Incest/Taboo The Rambler

What are the odds that we both came together? But we did. Loudly. Moaning and grunting as if nobody could hear. Well, so what? We were alone except for the distant farmhouse, and the birds.

Tim and I exchanged places while our mothers' heads were still covered by their skirts. When she could speak, still gasping for breath, Mom turned around and admonished us.

"What are you boys thinking? We're not schoolgirls you can trade around."

"Oh Mary," Millie gasped. "Lighten up. You can see they're on the right sides. They may have touched us up a bit for fun, but they ended up where they belong. Right boys?"

Tim and I both nodded, but Mom looked uncertain until Millie jabbed her with her elbow and we all laughed when she said, "That was the best blind date I've been on."

Tim drove home and Mom and I sat in the back seat. The wine must have made her weary because she stretched her feet out and laid her head in my lap. Tim stopped on the way home to pick up some cokes and Millie turned around to face me as soon as he got out of the car.

Looking down at Mom, she asked, "Is she really sleeping?"

I nodded, "I think so."

Millie stretched then, arching her back in an exaggerated fashion, cupping her breasts in her hands and sliding her palms slowly up onto their fronts.

"Oh, that Timmy," she sighed. "He was so rough with these." Millie dropped her hands and quickly turned to face me. "But I liked it," she said, dropping her voice to a hoarse whisper.

She pinched her nipples from outside her blouse, then suddenly lurched forward as if something had pushed her sharply from behind, then jerked ahead again. Her face broke out into a big smile and she dropped her hands just as Tim approached the car.
​

* * * * * * *​

I had an overwhelming need to have my mother that night. Maybe I needed to prove my love for her. I don't know, but the need was real. Dad wasn't home yet and Mom, despite her words to me that afternoon, wouldn't do anything in case he arrived. We ate a quiet meal. I could tell something was on Mom's mind and I wondered if she knew I had let Tim fuck her, and that I had fucked her friend.

Dad finally got home about nine, completely bushed. He went straight to bed, telling Mom not to wake him and to call in the next morning to say he was sick. Mom said she was tired and was going to bed early too. I went upstairs but changed my mind, returning downstairs dressed only in my shorts after a brief stop in the bathroom. I sat on the couch, in the dark, and waited.

It was at least half an hour before I heard Mom's door open. The light in the bathroom flashed on and off, followed by the soft pad of my mother's bare feet coming down the hallway, her dark form soon discernable in the darkness, but only barely, the creak of the stairs revealing her position as she descended the stairs. She paused by the kitchen doorway to turn on the light, disappointment flitting briefly across her face before she stepped out of my sight.

The kitchen light had outlined her body under the flimsy and worn summer nightgown she was wearing, long nipples jutting into the material so hard they lifted it away from her breasts. That her nipples were so hard stiffened my cock in my shorts. She was thinking about today, about me, I was sure of it.

I heard the tap running, a glass filling, then the sound of water being gulped down an eager throat. The slap of glass on the counter was followed by soft footsteps coming closer. Her body appeared, then half turned to turn out the light, pausing as she saw me sitting on the couch. Her high, patrician features expressionless as she regarded me, only the twitching lines at the side of her mouth, the ones she hated so much, indicated that her rigid body was indeed alive.

My eyes were drawn to a wet spot perfectly circling her left tit, starkly delineating her stiff nipple and flattening with tight cohesion on the silver dollar sized areole where water had splashed when she tipped the glass too high, overflowing her mouth and spilling from her chin.

The light flicked out.

I couldn't hear her moving on the carpet and in the fresh darkness I couldn't see, but I sensed she was coming toward me. The brush of her legs on mine confirmed my suspicion.

"What are you waiting for here in the dark," she asked, her normal voice sounding so loud I thought it could wake the dead.

I didn't answer.

"You didn't think I was going to come looking for you?"

I remained silent.

"Did you? With your father right upstairs?" Her voice was quieter now.

I kept quiet.

She didn't speak. Seconds ticked by, only our breathing marking the passage of time.

"Is that what you thought?" she whispered.

I don't think she expected me to answer because she whispered again right away.

"Have you got it out?"

I slipped my shorts down, under my ass, and pushed them to my knees. The rustling audible even though our breathing was louder now.

