Author’s notes: New Year’s-themed incest erotica for the coming New Year. Because why not?

Disclaimer: The following is a piece of fiction. Fiction (in case you don’t know) means it’s made up, not real, a bunch of lies. The characters in the story are all fictional too, meaning they don’t exist. While non-existent, if they existed and had an age they would be over 18.

When pressed, Colin would admit the existence of days which are even worse to be born on than January 1st.

December 25th, for instance, or even December 24th. If you’re born on one of those there is simply no way you’ll get nearly as many gifts on your birthday as you would if it didn’t exactly overlap with the Christmas holiday. Even if your parents tried to be fair about it, if you had siblings they’d all complain if you got more presents “for Christmas” than they did, and before long Mom and Dad will get tired of explaining the reason for it over and over again to their other offspring and take the easy way out. Sure, you’ll get an extra “birthday” present or two as way to commemorate the event, but probably not more than that.

Not to mention that any birthday party on Christmas Day or Eve is going to directly compete with a major family holiday. You’ll probably never get a big bash with lots of friends. For one thing, those friends need to be with their own families for the holiday. Meanwhile your family will either be busy with preparations to host visitors or will be getting ready to go to whichever family member is doing Christmas dinner that year. So Christmas has definitely got to be the shittiest possible day for your birthday.

Having allowed for this, Colin felt comfortable in asserting that his own birthday on the first day of the year easily wins the silver medal in the “how bad the date of your birth sucks” Olympics. For one thing there was always a competing party the night before on New Year’s Eve, one at which the grownups all stayed up real late and often got drunk. Meaning your parents were usually at least a little hung-over the next day and not at all happy about the idea of holding a party where a bunch of screaming sugar-rushed kids would be running around the place. In addition January 1 was close enough to Christmas (exactly a week, every time) that there was still going to be a definite decrease in the number and/or expense of the birthday presents you got. In Colin’s case his parents typically gave him mostly the boring useful items (“Look, a nice new sweater and mittens!”) for Christmas and held out the best stuff for his birthday, which admittedly made his birthday more exciting but still sucked in the long run.

Another thing that was sort of weird (and frequently sucked) was that Colin was always the same age all year long, whereas every one of his friends would “age up” at some point during the year. For example there was the year he was twelve the entire year while every one of his friends either became thirteen (and thus “teenagers” meaning they were officially cooler than him) or were already thirteen when the year started and turned fourteen! He remembers that fiasco quite vividly.

The same thing happened this year, too, and if anything it was worse than being twelve. This past year was Colin’s year for being age twenty. A good enough age in most ways if it weren’t for the fact that most of his friends and classmates turned twenty-one at some point, meaning they could finally legally go to bars, buy alcohol in stores, and not have to worry about getting caught drinking at parties.

It wasn’t that Colin was a lush or something, nor could he say that he never got to drink booze at all. He frequently (illicitly) drank beer with his buddies, and had his fair share of the “secretly” spiked punch at various college parties. He’d been through a couple fake IDs which had gotten him into clubs and bars before each one was eventually confiscated by a bouncer or bartender who was serious about checking such things. And he’d had more than enough mornings embracing the porcelain throne and regretting what he’d done the night before to think that drinking alcohol was all gain and no pain.

None of that was the point. The point was that he couldn’t reliably hang with his friends when he was underage and they weren’t, and it had put stress on certain relationships. In particular Colin’s relationship with his girlfriend, Tamara. Or he should say, his ex-girlfriend.

He’d thought Tamara was the one. They’d been great together: Shared interests, mutual friends, good in bed. They’d started talking about the future.

Then on November 2nd Tamara turned 21. Naturally her girlfriends took her out drinking. She’d wanted Colin to go along, but the places they were going were 21 and up only and he was between fake IDs at that moment, so he gave his regrets. That night Tamara had gotten wasted, met a cute guy, and let him screw her.

She felt horribly guilty about it afterward and soon confessed to Colin. He’d told her he forgave her (and çankaya escort he definitely tried to) but it was the start of a disconnect in the relationship, one that only got worse despite both their efforts to address it.

They’d broken up for good on December 21st, right before winter break. Colin had wanted to keep on trying to revive what they’d had, it was Tamara who called it. She said it just wasn’t working, that it felt to her like Colin was sullen and holding a grudge. Also that his attitude about her lapse made her irritable in turn and she no longer felt happy when he was around.

The worst part for Colin was when she told him it had probably been a mistake all along, that they clearly weren’t meant for one another. She’d put it in a way that made it impossible for Colin to argue any more, and that was that..

In the end it the whole thing became another horrible experience which Colin blamed on being born on New Year’s Day.

[]

Colin came home that Christmas to an empty house. His older sister (his only sibling) had married and moved to the West Coast three years back, and she’d given birth to her first child just two months ago. Rather than make her travel with the baby, their parents had flown off to spend Christmas with her and the new grandchild.

A few of Colin’s old friends from high school were around, like him back home on winter break. He hung out with them a bit, but discovered the couple years they’d spent apart meant they were no longer as close as they’d once been. They’d all gone in different directions in terms of their interests and goals, and once they got past rehashing the fun things they’d done in high school they didn’t seem to have much to talk about.

Colin even tried looking up Wendy, the girl he’d taken to senior prom, only to find out she had a fiancé and wedding plans in the imminent future. Another flop.

So mostly Colin hung around his family’s home and moped. It was hard not to. No Christmas morning with his family this year, no party with his friends for his birthday to look forward to. And of course he was still trying to get over Tamara without a lot of success.

On Christmas Eve Colin went to his grandparent’s (on his Mom’s side) house for dinner. This was the long-held family tradition and he couldn’t really have gotten out of even if he’d had something better to do. It was pretty quiet, just his grandparents, Uncle Sean and his wife and kids, and his Aunt Kate with her husband Tim and their toddler. His own parents weren’t there of course, and the more remote cousins were all off doing something else this year.

Because of this he ended up talking to Aunt Kate much more than usual. Kate was the youngest in the family, a good ten years younger than his Mom meaning she was only twelve years older than Colin. He’d always thought of Kate as his “crazy” aunt. Not because she had an actual mental illness, or that she believed she had ESP and could “sense” the ghosts from long-dead relatives (that would be his Aunt Rachel on Dad’s side). It was more because Kate was the aunt who was always telling weird jokes and stories, or yakking about the impulsive new thing or hobby she’d tried recently, or suddenly coming up with odd plans.

For example there was the time his parents threw a party the weekend before Christmas since it was on a Wednesday that year and Kate tried to get the entire family to dress up like characters from Dicken’s “Christmas Carol” using stuff they had around the house and then go out caroling around the neighborhood. The plan didn’t go anywhere due to resistance on the part of the other adults, though at age ten Colin had thought it was cool limping around with his junior hockey stick as crutch, pretending to be Tiny Tim and yelling, “God bless us every one!” Everybody thought of Aunt Kate as the wacky one in the family.

Anyway, Kate soon inveigled Colin’s history since they’d last seen each other out of him, including all the gory details about Tamara.

“Oh, honey, that really sucks,” she said when he’d laid out his tale of woe. Which lined up pretty accurately with Colin’s assessment, so he wasn’t about to argue. “Are you doing okay?”

Colin shrugged. “Sure.”

She looked at him doubtfully. “You don’t sound like it. I know your parents are away, what have you been doing since you got here?”

“Not much, I guess. Just relaxing.”

“Not going out with friends?”

“Yeah, some of the time. They’re kind of busy, and, well, things. I don’t know, I guess when we split up after high school ended we all kind of went our separate ways.”

“What about Danny, um, Goldstein? I remember you two being thick as thieves at one point.”

“He’s on a trip with his parents, they always go someplace after Hanukkah.” Colin sighed. “I’m okay, Aunt Kate, really. I just need to work through this thing on my own.”

“What are you doing tomorrow for Christmas?”

He shrugged again. “Opening escort çankaya my presents. Maybe order pizza.”

“It’s not good to be alone, especially not when you’re torn up like this.” She shook her head. “I’d tell you to join us except that we have to go visit Tim’s side and I wouldn’t inflict that on you.”

“That bad?”

“They talk politics. They know they shouldn’t, it always ends up in a shouting match, but somehow they just can’t help themselves. It’s like watching a bunch of lemmings heading for a cliff. Gruesome.”

She made it a joke, and Colin forced a smile.

This only made Aunt Kate look even more concerned. “What about New Year’s Eve?”

“What about it?”

“Are you going to a party? You’re turning twenty-one at midnight, you should!”

Another shrug. “I can’t get too excited about that.” Not after what happened with Tamara, he added mentally.

“Don’t be a dummy, you need to get out,” Kate said. “All right, if you don’t have a party to go to you’re coming to ours.”

“You’re having a New Year’s Eve party?”

She grinned. “We are now! Hey, dear, we’re throwing a New Year’s Eve party this year.”

Uncle Tim blinked. He’d had several beers, and as usual this made him slow on the uptake. “We are?”

“It will be fun!” Kate enthused, eyes starting to sparkle. “And we can celebrate your birthday at the same time, Colin!”

“Great,” Colin said flatly.

[]

Christmas morning alone was weird. Nobody woke Colin up early (he’d stopped being the one to wake everyone else up years ago), no gathering around the tree, no commentary on the gifts as they were opened. It was too quiet, and for the first time ever opening presents was kind of boring.

Colin made himself coffee and had a bowl of cereal. He texted some friends. His parents called a little while after that (first thing in the morning for their time zone) and they chatted.

By noon he’d run out of things to do. He fired up his gaming console and went online. At least there would be a lot of newbs who’d just gotten one of the games he liked to play for Christmas, maybe ganking a bunch of them would make him feel better.

Colin drifted through the next week in pretty much the same way. Without his family and few friends around he felt oddly disconnected, like he was the last man on earth. Except there were no actual zombies he could take out his aggressions on, and it turned out that dispatching remote opponents in games was a lot less fun when he wasn’t doing it alongside his pals. He tried to Discord some of his gaming buddies, but again they were mostly too busy with their families or vacations or whatever.

By the time December 31st rolled around he was actually looking forward to Aunt Kate’s party just to get out of the house and be with people.

[]

The party started at eight-thirty, mostly because Aunt Kate wasn’t much of a cook and didn’t want to have to try and put together dinner for a group. Colin found himself ringing their doorbell on the dot.

Kate opened the door. “Colin! Good, I’m so glad you came.”

She wore a bright red pair of flared pants and an equally flashy purple blouse, which perfectly fit her personality. Her dark brown hair was twisted into some sort of updo but with stray wisps coming out in several directions, which Colin thought also fit her personality.

“It was probably the part where you threatened to kill me if I didn’t show,” Colin said.

She laughed. “It’s for your own good, bucko. C’mon in, you can help me finish putting up the decorations.”

As he should have expected, Kate had gone overboard on the decorations. There were balloons, banners, signs, little inflatable things, paper ceiling hangings, streamers, New Year’s-themed party plates and napkins, various noisemakers, party hats, and a piñata shaped like a jack-o-lantern (“Oh, I got that for Halloween a couple years ago and never used it, so I thought what the heck, throw it in!”).

Since she’d said it would also be a birthday party for him Colin had been afraid this would be a major theme, and was glad that only a few of the items said things like “Happy Birthday.” The major one was a sheet cake with icing saying “Colin’s 21, Best Yet to Come.” He thought the sentiment was kind of dumb, but as it was his favorite flavor (spice with cream cheese frosting) he was willing to put up with that.

Kate handed him a roll of tape, showed him a stepstool and had him start putting things on the ceiling. “Where’s Uncle Tim?” he asked.

“Apparently it’s essential for him to watch college basketball between teams he’s never supported in the past,” Kate said dryly. “He’s in his den, eyes glued to the TV.”

“I thought the games would be done by this time?”

“He DVRed the ones he couldn’t watch live because he was tuned to a different one and is watching them now.”

Kate meanwhile was running around setting out trays of appetizers, table decorations, çankaya escort bayan and also keeping an eye on Megan their almost-three-now kid. It was a little bit like watching speeded-up video, Colin thought, and wondered where Kate found the energy.

Shortly before nine the other guests started to arrive. As soon as they walked in Kate drafted the first few into helping with final preparations. By nine-fifteen the party was going full steam.

The people at the party were Tim and Kate’s friends, mostly couples about their age, many of whom had ditched their kids with a sitter in order to have a few hours with other adults. (Megan by now had been put to bed, with a promise that if she was quiet she could have cake for breakfast in the morning.) Kate introduced Colin to each as they came in, and he was very glad the party consisted of less than twenty people as even with this he had a hard time keeping track.

A bit past nine-thirty Uncle Tim finally emerged from his den (“Kind of like a hibernating bear,” Kate whispered to Colin). He made a beeline for the bar and made himself a gin and tonic, but Colin could tell he’d already been drinking.

The other thing that happened around then was that the last guest finally showed up.

“Michelle, you came!” Kate said, hugging the new arrival.

“I just dropped by for a bit, I have another party later,” the younger woman said.

Colin, who was standing nearby, couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was tall and blonde, definitely younger than thirty, with cute dimples and this sculpted-looking neck like she was a marble statue of a Greek goddess. She wore a black cocktail dress that showed off her long, toned legs.

“Michelle, this is Colin, my nephew,” Kate said.

