Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Mother, Son,
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Grace and Ava each made one mistake when they were young. No, it wasn't that they gave birth to baby girls at 14. It was marrying the men who knocked them up. Grace and Ava, best friends since infancy, had to learn to raise children, run households and service husbands. All at once. After the inevitable divorces, they blended their families -- two moms, two daughters, two sons, one house. Six pulsating libidos. What could go wrong? Well, add in two very horny grandmothers.
Hi, I’m Grace. What defines me? Most women in my situation would answer, motherhood. I have a 14-year old daughter and a boy, 13. But being a mother is not the raison d’être of my life.
Not any more than getting knocked up by a man twice as old as I was. Reggie was 28 at the time. And he’s history. He not only moved out of Buckhead, my uptown, upscale Atlanta neighborhood, he left the country for England.
So long as my monthly alimony and child support checks are deposited on time ... well, good riddance to bad rubbish. Actually, he’s a pretty good guy. I was just way too young.
Now Reggie didn’t take advantage of an innocent teenager. By the time I was 14 and pregnant, I’d lost track of how many men I’d cheerfully fucked. Back then I much preferred men to boys. Now that I’m 28 myself, I’ve begun rethinking that equation.
Fortunately, I don’t have any trouble attracting men, women, boys. I’m tall -- 5’ 10” and slender. Thick raven hair, vivid green eyes, model’s cheekbones, strong chin. Slender neck, wide shoulders, perky boobs, tiny waist, tight butt, long legs.
Which leads me back to what makes me tick. It’s a single word, three letters beginning with ‘s’ and ending with ‘x’.
Early self-experimenting led to explorations with my then-and-now best friend, Ava. Ava was, and is, just as gutsy as I am. We turned from each other’s bodies to the local talent. Boys were amazed -- and enflamed -- to discover two girls as curious and even braver than they were. Ava and I, once she discovered her parents’ videos, had early and easy access to porn. If we saw it on tape, we tried it in person.
We gave up our cherries to the same boy on the same day. It was his last Buckhead summer before leaving for his freshman year at college. Of the four older boys we’d been sucking off, Ava and I like Davey the best. The younger boys we were doing might qualify as fuck buddies later, but for now Davey was the man of the hour.
He had the presence of mind to line his bed with towels as soon as his parents left for work. He did Ava first, she and I had talked it through. She was three weeks older than I was, it just seemed fair.
It wasn’t until day three that Ava and I ‘got it.’ Really started to enjoy it. A lot. We wore poor Davey out. By the second week we were fucking all four college-bound boys. Enthusiastically fucking them. We couldn’t get enough.
Ava and I talked about it. They’d be gone in the fall. As dumb about sex as we were, we somehow knew that these boys weren’t sophisticated, experienced lovers. They were several years older than we were, but how much sack time would 17 and 18-year old boys have had?
As for Davey and his friends ... they’d never had a girl so eager as Ava and I were. If we’d seen it in Ava’s parents’ porn stash, we wanted to try it. These four boys, and many of the younger boys we toyed with, and even many of our girlfriends knew Ava and I were lovers.
We not only didn’t care who watched us lick pussy, we got an extra kick out of an audience.
We also discovered how easy it was to get the younger boys sucking each other’s cocks. Just the promise of a blowjob from an actual, real live girl was enough. I remember that summer before our boobs came in as the season when a tidal wave of oral sex engulfed Buckhead.
Before our four ‘boyfriends’ left for college, Ava and I were already flirting with older men. They had more money and, we hoped, more bedroom experience.
We didn’t drop our college-bound boys, why go crazy? But we were fucking our way through a varied crop of 20, 30 and 40-year old men. We compared notes, traded, compared more notes. Agreed that the quality of sex varied considerably.
My favorite was Reggie. He was smooth, confident, handsome. And very very good in bed. He didn’t have the largest cock I’d ever seen, but it was nothing to be shy about either.
When I had to tell my parents he got me pregnant ... well, it wasn’t exactly a shotgun wedding. No firearms were involved. Just the threat of a long, ugly prison sentence.