Seconds ticked by again. She was waiting, now, teasing while my cock wobbled in the dark, summer air. Now it was I that was frantic with expectation.

I felt her knees, outside mine. Was she getting ready to get on me? I braced myself. A moan escaped my lips.

"Ohhhhh."

Mom's mouth had suddenly enveloped my cock. How she had done it, how her aim could be so perfectly accurate, I'll never know, but it is a feeling I'll never, ever forget. To have your hard cock suddenly covered by a warm, wet mouth without any warning. Incredible.

She was sucking, sliding her lips tightly up and down my rigid member. I reached up to grasp her head, to guide her mouth but her hands batted mine away. I let them fall limply to my sides as my mother sucked and sucked my sensitive cock, sometimes swirling all around my head, and sometimes dropping unexpectedly down my shaft. She went down all the way, her lips nibbling around my root, my cockhead squished into what must have been the entrance to her throat.

Then she would slide up and release me with a loud, sucking pop followed by gasps for air and the drool of her saliva oozing onto my helmet, dripping down my shaft. It was fantastic, exquisite torture. I couldn't stand it anymore and reached again to control her head.

This time, she let me. Immediately, I began thrusting my cock into her mouth, desperate for release. She allowed me to fuck her face, slowly at first, but then faster and faster. The sound of her struggle to accommodate my plunging only increased the speed of my frantic lunges until I was bursting in her throat, flooding her tongue, then feeling the rivulets of my spend that couldn't find a home in her mouth, trickling down my cock and onto my balls.

I collapsed back into the couch. Mom was moving and when I felt her knees outside my shoulders I knew she had stood on the couch, even before I felt her wet, hairy pussy pushing against my mouth.

"What was that bad word you used today?" her cackling whisper revealing a wicked sense of humor.

My silence provoked a twisting rub that smeared her juices across my chin and lips.

"Hmmmmm?"

"Cunt," I whispered, followed by a sharp intake of breath as I, correctly, anticipated her wetness covering my entire mouth.

Mom's hands grabbed the sides of my head, like I had gripped hers moments before. She pulled away.

"Do you still love it?"

"Yes," I whispered, quickly sucking in air.

"Then lick it," she cried, yanking my head forward and grinding her pussy on my face.

She didn't speak again, at least, she didn't utter any sounds that were intelligible. And, though she periodically released my head, I knew she didn't want me to speak, only breathe. Eventually, her cunt was rubbed more delicately on my face as she guided me to lick and suck and poke my tongue exactly where she wanted it. I thought it would take longer than it did. Maybe it was a long time but I was still surprised when she suddenly gripped me hard and ground her pussy in a sustained, hard series of bumps and grinds, then collapsed, falling limply to the couch beside me.

She was like a rag doll when I manipulated her body onto her stomach, leaning forward to stretch one leg behind me and draping the other over my lap. My fingers found their way into her pussy and though she had so recently experienced a fulfilling release, her bottom was soon twitching in response to my sensitive ministrations.

I searched around until I found the little jar I had brought downstairs with me from the bathroom. I opened it with one hand, not stopping my pussy titillation, and set it in the hollow of her back. I scooped up a big gob of petroleum jelly and worked the edge of my hand between her cheeks, spreading them before twisting my fingers down to smear the slippery goo on her asshole.

Mom's head jerked around.

"What are you doing?"

Instead of answering, I spread the jelly around on her cheeks, then returned to push the remains onto her puckered hole.

"Ricky, what are you doing?"

I pulled my fingers out of her pussy and held the jar while I dug out a large wad of jelly. I was silent while I greased my cock, then pushed the rest all over her ass, pushing her thigh out so I could cram it onto her bud with my thumb.

"What are you doing to me," she whispered.

"Turn your face into the couch," I whispered back.

"What are you doing?" she repeated.

I spread her cheeks and placed my thumb onto her crinkly rosebud. Slipping my finger back into her pussy, I whispered, "Put your face in the couch."

I began finger fucking Mom and gently rubbing my thumb over her dark crinkle, gradually pressing harder until my thumb tip was dipping in just the slightest bit. Minutes passed and Mom relaxed, recognizing play that was similar to that she had enjoyed in the afternoon accompanied by my teasing tongue. Though she remained silent, her face still looked back, eyes glinting intensely even in the darkness.

