Page 09
The bottom of my foot tickled but I resisted the urge to scratch it with the big toe of my other foot. There it was again and I knew it wasn't a simple itch. Jeff was scratching his finger along the sole of my foot. Slowly, now applying just enough pressure that it no longer tickled and I lost the urge to pull my foot away. In fact, it felt nice.
I couldn't jump up and scold him for tickling my foot. Though bizarre, it wasn't sufficiently inappropriate to fulfill my task. I stayed still, breathing regularly, while his finger continued its languid scratching along the bottom of my foot. His other hand joined the task, not stroking the other foot but rather inserting its fingers between my toes and then running up to my ankles before jumping to my other leg and descending to play with the toes of that foot where his stroking finger miraculously appeared even while I could still feel its caress on my abandoned foot.
Jeff continued this gentle massage long enough that my attention lapsed and I relaxed. I was surprised when I noticed his fingers reaching past my knees to explore the inside of my lower thighs. I had no idea how long he'd been caressing almost the full extent of my legs, or exactly when I had allowed my limbs to part from their tight embrace. My legs felt warm and all aglow. His hands had left my feet and only one let its presence be felt by the lingering trace of fingers along the soft inside of my inner thighs. The nightgown, once settling over my legs just below my knees, had been pushed much higher, more than half way up my thighs.
Where was my mind? Panic surged within me. He was ready and the moment of confrontation was fast approaching. I braced myself, ready to leap as the rush of his hand up my legs under the nightgown was rewarded with its first contact with my bare pussy. That would be crime enough. My mind urged his hand forward, yet dreaded its attack.
My chest tickled. His hand was still hovering, fingers scratching my inner thighs but approaching no closer to my hot place. Again the tickle on my chest and I deduced its source. Jeff was tugging a lace, trying to loosen its concealing hold on my breasts. If I hadn't tied them so tight the first bow would have pulled loose, and I could have ended it all right then, or maybe after the second one. Yes, I should wait until he had undone at least two leaving me clearly exposed and betraying his guilty intentions.
Jeff tugged and tugged without further success, then moved to the next bow with similar results. His hand withdrew but the one resting on my thighs remained. I thought he had given up but his fingers returned, this time inserting themselves inside the loops of a bow and spreading out, slowly pulling the lace through the knot. He wasn't in a hurry. His movements were slow and gentle, perhaps designed not to wake me. No, given what had happened before, that couldn't be it. Rather, he was enjoying it, like savoring a dessert. He was dragging out the disrobing because undressing me excited him, maybe even as much as the final revelation.
Such flattery. His fingers fluttered against the chest bones below my neck as he struggled to loosen the uppermost bow. Their gentle scrapes made my skin tingle. Why couldn't Stefan have been more like his son? The upper bow finally loosened and Jeff pulled each component lace straight and carefully laid them down to the side. His fingers were now undoing the next bow and their fluttering touches scraped across the upper swells of my breasts rather than on the bones below my neck. One more bow and then I'd give him hell.
It took Jeff much longer to loosen the second bow. Either it was tighter or he had more difficulty trying to spread each loop apart against the soft resistance of my upper breasts. As it was, he managed to loosen it but didn't pull the laces apart. Instead, he moved on to the next bow. I didn't know what to do. He hadn't pulled the nightgown apart to reveal my breasts. Only the top lace was completely undone. Was that enough to accuse him?
No. Let him loosen the next one too, then surely he'd undo both bows and pull the gown apart, revealing my breasts even more. Then he'd really be caught with three undone.
I waited patiently while Jeff fumbled with the third bow. This one seemed to be especially tough. His fingers and palms scraped all over my breasts. I almost gritted my teeth, waiting stoically as he struggled. His fingers were no longer brushing over my upper breasts but against the meat of my tits, constantly scraping across my nipples or delving into the valley between. I couldn't help responding. No matter, I convinced myself, I could blame their stiffness on his wretched behavior and accuse him of doing even than just peeking. He would be even more caught than I had planned.
But when Jeff left that bow just loosened too and moved on to the last one, I argued that I should let him get them all undone. At least now his fingers were low enough to just rub over my belly and across the underside of my swelling breasts, a titilation that was much easier to handle. Soon, he'd have this final one loosened and then he would surely pull the nightgown apart. Then I would have him and I'd make my move.
