Chapter 4: Unfinished Business

Emily sat in the centre of the bed facing the door. She was dressed in a red satin negligée with spaghetti straps and matching red satin panties. Her legs were sheathed in flesh-toned fully-fashioned stockings featuring black backseams, heel and toe reinforcements and welts. The stocking-tops were clipped to a black satin and lace garter belt. She wore cherry-red fuck-me pumps, her makeup was heavy and her flaming red hair was stylishly coiffed and she reeked of Dior Poison.

She heard the creak on the stairs and began to shiver a little even though it wasn’t particularly cold.

This was how her late husband Buddy demanded she prepare for him. He told her what to wear, how to pose and which toys to lay out. Buddy was very specific about how he posed her while he did the things he liked to do to her.

Her son entered the bedroom and all thoughts of Buddy dissipated.

“You look beautiful mom and you’re wearing my favourite perfume,” Richard smiled at his mother with love and adoration.

“Come here son and let me take care of you,” Emily beckoned, hooking her red-lacquered fingernail at him and Richard shucked out of his bathrobe and approached the bed.

He was already hard, his manhood standing proud from his tanned, toned body, his handsome face full of rapture.

Richard climbed on the bed and his mother welcomed him into her arms and they kissed tenderly. She resisted reaching for his phallus even though she yearned to touch it. For the last week they had been fucking like rabbits, unable to resist each other. Richard liked to get naked and greet his mother at the door when she came home from work dressed in her business suit. He would press his lips to hers and ravish her while she was fully-clothed, tearing open her blouse, hiking up her skirt, lifting her petite body so that she had to wrap her arms and legs around him while he carried her to the couch or the kitchen countertop or the dining table.

He’d pull down her panties and tear out the crotch of her pantyhose and taste the sweet nectar of her vaginal juices, bringing her to extremis with his lips and tongue while she scissored her gossamer-sheathed legs against his face, indulging his fetish for her nylons. Then he’d clamp his mouth to hers and enter the sodden vaginal passage through which he had entered the world and fuck his mother until they both climaxed, pawing at other, screaming obscenities, slaking their incestuous desires.

Afterwards Emily would go to her room and change and join him for dinner and they would talk like mother and son but there was an undercurrent of sexual tension between them and they would retire early to his mother’s bedroom and spend hours exploring each other’s bodies before they surrendered to their desires and made love in the big bed. Richard would spend the night, returning to his room in the wee hours so that Katerina, his mother’s housekeeper, would find his bed slept in and his clothes discarded.

Emily had gone bowling straight after work. She played in a mid-week women’s bowling league with her friends Elspeth Longmire, Silvia Swanson, Melissa Mitchum and Susan Connaught because it was important that she didn’t change her routine or lifestyle. It was vital that no one suspected what was going on in the Carter household.

On bowling nights Emily’s ‘girls’ wore matching uniforms consisting of skater-dresses in their blue and yellow team colours. The sleeveless form-fitting dresses were made from a high-quality blend of polyester and spandex with a mid-thigh length flared silhouette and snug waistline. They wore yellow spandex full-cut bikini panties over tan pantyhose because their skirts flew up when they bowled.

Richard had begun to molest Emily as soon as she came through the door, eager to get to his mother dressed in the form-fitting skater dress but she had fought him off and told him to wait. She was sweaty and her mouth tasted of beer and nachos and she wanted her son to experience her full femininity. She told him that she would wear the skater dress for him another day when they were home alone but for now he should be patient and come up to her bedroom in half an hour.

It was worth the wait. The feel of the cool, sleek sheathlike negligée against his bare flesh felt wonderful. His mother was embarrassed about her little pot belly but Richard found it very sexy. He adored mature women and their bodies excited him, he had no time for skinny little gym-junkies. He kissed her deeply, tasting her lipstick and inhaling her perfume. Then he suckled on his mother’s breasts while his hands explored her petite body, snaking down the contours of her trunk, lingering on her slim waist and stroking her little belly.

Emily guided his hand down her body and slipped his fingers under the hem of her negligée and he caressed her thighs. He adored the feel of her gossamer stocking-tops and played with the clasps on her garters, snaking a finger along one until he found the soft bare flesh above her stockings.