I raised my pussy hand up and arched its thumb up to join its brother that was teasing Mom's asshole. I inserted it into the little hallway, the greeting room in which I knew I had to linger before being invited into the chamber of sighs.

Mom buried her face in the couch.

She didn't make a sound until my hand pressed against her slippery ass and my thumb, pushed in as far as it would go, bursting through the inner door. That's when I learned the sweetest hello in the world could be a simple grunt.

After a while I replaced my thumb with my finger but, though longer, it was too thin so I pushed another one in and worked Mom with the two but I knew it was time for the real thing. I positioned myself behind her, my cock nudging her now open asshole.

"Easy," Mom cautioned.

"OK," I responded. "You come for it."

I held still, rubbing her rear end with my cock. She didn't move, still waiting for me to push in.

I repeated, "You have to take it."

More rubbing until finally, tentatively, her ass pushed back, pinching my tip in her dark well, paused, and then pushed harder. I popped inside. She waited for a full minute, then pushed slowly but steadily back, scraping tightly over my shaft until I was all the way in. Again, she waited.

At last, she rasped, "Move."

"What?" I asked.

"Fuck it," she cried. "Fuck it."

I pulled back slowly, not far, maybe an inch, then gently pushed back in. There was no response, so I carefully copied that move, then again, and again. Soon I was traversing two inches, but more quickly, though still not fast. It took me a good three minutes to confidently launch full strokes in and out of Mom's ass, and another three, after she began making appreciative sounds, before I started mixing it up with more interesting thrusts and parlays.

Her moans and grunts showed she liked a period of slow in and outs to be followed by a sudden flurry of hard, ramming thrusts, capped by a long, shoving, grinding plug. I tried to cover her pussy with my hand but hers was already there and refused to relinquish its prized position. Conceding her pussy to Mom's more expert fingers, I concentrated on reaming her ass, dropping my right foot to the floor to leverage myself above her arched up bottom, allowing me to really dig in and root around.

I was surprised by this sexy woman, my mother. She loved getting it in the ass, something she'd never done before and later told me she was petrified when she knew what I wanted to do. Yet she let me have her, just like she had allowed me to come on her face. Though I didn't know it in the latter instance, I knew while I was gouging her bottom that she would never have let my father do this to her. I instinctively knew that, despite how much she loved it, she would never let anyone else have her ass. And when I became aware of that, at the moment Mom's moans turned into such a howl she dug her face into the crease between the cushion and the back of the couch, I emptied my balls inside her, holding her hips to keep her ass arched up to accept my gift.
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* * * * * * *​

On Tuesday, I got a job. I rushed home to tell Mom the good news. As soon as I saw her, standing by the kitchen, a plate of sandwiches and a large of milk waiting on the table, I wanted her. I walked straight to her, ignoring the food despite my hunger, taking her in my arms for an intense kiss.

"I got a job," I managed to get out between kisses.

"I know," she said. "I could tell."

I pulled her dress up with my left hand and slipped my right under her panties, my long finger snaking between her cheeks to find her asshole.

"No, Ricky," she whispered unconvincingly. "Eat your lunch."

"Fuck that I said."

But she broke away and ran, laughing as she stumbled up the stairs. I rushed after her but didn't catch her until she had reached her bed, pushing her forward, spreading her legs and shoving her dress over her hips and ass, yanking her panties down. Her struggle and giggles stopped then. She lay open and exposed in front of me, spread legs and ass lewdly pushed up toward me in invitation as I undid my belt and pushed my jeans down to free my raging cock. Her hands were scrabbling in the headboard, searching for something, finding it, one hand reaching back to offer me a tube. I pointed it at her ass, inserted the nozzled end between her cheeks, and squeezed until a thick oil bubbled out from her crack and onto the roundness of her buttocks.

I pushed my cock in to replace the tube, pushing the goo into her hole, stopping to wait for her to push back, to receive me at her own discretion, moaning when she finally popped me in. Within two minutes, I was reaming my mother's ass for the second time in my life.

On Thursday, I took her again.

That's how the summer went. Two or three times a week we managed to fuck at home, at least once in the ass. On weekends, we joined Tim and his mom for a drive, stopping to fuck in the great outdoors, close to each other but never again switching moms.