Michelle turned and held out her hand for a shake. Colin fought to keep his eyes up out of her cleavage, which the black dress also displayed very nicely.

“Hey, Colin, it’s nice to meet you,” Michelle said. Her hand was very warm, her skin soft but her grip firm.

“Michelle works with me and sometimes I think she’s the only other person in the office who has a functional brain,” Kate said. “Oops, I have to go check on the tray in the oven. Colin, show Michelle the bar and get her something, all right?”

Kate hared off leaving the two of them together. “Um, bar’s right over here,” Colin said. “What’s your poison?”

“Just a glass of white wine for now. Like I said, I have another party to go to later.”

Colin poured a healthy slug of Pinot Grigio and handed it to her, noticing that she wasn’t wearing a ring on her left hand. “Cheers.”

“Chin-chin,” she said, taking a sip. “You’re a rum and coke man, I take it?”

“This? Uh, just the coke part,” Colin said.

She smiled. “Good for you. Too many young guys think that getting sloshed is the only way to have fun.”

“Definitely not me. I don’t mind a drink, but getting drunk is not my thing,” Colin said.

They drifted over to the food table and got some snacks, continuing to chat. Their pairing was natural as neither of them knew the other people at the party, while everyone else was part of the same social circle.

Michelle asked what Colin did and he said he was still in college studying applied mathematics. This led her to bring up how the “quants” seemed to be everywhere in brokerages these days yet stock market changes still didn’t seem to make sense, which allowed Colin to talk knowledgeably about the limitations of mathematical modeling.

After a bit Colin realized he was doing all the talking and stopped himself. “Sorry, I think I got carried away there.”

Michelle dimpled. “It’s all right, it was fun watching you get excited about it. So, what do you do when you’re not being a math fiend?”

He mentioned some shows he followed and they talked about ones they’d both seen. This time Colin tried to get Michelle to take the lead. She had some good insights, and also (he had to admit) a really nice voice.

Somehow from there it got to the topic of the party itself. “Oh, you’re the one having the birthday! Happy birthday, Colin.”

“It’s tomorrow, actually. I was a New Year’s Day baby, like minutes after midnight. My Dad always says me dragging my feet cost him a tax deduction.”

Michelle chuckled. “Well, congrats in advance, then. Hopefully someone gives you something really good for your birthday.” And she winked at him.

Colin took a gulp of his coke. He now regretted coming to the party wearing jeans and a T-shirt showcasing a band he liked. If he’d known he’d meet someone like Michelle at this he’d have dressed up more.

They continued to talk. Colin could tell they were really hitting it off. Then Michelle glanced at her phone. “Oh wow, is it really after eleven-thirty? I guess I lost track of time, I have to get going!”

“Oh, right,” Colin said, feeling deflated. “You have that other party to go to. Sorry, my fault for distracting you.”

“No, no, it was fun,” Michelle said. Then she smiled. “Hey, why don’t you come with me? My friend made reservations for two dozen and I’m sure somebody won’t show or we could squeeze one more in.”

She named the place. It was a well-known club in town, one Colin knew had a reputation for being extremely strict in the 21-and-up policy. He sighed. “I can’t.”

When she joined me in the kitchen I could tell that she wasn’t happy. And it wasn’t because I was a psychic, it was because it was written all over her face.

Angrily, she said, “I don’t believe it!”

Thankfully, that anger didn’t appear to be directed towards me. However, I needed to be careful. One wrong word, or silly joke, and it would be.

“She’s acting like a selfish bitch.”

I was about to speak, but she cut me off. First, with a menacing stare, and then, while wagging her finger at me, with a warning.

“Jake, don’t you dare defend her.”

I had no idea what all this was about, but what I did know was that she needed to calm down. And that I could help her to do that.

In a soothing voice, I said, “Sit down, I’ll make you one of your special coffees. Then we’ll talk about it.”

I made sure to do it properly. Taking my time, so that each ingredient was measured accurately. Any mistakes and she would notice, and then I’d get her wrath as well.

After two sips, she spoke again, and this time in a calmer voice, “Thanks, It’s perfect.”

“You’re welcome.”

She then told me about the conversation that she’d had with her Mother. When she’d finished, I wanted to smile, but I kept a straight face. To her, what she’d told me was bad news, but to me it wasn’t. It was the complete opposite. Just thinking about what she’d said was getting me excited.

At the weekend, her Mother wanted us to relocate her from her Sister’s house to an apartment near to where we lived. On hearing that Rachel had lost her temper, and she’d told her Mother what she thought about her. And it hadn’t been nice things. Her Mother had fought back, and it had become an argument. It had eventually ended with Rachel reluctantly agreeing to do it, but only because there was nobody else who could.

I know what you’re thinking. If anybody is a bitch, then it’s the Daughter rather than the Mother. The Mother needs help, but the Daughter doesn’t want to help her.

However, to make the right decision, you need to be fully informed.

Two weeks ago, we moved Anne to her Sister’s place. The plan was that she would then stay with her sibling until she’d found something suitable to buy. And now, even though she was still looking, she would be moving again. Apparently, she wanted to be on her own, so, without telling anybody, she’d arranged to rent a property.

The moving had been hard work. A long tiring journey in a car that was packed from top to bottom. And Rachel had done all the driving. Now, without a good reason, we would be doing it again, and not long after the first time. That’s why her Daughter was calling her a selfish bitch.

Those of you with an enquiring mind will be wondering why this makes me happy. Shouldn’t I be angry like Rachel? No, and I’ll tell you why I’ve said that.

On the day that we moved her, most of her belongings were put into storage, but there was still a lot of stuff that we had to take with us. And cramming all of that into the car was hard work, and I only managed it after a lot of swearing, and a lot of rearranging of items. The car was so full that there was only one passenger seat without anything on it. So while Rachel did all of the driving, I was in the back, with Anne sitting on my lap. The plan had been for Rachel to be in the back instead of me, but when she’d tried it out she’d found it too claustrophobic. And I couldn’t blame her, it was like being encased in a tomb. Confined spaces aren’t a problem for me, but it still made me feel uncomfortable.

If the road hadn’t been bumpy, and Anne hadn’t been attractive, then the journey would have been uneventful. But that’s conjecture. I was a young man, only twenty three years old, with a high libido, so perhaps any woman that had sat on my lap would have produced the same result. I’d got an erection, and because I’m proud to say that I have eight inches, it was a big one, and therefore difficult to hide.

At first, when my cock had started to expand, I was horrified. And then, when Anne noticed it, I was embarrassed. I’d done my best to control it, but it had a mind of its own. My Mother-in-law was surprisingly calm about it, and slowly, over time, that calmness became excitement. What started with me playing with her tits, ended up with us fucking. And because we were surrounded by all of Anne’s belongings, in our own private space, Rachel couldn’t see us, so we hadn’t been caught.

Now you understand why I’m happy that we’re moving her again. It’s another opportunity for us to be in the back, with her on my lap. And this time, we won’t need the road to be bumpy for us to get excited!

On Saturday morning, while we were on our way, I thought about my Mother-in-law. When I’d first met her she wasn’t impressed with me. I wasn’t the Doctor or Lawyer that she wanted for her Daughter. I had my own business, a shop that sold second-hand goods. I was proud of it, but to her it was just a junk shop, and I knew that she wouldn’t be telling her friends about it. buca escort I thought that over time I’d win her round. That eventually she’d succumb to my charm. But she hadn’t, even when I’d married Rachel. So what had happened two weeks ago wasn’t just exciting, it had also been surprising. And I’d found out that her behaviour towards me had been motivated by jealousy. She’d wanted me, but she couldn’t have me, and her response to that was to treat me badly.

It was late when we arrived, and I was tired because I’d done most of the driving. Rachel was greeted with a big hug, but all I got was a quick hello, and it had been said without any enthusiasm. However, I didn’t mind. My Mother-in-law wasn’t stupid, if she’d been anything other than cold towards me, then it would have looked suspicious.

While we all ate together, I found it difficult to keep my eyes off Anne. Of course, I’d always known what an attractive woman she was, but it’s only recently that I’ve enjoyed her sumptuous body. And I was now eager to enjoy it again.

She’s forty three years old, but she doesn’t look it. You could believe that she was Rachel’s elder Sister rather than her Mother. She’s small, only five feet tall, but she’s still an imposing woman, both in character and physique. Her medium sized breasts look good on her small frame. And she’s not just a one trick pony. She has other desirable attributes. To go with her impressive tits, she also has matching hips, and a bottom that you can’t take your eyes off. Now that should be enough for any man, but there’s more. To the envy of all her female friends, she doesn’t just have a gorgeous body, she also has a beautiful face. Think of Audrey Hepburn, and that’s her.

By the time we’d got to the dessert, profiteroles, I’d managed to calm down. I could look at Anne without staring, and without getting excited. But as soon as I was in bed with Rachel, I started thinking about my Mother-in-law again, and what was under the stylish clothes that she wears.

If you like your lover’s nipples to be small and dainty, then she’s not for you, but if you like them long and thick, then she’s your woman. They are at least half an inch long, and they’re plump. When you suck on them, you don’t want to stop. And while you’re feasting on her breasts, thinking that life can’t get any better than this, I can assure you that it can, because between her slim legs is a sweet pussy, that when aroused, is one of the best that you will ever have. But be careful when you suck her labia into your mouth, they’re big and meaty. You might choke on them!

Thinking about Anne was enjoyable, but it was also a mistake. I was now excited, and I wanted sex. My intention was to save myself for tomorrow, for when I’d be in the car with my Mother-in-law, but that had now changed.

“Go to sleep!”

Rachel’s back was towards me, and I’d put my hand on her shoulder. We’ve been together long enough for her to know what my intention was. And the same for me. I knew that if I continued, the answer would still be no, and she would shout at me. Some battles you can’t win, and this was one of them. Now I was frustrated, and despite my best efforts, it was a while before I was asleep.

It was seven o’clock when I woke, and that was only because Aunty was knocking on the door.

“Breakfast is ready.”

That got mumbled thanks from me, and then I nudged Rachel. But it took more than that to wake her. When I eventually managed it, she was in a surprisingly good mood.

After yawning, and a big stretch of her arms, she said, “It will be nice having her living near to us.”

That wasn’t what she’d said a few days ago, when her Mother had told her that she was moving, but I wasn’t stupid enough to point that out to her.

After quickly showering, we went downstairs for breakfast. While we were eating, Aunty suddenly said something, and it made my heart sink.

“This time you’ll all have a seat. My Sister isn’t taking everything with her. I’ve had a word with her, and she’s agreed to leave some of her things with me.”

Was that true? It must be, because when I looked at Anne she nodded. And worryingly, she didn’t seem concerned. I’d assumed that she would be as eager as I was to do it again, but it was now obvious that she wasn’t. To say that I was disappointed was the understatement of the year. I felt deflated, and all I wanted to do now was to complete Anne’s move as quickly as possible.

After breakfast, I packed the car. This time it was easier. There was still a lot of stuff, but unlike last time, the front passenger seat could now be used.

We were now on our way. I was driving, with Rachel next to me. We’d only gone a couple of miles, when Anne shouted out from the back, “I’ve bought a few items from a local store, and we need to pick them up. I’ll give you directions.”

It didn’t take us long to get there. Anne then went into the store, returning in less than five minutes with two small parcels. Rachel was buca escort bayan curious, and her Mother told her that they were ornaments, and that she would show them to her when we stopped for lunch, but I wasn’t interested. I just wanted to be on our way. We had a long way to go, and it would be late when we got to Anne’s new place.

As I was pulling away from the curb, Anne spoke, “Jake, please go to the back of the store, there’s something else to pick up.”

After giving a deep sigh, that was probably loud enough for my Mother-in-law to hear, I did what she’d asked.

When Rachel saw what we were picking up, I thought she was going to have a fit. It was only the presence of one of the store assistants that was stopping her going into a rage. That ‘something’, wasn’t a single item, it was six boxes, and two of them were large.

While smiling, and in a soothing tone, Anne said, “I know it’s a lot, but they’re all for you. A thank you for moving me. I know that sometimes I can be a bit selfish, but I do appreciate you doing this for me.”

Rachel was now a lot calmer, but she was looking at the boxes and wondering how they would all fit into the car. Eventually, she came to the same conclusion as me.

“They will have to go onto the front seat. There’s no other way.”

And that would mean that she’d have to drive, while I was in the back with her Mother. That would make my day, but Rachel didn’t like driving, so there was a strong possibility that she might refuse to take the parcels.

“I’m sure that you’ll like them. I picked them especially for you. And they were VERY expensive.”

That tipped the balance, because after giving a deep sigh that was even louder than my earlier one, she said, “Jake, put them in the car.”

I did, and with a smile so big that it was cracking my face. My Mother-in-law was a wily old bird. She’d planned this so that she’d have to sit on my lap again. It was now game on!

When Anne got onto my lap, the first thing she did was move her bottom about so that she could get comfortable. It was only for a brief time, but it was enough to get my heart pounding in my chest and the blood flowing into my cock.

In a low voice, that only I could hear, she said, “For the last two weeks, all I’ve been thinking about is your big cock, and how good it felt when it was deep up my pussy. I want you to fuck me again.”

That was what I wanted to hear, and my response to it wasn’t words, it was to put both of my hands onto her breasts. But surprisingly, she quickly brushed them off.

“No, wait until we get onto the open road, there’s too many vehicles here. I don’t want us to be stopped at traffic lights with my tits hanging out for all to see.”

