Author’s note: It seems some readers don’t understand Flash stories and complain because they are too short. They are SUPPOSE to be short, encapsulating a little tale with relatively few words. If you prefer long stories then close this one otherwise pay attention to the storyline and presentation. Thanks.

Marnie found herself singing a tune she hadn’t thought of in years -

“Bend me over in the clover;
lay me down and do it again.”
The words weren’t exactly the same ones in the Limeybirds version from 2004 but they were an inspiration. In high school and college she’d enjoyed trips to the country where a blanket in a clover field offered cheap privacy to fuck. She’d had her share of partners in that venue, even her husband after they got together.

Their marital sex life had become uninspired after enough years to have a fifteen-year-old son. It needed some spicing up! She found a cloverleaf patterned tablecloth and set her trap. Her son had a late practice one night and her husband would be at his usual time.

She’d been diddling herself for at least an hour so her pussy was wet and ready when she heard a car pull in the driveway. Stepping out of her slacks, she bent over the table which gave a straight-on view of her ass and pussy from the door. When the door opened she heard, a loud, “Hmmmm!” followed by dropping pants and a warm fleshy knob probing her pussy.

He felt harder and more energetic than in years and she was so pleased. The thrusts were vigorous as were the spurts of cum that liberally painted her cervix. She came.

Turning her head she said, “How did you like ... EEEEEK!” It was her son standing there with a dripping and dangling dick, and a big grin!

“That was great! Welcome me home that way anytime!”

“It was for your father,” she growled.

He kept grinning, “Speaking of which, I hear the garage door. I’ll hide in the utility room and go out the back door. You’d better get in position.”

She quickly wiped her pussy with a paper towel and bent over. Another “Hmmmm!”, pants drop, and probing phallus. Her son peeked through a crack in the utility room door as she got pounded, hearing once again that melody she hummed.

“I’ll have to ask her the words.”