Well, That Backfired 2_(0)



The moans and screams of my teenage daughter flow from her open bedroom window and into the backyard. The neighbors give me amused expressions while I hurriedly run to the back door and fumble with the keys. I flush beat-red with embarrassment as I battle the door’s broken latch to the soundtrack of Laurie wailing her ecstasy above me. I curse under my breath and wrestle with the stubborn metal, feeling the neighbor’s judging eyes taking me in. This wouldn’t be nearly as bad if Laurie kept it down, but holy shit, she’s a screamer! Was I ever that obnoxious in high school? Yeah, I definitely was, but at least I had the wherewithal to close the fucking window!. I grit my teeth and finally manage to spring the fucking latch. I swing the backdoor open and run up the stairs. Her screams subside as I reach the top step, and I take a moment to breathe and collect myself. I assume her and Ryan have heard my rapid ascent up the steps, and are now hurriedly getting beneath the covers. I’m not the kind of mom who barges into her daughter’s room when I know she’s in the act, so I wait until she’s had enough time to cover up. After a painful minute, I figure I’ve waited long enough, so I put on my best mom-face, and grasp the door knob.

“How hard is it to close your fucking-” the words stop dead in my throat. Apparently, they hadn’t heard me coming up the stairs; and by “they,” I mean Laurie, her best friend, Eleanor, and her brother, Tom. My son, Tom. They’re all naked, all lying on the bed, and all staring at me with the same expression of horror that’s on my face. Actually, Eleanor’s expression is more of amusement than anything.

“Hey, Mrs. B!” she laughs jovially at me, “You know, knocking is usually the polite thing to do.”

I open my mouth to say something, but the words stick in my throat. I simply stare from Laurie, to Tom. Laurie’s gaze falls almost immediately, but Tom stares back. His shocked expression has relaxed into a cold, hard, gaze. It’s a look I’ve never seen him wear before; it almost says “so, we’re fucking; what are you going to do about it?” It’s disturbing, but this whole goddamn situation is disturbing. No, “disturbing” is the wrong word for it; this is a family-ruining, life-destroying, you-failed-so-hard-as-a-mother, catastrophe. My heart sinks slowly into my chest as the realization weighs on me. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but there’s nothing to be said. There’s no magical combination of words that can fix this. I give my children a final, dismayed look, step into the hallway, and close the door.


Oh, man; this is just too good! Tom and Laurie are staring at each other, their faces communicating their horror in stark detail. I’m nestled between them, enjoying the warmth of their bodies almost as much as I’m enjoying their discomfort. In case you haven’t realized this about me, I’m a twisted, sexual deviant. I need the wrong and the extreme to really get me off. I was worried that after Tom seduced Laurie, the two would start a boring, brother-sister romance. Once you get passed the taboo of the relationship, there’s really nothing that special about two related teenagers fucking each other… unless they get caught. Well, they’ve been caught, and by the worst person possible. Now, the possibilities really open up.

“Tom,” Laurie whispers to her brother in a shaking voice, “what the fuck are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Tom says grimly, though his voice doesn’t bare any of Laurie’s fear, “this is… really fucked.”

“Should we…” Laurie gulps, “should we move away together? You’re already almost in college, and Lincoln isn’t too far away. I could move out with you and still finish my senior year.”

“That’s an idea,” Tom muses, “I’d have to transfer out of the dorms and get an apartment, but we could do it.”

“You guys are pussies!” I laugh, catching the Baker siblings by surprise. They seemed to have forgotten I was here, and I demand to be noticed. “You guys are just going to bail on your single mother and leave her here alone? What kind of children are you?!”

“She’ll never speak to us again!” Laurie hisses, “She’ll kick us out anyway!”

“You don’t know that,” I reply, “you have no idea what’s going through her head right now.”

“I think we have a pretty good idea of what she’s thinking,” Tom says, and then brushes a strand of red hair over my ear and looks me in the eye, “but enlighten us, Ellie; what is she thinking?”

“That this is all her fault,” I say, “parents never blame their children for their actions; they always blame themselves. And right now, you two are planning on abandoning her. How do you think she’ll take that?”

I see the shame begin to spread across Laurie and Tom’s faces, and I smile internally. Manipulation has always been my greatest art, and today, I have a chance to paint my masterpiece.

“She’s right,” Tom says to Laurie, “we can’t leave her; she’ll blame herself for everything.”

“But what do we do?” Laurie says softly, the fear leaving her voice, and the sadness taking over, “How can we look her in the eye after this?”

“I could talk to her,” I say in my best ‘I’m just trying to help’ voice, “I could be the intermediary for the three of you, and smooth things out before you meet.”

“That’s an idea,” Tom says, “she’s known you your entire life, and you’re Laurie’s best friend; she’d be willing to speak honestly to you.”

“Can you do it?” Laurie asks me, her eyes full of hope.

“Sure, I can,” I smile easily, “I’ll get her calm and collected, and then the four of us will have a nice, long, talk. Once she gets over the shock of it all, she’ll accept the situation, and you guys can move on as a happy family.”

“You make it sound so easy.” Tom mutters incredulously.

“I can be very persuasive,” I smile wickedly to him, “as you two well know.”

Tom smiles at that. He glances over my head at Laurie, and Laurie nods.

“Ok,” Laurie says, and smiles for the first time, “sounds like a plan. Thank you, Ellie.”

“It’s nothing,” I laugh, shaking my hand in dismissal, “you two get dressed, and come when I call for you. This’ll all blow over in a week at the most.”

I get off the bed, making a show of stretching and shifting my hips for the Bakers. I glance casually over my shoulder, and smile when I see them both gawking; it seems Laurie has developed quite the taste for the fairer sex. I slip on one of her signature cut-off tops, and cram my full ass into a pair of her leggings. The bottom of my ample, pale, bust protrudes from the frayed hem of her tank, and her spandex stretches dangerously as it tries to contain me. I give myself a once-over in the mirror, and then walk out the door without a look back. I strut across the hallway to Mrs. Sierra Thomas Baker’s room and smile to myself. God, that was easy. Puh-lease, Tom; do you really think I’m going in there to fix the beautiful mess I created? Do you really think this ends in a wholesome, normal, family? Laurie is a bit naive, but you know me better. Did Da Vinci crumple up the Mona Lisa halfway through? Did Beethoven just say, ‘fuck it,’ after the first movement of Moonlight Sonata? I’ve just started my masterpiece, and now I’m going to finish it.


My thumb slips on the flint of my Bic as I shakenly try to light a cigarette. I haven’t had a smoke in years, but right now, I need one. What does it matter anyway? All the rules I’ve imposed on myself, all the classes I’ve taken, all the sacrifices I’ve made, all amounted to my teenage children fucking each other. Smoking in the house hardly seems like an egregious infraction now. A knock on the door nearly causes me to jump through the ceiling. I can’t see them now! I can’t look in their eyes!

“Mrs. B?” Eleanor’s voice calls from the other side of the door, “can I come in?”