Imagining that, almost made me laugh, but somehow I managed to keep control. I was desperate to push her top up so that I could enjoy her impressive nipples, but she was right, I’d just have to wait.

The next few minutes, until it was safe for me to touch her, seemed like an hour.

My hands were now on her, and I was trying to feel every part of her breasts. And there were a lot of them. She was silent, but that changed when my fingers got to her ripe nipples. The low moan that she uttered, sent a surge of excitement through my body. This for me, was as exciting as when I’d first enjoyed Rachel’s tits all those years ago. As nice as this was, it would be even better without her top and bra in the way. But when I tried to pop the top button of her blouse she stopped me.

“Don’t unfasten it. We need to be careful. Last time we were reckless, but we were lucky, and we managed to get away with it. Just put your hands under my top and push my bra up. If Rachel suddenly stops the car, then it won’t take me long to cover my tits up.”

I was disappointed. Lust, not logic, was spurring me on. I was willing to risk it, for her to be topless. However, I wasn’t completely out of control, so I did realize that what she had suggested was the sensible option.

After pulling her blouse out of her skirt, my hand went under it. The next obstacle was her bra, but it was easy to push up. My hands were now caressing her naked tits. And as I was doing that, I was thinking of something else. Her sweet pussy. But that was for later. We had a long way to go, so there was no need to rush. I knew from the previous journey, that what she had between her legs was special, so I wanted to savour it.

“Do you remember what happened the last time you sat on his lap?”

That startled both of us. We might be in our own bubble, our own private space, but we needed to remember that even though Rachel couldn’t see us, she could still hear us if we spoke too loudly, or if we made too much noise.

Then she said more, “After a while you got cramp, and you shouted out in pain. Jake had to sort it out for you.”

It hadn’t been cramp in Anne’s legs that had made her shout out, it had been what my fingers and cock had been doing to her.

“Yes, escort buca it was painful, but Jake fixed it for me. And my legs are now starting to hurt a bit.”

“I think he should do it again, and do it now, before it starts to get worse.”

And just to make it clear what she wanted me to do, Rachel said more.

“Jake, I want you to concentrate. You have to do whatever my Mother asks of you.”

“I will.”

And I would, with enthusiasm, because I knew what sort of things she’d be asking me to do.

Loud enough for Rachel to hear, Anne said to me, “That part of my leg needs your attention.”

It wasn’t any part of her leg that she was pointing at, it was the prime part of her tits. It was one of her nipples. When I expertly rolled it between a finger and thumb, it made her gasp.

“Is he doing OK?”

“Yes, but he needs to do it harder.”

“Jake, please do it. And don’t make me have to ask you again.”

I could hear the annoyance in her voice, and I knew that if I didn’t do as I was told, then she’d get angry. But that wasn’t going to happen, because I was more than happy to do whatever her Mother asked of me.

“Yes Rachel.”

My fingers were now rougher, and I wasn’t just tweaking her nipple, I was pulling on it.

Loudly, she said, “Do the other one as well.”

I quickly did, and her response consisted of two things. First she moaned, and then she started grinding her bottom into my cock.

I’d now enjoyed her tits for at least ten minutes. It was time to finger her.

“Anne, are you ready for me to move down?”

Before she could answer me, Rachel chipped in with, “The lower leg, that’s a problem area, make sure that you give it your full attention.”

It took all of my self-control to stop myself from laughing, and then I said, “Yes Rachel.”

As soon as my hand was on her thigh she was opening her legs. That’s what I wanted, but only after her panties were off.

In a low voice, I said, “Close your legs. I need to get your panties off.”

“No.”

That wasn’t the response I’d expected. Had she changed her mind? If she had, then I didn’t understand why. Her nipples were swollen, and she’d been making a lot of noise, so she was definitely excited. Then I had to smile.

“You aren’t wearing any.”

“I might be, why don’t you put your hand between my legs and see for yourself.”

When I started to pull her skirt up, she gave a little shudder, in anticipation of what I was going to do to her. And when it was up to her waist, and my hand was going under it so that it could get to her pussy, she spoke. I stopped, with it only inches away from her honeypot, while I waited to hear what she had to say.

“Rachel, so far, Jake has been doing a good job. But this is the area that needs his special attention. I’m worried that he will be too gentle with me.”

After giving a deep sigh, she said, with some irritation in her voice,

“Jake, you need to up your game.”

I hadn’t done anything wrong, but I still felt the need to apologize, and to do it quickly.

“Sorry. What do you want me to do?”

“Go deep into her.”

That was better than I could have ever hoped for. Without her knowing, she’d just given me permission to put my fingers into her Mother’s juicy pussy, and to not stop until they were in up to the knuckles. My hand was now moving again, and because, as expected, there were no panties in the way, my fingers could enter her. They then did, and with a speed that took her breath away.

“Are you doing it?”

Anne answered for me with a quick yes, and then she added, “But he’s only used two fingers. I like three.”

“Jake…”

Before she could say more, I cut her off with, “I’m doing it now.”

This time, when the third finger went in, she lost control. She gave a loud moan, and on hearing it Rachel would know why she’d uttered it. It was because her Mother was sexually excited. I braced myself for the awkward questions, and accusations, that were going to come. But amazingly, there weren’t any. Rachel had mistaken it for an expression of pain rather than of pleasure.

“Jake, I’m glad that you’re not doing it to me. Mother, you need to be brave.”

“I’m OK, but Jake, you need to move your fingers.”

I was now fingering her, and Anne was getting noisy. But that was OK, because Rachel believed that it was her Mother’s response to my fingers going deep into her calf muscle. It wasn’t. It was her Mother’s response to my fingers moving quickly inside her hot wet pussy. But I wasn’t going to correct her!

It goes without saying, that Anne was enjoying this, but what about me? Despite my throbbing cock still being trapped in my jeans, I was as excited as my Mother-in-law was. And all the talking, especially the innuendos, were making it special. However, we needed to be careful. We might get carried away and say something that was too blatant. And seconds later, when Anne suddenly spoke, I was convinced that she’d done that.

“I’ve got a little lump that you need to rub.”

That should have been in a low voice, just for me to hear, rather than shouted out. I’d now got a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, and my cock was starting to deflate.

“That will be a knot in the muscle. I get them sometimes if I do too much running.”

© Jefferson Merrick 2022

If you haven’t already read Part One of Daddy’s Little Helper, it might help you understand this second phase a little better.

1

I lay, naked under the fluffy towel, on the bed scrolling through old social media posts looking at pictures of my mother, Melissa. Some included me and a few had Dad in there too but mostly I looked at the ones of just her, her smile, her vitality, her energy, bursting out from the screen of my smartphone. I missed my Mom so much. She had been gone almost a year now and the pain still felt raw. She had so much life to live, so much beauty, so much strength but it all disappeared in an instant in the fitting rooms at Nordstrom that afternoon eight days before my eighteenth birthday. An aneurysm, they said. I waited for my dad to finish his ablutions, as he called his, pee, shower and shave. Then it would be my time to do the same.

Facebook, Instagram and Tik Tok took up less and less of my time now that I had a full-time job with Dad’s firm. He made me his PA to give me something to do during the dark days following Mom’s death. Now I had grown into the role and fulfilled a really worthwhile function. I loved the job and the generous salary made the nine, sometimes ten-hour days worth every minute! Dad and his partner, Jerry, about the same age, ran a haulage company employing sixty drivers. The twenty-six, soon to be forty, eighteen wheelers were mobile for around twenty hours a day. Keeping them all rolling with full loads kept the office staff busy. I had the task of keeping Dad and Jerry up to date with everything that happened that ran outside the norms, the glitches, the hiccoughs, the breakdowns, the despatch of the repair crews, the day to day minutiae of running their offices. I even made the coffee a couple of times a week!

I had become a member of the Aston and Maddison Haulage Company team within weeks of joining. A few in the office disliked the fact that I had only just reached the age of eighteen, without a college degree but after a few weeks of effective work, they saw that I indeed had the smarts to do the job Dad had given me. Now, almost nineteen, I had the confidence to hold my head up and had proven to everyone that my more than pretty face hid a competent and energetic PA to the two bosses. At the office, I maintained a totally professional demeanour, all the while my pussy hungered for Toby Aston’s tongue and his rigid cock while my nipples ached to be sucked and pinched.

Dad and I had a secret. A secret so taboo that we had learned to keep even a hint of it from our daily lives at the headquarters of the company. I maintained a discreet distance from my father, and Jerry, of course. No touching, no smiles unless the joke was for everyone, no messages, no texts, no phone calls, no sneaking off for quick fumbles or fucks. We saved everything for behind closed doors at home.

I drove our Tesla each way while Dad sat in the back and caught up on his social media. Twenty five minutes each way and he fulfilled his duties to his pages and managed to catch up on the latest news. On arrival at our home in the burbs, I drove the car into the double width garage and lowered the electronic door closed behind us. We both rushed inside, Dad to the downstairs bathroom, me to the upstairs en-suite and showered away the grime of the day, paying particular attention to my pussy. Dry, teeth brushed, hair combed and wrapped in a large fluffy towel, I lay on the bed and scrolled. Dad would be a few more minutes since he liked to relax on the toilet after work, his regular dumping time! I didn’t mind. It gave me more time with Mom.

I heard him coming up the stairs. The door to his bedroom swung open and he stood, naked, smiling, his cock semi-erect, and said,

“Ready or not, here I come!”

He said the same thing every day we did this routine. It had become a habit and both of us laughed every time he said it. I dropped my phone onto the night-stand on Mom’s side of the bed and threw open my towel. Daddy grinned, wider than ever. He rushed to the foot of the bed and knelt in the middle, I had arranged the pillows to my liking already. And now, to accomplish complete submission in the presence of my lord and master, I opened my legs invitingly, wide, knees raised and let him assume the position. Our first time, a few weeks after my last birthday, had been rushed, a clumsy but still satisfying bout of hurried sex that set us on this torrid journey of incestuous love and debauchery. Today, Daddy took his time, kissing, licking, sucking, pulling my lips, flicking my clitoris, fingering my pussy, drilling into me with two, sometimes three fingers. In ten minutes, I had three, earth-shattering orgasms.

That first time I had blown Daddy since I couldn’t let him come inside me. We had no condoms in the house and Mom had been on the pill. Now I had been taking the pill for several months and insisted he blast his load deep inside me. I loved the feel of his cum jetting hot and powerful inside my cunt. Now he sucked, licked, fingered yenimahalle escort my pussy and kissed my clitoris, sucking it and the surrounding skin into his mouth, pinching, squeezing, rolling it between his teeth, building the pressure inside me until I could stand no more. I exploded onto his face, a small gush of liquid covered him. He laughed, sucked, licked some more and swallowed.

After my third orgasm, he rolled off me, his erection jutting into the air like a ramrod. For a man of thirty-nine, he kept in great shape. His circumcised cock twitched in the cool of the air-conned room. I devoured it, taking as much as I could deep into my mouth. I had been trying to get over my gag reflex for some months now but I still encountered the unwanted reaction every time I drew his cock into my throat. The gagging had lessened in recent weeks and I felt sure I could take him right down inside with a few more tries.

Now, his erect cock soaked in my saliva, I knelt over him, held his cock in my left hand and positioned the head at the entrance to my hot, wet pussy. I lowered myself down an inch at a time, pausing to savor the feeling as my greedy cunt gripped his dick. Five pauses later, I felt the hard, swollen head pressing deep inside me. I pushed on down another inch, the pressure hurt but the pleasure was worth the discomfort. I paused, held my breasts and then began to slowly rock back and forth on his pubic bone.

The intense, direct contact between my clitoris and his bone made me come in about two minutes. I rode faster, harder, pressing my pussy down as hard as I could as I rocked back and forth on his rigid penis. The head lodged deep inside felt incredible, hard and a slight pain but I savored the intense, pleasurable feeling deep inside me as my orgasm approached. I squeezed my C cups, pinching the pale brown nipples between my fingers. Daddy, Toby, gripped my hips and pulled me onto him with each thrust down on him. He kept eye contact with me, smiling, whispering to me,

“Come on, Baby. Fuck me, fuck me hard, harder, hurt me. Melissa can hurt little Toby if she wants to. Toby won’t mind.”

Little Toby was not! I responded with,

“Melissa is gonna come on Toby’s massive cock in about one minute. Just keep still and let me ride your beautiful cock. Don’t do anything, Darling. Just relax and concentrate on keeping that fucking wonderful cock of yours hard inside me. Oh yes! Can you see my little bean when I slide forward like this, look, there it is! Touch it with your thumb, that’s it, just keep your hand there and let me fuck you. Oh, Jeez, that feels so fucking good. I am cumming, cumming cumming, just a bit mooooorrrrre! Oh fuck, yes! Yes, that’s it. God, fucking hell, Darling, that is just wonderful. Can I have another?”

“As many as you like, Honey. I am more than happy to lie here and watch you fuck me just like you did when we were teenagers in college. You remember those days, Honey?”

“Oh yes, Darling, I do! My body feels the same now as it did all those years ago and you haven’t aged a bit, Darling. You’re still as virile and horny as you ever were.”

The very first time Dad had an orgasm with me he called out Melissa’s name. I had laughed at the time and didn’t mind it a bit. When I mentioned it to Dad as I got off the bed, he apologized and cried.