His mother shuddered and her tongue slid into his mouth, further igniting his passion. Richard sought his mother’s cleft and found it freshly shaved at his request. He could feel the mound of her pubis through her panties, her labial slit a little damp. He pressed a finger into the cleft and parted her vulva and his mother gasped as his fingertip pressed the slinky satin against her clitoris.

She reached for her son’s rod and found it steely-hard, the velvety skin of the shaft lined with pulsing veins, the mushroomed glans soft and yielding and dribbling pre-ejaculate. She scooped up the precious dewy droplets and massaged them into his quivering phallus. She liked to suck on it but right now she wanted her son deep inside her. They were spending the tonight together and there was plenty of time to explore each other’s fantasies but right now she needed a good fucking.

Emily reclined on the big bed pulling Richard down on top of her. His big cock pressed into her belly while his fingers slid inside her panties and parted her labia. He slid two fingers inside his mother’s warm, wet vagina and pressed his thumb on her clitoris. She groaned and pulled his face to hers and kissed him deeply.

“Put it in me Richard. Fuck your mother,” she bit his earlobe and arched her body in a wanton display of lust.

Emily guided Richard’s cock inside the gusset of her panties and nestled it in her dewy cunt lips. He pushed his mother down into the bed and drove his engorged phallus into her steamy quim. Emily locked her legs around him and scissored them, knowing that the feel of her stockings on his flesh would drive him wild, she raked his flanks with her high heels, encouraging him like a jockey driving a mare to finish a race.

Richard fucked his mother with long slow strokes, feeling her cunt cling to his manhood as he withdrew it and then drove it back inside her all the way, grinding his pubis into hers so that her clitoris was stimulated. His mother felt small and yielding beneath him, her negligée gliding across her belly, her stockings sliding on his skin as he kissed her and held her tight and quickened the pace.

She howled into his mouth and wrapped her arms and legs around him and pulled him close as she shuddered and mewled and moaned as her climax peaked. Richard drove his cock all the way inside his mother and released his issue deep inside her vagina as is spasmed around his swollen member, expressing his seed.

Mother and son clung to each other as they orgasmed together. As their passions peaked and began to subside they lay in each other’s arms; mother and son kissing, cuddling and expressing their need, desire and love for each other until Richard was ready to go again.

In the early hours of the morning Richard disentangled himself from his mother’s embrace and slunk back to his bed and fell into a deep sleep. He didn’t know where his mother got her stamina. She was an early riser and either went jogging or went for a bike ride or did yoga every morning before she went to work at nine. He on the other hand liked to sleep in.

When they embarked on their incestuous relationship they established some ground rules and agreed that they already had a pretty good cover story to justify Richard’s presence in the house. His wife Victoria had kicked him out and was in the process of serving him with divorce papers. Richard was under a lot of stress and had left the two automobile dealerships that he managed in Mirfield under the supervision of his deputy Robert Stevenson who was more than capable of overseeing operations while Richard tried to get his life in order.

Emily Carter, being a doting mother, allowed Richard to stay under her roof while he did so. This was the story that Emily sold to her lifelong friends Elspeth Longmire, Silvia Swanson, Melissa Mitchum and Susan Connaught. Her ‘girls’ were sympathetic and expressed their concern for Richard and told Emily that she was a saint for doing so.

Richard still kept secrets from his mother. He had yet to disclose to her that he had fucked Silvia Swanson, Melissa Mitchum and Susan Connaught and for the moment he had no intention of doing so. He had also not yet disposed of the pussycat videos because he found them so titillating. Watching his young mother in the video tapes being violated and abused by his long dead father was just too provocative and fascinating. The tapes were squirreled away in the hidey-hole behind the loose panel at the back of his wardrobe.

He had finished cleaning out the attic but kept the little nest that he had made for himself at the back of the attic: the old rug and couch with the side table facing the lowboy with his little television on it and his stash of graphic novels and comic book collection. Richard spent part of every day up there when he wasn’t lazing by the pool.

