Chapter 5

"Don't you see, darling?" Joyce explained to her frowning husband. "I have to do it."

Ralph Porter began an angry protest, but halted it with a long sigh. His broad shoulders slumped and he sat down heavily on the bed, watching his wife check her reflection in the dresser mirror.

"I'm beginning to wonder," he said dejectedly, "if we shouldn't have stayed at home."

Joyce turned, giving him a wet-lipped smile, happy at what she had just seen in the glass. Whatever else Ted's erotic demands had accomplished, they had stripped years from her appearance.

"Let's not start arguing again," she urged. "You'll have to admit that you enjoyed yourself last night."

He nodded dully, lacing his fingers about one knee. "That was last night," he reminded her. "Today, I have an emotional hangover." His mouth twisted. "We were like animals!"

She leaned over and kissed his forehead, twisting away as he reached for her magnificent breasts, their resilient mounds bouncing behind the almost-transparent dress.

"Silly!" she smiled. "We are animals! Now, you stop fretting. Go for a walk or something."

"Sure!" he grunted. "Walk and think about what he's doing to you. My God! After last night, I don't see how he can even think about sex!"

She walked to the door, buttocks undulating with more freedom that he had ever witnessed in those firm cheeks. Turning, she said, "Just think about the security we have here, darling. Ted's already told you we can buy anything within reason and simply charge it to him."

He waited until the door closed behind her before murmuring, "Just how much is a guy supposed to charge for letting another man screw his wife?"

Down the hallway, in his own bedroom, Ted Morgan faced a bewildered Clyde Porter, smiling at the lad's confused expression from the comfort of a deep chair.

"I'll say it again, Clyde," Ted said with exaggerated patience. "How would you like to screw Aunt Joyce?"

Clyde's fingers ran nervously through his blond hair. "You've gotta be putting me on!" he exclaimed, shifting his feet on the expensive carpet. "She's my Mother!"

Ted's wide shoulders shrugged expressively. "Lots of guys poke their old ladies. Hell! What's wrong with it?"

"Christ!" his companion said forcefully. "I couldn't do a thing like that."

His head snapped about as a gentle knock sounded, and Ted called, "Come in, Aunt Joyce."

Joyce Porter entered the room, her eyes widening as she saw her son. Then, the long lashes swept down to hide her expression. She looked at the grinning Ted.

"I can come back," she said hesitatingly. "I didn't know..."

Ted waved a hand to halt her words, and told her, "Just lock the door." Then, as she turned to twist the latch, Ted added, "I think you'd better explain to Clyde about the house rules."

Joyce looked back and forth at the two boys, chewing gently on her full lower lip. She took a step toward her son, then halted.

"Darling," she said in a soft voice. "I'm sure you remember how happy your Father was when Ted offered us a home here."

Clyde nodded, one brow lifting questioningly "Sure," he answered. "We were getting pretty tight."

"Then," his Mother continued, "you know how important it is that we do whatever is required to make our situation permanent."

The boy looked at Ted, then back at Joyce. "Sure," he grunted. "We talked about that."

Joyce nodded. "Then you'll understand why I'm asking you to do whatever Ted tells you. Is that clear?"

Again the quick glance at Ted. "Yeah," he murmured. "If you say so."

Joyce drew in a deep breath. "Is that what you wanted, Ted?"

The lad inclined his head, running his eyes up and down Clyde's slender body. His voice was almost inaudible as he said, "Take your clothes of, Clyde. All of them."

The boy's mouth opened, and his brows shaped a frown of disbelief. Still looking at Ted, he said to Joyce, "Is this some kind of joke?"

He anticipated the slow shaking of her head. Ever since their arrival, he had sensed the alteration in his Mother's personality, and he had noticed the bold stares of his cousin. At first, he refused to entertain the possibility that she was actually putting out for Ted. Then, he became aware of a certain confidence in her attitude.

"What does Dad think about all this?" was his whispered question.

"Your Father has agreed to do whatever is necessary."

Clyde's hands rose to his shirt front, hovering over the buttons, his stare examining Ted's eyes. "Suppose I get undressed," he demanded. "What happens then?"