At the end of the summer, I went to college in the next town, where our college girls were supposedly located. Tim went to Vietnam.

I had sex whenever I could with Mom throughout the fall and winter. It was tough on Tim's mom, especially at Christmas. The following summer, Mom and I renewed our Sunday drives and even managed to get into the drive-in again. We had become very practiced lovers, well-attuned to each others joys.

One day, I came home from an early shift at my summer job to find Mom and Millie having coffee. They were sitting on tall stools at the counter, sandwiches and milk placed in front of the end stool for me. I sat down and began eating. I hadn't seen Millie since Xmas when she looked drawn out and tired. She looked better now, with a little summer sun. She and Mom both wore fancier dresses. They must have been at some kind of luncheon or something, or were going to one. I munched away while they chatted, until Mom suddenly included me in the conversation.

"Millie's really been missing Tim," Mom said.

It took a moment for me to realize that she was speaking to me. I turned toward Mom, looking across Millie since she was sitting on the stool between us, with a mouthful of sandwich.

"So do I," I mumbled around a mouthful of tuna salad and bread.

Millie burst out laughing, stretching her hand onto my thigh, patting it.

"Each your sandwich, kid. We can't let a lonely mother's pining get between a man and his food."

They both laughed and Millie turned back to Mom to carry on their conversation but she left her hand on my thigh. Though she didn't do anything, I became intensely aware of its presence due to its proximity to my groin. I couldn't help it that my groin started growing closer to her hand. Mom and Millie were reminiscing about the last summer while my little guy stiffened and filled the crotch of my jeans, trying to straighten out down the leg that Millie's hand so delicately decorated.

"Wouldn't it be nice if Millie could join us for our drives again?" Mom asked. I looked at Mom's inquiring face. She added, "And maybe see a movie with us?"

Just then, Millie's fingers retracted, scratching along my inner thigh. Both women were looking to me for a response, though I'm sure it wasn't the one I was currently forming.

"Uh, sure," I bumbled out awkwardly.

Millie turned to Mom, "That's great, when would be good for you?"

Her fingers scratched me again as she spoke and waited for Mom's answer, stretching closer to my groin and dragging her hand higher up my leg so the next move, which quickly followed, allowed her fingers to lightly scrape over the tip of my burgeoning cock.

"Why not this Sunday?" Mom replied. She continued with even more enthusiasm, "We could go to the drive-in again. We can get in now and there's a triple feature showing this Saturday. Remember that first triple feature we went to?"

Millie laughed, nodding, her fingers executing a longer scratch the length of my cock.

"Do I? That was really something."

My cock grew even more under her stroking fingers.

"Millie! What are you doing?" Mom suddenly barked.

I froze, but Millie's fingers didn't, and I couldn't help responding.

"What?" Millie's voice was the epitome of innocence.

"Your hand is on Rick's leg."

"It is?" Millie's innocence was extended.

My right hand had moved to cover Millie's on my left leg but it was too late and it dropped in my lap, at least blocking any further advance onto my crotch.

"Damn right it is. It's right between his legs. What's it doing there?" Mom was indignant.

I didn't know what to do. I hadn't done anything. I was just sitting there, face red, breath hard to come by.

"Touching your son's cock," Millie answered calmly.

I was shocked.

"Oh," Mom replied in an equally calm voice. "So, what do you think? Can you make it on Saturday?"

I was stupefied!

"Yes, I think so. I'm sure my loving husband doesn't have any amorous plans for me."

Millie's hand suddenly slipped back, grabbed my hand from my lap and pulled it over to drop it on her leg, just above her knee. She nudged my hand between her legs before slipping her own back to resume its position, clamping over my cock.

Mom spoke again, her voice inquisitive rather than angry. "Millie, what are you doing with Rick's hand?"

"Putting it between my legs," Millie replied, her hand sliding further up my leg so her palm was scraping against my balls as her fingers cupped my cock.

"Oh," Mom said. "Can you come on Sunday, then?"

This conversation was too bizarre.

"Sure." Scratch, scratch, scratch.

"That's great," Mom kept contributing to this surreal interaction. "That's never going to work," she said. "That dress is far too tight."