Richard heard his bedroom door open and half-expected his mother to come into the room and kiss him goodbye before she went to work. In anticipation he flung back the covers to expose his morning glory to her. But it was after ten in the morning and it was Katerina, his mother’s housekeeper, who had entered the room.

“Mister Richard, I’m sorry, I thought you were up and out of the house. I come to tidy room and change bedding,” Katerina said by way of an apology.

Richard flicked the covers back over his naked body and blushed. Katerina had been with the family for as long as Richard could remember and had been his babysitter and nursemaid when he was younger. When Richard left home to go to college Emily had reduced Katerina’s hours to half-days on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. Katerina ran the household and did almost everything except wash Emily’s clothes which Emily insisted on doing herself. Out of loyalty, Emily still paid Katerina for the full week.

However Katerina did wash Richard’s clothes when he was home and she began to collect the garments that Richard had casually strewn on the floor or draped over the furniture.

“I’m sorry Katerina, I thought you were someone else,” Richard realised the mistake he had made in saying so as soon as he had said it.

There was only he and his mother living in the house so who else would he have been expecting?

“Is ok Mister Richard, is nothing I haven’t seen before,” she said in her thick Slavic accent which was as heavy now as it was when she had first starting working for the Carters.

Katerina dropped Richard’s dirty laundry into a plastic clothes basket and placed it on the floor just outside his room and picked up the clean sheets that she had bought up to his room.

“What I meant was that I’m expecting Victoria to come see me and I thought she had let herself into the house,” Richard lied as a means of explanation for his faux pas.

“Is ok Mister Richard. Not much happens in this house that I’m not privy to. I keep family secrets for many years. You know I can be trusted,” Katerina dropped the sheets on the chair next to his desk and stared at him knowingly.

Richard was appalled and frightened. If Katerina knew about him and his mother sleeping together she might gossip or attempt to blackmail them.

“What do you mean by that?” Richard sat up in bed and glared at Katerina.

“Your mother and Mister Buddy. Before accident they have, how you say? Very rocky and torrid relationship. Mister Buddy not very discreet about his affairs. Not my business so I say nothing to nobody,” Katerina sniffed and began to fuss with the mess on Richard’s desk.

Richard ruminated on what Katerina had just said. She was usually very reticent talking about anything personal. Richard knew that she was married to a man who worked as an engineer for the railway but not much else. She had been his housekeeper and part time nursemaid and nanny for so long that Richard considered her a fixture in the house.

Now he looked at her in a different light. He had never fantasised about her sexually; she was just an inanimate being in the periphery of his life. Richard felt a pang of guilt that he had never thought about her as person with feelings and a life outside the Carter household.

He studied her as she fussed and cleaned ignoring him as she tidied up the room. He supposed that she felt the same way about him.

Katerina had to be sixty but her age was indeterminate. She had a heart shaped face, high cheekbones, square chin, fair skin and blonde hair that she kept in a bun. Her makeup was heavy, lots of black eyeliner and mascara and ruby-red lipstick. She was appealing but not classically pretty.

She wore the same uniform that she had worn ever since Richard had known her: a simple blue rayon shift fastened down the front with big white buttons. It had elbow-length sleeves and a white collar and the hem rested just above her knees. She sometimes wore a pinafore or apron over it but not today. She wore cheap tan matte nylons and white thick-soled Mary Jane’s. Nothing particularly alluring.

Katerina was unremarkable, nondescript, the kind of woman you would pass by without noticing but as Richard studied her he noticed things that appealed to him. The shift was tight-fitting and cinched at the waist. Her ass and belly had gotten bigger as she aged and the rayon clung to her rounded buttocks and her small chest. She had nice plump legs and in the silence he could hear the hem of her shift swish against her hosed thighs. It was a pleasant sound.

Richard decided to keep her engaged to find out exactly what she knew or suspected.

“What do you mean by Buddy not being discreet about his affairs?” Richard probed.

“He sometimes bring women home during the day while Mrs Emily at work,” Katerina shrugged as if it was nothing.

Richard continued probing.

“A question for you Katerina. Did my daddy ever fuck you?” Richard asked.

“Mister Buddy fuck everything in a skirt, Mister Richard,” she replied matter-of-factly.

She stopped her fussing and looked at him knowingly.

