Chapter 4

I slept in. I was up pretty late the night before. Evidently, Mom had slept in too. Nothing much happened on Sunday so I won’t bore you with the details. Except for one incident.

Mom wandered into the kitchen while I was still eating the breakfast I had made for myself, a rather poor affair compared to the fare Mom usually provided on weekends. Dad was outside working in the yard. Mom shuffled straight to the coffee pot where she managed to pour herself a mug. She spilled a little and, contrary to her usual fussiness, ignored it. Mom didn’t even put cream in her coffee. She set her mug on the table but before sitting down, she changed her mind and shuffled to the sink to get a cloth to wipe up the spilled coffee. As she did, she rubbed her behind with her free hand.

“Eric. Are you sure those bruises are gone? I’m feeling a little sore back there this morning.”

I sprung to my feet and quickly got behind Mom, lifting her robe up.

“Not too far. I haven’t got dressed yet,” Mom cautioned as she slowly wiped the counter.

“Ok Mom,” I replied, my voice betraying the excitement her cautionary note produced, hinting that she wasn’t wearing anything under her robe but possibly a pair of panties. I lifted her robe high anyway so I could see her panties. Luck of luck. I was immediately privy to Mom’s bare ass. True enough, it was a bit flushed, kind of rosy all around the bottom. I couldn’t help smiling as a feeling of immense satisfaction welled up inside me.

“Are they still there?” Mom asked, worried.

“Uh, no. Not really.”

“What do you mean, ‘not really’?” Mom asked. She stopped wiping the counter.

“Well, they’re gone, but...”

“But what?” the level of concern heightened.

“There’s an inflamed area higher up ... on your, uh, bottom.”

“On my bottom?”

“Yeah.”

“What were you doing looking up there?”

“It was an accident. I didn’t mean to pull your robe up, but lucky I did because you have a big red mark on your bum.”

“Where?”

“Here,” I showed Mom by touching the bottom swells of each cheek, tracing my finger around the edges and then letting it rest lightly along the bottom arc of her crack. “Centered all around here,” I said.

“Oh dear,” Mom sighed. “I wonder what that’s from? Put my robe down, Eric. Your father would really wonder about us if he saw you looking at my bare backside.”

“I was just trying to help,” I replied, reluctantly letting Mom’s robe fall.

Mom turned around to face me.

“I know, sweetie,” she said, cupping my face in her hand and stretching up to give me a light kiss on the mouth.

“That’s all the thanks I get?”

Mom stretched up again to give me another hug and kiss. I put my hands on her shoulders and held her there, stretching what was probably meant to be something just a bit longer than a peck into a kiss almost half a minute long.

“Oh, you don’t kiss like a little boy anymore.” Mom seemed surprised.

“Are you saying you don’t want to kiss your own son?”

“No,” Mom seemed flustered. “It’s just that it feels different, that’s all.”

“I should hope so,” I replied.

“Eric, I hope I haven’t given you the wrong impression.”

“What impression?” I was enjoying this awkwardness from my normally in-command mother.

“You know. Asking you to look at my bruises for me. I would have asked your father if we were getting along better.” What she really meant was she didn’t want to encourage him. “I guess I shouldn’t be doing my nails in the living room either.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Well, it shows so much of my legs.”

“You have really nice legs, Mom.” She blushed.

“Well, uh, thank you, but that’s not the point.”

“What’s the point?”

“Oh, I’m not up to this,” exasperation crept into Mom’s voice. “Just don’t get the wrong idea, that’s all.”

“I won’t Mom. I love you and I’m proud of the way you look.” A little flattery couldn’t hurt, especially when it was true and well-deserved, given all her efforts.

I got Mom by herself several times that day and managed to kiss her each time. She seemed flustered each time but didn’t stop me and each one was a little longer than the last.

“You’re just trying to bug me,” she cried, trying to fend me off the third time. “You’re making fun of me now.”

I denied it, but not convincingly. If she wanted to think I was playing a game, that was all right with me. As long as she let me kiss her. The game thing had an added benefit. Mom’s reaction changed from being flustered to being playful which was quite exciting. She was treating me like a playmate instead of her kid. It was a revelation for me. Being with a woman in a playful mood was a whole lot of fun.

I guess I found an excuse to kiss Mom more than several times.

Sunday night, I was in Mom’s ass again. However, after the fun and games of the afternoon, the feigned chases and giggling struggles as soon as Dad left the room, I needed more than Mom’s docile submission.

As I casually pumped my cock in Mom’s ass, Dad scared the shit out of me when he turned over onto his back. I nearly jumped out of my skin and I did pull out of Mom with an audible pop and disappointed moan from Mom. Of course, my eyes and ears, my whole attention, was on my father, so it didn’t take more than a few seconds for one startling observation to filter into my brain.