He was done. I expected him to return to the second bow and pull it apart but he actually untangled the fourth one first, pulling the laces apart to lay them to the side just as carefully as he'd done the first. Now my belly was partly bare and, though my navel was exposed, it wasn't enough to make my move. Jeff moved up to the second bow and dismantled it, pulling it apart sufficiently to expose the upper swells of my breasts completely. Next, he moved to the third bow. I waited for him to gently pull it apart, ready to spring as he laid the laces to my sides but he surprised me by quickly yanking the laces and spreading the gown wide.
"Awesome," he cried. "Such beautiful tits, the best in the whole world. Mom, you're the most perfect woman a man could have."
I was taken aback. Awesome? The most beautiful tits, the most perfect woman. I was frozen as his words splashed across my body and trickled into my mind. His hands were at my sides where he had laid the ends of the final pair of laces, pressing against the sides of my breasts, pushing them together and forcing my nipples higher, toward him.
"I need to kiss her," Jeff whispered.
I willed myself to leap up, to shout out, 'What the hell are you doing?'
But I didn't move. I was paralyzed, helpless, awaiting the press of his moist lips on my breasts, to envelop my straining nipples.
His mouth was on me, his lips covering mine, moving, tongue seeking entrance, slipping inside. My jaw slackened, allowing him to gain entry. My son had kissed me, but on my mouth. I was stunned that he had sought my lips instead of my tits. My love for him gushed through my body. What a lover. He kissed and kissed and kissed me. It wasn't until his mouth pulled away so his tongue could slide back and forth along my lips and flick between upper and lower, that I felt his fingers below, fluttering in a similar fashion over my lower lips. I couldn't believe I had been so unaware of his lower caress.
He was so adept with his fingers. I was very wet and must have unconsciously opened my legs. How long had he been there? My resolve wilted away. When Jeff moved his head lower to suck first one nipple and then the other into his mouth, I simply moaned my pleasure. When his mouth returned to mine, I opened it brazenly to accept his tongue and groaned into his mouth as his fingers pushed deeper inside me with a twisting motion.
He kissed me even longer than before and when he stopped my cunt was soaking. I had never before needed to be fucked so badly. I needed him, I craved his forbidden cock. Jeff pulled away, dragging his fingers out of me. I knew he was looking down at me, barely visible in the darkness, but nevertheless there, awaiting his pleasure. I lifted my knees and pulled my legs up and apart, as wanton a woman as ever you'd see.
Jeff chuckled. I knew it was coming even before his mouth covered my pussy. Despite myself, I tried to raise my head so I could see his face on me but my head dropped back to the pillow in ecstasy as his tongue thrust deep into my cunt. Smack, his had slapped my ass. Smack, smack. Daggers of pleasure darted throughout my groin as I lurched onto his tongue and then again as Jeff wiggled it inside me and his hand stayed on my ass, thumb curling up to insert itself in my lower folds while his fingers curved around my crack and rubbed across my anus as his mouth sucked my pussy lips. He shook his head, drawing audible groans from my lips and my hands suddenly sprang from my sides to grasp his hair and shove his face harder against my nether hole.
Again Jeff laughed and, to my horror, pulled his head away. There was a short pause, then a softer chuckle. Pat, pat, pat — he lightly punished my swollen, throbbing mound. His fingers found my lips and spread them wide, then allowed them to close before the next trio of almost punishing pats. Oh god, oh yes, punish me. I've been so bad. Spank my bad pussy. I loved it. He kept spreading my lips, then spanking them as they closed, sometimes dipping his head to insert his healing tongue. Never, never, ever had I felt anything so wonderfully exquisite. I was so absolutely horny, I was horniness itself.
He was on the bed now, kneeling beneath me, pushing my legs higher but there was no need, I was already pulling them back, getting ready for him, ready for my son.
"Move over, god damn it," Jeff grunted.
He was kneeing his father aside. Stefan groaned and turned onto his side, back toward us. Jeff pressed my legs farther apart until my knees were beside my tits. I have never been opened so wide. He rose up and hung poised above me. I felt his cock scraping over my gaping orifice, settling into my open hole, seeking, then pushing in, more, so slowly, deeper, shoving farther into his mother, fucking me. He was in all the way, filling me like I'd never been filled before. Oh, why had I avoided this, why hadn't I encouraged him, no begged him, to do this sooner?
