluded area, tastefully surrounded lined by tall rows of well-trimmed hedges ... a place where a wife and a husband could get a little frisky outside, it they wanted to. Like most of Cherie's romantic plans, though, that little fantasy never seemed to actually happen, so the hot tub instead became a place where Cherie just read trashy romance novels and took quiet naps when she really, really wanted to be alone.
And after what she'd just done ... Cherie didn't just want to be alone.
She wanted to hide.
Flustered, Cherie made her way over to the small control panel at the side of the hot tub, flipping on the switches. The tub hummed to life, its still waters starting to foam and grow warm. Cherie had always liked the hum of the tub ... there was something incredibly soothing about it. Soothing and peaceful.
Stepping into the hot tub, Cherie sat at its edge, dipping her toes into its frothing waters, playfully kicking and splashing her feet. Absently, she reached behind her back, gently tugging on the knotted string of her bikini top. It fell away from her chest into the churning bubbles of the hot tub, disappearing to the bottom. Stretching her arms high above her head, Cherie let out a loud, exhausted sigh, her big, heavy breasts jiggling freely as she tried to relax ... and she winced slightly, feeling the muscles in her shoulders ache a bit more than she expected. She felt tired ... no, not tired. Exhausted.
Exhausted, drained, and empty.
"No wonder Scott left me," she muttered. "The boys'll want to leave me too now, after that cute little stunt of yours ... they'll go and live with him ... some fucking mother I am..."
Cherie numbly shook her head, feeling like a complete fool. Much as the divorce papers and the tabloid article had caught her off-guard ... deep down, Cherie realized that she'd known for a while that her marriage was in trouble. She'd just done a very, very good job of lying to herself, and pretending that everything was perfectly fine. So while being rejected by her husband Scott hurt – and having her crumbling sham of a perfect marriage exposed for the whole world to see hurt even more – deep in her heart, she wasn't totally surprised by what Scott had done. Embarrassed and humiliated, yes ... but not truly surprised.
Being rejected by her son Alex, though – her wonderful, amazingly talented, handsome, sweetheart of a son – that hurt more than anything else, which confused and surprised Cherie to no end. Still, Cherie's cheeks burned hotly with shame as she realized what she'd just stupidly done. Really? she thought bitterly. You kiss your own son – your own child! – like that, and you're surprised that he pushes you away? What else did you expect him to do ... kiss you back?
A cool spring breeze cut through the air, sending a chill up Cherie's spine. Quickly, she scooted off the edge of the tub, submerging herself so that only her head and her shoulders rested above its bubbling waters. Leaning back against the railing of the hot tub, Cherie stretched out her arms, the warm water feeling wonderful as it caressed her nearly-naked body, making all her aches and pains slide away into oblivion ... and making her head feel deliciously fuzzy. She felt a little disoriented and dizzy as well, but Cherie didn't mind. She knew she was drunk. She thought that was a very good thing, considering the day that she was having.
Best remedy for the worst day of my life, Cherie thought, as a nervous laugh escaped her lips. She suddenly thought that maybe more wine might make the day even better. Slowly, she stood up in the middle of the hot tub, intending to head back inside the house and down to the wine cellar ... but a funny thing happened. The world started swaying around Cherie, and she decided that maybe walking back to the house might be a bad idea.
"Fuck it," Cherie said loudly, as she looked back towards the house, the bubbling waters of the tub lapping softly against her bare, lean thighs. The sky was streaked with pastel hues of pink and orange, the sun hanging heavily in the afternoon sky as it crept towards a gorgeous sunset.
Maybe I can't have more wine, Cherie thought drunkenly, but I know how I can have some more fun right now...
Without even realizing it, one of her hands wandered underneath her bikini bottom, her middle finger travelling through the thick, chestnut brown curls of her neatly-coiffed pubic hair to the top of her slit ... and with a ragged sigh, her finger parted the soft lips of her nether regions, and she began lazily rubbing her clit.
"Mom, I ... oh, jeez!"
Cherie looked up, although her fingers never left where they were beneath her tiny g-string. Alex was standing there, wearing nothing but his black, baggy pair of cargo shorts, his shirt gone, a clean white towel thrown over one of his shoulders instead. Cherie guessed that he'd gotten changed in hopes of joining her at the hot tub – no doubt to console her somehow, judging from the rather crestfallen and apologetic look on his face. However, that look vanished from his stunned face the instant he noticed her fingers jammed down under her bikini bottom ... and realized exactly what his mother was doing.