I breathe a long sigh of relief, and manage to steady my hand enough to light the end of my smoke. I take a deep, sweet inhale of the addictive fire, and blow out, feeling my electrified nerves calm.

“Come in, Ellie.” I say to the door.

Laurie’s voluptuous, ginger, best-friend walks in wearing her clothes. They are way too small for her, but I guess Ellie didn’t have much in the way of options.

“Are you to be the intermediary between my children and I?” I ask her as I put the square between my lips.

“You got it,” Eleanor smiles, and gestures to the pack in my hands, “can I bum a smoke?”

I hand her a cigarette, light it between her red lips, and then sit down at the foot of the bed. She sits next to me, and we smoke in subdued silence.

“So…” Eleanor says, leaning back on the bed, “this whole thing is pretty fucked.”

“Yeah,” I concur, “but I’m guessing you don’t mind in the least,” I turn to her and give her a sharp look, “do you?”

“Oh?” Eleanor replies with a raised eyebrow, “you think this is all my fault?”

“You’ve always been a corrupting influence on Laurie,” I say, my voice brimming with rage, “and you were right in the middle of it. What am I supposed to think?”

“Sure, I was there,” Eleanor smirks, “but this was a long time coming, Sierra, and you know it.”

Eleanor stares at me with her sharp green eyes, and her gaze doesn’t falter for a moment. My eyes fall to my lap, and I feel the truth in her words sting me to the core. This was a long time coming, because I’m their mother. The hint of tears begin to well in my eyes, and I fight to push them back; I fight to convince myself that it’s not all my fault.

“So,” I say, failing to keep my voice from breaking, “you’re saying I’m a complete failure as a mother.”

“Not a complete failure,” Eleanor says, not bothering to console me, “but there were definitely some missteps.”

“Like?” I hiss venomously, staring darkly at her, “What do you know about it? What could a stupid slut like you know about raising children?”

“I’m the stupid slut?” Eleanor laughs, “I’ve heard stories about you, Sierra; you were practically a sex addict. You were a year younger than me when you had Tom, and just a bit older than me when you had Laurie. The only saving grace for you, is that you somehow managed to have them both from the same man.”

Her words are cruel and full of malice, but my anger doesn’t swell. No, she’s just telling me the hard truth. She’s not sugarcoating bullshit (something I’ve been doing for the past eighteen years), she’s laying it out as it is. My mind scrambles for a way to save face, but my reconciliatory thoughts are tangled with the harsh reality flowing from Eleanor’s red lips.

“I stopped,” I say in a shaking voice, “after Bradley left us, I didn’t go running out for someone else. I didn’t fall back on my old habits.”

“You should have,” Eleanor says, “you should have gotten someone to be their father.”

“I knew I couldn’t,” I mumble, pursing the smoke between my lips, “I had to control myself and become the mom they needed.”

“You couldn’t trust yourself to stay loyal to one man, so you forsook men all together,” Eleanor replies mercilessly, “So, instead of fixing your problem, you ran away from it.”

“I stayed abstinent through my twenties!” I growl at Eleanor, “I sacrificed the best years of my life for my children!”

“And look at the result.” Eleanor says, placing her cigarette between her lips, “all that self-denial, all that sacrifice, and how did it turn out? How noble of you, Sierra, to shackle your children to yourself.”

I stare dumbly at Eleanor, and feel the weight of her words crushing my chest. My gaze falls back to the floor, and this time, I can’t keep the tears from coming. She’s right; I should have sought help, I should have fixed myself when I had the chance. Hot, saline, water pours from my welling eyes and falls in little droplets to the carpet. The trickle becomes a flood, and before I know it, I’m reeling forward in the throes of sorrow, and spilling eighteen years of regret onto the floor. I feel a pair of soft, comforting, hands delicately touch my shoulders, and the heat of someone’s body embracing me affectionately from behind.

“Let it out, Sierra,” Eleanor whispers in my ear, “you’ve been holding in the poison for too long.”

“I knew I should have gotten help!” I cry, my diaphragm heaving in bouts of grief, “But I kept telling myself I didn’t need it!”

“And how did that effect Tom?” Eleanor whispers as her hands begin to tenderly massage my shoulders.

“I smothered him!” I cry, “I babied him well passed his age, because I didn’t want another man to leave me! Not my son!”

“And Laurie?” Eleanor asks kindly.

“I stayed distant!” I bawl, feeling the catharsis of grief-fueled release compelling the truth from me, “I didn’t want her to end up like me, so I kept her at arm’s length, when I should have held her close! Now she’s gone off and fucked her brother because it was the only way for her to find closeness in the family!”

“There, there, Sierra,” Eleanor’s sweet voice sings in my ear as she gently guides me to lie down, “admitting fault is the first step. Just relax, and let me take care of you.”

Eleanor’s hands prod me gently on my sides, and I turn over onto my stomach. She straddles me above the hips, and sinks her wonderful fingers into the congested knotting of my back. She sings a soft, soothing melody under her breath as her elegant digits work tenderly into the tense muscles. I feel more and more at ease with her, and I begin to relax, and let my guard down.

“You were a little off on your assessment,” Eleanor’s musical voice whispers, “but I can see where you’re coming from.”

“What do you mean?” I sniffle.

“Laurie didn’t seek out attention from Tom,” Eleanor says, “it was the other way around, actually.”

“Tom?” I ask incredulously, lazily raising my head just enough to look back at her. Eleanor looks up from the massage she’s giving me and nods with a crooked smile strewn across her red lips.

“Tom confessed to me that he wanted Laurie,” Eleanor says, her fingers working down my spine, “and after a little persuasion on my part, Laurie found that she wanted Tom as well.”

“I didn’t think he had it in him.” I smile sadly, and rest my cheek back on the bed, “My sweet boy…”

“Not so sweet,” Eleanor laughs melodically, “and hardly a boy any longer.”

“And Laurie’s already a woman,” I sigh, “I know it’s a cliché to say it, but it really does seem like just yesterday they were goofy toddlers, playing in the sandbox.”

Eleanor sings a soft, soothing melody that I can barely hear under her breath. The wordless lullaby floats into my ear and caresses my troubled mind as her fingers unwind the tension of my posture, leaving warm, loose muscle in their gentle wake. She sinks her thumbs beneath my shoulder blades, and graciously separates the entwined tendons between them. I feel the bridging tension of my shoulders release, and they sink easily into the bedding. She presses her palms along the arch of my spine, and slides congested muscle from bone. Warm, fluid, tingles permeate along the taut sinew of my back, until the fibers are lithe and flowing. Her fingers impress the tight reaches above my hips, and unravel the snarl of clogged fascia. She leaves me gelatinous and fluid, and I feel as though I could spill into the soft bedding from between my bones. Her delicate hands slide beneath my waistband, and I don’t stop her. gaziantep evi olan escort I hum a gracious murmur, and feel a moan linger on my lips. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched intimately, and her seduction is more than my fragile mind can take. I’m a slave to her gentleness; a prisoner to her comfort. I’m broken, and need someone to fix me. I’m vulnerable, and need someone to protect me. Eleanor will fix me, Eleanor will protect me. Eleanor will make it all better.

