Emily again. I told you about how I met Paul and Sara in "Hot Tub Service Girl" and how I met their son Jeff in "Hot Tub and Whipped Cream." Well, if that wasn't wild enough, things got even more interesting later that summer.
I had to laugh ... when I was in high school, all the girls in the shower used to call me "No-boobs" and brag about the great sex they were getting from the guys, while I was getting zilch. Things didn't much change in college. My tits weren't really any bigger, and even though the girls didn't give me as much grief about them, you could tell they were still proud of their bigger boobs. And they still bragged about their lovers, even though a lot of them would bitch about them and how clueless they seemed to be. If they had known that old No-boobs was getting more cock than any of them, from not one but two gorgeous guys (and quite a bit of pussy on the side), they'd have shit themselves.
We'd settled down to a routine, when I would be sleeping with Jeff half the time and with Paul and Sara the other half. There never seemed to be any jealousy among us. In fact, Jeff seemed to fit right into our lifestyle of household nudity and flirting. If he ever had any qualms about seeing his parents in the buff, they were gone by the time a week had passed. We tried to keep our hands off each other when the 'rents were around, and pretty much succeeded, although I noticed that Jeff's dick never really got soft when we girls were around. (But that, too, was "like father, like son.") Everybody seemed happy with the arrangement. But in August, all that changed.
Jeff and Paul were both out of town. Jeff had gone back to New Jersey to spend some time with his old classmates before he moved out west for graduate work at Stanford. He invited me along, but that meant that I would have had to cut a Friday class I couldn't afford to miss. So I tucked a dirty pair of my panties into his bag ("So you won't forget me," I said with a wink) and sent him off alone. And Paul went to attend some sort of daylong seminar in another city that wouldn't be over until six, and he still had a two-hour drive to get back home.
So that left Sara and me. I got home from tennis practice at around two that Saturday afternoon. I'd showered at the gym, but still wanted to get some soak time in the tub. And to tell you the truth, I was getting horny and wanted to jill off there. So as soon as I got home, I was naked and in the tub.
After giving my titties a blast from the jet, I did my favorite trick of positioning my pussy right over the jet, and opening and closing my lips to vary the pressure. I was getting pretty aroused when I heard the door to the tub room open. I looked around. It was Sara, so I just resumed what I was doing. She slipped off her robe and got into the tub. Standing behind me, she started stroking my little boobs and pinching my nipples as I let the water jet give my clit some pleasuring. It was a curious reversal of our first experience in the tub, when it was her with her clit on the jet and me behind her, lifting and kneading her tits while grinding my own nipples into her back. I leaned back against her and let the orgasm sweep over me, a soft round one that left me momentarily satisfied. I turned around, gave her a hug, and put my own hand on her mons.
"Not now, dear. I just want to sit and soak for a while."
So we sat and soaked, but it was obvious that there was something eating at her. After a while, I decided that the direct approach was best.
"Sara," I said. "What's bothering you? When we were fucking last night, you weren't really getting into it like you usually do. And this morning you hardly said anything. That's not you."
"No, it's not," she confessed. "I've got something on my mind, that's all."
"Care to share it with me?"
"I'm not sure, dear. It's very personal, and I'm not sure how you'd take it. Nothing directly about you, though."
"Sara, you're my best friend, and more than my friend. You can tell me anything."
She looked at me for a long moment and then said, "You're right. I should. But hear me out, and give me a little time. I'm still trying to figure it out myself."
She was quiet for a while. I could see the tension in her face, so I moved and sat next to her in the tub, and put one hand on her shoulder, and my other hand on her knee, not to caress but to comfort. She began to relax, and then she continued.
"Emily, I've been having fantasies. When I've been making love to Paul, I can't get off anymore unless I imagine he's somebody else."
"Sara, that's normal. Everybody does it. What's wrong with that?"
"I know that it's normal. What's not normal is who I'm thinking about."
"Emily, I'm a good mother. I've always tried to be a good mother."
"Sara, what are you saying?" And then it hit me. "Are you telling me that it's Jeff you're fantasizing about?"
She nodded bleakly.
"Have you told Paul about it?"
"As a matter of fact, I have. He tells me it's no big deal. In fact, he says he's done it himself sometimes. Not with Jeff, or course, but with somebody else."
