"NGGHHH, NGGHHH, NGGHHH."
"AIIEEEE, AIIEEEE, AIIEEEE."
The sound of my son pounding it into my daughter-in-law got me wet as soon as I walked in the front door, but I wondered why they hadn't closed their door. I guessed that they hadn't expected me home so early, but then I hadn't expected to be fired in the middle of the morning for telling my boss to keep his slimy hands off me. I also wondered why she wouldn't get off her ass and get another job. Ever since she lost her job at the diner, she hadn't tried to find another one, deciding instead to milk her Unemployment Insurance benefits. If I only had someone to pound it into me like that all day long, I would stretch out the benefits as long as I could. But what was my son doing home so early? I hadn't seen his car. I was about to yell that I was home, so that they could close their door, when suddenly my blood ran cold. Debbie always had been a hot little number, and I thought maybe I had walked into something I wasn't supposed to know about.
I stole quietly down the hall toward the open door. Peeking around the corner, I saw the foot of the bed, Debbie on her back with her legs wrapped around his butt, pulling him into her. I saw his gonads swinging down under her legs-I hadn't seen my son naked like that since he was potty trained. His black pony tail swung as his body moved over hers. I watched as his body, supported on his muscular hairy legs, moved up and down on her. Their sounds of lust excited me. The picture of their body parts coupling and uncoupling with each stroke really turned me on.
The only apparent problem was that my son has brown hair, and what he has of it he wears in a Marine Corps crew cut. And his legs are like toothpicks. Who the hell was this man in bed with my daughter-in-law?
Pulling back quickly, I considered the alternatives: sneak back out, create a scene, or join the party. I'd had nothing to relieve me except my fingers and my magical buzzing toy since Joe had moved out to live with that little bitch, save an occasional evening with Betty next door, which wasn't all that great. Her body was ok, and she could really work her mouth, but there was no emotion. I was pretty sure that Debbie went both ways, but I had never tried with her out of respect for my son. I thought of my stupid ex-boss, who didn't realize that with just a little bit of finesse, we could have been stretched out on the convertible couch in his office at that very moment, or even better, with my feet in the stirrups. That would have been so nice. I could feel it just thinking about it. Oh, all you doctors are so damned arrogant. All the idiot had to do was to ask nicely and I was his. I decided that I had to let these two rolling around in my son's bed know that their conduct was no secret, and it would be more effective if I didn't raise my voice. At the same time, I was getting wetter and wetter.
I coughed. They both stopped moving, suspended in mid-stroke. After a second or two, Debbie raised up her head to look at me, while the mysterious stranger turned to look over his shoulder in my direction.
"Oh, hi, Mom. Er, this is Bud. What are you doing here so early?"
"I stopped here on my way to the Unemployment office. The S.O.B. wouldn't keep his hands off me. I dare him to try to screw up my benefits. I'll have his license."
"No. Gil's mother."
"Does your husband know about this?" Can you think of a sillier question I could have asked? I felt like a fool even as the words left my mouth.
"Actually, he's with my wife on the way to Atlanta for the weekend. The four of us arranged it last night. We've been swinging for a couple of months now. He and my wife dropped me off here this morning."
I was "shocked, shocked." Remember that old line from "Casablanca?" Anyway, my shock wasn't distress, just surprise.
"In that case, may I join you?"
Debbie smiled. "Only if we can use your bed. It's bigger."
"After you, children."
As they walked toward me on their way to my bedroom, both stark naked, I couldn't help noticing that Debbie's body was "ripe", though that was not really a surprise to me, and that Gil was "hung." I couldn't remember when I'd had one that size inside me, or even in my mouth. Well, well, it might be a very interesting morning before I went down to the Unemployment office.
So call me a slob, my bed wasn't made. Debbie sat on it, looking at me. Bud spoke, "I'd love to help you off with your clothes, but not if I have to call you Mom."
"Pat will do fine."
"This one's from before my time. Richard Nixon kept practicing oral sex; he was always trying to get it down Pat."
Looking at his prized possession, I said, "I don't think you're going to get that down this Pat, at least not completely."
Debbie grinned. "Don't worry, Mom, it fits."
I had real going-to-work clothing on, and I didn't want it messed up by foreplay removal, so I stripped myself, as slowly as I could, of course, right down to my bra and panties. "You can finish it now."
"Undressing you or what we were doing when you walked in on us?"