Because our lives often mirrored each other’s, Ava’s baby girl was born three weeks after mine. Similar result -- another 14-year old girl got married.
And, it was our two marriages that were more of a mistake than having the babies. Neither Ava nor I knew anything about being wives and mothers. Our own mothers helped more than they should have, given the two careless daughters they had.
Fortunately Ava’s husband, Kevin, was as good at making money as my Reggie. Stock broker and real estate. Feeling pressure from both Ava’s parents and my parents, the men tended to agree to most of what we wanted.
Starting with side-by-side houses in Buckhead. Next, another baby for Ava, another baby for Grace. Boys this time.
Now Ava is as lively as I am. During our pregnancies, during our brief engagements, during our three years of married life, neither of us saw the slightest reason not to enjoy the pleasures of other men. And some boys. And a couple of women.
We weren’t flagrant fuckers. We used, for our age anyway, considerable discretion. Covered for each other. Out mothers were a great help, still are, in this arena. They look after the four kids, provide alibis, make sure the coast is clear.
Reggie asked for a divorce first. I told him to check with my father. Reggie didn’t argue, he knew the move would be expensive. But the novelty of fucking me had long worn off. And he had little interest in his son and daughter.
Kevin saw how relaxed and carefree Reggie seemed to be. Liked what he saw. Wanted what he saw. Ava’s parents let him buy his way out of his marriage too. Unlike Reggie, Kevin stayed in Atlanta, but moved to a different neighborhood.
Neither guy asked for visitation rights which underscored how awkward and inappropriate our two marriages had been.
Ava and I sat down with both of our parents. Well actually, with my father and her mother. They were the aces when it came to finances.
It was her mother’s idea. Ava and I could afford to keep both houses, but why would we want to carry all those expenses? If we moved into my slightly larger four-bedroom house, we could sell hers, bank the equity, eliminate a mortgage and utilities.
It made sense financially.
But my father talked about more than money with us. He pointed out how Ava and I had been best friends practically from birth. How her daughter, Maggie and mine, Mackenzie, were already bosom buddies. And Ava’s son, Conner and mine, Chase, were becoming close. Though at only two years old, it wasn’t as apparent with the boys.
Those were the two primary considerations -- financial and social. We’d be doing the smart thing so far as money was concerned. And if the six of us -- two moms and four kids -- could get along, that would clinch it.
Reggie and Kevin were actually decent guys. Ava and I were just spectacularly unprepared for marriage and motherhood. Reggie earned quite a few credits after the divorce. When I told him Ava was selling her house, his real estate experience kicked in.
He went over the numbers with my father and Ava’s mother. If Ava took about half of the sales revenue and bought half of my house, it would help on taxes and almost entirely eliminate my mortgage.
Even though we’d owned the houses for under four years, it was a time of spectacular real estate appreciation in Buckhead. For both houses -- the one we sold and the one we now lived in.
So, giving it more thought than we gave to getting knocked up and then getting married, Ava sold her house easily and bought half interest in mine. Our monthly expenses were more than halved.
Now, everything depended on how the six of us got along as the children went through the various stages and phases in front of them.
Fast-forward eleven years. Ava and I are now 28. Look younger, but are actually the same age as the men who later became our husbands.
Our daughters, Maggie and Mackenzie (Mac) are now 14. The boys, Connor and Chase, 13.
Our four-bedroom house had been more than large enough when the kids were little. Now, sleeping arrangements were more critical.
First thing, Ava moved into my bedroom. Which meant the girls could each have their own bedrooms. They still slept together more nights than not, best friends, giggling and whispering into the night.
The boys didn’t seem to mind sharing a room, they each had a queen-sized bed. Although Ava and I knew they sometimes slept in the same bed, the same as their sisters did.
All four kids had known Ava and I were occasional lovers. We tried to be discrete, but with four curious kids ... well, nothing could be done about it now.