“You know,” Eleanor says, leaning forward and breathing the words into my ear, “this doesn’t have to be the end of your relationship with them.”

“It doesn’t?” I ask, feeling a glimmer of hope rising in my chest. Eleanor will fix me.

“No,” she smiles warmly, and traces a single finger down my wet cheek, “but it will take some adjusting on your part. You can’t change the past, but you can still decide the future.”

“What do I have to do?” I ask. Eleanor will protect me.

“You just have to see them as they are,” Eleanor says, her warm smile turning sly, “you just have to accept them, and with a little help from me, they’ll accept you.”

“How?” I ask, feeling the glimmer of hope swell. Eleanor will make it all better.

“Stop hiding yourself, Sierra,” Eleanor whispers, her face brushing cheek-to-cheek against me, “stop denying what you really want.”

Eleanor’s hands move from my hips, and push beneath my skirt. Her fingers grasp the fat of my backside and spread me wide open. I’m too enamored in her trance to react, too trapped in her comfort to deny her. Touch me, Eleanor; touch me on the inside.

“Do you understand what I’m asking?” Eleanor whispers, her lips so close to mine. She holds me open with one hand, and reaches beneath me with the other. A single, elegant finger runs along the moist, tender, slit between my legs. She barely brushes me, but her touch awakens a hunger so ravenous, it’s unbearable.

“You want to make love to me?” I ask hopefully, my eyes drooping into an expression I haven’t worn in over a decade. I breathe in Eleanor’s breath, and taste the hint of her mouth on my tongue.

“I’m just the messenger, Sierra,” Eleanor smiles, her single finger running tortuously along me, never providing the penetration I crave, “this is something you’ll need to do yourself.”

“I’m-I’m…” a moan slips through my words, “I’m their mother! I couldn’t!”

“Yes, you can.” Eleanor says through a heavy, lecherous breath, and presses a finger hard against my clit. A shock of satisfaction ratchets up my spine, and my head rises from the bed; my eyes wide, my lips parted, and my mouth moaning. Eleanor’s luscious lips press to my neck and covetously suck the smooth skin of my throat. I feel her seductive control over me seep into the furthest reaches of my mind, and I melt in her lustful wake.

“After what they’ve done,” Eleanor whispers, her breath hot on my neck, her fingers torturing me with pleasure, “there are only two paths for you: spend the rest of your life ignoring the elephant in the room, and grow increasingly distant until you lose them, or join them, and spend the rest of your life sharing your body with them, as a mother, and a lover. What do you choose, Sierra?”

I moan, cry and shift desperately under Eleanor’s control. The need grows so hot and hungry that it consumes every thought it my mind. The transient voices of rationality give way to the carnal screams of Eleanor’s twisted desire, until I can no longer distinguish between her manipulation, and my own womanly needs.

I can’t do it! Yes I can. It’s wrong! So wrong. I don’t want to! Don’t lie to yourself. They’re my children! They can be more than just that. My baby boy… Your handsome son. My little girl… Your beautiful daughter. My handsome son… His strong hands. My beautiful daughter… Her full thighs. His strong hands… Gripping your ass. Her full thighs… Entwined with your own. They’re so young… A chance to be young again with them. They have each other… They could have you. A happy family. A happy family.

“Ellie…” I moan, biting my lip and looking pleadingly into her eyes, “get them in here.”


Hey reader, I’d like to pause the story for a bit to describe what I’m looking at right now: Sierra Thomas Baker. It didn’t take much convincing to get her out of her clothes, but it did take a bit of gentle prodding to get her into the clothes I wanted. She’s such an emotional wreck right now, I could convince her to do anything, but I digress. Sierra looks a lot like Laurie. She has long, brown, curly hair, a cleft chin, a cut jaw line, big, blue eyes, a pointed noise, and high cheekbones. Where mother and daughter differ, is the body. Laurie is lean and athletic, but Sierra is built more like me; D-cup tits that jut perfectly from her chest, and an ass you could balance a wine bottle on. Even at thirty-four, her curves don’t show a hint of sag. She’s got a butterfly tattoo on her lower back (which is just adorable), and a mole next to her right eye that adds an exotic appeal to her. And reader, I can only hope that after two kids, my pussy looks as good as hers.

Anyway, I think it’s about time the Baker siblings reconciled with their mom, don’t you? I’ll let Laurie describe the clothes I put on her; I think you’re going to like it.


“Laurie, Tom!” Eleanor’s voice calls down the hallway, “Your mother would like to speak with you!”

I give Tom a nervous glance, and he smiles and gives my thigh a comforting squeeze. I check myself in the mirror to make sure I’m dressed appropriately. I hope the pink sundress Mom bought me last year will be enough of a nostalgia-boost to get me in her good graces, but I doubt it. I sigh, and nod to Tom. We stand up, link our fingers together, and walk hand-in-hand down the hallway. I open Mom’s bedroom door, and gasp.

I’ve never seen my mother naked before. I’ve never so much as seen her upper thigh. Right now, my mother isn’t completely naked, but it would have been better if she was. She’s wearing a pair of fishnet stockings, black stiletto heels, a black choker, and nothing else. Eleanor holds my mother from behind; her spandex-clad legs encircling my mother’s bare ass, her chin resting on my mother’s naked shoulder, and her pale hands caressing the glistening, leaking slit between my mother’s legs. She whispers something in my mother’s ear, and Mom nods nervously and looks up at us. Eleanor’s smiling, green eyes linger on my naked mother a little longer, and then rise slowly to mine.

“Your mom and I had quite a productive chat,” Eleanor smirks at me as she teases my mother’s pussy, “and we concluded that the best move going forward, is to slightly alter the dynamic of your relationship. Do you like her outfit?”

I give Eleanor a hateful, dagger-sharp look. She returns it with mirthful amusement and a shit-eating grin. This is what I get for trusting Eleanor fucking O’Reilly with a delicate family matter.

“Tom,” Mom says to my brother, her voice quivering in nervousness, “it will be difficult for me to think of you as more than my son, but I’ll try if you will. You’ve… you’ve grown so much; you look so much like your father. Can… can you think of me as more than just your mother?”

Tom gives Mom a studious look. His eyes travel down the length of her body, and I see her shiver under his gaze. Was it a reflex of fear, or excitement, I wonder? Probably both; he had the same effect on me.

“Yes,” Tom says with an easy smile, and begins to undo his belt, “I already am.”

I give my brother a shocked expression, but he just shrugs his shoulders, and continues disrobing.

“Laurie,” Mom says, her voice shaking with desire as Eleanor tortures her with teasing caresses, “you’re a beautiful woman with a kind heart. I kept you distant, because I was afraid of how I might influence you if we were too close. Will you be close with me now?”