“He say if I want to keep job I should bend over for him whenever he wanted,” she shrugged.

“No big deal for me. Alexi away all the time with work anyway. Besides, worse things happen to me in old country. Mister Buddy good man. He pay me extra for doing extra,” she shrugged again.

“Did my mother know?” he followed up the question.

“Your mother never talk to me about personal business but I think she knew that Mister Buddy was womaniser. She ... how you say ... turn a black eye,” she answered but Richard thought that her incomprehension of proper English was feigned.

“You mean a blind eye,” Richard corrected her.

She gave him a wry smile and shrugged.

Katerina picked up a jacket that Richard had left hanging on the back of a chair and she went over to the wardrobe and took out a coat hanger and hung it up and began to rearrange the clothing, hanging the pants together, then the shirts and finally the jackets and coats. She paused briefly and scratched at the small knot in the wooden wall at the back of the closet.

Richard froze.

“Like I say, not much happens in this house that I’m not privy to.” Katerina turned and faced him.

“You know?” Richard whispered and his face went pale.

“I clean Mrs Emily bedroom and I notice picture on wall is not quite straight. I straighten and I see tiny hole in wall near frame. I not stupid Mister Richard,” Katerina continued.

“Picture is only ever like that when you home from college. When you marry Miss Victoria picture is not moved. Then you come stay without Miss Victoria and picture is moved again,” she tapped her fingernail against the knot and smiled at him brazenly.

“Teenage boy is curious. I understand. I wash your sheets. I clean your room. I know you like ladies underwear and nylons, I not say anything. Not my business,” she continued.

“Are you blackmailing me?” Richard baulked.

“I understand teenage boy is horny, maybe watch mother through hole. Understandable. But you grown man now with wife. Not very nice Mister Richard,” Katerina frowned at him.

Richard breathed a sigh of relief. She knew about his peephole and his stash of panties and nylons. Richard had sometimes left them under the mattress so Katerina must have found them there. But she hadn’t implied that she knew that Richard was now sleeping with his mother so he figured their secret was safe.

“Like I said, are you blackmailing me?” Richard baulked.

“Mrs Emily pay me well. She pay me for full week even though I only do three days. But a woman can always use more money,” Katerina smiled at him.

“Is ok though. You not pay for nothing. Same deal as with Mister Buddy. You bend me over whenever you like. Like I say Alexi always away with work and when he home his petukh not get hard very often,” She held up her forefinger and made it slowly droop.

“You try. You like,” Katerina boldly strode across the room to Richard’s bed.

She threw back the covers exposing his naked body. Richard was still hard.

“See. Your petukh not floppy like Alexi. Is big and strong like Mister Buddy’s,” Katerina reached out and stroked Richard’s thickening cock.

Richard was too stunned to move and Katerina climbed on the bed and straddled his prone body. She positioned herself so that her crotch was resting on his cock.

He looked up into her face. He could see the fine wrinkles and the age spots she tried to cover with her thick makeup. Her makeup looked like it had been hastily applied, the eyeliner was a little wonky and her mascara had run a little, her cheeks had been rouged a little too heavy and her lipstick did not conform to her lip line. All of that only made her more appealing to Richard.

Her fat ass began to undulate.

“You like panty and nylons on your cock Mister Richard,” she smiled down at him wickedly.

Richard did like panty and nylons on his cock and as Katerina ground her pubis against his hard cock it became rock hard. Whatever she was wearing under that shift felt very nice: satiny, slinky and cool, rubbing on his shaft.

He began to unbutton her maid’s uniform, unfastening the big white buttons one at a time starting at the top while she rocked back and forth on his cock. He could feel the fleshy folds of her sex through the fabric of her panties. She smiled down at him salaciously.

He exposed her brassiere. It was old and frayed and made from white polyester-spandex with wide shoulder straps and front snaps. There was nothing sexy about it at all but that is what Richard felt was alluring. He unsnapped the clasps between her breasts and opened it.

Katerina had the breasts of a sixty-something woman. They were small, white and saggy with blue veins prominent under the translucent flesh. Her brown areola were huge, her nipples large and rubbery to his touch. They engorged when he reached up and touched them. He circled his fingers around raised glands on her expansive areola and Katerina shuddered, then he tweaked her ductile nipples and she shuddered again.