Because he was worried about neighboring kids, and potential liability issues, Reggie had had a tall fence erected that surrounded our pool. The pool was visible from the second story of the house behind ours, but it was occupied by a nice, white-haired widow in her 70s. She was friendly to us, especially to the children, but she minded her own business. Ava and I had always skinny dipped. The kids too, once they learned how to swim. The girls had gone though a brief shyness period where they wore little bikinis, but had outgrown that.
Maggie and Mac mostly ignored the stares from their younger brothers and even tolerated some friendly underwater roughhousing from time to time. Ava and I were also used to some ‘accidental’ groping once in a while.
By the time the boys turned 14, we were all so used to seeing erections racing around the pool, around the yard, sometimes inside, that no one bothered to comment on it. As Ava told the girls, “They’re fucking horny teenagers, it’ll pass.” The first part was true; the second? Not yet.
The girls seemed pretty imperturbable when it came to Connor and Chase. Given who their mothers were, it wasn’t surprising.
We knew that Maggie and Mac had been sexually active for years. Since we were the ones who put them on the Pill.
The boys? Hard to tell for sure. Both Ava and I had been woken up late at night by eager fingers playing with our pussies. Sometimes we kicked out and cursed them. Other times, depending on our mood, we might feign sleep and let them get us off.
Which isn’t hard. Not for me, not for Ava. It had always amazed the boys and the men how much Ava and I loved sex. How fast we would cum. How hard. How often.
I know I’m sexy. My mirror tells me so. As do my lovers.
Ava is shorter than I am -- 5’ 5”. Five inches shorter. But she’s molded into one fine form. C-cup. Slightly larger butt than mine, but still taut. Dark, almost black hair, every bit as lush as mine.
Ava and I keep our pussies waxed, have for years. As do Maggie and Mac. In fact, the same guy comes by regularly and does the four of us. Since the girls don’t seem to mind when Connor and Chase watch, Ava and I don’t say anything either.
Ava shrugged, “What kid doesn’t like to look at pussy?”
I guess you would say that Ava and my parenting philosophy is ... casual. Sometimes one of us will even attend a teacher conference. Once in a while we remember to ask to see a report card. I guess we rely on the kids not to fuck up too badly in school.
We’ve asked the girls to let us know when they’re going to be out all night on a date. Sometimes they remember, sometimes it’s a spur of the moment thing.
Ava and I know the boys are far more curious about us, about our love life, than the girls are. Over the years, Connor and Chase have learned to listen outside our bedroom door on those nights when Ava and I are in the mood for each other.
They know to wait until the noise level, the passion level reaches a certain crescendo before easing the door open a few inches. If Ava is eating me, by that point I wouldn’t notice if a football team came in. If Ava does notice, she rarely breaks the rhythm to shoo them away. She knows she has me where I want to be, climax following climax.
So, not that often, but once in a while, Connor has seen his mother either licking pussy or having her pussy licked. Just like Chase has seen me. Neither Ava nor I particularly get off on it, but we tolerate the voyeurism because it seems so important to the guys.
Okay, maybe we do get a little extra charge out of a couple of naked boys jacking off to us. Like I mentioned, casual.
Jacking off? Being somewhat realistic, and remembering how much we had loved it at their age, we taught the girls, then the boys, how to masturbate. We were relieved the girls caught on so quickly. And that they could reach orgasm so easily.
We didn’t have to tell them it was okay to fool around with each other, they had already figured that out for themselves.
As soon as Connor and Chase were able to dry cum, we did the birds and bees thing with them too. As with the girls, it included full body demos, selected tapes and plenty of toys.
Not to brag, but if they gave out report cards for jacking off, Connor and Chase would be on full scholarship. Ava and I know they jerk each other off, we’ve seen them. So have Maggie and Mac, who take most things about their brothers in stride.
One thing -- and I know it’s silly, but for some reason Ava and I became fixated with it -- is laundry. At an early age we made the girls, and the next year the boys, responsible for their own laundry. Want clean clothes? Head for the basement.