"I didn't, uh ... shit," Alex stammered awkwardly. "I didn't know ... I'll, uh, leave you alone, I –"
"Oh, don't go now, baby," Cherie said teasingly. "I didn't know I had an audience ... here, let me put on a little show for you!" She let out a hiss of pleasure as she shoved her middle finger deep into her slick honeypot, wiggling it about lewdly inside her velvety folds as she smiled at her son.
Strangely, Cherie didn't feel embarrassed in the slightest that her son had caught her starting to masturbate. Not in the slightest. Again, she didn't know why ... and in the cloudy haze that fogged her mind, she decided that she really didn't give a shit why, either. Instead, Cherie felt her pussy growing even wetter as she continued to brazenly fingerfuck herself in the middle of the hot tub, a naughty heat starting to burn deliciously in the depths of her wanton sex ... and as she felt that burn starting to grow, a second finger joined the first as her small hand began pumping even faster between her legs.
"Um, that's okay, Mom!" Alex blurted out, as his mother's hand briskly got busy beneath her tiny bikini bottom. "I don't, uh, well, I'm fine!" He turned his head quickly away from her, suddenly studying how immaculately trimmed the hedges surrounding hot tub, desperately trying not to watch his own mother shamelessly fingering herself. To Cherie's immense amusement, though, she could see her son still trying to watch her out of the corners of his eyes, despite how utterly embarrassed he looked. And more importantly, she could see something that surprised and delighted her to no end...
... that there was a rather large, impressive bulge beginning to stir and strain against the front of Alex's cargo shorts.
Maybe Alex doesn't think I'm a fool after all, Cherie thought wildly. She was finding it hard to think anymore as she stared at her gorgeous son ... she couldn't get over how fantastic he looked. He had a broad, powerful chest, and his abs were absolutely incredible ... and as her hand wantonly plundered her pussy, her palm pressing urgently against her soft, damp chestnut curls of pubic hair, she couldn't help but think how much she wouldn't finding a lover who looked like Alex.
No, not looks like, Cherie thought dully, her temples throbbing as a ragged, lustful grin spread lewdly across her face, is like ... is...
"I'm sorry, Alex," Cherie said suddenly ... and a wicked gleam came to her emerald green eyes. "Actually, I take that back. I'm not. You said you could handle anything, didn't you? So here ... handle this." Slipping her hand out of the front of her g-string, she suddenly hooked her thumbs beneath the thin black spaghetti straps of the barely-there garment, and yanked them down around her ankles, thrusting her hands down under the water. With a carefree laugh, she twirled the g-string up around her head and threw them away, watching as disappeared on the over the hedges.
"Jeez, Mom!" Alex exclaimed. His face reddened even more in embarrassment, as his mother proudly stood completely naked in front of him. Quickly, he turned his head, putting one hand over his eyes. "At least put the swimsuit back on, huh? Here, I'll even go, uh, get it for you." He glanced back uncertainly over his shoulder at the hedges, in the direction where her g-string had vanished.
"Oh, don't be schuch... such a party pooper," Cherie said, giggling naughtily as her voice started to noticeably slur. "Don't you like what you see? Or am I not pretty anymore?" She twirled around in the hot tub, stopping to directly face her mortified son ... and, with a smirk, she cupped her large, luscious tits, bouncing and jiggling them about wildly for him in her palms.
"Well, of course, you're pretty," Alex said hesitantly. "You're more than pretty ... you're gorgeous, Mom. I don't know why you'd ever doubt that." With a sigh, he stepped up onto the hot tub, facing Cherie as he took a seat on the edge of the tub closer to her, his legs dangling in the tub's splashing waters. "And anyone who says otherwise is a liar."
"Liar," Cherie repeated, laughing and waving her hands around in the air. "I bet you say that to all the pretty girls ... and don't think I haven't noticed them throwing themselves at you at all your baseball games!" She wagged her finger teasingly at Alex, making a tsk-tsk sound as she mockingly shook her head. "And don't think I haven't noticed some of the ones you've brought home here ... you know, when you think I'm schleeping... sleeping." Her voice started to slur even more as she twirled around in the tub, pointing up towards the back of the house. "You might think that you can hide back here, behind these hedges ... but trust me, I can really see what really happens from my bedroom window!"
A pained, guilty expression crossed Alex's face. "Oh, man ... Mom, I'm so sorry," he said awkwardly, "I didn't know you could see, um ... that. If I did, I –"
"Why?" Cherie asked, interrupting her son. "Why be sorry? You were having fun, that's all. And after scheeing... seeing what you do with schum... some of those girls, I have to say, watching it was kind of hot." She licked her lips lasciviously at her stunned son, clearly enjoying the sight of his face growing even redder with embarrassment. "And I think it's also safe to say those girls know how to have a hell of a good time ... and so do you."