He continued to unbutton her shift exposing rolls of fat on her belly and her indented bellybutton just above the waistband of her granny panties. Like her brassiere, they were old and white, the waistband frayed, digging into her flesh. The panties themselves were plain nylon with no embellishments. He could see the waistband of her pantyhose through the pellucid fabric.

He undid the last of the buttons exposing her wide hips and chunky thighs. Katerina opened her shift wide so that Richard could see all of her then she shook her hair out of the bun so that it framed her face.

“You like old lady body? Not too bad for woman of my age,” Katerina smiled down at him and shimmied her fat ass.

Katerina was the antithesis of the women he fantasised over: mature forty-somethings, with imperfect but still tidy bodies and pretty faces, dressed elegantly. But there was something about this old woman that he found desirable.

Richard tried to extract Katerina from her shift but she batted his hands away.

“No time to undress. We fuck now. Have house to clean,” Katerina said matter-of-factly.

She lifted her ass off his groin and pulled aside the large expansive crotch of her panties. Richard could see the wiry bush of pubic hair through her pantyhose, the large flabby labia almost brown, guarding the pink wetness of her vaginal opening. She deftly pushed a fingernail through the cheap pantyhose and guided Richard’s hard cock through the hole.

His cock slid into her like a hot knife through butter. Her cunt was fleshy warm and moist. It was loose but the folds of her labia clung to his cock and she did something that made her vagina tighten a little around his throbbing shaft.

She leaned down and kissed him, her thick tongue slid into his mouth and wriggled. She tasted of coffee and strong tobacco but Richard couldn’t complain because he still had morning breath. He wrapped his arms around her pulled her full-figured body close against him, feeling her tits squash against his chest. He thrust upwards but it was difficult getting purchase with this large woman lying on top of him.

After kissing him a little Katerina reared back so that she was riding him while he gripped her wide hips. Her pantyhose were cheap matte nylon but they still felt nice against his flesh as she straddled him and his scrotum rubbed on her nylon panties, which was very pleasant indeed.

She smiled down at him as she began to ride him, pressing him down into the mattress as she ground her sloppy maw into his crotch. Richard thrust upward as deep as he could go and saw a look of divine pleasure spread cross Katerina’s face. He guessed that she hadn’t been fucked for a while.

He got into rhythm with her, his cock coming nearly all the way out of her vagina and then thrusting back inside her up to hilt and she did this nice shimmy thing as he did so to increase their pleasure and ensure that his pubic bone rubbed on her fleshy clitoris.

“Good boy, now we finish,” she grinned down at him.

She fell on him, smothering him with her kisses and she raised and lowered her fat ass, driving his cock in and out of her warm sloppy hole. He wrapped his arms around her and held her upper body tight against him as she ground her fleshy vulva into his groin. Her tongue was snaking and sliding all around his mouth, her cheap perfume invading his nostrils, her coarse nylons chafing his flesh, her fat belly pressing him down. He drove his cock all the way inside her and climaxed.

Katerina shuddered as she climaxed along with him, her body shaking and her cunt quivering. Her whole weight pressed him into the bed as her vagina seemed to extrude his essence into her gaping clunge.

Then she lay still, panting like a racehorse and Richard held her close, breathing almost as heavy as she was.

Katerina suddenly sat upright and began to twist her hair back into a bun and then she buttoned her tunic whilst still sitting astride him, his cock still buried in her cunt.

She dismounted him with some effort, grunting a little. She picked up Richard’s t-shirt and lifted her tunic out of the way and wiped her vulva with it and threw the t-shirt towards the washing basket. She adjusted the gusset of her granny-panties around her prominent pubis and pulled down and straightened her uniform and gave him a wry smile.

“You pretty good Mister Richard. Maybe better than Mister Buddy. Definitely better than Alexi,” her face made a mew.

“We can do whenever you want when Mrs Emily not home but always better to be quick. Just bend me over chair or table when you want. I have old lady pizda but get wet very quickly as you see,” her lipstick was smeared around her mouth and hair was still a little untidy.