Debbie stood up and moved behind me, massaging my shoulders as Bud reached around me to unhook my bra. As it fell to the floor, Debbie's hands came off my shoulders and moved around my body, to caress my breasts. Her hands felt like I was wearing a soft bra. My already hard nipples expanded again. Bud knelt on the floor to roll down my panties. As I stepped out of them, he leaned forward to lick my slit. Debbie pushed him away. "Go sit and watch, Bud. Mom and I have things to do."
"Debbie, no; you're my son's wife."
"Mom, you're hot, you know it. Gil and I see how men look at you. And when you go over to Betty's place, we know the two of you are getting it on. You should see the look on your face when you come home. I told Gil the only reason I hadn't made a move on you was out of respect for him. Do you know what he said? He said he's been hot for you since he was about ten or eleven, but now he's grown up enough to realize that mothers are off limits. He said he had no problems with the two of us together; he'd actually like to watch."
"My son is hot for me?" As I said it, it occurred to me that I should have said "was", not "is", based on the way Debbie had phrased it. And that play on words made me think of the Presidential Pervert. "What's the definition of 'is' "? Stupid fool; you get caught, you apologize, that would have been the end of it. Anyway, I chose not to correct my grammatical error.
Neither did Debbie. "I'm hot for you too."
"But Gil's not here to watch." Note the feeble attempt to mix prudery and coquettry-is there such a word?
"Bud can report to him. Gil can watch next time. Come with me."
Debbie got on the bed, on her back, knees in the air, legs slightly spread. Her arms reached up, open, to welcome me. I hesitated, looking down at that delicious body, thinking that my son had excellent taste in women. I couldn't decide whether to lie on top of her or next to her. I chose next, and gently moving her arms aside, lay alongside her. Our mouths meshed and my hand went between her legs, slowly massaging her, feeling the dampness that makes a woman's body ready for a man, or for whatever else will go in there. Our breasts pressed against each other, hard, but less than the pressure you feel when you have a mammogram. I moved slightly to the side, one of my breasts sliding between both of hers, a more comfortable interlocking. She pressed one of her legs between mine and our hips moved in tandem as we rubbed each other toward orgasm. From the corner of my eye I could see Bud slowly stroking himself, his mouth ajar. This must have been a new sight for him, or maybe he was just enjoying the show.
Debbie stopped moving, and grabbed me to prevent my body from further massaging hers. "What's the matter?"
"I want to eat you first."
I rolled onto my back and said, "Why does either one of us have to go first?"
She grinned lewdly. Her kisses started at my lips and moved down my neck to my breasts. As she gave each nipple equal time, she began to turn her body, from parallel to perpendicular and then to parallel again, this time facing in the other direction. Continuing to nibble down my stomach, her mouth finally reached its goal, between my legs. At the same time, she lifted one leg over my head and sank her body down, presenting me with my own second favorite meal. Tongues wandered and explored, fingers plunged. Her lips found my clit and began to suck. I felt the sweat pouring off my body. Soon, all too soon, she lifted her mouth off my nether lips and whispered, "Together?" and I replied, "Yes." She pushed her head down and vigorously attacked my love tunnel.
Like a contortionist, I heaved my hips up into her face and my face into her loins, and instantly we were both screaming into each other's bodies, the sounds thus muffled by pubic hair but the excitement loud and clear. The moment of orgasm always makes me sob, my torso shaking. That morning was no exception, and as I lay collapsed under Debbie, her tongue kept working, my body shivering, until I had to force my hand between her mouth and my pussy. The only sound left was the heaving of our lungs, the panting of two marathon runners walking off their efforts after crossing the finish line.
Flat on my back, arms finally spread, I savored the aroma of Debbie's female parts suspended over my face. Feeling movement, I opened my eyes to see a pair of male hands, Bud's hands, pulling Debbie's body away from my face, to make room for his own massive machinery. I opened my mouth to welcome it, wrapping my hands around the base to prevent it from choking me.
I learned how to suck when I was still in Junior High School, and my reputation followed me to High School. There I was undisputed champion of the sport, quite popular as a result, as constant practice honed my talents. My parents were proud of my popularity, not realizing the reason. After all, I'm not that bad looking. Of course, sucking is not the only way to give and get pleasure, and by the time I graduated, Gil was just three months away from seeing the light of day. Mom and Dad had begged me to abort at the very beginning of my pregnancy because, among other reasons, I hadn't the slightest idea whose sperm cell had done the trick. I refused. Freedom of choice doesn't mean that the choice has to be abortion. When that failed, they almost had me convinced to give up the baby for adoption, but every time I felt his little feet kick my insides, I knew that would never happen. Relations between us got so bad that, out of spite, I named the baby after my own father. That's when they threw me out, fearing that people would think he was the baby's father, although the poor man had never even looked at me improperly. For about a year, I supported myself by renting out my body by the hour, or by the night, although sometimes ten minutes in the back seat of a car was enough to get a guy off, until I met Joe. He took me in, changed his job to be able to baby sit while I went to school, and we had a good life, bringing up baby, until that bimbo coaxed him away.