"Uhh..." Alex scratched the back of his head, looking utterly lost and flustered. His mouth opened and closed a few times, as he struggled to find the right words to say – and found none.
"It's just too bad that those girls you've been with are so, well, unsophisticated." Cherie purred, continuing to enjoy her son's embarrassment more than just a little bit. "Imagine how much fun you could have with an experienced lover..."
Before Alex could even say anything to respond, Cherie slid over in the hot tub, moving brazenly between her son's dangling legs and sinking down to her shoulders in the churning waters, her face mere inches from his crotch. As Alex stared at Cherie in disbelief, she looked up at him, giving him a mischievous wink ... and then she suddenly grabbed the sides of his cargo shorts. She pulled them down hard, yanking them completely off her son. With a loud, naughty laugh, she waved the cargo shorts up over her head like a flag ... and then she tossed them off to the side of the hot tub, far away from her horrified son's vainly grasping hands.
"MOM!" Alex's face turned from red to a bright, almost glowing shade of purple and crimson. "Mom, stop it ... I'm fucking serious, stop kidding around!" His jaw dropped as he stared down at his mother in complete and utter disbelief ... but to Cherie's delight, she saw that his cock, free of his shorts, was rock hard and standing proudly at attention. She gazed wantonly at her son's massive erection, her mouth practically watering at the obscenely beautiful sight of it.
It's so... big, Cherie thought wonderingly. She'd always thought that her husband Scott was fairly well-hung, but Alex's huge dick was way, way bigger ... she guessed that it was easily ten or eleven inches long, and was generously thick as well. And while Alex's eyes were wide with shock, she noticed that his cock wasn't exactly going limp from her attention to it ... and that a nervous, excited smile had crossed her son's face.
Gingerly, Cherie reached between her son's legs. She wrapped her fingers lightly around his erect shaft ... and while Alex flinched slightly and let out a short little gasp, he didn't do anything at all to stop her. Tenderly, she began stroking his cock, slowly, softly, rubbing her thumb with a delicate touch around its tip.
"Mom, you can't do this," Alex whispered hoarsely ... even though his voice quavered with ragged excitement. "It's wrong, Mom, stop ... stop, please..."
"Then make me stop," Cherie replied with a laugh. "If it's so bad, and scho... so wrong, why aren't you stopping me? Because right now I don't think it's wrong at all, angel." She looked up into her son's pleading eyes as she continued to stroke his dick, loving just how hard it felt in her hand, loving the sensation of her fingers sliding over the shaft and the long, soft, fat vein that ran along its underside ... and especially loving the sight of the clear, bubbling liquid dribbling excitedly out of the tip of its crown.
"I ... Mom, no..." Alex looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn't. Instead, he simply reached out towards her with a trembling hand, and stroked the side of his mother's head gently with his fingers, an earnest, loving smile on his face. "I just don't want you to do... ohhhh ... to do something that you'll... we'll ... regret..."
"Oh, c'mon ... I just want to have a little fun," Cherie said. "What's wrong with that? I just want to make you happy..." She smiled adoringly up at her son. With a deep, ragged breath, Cherie gently put her fingers around the base her son's hard shaft ... and then lowered her head between his legs, swirling her tongue around his balls before slowly licking and kissing her way up the length of his cock.
"Oh, Mom," Alex groaned, "oh ... ohhh ... ohhh, yeah..." He leaned his head back, looking up into the dark night sky as he gently put his hands on his mother's shoulders, keeping her flushed, pretty face firmly planted between his spread, muscular legs. "God, your mouth, it feels so good ... so ... fucking... good..." One of his hands slid up from her shoulder as Cherie sucked and licked him, sliding tenderly up the side of her neck to her face. Admiringly, Alex caressed his mother's cheek, running his finger along her jawline ... and then groaned even louder as her soft, luscious lips slipping over the crown of his aching cock.
He's not stopping me, Cherie thought excitedly, her heart practically skipping a beat as she felt Alex's fingers caressing her face. He wants this ... he wants me.
"Does Mommy's naughty mouth... mmmfff ... feel good on your dick?" Cherie murmured playfully, as she gave the engorged head of Alex's prick a soft, sloppy kiss. "Am I... ssslllpp ... a good little cocksucker?" She moved about slightly in the hot tub, the warm water bubbling around her as she put her hands firmly on Alex's powerful thighs. She slid her hands up his legs, lightly pressing her fingers against his hips ... and then she lowered her mouth around Alex's stiff cock, hollowing her pretty cheeks as her lips fully encircled his shaft. Her head began to bob up and down on Alex's excited dick, nice and sinfully slow, taking more and more of his length into her hot, wet mouth as she began to wantonly suck his cock.