Eleanor’s green eyes watch me with a calculating, challenging expression. Are you going to fuck this up? they seem to ask, Are you going to pussy-out? I turn my attention back to Mom, and take her in. God, she looks like me. Her breasts are bigger, and her ass is thicker, but add seventeen years to me, and you get her. Objectively, I can say she’s attractive, but do I want her? As my eyes soak in every inch of her near-nakedness, I realize, I do. I’ve changed; Tom and Eleanor have changed me, and I like the change. There’s not another moment’s consideration; I am going to fuck my mother.

I curl my fingers around the hem of my sundress and give my Mom a devilish grin. She returns my smirk with a wide-eyed, delighted smile, as if I gave her a touching gift for Christmas. I plant my knees onto the bed, and crawl over to her like a stalking lioness; my head stooped low, my shoulders protruding from my back, my hips swaying behind me, and my sundress slipping off them.

“She’s a little nervous,” Eleanor smiles companionably to me, and compels Mom’s legs to spread, “so be nice with her.”

“Are you scared, Mommy?” I whisper lustfully, a broad, wicked grin strewn about my face. She nods, smiles meekly, and opens her legs just a bit more. My feline-like crawl stops when I reach her feet. I slink my body upward, toss my auburn curls over my shoulder, and glance back at Tom. He strokes himself at the foot of the bed, and gives me a smiling nod; ladies first. I turn my gaze back to Mom, and usher Eleanor’s torturing fingers from her. I run my fingertips back and forth along the crease of her inner thighs, inching ever closer to the flower between her quivering legs. I see her slit glisten and leak, and her petals redden, and swell. I feel my mouth water at the sight of it, and I raise my eyes to hers. She bites her lip and hums a shaking, needful tone through her nose as she stares up at me with apprehensive eyes. Her fearful expression finally breaks, and she cries out with wanton abandon.

“Please, Laurie!” she nearly screams, “I can’t take any more!”

“First,” I giggle, “I want you to kiss me. A real kiss, Mommy.”

Mom gives me an anxious look, and then pulls me gently forward by the strap of my dress. Her full, pink lips are trembling; she’s still not entirely sure about this. I know the feeling all too well, and I know that it takes a firm hand to push the conflicting emotions away. I grab the back of her head, and force it forward. Our lips meet in a mush of tender flesh, and I feel Mom grow rigid in shock. I part her mouth with my own, and push my tongue inside. She gasps through her nose at the suddenness of my invasion, and I pull back a bit to ease her into it. I flick my tongue teasingly across hers, and invite her to play with me. Her mouth remains static for a second, and then joins in. Her lips suck gently, and her tongue slides tentatively along mine. At first, it’s obvious she hasn’t kissed anyone for a long time, but her old skills soon come back to her, and unexpected passion flows from her mouth. The only way I can describe it, is by saying it’s the kind of kiss you’d expect your mother to give you in the heat of lust; caring, tender, but still carnal. After a long moment, we part with a string of saliva bridging our mouths, and our eyes connecting above it.

“Where did you learn to kiss like that?” I whisper to her though an easy smile as I trace my fingers along her jaw.

“Experience,” Mom smirks crookedly, “you kiss like a whore, by the way.”

“She practiced on me before she ever kissed a boy,” Eleanor chuckles, “so, my bad.”

“You know you liked it,” I laugh and crinkle my nose at Mom, “and you’ll like it even more in a second.”

My thumbs hook along the straps of my dress, and I let if fall off me. Mom’s eyes unabashedly take me; her blue irises running greedily down the length of my nubile figure. That’s the look I wanted to see from her; pure, vulgar, desire. I’m not your little girl anymore, Mommy, and now you that you finally know that, I think it’s time to put you in your place. You didn’t think you could just jump in to what Tom and I have, and be my equal, did you? No, you’re going to be the bottom bitch. Playtime’s over.

“Eleanor,” I smile to my redheaded friend, “hold her arms back.”

Eleanor complies instantly, an excited look strewn across her face. She locks my mother’s arms in her elbows, plants her palms on the back of Mom’s head, and pulls back in a nelson hold. Mom’s lecherous expression flashes to one of fear in an instant, and I grin broadly.

“You didn’t think you could just join us and start on my level, did you?” I sneer as I mush my mother’s cheeks together with a clamping hand, “Did Ellie tell you how they initiated me?”

Mom’s eyes are wide, her lips are squished open, and her body is trembling. I savor the power I have over her, and feel it’s seduction coarse through my veins.

“They raped me,” I smile, and see the horror brim in her eyes, “Ellie held me down, and Tom fucked my ass until I loved it. I bet you thought this was a cute, little, romance, didn’t you?”

My other hand moves down her pelvis, and then rests on the soft, moist petals below. Mom thrashes for a second, and Ellie wrestles her into submission.

“Ever since they did that to me, all I can think about is doing it to someone else.” I whisper, lowering my face until our eyes are inches apart, “Thank you, dearest mother, for giving me the opportunity.”

I run my lower hand through her slit and lather my fingers with her juices, but I don’t penetrate her. Instead, I trace my fingertips through her petals, along her taint, and rest them on her tight, pink, rim. My sadistic smile grows as I see the realization dawn on her. Her blue eyes quiver in terror, and she mouths a single, soundless, ‘please, stop,’ through her deformed lips. I lower my face to hers, whisper ‘no,’ and lick my new whore. My tongue runs down her neck, over her nipple, along her abdomen, and through her mound. I hover my lips over her pussy, and inhale the sweet, intoxicating scent of her. I can practically feel my pupils dilate as her hormones rush into my primal mind. I take a last glance up at her, lower my lips, and push my fingers inside.


My daughter is raping me, and I love it. Her fist pushes inside my ass, and I feel my rim stretch to a thin, pink membrane that twitches as a fleshy cuff about her bottom knuckles. I scream in pain, and she sedates my agony with her tongue. She invades me, and tastes the hole she came from. I gasp, stop struggling, and rest my head between Eleanor’s supple breasts as I watch Laurie do her work. Ok, Sweetie; let’s see what you’ve got. Her nose presses into the puffy folds of my swelled lips, and her tongue curls against my ceiling. She slides it back and forth along my insides, and I twitch and spasm just like she wants me to. Her fist pushes in all the way, and my sphincter envelopes her wrist. I growl in appreciative lechery as I feel her knuckles deform the tender channel of my sinful hole. She smiles around my moist folds, and curls her fingers forward until their indentation presses along her invading tongue. My entire body arches from the bed in an involuntary reaction to her pleasure. My hips buck, my pelvis lifts, and my back curves against the subduing redhead behind me. Laurie rises with me, her tongue writhing relentlessly, her fist pushing methodically, and her lips sucking so sweetly. That’s gaziantep fetiş escort it, Sweetie; eat your Mommy.