“I’m sorry, Honey. I didn’t mean to. I guess I just did it out of habit. I won’t do it again, I promise. I’m sorry.”

I paused at the bathroom door, naked, lean and toned as I posed with the door frame as my support. I looked at him and said.

“I don’t mind, really. You told me I look like her so let me be her for you. You can pretend I am Melissa and I’ll pretend to be your wife, just in the bedroom of course. We have to be careful not to let anyone know about this. I’ll call you Toby in here and you can call me Melissa, okay?”

Daddy paused. He looked good lying naked on my bed that day almost a year ago.

“Okay, yes, I’d like that.”

“Right, you can have that third beer now, Toby! You have my permission after giving me all those spectacular orgasms!”

He grinned and I left him to go wash up. And so it began, Toby Aston got to fuck me, his wife, as often as we both wished, which turned out to be almost every day! Daddy went to Walgreen’s later that afternoon and stocked up on condoms. Six boxes of Kimono’s Microthin XL! Daddy’s a bit larger than average, so he tells me! We tried them out that night and had the best time with him coming inside me for the first time.

Now, I sat on top and relaxed for a few seconds. I felt just a bit overheated after that bout of frenzied riding on his big cock. We rode bareback since June. I had been on the pill for about three months. I leaned forward and kissed Toby on his mouth. Our tongues danced with each other, swapping saliva. I felt his cock twitch inside me. He was ready for me to resume. I wanted just one more orgasm before it would be his turn. He had given me three with his mouth and escort yenimahalle already one on his cock. Just one more and I would be done.

I began again, riding slowly at first, then faster as the pleasure increased, the pressure deep inside grew as the tension built. Somewhere deep inside me, a trigger snapped and my orgasm began its journey through my body. I rode faster, ground down on him hard and felt the explosion of electricity, of plasma, of whatever it is that makes an orgasm so freakin’ special! I roared my appreciation and screamed as I came.

“Fuck me!!!!! Fuck me!!!! Oh, fuck, yesssss!”

I collapsed onto his chest, my breasts squashed between us as my body shook and shuddered with pleasure. I licked his neck, sweaty from his tense withholding plus his energetic jerks to push his cock as deep as it would go as I came down on him. He had earned his pleasure and now he would get his reward. I gripped his shoulders and rolled over, he rolled with me, keeping his cock inside me as we adopted the classic missionary position. Do you think the missionary wives would have their legs wrapped over their husband’s shoulders, pussy gaping wide, hips thrust up off the bed to allow their husbands to plow deep into them, grunting with pleasure with each deep thrust?

Toby stroked into me, long and slow for about five minutes with the occasional pause to allow the intensity to subside, prolonging the action. I loved it. I squeezed my pussy muscles around his cock, milking him, trying to make him cum. We grinned at each other, acting like a pair of black and white loons in a rainstorm, loving every second of it. His tempo increased, going from a slow rock ballad to a up-beat disco pace until he reached his maximum of about 160 pumps a minute. He didn’t need the full minute though, not at that pace. After about thirty seconds at his maximum rate, he roared, threw his head back and came with a mighty shudder, a final thrust of his hips, smashing his cock hard up against me as his seed burst forth, hot, molten, turning me into a shaking pile of jelly as I came along with him for my sixth orgasm of the day. I grabbed his shoulders, pulling him close, hard up against me as I felt the love drain into me, his cock pulsing, my cunt grasping, draining every drop from his now deflating cock. We clung to each other, needful, desperate to feel the vacant space diminish, to lessen the loss we both felt so deeply. Minutes passed, Toby rolled away, his hands resting on his heaving chest, his body glistening with sweat after his exertion. His semi-limp cock lay on his thigh, a tiny drop of cum clinging to the tip. I dipped my finger, wiped it off and licked my finger clean.

“Darling, you are the sexiest woman I have ever known. Considering I only ever had sex with Melissa, and I thought she couldn’t be any more sexy, but you are a league above that. Where did you learn to behave like that?”

“Watching porn, mostly, and reading a lot of erotica. That and listening to the girls at school and college. A few of them would be right at home in some of the porn I’ve watched. It’s where most of us learn about sex now, not that porn is real, of course, but it does give you pointers!”

Hmmm. I wonder.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Hmmmm?”

“Nothing, really. Listen, Jerry has found himself a new girlfriend. She’s a lot younger than his ex, twenty-four. He sort of invited himself over for lunch on Sunday. He thinks maybe you two youngsters might hit it off. Jerry hasn’t told anyone at work yet. He wants our opinion on her before he goes public. I think he’s embarrassed by the age difference!”

“Great! That sounds so cool. We’ll have to be careful not to do anything that might arouse their suspicion. No touching. Pretend we’re at the office. What shall we cook? I can do the roast chicken if you like?”

I had begun cooking at the weekends, the same dishes that Mom cooked when she looked after us both so well.

“That’d be great. We can stop off at Lidl and get the stuff we need on the way home from work later. What are your plans for tomorrow?”

We had been shopping at Lidl ever since he and Jerry won a contract to distribute their product from the massive warehouse in Perryville, close to Baltimore, in Maryland. Saturdays were set aside for some ‘my time’. About six weeks after Mom passed, I had begun hanging out again with Sophie and Sarah, my old buddies from high school. They lived together in midtown, lovers since I don’t know when, way back at junior high, I guess. We had hung around like leeches for self-preservation at high school. They needed me because they were lesbians and I stood almost six feet tall and took no shit from anyone. I needed them because they never said a word about my height or my breasts, both of which rapidly increased when I turned thirteen. We became besties and have remained so ever since. I stopped seeing them after the funeral but when Sarah called one afternoon and told me to get over to their place for dinner, yenimahalle escort bayan I didn’t hesitate. Now we spent most Saturday afternoons together, shopping, taking coffee, maybe watching a movie and then dinner together downtown. Toby played squash or tennis with Jerry every Saturday afternoon so we didn’t feel like we were missing out on each other. Saturday mornings almost always began with a slow screw after a warm shower, setting us up for the rest of the day. I always rode Toby to orgasm, telling him he needed to conserve his energy for the racquet games later with Jerry. They were pretty evenly matched according to Daddy.

Sundays were Melissa and Toby days. Morning wood we put to good use, as we did sometimes on weekdays. Once we had both cum, quickly because we both needed to pee, we showered together, then another half an hour of raw sex before a late breakfast. The afternoons we spent watching football, hockey, or baseball all the while fooling around and occasionally interrupting the sport to engage in another bout of vigorous lovemaking. Daddy, Toby, had found a renewed stamina and could come three, sometimes four times on a normal Sunday. This weekend we would have to forgo the afternoon frolicking and curtail our naughtiness until they, Jerry and his new lady friend, left, whenever that might be.

2

Toby opened the door at midday on Sunday as Jerry rolled his Jaguar to a halt in our driveway. He dashed out and ran around to open the passenger side door. A tall, slender, elegant woman wearing hip hugging jeans and a white cotton shirt emerged from the silver-gray car. She looked as if she would be capable of opening the door herself but Jerry extended his hand and helped her out of the seat. They grinned at one another, like teenagers sharing a rude joke. Her sunglasses perched on top of her thick blonde hair, swept back into a long ponytail. I watched from the dining room window as they approached the front door. I heard the greetings and obvious cheek pressing as they came into the living room. I breezed in via the kitchen, letting the smell from the oven waft into the room. I extended my hand towards the beautiful young woman. She stood about a half inch shorter than me, making her about five eleven. I couldn’t help noticing her magnificent boobs. She must be a D cup, at least, I decided as we closed the gap between us.

“Hi, I’m Eva. Pleased to meet you.” she said.

“Hello. I’m um, Jodie. I’m so pleased to meet you.” I replied.

Distracted by her great looking body and her wide, open smile, I had almost introduced myself as Melissa! I would have kicked myself if I had not been in the presence of these three beautiful people. Nobody seemed to have noticed the slip, it was more of a mumble than a sound so no harm done. I deliberately didn’t look at Dad, Toby, worried that such a glance would just add fuel to the fire of suspicion, should there be any.

“What would you like to drink?” asked Dad.

“Eva, what will you have?”

“Do you have dry white wine? I’d love one mixed with soda, a weinschorle, we call it in Germany.”

“Eva is German.” said Jerry, unnecessarily considering she had quite a pronounced accent, not to mention the fact that she had just told us as much. Everyone laughed, even Jerry when he realized what he had said. Eva continued.

“We met when he and your father came to Lidl headquarters in Neckarsulm. I have been with them since I left University two years ago. I work in marketing and of course, I was on the team making the assessment of your company’s bid for the contract to distribute our product in the USA. We told him he needed more ell kah vay, sorry, trucks. LKW is what we call heavy goods vehicles in German. Hence the expansion going on for all of us! I hear you are their PA at the office, Jodie. Are they nice bosses to work with?”

Her smile widened as Jerry handed her a tall frosted glass of white wine with soda and ice. Daddy had found some glacé cherries and added one to the glass. I took the offered juice from Daddy and we all clinked our glasses. Jerry and Eva said,

“Prost!” as he tipped his beer glass to her schooner. Dad and I stuck with,

“Cheers!”

I returned to the kitchen to check on the progress of our lunch. Everything under control, just like Mom used to be when she cooked for us. Eva came into the room and leaned on the black granite worktop. She crossed her feet and smiled again.

“I do tend to talk rather a lot. It’s embarrassment, mainly.”

“I don’t mind at all, really.”

I checked the chicken through the glass door of the oven. It had already begun to brown nicely.

“Tell me a little about yourself, Jodie. I know some things from Jerry but what about you? How are you, really? Do you mind me asking?”

I studied her earnest, honest face. A hint of a concerned frown furrowed her smooth brow.

“Not at all. It’s nice to have someone else to talk to here at home. I guess you know our situation with my Mom passing a year ago. Dad and I are moral and emotional support for each other. I intended going back to college but now I’m going to stay with the firm. The job is great and everyone seems to think I make a positive contribution. So no college debt! I don’t care that I won’t have a Bachelor’s or whatever, I have a job and a good salary so I’m fine. All I have to do is work for Dad and Jerry until they retire, I guess!”

A family of four gets what’s cumming to them

All characters depicted here are well over 18 years old

……….

He (Luke’s 23 year old) awoke with lidded eyes. As he tried to rub them, the slightly slack chain on his wrists kept his hands where they were, and far from his countenance. What he could discern was that they – consisting of he and his similarly bound mother – were in a dimly lit cave located who knows where. The cool gentle breeze on his testicles and the fuzzy pink glow of his mom told him that they were not only restrained, but naked. At this point he could only make out the words…

“…uck you, let us out!,” his mom, Julia Anne (45 years old), exclaimed to an unseen recipient, “My husband is a big executive at the city police department. He’ll have a swat time here in minutes, if he hasn’t already!”

An unfamiliar sounding woman (Janet, age 43) laughed, “oh yes, Luke,” (age 49), “I know ALL about Luke. He negotiated a contract with me to supply the department with Kevlar vests. He took quite a liking to my curves, and the twinkle of lust in his eyes was unmistakable. That’s why MY husband and I recently hatched our little liberation campaign to get your whole family here. Soon enough you will thank us.”

‘Smug’ was not adequate to describe the invisible woman’s self-congratulatory sneer. Through the murky haze of his vision Kyle could barely discern that the mystery woman was clad in a black leather cinched waist bodice and matching mini dress. Her protruding breasts were barely held by the lurid set of studded cups. This, and her commanding throaty voice, gave her an unequivocal ‘I’m in charge’ aura.

Kyle also noticed an imposing male figure to her left (45 years old.) He was decked in shrink wrapped hip hugging vinyl pants, unlaced combat boots and a pair of bullet belts crossing at his shirtless hairy chest. The outfit revealed his bulge, and its prominence doubled with each passing minute. He was tall, built, with a slight paunch from the years, and had a chin-length grey-blonde center parted ‘coiff.’ He held still in a military at-ease stance as his superior, the Queen – his wife, issued her edicts. His nipples were unusually reddish and long for a male. He just stared at Kyle’s mom’s exposure. Clearly he was enjoying the visual of her svelte gams, those at which her own son had also secretly lusted.

The sight of the two strangers, presumably their captors, and his nude mother’s immodest showcasing of her moderate sized breasts, raised both his consciousness and his erection. His mother could not help but steal an appreciative sideways glance at her son’s girthy member. Kyle caught her peeping at it and proudly smiled to himself.

‘Heck, I’m naked too and mom’s staring at my hard dick,’ he was amazed by the thought, ‘…and chained to the ceiling like a Guantanamo prisoner. WTF!’

“I see you casting a gaze at your son in his ‘all-together’, and that you like what you see! That will serve our, and even YOUR, purposes quite nicely.

“I don’t know what sick game this is but you’ll never get away with it,” barked mom.

The vinyled man finally entered the conversation, “Oh how quaintly cliché.”

Her Majesty quickly interjected, “Show some compassion, dear. They only just arrived. Don’t fret, we’ll have them WHIPPED into shape in no time, but I have no doubt that they’ll find that out for themselves,” she proudly assuaged her counterpart, “Anyways, as I’ve alluded, we’ve brought you here to set you free. Free from sexual inhibition, free from societal norms, free to enjoy your all too short time in this life.”