Remember, girls, an erect penis has no conscience.
Anyway, there I was, looking up at Bud's contorted face, feasting on as large and tasty a piece of meat as I had had in my mouth since who knows when. But, like riding a bicycle, you never forget how to do it. After a few real sucks, it was out of my mouth as I kissed the head, ran my tongue around the ridge behind it, tried to push my tongue into the little slit on top, licked all along the underside, fondled the sac beneath it, each action alternating with full sucking. Meanwhile, Debbie sat on my legs, caressing and sucking my nipples. I could feel a huge load building up inside him. After all, I had interrupted him before he finished with Debbie, then watched him stroke himself as she and I ate each other. I felt his hand tighten against the back of my head and I knew it was time. I eagerly awaited his spoonful of sweet cream, especially that first big squirt. I longed to feel it coat the inside of my mouth; I imagined the coating shown in a Pepto Bismal commercial, oozing over every inch of nerve endings in my hungry mouth.
That's when it dawned on me; this S.O.B. had been in bed, naked and buried deep inside my daughter-in-law's sweet body. It didn't matter that she welcomed it, it didn't matter that my son permitted it and was himself doing the same thing, or on his way to do the same thing, with this stranger's wife. How dare he defile my son's family, and mine. I'll be damned if I let him think I'm getting any pleasure out of this. If only it wasn't too late to stop his orgasm. When he emptied himself into my mouth, I refused to swallow. When he finished pumping, I pushed him off me and reached for a tissue, to spit out his offering, leaving him to clean himself off. That was always my job in the past, and I had thoroughly enjoyed it. This time I spit it out, not just dribbled itl Then I cried, uncontrollably.
With no clue as to what had happened, or what I was thinking, they both asked what was the matter. I just shook my head, my crying slowing down, my mind racing. Finally I realized that I would get over it, and began to giggle. They looked at each other, wondering just how crazy I might be. I had giggled because of the thought that had just hit me.
A wet vagina doesn't have much of a conscience, either.
"Fuck me, Bud."
"Oh, no, Mom. You had yours for a while. Now I get to finish what you interrupted."
I laughed, kissed them both, very chastely, and went to take a shower. "I'm going to get dressed and go down to the Unemployment office. I want you both here in this bed when I get back."
Sometimes I think I need my head examined.
I reached the Unemployment office shortly before it closed for the weekend, and the line was short. When I was asked why I left my previous employment, I had no hesitation in telling the nubile looking young clerk that the good doctor had put his hands all over me without permission. She looked me over slowly, obviously approving of the doctor's good taste, finally saying, "Would you be free for a drink one night next week?"
Her eyes glowed as she spoke. I looked her over just as she had done to me. I thought to myself that she was probably a screamer when she had an orgasm. I toyed with the idea of inviting her back to the house that very evening, but decided that I didn't want to share Bud and Debbie so quickly. I wondered if she would even be interested in Bud.
"That might be very nice," I said.
Sometimes I definitely think I need my head examined.
It was a long weekend; lots of big O's and little o's. Bud and I, Debbie and I, Debbie and Bud, all three of us, almost but not quite every opening. Once, when I had my head between Debbie's outspread legs, she said, "I do wish Gil was here to watch us. He'd be hard as a baseball bat."
I lifted my head and spoke without thinking. "I wish Gil was here so that you could watch him with me."
She sat bolt upright, looked at my eyes, then shifted to kiss me, oh so softly. "Yes, Mom, I think he would like that very much."
It was late Sunday evening before Gil dragged his sorry butt into the house. Bud, bowlegged from an erotic weekend, had already taken a taxi to go home, to welcome his wife back to her own bed.
"Hi, Deb; hi, Mom." He pecked both our cheeks. He could tell just by looking at us, but he asked me anyway. "Did Debbie tell you where I was?"
"Yes, she did, dear. We had a long talk about it; now we want to talk to you."
"Aw, Mom, I'm a big boy now. If Debbie doesn't object to what I do, if she does the same thing and I don't object, why are you so uptight about it? Hell, you told me how you turned tricks to support yourself when I was born."