Mmm, Mommy, you’re delicious. The sweet tang of her nectar fills my mouth as I slurp her lustful secretion. I can feel her pulse through the taut reaches of her rectum, though its rhythm is being lost in the noise of her pleasured convulsions. I push my fist deeper, and her resistances uncoil against my advancing hand and embrace me tightly in a vulgar squeeze. I glance up and see that she is no longer shrieking in pain and fear, but crying pathetic moans and looking down at me with half-mast, lustful eyes. She took this a lot better than I did; perhaps I underestimated her. I push my fist a little further, sure that she’ll give me the reaction I want, but she just bites her lip, shifts her weight on her heels, and slides her body forward, taking my fist deeper by her own volition. She moans as each inch of my forearm disappears inside her, until it’s buried halfway to the elbow. Her blue eyes stare teasingly down at me, and one of them closes in a smug wink. That won’t do at all.


I should not have done that. The moment the lashes of my eye closed, Laurie’s expression turned dark. She narrows her eyes, removes her tongue, and gives me a wicked smile. Her fist pulls out to the bottom knuckle, and then pushes in again, and again and again. My eyes flash open, my head reels back, and I scream in pain and uncontrollable pleasure. Eleanor laughs musically in my ear as my daughter assaults me with a ratcheting barrage of deep, anal thrusts. My resistances break and close around her, and she buries her knuckles into the moist, tender flesh of my rectum. Her hand finds virgin territory, and the untouched nerves scream their excruciating euphoria up my spine. My pelvis shoots upward, compelled by her forceful hand, and I thrust against her in an involuntary bout of manic delight. Tears film my eyes, sweat glistens my body, and all I can do in my chaotic delirium is beg her to fuck me harder. She complies, and twists her hand as she forces it deeper, causing a pink sheath my anal flesh to cling to her wrist as she withdraws. I sob in broken ecstasy, and sway on my heels to take her deeper. Laurie is finally satisfied, and she rewards my submissive ardency by lowering her smiling mouth back to my frothing petals. She wraps her pale lips around my engorged clit, and sucks it inside her. My head reels forward, my mouth falls agape, and a breathless, choked sound spills from my throat. The corners of her mouth quirk deviously, and she raises her head, stretching the tender bud of my flower between her pursed lips. My heart pounds in my chest, my breasts heave to my expanding diaphragm, and my lips quiver in the imminent tremble of my climax. Her tongue presses between her sucking lips, and I burst.


“Oh-fuck-oh-fuck-oh-fuck!” Mom screams, her head tilting to the ceiling, her eyes brimming with tears of pleasure and pain, and her back arching as her entire body tenses. She seems to vibrate, locked in a spread-legged paralysis, and then she squirts all over her daughter. Laurie laughs gleefully, places her mouth over the fountain, and drinks her mother’s nectar. Eleanor releases Mom’s arms just in time for Mom to place her palms on the back of her daughter’s head, and push her deep between her legs. She screams a final time, and then collapses into the redhead’s embrace. Laurie parts from her mother’s pussy, strings of viscous juices clinging to her lips and chin. She licks her lips, and slowly pulls her fist out. A bud of red, glistening, coiled flesh flows from my mother’s gape, and she tenses up in abject pleasure.

“Look at this,” Laurie giggles to me as she places a single finger inside Mom’s rosebud, “isn’t it pretty?”

“Oh my god!” Mom laughs through her moans, “Laurie, you turned me inside out!”

“Doesn’t it feel good?” Laurie smiles up, and wraps her fingers around the tender, squishing, bud. Mom sighs in appreciation and nods. Eleanor eyes my sister, crouches next to her, and studies the rosy protrusion of inner-flesh.

“It looks delicious,” Eleanor whispers, licking her lips, “Laurie, would you care to share it with me?”

“I’d love to.” Laurie smiles to Eleanor, and then glances up to Mom, “Is dinner ready, Mommy?”

“I’m not sure I trust you anymore, Sweetie.” Mom giggles, “I’m afraid you’ll bite.”

“Maybe a little.” Laurie smiles up, and then glances at Eleanor. The two teenagers part their lips, choose their angles, and begin to suck the prolapse into their mouths. Mom tilts her head back, rests her hands on the tops of their heads, and then looks at me with blissful eyes.

“Is it my turn?” I ask with an easy smile.

“I don’t know, Tom,” Mom smirks, “is my initiation over?”

“I actually didn’t know we had an initiation process,” I chuckle, “I think Laurie just wanted to abuse you.”

“Guilty,” Laurie smiles bashfully, which looks rather strange with her tongue in Mom’s ass, “sorry, Mommy.”

“You were just being assertive, Sweetie,” Mom says affectionately to her daughter, “which is a valuable trait in a young woman.”

“Still teaching us lessons, huh?” I laugh at Mom.

“You’ve still got a lot to learn,” Mom smiles, her eyes levelling in a lustful gaze, “let me teach you a few things.”

I climb over to Mom as she gets on her knees. Laurie and Eleanor continue their lustful meal as Mom eyes her own. I lie down in front of her, and she slinks between my legs, and rests her head on my right thigh. She wraps a cool hand around my throbbing cock, and lets out a needful sigh.

“Mmm,” she whispers as her hand travels covetously down my length, “it’s been so long, Tom.”

She nestles her nose against the base of my cock, and gives my balls a tender kiss. I feel her take an indulgent inhale of my loins, and then I feel her shuddering exhale against the loose flesh of my sack. She looks at the engorged member in her hand almost worshipfully, then places her tongue flat against its underside, and licks me from base to tip. I groan in satisfaction, and her blue eyes watch me with an endearing glint.

“When I’m done with you, Pumpkin,” Mom whispers my old nickname, her lips hovering just above my tip, “you won’t be able to go a day without me. I’m not making the same mistake with you that I made with your father; I’ll make sure you never leave me.”

Her pale, full lips purse, and press to my head. She glances at me from the tops of her eyes, and then takes me all the way in. Holy shit. Her tongue curls around my girth and runs along the underside of my shaft as her lips suck with loving voracity. Her throat constricts when I reach it, but she doesn’t gag; she takes me easily. Her lips puff around me, and then squish against the flesh of my pelvis. She rotates them, circling my girth as her throat wraps around me, and I almost come right there. She feels the excited throbbing of my loins, and closes one of her blue eyes in a teasing wink; she knows how good she is.

She pulls up, her lips sucking so hard they stretch from her mouth. It’s as if she’s trying to will the cum from my cock, and it takes everything inside me to hold back. She stops at my dome, licks around the crease of my head, and then devours me again. Her lips twist and pull with every sensual pass down my length, prompting wet, slippery, tones to permeate from her mouth. Behind her, I see Laurie and Eleanor twisting their lips passionately around her prolapse. The pleasure they’re giving her is apparent in her eyes, and she translates that feeling into the ardency of her lustful consumption. When I feel the churning in my balls, and the pressure in my loins, she stops. She gives me a final, wet, suck, and then withdraws her mouth with a low, lecherous hum. She licks the precum from my tip, and smiles at the taste.

“You’re such a big boy, Pumpkin,” Mom giggles, “but you have the young man’s curse of getting a little too excited.”

“Well,” I smile wryly, “I can’t really use my go-to method of thinking about you naked to stop myself.”

“I guess not!” Mom laughs, and turns back to Laurie and Eleanor, “You girls run along for a while; I need some alone time with my son.”