Meanwhile, Julia Anne’s own figure was one of a softly aged Greek goddess chiseled in stone: long and lean and sporting a smart bob of darkened rose. For a woman who popped out two kids two decades ago (and still relishing hubby’s big dick), she looked tight as a drum. Kyle, as was his father, himself quite statuesque: green eyes, athletic torso and chest, all anchored by a set of taut hairless buns and a meaty neatly trimmed cock and scrotum.

“So here’s the deal: I am to be addressed as Mistress and uşak escort my husband, your patriarch, shall be Sir,” declares Mistress. “You are to service us in any manner of our choosing. Recalcitrance will be painfully reprimanded, compliance with pleasurable kudos. For you two, and the other two of your family, this place will serve as a training ground of sorts. You will be introduced as a family unit to other Dom/mes of this community. All of you will come to crave our directives eventually, everyone does.”

Sir continues for her, “shortly your family will be whole once my… our…”, he cautiously corrects himself in deference to Mistress, “minions have lured those absent into this lair. Until such time, let’s start with some basics…”

Suddenly the thick atmosphere is broken by the crashing of opening doors and the grunts from naked sweaty figures roughly escorted by buff masked guards. Both Kyle and his mom instantly recognize dad and sis despite their unfamiliar disheveled appearance.

Mistress then comments, “Perfect. The other half is here. Now we can begin.”

Julia’s daughter, 22 year old Colette (or Colly), can be described as the archetypical thin short stuff cheerleader body type with pure blonde pixie cut hair. Her tiny tits and matching wispy blonde pubes makes her almost waif-like, save for her wide hips which come naturally by way of mom.

Kyle’s dad, Luke, is solid for a late 40-something, but with a generous array of hair on his chest and pubic area. He sports a dark strip of hair marking the top of his butt schism, and one connecting his belly to his pubis.

Julia Anne was immediately enamored of these features ever since she first saw them when they started dating. The “3rd date rule” was cut short by one due to their mutual teen lust. Colette, too, was fond of her dad’s sexy hirsuteness. She had stolen many a peek at him exiting her parent’s ensuite bathroom shower. He had the delightful habit of leaving doors open, and immediately upon seeing this, her post-teen hairless pussy would drool with excitement. At these special times she felt the compulsion to pinch and pull her nipples as she leered at daddy’s smooth back and buns dripping with excess moisture from the shower. Her best views were when he unwittingly towel-dried his face, which afforded her to gawk at his full-frontal.

A short glimpse at his fat semi hard cock would give her the need to run to her room and frig herself off. Then there were times when he would bend forward facing away and dry his toes. She could then see his flexing butt muscles and cute winking star. Watching him squat down was a rare treat as it revealed his gape and the hairlets surrounding it.

The captive women’s recalled revelry was cut short by a boisterous lisping voice.

“Hiii-eee” said the voice as it came into view with a flash, “ooouuu, I see we have some new toys to play with. Hmmm”, he (Stephan, age 28) said appreciatively, “Me likey this manly daddy bear. Grrrr.” He then pointed to Kyle, “…and this tall glass of Nordic god näivete. Can I watch them 69 then fuck’em in the ass, OR MAYBE, a father son fuck train with me as the caboose?”

Sir: “STEPHAN! It would serve you right to be forced to be a Bukkake sponge for this outburst!”

Stephan (who enjoys flaunting his near 30 year old butt) ignores Sir’s chastisement and circumnavigates both father and son with his left index finger pivoting on their shoulders. He pauses at their backs and takes a longer ‘ASS-essment.’

Then Stephan puts that finger on his bottom lip in mock contemplation and muses out loud, “Umm, umm, ummmm, these four buns will be just fine to slip my cock between.”

Mistress, “Sir, Stephy is getting impatient, and frankly so am I. It’s time to play with our new-found scrumptious food.”

Sir, “Stephan, would you do the honours of disengaging these two from their shackles and placing dad and sis next to them?”

Stephan does this with relish and gives dad a good slap-ass. Dad jumps. Stephan takes his place slightly behind Sir and Mistress (abbreviated S&M.) The family members uşak escort bayan nervously look at each other with their eyes wide as saucers. There seems to be a tacit assurance amongst themselves that this will turn out alright, maybe even good. There’s a subtle mutual curiosity, or hopeful anticipation, at where this might lead. Their silent communication was not lost on S&M.

Mistress says, “Mom you are to lay down here on the mat. Daughter will straddle and face fuck you with her pussy and asshole. Junior will be licking mommy’s cunny, and I better hear a screaming ‘O’ from her, and see a gush of her love juice all over your face.”

Sir, “Daddy you’re on your knees to suck all up and down your sonny boy’s hiney. Stephan? Stephan!”, yelled Sir at Stephan’s wanton gawk at Luke’s delicious mature figure, “Focus, or you’ll be put at the front of a Conga fuck line and get nothing for your efforts. As I was saying, Stephan will be privileged to stuff his pathetic stub into daddy’s buns of steel of which he is so enamored. Begin.”

At first the family is quite tentative, prompting Sir’s empathetic encouraging directive, “go on…”

Kyle stares longingly at his mom’s glistening pussy and unabashedly dives in. He’s relieved to finally live out his long held fantasy. It’s almost as hot as the ones he has of making his sister his constant love servant, often envisioning her on her knees blowing him as she furiously rubs her pussy and begs him to let her come.

Julia is initially shocked at her son’s abject hunger for her quim, but gradually starts to tilt her head back and loudly moans in ecstasy, “Oh yeah my boy, suck mommy’s pussy and make her cum!”

When Julia Anne’s head meets the mat again, Colette, never one to miss out on her own pleasure, quickly sinks down upon her mommy’s mouth. She is then torn between closing her eyes to fully enjoy her mom’s ministrations, or watching bro devour mom’s sloppy cunt as sexy daddy tongue fucks his ass and balls.

Colette chooses to focus on the squalid vision of Luke pulling Kyle’s dick backwards behind his legs and sucking it loudly, “that’s it daddy. Suck his big teenage cock! Slide your lips along my brother’s taint. Oh! You do that so good. Bet you’ve done this before daddy, maybe lots of times!”

Dad grimaced while he looked at his daughter guiltily, concerned about being busted for his past bisexual dalliances. Collene is also privy to Stephan’s raping of Luke’s ass with his relatively short member as both men profusely moan and perspire. She says to herself, ‘Stephan’s nothing compared to her daddy’s or bro’s yummy big ones.’

All members of the family quartet are increasingly yielding to their lustful pursuits. It becomes apparent to S&M that their predictions were indeed accurate: this family would collectively succumb to their long suppressed desires for each other’s bodies, pussies, tits, asses, cocks, tongues and mouths. Julia Anne begins to shake with orgasm, and she pushes her vulva curtains further apart to gain Kyle’s better access. Her screams of joy are muffled by her daughter’s pussy clamping down on her.

Sis’s pleasure is enhanced by mom’s orgasmic voice buzzing just like her own clit vibrator does, “I’m cumming mom, use your tongue on my asshole”, and at that, both women come hard and wet.

Kyle lifts his head momentarily, despite Julia Anne’s mute protestations, and is frozen by the beautiful vision before him of his family’s women in dual sexual joy. Dad takes it upon himself to surround his son’s ball sac with one hand, gently caressing the undersides, while also sucking his forefinger on the other hand until good and slimy. He then alternately inserts and retracts said digit into Kyle’s waiting asshole. It’s soft and warm on the inside, just as his hole is to Stephan.

Between this and dad’s lavishing of his exposed privates (private no more), Kyle lets loose a torrent of cum so forceful that it rebounds off the padded floor and splashes onto his own stomach. The constricting of his son’s asshole on his deeply probing tongue immediately stirs Luke’s loins escort uşak to the brink. Stephan seals the deal by grabbing a handful of Luke’s ass cheeks. He squashes them into pale mounds of flesh to use as a handle for his now violent penile stabbing. Stephan grinds his sweaty hips against Luke’s balls and ignites the fuse.

Stephan, without warning, is about to fire into Luke’s anal canal, “Take my cum old man. Here it comes, uhhh”, and continued his strained cries, “What a cum sponge that old ass is, it gripped me good when I came.”

Luke grunts with satisfaction and doubles his efforts at stroking his son. The boys are transported to a heavenly bliss as the girls collapse from exhaustion over them, forming a human pile of flesh.

As Mistress claps with joy, “What a performance. Better than expected, considering what a high bar we had set for y’all. And that brings up a point, that is us, your gracious hosts,” speaking to the siblings, “Your lovely lascivious parents will lick upon my ass and girl parts while brother dearest sucks my ample titties.”

Sir, “That leaves the nubile daughter to service lucky me. Be a sweetie and bend forwards so as to accommodate my sceptor in your putang so graciously spit lubed by your momma. Make sure to spread your cheeks for me little girl, for I won’t have my view of your hungry hole sucking my cock be obscured.”

“You always did have a way with words, my dear,” Mistress compliments him and sidles next to her true love.

Sir whispers to his mistress wife, “I will have my way with you after we bid this group goodnight.”

Mistress giggles at her loving wordsmith and tilts her head sideways to reach his lips for a passionate kiss. All assume their respective prescribed stations and commence round 2. Colly eagerly accepts Sir’s long staff into her sopping wet young pussy and immediately begins to groan with delight. She grabs hold of Luke’s dick and flicks her tongue about the head with urgency, making sure to concentrate on the sensitive under-ridge.

Luke’s ass is sharply slapped by Mistress to cause him to jump forwards and fully lodge his lodgepole into his daughter’s orifice. She sputters yet hums at the forceful intrusion. Luke nearly cums on the spot when his cock tip abruptly abrades Colly’s tongue. Mistress contracts a hand around his entire ball-sac, then gives it a moderate squeeze. Her randiness progressively elevates when her holes are simultaneously slurped by the eager tongues below.

Colly surrounds Luke’s cock base with both hands and pumps up and down his shaft. With the two fisted handjob he then copiously ejaculates upon Colly’s face and tits, causing Sir to return fire into Colly’s tight young vag. This triggers her second peak of the night, and she gasps for air from the thundering ‘O.’

Mistress lets go of Kyle to concentrate on her own multiple releases. She momentarily slumps her head upon her husband’s shoulder before silently directing Kyle supine onto the mat. This allows his mom to mount him in reverse cowboy. It doesn’t take long for her to lay her back on her son’s chest, pleading with him to maul her breasts and tweak their sharply pointed nipples. She further divides her knees as he jackhammers her spreading maternal pussy from below, leaving her to surrender to his merciless onslaught. Mom then emits what seems like a quart of pussy water all over Kyle’ legs, wilting cock and balls. Her lady cum seeps conspicuously between their cheek chasms and tickles their assholes.

Kyle screams during his release with a booming “Ahhhhhhh…” and an “Ummph” when he injects his sperm from his swelling cock into mom’s vagina, the very one through which he was birthed. They’re all left in a heap, trying desperately to regain their wind. Stephan, who can only marvel as an observer of the scene, bids a silent farewell to his superiors. They return his wave from a reclining position on the floor, too spent to usher words of salutation to him.

“That was wonderful. My compliments to your excellent choreography, dear, it was most satiating”, Mistress struggles from exhaustion to say.

Sir, “I couldn’t agree more, but now’s the time to have our weary revelers take their rest, for in the morrow the fun will be even more intense.”

… But wait, there’s more, but you’ll have to be patient (and horny enough from it) to continue with this saga…

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Laney’s voice was husky with lust as she asked, “Was that only a one-time thing?”

Jill grinned, and said, “No, not by a long shot. I was hooked by her dad’s skill at fucking, and the next two nights I went back to his bed, and let him use my body. Deedee would be watching, masturbating to what she saw, then she and I would have a hot, sex-drenched session when I returned to her bed.”

“That second time, when we were in a 69, I decided that I wanted to give as good as I got, and I ran my tongue along her taint. I had never touched another girl’s asshole, but Deedee’s looked so fresh and clean. It gleamed in the glow from the nightlight, as pink and pearly as her drenched pussy, and when I lightly ran my tongue around it, she moaned deep and low. Encouraged, I started to lap more forcefully at her sweet starfish, and I felt her mouth respond in kind, god the feel of us both ass eating each other was red hot.”

“She paused and cooed, ‘Finger bang my tight little asshole,’ and I did so immediately, moaning as she copied my actions, and drove a wet finger into my ass. We were both lust-crazed, sucking at throbbing clits, finger fucking each other’s hot holes, and when we exploded, we flooded each other’s faces. The juices splattered all over the big bath towels that Deedee had wisely put beneath us.”

“Deedee again ate her daddy’s cum from my pussy, this time, she skipped the fingers and went straight to sucking it out of me, moaning about how good daddy tasted.”

“We spent many sleepovers at her house, and everyone had Greg getting a piece of my willing ass, then Deedee getting hers. He took my anal cherry, and Deedee really gave me a finger buggering to remember, ‘Mmmm, daddy’s cum had made your sweet little asshole so slick,’ and she added a second finger, and it was only a few moments after that before I exploded all over her face.”

Jill had been watching Laney’s responses, the flushed face, heavy breathing, and bright eyes all bespoke of her eager needs. Mmmm, I think I can take another one of her virginities, with the help of my Sybian. It was the Cadillac of vibrators, it may have cost 1250 dollars, but it was worth every penny. It was time for her daughter to feel it, the way the dildo would turn inside her in an arc pattern, hitting the G spot, it was beyond any other kind of handheld vibrator.