Dad, who was sleeping naked, was sporting a big boner again, making a tent of the sheet covering him from the waist down. As soon as I was sure he was still sleeping heavily under the influence of the pills, I reached over and pulled the sheet off.

Yup, there it was. Standing proud and free. I laughed out loud. He must really be needing to get back together with Mom. I felt sorry for him and wondered if I could help him out by getting Mom’s mouth or hand onto him again. As I contemplated that, perverse idea number three popped full-fledge into my fun-starved mind—not that what I was doing wasn’t fun, it just wasn’t as fun as it could be.

I lifted Mom up onto her knees, cupping her tits to hold her against me. As before, I twisted her toward Dad but instead of flopping her over Dad, I lifted her left leg and straddled her over his legs. I pushed on Mom’s back and allowed her to fall gently forward onto his chest. Grasping her by the hips, I lifted her right up and, after a few minor adjustments, managed to get her centered on the tip of my father’s hard cock. With boyish mischief, I pulled back on Mom’s hips, watching with devilish joy as my father’s cock first bent, then gathered strength and slid forcefully into Mom’s cunt.

Back in the saddle again, I sang out loud.

Mom was planning on letting Dad back on her good side? Well, I had let him back INSIDE. He would never know the debt he owed me.

Now what to do? Dad was embedded in Mom and, though that was fun, any action was dependent on me moving her hips around which I soon tired of. What to do?

Ahhh, of course. To make room, I pushed Mom’s feet further forward so her knees were beside Dad’s hips and then straddled his legs myself. Fitting tightly behind Mom, I aimed my cock at my favorite target. Carefully, though I was so excited I found this hard to do, I pushed into Mom’s dreamy butt. Once inside, I grabbed Dad’s hands and pulled his arms up and around Mom’s back but they fell limply to the bed as soon as I let go. I shrugged and began to loosen Mom’s ass with slow, steady shoves.

It was odd that Dad was so dead to the world that his arms wouldn’t stay around Mom yet he could produce a hard cock. I guess it took concerted effort to hold onto something but getting and maintaining an erection consumed no brain power, that, or a man’s dick really did have a mind of its own. Maybe Mom reacting to my thrusts was similarly automatic but if Dad couldn’t automatically control his arms, why could Mom’s hand keep wanking Dad? Go figure.

It wasn’t long before I was humping Mom’s butt with a regular beat. It felt quite different this way. In addition to the smug thrill I extracted from using my parents like puppets, I could feel my father’s cock as Mom’s cunt responded to my thrusts, moving back and forth along the length of his shaft. This was fucking incredible. Unbeknownst to my sleep-drugged father, he and I were DPing my doped up mother. Fanfuckingtastic! I was definitely going to do this again.

The next few weeks were a blur of fucking Mom—a mix of doggy, ass fucking and a couple more DPs—and thinking about it all day while working at my crappy summer job. Except two more times where Mom must have mistakenly dissolved a sleeping pill in my hot chocolate. I woke up feeling very weary both times. I don’t know why people take sleeping pills. They may make you sleep but you don’t feel rested, that’s for sure.

Dad was getting more and more antsy and it wasn’t helped by Mom doing her nails at least twice a week. She continued to swivel her legs up onto the couch, opened my way, and seemed to stroke the underside of her thighs more erotically than before. Maybe my kissing was paying off. Maybe she liked it and she was rewarding me. Her eyes never made contact with mine when she did this but I’m certain she was aware of my rapt attention. She got it especially hard and more than once a night when she did that.

It was the end of the week, Friday night, that Mom said she’d made a special pie for me. In the kitchen, she handed me a large glass of iced tea and a huge slice of cake.

“Take that out to your father, I want to talk to you undisturbed.”

I did as Mom asked and quickly returned. There were two plates of warm apple pie covered in French Vanilla ice cream, my favorite, on the counter beside Mom. I started to sit down at the table near the doorway but Mom beckoned.

“Come over here,” she waved.

I joined her and took the plate she handed me. Strangely, she didn’t speak. We ate our treat in silence. At first I was uncomfortable because Mom kept gazing at me. Had she realized the boxers on her bedroom floor were mine? Is that what she wanted to talk to me about?

Mom maintained her silence and my unease passed as I realized that her look contained no anger but was more soft and loving than usual. Ridiculously, I began to swell in my pants and my nervousness returned. I couldn’t cover myself. I turned away, then realized that would profile my bulge so I turned back to face her.

I finished first but Mom kept her silence, seeming to put each spoonful into her mouth more slowly, if anything. Her motions seemed more than sensual, almost sexual. Something about the way she paused with the spoon just inside her mouth, sliding her tongue slowly underneath and sucking the pie and ice cream in. When she finished she put her plate down very deliberately.

“I’m going to bring your father back into the fold tomorrow.”

My heart, and more, sank. “Really? Already?” was all I could muster.

