Chapter 1

“Mom, I’m going out back to practice my cheers. Don’t let Robert and Tommy follow and leer at me!” Peggy Collinsfield buried the skimpy outfit, covering her perfect, sophomore tits and ass, behind large pom poms.

Peggy’s two, younger brothers looked up, innocently, from their schoolbooks, clearly maligned by their sister’s accusation. They lay on the living room carpet in front of the television.

Joan Collinsfield smiled at her sons, “You’re imagining things, Sweetheart. They’ve been perfect angels, studying and doing their homework.” She returned her attention to the sock she was darning.

Peggy harrumphed and stormed outside to the back yard. Her mother always took those brats’ side!

Robert decried his sister’s departure, “Peggy’s just a dumb girl. Who would want to look at her?”

Tommy chimed in, “Yeah, Mom, you’re way hotter than her!”

“Excuse me, young man?” Joan was shocked her youngest would say such a thing!

“Cool it, Tommy.” Robert warned.

Tommy pouted but didn’t apologize.

“You’re not too young to wash your mouth out with soap.” Their mother threatened Tommy.

“I’ll wash your mouth with something.” The boy looked away and mumbled.

“What was that, young man?” Joan sat up straight. Her eyes bored into her son’s.

“It was nothing, Mom.” Robert tugged on his brother’s arm. “He’s just hungry.”

“Supper isn’t until six, but you may have a snack. There are fresh oranges in the refrigerator.”

Robert stood, pulling Tommy to his feet. “Thanks, Mom. We’ll eat them in the cellar.”

Boys, Joan thought, only boys would have fun in their dank, poorly lit basement cluttered with her and her husband’s old junk. She hadn’t been down there in months.

The older boy dragged his brother to the kitchen and opened the fridge. He grabbed two beers, then stocked it with two from the top cupboard. “You almost blew it, brother!” He handed one to Tommy and cracked open the metal tab.

“Fucking teases, both of them.” Tommy vented. They threw their pull tabs in the trash and retreated to the cellar.

Robert closed the upper door and switched on the dim bulb hanging from the center of the floorboards above. They descended the steep stairs. “You gotta keep your cool. I’m as horny about Mom as you, but we have to finish in here before we can stop pretending.” The older boy sipped his beer and opened a cardboard box tucked behind a barely used rowing machine. He fetched a well worn book from it and tossed it to his brother.

“I’m sick of jacking off!” Tommy caught the book and sat in one of the sturdy, metal chairs. “I want to suck Mom’s tits and fuck her holes, like the boys in these books do.” He gulped a slug of beer and unzipped his trousers.

“You’re gonna, Tommy.” Robert promised. He pulled a hammer from the tool chest. “Once we get these rings in place and test that chain, we’ll never shoot our cum into dirty rags again!”

In the living room, a dull pounding beneath her diverted Joan’s attention from the rhymes belted out by her daughter in the back yard. The boys told her they were dismantling the old, coal furnace, to make room down there. They’d been at it for weeks, but recently the noise sounded more like hitting concrete than rusty iron. They had taken a lot parts and other junk to the landfill already. Despite her youngest boy’s rude outburst, she never had to punish them, unlike their spirited, older sister. Only three days earlier, she grounded Peggy for wearing terribly revealing clothes.

Joan and her husband forbid their daughter from dating, until she turned sixteen, but both were sure the teen was meeting boys, some nights when she’d said she was visiting girlfriends. She’d come home with smeared lipstick and rumpled clothes, but never smelled like sex. Joan was pretty sure her daughter was still a virgin.

Joan had lost her virginity when she was fourteen. It would be a miracle, if she could protect her daughter from her mistakes, some far worse than getting pregnant with Peggy, when she was eighteen. Peggy’s father had done the right thing and married Joan, but few men did that anymore.

Compared to her settled, routine, life as a homemaker, Joan had been a firebrand in high school. She particularly liked to run with the bad boys, the ones who called her ‘cunt’ and ‘cocksucker’. Her husband wasn’t anything like that, and never had been. He was a good man who worked hard and could afford a good life. Joan only picked him, when she knew her grades would never get her into a college where there were lots of rich boys. She spent her senior year trying to get knocked up by him.

Fourteen years later, Joan had calmed down and had learned respect for her ‘good man’. What he lacked in the bedroom was more than compensated by his love for her and care and attention to their children. He was a good father and provider. His romantic side, if not his erotic one, was as enduring at it was endearing. They often hugged and kissed, when the children weren’t watching. She had grown quite fond of him, drifting slowly and far away from youthful indiscretions and rebellion. She had to make sure Peggy never loved cock and lust crazed boys as much as she had.

The heavy pounding silenced, startling Joan out of stirring memories. She wondered if the boys had finally finished their project.

“HOORAH!” Peggy cried from the backyard.

Joan started up from her couch, setting down her sewing. She noticed a tiny dark spot on the cushion still dented from her weight. Then she felt it, between her thighs. She was wet. The barest memory of her misspent youth had made her wet enough, down there, to soak through her clothes and into the couch. She shivered from shame and walked to the kitchen. Her husband would be home soon. Joan started dinner.

The cellar door opened as she was putting a roast into the oven. She leaned over, her bent ass aimed right at the two boys who emerged dirty and sweating. Tommy gasp at the sight of his mom’s round butt, close enough to smack with his dirty hands. Robert groaned at the sight, disturbing his bother and his mother.

The oven door closed with a clang when Joan bolted up and turned to her boys. “What did you do with the peels?” She looked at their grimy hands.

“Oh, the oranges,” Robert almost quailed. “Um, we threw them out back.” There was a small window in the basement that overlooked the back yard. They’d spent as much time ogling their sister’s barely clad body bouncing through her routines, as they had pounding iron devices into the cellar’s walls and floor. “You know, through the little window.” The two boys hurried away.

“Were gonna shower and finish our homework.” Tommy promised, newly aroused by his mother’s hot ass moment. Why did she always have to be such a fucking tease? If he hadn’t just jacked off in the cellar, he swore he would have pounced on her right then and there.

Minutes later, Peggy entered from the back yard, glistening from her efforts. “Mom, I gotta shower and get dressed. I’m meeting Shiela after dinner, to um, study math.”

“No you aren’t, young lady.” Joan was still fired up from remembering her last school years. “You will study math, with your father, tonight. You’re still grounded for buying that disgusting skirt and top.”

“I told you, Mom, it’s what all the other girls are wearing. I look like a preacher’s daughter at school!”