Laurie smiles at me from behind Mom, and pushes her prolapse back inside. Mom eyes roll to whites, and she shivers in pleasure. The two girls give me a parting smirk, and then turn on each other. Before long, Laurie has pulled Eleanor’s leggings to her knees, and has her face planted firmly between the ginger’s pale, full, cheeks. Eleanor in turn, has Laurie’s legs spread wide in front of her, and her lips deformed against my sister’s curly mound. Mom snakes her body upward, and straddles me about the thighs. I run my hands up her legs until they rest on her hips. She gives me a long once-over, and her shoulders slope slightly.

“Being with Laurie was different,” Mom mutters, still studying me with her eyes, “it was strange, yeah, but I didn’t really think of it as sex; just aggressive foreplay. But with you…” she trails off, and runs a delicate finger up my cock, “it’s the real thing. I’m really going to fuck my son.”

“Mom,” I say, moving my hands down, “if you don’t want to, we don’t have to.”

“That’s just the thing,” Mom smiles crookedly, “I really want to, and I’m scared about what that means.”

“It means you’re a sick, twisted, pervert.” I laugh, and squeeze the fat of her ass, “Now, join the family.”

Mom laughs gayly, and I see the apprehension leave her. She guides my head to her slit, looks me in the eye, and reveals a warm, caring, smile. She takes me in. Her folds push inward to my advancing girth, her inner-lips envelope about me, and her warm, moist, womanhood embraces my length from the inside. Her brow furrows, her eyes glisten, and her slightly-parted lips yield a satisfied, almost mournful, moan. Her dripping petals deform against my pelvis as she consumes the last of me, and she tilts her head skyward to utter a single, satisfied, sigh. I see a decade of tortuous abstinence fall from her shoulders, and she somehow looks younger. She savors the fullness of her penetration for a few indulgent seconds, and then casts her eyes downward to me. Her hair falls, and conceals one of her blue irises behind a curtain of brown coils. A youthful, excited, smile curls at her lips, and she begins to grind.

Her hips rock in a circular motion, entrancing me with the libidinous arcs of her graceful form. When she grinds forward, the expanse of her abdomen stretches to a smooth canvas of silky flesh, dotted with a perfect navel at its center. Her advance is accentuated with an arching back, prompting her breasts to expand from her chest, and jiggle upon their perches. When she shifts back, the lines of her abdomen contract to shadows along her form, showing the musculature beneath the silky layer. Her retreat is accompanied with a curving back, compelling her breasts to press together, and reveal the delectable nature of their supple texture. Every circular grind causes her tight lips to rotate around my aching girth, and her warm insides to grip me in their lustful hold. I moan and sink my fingers into the fat of her backside, curving my thumbs along her gyrating hips as I surrender to her overwhelming prowess. She smiles endearingly at my novice nature, rises, laces her fingers together behind her head, and dances on me. She flows to some erotic rhythm only she can hear. Her head tilts back, her shoulders sway, her breasts jiggle, and her hips grind. She seems to savor every little motion, and every inch me. When she rises, her lover’s lips pull along my length, and stretch from her womanhood. When she drops, her petals fold inward about my girth, and her clit glides against my shaft. She makes love to me like a goddess, and my usual, power-hungry nature is not compelled to stop her. She’s tamed me, and I love it.

“Mmm, Tom,” Mom moans, gracefully outlining her curves with her hands, “You’re so big!”

“You’re fucking beautiful.” I say, at a loss for any other words.

“You always were such a sweetheart, Pumpkin.” Mom giggles, crinkling her nose.

“That’s not what I like to hear,” I say, trying to muster the hot-blooded part of myself, “I prefer my women screaming.”

“Is that so?” Mom laughs with a raised eyebrow, “Are you a big, manly, stud?” She says the last words with dripping sarcasm, and I get a little angry. Before I have a chance to retaliate, she’s on me.

“You know,” she says, leaning forward and pinning my shoulders back with her palms, “we don’t have to fuck like you and Laurie do. If you want, I can take control; it’s the least I can do for my baby boy.”

“You can try,” I smile wryly, “and we can see what happens.”

“Oh?” Mom smirks, running her hand down my chest, “Is that a challenge? I’ve been at this a lot longer than you have.”

“You’re out of practice,” I chuckle, “and old.”

“I should slap you!” Mom giggles, and then her playful demeanor changes rapidly, “Let’s see what you got, Pumpkin.”

Mom’s motions become more impassioned. She keeps my shoulders pinned, and grinds her hips behind her in a deep, flowing, rotation. Her back arches above her hips, and her shoulders pin together, pushing her breasts to my face. Every move she makes is graceful, fluid, and seeped with impossible sensuality. She squeezes me with every muscle inside her, and compels me to move to her rhythm. I’m trapped in her cadence, and forced to be the subject of her elegant perversion. I can’t break out of it, and I don’t want to. She knows she’s beaten me, but she doesn’t smirk or gloat. She looks down on me with her warm, affectionate smile, and moans subtle pleasure through the pale outline of her parted lips. Her head tilts forward, and her hair draws a curly, auburn, curtain over our faces, until it’s just her and I in the world. Her blue irises smile into my eyes, and then lurk downward to my groaning mouth. The curtain of hair closes around me as she descends to my face; her moaning lips parting wider between the quirk of her motherly smile. The delectable, soft flesh of her mouth presses against me, and opens between us. My tongue comes out to meet hers, and we engage in a soft, invasive embrace seeped in the same sensuality as our sex. Her tongue slides and curls with smooth, graceful, ease, and her lips pull with gentle, sweet, sucks. Her mouth leaves mine with a wet smack, and a glistening bridge of her saliva stretching between us.

“Such a sweet boy, Pumpkin,” Mommy winks at me in our secluded hair-curtain, “you talked such a big game, but you couldn’t handle me, could you?”

“Oh… fuck.” I moan, unable to think of anything but the way her rotating hips are pulling me into her.

“It’s OK, Pumpkin,” Mom giggles, “I like you like this. This is how we’ll do it, OK?”

“Ok.” I grin stupidly back.

“Come,” Mom smiles warmly, bringing a breast to my mouth, “taste me like you used to.”

I take her nipple into my mouth, and gently squeeze her other breast. My free hand moves caressingly down her side, and takes a tender grip of her ass. I gage her rhythm, and lock in; penetrating her deeply as she grinds forward, and then pulling away as she slinks back. I nurse from my mother, and she moans and whispers softly into my ear. “That’s it, babe, Mommy’s got you. You’re safe with me, Pumpkin; there’s nothing I gaziantep bayan escort won’t let my baby do to me. You can come inside me if you want. I want you to.” Her voice drips like sweet honey into my ear, and seeps it’s loving song into my brainstem. It echoes gently in my mind, leaving a soft, warm, tingle where it lingers. I close my eyes, and focus on the comfort of her voice, the taste of her nipple, the feel of her breast squishing in my hand, and the sensation of her pussy holding me snugly inside her. Her inner-muscles flex in a rolling wave from my tip to my base, as if she’s massaging me from the inside. Her tender petals give way to me with each gentle thrust, and leak her warm, viscous nectar onto my pelvis. It stretches between our bodies in glistening strings, and wets our sensual penetration. I’m in heaven; I could stay like this for ever.