"Did he say who he was thinking of?"
"Yes. He said Elly." Elly was a houseguest they'd had some years before. "And he said Jessie."
"Wow," I said. "When did all that start? I mean with Jessie."
"It started just after she went away to college, when he started having those fantasies about her."
"Did it bother you?"
"Well, no, not really. I mean, we just incorporated it into our love life. I'd pretend to be her, I'd say, "Fuck me, Daddy," and it would really get him off."
"So what's the problem? Paul can't very well hold it against you if he did the same thing himself."
"Emily, I know that. The problem is that, well, for me it's more intense. I've been seeing Jeff nude for the past couple of months, and it's really getting to me. I look at that beautiful cock of his and wonder what it would feel like in my hand, and in my pussy. I flirt with him. Sometimes, he flirts back and I don't know if he's serious or if he's just playing the game. I don't even know how serious I am myself. I don't know what to think!"
She looked like she was getting ready to cry, so I just held her for a minute as I collected my own thoughts. Gradually, she calmed down, and I started to speak to her.
"Sara, I can't thank you enough for sharing this with me. I am so honored by your trust, I don't have words. First of all, I don't think you're a bad mother. Jeff is a grown man now, and he is a splendid man because you've been a splendid mother."
"Thanks for saying that. And I'm sorry I didn't speak to you earlier about this thing I've started to have for Jeff. You deserve to know, particularly since you have some strong feelings for Jeff, too. Would you mind me asking how strong those feelings are right now?"
"You've been honest with me, so I'll be honest with you. Frankly, I'm not sure. I mean, we've only known each other for a couple of months. We've never been through anything that's tested our relationship, although that may be coming up. But I think I'm falling deeply, seriously in love with him. I love you and Paul, too, but in a different way. Let me put it this way: if he asked me to marry him tomorrow, I don't think I'd say 'No.' But I hope he doesn't ask me."
"Because I want to finish school, and get at least my Master's in Engineering. I have plans for my life, and I can't see just pulling up stakes and moving to California with him. So there's going to be a lot of separation once he goes to grad school. That's what I meant when I talked about things testing our relationship."
"Honey, if I know Jeff, he'd never ask you to throw your life away for him. He'd wait for you."
"I hope so. But I want to tell you something else, too. I don't feel like I have any sole claim to Jeff. We haven't known each other that long. Let me say that if you want to screw him, I won't stand in your way." We sat in silence, holding each other.
"Emily, what do I do about Paul? I can't just come out and say 'Paul, I want to make love to your son.' But I can't continue this way, either."
"Would you mind if I talked to him about it? Maybe I can sound him out a little, see how he thinks about it."
"Do you think that will help?"
"I don't know. You'll have to trust me. Trust us."
"Emily, I trust you. I love you, and I trust you." And she hugged me again, this time with a little passion to go with the affection. It was as if the cloud had passed, the chill was gone, and the sun was shining again. I gave her a full-mouth kiss, and she gave it back to me. My libido was rising, and soon hers was, too.
We ended up in the bedroom with our lips on our lips -- and I mean ALL our lips, not the ones on our faces. I also gave her the nipple treatment she loved so much, sucking them down into my throat and biting them until she was pleading with me to finish her off. Which I did by giving her three fingers, with the middle one right on her G-spot. I knew just how to tease her by now, waiting for the little climax, and then fanning that flame, riding that wave like a surfer, always just a little ahead of her own crest. Then she came with a gush of juice and the little scream that I had come to know so well. After that, she did the same to me. She knew that when I wanted finger-fucking, I wanted it rough, and she obliged me, much rougher than she herself wanted. It took me a long time to convince her how rough I liked it, but it was all worth it in the end. Boy, was it. I came like an express train. She'd even gotten me to squirt a little, which was a new sensation for me. That was my second orgasm of the day.