I mention this because it was there, in the basement, that the boys surprised me for one of the few times in my life. Connor was sitting on the dryer, legs dangling, and Chase was sucking his cock. That they might be doing this hadn’t even, and probably should have, occurred to me.
Conner just grinned, “Hi Gracie.”
Chase, also erect, turned to face me for a moment, smiled, “Hi Gracie,” and went back to sucking cock. Both boys utterly unperturbed.
Later I asked my daughter about it. Mac shrugged, “Shit, Gracie, they’ve been sucking each other off for years. No biggie.”
Ava hadn’t known about it either, but at least she had suspected it. “Jacking off feels great, but when you cum as many times a day as the boys do, you need other things.”
Ava had a funny feeling about the boys. A faint suspicion. She installed a hidden cam in our bedroom. And promptly forgot about it. A few days later she called me into our office. “Watch this, Gracie. The little fuckers.”
The nightlight was faint, but we could clearly see Connor and Chase sneak into our room three nights in a row. They had a new routine. Rather than try to get us off, which woke us up whether we admitted it or not, they now were lightly stroking our pussies, then licking them. Then trading moms and doing it again.
I whispered, “Those cunts.” But there was a wisp of admiration in my tone.
Ava looked thoughtful, “I guess it really doesn’t hurt anything. They’ll probably get bored and move on to something else.”
“Maybe. Do you think they’re doing the girls too?”
Second hidden cam.
Yes. Indeed. Should we tell the Maggie and Mac? We were torn. It was a sneaky violation, but essentially harmless. Besides Ava and I had snuck in and placed a hidden cam in the girls’ rooms.
Ava and I didn’t even discuss placing a cam in the boys’s room. That went in the next morning.
Connor and Chase were even more sexually active than Ava and I had dreamed about. Jacking each other off? Hell, they did that in front of us. Sucking cock? Fucking each other? Even the girls hadn’t known about that.
Ava was more equanimous than I was. “Look at their little butts, who could resist seeing that every day?”
Equally surprising -- I wished we’d installed cams much earlier -- was that Connor and Chase were fucking the head of our weekly cleaning crew every Monday when they got home from school.
Madge was in her 50s, scoured the house top to bottom, didn’t steal from us. That she was giving the boys pussy raised her value a couple of notches. Ava and I gave her a larger cash bonus. I think Madge figured out what it was for.
So, why did it feel like we were at a crossroads in that Buckhead home? Not sure. Ava and I were financially comfortable, the house had long been paid for. Alimony and child support covered expenses, allowed for savings and we followed the investment advice of Ava’s ex -- Kevin. After my father and Ava’s mother had approved the suggestions.
The girls -- Maggie and Mac -- were seemingly well launched. At 15, they’d been fucking boys, then men, now married men, for years. They were doing okay at school, good enough to be on a college track.
The boys -- Connor and Chase -- well, who knew? They cheerfully and openly tired to feel up Ava and me. Not often enough to become annoying, so sometimes we let them get away with it for a few seconds. So far as we could tell, neither boy seemed to have a preference for either one of us.
Chase was as likely to try to get a finger on my clit as on Ava’s. Connor was the same way. His own mother? Fine. Me? Equally fine.
As shocking as that would seem to most mothers, letting our own sons get us off, neither Ava nor I even discussed it with each other. We had come of age letting the male sex, and some females, pleasure us. Connor and Chase weren’t thuggish about it. They were smiling, smooth and took being rebuffed in stride.
Except said rebuffs seemed to be fewer and fewer. Whether inside, out by the pool, in the pool, knowledgeable fingers were successfully finding Ava and me.
Why they rarely bothered their sisters became obvious when we installed that hidden cam in the boys’ room. Maggie and Mac were fucking the boys. Usually when Maggie and Mac didn’t have a date. Always in the boys’ room, so they could go back to their own beds at night.
But some nights, they came home from a date, woke the boys up and fucked them and fucked them.
So far as Ava and I could tell the girls didn’t care whether they fucked their brother or his best friend.
Ava and I weren’t that surprised. The girls had healthy sex drives and there was around 16 inches of hard cock right next door.