“Psst,” Eleanor’s voice cuts through my stupor, “do you need me to bail you out?”

Eleanor is lying next to me, her head resting in her folded arms, her mouth vocalizing soft pleasure as my sister eats her bent-over ass.

“We’re having a moment,” Mom chides Eleanor, “don’t ruin it.”

“You two can have all the moments you want when you’re alone,” Eleanor smiles lazily, “but this is a group activity, and you’re being antisocial.”

Mom gives Eleanor a cross look, and then relaxes her gaze.

“She’s right, Pumpkin,” Mom says, “I’m being greedy with you.”

“It’s you we’re actually interested in,” Eleanor chuckles to Mom, “you’re still fresh meat, and we all want a taste.”


It amazes me how fast my old skills came back. When Laurie had her way with me, I was reserved, fearful, and still reeling from the realization that I was going to fuck my children. Now that I’ve got my old swagger, and Tom wrapped around my finger, I think it’s time to pay my insolent bitch of a daughter back. Unfortunately, I can’t do that if I’m trapped in my affectionate lust for my son; I need some energy from him to get me in the vengeful mood.

“Hey, Pumpkin,” I moan in his ear as I clench my pussy around his wonderful heat, “I need you to be a little mean to me; do you think you can do that?”

Tom seems to mull the idea over in his head, and then looks back at me. “How mean?” he asks.

“He can be a downright bastard if you want him to.” Eleanor smiles, and ruffles his curly hair.

“I’m going to hate-fuck your little sister, Pumpkin,” I smile evilly to Tom, “and I need you to get me in the mood for it.”

“I think I know just the thing,” Tom chuckles, and then runs his finger up the crack of my ass, “but if everyone is going to share you, my options are rather limited.”

“Oh?” I laugh, and spread myself for his fingers. “Do you want to fuck your Mommy in the ass?”

I watch Tom’s face darken to a hedonistic, hungry hue. He pushes three fingers inside me, and curls them until it hurts. I shiver in sexual angst; so, this is the man Laurie was talking about. This isn’t my Pumpkin.

“That’s it,” I whisper as I feel his dominant energy sink into me, “that’s exactly what I need.”

Tom pulls up sharply, and presses his mouth to mine. He doesn’t kiss me like he did before, and I don’t either. I don’t melt in the heat of his domineering lust like Laurie; I burn hot with him. Our mouths consume each other and our tongues battle between them. We entangle our hands in each other’s hair and pull the strands until it hurts just right. I peek out of the corner of my eye to see Laurie staring up from Eleanor’s ass with worry in her eyes. That’s right, Sweetie; you’re not the alpha bitch you thought you were.

We part from the kiss, smile in mutual respect, and then I rotate around on his cock, and bend over. He rises behind me, and I pull away and crawl over to my daughter.

“Hey, Sweetie,” I sing with venom in my voice, “Ellie tells me you want to share me.”

Laurie pulls her lips away from Eleanor’s asshole and puts on her best seductive face. She slinks her body gracefully to her back, and raises an eyebrow as she spreads her legs. I hook my hands to her thighs, and rip her body underneath me. Her confident façade falters at the surprising strength of my pull, and I see the apprehension behind her eyes. Perfect.

“Tom,” I say to my son as I burrow my gaze into my daughter, “fuck me.”

Tom grabs my hips, lines up his shot, and pushes all seven inches of himself deep into my ass. I growl as I feel my sphincter envelope about his cock, and my tight insides separate for his girth. God, that’s good. He’s not nice to me; he slaps my ass hard with the violent drive of his hips, sending ripples of delectable fat up my backside with each ferocious impact. The hits sting deep into my nethers and mingle with the piercing, beautiful pain of my penetration. I take a moment to indulge in his brutality, and then level my gaze at my daughter.

“You didn’t take it this good when he did it to you, did you?” I smile at her as moans flow from my mouth, “I bet you were screaming like a whore.”

“She was,” Eleanor says as she snakes her body next to mine, “she told Tom she was his personal anal slave.”

“What kind of a daughter did I raise?” I smirk at her as I watch the fear brim in her eyes, “That would submit herself so willingly to a man?”

“Your daughter,” Laurie spits, “like mother, like daughter, you son-fucking slut.”

“That’s not very nice,” I chuckle as my right hand travels between us, “are you trying to get a rise out of me?”

“I think she wants you to hurt her,” Eleanor whispers, “she’s a masochist at heart.”

“And you?” I ask Eleanor as I slide my hand between my daughter’s legs.

“I’m whatever you want me to be, Sierra.” Eleanor smiles.

“I’m in need of a mistress,” I smile, gasping my words as Tom’s cock sends electric pleasure into my colon, “to help me train my little, anal, whore.”

I pinch my fingers together, and push my entire fist into my daughter’s ass. Her eyes flash open, and she screams just like I want her to. I feel her warm, tender, anal skin gripping my fist like a vice, and I feel the pain and pleasure-induced contraction of her rectum. Eleanor doesn’t miss a beat. She places her palms flat on either side of Laurie’s pussy, and spreads them apart, opening my daughter for me to look inside. I see her vaginal floor bulge with my fist from the other side; I see the red, glistening, flesh ripple with the indentations of my thrusting knuckles. Eleanor marvels at the sight for a moment, and then pushes her fist inside.

“FUUUCK!” Laurie screams, her arms flailing to her sides, her hands clutching desperately at the bedding, and her head grinding into the sheets as her back arches in a sudden wrench, “OH GOD!”

“She really is a masochist, isn’t she?” I laugh to Eleanor, “Do you want to hold hands?”

Eleanor turns her palm flat against mine, and we curl our fingertips against each other inside my daughter. Laurie’s mouth gapes wide, her eyes tremble, and she croaks out a soundless, breathless tone. I can tell by the twitches of her rectum and the flow of her nectar, that she fucking loves it.

“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” I muse, barely containing my own pleasure as Tom continues to slap me to the beat of his sodomy, “You really are a masochistic whore, aren’t you?”

“YES!” Laurie wails, tears filtering from her eyes, her petite breasts jiggling to the violent heaves of her chest, “I’m just your little, anal whore!”

“God, that was easy,” I mock, now unable to contain the gasps and pants of my own pleasure, “I’ll have to teach you to take it with some grace.”

“Teach me, Mommy!” Laurie cries, grinding her hips involuntarily around the fists inside her.