Ted's lips curved expressively. "What difference does it make? Don't tell me you've never made it with another guy!"

The youth's face flamed. "I'm not a damned queer!"

"Relax, stud!" Ted chuckled. "Nobody's trying to whack your balls off. Just get out of those fucking rags!"

Again, Clyde's eyes swept his Mother's features, gauging her reaction to the four-letter words. She showed no emotion other than a little throbbing of her throat, just below her graceful jawline.

"OK," he murmured resignedly. "But I feel like a damned idiot." He unbuttoned the shirt and shrugged it off, baring a powerful chest with just a sprinkling of blond hair.

Kicking off the loose-fitting sandals, he forced his slacks down to expose the curls of his pubic hair, and the flaccid rope of his cock, its meaty knob drooping over his promising young testicles. Stepping out of the slacks, he straightened, blushing as he found Joyce's stare focused on his prick.

"My God!" she whispered. "It's bigger than Ralph's!"

Ted stood up, shedding his clothes with a careless ease that held both Joyce and Clyde almost motionless in attention. When he was naked, Ted sat down again, grinning at his cousin's bashful glances of comparison.

"There's a portable phonograph on the dresser, Aunt Joyce," he told the woman. "Go over and start it. Then, I want you to strip to the music."

"Jesus!" Clyde exclaimed. "Are you really gonna do that Mom?"

When Joyce did not answer, Ted said, "Your Mother will do anything I say, Clyde. So will you, if you know what's good for you."

His shoulders rose and fell. "OK, so you've got us on a string, big man. What am I supposed to do?"

"Lie down on the rug," Ted grinned, "and watch. Aunt Joyce will be moving all around you, so I want you to masturbate while she does her dance."

"You're full of shit!" Clyde exploded. "It's bad enough that I have to watch you put my Mother through all this crap! I'll be damned if I'll jerk off for you."

Joyce was at the phonograph, her back to the two boys. "Just do as Ted says, Clyde!" she exclaimed without turning. "Pretend I'm someone else."

His face livid, the boy lowered himself to the thick carpet, leaning back on his elbows and glaring at Ted. His cousin pointed emphatically.

"Let's see a little action, Clyde! Get that thing hard!"

Blushing again, the youth's hand crawled down over his flat belly to cup his genitals, his fingers finally curling about the limp roll of his cock just as the music swelled from the record player.

"The object of your striptease, Aunt Joyce," Ted reminded the woman, is Clyde. Tease him, and get him really hot!"

The music was a sensual rhythm, slow and accentuated by a throbbing bass that Joyce accompanied by a savage jerk of her lush hips, each one transmitting its force upward and jiggling her prominent breasts. Slowly, adding a grinding motion to her pelvic gyrations, she moved toward her wide-eyed son staring down at his penis and licking her lips in a parody of lust.

"Christ!" Clyde whispered fiercely. His prick was stiffening in his grip, and his gaze flicked down at the swelling column as if surprised by his reaction. When his Mother shrugged her dress down over one shoulder to free the quivering mound of her left tit, his fist began moving up and down the turgid length of his tool, and his shoulders shivered with mounting excitement.

Joyce's movements were awkward, but the undulation of her magnificent body made grace unnecessary. By the time she rolled the dress down to expose both tits, Clyde was pounding his meat with a steady pumping that tugged his balls upward with each pull on the engorged shaft. He stared hungrily at the lush mounds with their distended nipples thrusting out from the brown aureoles like pointing fingers.

Joyce worked her hips in a savage grinding as she slid the dress downward over her rounded belly, baring the blonde curls of her thick bush and the beauty of her exquisitely curved thighs. Clyde gave a little groan at his first sight of her inviting cunt, and his prick emitted a glob of jizm when she stepped out of the dress, the motion parting her thighs and revealing the deep red slash of her pussy.

"Straddle him, Aunt Joyce!" Ted exclaimed. "Give him a good view of that gash!"

Still working her hips in rhythm With the beat of the record, Joyce stepped one foot across Clyde's thighs, spreading her legs far apart and continuing that pelvic thrusting with each throb of the bass beat. The lips of her exposed pussy slid back and forth, one against the other, as she twisted her hips fluidly, her breasts rolling and quivering with the erotic hunches.

