Incest/Taboo Staying on the Farm With Mom

Ma pulled away from the scope and lowered her head into the pillow to align her back with the angle of my sinking cock which seemed to ease my entry. I was all the way in, my inner thighs contacting Ma's flanks and my balls dangling onto the back of her pussy. I hovered over Ma, not moving, enjoying the feel of her and not wanting to cause her any discomfort.

"Move," Ma cried.

I started to pull out.

"Not too much," she whimpered.

I stopped, then sank back in the inch and a half I had pulled out. Pausing only briefly, I pulled out again but only a little, then pushed back in. I repeated this quite a few times, enjoying the gentle knock of my balls against Ma's pussy. When the tension eased from Ma's back—it was only then I realized how tense she'd been—I began pulling out farther and farther. Soon, I was moving within her as easily as if I was in her pussy and Ma seemed to like it, gasping each time my balls slapped her pouting, swollen pussy. She was very intense, moaning and groaning and making other sounds I can't describe that I hadn't heard in all the years I'd been fucking her.

Or, maybe some of those were coming from me. I had imagined doing Ma's butt for so long I was simply beside myself with excitement. The fact was, getting my wife's ass wouldn't have compared to this, though Little Hank might have disagreed with me judging by the enthusiasm he was expressing as he shagged my wife's butt. And Marylou, bless her cheating soul, seemed to be relishing every inch of meat he shoved into her behind.

Who cared? I circled Ma's waist with my hands and concentrated on doing her ass. I slowed my pace and began mixing it up, plugging her slowly, then stopping to ream around, pulling out really slow and plunging back in, yanking it right out and teasing her pucker with the tip, suddenly doing her hard and fast... I did everything I could think of.

Many times, I pulled out just to keep from coming but eventually, I couldn't hold it any longer and pulled out just in time, spraying my seed all over her cheeks, thighs, and back. By that time, I had used my weight to shove Ma flat on the bed and was rasping inane words of love and lust in her ear.
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We used the spotting scope quite a few times after that. Watching Little Hank and Marylou added an exotic twist to our lovemaking which, truth be known, had become too comfortable. Well, it had been many years and complacency does settle over the unwary.

Ma was right, as she was about most things. I was pleased that Little Hank was doing my wife. I liked being with her, knowing what was going on and knowing she didn't know I knew. After observing her and my little "brother" many times through the scope, I learned to do some things differently and relished doing them that way with Marylou myself, barely able to keep my laughter inside as I imagined what was going through her guilty mind.

To my surprise, Ma spoke openly about Hank, something she hadn't before. I had always wondered about Pa's words the day I had overheard them after Hank had left. He had implied that it was Ma's fault Hank had gone, "if only you'd...", an intriguing statement Ma had not allowed him to finish. I didn't understand it then but afterward thought Pa meant that Ma could have kept Hank home, in the same way she had kept me. I was convinced that, if Hank hadn't left, and died, Ma would never had had sex with me. I also thought Pa might have pushed Ma at me by blaming her for Hank's leaving. Then, I would reject my conclusion as the work of too active an imagination and put it out of my mind.

But over the years, I returned to and developed the theory. Ma knew Hank would never stay home but Pa thought he might so he tried to get Ma to offer his son something he was no longer capable of enjoying with his much younger wife. To a farmer, everything has a use so nothing gets thrown away. Pa needed Hank to stay. Aware of the attention his grown son paid to the feminine wares of the only woman he was in constant contact with—much like Little Hank being around Marylou so much—he asked Ma to use it to keep Hank home but she said no. Hank left and ended up dead, so Pa blamed Ma, and that's why she subsequently made herself available to me. As I grow older, I shed my illusions. I believed Ma knew I was there that first time I'd seen her in the washtub and it was no accident she had bathed that day, or when she had worn that shorter underdress a few days later. But I theorized that Ma seduced me, not for the good of the farm, but to ease the pain of losing Hank.

Well, so much for theories. I had finally won Ma's ass as we watched her youngest son fuck his "brother's" wife. Seeing how much she enjoyed the sordidness of it all prompted me to generate a whole new theory. It all came together in a simple comment Ma made several days later while I was casually fucking her from behind and working my thumb in her well-lubricated ass while she watched Little Hank and Marylou through the scope. Seven little words.

"You know, Little Hank is my son too."

Little Hank's my son too. And what was that supposed to mean when she was full of my cock and at the point of twisting her ass up to embed my thumb deeper, the signal that she wanted me to put my meat inside her raunchy little hole?

She wanted Little Hank to fuck her too!