“Now my sweet Laney, I want you to take a ride on the Sybian!”

Jill rose, and smiling, took Laney’s hand and led her over. The bedroom was carpeted, and an extra square of free carpet with a large bath mat had been placed below the machine.

Jill was about to switch out the attachments when Laney whispered, “Leave that one there, I want to take the dildo that was just inside you.”

Jill’s face was full of heat, their eyes met, and Laney was about to bare all to her Mom. They’d never look at each other the same way as they did before. The thought did not distress her.

Laney yozgat escort purred, “I’m looking forward to riding while you watch me.”

Jill went over to the closet and took out the padded stool. She placed it just in front of the Sybian.

“You will cum like never before, baby, so you might need this for support. It’s also good for when you want to ride for a long time, now, climb on up, you are going to love it.”

Laney straddled the machine, lowering herself down, and she let out a purr of pleasure as she felt the dildo sliding inside of her.

Jill gave her a most wicked smile, as she cooed, “Now comes the best part.”

She took the control box, and said, “These dials control the vibration and the rotation. And for your first time, I am going to be in control of your pleasure! Another virginity to be taken!”

“The… rotation?”

Jill turned the rotation dial up, and Laney gasped as she felt the dildo starting to turn inside her.

“Oh my god!”

When the vibration dial was turned up the ridges against her clit started, Laney let out a long, loud moan, god, it was fucking fantastic. The dildo inside her swirled around.

“It feels sooo good, Mmmmm!”

“Yes sweetheart, ride it, feel how it hits the G spot!”

“It’s turning around, inside me, I can’t believe how good it feels!”

Laney’s hips were moving all on their own, the ridges that were situated just in front of the dildo were rubbing right against her clit while the dildo rubbed over her G spot on every pass. It felt so amazing, she could barely stand the extreme pleasure. Her nipples felt like steel hand bumps, her pussy was so wet she could hear the squelching as she rode, back and forth, round and round.

Laney felt the hot, wet sensation, and she opened her eyes, letting out a long coo as Jill attached her mouth to Laney’s left nipple, and her tongue licked and laved at it. She went to her right nipple and repeated the sizzling pleasure.

Laney stared at the mirror reflection, watching herself get off. She could feel that tingling sensation right between her thighs, she was going to cum so hard. Her body started to quiver, and Jill could feel the quivering as she doted on her daughter’s nipples, and she cranked both dials up to FULL.

“Oh god!” Laney cried out, as the rotation of the dildo sped up and the vibrations intensified. Laney was staring at the reflection, her body ready to explode, her Mom’s head between her breasts, switching back and forth from one nipple to the other. Laney could feel the impending orgasm, it was going to be a massive explosion.

Jill’s eyes were bright and she licked her lips as she watched her daughter bucking and moaning on the Sybian, her hips rocking, fucking it fast and hard. Laney shuddered and grabbed onto the stool in front of her, gripping the edges and biting her lower lip to keep from actually screaming, yozgat escort bayan the pleasure was reaching a shattering conclusion. Laney was inundated with waves of pulsing sensations.

“Nngghh, Nngghh, NNNGGGGHHHHH, Yes, oh fuck, gonna cum!”

She heard Jill’s voice, barking at her, “Cum for your Mommy, cum real hard, feel the machine fucking you and CUM FOR ME!”

That did it, and Laney let out a wordless scream of pleasure, the way the dildo kept stroking over her G spot on each pass, and the vibrating pad right against her clit, launched her. Laney was inundated with waves of pulsing sensations, she felt the building pressure, that squeezing urge, she tightened and squeezed hard, and her body was wracked with a massive wave of orgasmic force, as her girl cum sprayed out, oh fuck, it was incredible, spasms of thundering pleasure ripped through her, and she let her cum go full force. Wave after wave, wickedly hard spasms that didn’t stop, the spinning dildo kept going, her clit was being vibrated, she screamed again as the orgasms took her, one after the other, she was howling, growling and shrieking, the pleasure beyond anything she had ever felt.

“Please, oh please, stop it, I feel like I’m gonna go insane!”

Jill dialed down the controls, and she lifted Laney, and Laney gratefully sprawled back on the carpet. Her pussy was still having shockwaves, like mini orgasms, she clamped her hand over it to get it to calm down. She’d made a mess of the machine, she could feel the soaking mass of her vulva against her hand.

Jill cooed, “Not to worry, it’s easy to clean up. But, before we do…”

Laney watched as Jill straddled the Sybian. Jill drove her hips down, letting out a loud ahhh of pleasure as the dildo slid up inside of her. It was still warm and wet from her daughter’s ride, and she was loving the sharing nature of what they were doing.

“Oh my god!” Jill cried, turning the dials on the remote. “It feels so fucking amazing!”

“Yes! Ohhhh Yesss!” Jill bit her lip and went for broke, turning everything up to the highest setting and tossing the remote aside. Watching Laney riding the Sybian had been amazing, Jill’s lust had gone to white-hot, her eyes closed, her legs began to tremble, and Laney watched, breathless, as Jill’s orgasm beckoned her on, riding the Sybian.

It didn’t take long, Jill was way too excited to last. She spun out a quick fantasy, riding the Sybian while her sister Julie presented her sweet butt to Jill’s face, cooing, “If you can deal with my sass, eat my ass!”

As she imagined planting her mouth against her sister’s pink puckered starfish, kissing, licking, and fingering Julie’s tightly clenched asshole, she could feel the building up, Jill felt her nervous system being shaken by waves of sizzling pleasure, and her screams filled the bedroom as she went over, her pussy spasming crazily, juices pouring out escort yozgat of her like a rain-swollen Niagara. Jill’s body was being shaken by wave after wave, her body was flopping around, the waves of orgasm pounding at her.

Laney grabbed up the abandoned remote and dialed her down, her Mom looked almost delirious, as she slid off the Sybian like a warm pool of jelly. She sprawled out on the carpet, feeling the comforting press of Laney’s body against hers, she felt Laney’s hand come down and gently cup her mons, helping Jill’s pussy to relax.

As they sailed through the afterglow, both of them realized that the Mother-Daughter relationship had taken on a whole new dimension. It was an interesting dimension, and both of them knew that they were going to explore it in more detail. That Genie was out of the bottle, and neither of them felt the desire to try and bottle it back up.

***

A short time later, they were between the sheets of the master bed.

Jill cooed, “Now, tell me everything you did to your Uncle Tony.”

Laney did not hold back, she described everything in sex-drenched details, and Jill could feel her pussy warming up quickly. So for that matter, did Laney, recalling everything from her virgin splitting fuck, to getting her mouth flooded, and the opening of her virgin asshole was making her sweet little snatch achy and wet with need.

As she finished her torrid recollections with all the cunt lickings and reamings of the weekend, Laney felt the bed move, and she opened her eyes to see her Mom’s pussy hovering above her face. She felt her Mom’s body stretching, getting into the bellies on breasts 69 positions.

Jill purred, “You must be as hot and wet as I am, let’s do a lesbian 69, and cum all over each other’s face!” When Laney felt her Mom’s tongue lick gently at her labia lips, she moaned, and her Mom purred, “Oh yes, just as wet as I am.”

Laney was almost spellbound, she was staring at the first pussy she was going to lick. Her head spun, the virginities were being blown apart, and the tight slot, the sweet-spicy scent, and seeing the lips, all wet and slick with her Mom’s juices, she was more than eager to dine on that feast of lust.

Her tongue slid out as she grasped her Mom’s hips, and brought her closer. She licked at the juicy lips, her tongue flicking along that pink trail, enjoying her Mom’s purr of pleasure. She felt her Mom’s tongue slip between the part, and she quickly did the same, mouthing the tasty juices.

Both of them were soon lapping away at each other’s tight little assholes, non stop moans and cries of pleasure filling the bedroom, fingers plunging into eager holes, tongues lapping at throbbing clits, and matching screams of pleasure as they crested like a unified being, united by the glorious burst of orgasmic rapture bonding them.

Sprawled out in the afterglow, Laney cooed, “Mom, would you like to get a three-way with my Auntie Julie and Uncle Tony?”

Jill did not even try to dodge the question, and she cooed, “More than ever, but how do I bring that up to them?”

Laney smiled, and she said, “I think the best way is to be direct. Place yourself in my hands and we’ll craft an offer they can’t refuse!”

Cy

I pulled the Hemi into the garage. During a song Chloe had informed me was called “Supermassive Black Hole” by a band called Muse, she had drifted off to sleep.

I unhooked my phone, noting that the battery was nearly drained. I reached over and gently touched her forearm to rouse her.

“Home again,” I said.

“Jiggity-jig,” she stretched, yawning fully awake. “I feel dirty.”

“Literally or figuratively?” I asked.

“Literally,” she smiled, rolling her eyes. “I’ve got grime under my fingernails and about a half-pint of your cum in my–“

“I get the idea,” I said.

She kissed my earlobe. A soft little peck. “You want to wallow in self-loathing; I’m going to mess with you, you know?”

I climbed out of the Plymouth’s driver’s side door and let it swing shut. I considered its British racing green finish and chromed side window mounts.

“You done good,” she said, patting my shoulder as she slid over and propped up on her knees in the driver’s seat. “Now, you reheat some pizza while I take a quick shower?”

“Actually,” I said. “It’s better to take a hot bath.”

“Oh?”

“With Epsom salt,” I added, tugging gently at the collar of her overalls. “You go up and have a long soak, huh? I’ll whip up something special for dinner.”

“You really think I’m worth more than just reheated pizza?”

I put my arms around her waist and lifted her out of the car. We walked into the house, shutting the garage door and turning out the light behind us.

“Well, I’m short-stocked on champagne and caviar,” I sighed. “But there is chicken. I might even set out the cloth napkins and light a candle or two.”

Chloe

“You sentimental fool,” I said. Flicking his ear as I scampered through the kitchen and up the stairs toward the master bath.

I ditched my coveralls and underwear in the hamper and turned on the water, going to the little cupboard under the sink. I dug out a little carton of lavender bath salts and a selection of scented bath bombs.

I smelled one or two before deciding on something floral that went with the lavender. I tossed the bomb into the flooding bathtub with a liberal handful of Epsom salt.

I went and sat for a minute or two on the commode, lighting a few of the scented candles as the bath filled up and the room swirled with decadently florid-smelling steam.

When the tub was nearly 3/4 full, I stood and shut off the water, arranging the candles and plugging my phone into the Bluetooth speaker before sliding into the hot bath.

My body definitely felt like it had been through a marathon of sex in the past 24 hours.

I considered that time-lapse as I stuck my big toe in the faucet, looking up at the showerhead.

Less than a day ago, he had been standing in this very shower, minding his own business, when I had barged in and flung myself against him.

What was that old song? “What a difference a day makes?”

I sank into the hot water, letting it flow over my head, holding my breath for several seconds with my eyes closed, listening to the muffled sound of Ariana Grande singing Side to Side.

He was right. Of course, this wouldn’t last.

I surfaced, wiping my eyes and reaching forward for the loofah. The thin dark brown bar of soap he’d been using the night before was in a dish. I took it up, inhaling the rich smell of pine and campfire smoke. My eyes drifted across the room to beside the sink, where his shaving kit sat on a shelf on the right.

The little black-and-white man in the top hat watched from his green and gold bottle as I began using Cy’s soap bar to work up a lather of my own.

Who says girls can’t smell like lavender and campfires?

Cy

I took the chicken out of the fridge where it had been defrosting and set it out on the counter with garlic cloves, olive oil, and some Cremini mushrooms.

Upon setting down the mushrooms, I realized I was still a little grotty under the fingernails and looked down at my filthy overalls.

Shower first, gourmet second.

I made for the stairs and reached the landing when I heard music and the sounds of water dripping in the master bath.

I listened a moment to her humming along to the music and smiled to realize she had somehow ended up crooning an old Tony Bennett standard.

I turned and flipped on the light switch in the hall bathroom. Kicking off my workbooks, I peeled off the coveralls along with my jeans, and I turned on the shower at full heat and pressure.

I took a quick look at myself in the mirror. I rubbed the stubble on my neck, wondering if it was rude to go down the hall and request my razor and shaving foam.

I shook my head. No. She needed a long uninterrupted soak in the tub.

I turned to the shower and looked at the punk bottle of floral-scented body wash.

I pursed my lips and looked at the pink towel on the rack.

(Sigh.)

Chloe

I hummed along with Nancy Sinatra when I heard a gentle tap at the door.

“Can I come in?” He asked from the other side of the door.

“I don’t know,” I called. trabzon escort “Can you?”

The door cracked. “I meant, ‘May I?'”

I smiled and rolled to the edge of the tub, bringing my forearms under my chin and smiling at him smugly. “I’m naked,” I said.

He smelled his soap. “I came to borrow…”

I passed it to him. “Hope you don’t mind. Now I smell like a pine tree.”

He accepted it, keeping his hand on the towel around his waist. I eyed his hairy chest, the old army tattoo on his shoulder, the v shape of his obliques.

He moved to pick up his shaving foam and aftershave from beside the sink.

“You don’t have to use the hall bathroom,” I said, leaning back and drizzling water from the loofah.

“Hardly room for two,” he said. “And you need to soak. I can simply shower.”

“Can you stay just a bit? I like looking at your butt in a towel.”