Mom reached down to grasp the hem of Millie's dress, between her legs, almost touching mine which was still holding the inside of Millie's right leg, just above her knee. She started tugging Millie's dress, trying to pull it higher.

"Come on, Millie. Open your legs," Mom said.

My disbelief was being replaced by the slow realization that I had been set up.

Millie's legs opened, her right thigh moving until it hit mine whereupon she lifted her leg and draped her knee over mine. Her widening thighs had caused my hand to slip higher up her leg. Mom tugged the dress higher, exposing Millie's white panties.

"Is she still touching your cock?"

I looked up into Mom's eyes. She was looking directly at me.

"Yes." My voice was so hoarse it didn't even sound like a word to me.

"Then it's fair for you to touch her."

I couldn't speak.

"Can you see her panties?"

I nodded. Millie's hand scrunched tightly over my cock.

"Touch them."

I stared. Millie's pulsing mound made her panties seem alive.

"She really misses Tim," Mom whispered.

I pushed my hand forward, twisting at the last minute so it could cup Millie's pussy, arching my hand so the long middle finger could nestle between her puffy lips. Millie's hand tightened even more and she released a loud sigh as her panties pushed against my fingers.

For several minutes, I rubbed my friend's mother's pussy while my own mom kept her dress pulled away so my hand was free to move. When her dampness soaked through to my hand and her aroma filtered up to flood our nostrils, Mom stopped us.

"That's enough," she said, getting off her stool.

I didn't want to stop. I was enjoying the strange situation and the feel of Millie's pussy. I wanted more. But Mom insisted, pulling Millie off the stool and away from my eager fingers.

"But Mom," I protested, "she really misses Tim."

"Well, she shouldn't have touched my son's cock without permission."

Mom took hold of both Mom's hands and, walking backward, towed Millie out of the kitchen. Millie had trouble walking but followed, kicking one high heeled shoe away that had fallen half off her foot and managing to discard the other as she entered the living room. I followed, cock painfully bent, loosening my jeans to relieve it.

I had expected Mom to lead Millie to the door and out but she turned her into the living room, over to Dad's big chair, sidestepping the large ottoman in front that Dad used to rest his feet. Mom squatted between the ottoman and the chair, pulling Millie down to her knees on the opposite side and stretching her across by pulling her arms.

Millie submissively flopped down, laying her head on its side and letting her arms fall limply to the side of the ottoman without a struggle. Mom leaned over her and stretched out to grasp Millie's tight dress, pulling it up her legs, baring the back of her thighs, then higher, until it was bunched above her hips.

Mom looked up at me. "She's been very naughty."

I just nodded, looking down at Millie's exposed thighs and panties, not sure what was going on or what Mom expected me to do. Mom's hands slipped up to hold Millie down under her armpits.

"Smack her bottom," Mom commanded.

"What?"

"Smack her bottom.

"Mom, I can't ..."

"Yes you can. She touched you without permission. Now do it."

I reached down and lightly smacked Millie's pantied rear end.

"Harder."

I spanked her again with a little more force.

"Harder, or I won't let her come to the drive-in."

My cock would never have forgiven me if I let that happen.

Smack, smack, smack. Millie moaned

"Again. Harder."

SMACK, SMACK, SMACK.

"Ohhh, unnghh, unggghhh."

I was beginning to enjoy this.

"Stop."

I raised my hand.

"I said stop."

I lowered my hand, confused, frustrated.

"Pull her panties down."

"What?"

"Pull her panties down."

I got down on my knees behind Tim's mom. Looking at Mom for confirmation, I grabbed Millie's panties at each hip and dragged them over her bottom, pushing down until the waistband stretched across the backs of her knees.

"Keep spanking her."

I slapped Millie's ass until her moans were loud and her cheeks red.

"Stop."

Mom leaned over Millie, close to her head.

"Do you want it now?"

Millie's head shook ... in affirmation.

"Please." That small word escaped amid a series of rapid breaths.

Mom looked up at me, kneeling behind Tim's mom, breathing hard.

"Fuck her," Mom said.

Mom prodded me again, looking down at my bulging, loosened jeans, then back up to my face.

"I said fuck her. She can't wait until Saturday."

I pushed my jeans down, my huge boner flopping forward into attack position.

