Chapter 11

Jeff picked his sister and took her right in front of us. She was so turned on and flustered from a day of ponygirl training that she melted into his arms and swooned as he bent her over on the couch and mounted Ellie’s cute little ass.

I was horny and ready to be fucked after a long day, and I won’t say that I wasn’t a little jealous that my son picked his sister over me. I know it makes me sound like a terrible mom, but after a day of being edged close to Orgasm, I would have fucked anyone or anything if given the chance.

Ellie was sweaty and had been worked hard, but she was ready for cock just like I was. Jeff bent her over on the couch and began to fuck her from behind, right in front of us. It was like having a little porn show right in my own home, and it turned me on instantly.

I wanted Peter to grab me, throw me on the floor, and fuck me right next to them.

Jeff and Ellie weren’t quiet while they fucked at all. Slapping, tickling, moaning, groaning, slurping noises, even the occasional queef while he fucked the air bubbles out of her pussy.

My daughter was playfully smiling while he pounded her pussy. They didn’t behave like lovers. This wasn’t intimate or affectionate. It was two young people who were incredibly horny, having fun and fucking.

“You can masturbate and watch,” Peter said decidedly.

I pouted and reminded him that I had completed my pony training for the day.

“Did you forget that you belong to me and do what I tell you, when I tell you, and how I tell you?”

“No, Sir. It’s just that you said you wanted normal time,” I continued to pout and give him the big doe eyes that usually worked to make him melt.

“Does this look like normal time?” Peter pointed out that our son had Ellie’s tits draped across the armrest of our couch, her cute bare ass up in the air while he pounded her from behind. “Flap-flap, flap,” he drove his cock into her body from behind.

“How do you want me, sir?” I asked politely. I was apparently still Vixen, after all. I had thought we were dismissed from training, but if my husband wanted me to serve, than I serve.

“Anyway, you want to lie on the floor, sit on the couch, whatever you want to do, but don’t take your eyes off our son and daughter until Jeff gets his nut,” Peter instructed.

I obliged by draping myself across a chair in the living room and getting straight to business. I didn’t ask if I could orgasm because I didn’t want to be told that I couldn’t. I felt guilty reaching the first one with my finger diddling my clit.

Peter observed but also went about his business at home and made himself a cocktail. The smell of Ellie’s sex was musky, and she groaned and fucked back on Jeff’s dick when he slowed down. She eventually turned him around so that she could ride him on the couch and fuck him at a faster pace.

I was genuinely surprised that Jeff had held out for over nine minutes and showed no signs of stopping. Stamina was one benefit of having a younger lover. I turned myself on, fingering my clit and nipples with wild abandon. I was tempted to just give myself an orgasm. Peter may not notice, and it may be worth a punishment just to reach the Nirvana of a full and authentic orgasm.

Instead, I edged myself like a good girl, setting a good example for my daughter, even though she was getting fucked hard and probably had no idea that I was watching from the floor.

Ellie wasn’t holding back either; she was making little “mew-mew-mew” sounds as she ground her pussy on Jeff’s cock. I noticed Jeff tried to French kiss her every now and then, and she would push him back on his shoulders or avoid him. Ellie allowed him to penetrate her lips, but only for a few moments before finding a way to turn away politely.

I wasn’t sure if Jeff noticed that she was avoiding his kiss.

She had no problem deeply and passionately kissing me when we were paired together for training. As far as I could tell, she loved kissing me. Yet, with Jeff, it seemed different. She wanted him to punish her pussy and fuck her hard, not make out.

Once Jeff came inside of my daughter, Peter instructed me to clean his cock. I crawled forward and instinctively used my mouth to wash Jeff’s flaccid dick. He had just pulled out of his sister, and she was lying on her back with her sticky gash spread wide.

Jeff didn’t put up any resistance. I kept my hands behind my back and sucked him clean; all the while, my daughter waited, almost anticipating that I’d clean her pussy as well. Peter didn’t tell me what to do.

I thought about asking if I should eat her out, but Peter and Jeff were talking about something and not paying attention.

“Clean me up, Mommy!”

Ellie’s ecstatic face was lit up with joy, she clearly enjoyed the ride her brother gave her.

