Chapter 124: Sandy Dubois, 28, Turning the Tables...

Sandy DuBois and her mother, Barbara, talked about the Naomi/Randy sex show when they got home. Both were impressed that a city girl was so lively. While son-fucking still wasn’t that widespread in the bayous, they both knew women who had given in. Whether for money or practicality or, eventually, enjoyment — or all three — it was now an accepted option in the Cajun Bayous. Not yet a common practice, but everyone knew at least one active mama.

There was certainly no condemnation — just an understanding of the way things worked these days. Son-fucking was now simply part of the culture — deal with it. Masturbation had always been an option. Blowjobs. Now, son-fucking.

The two of them were mending a fishing net, stopping every once in a while to suck a boy off. Sandy told her mother, “I think Esther got it wrong. Backwards.”

Barbara, a cock in her mouth, held up her hand in the universal ‘wait-a-minute’ signal. Sandy watched her mother fondly — the woman was a good sport. Never argued about getting the DuBois Boys off. Sucking cock during the day, getting fucked at night.

As she swallowed, the boy said, “Thank you, Barbara.” Sandy had insisted on good manners even back when they were just jacking the boys off. And, as perpetually horny as they were, they were essentially good boys. They loved their mother and grandmother, and were fully aware of how fortunate they were to have two understanding — and available — women in the house.

Sandy wiped a tiny glob of cum off her mother’s lip and swallowed it without thinking. She was still picturing that city girl and her son. Sandy crossed her legs. She and Barbara tried not to masturbate in front of the boys — why pour gasoline on a fire?

Barbara noticed her daughter’s erect nipples and slightly flushed cheeks, but didn’t comment. Not while the other two boys hadn’t cum for a while.

“How did Esther get it backwards?”

Sandy put a finger up to her lips — she wouldn’t discuss her idea in front of even one boy, let alone two. Because one of the conditions of Sinéad’s invitation to Sandy was to bring her sons to the sex show, the boys were even more aroused than usual.

Naturally, since Sandy wouldn’t fuck them, they wanted it more than anything else in the world.

When Sandy finally had some privacy, she explained to her mother, “Esther tole Sinéad she’d go ahead and fuck Tee-Ray if he got to do the city girl.”

Barbara nodded, “Sure, makes sense to me.”

And, it also made sense to the other mothers who were there to witness history — an actual city girl actually fucking her actual son.

When Naomi let Tee-Ray do her, it was a prestige thing. Those women didn’t know it, but it was like in the Old West in America. If an Indian brave got close enough to touch a hated white enemy — it was called counting coup — he became an instant legend. It was more of an honor than if he’d killed the Calvary officer.

So Esther gained considerable respect among the other moms when her son got to fuck a city girl.

“Yeah, it made sense to me too. At first. Then I got to thinking — would I let the Dubois Boys fuck me if they got to fuck a city girl? No, ma’am, I would not.”

Barbara patted her daughter’s hand, “Honey, I don’t know how you manage to hold out, but I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Mama. But then I’m thinking — what would it take for me to give in?”

Then she had to halt the conversation. Another naked boy came up and stood between her legs, “Thank you, Mama.” Sandy didn’t bother to look up to see which one it was — she could tell it was her youngest because she could take it all in easily. He was still a growing boy.

A couple of minutes later, she resumed her tale. “So I’m watching Tee-Ray and I think — what is Esther getting out of this? She gets to see her boy fucking a city girl, but so what? Now Tee-Ray gets to fuck her from then on.”

Barbara smiled, “Ah.”

Sandy nodded, “If I was Esther, I woulda done it the other way. I’d a had that city boy fuck me.”

“Of course — you are so right! You gonna go tell Sinéad you’ll do it?”

“I’m thinkin’ on it.”

Neither mother nor daughter needed to discuss the implications. Both knew that the Dubois Boys would be be fucking their mother if she went back to the Bayou Bar and followed through with her idea.