“Maybe you can wear some better quality nylons,” Richard quipped.

“No problem. You pay, I wear. Just add to my fee,” she fussed with her hair in the mirror on the wardrobe door.

“How much?” Richard chuckled.

“Put one hundred dollars in envelope every Friday. Leave on desk. Put in extra for good pantyhose. Cheap fuck for you whenever you want, three days a week and I don’t tell about hole in wardrobe. Good for you – good for me,” she turned and smiled at him.

Richard smiled back at Katerina and then began to chuckle as she went to the door, threw his jizz-soaked t-shirt in the washing basket, picked up and basket and went about her business.

“Don’t worry. I get spunk out of t-shirt, no stain. I change sheets when you get up. Lazy boy,” she called from down the hall as if she was just commenting on the weather.

Richard lay back and considered his deflating penis and the seminal fluids and vaginal juices matting his pubes. The bedroom smelled funky; sleep mixed with cunny juice and semen. He suddenly began to laugh. Was there any woman in the town of Bellenau who his father hadn’t fucked? Richard was certainly following in his father’s footsteps.

Richard was pissed. He was more than pissed, he was angry and jealous.

Emily had come home and informed him that she was going on a date with Dennis Bradford, a fifty year old widower who owned an automobile repair and maintenance business in Bellenau. Emily knew him through work as he was subcontracted to conduct warranty repairs and maintenance on vehicles sold and leased by her businesses. Dennis was also on the committee of the Bellenau Golf Club where Emily was a member and played in the ladies league. He had been pestering Emily for a date for quite some time and she had finally agreed.

“I told you that it is important that neither of us change our routine or lifestyle. Going on a date with Dennis will keep up my appearance as a merry widow,” Emily was testy that Richard was behaving like a spoilt child.

It didn’t help that Dennis was a prosperous, handsome man who kept himself in good shape. He had a reputation for being a ladies man. Richard had overheard Emily’s ‘girls’ talking about him, describing him as ‘quite a good catch for some lucky woman’.

It also didn’t help that his mother was dressed in a slinky black cocktail dress, black pumps and sheer lustrous nylons. The dress was low-cut and short-skirted and her makeup was on the heavy side and she had taken some time styling her red hair so that she had two tendrils framing her pretty face.

“Are you going to fuck him?” Richard quibbled.

“I’m going to have a lovely dinner and drinks at the golf club. I’ll make sure that I’m seen dining and dancing with Dennis which will get the tongues wagging and allay any suspicions that I’m a tedious weary old widow who spends too much time with her son,” Emily replied, deflecting the question.

“Well I might go out myself. See what’s out there,” Richard quipped churlishly.

“Maybe you should. Everyone who knows me knows that you are separated from Victoria. You can corroborate our story that you are only staying with me while I support you through a difficult time,” Emily answered sensibly.

She kissed Richard quickly on the lips so as not to spoil her lipstick and deftly slipped away from him when he tried to pull her into an embrace.

“Later honey. I’ll make it up to you I promise,” Emily smiled at him wryly as she picked up her purse.

The headlights of Dennis Bradford’s Porsche illuminated the windows and Emily slipped out the door. She didn’t want to greet Dennis at the door while her son was in a foul mood. Even seeing Dennis kiss her cheek was libel to incense him.

Richard showered and changed into chinos and a dress shirt still feeling miffed even though he knew he shouldn’t. He had no right to feel jealous; after all he was fucking most of Emily’s friends and the housemaid, so who was he to behave holier than thou.

He took a taxi to The Longhorn Bar and Grille and found it crowded but he managed to snag a seat at the bar. The band was in full swing and the dance floor was crowded with couples dancing to upbeat rockabilly music. Couples were two stepping, waltzing and promenading. The men dressed in their best western shirts, boot-cut bluejeans and cowboy boots; some of them wearing Stetsons and the women where twirling their skirts and dresses or shaking their asses in their skinny jeans.

Richard faced the mirror behind the bar and ordered a shot of bourbon with a draft beer chaser and settled into some serious drinking, ignoring the joyous yelps and laughter coming from the dance floor. He was not in the mood.