"Ohmigod, Mom," Alex hissed eagerly, "holy shit... uunngghh!!" He closed his eyes, leaning back slightly as he gently ran his fingers through her long, curly locks of brown hair, lightly pressing his hands to the sides of her head as he guided her mouth along the length of his cock. Whatever reservations Alex had about his own mother giving him a wet, sloppy blowjob seemed to have totally vanished, replaced instead with a wanton, lust-crazed eagerness...
... and Cherie loved it.
For a moment, Cherie pulled her mouth off of Alex's shaft, jerking his saliva-coated length in her hand before holding the fat, mushroom head of his cock teasingly between her fingers. She dipped her head deep between her son's legs again, making him squirm restlessly as the tip of her tongue fluttered over his asshole. Still holding his cock, she trailed her tongue upwards to his scrotum, gently sucking on one of his balls, then the other ... and then she slathered her tongue wetly up the underside of his cock, kissing and lapping at his manhood before taking it back into her hot, wet mouth.
"Your cock... mmnngghh ... tastes so good, baby," Cherie said to Alex as she grinned up happily up at him. Abruptly, she spit on his dick, coating his length with thick, messy drool as she began to stroke him with her hand again. "It's been so... ssslllppp ... so long, since I've had a nice, fat dick in... mmggkkk!!! ... my mouth..."
"You look beautiful, Mom," Alex whispered hoarsely, "so fucking beautiful ... especially with my cock sliding between your lips..." He clenched his fingers together, grabbing the chestnut curls of Cherie's hair more tightly ... and with a raw, savage urgency, he suddenly began thrusting his cock with faster, more insistent strokes in and out of her mouth. Relaxing her throat, she let her son ram his shaft even further past her tonsils, until – to her obscene delight – his balls began slapping wetly against her chin as he began fucking her face in a wild frenzy.
"GGGGHHHHKKKK ... MMMMMM!!!" Cherie spluttered, her eyes shining with lewd bliss. She hollowed her cheeks as Alex thrust his cock frantically between her lips, sucking on his length hard, the fat head of her son's dick pushing past her tonsils and down her throat as he urgently fucked her throat. She could barely breathe, but she really didn't care. Shamelessly, she jammed her right hand between her legs, fingering her creamy slit with shameless abandon as she blew her sexy son. She hadn't quite realized just how horny she was, or how much having her own son's cock in her mouth was turning her on...
... or just how close she was to cumming herself.
"God, this is just incredible," Alex panted, "I can't believe ... so good, just so... uunngghh!!!" He reached down as his mother sucked him, wantonly groping her big, jiggling tits as her head bobbed enthusiastically between his legs. Cherie let out a grunt of decadent bliss, loving the feeling of her son's strong fingers roughly pinching and fondling her breasts ... and loving the sensation of his huge cock sliding between her lips even more. The depraved, wet gurgling sounds of Cherie sucking her son's cock filled the air, punctuated on occasion by Alex's cries of delight, usually as she lightly raked her teeth across his sensitive shaft...
... for Cherie, it was almost all too good to be true.
This is like some sort of crazy dream, Cherie thought wildly, as she took her son's dick deep in her mouth to deepthroat him. But if it is, I don't want it to ever end ... not ever! She gagged slightly as her nose pressed against his stomach, her nostrils getting tickled by a curly blonde thatch of pubic hair as she slurped on Alex's cock ... but her lips kept sliding wetly over his shaft with eager enthusiasm, her eyes shining with crazed lust as her fingers furiously fucked her needy cunt.
"Oh, yeah, Mom ... I'm ... I'm..." With a hoarse groan, Alex's hands gripped the edge of the hot tub tightly, his hips trembling as Cherie's lips slid further down the length of his cock. Suddenly, Cherie felt her son's thick, tasty dick pull back just a bit, pumping his delicious hot semen into her mouth, spilling his load all over her swirling tongue and down her throat. Greedily, she began swallowing Alex's sticky cum, with stray, sticky gobs of his sperm leaking out of her lips and dribbling down her chin.