He gave me a quizzical look but started the hot water in the sink. He spurted some of the foam into his palm and began applying it to his stubble. “Do you force all your boyfriends to play eye candy?”

“You’re the first,” I said. “If I’d have known you were coming from my bathroom, I’d have asked you to bring my Comfort Glide,” I felt along the light stubble on my legs.

He reached under the sink and tossed me a Ladies Gillette still in its packaging. “Your mom always keeps a spare,” he said.

And there it was…

I exhaled, removing the razor from the packaging and grabbing the ladies’ shaving cream from the shower basket.

“Think she’ll call?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he sighed, dragging his razor down his cheek.

“Gonna talk to her if she does?”

“Sure,” he smiled. “Tell her about what a dull day I had.”

“Me too,” I smiled. “In an attempt to develop a vaccine for pneumonia, Fred Griffith performed a series of experiments in 1928 using mice and two strains of the pneumococcus bacteria….”

He finished his cheeks and under his nose before taking the long strokes down his neck. It made a faint sound as he dragged the blades through his stubble.

Jesus… this was getting stupid. The sound of him shaving? Really? Is it really that sexy, Chloe?

He finished and shook some of the aftershave into his palm, applying it to his face.

“How bad does that sting?” I asked. “Always wondered that about guys’ aftershave.”

He turned and dipped some on his fingertip. He touched it to the patch of skin I had cleared on my ankle.

“Ow! Oh, God, that burns.”

He smiled, sitting on the edge of the tub, still in the peach bath towel.”You get used to it after using the same stuff for 30 years.”

I leaned forward and touched his smooth chin. “Not even a nick,” I smiled, presenting the ladies’ razor. “You hire out?”

He accepted the pink razor and considered it. “Just the legs?”

“Why? I got a bikini wax a week ago. You saying they missed a spot?”

He flicked water at my face and brought my foamy leg up onto his lap. He began gently working the razor down from my knee to my ankle, smoothly and gently, focused on keeping steady.

Eventually, he finished my shin and around my ankle, and I had to scoot forward and lift my leg so he could shave my calve. One leg finished, I twirled around in the bath, and he repositioned, doing the other leg just as smoothly and carefully.

“There you go,” he said, presenting the razor. “Now, I want to go get the grime out from under my fingernails before I fix us dinner.”

“I could give you a manicure,” I said, examining his big dirty fingers. They were rough with callouses, but I felt I could trace the lines on the backs of his knuckles for eons. “Mom has the stuff, doesn’t she?”

“Chlo, I–“

The phone rang downstairs–that old-fashioned trilling of the corded landline.

“Yeah,” I said, sinking into the tub. “I understand.”

Cy

Her head disappeared beneath the steaming surface of the tub. I hurried down the stairs with a firm grip on my towel, headed for the kitchen phone.

What if it was Christine? Would she know it all from my voice? Would she hear my guilt? My shame? My lust?

“What have you been up to, Cy?”

I would crack like a nut the moment she asked the vaguest question. I knew.

“I fucked her! I fucked Chloe, and it was nirvana! I fucked your daughter and felt hell breathing down my neck as I did it, but I kept going!”

I grabbed the receiver out of the cradle. “Brown,” I said.

There was a brief static pause on the other end of the call before a male voice spoke.

“Is this 978-555-2067?”

“Yes,” I said. “Who’s this?”

“Is Chloe there?”

I scowled at the phone. Nobody called this line asking for anybody but me. “Who is calling, please?”

“It’s about her mother. Could you get her, please? It’s import–.”

And then the line popped, a simple sound of the line going dead.

“Hello?” I pressed the switch waiting for the sound of the open line, but nothing happened. I scowled and cradled the receiver. I checked the cable leading from trabzon escort bayan the phone, and then, out of the corner of my eye, I sensed a slight shadow of movement.

Pow!

Lights out. Thanks for playing, Mr. Brown.

Lyndee

He collapsed on the kitchen floor, just a pile of muscles with a towel wrapped around him.

I considered the bit of him the towel had revealed as he fell. “Well,” I thought. “What’s the harm in a little fun?”

I had found the house just as the hunky Chief and his redheaded daughter pulled up in their vintage convertible.

Along with the nice wheels, I watched the two of them paling around as the garage door closed.

Everything about the picturesque house in the country with the manicured lawn and the neatly trimmed hedges was right out of some back-issue of Better Homes and Gardens.

I found a small access road and parked with a view of the house through some woods.

Once they’d parked and shut the garage doors, I checked my watch in the fading twilight.

It was just past 7.

Let’s give it half an hour.

I watched through binoculars until I saw first the light go on in the master bath and then one go on in what I had determined was the girl’s bathroom.

Sitting conspicuously in a parked car, I felt exposed. I did not know this area well, and while no cars passed me the first ten minutes on this access road, it was only a matter of time.

My cell buzzed.

Message from Van Meer:

“Is it done?”

I scowled. I weighed the costs and benefits of going in blind.

He was most likely just a small-town cop. Some of my research into his background had tripped a few wires that gave me a reason to be cautious, but I had the element of surprise.

They wouldn’t be suspecting me.

I took my gun out of its place under my arm and took the silencer out of its case on the passenger seat. I screwed the silencer in place and holstered the weapon. As a backup, I took a 21-inch expandable police baton.

Getting in was easy. Nobody locks their garage doors in the suburbs. I heard a shower briefly above and from further away in the house old-timy music.

I considered the tunes and took in the laundry room to my right. I checked the door to my left, finding stairs down into a cellar. A few short steps and I was in an elegant kitchen complete with breakfast nook, all of it done in white wood with black granite countertops and stainless steel appliances.

Chicken was out on a plate defrosting with some garlic, olive oil, ingredients for some sort of mushroom sauce.

I smiled, reading the backs of the cans. A dad who cooks some girls have all the luck.

Upstairs, I heard the music go on for a few minutes. Tony Bennett gave way to Nancy Sinatra and then Billie Holiday.

I sat up on the counter and dug out the little vaporizer I used when regular cigarettes were unwieldy.

I nodded at the tunes exhaling vapor that smelled vaguely of devil’s food cake.

Then it happened.

Ring! Ring!

An old-style kitchen telephone I had failed to notice rang loudly on the wall. I jumped down, suddenly realizing there was a landline that needed to be cut.

“Shit.”

I did a quick calculation and headed through the door to the basement. It closed just as a kitchen light went on, and the phone came out of the receiver mid-ring.

I quietly went down and smiled, finding the phone cable trailing down from above. I brought out my little pocket knife and flicked it open.

The plastic coating squeaked as I cut the chord, and above I heard a masculine voice and the sound of a giggled toggle.

Knife away. Baton out. He was against the kitchen counter with the towel thrown away thirty seconds later.

I found the handcuffs and his gun in the laundry room. I put his magnificently dirty hands behind his back and felt the cuffs click tightly in place.

I kissed his cheek, looking down. “Familiar with Carrivagio by any chance?”

Chloe

I sat in the tub until the water grew tepid and my fingers were pruny.

My ass felt fine, but my conscience was all twisted and gnarled.

He was on the phone with her and… and? AND!?

How did I feel about having an affair with a married man?

Oh, wait. How did I feel about having an affair with a man who was married to my mother!?

Jesus… what kind of inbred toothless backwater hick nightmare of twisted perversion had I gotten myself into!?

I pulled the stopper from the old cast-iron bath and sat up, hugging my knees as the water spiraled down the drain.

“End in tears…” I buried my mouth in the corner of my elbow and chewed the inside of my cheek thoughtfully.

The tub ran dry. I shivered and found one of his big fluffy robes to wrap up in. I smelled the collar. It was freshly cleaned, but I went to the bathroom counter and found his aftershave.

I dabbed a few drops on my fingers and rubbed them into the collar. I smelled again, my eyes closed, and there was an image of him holding me, wearing escort trabzon that battered old leather jacket, holding me tight and kissing me.

I shook my head and turned off the music. I pulled my phone off the charger and put it in the robe’s pocket.

I went along the upper landing, doing my best not to listen if he was still on the phone.

I heard nothing but the sound of movement below and called down. “I’m going to read in my room. Call me when it’s soup, huh?”

I didn’t wait for him to respond and instead went directly to my room and shut the door.

Cy

Ammonia. It rushed up my nose, causing me to cough around a mouth full of dish towel affixed with duct tape.

The tall, auburn-haired woman in tactical pants and swat boots batted my head a few times to make sure I was fully awake before going to the stovetop and lighting one of the burners. She set the saute pan over the flame and drizzled some olive oil.

“You don’t see a lot of classic wall phones with the long chord anymore,” she said.

I was cuffed, hands behind my back. The phone cable had been used to bind my ankles, knees, and neck in an elaborate sort of harness.

I struggled to straighten out and felt the chord bite into my neck.

“You struggle too much you cut off your air,” the woman said, mincing the garlic and tossing it in the pan. She smelled her fingers. “I love that smell. Where I live, I never get to cook for myself, and I used to love to, you know?”

She moved close and leaned down, presenting her fingers. “Here, it helps with the Ammonia smell,” she said.

Her eyes held mine in an almost friendly way. I stopped struggling and inhaled, humoring her.

“Now, don’t cry out,” she said quietly. “You cry out, little Miss sunshine comes down the stairs and….” A Glock 26 pistol fitted with a silencer came out of a holster under her arm. “Pop clink. Pop clink. And then I pick up my brass, blow out the pilot light on the stove, and leave you to die with the gas on high. Horrible way to go, Chief.”

She removed the dishrag. And went to the stove, adding the chicken and some rosemary sprigs, again smelling the spices.

“Do I have to be naked?” I asked.

She smiled. “Why be bashful? You’re very handsome. Do you box?”

“No,” I said. “I fight.”

“The difference being rules?”

I nodded. “Who are you?”

“Oh, you’ve got angry eyes,” she smiled, shaking her head. “Maybe I could turn on the gas and leave a candle burning? That’s less fun for me but just as effective. How would you do it if you were me?”

“I wouldn’t kill innocent people in the first place,” I said.

“Well, you’re not being ordered to, are you?”

“Ordered? Who have I pissed off in Belarus?”

“Oh, excellent ear. Most people think I am simply Russian.

“Your English is excellent,” I said.

“Thank you, Leroy. And despite having your birth name and very impressive background with the Boston Police and as a small-town police chief, there is a sweet five-year hole in your life that can only be American Intelligence. CIA or just Army Special Forces?”

“Cy,” I said. “And I was an MP.”

She nodded. “Suit yourself.” She selected a knife from the kitchen block and tested its sharpness before slicing the mushrooms and dropping them in the bowl with the cream sauce.

I nodded. “Do I get your name, kachanaja?”

She smiled. “Definitely CIA,” she said. “Here I am called ‘Lyndee.’ Definitely a good-time-girl name. Far better than Ludmilla, don’t you think?”

She let the bowl drizzle the sauce over the carefully browned chicken and reduced the flame.

“Okay, whatever I’ve done, Lyndee. My daughter has nothing to do with my former life. Please, you can take me in your car. I will go quietly.”

She took a fork and speared some of the chicken from the pan, bringing it with the pan and blowing on it before holding it out for me. “Taste. Tell me if it needs something?”

It was disarming. I accepted the bite and chewed.

She smirked, and then looking down, she let some of the hot oil and sauce drip out of the pan onto my bare thigh.

It sizzled on my skin, and I bit back the yelp of surprised pain.

“Sorry,” she said. “Missed what I was aiming for.”

Another drizzle of hot oil, this time I clamped my eyes shut and held my breath until it came out in short rapid pants.

“Impressive,” she said, stepping back and putting the pan on the counter. She took the knife she’d used to chop the mushrooms and held it in the low flame of the stove. “How long do you think you can go, maja darahaja? Without crying out?”

“What is it you want?”

She took the heated knife from the stove and angled her head to look up the stairs. “To meet the family,” she said.

I looked at the blade held in the flame. “Is it a sociopath or a psychopath who makes a game out of murder?”

“Name-calling? Really?” She brought the heated blade over and held it close to my cheek, just below my eye. I could feel the heat near my skin. “You know,” She blew on the blade, making it glow. “A lot of guys cry out in fear before you even touch them with this…”

She looked down again. “Maybe I give you a break and start a little higher up, eh?” She pressed the hot knife just beneath my left nipple.

The burning smell of my own flesh, along with the pain, caused me to bite back a yelp.

Author’s Note: Trans, incest, romance. Any of those make you feel dry, go elsewhere.

—

“What do you think of the cutie over at the bar?” Frank nudged Cohen, who looked up tiredly from his drink.

It wasn’t hard to see exactly who the man was indicating. She was sitting on her own, stirring a straw idly in her drink and ignoring the clustering of guys intent on talking to her.

She was cute. There wasn’t really a better fitting word for the blonde. She was short, probably only chest height on Cohen. Her blue eyes were a bright blue that tickled at Cohen’s memory, but failed to surface anything. She wore two large golden hooped earrings, and a red tartan miniskirt, with a plain black t-shirt stretched tight over a tiny rack.

Cohen looked away as she caught him looking, and whispered to Frank, “She’s hot. Why, you going to make a move? She doesn’t seem interested.”

“I wish. She’s been making eyes at you all night.” His friend said jealously.

He frowned, and glanced over at her again. She was holding her glass one-handed, gripping over the top of the rim as she sipped the straw, looking directly at Cohen with a shy little smile.

