Chapter 2

After all that sucking and fucking, Millie anticipated that she'd focus on her hung brother's big cock spurting up her cunt and down her throat until the next time they got it on. However, something else wound up sticking out in her mind.

Millie now recalled having said something to the effect that no normal female could pass on any guy who lusted after her enough to steal her panties. And remembered how Gary had sounded really surprised to hear this. Enough so that, at the time, Millie had jokingly asked if she was giving him any ideas about trying it with somebody else. Next, just like that, he'd stopped talking.

"Maybe Gary hadn't been taking just my panties," she said aloud.

The thought of it immediately consumed her with curiosity. Millie simply could not resist following up on it and there was no more logical place to begin than by following the sound of the vacuum cleaner right into the living room.

"Mom," she called, "could I ask you something for a sec?"

Glad to have an excuse to take a break from cleaning house, Betsy Underwood shut off the vacuum and answered her daughter. "Sure, hon, what's on your mind?"

"Well, it's kinda personal, Mom," Millie said. "Hope you've got enough time for some girl-to-girl talk."

They'd always had a good relationship, so Betsy Underwood sympathetically assured her daughter that she was there to listen. So what was it, she asked, boyfriend trouble or something?

"Uh, not exactly, Mom," Millie replied. "Actually, I meant something that's as personal for you as it is for me. Don't know just how I ought to say this, but... have you noticed any of your panties missing lately, Mom?"

Betsy Underwood gave a long pause. "So that's what's been happening to them. Really, Millie, if you'd just asked me in the first place I'd have been glad to buy you all the pairs you need, or even loan you whatever you liked of mine. You didn't need to sneak around over something like that."

"No, you don't understand. I'm not the one who's been stealing them," Millie said, correcting her mother's mistaken impression. "See, why I ask is that some of my panties have been missing, too."

Betsy Underwood's jaw dropped. "You're kidding! Who do you think?"

"There's only one way to find out," Millie said. "Do you have any dirty panties, Mom?"

"Half a dozen pairs," Betsy gulped. "I forgot to put them in the laundry basket when you did the wash yesterday."

"Perfect," declared Millie. "We can bait the trap right away. What do you say, Mom?"

"To tell you the truth, I don't think I really want to know who's doing this. Losing a few panties is nothing compared to what might happen if we actually caught whoever it is. It's too dangerous."

"If you say so," Millie sighed after a long pause. "If we don't do anything, maybe it'll just stop on its own."

"Let's hope so," Betsy Underwood whispered, then abruptly turned the vacuum cleaner back on and returned to her housework with a faraway expression on her face.

Millie shrugged and drifted away. Then she went to her room and got an armload of books as if she intended to return them to the library. On her way out of the house she waved goodbye but received no response from her glassy-eyed mother. Then, outside, she looked up the street and saw that her timing was perfect.

"Hey, Sis, where're you goin'?" her brother called as he rode up on his bike.

Obviously, thought Millie with amusement, he wanted to fuck her again. The bulge at his crotch was positively adorable.

"Sorry, kiddo, not today. Mom's home and these books are overdue so I'll catch you later." Gary frowned with disappointment and wheeled his bike toward the garage, sure he'd struck out for the time being. His supposedly departing sister, however, was privately not so ready to write off his chances for a hot fuck.

When she'd originally asked about the panties, Millie hadn't intended to set things up this way. However, once she'd seen her mother's reaction she'd automatically known what to do. It wasn't anything her mom had said so much as the look in her eyes when she'd heard about the panty-thief.

"She wants something to happen," Millie said aloud, more sure than ever that she was right. "And if I'm right, today is it."

So it wasn't to the library that Millie went, but around the other side of the house so she wouldn't be seen from the basement that served as the laundry room. After letting herself in through the door that opened onto the back yard, she quickly darted into the darkness beyond the washing machine and waited. It didn't take long.

"I must be crazy to do this," Betsy Underwood muttered to herself as she nudged herself down the stairs, clutching her soiled panties.

She reached the washing machine and almost tenderly put the panties on the top. Then she decided to add the ones she was wearing, slipping them off from under her skirt and briefly inspecting the fresh stain at their crotch.

"Mmmm, I'm so wet," she sighed, rubbing her pussy under her clothes with one hand and sniffing her most recently worn panties before putting them on the pile.

"Just like I thought," an excited Millie whispered to herself as she watched from her hiding place. "Mom wants to catch the panty-thief all by herself."

Then Millie saw her mother turn on the empty machine like it was washing a load of laundry, while the dirty panties remained temptingly on top. After that her mother also slipped into the darkness, hiding on the other side of the basement from Millie.

Now mother and daughter both waited in suspense. This time he came in through the door from the back yard, cautiously pushing it ajar.

"Anybody here?" he nervously called.

When there was no answer, he slipped inside. His eyes lit up when he saw all those panties to choose from. He pawed through them with one hand, sniffing each pair to find out which was dirtiest, while massaging the enormous bulge at the crotch of his tight jeans with his other hand.

"Mmmmm, choice stuff," he hungrily slurped. "Can smell mom's piss and shit on these. She must've been in too much of a hurry to wipe herself when she was wearing them. Mmmm, the dirty bitch, I love it. Bet I'll pump a pint of cream in these raunchy babies."

It turned him on too much to wait to get back to the privacy of his room. Pulling out his rigid cock, Gary wrapped his mother's stained panties around it and began beating his meat with frantic strokes.

"Oh, mom," he moaned, with the same brand of lust which made his voice crack when he'd jacked off with his sister Millie's panties, "Just wish that your hairy cunt was where I'm gonna shoot my wad, 'stead of only in your

panties. God, I'd love to fuck the same hairy pussy that squeezed me out into the world in the first place..."

"Then," came a voice from the darkness, "there's nothing stopping you."

Then she appeared and Gary Underwood couldn't believe his eyes. She was stark naked, with a hunger in her eyes that hypnotized him from all the way across the dimly lit basement.

"M-mom!" he choked, his panty-wrapped hand freezing midway around his jutting prick.

"Go ahead, finish what you've started," Betsy Underwood calmly told her awe-struck son. "It'll probably relax you to come before you get down to the real thing. After all, every woman knows that you young boys always have more fresh cum to shoot and a new hard-on."

"Jeez, Mom!"

"Too shy to jack off in front of mommy?" Betsy Underwood chuckled, closing the distance between them.

Gary nodded, his face ashen. Indeed, it seemed as if his entire supply of blood were trapped in his beet-red cock alone.

"Then maybe mommy'd better give you an, ummm, hand," Betsy gently teased, kneeling before him. "Goodness, if you can't get used to a simple hand-job in front of me, how will you ever be able to... uh, really give me what I want from your beautiful, young cock?"

She brushed Gary's arm away and supplied her own firm grip around his pulsating hardon. Her strokes were bold and confident, as if jerking off hung young boys were one of her erotic specialties.

"I've done this a thousand times in my mind," Betsy said to her gasping son. "Ever since I first peeked in through your door and saw you doing it to yourself. But if I'd known you were doing it with my stolen panties, I'd have come out in the open a long time before now."

"I-I turn you on, Mom?" gulped Gary.

"Every mother's son does that when he gets past a certain age, Sonny Boy," Betsy said. "Just that not many of us moms have the right things happen with our darling boys to get us over the line."

She had turned herself on to such an extreme with her steamy talk that Betsy could no longer be satisfied to merely stroke her son's hard-on. She just had to suck it. If Gary was going to come, Betsy was now determined it would be in her mouth. She wanted to drink every drop of his precious, teenaged jism.