And as Cherie happily gulped down as much of her son's creamy seed as she could ... her hips began to buck and writhe under the sultry, churning waters of the hot tub, the walls of her slick cunt contracting powerfully in a hard, wonderfully filthy orgasm, hugging her pumping fingers as she came. It'd been so long for Cherie since she'd felt such a sweet, sinfully good release, her body denied the carnal pleasures that she secretly craved ... and as she convulsed in orgasm, she dimly realized how badly she missed that pleasure.
And even in her lust-filled, drunken haze, even as her own son's cock deliciously twitched and pulsed inside her mouth, even as she drank his cum like some slutty whore ... Cherie didn't quite understand what was happening, but she instinctively knew that somehow, it felt right. It made her feel better than she'd felt in a long, long, time...
... and Cherie knew she wanted more of it, and that she didn't want to deny herself anything anymore.
As Alex let out several last, loud gasps, Cherie finally pulled her mouth off her son's still-spurting prick, her hand pumping his length as a few final jets of his cum splattered onto her deliriously happy, lust-crazed face. She looked up eagerly at her astonished son, smiling happily at him ... and then closed her mouth, gulping down the hot semen coating her tongue, loving how it tasted as it slithered sensuously down her willing throat.
"Mmmm ... good to the last drop," Cherie said, as she swallowed the last of her son's sticky load. "Was ... was that as good for you as it was for me?" She batted her eyes at Alex in mock innocence, wiping the sticky cum that was dribbling out of the corner of her mouth away with the back of one small, slender hand. Most of her body was still submerged beneath the frothing waters of the hot tub, which Cherie supposed was kind of a good thing. Her whole body was trembling uncontrollably, her heart pounding with naughty excitement.
I can't believe I just did that, Cherie thought wildly, I ... holy shit, I just sucked my own son's cock ... and it was so, so fucking good...
"Yeah, Mom," Alex gasped, "that was ... that ... goddamn, that was fucking amazing!" He let out a low, satisfied whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you ... we ... just wow, Mom, wow!!!"
"Well, if you thought that was amazing, schweet... sweetie," Cherie laughed, "just wait until we go back inside. Mommy's about to rock your world." Placing her hands firmly on her son's knees, she quickly stood up out of the tub's warm, sultry waters ... and as she did so, she suddenly felt incredibly light-headed. She swayed on her feet, grabbing the edge of the hot tub as she stumbled, nearly falling over in a crumpled heap. Vaguely, she realized that she was about to crack the side of her skull against the ledge of the hot tub ... except suddenly, she was lying in her handsome son's lap, his sticky, softening cock pressing lightly against her back as he caught her.
"Oh, hi, Alex," Cherie giggled drunkenly. "Have we met? I'm your mother." She tried to stand up, but her feet slid out from under her, and she collapsed right back into her son's lap. Helplessly, she began laughing, laughing so hard that tears started streaming down her face ... but when the laughter stopped, Cherie found that she was still crying.
And she didn't quite know why.
"Mom, it's okay," Alex said softly. Holding Cherie by the waist, he gently slid his mother off of his legs, still breathing hard as he moved her to sit onto the ledge of the hot tub next to him. "You've had a lot to, uh, drink."
"I know," Cherie said, as she sucked on her sticky fingers. Some of Alex's sticky cum was still splattered on her flushed face, but she didn't really mind. Or care/ "And it tasted scho... so good, too. C'mon, baby. Lesh... let's go upstairs. And fuck. I totally want to fuck. Do you?"
Unsteadily, Cherie tried rising to her feet again, but her head swam and she stumbled back into Alex's arms, her big, ripe breasts pressing against her son's broad chest. Giggling again, she wrapped her arms carelessly around his shoulders, softly kissing and nibbling at his neck and at the side of his face ... and stared at Alex in blank confusion as he gently but firmly pushed her away.
"Easy, Mom," Alex said awkwardly. Drunk as she was, Cherie could see an uncertain, loving concern in her son's eyes. "Even though I ... no. Just no." He gave a sad shake of his head, which only confused Cherie more. "I'm going to stop myself. Not now ... not right now, anyway. Not like this."
Taking his mother by the hand, Alex helped Cherie up out of the hot tub. He tenderly wrapped a towel around her shivering, naked body, and led her by the hand back inside the house. Dimly, Cherie was aware of Alex leading her up the stairs, and taking her to her bedroom, and gently laying her down on the cool silken sheets of the bed she once shared with a husband who apparently never loved her. And as the room seemed to lazily spin around her, she felt the mattress move as someone else joined her on the bed ... and she felt a strong hand resting lightly on her bare hip, and hot breath caressing the nape of her neck.
And after that ... Cherie didn't remember anything at all.
Not a thing.