Jeff pulled almost all the way out, leaned forward way over me, and slammed in.
Fucking incredible.
"I'm fucking you mother," he cried.
He pulled back and rammed in again, then back more quickly and in just as hard, and again, each time returning more quickly until he was fucking me like a steam engine, bouncing me on the mattress and lifting high over my widely stretched thighs, then slamming down as I rose up to meet him. The whole time, he talked to me as if he thought I was awake. It was a fast, furious, hard fuck, born of desperation and need, and it died of relief and satisfaction.
Although it hadn't lasted long, it was incredibly intense. Jeff pulled me up into a sitting position and tugged the nightgown over my head. As soon as it was off, he pushed me back onto the bed and spun me around onto my tummy, actually lifting me off the bed and spinning me. Quickly, he straddled my thighs and I lifted my rear end up, craving what I knew was coming. A second later, I was full of his meat and his pelvis was banging against my ass. The second fuck was slower, less desperate, but no less intense. I loved it when he pushed me flat, lying on top of me with his fingers reaching around to tease my nipples and his tongue nibbling my neck and ears, whispering his love in one end and shoving it in the other.
I can't remember how many times he took me that night. When he was finished, he just got up and left without cleaning me up the way he usually did. Instead, he left me covered in our sweat next to his father. Just sweat. Not once had he pulled out to spray his seed over me. Each time, he had stayed inside, pumping me full of his semen until he was spent. The last time, he had lain beside me, kissing me gently for several minutes until finally, with one last long kiss, he was gone.
I lay there, exhausted, totally mother-fucked. I had done it. I had let him fuck me, and now I knew it was inevitable that I would let it happen again. I hadn't thought about ending it for a single second while he was fucking me and I didn't think it now. I would let him fuck me whenever he wanted. I was lost.
* * * * * * * * * *
The next day, though awake, I stayed in bed while Stefan got packed. He had slept really well, he said. He felt great and wanted to get an even earlier start on his next trip, leaving that day after lunch instead of Sunday morning. I didn't care. Go see your young whore, I thought. Stay as long as you want. My son will be inside me tonight. No, probably even sooner that that. I bet Stefan would hardly be out of the driveway before Jeff made me a pot of his special tea.
I didn't get up until almost noon. I dressed in a simple dress of thin material with a long skirt and just a couple of hidden clasps holding the blouse part together in the front. I had put on panties after my shower but hadn't bothered with a bra. Stefan was too focused on leaving to notice but I was pleased to see that Jeff did. I was certain to get my tea as soon as Stefan was gone.
Jeff helped Stefan carry his bags to the car. I heard him wishing his father a good trip through the open front door as I filled the sink to wash the few dishes we had used for lunch. The door closed quietly but firmly behind me. I heard Jeff approaching but kept my attention on the dishes in the sink slowly rubbing the cloth around and around a tall glass. I shifted my hips, rolling my weight from one leg to the other, knowing that the motion would lift my ass invitingly as if suggesting, 'Make me some tea'. I was horny already. Jeff stood silently behind me. I waited for him to suggest tea, or to just put the kettle on, but he was still. I let my ass subtly surge against the skirt, trying not so unconsciously to hurry him along.
He moved.
My skirt suddenly rose up my legs until the hem was held on my hips.
"Jeff," I cried. "What in the world are you doing?"
"I just wanted to see," he replied.
"See what?" I gasped in shock.
"What color you're panties wearing today. Uh, red I see."
"Put my dress down," I cried, in not so mock anger.
"No," he replied firmly.
"What do you mean no?" I retorted.
"I'm not finished yet," he said. "I want to see what's underneath them too."
"Undern..."
Before I could finish, Jeff pushed my panties down until they were stretched across my thighs below my buttocks.
"Perfect," he murmured.
"Jeffrey Owen, you put my dress down right now. If your father forgot something, he could be back any minute."
My actions belied my words. I hadn't turned around to confront my son, forcing my skirt down. I hadn't even looked at him. I simply stood meekly in front of the sink, my dress gathered around my hips and my panties stretched across my legs under my bottom.
