Chapter 122: Denise Herbert, 33, Scoop-Neck Top...

Denise Hebert called Carole, “The farmer’s market had fresh oysters today. I bought me a whole passel. Enough to share. You want I should bring by a couple dozen?”

Carole grinned to herself — the woman had Richie on her mind. “That is so sweet, hon. Let’s see — come by at 4. Richie will want to see you for sure.”

There. It was out in the open.

“Oh, sure. If that’s convenient for you guys.”

“Babe, if it’s Denise Hebert, anytime day or night is convenient for him. What are you gonna wear?”

Just like that — the conversation was out in the open.

“Oh God, What do you think?”

“Let’s see ... not booty shorts — you look good in them, but they’re too much trouble.”

Denise giggled.

“I know — that pink, scoop-neck top. The one with no sleeves.”

“Okay.”

“You in a daring mood?”

“Maybe.”

“No bra, no panties, no shoes.”

There was a pause, then, “What time did you say — 4?”

That afternoon, Carole told Richie, “Let’s go for it — I think we can get away with it.”

He was a little dubious at the audacity, “Are you sure?”

“No, not 100%. But really, what have we got to lose? She doesn’t have any boys so even if she bolts — so what?”

Carole answered the door in the nude. Richie, also nude and erect, was right behind her.

Denise stopped short, “Oh.”

“Come in, come in. Here, I’ll take those oysters.”

As she left for the kitchen, Richie said, “Mrs. Hebert?”

“Uh, yes?”

“Aren’t you a little overdressed?”

Carole looked back as a beet-red Denise said, “Oh.” Then hesitantly pulled her top up and off. When Carole came back, Richie was kissing the woman passionately. And she was on her tiptoes, grinding into him.

Richie broke the kiss, “Your turn, Mama.”

The kiss had given Denise time to recover from her initial shock. She turned to Carole and grinned, “Your turn, mama.”

As he watched the two naked women locked in a passionate embrace, Richie once again marveled at his mother’s intuition — her instincts.

In bed, both Richie and Denise let Carole direct the action. Denise smiled happily as her new friend licked her way down her body. She understood that Carole was merely getting her ready — getting her ready to be fucked by her son.

Over the next couple of hours, Denise was the center of attention. Carole or Richie or both of them devoured her. She was also aware that they took turns filming the action — and that was just fine too.

Later, in the kitchen, Carole posed with Richie — her arm around his waist, his around her shoulders. Denise, her pussy with that erotic, well-fucked soreness, noted that Richie was erect for the third time.

As she snapped their picture — several snaps — she said, “Can I send these to myself?”

Richie, who seemed to have taken over the alpha role from his mother, said, “Sure — and send everything to Melissa too.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Carole believed that the mother/son shots would generate as much chatter as the ones where they were doing Denise.

Another building block in the Son-Fucking Project.