Mom held up her hand and leaned down to Millie again.

"Tim's friend is going to fuck you now. For your son."

Mom waved me on. "Take her."

I lined up with Millie's inflamed pussy and slipped inside, easily sinking my whole shaft in. She was incredibly wet. I immediately started banging her hard. I was so fucking excited and Millie was really ready for it. I really hammered into her.

"That's it, that's it." Mom cried, spurring me on. "You know she likes it hard."

I knew in that instant that Mom had known all along that I had fucked Millie the day they bent over the Rambler's backseat on the hillside, and I had let Tim fuck her. I went wild, pumping Millie from behind like a maniac until I blew my load inside her, leaning over her back, gasping, gulping for air.

I pulled out quickly when Mom flung herself back onto Dad's chair, lifting her legs up and out to display her rosy, freshly shaved pussy. I had never seen it without a thick thatch of hair; in fact, it was the first shorn pussy I had ever seen. I stumbled around Millie, shuffling with my feet still in my jeans, falling to my knees and throwing my face between Mom's legs, gulping a huge breath just before her hands violently yanked my face onto her soaking wet, bare cunt.

She hunched on my head frantically and in less than a minute she flooded my face with her pungent juice. I remained licking between her legs, reveling in the occasional appreciative twitch. At long last, Mom stood, straightened her dress and smoothed it in place over thighs while Millie did the same, having already pulled her panties up and snugging them into place.

"So, Saturday and Sunday, then?" Mom looked over me at Millie.

"Definitely," Millie responded. "Pick me up at eight?"

"We'll be there," I chipped in, struggling to my feet with jeans still around my ankles, appearing a little foolish compared to the now-composed mothers, "Maybe even a bit early."
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* * * * * * *​

I kept thinking about that afternoon over the next few days. I've thought about it a lot since. It seemed too unreal to be true and, in a sense it was. but that day was the culmination of months of pressures and shared emotional moments for Mom and Millie, starting the Xmas before when Tim's absence really came crushing down on his mom. Both moms were uncomfortable that Mom had me there and Millie didn't have Tim and it came to a head in the summer when I was around every day. Millie found it too hard to take and began avoiding Mom. So, they came up with a solution and, as women often do, it was one that shared the communal wealth.

Fantastic for me, that's for sure.

I won't tell you about the following Saturday at the drive-in or the Sunday drive other than to say it was absolutely incredible. I'm sure you can imagine what happened. It was just the first of many subsequent movie and summer drive in the country experiences that ensued through the rest of the summer and fall, and beyond.

We also had lots of fun in our home on afternoons that I had off. They kind of blend into one another now. My real memory is of having a constant hardon but thankfully one that was consistently relieved. A year of constant, bare-backed fucking. Oh, those glory days.

The moms manipulated their two spouses, who knew each other but weren't friends, into becoming close pals. There were many fishing and hunting trips over the next few years where they were both gone for days at a time and we knew exactly when they would be home. I, of course, could never go because of work or college. Darn!

We also began that summer to have barbecues at each other's homes. The first one was at our place and still provides a searing set of memories for me today. Mom sent my dad and Tim's out to the barbecue to warm it up for at least ten minutes before putting the potatoes on and then to wait a half hour before following with the steaks.

Ah, the danger-piqued joys of slowly slipping my hard tool in and out of a man's wife from behind while she held her summer dress with one hand over her hips for me so my hands were free to twist and tug her nipples, while she sipped on her drink, hidden behind the counter as she leaned on it and watched her husband standing by the barbecue. A slow, languid fuck ten steps from getting caught.

Oh, and I should mention Mom's hand reaching around to cup and tickle my balls while the fingers of her other hand circled the base of my shaft, occasionally pulling me right out of Millie, teasing us both, before steering my cock back inside her friend. Mom would follow up by either slamming her pelvis into my ass or pressing me gently but firmly. I could never tell which was coming. Sometimes she kept me pressed in and others she pulled me back right away, sometimes all the way out as I mentioned above but usually only part way. She controlled us, governing the way I fucked Tim's mom.

And if that wasn't delicious enough, she was always whispering in my ear, issuing conditional promises like, "If you tease her right, you can do it our special way tonight."