Clyde's body was jerking between his Mother's feet, his heels digging into the rug, and his ass pushing up to augment the pleasure of his pounding fist. More of the clear pre-come had oozed from the slitted knob of his prick, and the head was wet and slippery as he capped and uncapped its purple swelling with his steady frigging.

"Christ, Mom!" the boy panted, his face working with the increasing pleasure of his masturbatory caress. "I'm about to come!"

Joyce bent her knees, to permit a more savage writhing of her busy hips. Her thighs spread farther apart, and the lips of her cunt opened to reveal the juicy vaginal entrance, the soft folds glistening and quivering with her pelvic thrusts. She splayed her fingers over the swaying mounds of her big tits, letting the erect nipples poke spongy tips between them.

"It's all right, baby!" she crooned, staring down at her son's rearing cockhead, and the furious action of his encircling fist. "Just pretend you're shooting it right in here!" She slammed her hips forward to shove her wet pussy into greater prominence.

Ted had risen from his chair, his own cock fully hard with excitement, and he moved to a position just behind the woman's gyrating ass. Stepping astride the boy's legs, he bent to fit his huge prick between Joyce's thighs.

"Watch this, Clyde!" he exclaimed, pressing the head of his cock into her labial groove, nuzzling the shivering lips with the purple glans. "Like your Mother says, pretend this is your dick!"

Effortlessly, his hips eased forward, and the cock slid up into Joyce's pussy, stretching the slippery entrance into a taut circle with its girth. The woman's body jerked at the sudden entrance, but her ass continued its delightful grinding, screwing her eager cunt onto the thick shaft of Ted's prick.

Clyde stared in helpless fascination as his cousin's phallic spear slowly disappeared inside the straining circle, only to reappear with its sides coated and slick with the woman's vaginal juices. He found that his hand, fingers wrapped tightly about his own throbbing pole, was matching the strokes of that other cock.

As Ted drove his prick into Joyce's slit, Clyde's fist tugged the loose overcoat of skin down his strutted member, exposing the engorged knob. Then, as the other tool drew its thick bulk out of the slippery sheath, CIyde's hand moved upward to cap the head of his fuckpole.

His prick securely lodged in Joyce's responsive quim, Ted wrapped both arms about her and cupped her tits with his big hands, kneading them as he stroked in and out, his belly slapping rhythmically against her writhing ass. Over her shoulder, he grinned at the youth.

"You ought to try this pussy, Clyde!" he said jerkily. "She really knows how to use it!"

"Son of a bitch!" was the panted reply. Clyde's fist moved faster, and his hips leaped upward, trembling and heaving. His come spurted high in the air, splashing Ted's balls and the well- stretched lips of his Mother's snatch. The second volley splattered against her trembling thigh, trickling sluggishly downward as Ted continued his deep thrusts, making her legs shake with the repeated fillings of her eager cunt.

The weaker spurts arced above the boy's cock and fell back onto his heaving belly, puddling in his deep-set navel and clinging to the light growth of hair that extended upward from his spitting prick. With a groan, Clyde lay back on the carpet, his arms falling to either side of his naked body, his tool still dribbling a trace of his violent orgasm from its lust-widened slit.

"Now, look what you've done, Aunt Joyce!" Ted murmured in the woman's ear. "You'll have to clean it up, you know."

"How?" was the hesitant response. Joyce was on the verge of orgasm, and her ass bucked lustily to aid the powerful thrusts of Ted's cock. She gasped a startled protest when the huge prong tugged itself from the eager jaws of her slavering cunt.

"Mop it up with your muff," Ted chuckled. "Just don't let him stick that poker in you. You can rub him off, if you want to. But don't let him put it in."

Clyde groaned as his Mother lowered that juicy cleft over his still-erect prick, dropping to her knees astride his hips, and resting her hands, palms-down, on his chest. She looked directly into his widened eyes as she dragged her dripping cunt lips upward from the base of his cock to the slippery knob. He gave a convulsive shudder, and his hands flashed to her waist, trying to guide her hips backward and affect an entry with his swollen joint