History was suddenly rearranged in my mind, newly juxtapositioned thoughts creating a new theory. Hank hadn't left because Ma didn't do anything to keep him. He left because Ma had seduced him and Pa found out but, to Hank's further dismay, Pa wasn't even mad. It was alright with him if Hank had sex with Ma as long as that made him stay. This was too weird for Hank to handle so he left and then Pa blamed Ma, "if'n you had only...", maybe the ending was, "left the boy alone."

After all, at the time Ma was a young woman and I knew how voracious her sexual appetite was, even at her current age. Pa wasn't capable of satisfying her and she needed it, regular and often, not once in a while by some passing drifter. So she seduced Hank, and after he left, she had seduced me.

So why hadn't Pa stopped her? Well, I imagine he couldn't so when I became old enough and it was my turn, Pa just looked the other way even though he knew I wouldn't leave. Hank was a dreamer but I was a born farmer, and I would never go, no matter what. So I wasn't saved by a washtub, I was simply lured in for Ma to put me to good use and, now that I was older, she had her eye on Little Hank.

Well, Marylou was used to sharing and I guess I did owe Little Hank some thanks for Ma's ass.

"I think Marylou needs some new dresses," I said, resigned and lining my cock up on Ma's dark den of thrills. "Maybe, I'll take her up to the city tomorrow" I pushed my cock into Ma's tightness. "For the whole day."

Ma threw me around a lot that afternoon and fucking near wrenched my cock right off. Maybe Little Hank could tame her down a little.
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Marylou didn't comply with our best-laid plans, however. She didn't want to go to town.

"We've been together nearly fifteen years and you still don't know I hate shopping," she complained, disgusted.

"I just thought we'd go into town, that's all."

"I'm canning today. I don't have time to run around in town. You go if you want to but I need lots of apples and pears so leave Little Hank here."

Ma looked concerned. "Little Hank promised to do his college applications today," she said. "He doesn't have time to pick fruit, not if we're going to keep him out of Vietnam."

"Alright, alright. It was just a suggestion. I'll stay and pick the fruit." I looked at Ma for approval. She looked relieved.

Marylou broke in before Ma could speak. "Send him in with the first load and you get another."

"And then send him up to me... for an early lunch," Ma added through a sly, knowing smile that made me glad Marylou was looking away from us. She looked set to argue but there was no reason for Little Hank to stay and help Marylou with canning.

The kitchen was full of jars and huge, steaming canning pots when I came in after lunch.

"Did Little Hank go up to Ma's for lunch."

"He did," Marylou sounded disappointed.

Thinking of how Ma was helping Little Hank fill out his college applications made my cock tingle. Sitting at the kitchen table, I realized how nice my wife's behind looked. I got up and gave her a hug from behind, expecting her to rebuff me because she was in the middle of things. Instead, Marylou pushed her butt back at me and rubbed it on my obvious erection.

"How do you think Ma and Little Hank's doing with his applications?"

I was surprised by the question and also by the extra push of Marylou's ass against my hardening cock.

"I don't know," I answered lamely.

"I bet they're going pretty good," Marylou said. "I've been thinking about the two of them up there, working on it... probably going at it really hard."

That was an odd way to put it but I didn't say anything.

"You know Don, in the fall, when Little Hank's gone to college, you're going to have to work extra hard to keep your two women happy."

I nodded, thinking that was another odd thing for Marylou to say but remained silent, encircling her in my arms and pushing myself into her soft ass.

"I think we can leave this alone for a while, if you like."

Marylou bumped her behind against me to make her meaning clear.

Upstairs, I undressed. Marylou had quickly doffed her dress and underwear and hopped on the bed. She was facing the window and had dropped onto her elbows but kept up on her knees with her ass high. I started to close the curtain.

"Leave it," Marylou barked sharply.

Startled, I dropped the curtain.

"Hurry," Marylou said. "I've been waiting for hours."

I got in behind Marylou because she obviously wanted it that way. I started to enter her.

"No, not there," she husked. "Do it the way they're doing it."

"What?" I cried.

Marylou wiggled her butt and dropped onto her face, making her ass stick up high.

"Hurry," she urged. "I know they're watching."

I could have pretended I didn't know what she was talking about but there was a fine ass waiting to welcome me and even I knew that Marylou may have been wilfully blind over the years, but she wasn't really blind. She was forgiving me for my sins and offering me one hell of a peace offering. I didn't know what she expected in return but I looked forward to it.

Marylou treated me to a fine ass fuck. Don't ever say that competition does bring its own rewards. During a slow part, I once again reassessed my theory because strangely, while fucking my wife's ass and thinking about my son watching me as he unknowingly fucked his own mother's butt, I remembered something I had forgotten many years ago: overhearing Ma saying to Pa, "Send him in to me for lunch," in a strangely breathy voice.​