I knew I'd "done it right" because the moms encouraged the dads to drink lots during and after dinner so mine wouldn't wake up to the loud moans and groans filling the house in tune with the movements of his son's cock in his wife's ass.

As soon as Tim's parents left, Mom sent Dad upstairs to bed. "Rick can help me clean up, dear."

He had no sooner disappeared than Millie knocked on the door, stepped inside and closed it, pushing her body hard on mine when she saw that Dad had already gone upstairs, shoving her tongue deep into my mouth for a long, fully entwined kiss. When Mom appeared behind us, issuing a "Umhmm," Millie broke off the kiss, laughed and whispered in my ear.

"Tease the shit of her tonight. She deserves it." She left to drive her husband home, but not without a final grope.

"Go check on your father," Mom instructed me, turning on her heel and walking toward the kitchen. I watched her go, hips swaying, each cheek taking its turn straining against the light material of her loosely skirted summer dress.

Dad was planted face-first on the bed, shirt and sandals off but shorts only pulled part way down, exposing his middle-aged, hairy ass. It was a shock to think that Mom was only six years younger than him. I walked down the stairs, trying to go slowly so I could savor what was coming, but failing.

Mom was standing in front of the side counter, where Millie had leaned earlier that evening with me and Mom behind her in a chain. She was still fully clothed. I walked up behind her, unbuttoning my summer shorts and letting them drop into a pile around my bare feet. My hand lifted high enough to hook my thumbs into the waistband of my underwear, pushing them down over my ass. I had to bend forward and lift the front to get them over my sky-hunting cock. Although I'd blown my load often lately, I still felt that I had a bad case of blue balls.

When I straightened up, Mom issued another instruction. She didn't wait for my report on Dad.

"Unzip me."

I found the little zipper under the hair at the nape of her neck and pulled it down the long length of her back, following the arc of her spine into the dip before the track swung out to end just above the swell of her buttocks, the crack leading to the joys below just starting to peek out beneath the zipper.

Mom waited, unmoving, not speaking. Delicately, I inserted my index fingers just under the shoulders of her dress and slipped it over her shoulders, slowing its fall down her arms, which she straightened until her hands were free, replacing them on the counter in front of her, out of my sight. I stooped to follow the dress down, over her hips and past her buttocks, unencumbered by panties, and down to her knees where I waited patiently, dress held up from the floor, until Mom stepped out of it, one foot at a time. I draped the dress over the counter to Mom's left side, eyes roaming up and down her naked body.

I reached around to cup Mom's bare tits, lifting their weight in my palms before slipping my fingers up to possess those long, stiff nipples I loved so much.

Mom tolerated barely a tweak before barking, "Don't touch me!"

I jerked my hands back, surprised, confused and, yes, hurt by her rebuke.

Within seconds, I saw that all was well when Mom's right hand swung into sight at her side, palm held up, fingers closed to contain a large handful of petroleum jelly.

"Put it on yourself first and then, very carefully, rub it on me." Her voice was all soft and feminine, in sharp contrast to her recent rebuke.

I dipped my finger into the bowl of her hand and dabbed some jelly onto the top of my helmeted soldier, smearing it around and under the head with my fingers, then returned for more to coat my shaft. I placed the next bit in a single gob on top of my tip and pressed it between her cheeks, pressing my fingers against the underside of my shaft to force it near her puckered hole.

She started whispering to me then as I retrieved gob after gob, smearing it between her cheeks in the same manner.

"Did you like pushing your cock under Millie's dress when her husband was right outside talking to your father, you nasty boy?"

Oh, god. She was in a mood.

"Did you like it when I pulled her panties down so you could slip it under her musky pussy?"

I didn't answer her queries. I knew she didn't really want me to. This was all part of it. We had already started. She was fucking my mind.

"What kind of slut would let you do that, let her son's teenaged friend push his cock into her cheating slit while she smiled at her husband, and then happily ate the steak he labored to cook while she was pushing her ass back, begging for more stiff cock?"

I scraped the last of it from her hand and loaded my cock, ready for the last application while she smeared the remains in her hand all over her tits. Spreading her cheeks, I guided my cock to her brownish opening.

"What kind of mother would help her friend cheat with her own son, and then let him shove his filthy, unwashed cock into her ass while her husband lay passed out on their marital bed?"