So, I do. Eleanor and I drive our fists into my whore daughter as Tom fucks my ass into a ruined gape of sinful euphoria. I grind and rotate around him as exerted growls rumble from my chest. Laurie’s lower abdomen begins to distend with the imprint of Eleanor’s fist. I’m shocked at how deep we can both go, but Laurie never tells us to stop; she just begs us to go deeper. I’m halfway up my forearm by the time I feel the telltale convulsions rip through her. Eleanor and I increase our thrusts to a fervent cadence, and Laurie screams a fluctuating note of abject ecstasy. She writhes, twists, thrust her pelvis into the air, and then comes in a screech of profanity. She showers us with her juices, and Eleanor and I kiss in the heat of her orgasm. For a moment, I’m lost in the feel of Eleanor’s mouth. She kisses with the hedonism of a harlot, but there’s a hint of something more behind her oral touch. A ferocious drive of Tom’s hips sends his cock deeper than ever, and rips me from the trance I was in. Eleanor gives me knowing smile as I look inquisitively into her eyes, and then the pleasure takes hold of me, and I’m lost to the lust.

“Tom,” I scream, “Come in my pussy!”

Tom pulls out of my ass, and I barely hold myself in. He slides his filthy cock along my taint, and pushes it back into my slit. I clench around him and make him fight for every inch inside me, and he breaks my defenses with perfect resolve. I pull my hand out of Laurie, and her anal skin sheaths around my withdrawal. She cries out in glee, and I stare into her eyes as I lick her ass off my fingers, before rising to my son. I press my back to his lurching chest and link my hands together around his neck. My spine arches, my abdomen stretches, and my breasts jut forward and jiggle violently to the rhythm of our sex. Eleanor and Laurie crawl to me on the bed. They rise to my chest, take a nipple apiece, and suck me as I ascend to a mindless orgasm.

Wet, warm mouths drawing deliciously from my nipples. Their saliva secretes around the nodes, and their lips pull gently with slurping, liquid sounds. They permeate warming tingles into my chest, and their gentle pleasures contrast the violent euphoria of my womanhood. I leak nectar from my defiled folds as his heat pushes inside. He drives into me so deeply, and stretches me to near-painful levels, but even though he’s rough, he’s not entirely in control. I’m his mother, and I know how to tame his wildness. My supple cheeks squish against his pelvis, and the soft flesh deforms and spreads my warmth into his loins. My fingers play delicately into the soft curls of his hair, and tickle his neck in the comforting way I did when he was a child. I feel his roughness subside, and the edges of his lust smooth in the tenderness of my motherly affection. I feel his panting breath ease on my neck, and his coarse stubble brush gently against my cheek. That’s it, Pumpkin; come back to me. Fuck me like you love me, not like you hate me. He slows down, but he keeps his ardency. We grind together in smooth, deep motions; our hips rocking, our abdomens stretching and flexing, my hands wrapped behind his neck, and his lips pressed against mine. I feel the pressure in my nethers rise. I pull my hands from his neck, and entangle my fingers in the brown curls of my daughter, and the red strands of her friend. I draw their faces deeper to my breasts, and feel their noses push into the dark skin of my areolas. They’re trapped in the passion of my sex, and move with the same liquid, feminine grace I move to. Their fingers caress me along my folds, and their thumbs take turns playing with my clit. My nectar secretes on their elegant digits, and the pressure grows. Tom’s breath is heavy on me, his chest is rising with deeper inhales, and his cock is throbbing with uncontrollable spasms. I feel my own spasms ratcheting up my spine, and my moans rise to a song of cries. My hips no longer move smoothly, but lurch to the whim of my pleasure. My back no longer presses flat, but arches from his body to the power of my lust. I’m no longer in control of myself, and I no longer care. The pressure rises, and rises. Tom growls and moans, and I sing out a final, desperate, scream. We burst. He blows into me, erupting his hot seed deep into my womb. I spray a fountain of my release all over my daughter and her friend, and they moan in mutual satisfaction. They’re touching each other, and they come soon after. All four us form a harmony of ecstasy, and then fall to the bedding, regaining ourselves, but still slaves to the feeling of it all.

“Holy shit!” Tom gasps, his cock still in my pussy, “Mom, you’re amazing.”

“You’re very good yourself, Pumpkin,” I smile back, and then turn to Laurie, “and so are you, Sweetie.”

“I thought I was your anal whore?” Laurie chides with a smile on her face as she traces a finger around Eleanor’s nipple.

“You’re just so many different things,” I smirk lazily, “what I complicated young lady you are.”

“I’m curious,” Tom whispers to me, and kisses my neck, “about what Ellie said to convince you to do this.”

“I’d also like to know,” Laurie says, looking at the redhead in her arms, “what did you say, Ellie?”

“Oh,” Eleanor smiles knowingly to me, “all sorts of things.”

“You’re a manipulative cunt,” I chuckle, “I almost think you planned this whole thing out.”

“Don’t give me too much credit, Sierra,” Eleanor smiles slyly, “it wouldn’t have worked if you weren’t such an easy mark.”

I stick my tongue out at her, and she gives me a wink.

“What does she mean by that?” Tom asks me. I sigh, and shift against him, gasping slightly as I feel his cock push deeper inside me.

“Well, when I was younger” I start, “I was… a lot like Ellie is now.”

“A complete whore?” Laurie laughs, and Eleanor simply shrugs.

“Yes,” I confess, “a total whore. I fucked my way through half the sophomore class just because I wanted to. The jocks, the nerds, the grunge kids, and the punk kids; everyone had their turn with me. I even fucked a few cheerleaders on a bet, and that’s when I found out I didn’t mind pussy.”

“And somewhere along the line,” Eleanor chuckles, “you got pregnant with Tommy.”

“Bradley was different,” I sigh, “I actually wanted him as a person, and that’s why I kept going back to him. That’s why you two have the same father.”

“You never told us why he left,” Laurie says, watching me closely, “was it because you cheated?”

“Yes,” I say, dropping my eyes, “I was twenty-three, and realizing what being married really meant. I couldn’t stand the idea of being with just one man, so I went out, and fucked everything up. Word got around, and that was that.”

“We don’t blame you, Mom,” Tom says, “we just wish you were honest with us.”

“I couldn’t even be honest with myself,” I say, feeling tears starting to well in my eyes, “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey,” Laurie says sharply, “you didn’t make him abandon us, he left on his own. He could’ve taken us on weekends or the summer or something, but he just washed his hands of us, and that was it. That’s on him, Mom, not you.”

“Do you even know where he is?” Eleanor asks.

“Des Moines,” I say, “works at a mill. He’s remarried; some twenty-something bitch named Audrie.”

“Hmm.” Eleanor hums, smiling slyly. She looks back at Laurie, and whispers something in her ear. I see Laurie raise an eyebrow, and then curl her mouth into a devilish smile.

“What?” I ask.

“Ellie and I were just thinking,” Laurie says with the seduction back in her voice, “that the four of us should go have a family reunion in Des Moines.”

“What?!” I nearly scream.

“I would love to meet this Audrie.” Tom says behind me, and I feel him grow rock hard inside me.

“And I would just love to see Daddy again.” Laurie giggles. Tom begins to thrust again, and Laurie and Eleanor crawl over to me. I sigh, spread my legs, and make a mental note to take time off work for a long weekend. Looks like we’re going to Iowa.

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