The third came after dinner, when Paul got home. He'd gotten dinner along the way, and hit the shower as soon as he arrived. Then he escorted us ladies up to the bedroom. He was horny as hell, and Sara gave him a quick tit-fuck to burn off his lust. Boy, did I envy her. I'm usually happy with my booblets, but if I ever wanted bigger boobs, that's what I'd want them for. I licked his cum up, and then gave Sara a taste of it as Paul got down to business at her crotch. His educated tongue danced around her clit as I played with her breasts; she loved that, and soon she was putty in our hands. When I grabbed hard on her nipples and pulled straight up, it sent her up like a rocket. Paul by then had recharged, and I needed some cock more than I needed foreplay, so I just opened my legs and let him charge in. He really must have been horny, because he didn't get in more than a couple of minutes of thrusting before he shot his second load. But I was horny, too, and the feel of his dick spasming in me was enough to trigger my own orgasm. I squeezed his cock with my cunt as it softened and gradually slipped out of me.
After that, we all sort of nodded off, but I couldn't sleep. I got up, and went down to the hot tub to soak. I'd been there only a few minutes, letting Paul's cum seep out of me into the swirling water, when Paul himself appeared. I waved him in.
"Why aren't you asleep?" I asked. "Usually two quick orgasms in a row are enough to knock you out!"
"Hell if I know," he said as he slid in next to me. "I just can't sleep. I drank a lot of coffee at dinner so I wouldn't get tired on the drive back, and I'm paying for it now, I guess."
"Well, relax. There's something we have to talk about, anyway."
He looked at me. "Is there something you're unhappy about? Something with you and Jeff?"
"No, it isn't with me, and it isn't with Jeff. It's with Sara. Paul, I know what's going on with her fantasies about Jeff. She told me."
"I sort of figured she would. What did you tell her?"
"I told her that fantasies were normal, even fantasies about parents and children. She said that you'd had fantasies about Jessie, too."
"Yeah, I did. I felt strange about them, because I knew that Jess didn't have those feelings for me, and even if she did, well, she's my daughter, after all."
"When did those fantasies start?"
I can tell you, right down to the day. When Jessie was a freshman, she brought a boyfriend home with her for Easter break. We let them sleep together in her room, since she was an adult and we knew they were sleeping together anyway. Well, we could hear their bed creaking all the way to our bedroom, and Sara said something to me like 'It sounds like she's really giving him a workout.' And I said something like, 'That's right, ' but I think that was the first time I saw her as a sex object ... something more than a daughter, but a woman with a real sex life."
"And do you still have them?"
"No, not any more."
"When did they stop?"
He gave me a level look. "When you moved in."
That sure gave me pause. "So ... when you were fucking somebody the same age as your daughter, who could replace her in your sex life..."
"Yeah. I guess that's it. You were my fantasy come to life."
"So you see Sara's problem."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Well, unless Sara can get some hot young stud to make her fantasies come true, she's not going to get the kind of release you had."
"What are you suggesting? That Sara actually ... but how do you feel about that? Jeff's your guy."
"I talked to her about that. I love Jeff, but I haven't known him long enough to feel that I have any claim on him. Besides, you've had him longer. All his life, in fact."
"So you wouldn't have a problem with it?"
"No. I wouldn't. The question is: do you have a problem with it?"
"I don't know. I don't know. I haven't thought about it. I've shared Sara with other women, but never with another man. Let alone my own son! But I have another question: what about Jeff's feelings about all this?"
"I'm as much in the dark about that as you, Paul. I mean, he's a guy, and Sara's a hot woman. I know he enjoys seeing her naked, and she gets him hard. If he knew that you and I were down with it, there's a real chance. But it's his decision."
"Let me think about it. I want Sara to be happy. I really do."
"Then do what it takes to make her happy. You don't have to answer right away, but keep it in mind, OK?"
He nodded. We got up and hugged and kissed, but it went no further, because I'd given Sara my word that I would be amorous with Paul only when she was around. We got up, used the bathroom, and slipped into bed with Sara, who was sound asleep.
I went to my Sunday tennis practice the next day. Usually, Sara goes to the gym on practice days, too, for an hour-long workout. So she arrives later than I do, and we meet in the showers and go home from there. When I got off the court after my usual three hours, I looked for her. She wasn't there. I got worried. She hadn't shown up at all, the girl in the towel room said.
When I got home, I found out why. Paul and Sara had chosen a different form of workout, and they were both in a state of post-coital bliss when I found them in the living room. Sara's chest was flushed from neck to crotch, and Paul had the dreamy look on his face that told the world that he'd gotten his rocks off. I could smell the sex on them, I realized with a smile.