"You weren't worried about Dad last night," Jeff whispered, slipping his hands around my front, grasping my dress and pulling it apart, snapping the delicate clasps and allowing my breasts to spring free, briefly, before they were captured in his hands.
"Jeff, whatever are you talking about? And take your hands off me."
"I don't think so Mother."
Jeff stepped close and I felt his hard pole slip between my legs into the gap between my panties and my ass. He must have pulled his pants down while he stood behind me and, despite my straining ears, I hadn't heard him. The stretched material of my panties kept his shaft pressed against my bottom and pussy. If I looked down I'm sure I would have seen the tip poking out in front of me. It reminded me of the day he had shoved himself to climax between my legs while humping me against the side of the bed. My pussy started to lubricate. I was too shocked and horny to speak. My legs felt weak and wobbly.
"I have a confession to make, Mother. I haven't been putting anything in your tea for weeks."
He paused to let that sink in. Though he was quiet, he was not still. His fingers continually kneaded my tits and his cock moved to and fro slowly, scraping across my perineum. Whether it was shock or desire, I was still unable to speak.
"Just accept it," Jeff urged. "You don't have to say anything," he continued, his cock rubbing through my legs. "Just bend over."
Jeff drew back until the head of his cock slipped up, pressing between my cheeks. Slowly, my body in control, I bent over the sink and, as I did, his cock slipped down and nudged the moist entrance to my pussy, then waited there until I was bent right over.
"Show me that you accept. Meet me half way," he whispered.
Pushing forward, his hard cock met only slight resistance until its head was lodged inside me and then stopped. Jeff's hand fell away from my left tit, slipped up over my arm and shoulder and grasped a handful of hair at the back of my head. Gently, he tugged my head back until I was looking out the window. He waited, staring at the reflection of my face.
I could see my face too. A visage drenched in desire. My hands pushed against the counter and I slid back onto his pole, my silky walls, ravaged from the night before, reluctantly parting before an honored guest. I stopped, my mouth half open, a silent moan refusing to escape my lips. Jeff shoved ahead, forcing my mouth wide open in a loud groan that rose sharply in pitch as the height of his offer met the depth of my acceptance. Holding me firmly, the muscles in his legs taut, he bulged his cock inside, holding, holding, then releasing and withdrawing with a long, agonized gasp.
The return was more harried and intense. Like the night before, Jeff quickly increased his pace though he never reached the depth of that first, bulging thrust. He held my head back, his eyes never once wavering from my face. Though it couldn't have been comfortable, I never noticed the jerking of my hair as he pummeled against my ass. I was too busy using my hands to shove myself back to meet his thrusts, doing my best to slide as far as I could on his hard, demanding tumescence.
When he came, Jeff arched his back, tugging my head up even more, yanking me into a half standing position as his seed splurged inside me. He pulled me fully upright as his cock slipped out and he folded his arms around me. Immediately, I felt his copious spend trickling down the inside of my thighs.
"Finally," he said. "No more pretending."
"Yes," I gasped. "No more games."
Jeff laughed. "Oh, no. There will be games."
"Yes," I agreed. "Fun and games but no more pretending."
"I want to have you everywhere in the house. I don't want there to be a single place you won't be reminded of our love, especially when Dad is here."
It sounded childishly possessive but I understood the pain of first love.
"Then you better get started," I said. "We have a lot of house to cover."
Jeff laughed. "Give me a minute to get my breath, woman."
I laughed back and walked out of his arms, my dress falling back into place, and stopped a few feet away. I turned back to look coyly at him, twisting far enough for him to see inside my broken bodice, and said, "Don't keep me waiting too long."
I looked down the back of my legs and pulled the skirt up to my bottom and then over my buttocks. Jeff looked and I could tell the second he saw his spend running down my legs. His face turned into a mask of lust and he moved toward me. I ran away, shrieking, but he caught me before I was halfway across the living room. We started marking the house right then and there.
Jeff was true to his word. For the next week, we fucked everywhere, even outside on the patio lounge. We went out for dinner and he took me in his car, promising to do me in his father's when he returned. It wasn't until the evening before Stefan was due back, at the beginning of what would be a long tender session in my bed, that he mentioned Linda.