I cringed when Ellie called me Mommy. She rarely called me mommy unless she wanted something and was trying to butter me up. I popped her hard on the clit with the flat of my palm and felt the squishiness of her cum. “You are not the boss of me just because I am down on my knees, and you are lying up here,” I teased playfully.

The guys didn’t respond. I took it upon myself to lean forward and began to lick my daughter’s pussy out. She tasted great, fully wet and slick. Ellie pulled my hair a little and lifted my head up further so that I climbed closer up her body. She kept her legs open and let me just lick the outside and labia before circling her clit and then dipping my tongue inside her pink.

Jeff and Peter finished talking about whatever they were talking about. I could feel their eyes on my back, watching me. “Don’t forget to lick her asshole, too, I fucked that as well!” Jeff quipped.

I wasn’t sure if I was still in pony mode or not. I didn’t argue with my son about it or quibble. I dutifully licked my daughter’s tender anus while she sighed. She had been fucked, pumped, tweaked, and was leaking cum out of both holes.

“Damn, Mom, you got me horny again!” Jeff grinned as I ate my daughter out and cleaned his cum out of every fold and crevice between her thighs.

I shook my butt for him playfully. “Any hole, any man, any time, no waiting,” I smiled coyly. That was my nature; I am hot-blooded and part Puerto Rican. I love sex. I really didn’t even think about what I said until I felt my son grab my hips and mount me. He placed the tip of his hard dick at the entrance to my asshole.

“Which do you prefer?”

I was a little surprised that my son had taken me seriously, and I was shocked he could get it up again so quickly.

“I am an anal queen, baby,” I turned to caress his face. I shouldn’t have done that. The moment I saw my son’s wanton expression of lust toward me, my stomach turned, and I felt really guilty about fucking him. It was different when he took me from behind, and I didn’t have to see his young face.

It was too late to tell him to stop, he plunged his dick into my asshole without any lube and rammed it in. I was used to rough sex and anal play, and I’d been loosened up by training all day. It didn’t hurt – but it did surprise me how rough he was.

“Ooh,” I started to clarify that when I said any hole at ANY time, I should have qualified that with it being around my training time. He stuck his finger in my mouth and pointed the tip down my throat for me to suck on it. I was surprised he knew to do that. I didn’t gag; I expertly allowed my son to tickle his finger with my tonsils.

He pulled my hair, stroked my ear, and slapped my ass the way that I like – it turned me on, and I soon forgot it was Jeff riding me and just leaned into the fuck and allowed it to happen. I rode him for a few minutes, and I thought he’d cum quickly.

Jeff spun me around so that I was on my back on the floor. Then, he stared into my eyes, and he leaned in close to French kiss me. I turned my head instinctively, and I think that turned him off or insulted him. It was just so strange.

“You kiss Ellie,” he pouted. I didn’t like it when men beg or sound like that.

“I kiss Dancer because you order me to,” I huffed, realizing as I said it that I had a double standard, and I really couldn’t justify it. It was just easier when I was given an order and I had a hard time seeing my son that way.

Jeff didn’t yell, and he didn’t make demands. He wiped his cock off and went away to sulk. I felt bad and wanted to apologize, but my son had already left by the time I wiped his cum out of my asshole.

I bit my lip and couldn’t maintain eye contact with Peter or Ellie as I retreated upstairs to change into street clothes and take a shower.

Lunch that afternoon was awkward. I didn’t always ask anyone what they wanted. I usually just made it. Today, I chose to ask Jeff if there was anything I could make for him. It was my way of offering an olive branch.

“Whatever,” he shrugged.

I went and made ham sandwiches and chicken noodle soup. Ellie didn’t help, which was normal for her. I half expected her to come into the kitchen and start working since her father had suggested she start learning a little of the domestic side of obedience training.

I didn’t feel like a slave when I made food for my family. Anyone in the family could grab a snack, and Peter often made dinner. It was a normal mom thing to do.

I wasn’t trained as a “domestic slave” to perform chores on my hands and knees by my husband and focus on domestic discipline or service. However, I had done my share of it when I was younger. My mom was probably a part-time domestic slave. She was often happiest when she was dusting, wearing a short skirt and a corset, while bringing my father and his friends refreshments.

Peter used it as a baseline in training when dealing with what he called a “foal.” It’s a way to introduce them to service without gratitude that isn’t exciting or glamorous.