“Yes. I think he’s suffered enough.” Mom’s eyes searched mine.

“You don’t seem overly happy,” Mom observed. “Are you angry at him too?”

“I guess so,” I mumbled. No, I wanted to shout. How am I going to keep fucking you if you’re not taking sleeping pills? This was an unmitigated disaster. One I knew was coming but now that it was here, I was totally unprepared to handle it.

“Oh, sweetie.”

Mom stretched up to kiss my cheek, then, I guess figuring that wasn’t sufficient comfort, brushed her lips on mine and then kissed me.

“Everyone makes mistakes, honey. It’s time to forgive your father.”

She kissed me again, and when I remained silent, followed with a succession of small kisses, each longer and more firmly planted than the last.

“Do you forgive him?”

“I guess so.” I shuffled my feet.

“I know I’ve leaned on you this summer. I guess I needed you to fill some of the void, but I’ll still love you just as much.”

Mom had no idea how much I had filled her void. I smiled at the thought which Mom took as agreement on my part.

“That’s my boy,” she smiled, then planted a big kiss on my lips. I kissed her back and put my arms around her, managing to brush the sides of her tits as I did.

When she settled back on her feet, Mom beamed up at me.

“I know you like to kiss me like a grownup, sweetie. I’ll let you do it more often if that makes you feel better,” her eyes questioned mine.

I nodded and a pleased smile spread across my face.

“You’d like that?”

I nodded more vigorously.

“Give me a big kiss then.”

Mom’s arms slipped around my neck and she pushed herself up onto her toes. I squeezed her to me, mashing her tits against my chest. I relaxed when I realized she was going to make this a long one and was surprised when the tip of her tongue slid sideways across my closed lips. I did the same to hers, then tentatively, even fearfully, I tried to push between her lips. Mom didn’t let me in but her hand slid up to the back of my neck and her fingers toyed with my hair, then pressed me closer. I slid my tongue across her lips again and tried again to enter her mouth. Briefly, for just an instant, Mom’s lips parted and my tongue slipped into her mouth, then Mom broke the kiss. I was breathing hard. She pulled away, a satisfied smile adorning her face, glanced quickly down and then took my hands into hers. I realized then my cock was very hard.

“Would you like to check my legs for bruises on a regular basis?”

“Yeah, Mom. I’d really like that.” My eyes trailed slowly down her body. Mom dropped my hands and pulled her skirt up half a foot. Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

“All right then,” she said, dropping her skirt. “I’ll go tell your father the good news.”

“Mom, wait.”

“What?”

“Why don’t you tell him tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow? Why?”

“It’s Saturday.”

“What’s so special about Saturday.”

“Saturday night is for ... romance. Anyway, you might want to have more time to make it extra special, maybe get a new nightie or something.”

“Oh, sweetie. That’s so romantic. One day you’re going to make some woman, another woman, very happy.”

“I just want you to be happy, Mom.” Yeah, and I wanted one last chance to make her especially happy.

Mom gave me a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll give you a nice big kiss later,” she promised. She turned to leave.

“Mom?”

She turned back to face me, half way to the door, wearing a quizzical expression.

“Why don’t you save that kiss for tomorrow,” I suggested in a lowered voice. “You guys should take sleeping pills tonight. It would make tomorrow less special if something happened tonight.”

“Ok, dear. That’s a good idea.”

“You still have some don’t you?” I couldn’t keep the worry out of my voice.

Mom smiled, an especially pleased smile. “Don’t worry. I have enough for one last heavy sleep.”

Mom bounced out of the kitchen. I stayed, thinking about what had just happened and what I wanted to do most tonight, probably the last time I would get my mom.

She returned a minute later with Dad’s empty plate and his glass which was half full. She seemed annoyed.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“Your father’s being difficult. He doesn’t want to take the pills. I won’t get any rest tonight.”

Shit. The thought of not getting Mom one last time was enough to make me want to shove the pill down Dad’s throat. I looked at the pills Mom had thrown on the counter beside the empty plates and the half-full glass of ice tea.

“Marina,” Dad’s voice intruded in the tense kitchen air, “I wasn’t finished my drink.”

Mom looked at me. “Can you take it to him? I need to settle down.”

I picked up the pills.

“No, don’t say anything to him. You know how stubborn he is. He’ll just get mad at you.”

I smiled. “I won’t,” I said. I passed my hand over Dad’s drink and dropped the pills. I looked at Mom as she watched the pills slowly spiral down, fizzing as they settled to the bottom of the glass.

“Babe. Can I have my drink back?” Dad yelled.

“Just a minute. I’ll be right there,” Mom called back. She opened the cutlery drawer and pulled out a spoon. The mischievous smile returned and she looked in my eyes as she began stirring Dad’s ice tea. “I’ll take it in to him,” she said.