"You would," I gasped, pushing my cock into her, steadily overcoming the diminishing resistance in her well-used chute, letting loose the first loud groan of the night, but definitely not the last.

Mom leaned forward to make her asshole more readily available, pressing herself to the counter, but not before my hands managed to slip under her greasy tits to squeeze them just as the root of my cock crushed against her cheeks. Grinding around in a slow circle, I lifted her up onto her toes, letting my tip scrape the soft tissue of her inner chamber.

"Ohhhhhhh, godddd, you do that so well," Mom cried.

"What?" I begged the obvious.

"Fuck my ass," she moaned as her pucker tried to hold my retreating pole.

"Do you like the way I do it?" I asked as her pucker switched direction to desperately chase after my thrusting cock as it blasted upward, lifting her onto her toes and then off, reaming her slippery bunghole.

"I love it, baby," Mom groaned. "God help me, I love it."

She grunted my name with each subsequent thrust.

I don't know how we managed to stay upright but we did. Afterward, I could see a huge crease across Mom's abdomen where she met the edge of the counter. Women are tough man. I couldn't have taken that and I also knew her moans weren't groans of pain. She'd taken it all like a woman.

That scenario was repeated several times that summer, at our house and Tim's. Once, on the way home from a barbecue there, Mom leaned over and sucked me off while Dad lay passed out in the backseat of his car. It was as we were crossing through the almost empty main street, about eleven at night. Mom just leaned over, rubbed my crotch for a moment, then deftly opened my pants and pulled me out. Her mouth slipped over my head, tongue swirling around, then pulled off and flicked all over my throbbing helmet. As we passed in front of the deserted theater, Mom pushed her lips tightly over my shaft right down to the root, munching all the way until her throat encountered my head, and enveloped it. I managed to get down our street without hitting any parked cars. The car jerked to a halt when I prematurely slammed it into Park and grabbed the hair at the back of Mom's head, shoving her down into my thrusting hips, my cum exploding into her mouth. I had stopped in the nick of time.

I still managed to fuck her ass after getting Dad into bed, dangerously taking her on the carpet in her bedroom, unable to wait after she came out of their bathroom, totally naked with her ass already greased up. I realized there was method in her madness. She wanted me to last, so she made sure I could on the way home. Although there had been lots of clandestine groping at Millie's, I hadn't actually been able to get enough time to fuck her.

What an incredible woman Mom was. The more time passed the more I couldn't be near her without being hard.

BTW, I never did take Millie's ass, or any other woman's for that matter. That was something truly special shared only between Mom and me. Strangely, Millie never offered though she knew I was doing Mom that way. I don't think she was afraid to try it, nothing scared her. I guess she just realized there were certain boundaries you don't cross.
​

* * * * * * *​

Tim finally came home but I was out of town with friends and he left before I could get home. He only stayed for two days. It wasn't anything to do with me fucking his mom, he didn't find out about that. According to everyone who saw him, old friends and even his mom, he wasn't the same person. He was different somehow, uncharacteristically moody. He left abruptly, without saying a word.

Tim didn't show up for another two years. By then, he was a Sargent in the special forces. We had a few beers together in a local bar where several other guys who were also just back from the Nam were drinking. They kept their distance, according Tim a strange respect as soon they saw some kind of insignia on his uniform. It was almost like they were in awe of him but at the same time wary, even afraid. I mentioned it to Tim but he just brushed it off.

"Fuck it," he said, something he said a lot in the few days he was home.

He never talked about fighting in Vietnam, but I had overheard those guys mentioning Cambodia and Laos after they backed away.

That was the last time I saw Tim. He never came back. Oh, he didn't get killed. He became a mercenary and Millie got postcards about once a year and then less often, never a letter, from a variety of countries in Africa, Asia, and Latin America, wherever there was trouble.

I continued having fun with Tim's mom, often feeling nervous about him finding out and not liking the idea. But hey, if you were presented with Millie's willing mouth, open legs, and quivering bottom, what would you have done?

It stopped when I met Laura and it became evident she would be the one for me. For mom at least. I did stray a few times with Millie on visits home. That woman just wouldn't be denied once her mind was set.

So that's it. I fucked my head off and never got caught.

But that's not the end of the story, not quite anyway.
​