That’s the word for a young, untrained horse or a newbie pony girl like my daughter. A “filly” is a girl who has some experience and knows the “ropes,” but a Mare is someone like me who has experienced a broad range of BDSM and competed in multiple pony girl competitions.

There is also a distinction between pony girls who are “workhorses” or “show ponies.” Ellie wanted to be a show pony – the kind that prances and looks really pretty while she high steps. They wear elaborate headdresses. Most of my training has been as a show pony.

I’ve also been a workhorse, or “cart horse,” with my mother and other women. You have to learn to step in tandem with each other and pull heavy carts. Cart horses are often raced at pony events. I’ve done a little of both. I doubted Ellie had any interest in the hard, sweaty work, but I knew Peter would make her endure it if she wanted to become a show pony.

It was a rite of passage for all new pony girls to be raced. They also have solo foot races and single-rider sulkies. There are women who do nothing but trot around the campground all day, offering rides to total strangers and pulling them in carts.

At lunch, we didn’t talk very much. I felt that something had changed in our family dynamic, and I felt responsible for it.

“I am sorry that I didn’t French kiss you, Jeff. I don’t normally French other men,” I broke the silence with my apology.

Jeff seemed surprised that I was still thinking about it. “I am not some rando stranger, but it’s cool. I respect your boundaries.”

I wanted to tell him that I didn’t have that as a boundary. It felt uncomfortable talking about this. “Most men don’t want to get that intimate, Jeff,” I started to say that I’d try again tomorrow, but Peter cut me off.

“What did I tell you about cutting this off at four hours? I want to have normal times and normal lunches without discussing BDSM.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Peter frowned when I called him Sir. I had inadvertently signaled that I was really not done talking about BDSM.

“I am sorry, Peter. I just don’t want Jeff to have hard feelings. I was so frazzled and overly worked up that I wasn’t thinking,” I said. Then I turned to Jeff and explained, “You fucked me after we finished for the day.”

“You said any hole, at any time.”

“I always say that, Jeff. It was a force of habit. Your father is right; we cut it off after the training. He instructed me to clean Ellie, and I didn’t mind what you did at all. I enjoyed it, but we have to establish a boundary, and it ends at the four-hour mark.”

We let it go at that, but Peter said that he wanted to introduce Ellie to the egg test later. “The egg test is something that I use to gauge your physical control and your progress. A little later tonight, I’d like you to perform the test, and if you pass, then I’ll extend the training to five hours a day on weekdays and maybe eight hours on weekends. How would you like that?”

“Let’s do it, Daddy!” Ellie wanted to do it right then.

“Not right now. A few of my friends are coming over to play with your mom, and I want her to be the control and demonstrate it to you. Now that you both know what she does with my friends, I assume you aren’t going to make it weird?”

I had no idea that Peter invited friends to play with me. I liked to be surprised and have spontaneous sex. I immediately started getting wet. We had kept our kids in the dark about that, but they admitted recently that they had figured out what I did with them when I took them upstairs a long time ago. I suppose I made it pretty obvious when the guys came downstairs frazzled and sweaty and left without hanging out with Peter.

“They can watch Mom and Ellie perform the test,” Jeff offered with a bemused expression.

“These guys don’t even know your mother is a pony girl, and they certainly won’t know my daughter is in training. They are fairly vanilla,” he explained.

“We’ve got bondage stuff hanging from the closets, and some of the portraits of mom are nude in leather gear. How can they possibly not know?” Jeff asked.

“These guys didn’t come here to examine our furnishings. They came here to get their rocks off, Jeff. They aren’t the kind that question us about our hobbies and proclivities. I doubt they would be surprised that your mom is into whips and chains, but that’s not their thing. That is why I respect their boundaries.”

Jeff seemed frustrated. I slipped into something sexy, a black negligee, and awaited my husband’s friend’s downstairs.

Usually, Jeff and Ellie make themselves scarce, but they both found reasons to putter around in the living room to spy on me ostensibly. Peter warned them not to interact with these men and to just act like this is all perfectly normal.

“What is normal to the fly? Is chaos to the spider? Right, Dad?” Jeff laughed as the doorbell rang. I was glad that the two men were finally there and rushed to answer the door.

I recognized one guy as John. He was an executive at a bank or something. He was white, middle-aged, and in fairly good shape. I didn’t recognize the other guy. His name was Mark, and he was Hispanic.

I smiled at them and invited them inside. I’ve done this meet-at-the-door routine plenty of times, and usually, if it’s their first time meeting me, they can hardly believe it.

They didn’t even look me in the eye and stared directly at my nipples, peeking through the lingerie. I noticed that Mark’s eyes wandered over to Ellie, who was doing her best to remain conspicuously noticeable while pretending she had no idea the men might notice her. Once again, a little jealousy wafted over me – I couldn’t help the feeling of being second banana to my own daughter making me feel a little dejected.

Peter scowled at her, and quickly introduced them. “These are my TEENAGERS, Jeff and Ellie,” he said, placing the emphasis on the word teenagers.

“I am eighteen, Dad!” Ellie pouted and stood akimbo with her hands on her hips. I noticed she had changed into some tight-fitting jeans to entice them.

Peter ignored her, and I brusquely led the two men upstairs and let them stare at my ass crack while I treated them to a sexy walk. I sat on the bed and quickly stared, fidgeting with their zippers to get them out of their khaki pants. “Let’s slip into something more comfortable.”

“I didn’t know you had kids,” Mark said as I tried to unbuckle his belt. It was one of those executive-style belts with clasps that are hard to unbuckle.

“How about you unwrap me, and fuck my brains out, and then I’ll get the baby pictures out, and we can look at old family albums,” I said rather rudely. I hadn’t intended it to sound like that, but I recognized my tone as soon as I said it, and I couldn’t reel it back in.

“Sorry, it must be awkward.”

“What must be awkward?” I looked up at him, put his hands on my tits, and encouraged him to squeeze while I pulled his dick out. He was already partially hard.

“Having a hot daughter like that,” John added.

“It’s no different than having an ugly one,” I smiled playfully and pulled John’s cock out with my other hand.

“We aren’t trying to offend you. It just seemed like she was trying to show off,” Mark explained.

“Do you guys want to go back downstairs and talk to her instead of me?” I asked bluntly as I stopped jerking them off. They both immediately dropped the topic, but I couldn’t help but shake the idea that they were thinking about Ellie while they were boffing me.

I offered them some Cialis, which my husband keeps on the dresser for these occasions. The men at this age often have erectile problems, and one little blue pill can get them hard for hours. However, neither needed it.

I decided that if they wanted to think about Ellie while they fucked me, it was not much different than fantasizing about Taylor Swift or a porn star.

“How do you want me?” I said as I got on the bed and slipped out of my lingerie. I still had on my black stockings and heels. I wiggled my ass for them.

“Do we take you one at a time?” John asked politely.

I smiled at him invitingly and said that it depended on how aggressive he was. “You can do me together or one at a time.”

I climbed on the bed and started playing with a black dildo, teasing it, and begging them to come play with me. The both needed a little coaxing or assurance. I wanted to just get to it, I was still so deeply horny from the afternoon’s session. I wanted to be touched. I wanted to be fucked!

“Do you do anal?” John asked. Mark glanced at his friend and nodded approvingly, as I certainly did.

“Any hole, any man, any time,” I assured him that I did it all, but that he should begin now and not keep asking questions. I said things like that to men all the time, but now I was instantly transported back to the awkward moment when my son’s cock was thrust into my asshole on the couch and I said the same thing to him about “any hole, ANY man and ANY time.”

That wasn’t the deal – this was just something I did with him during training, right? I asked myself if I had intentionally or subconsciously led my son on.

“Lube?”

They were still asking questions, watching me fuck myself into a lather on the dildo that I had only intended as a place holder for the real thing.

“Spit, pussy juice, or there is some lube on the cabinet; I can play rough,” I assured him sweetly in a baby voice reminiscent of Ellie’s pouty mewlings. I realized I was thinking about Ellie and Jeff as much as they were.

“You like to be spanked?” Mark asked as he sat on the bed and started rubbing my bubble butt like he was trying to warm it up.

“I like to be spanked more than I like talking about what I like,” I assured him. I reached behind my back and slapped my own ass nice and hard so that he could see I wasn’t kidding.