“She’s waiting. Go talk to her.”

He shook his head, and looked at his drink, “Came to drown my sorrows, not get laid. You know what family reunions are like for me. Stress and people making a fuss over nothing. Only good thing is taking Will to the arcade, after.”

“Seriously?” Frank said in disbelief, “She’s – Oh shit, she’s coming over. Don’t screw this up, man. I’ll take off.”

The girl put her drink down beside Cohen’s, sliding into the seat next to him, “Your friend is as subtle as a brick through a window. Lol. Cohen, isn’t it? I think I used to know you once. High school, maybe?”

He smiled at her boldness, and he couldn’t deny how attractive she was. “You’ve just disappointed a whole ton of guys, you know?”

“Oh, most of those would run from me, before taking me home.” She smiled disarmingly, “Name’s Hattie. But you look like you’re sad drinking. What’s got a hunk like you down?”

“Run from you?”

She sipped her drink and nodded, “Mmm. Later. So, big guy?”

“Eh. Family stuff.” He shrugged.

Hattie sighed dramatically, “Oh, I hear you on that one. My brother’s almost okay, but the rest. Oof. Mum gave me a huge hour long lecture that I should give up on uni and just marry a rich one, last time I came home. I mean, my grades aren’t great, but art is still my passion.”

“Art?” He said in surprise, “You’re doing an arts degree, for actual art and not just something to do?”

“Pathway.” She shrugged, “I wanna design games. Still art-y. So, hunk, what do you do?”

He leaned back, feeling completely disarmed by her, “Last year at uni. I’m working at a IT call centre. It sucks, but it’s a pathway. Making a little headway. I’m a programmer.”

She grinned at him, one hand coming to rest on his, “We should totally team up. I make the art, you make it work.”

“I’m… Not looking for anything, tonight. Sorry to disappoint.”

She looked around and leaned towards him, “I’ll let you in on a secret. This is the first time I’ve been in a bar since… I had an op.”

She smiled cheekily, and scratched at her neck idly, and Cohen noticed the Adam’s Apple for the first time. His eyes widened and she burst out giggling. “Like I said. Most of those guys would run the hell away from me, if they knew.”

“Wow.” He said and blinked, “I mean… Wow. Thought never crossed my mind. You’re an absolute stunner.”

Hattie blushed and sipped her drink, “Thanks. Really.”

“I mean it.” Cohen restated, “Hell, if I wasn’t just trying to forget about seeing my family tomorrow, I’d still be tempted. Doesn’t matter much to me.”

She flicked her eyes downcast and went even redder, sipping at her drink. “I’m really… That cute? Even if I used to be a guy? I mean… Don’t hate me… But you seem dead straight.”

“Well, sure, but you’re still cute. I would probably have a bit of a problem if it was pre-op. I couldn’t do asses, and I’d hate to give you a blowjob. Couldn’t really give you what you wanted.” Cohen shrugged, “But just ‘cos you used to be, doesn’t matter much to me.”

Hattie bit her lip nervously, “So… If I were to offer you one, and we just take it from there…?”

“Determined and forward.” Cohen said in amusement, “Feels kinda a waste for you. Deserve to be with someone who will love you. Not just give you a fun night.”

She shrugged, “That’s not a no… So… Bathroom?”

Hattie grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the disabled bathroom before he could say anything else. She locked the door with her hands behind her, leaning up on tippy toes towards him.

Cohen shook his head, but grinned and leaned down to her and kissed her.

Her lips felt as soft, warm and moist as any other woman’s. He lost himself to the long-lingering and tender kiss. An arm going around her waist to hold her and draw her in towards him. It wasn’t a french kiss, just long and passionate, van escort as Cohen thanked whoever had decided to bless him by meeting this gorgeous woman.

She curled one leg around his waist, locking her arms around his neck, pulling at him tightly until his rising boner was pressed tightly up against her skirt. Her breathing was short and anxious, as she kissed him.

He vaguely wondered who she had been before. She did feel familiar, so it made sense she knew his name, but he couldn’t place her at all.

His belt popped open and Hattie slid out of his grasp, crouching in front of him as she pulled down pants and underwear at once. She looked at him in surprise, her breath on his hard cock, “Oh wow. Oh I want this inside me… But I promised you a blowjob, first.”

Before he could answer, she expertly took him into her mouth and Cohen groaned loudly. Her tongue flicked under the head, before slathering him and returning to flick again.

He stared in wonder into her blue eyes, as she looked back up at him and began to bob her head up and down his shaft. Her eyes weren’t lustful, they were looking up at him with something deeper, making him feel like this wasn’t a bar tryst, but a girl showing him just how much she loved him.

“Fuck, Hattie.” He groaned.

She pulled off him with a noisy slurp, “Please?”

“Huh?”

She looked up at him, biting her lip, “I… I want you to. Fuck me. Please?”

He pulled her to her feet and whirled her around so she was facing the door. She leaned her hands up against it as he put a hand against her panties and rubbed at her. “Anything I need to know before we try this?”

She grabbed her panties and pulled them down to her knees, shaking her head silently, before pushing a little bit more towards him.

All the same, he remembered what she’d said about this being her first time in a bar, post op. This might well be the first time she’d ever had vaginal sex. A kind of second virginity.

It might not be, or it might not mean anything to her, but Cohen was determined to make it as good as an experience for her as he could, all the same.

His cock touched her fiery snatch gingerly, and he ran the head back and forth so it was coated not just in her saliva, but in something else as well.

She shivered at the touch, bracing herself even more firmly.

Cohen began to slowly ease himself into her. Even if he hadn’t been going slow for her sake, he wouldn’t have been able to go any faster. The sensation of her wrapping around him had him grunting.

“Oh, f-f-fuck!” Hattie moaned weakly and nearly collapsed, “Oh, fuckfuckfuck! Oh, my god.”

He waited until her legs strengthened again before continuing. She continued moaning and swearing the entire time as he slowly made his way inside her ridiculously tight little snatch.

Hattie grunted as he bottomed out, his balls ever so lightly tapping her clit as he did. Cohen took a breather of his own, as she spread her legs a little.

The blonde looked back over her shoulder at him and grinned, “You going to fuck me, now?”

“How do you want it?”

She bit her lip, “I really want it hard. But there’s no way. Slow and gentle does it. Please?”

Cohen had to admit that the way she chewed on her lip every time she thought was freaking adorable. He was also more than happy to admit that her pussy was something else, as he began to gently fuck her into the door.

His hands were beneath the tartan skirt, gripping her tiny little waist as he slid in and out of her. She gripped his cock like a vice, every inch of her resisting as he moved both ways, movement only possible because of their combined fluids.

“Eemmm!” Hattie made a sound halfway between a whine and a moan, “F-ff-fuck! Just like that. Oh, just like that. Fuck me. Fuck me!”

Cohen had to fight with himself not to just plough into her, to take it slow and steady despite how sensitive she was making him feel. No girl had ever felt like this to him.

“God, fuck! It feels good. Oh, it feels good.” Hattie continued, “Oh, sh-shit. Oh, I love it. Fuck me! Oh, yes!”

After a disappointing short amount of time he felt a familiar stirring inside his balls, as he started to swell up inside her. Taking his time with her just served to drive him even crazier.

“Where do you want… It?” Cohen groaned.

Hattie looked back at him bright-eyed and excited, “Fill me up! Ooh… I don’t… Have a… Womb. Fuck! Cum in me!”

He could not argue with that kind of reasoning. And he didn’t want to, either.

Cohen delivered a half dozen more strokes before the final deeper shove into her, that had Hattie collapse into the back of the door, her back pressed up against him and his head by her ear, as he groaned loudly.

Hattie tensed up as she felt him spill into her, her breathing becoming shuddering and her fingernails scratching the door. When his cock finished jerking inside her and he went to lean back a little she reached back and grabbed his wrist for balance.

Cohen escort van steadied her, “Uh… Sorry? You okay?”

“Fucked. God, I feel fucked.” She said with a half-grin. “Holy shit. Um… Yeah. I’m okay. I just didn’t expect… God, that felt right. Whooh. I’m dizzy.”

He held her, with her leaning into his chest with shaking knees, until it passed. She smiled and kissed his chin before staggering and pulling up her panties.

He looked at her cautiously, “So… I guess I should buy you a drink, now. Or we could maybe -“

“Sorry. Drink, sure.” She smiled, “But I’m not going back to your place with you. I mean, that’d sounds like awesome fun. And I do kinda want more of you. But… Unfortunately… Yeah. You’ll find out soon enough. Don’t worry about it.”

Cohen gave a half-laugh, “So confused.”

She shrugged, “So… Can I get a coke?”

—

Cohen had been in a fantastic mood right until he found himself on the doorstep to his parent’s house. He and Hattie had sat at the bar for hours afterwards, talking and laughing with each other, with not a small amount of petting and kissing.

She had been firm on not giving him her number, or arranging another date. Despite more than happily admitting that she wanted to see more of him. That had been completely confusing, but Cohen hadn’t pushed the point.

She clearly had her reasons.

However, a night of fantastic company was still dashed to pieces when his mother opened the door to their house, and the first words out of her mouth were, “Couldn’t you wear something nice?”

It wasn’t that his mum was a horrible person, exactly. She just always happened to say the wrong thing at the wrong time and rub everyone else up the wrong way.

In short, she was kind, but clueless.

Cohen smiled tightly, “Hey mum. How have you been?”

“Same old, same old. Same as your shoes. My goodness, they’re falling apart. Remind me to show you where the shoe store is.”

He kicked off his sneakers and headed inside, “Need me to do anything?”

“No, it’s all sorted. Lunch is in about half an hour. Hopefully your sister is here before then. She’s running late.”

He laughed, “Jess always is…”

Cohen trailed off as he saw Jess curled up on the couch watching the TV. His younger sister waved idly at him, not listening to the conversation but acknowledging his presence.

He looked back at his mum in confusion, “Running late?”

“Oh. She didn’t tell you. Um… Don’t freak out, honey.” His mother said, smoothing down her dress, “But… You can’t use Will’s name anymore, honey.”

Before she could say any more, the doorbell rang.

His mum pasted her sweet face on and opened the door, hugging the figure, “Hey, Harriet. How have you been, sweetie? Not that late, I see.”

“Fine mum, traffic was better than I expected. Um… Is Co…” Hattie trailed off as she stood in the doorway. Staring directly at him.

Cohen’s jaw cracked as he resisted screaming angrily.

He got why she’d seemed so familiar now. Why she knew who he was. She didn’t know him from high school. She knew him because she used to be the little brother he enjoyed hanging out playing pinball and pool with.

Cohen walked over and grabbed her wrist, “We need to talk.”

“Don’t be like that!” His mother snapped, and disengaged the two of them, “Just sit on the couch and act like a normal family. Just because she didn’t tell you is no reason to -“

“Mum. Shut up.” Hattie said, staring at the ground, “Co has… A lot of reason to be angry with me right now.”

Jess looked around from the TV, “We’re being pissed with Harriet? Oh my god! I had no idea. Damn it! You look so much prettier than me. That is so not fair.”

Hattie tucked a strand of hair back subconsciously, “Hey, Jess. Um… I wanna steal some fashion advice later, if that’s okay. But for now… I’m going to go get killed by Cohen. Enjoy the funeral, guys.”

She sheepishly pulled him along and the two of them stepped into the backyard where the two dogs ran up, tails wagging.

Hattie crouched and began patting them excitedly, “Who recognises me? You do! You do!”

“What. The. FUCK!?” Cohen screamed.

She flinched and nearly fell over, “Yep. Deserved that.”

“The fuck!?” He yelled again, “What in God’s name were you thinking!? This is why, isn’t it? This is why you turned me down and… Fuck! I’m your brother!”

She cringed, patting the dogs quietly, “Yep. Didn’t escape my notice.”

“No. Seriously. The fuck is wrong with you, Wi-Hattie?” Cohen snarled, “Did you come to the bar to fucking screw with me? Did you take a joke too far? The utter fuck!”

She looked even smaller, crouching there, hands shaking as she petted the dogs. She swallowed, looking straight down, “No… I didn’t expect to see anyone I knew. I really was just… Trying to enjoy a drink. But you walked in and… I didn’t know how to talk to you.”

“So you fucked me instead.” Cohen snapped.

Hattie clenched her eyes van escort bayan closed, shivering and looking like she was about to burst into tears. “I… Plan was… To tell you. I came over to you, to tell you who I was.”

“Aha. Keep going, you’re still up to your neck in bullshit.”

She shook her head, sniffling, “I know I fucked up, Co! I know. Okay. I’m trying to get there. Just give me a fucking minute!”

He sighed heavily, sitting down and letting one of the dogs run into his lap and flop onto its back for a bellyrub. “I’m not trying to hurt you. Sorry. I’m angry. I don’t think I’ll ever not be angry. But… I’m listening. After all, I’m the brother who is almost okay.”

“Ha.” She said drily, “You remembered that. That’s a good place to start. Um… This… Me… Being a girl? That’s not new for me.”

“Not sure what it has to do with this, but it isn’t a complete shock. It being you is, but you did always stare at the dress stores at the mall.” Cohen shrugged, “You know I have zero problems with it, right? Brother, sister. That’s not my issue.”

“Oh, I know.” Hattie gave a small laugh, “Didn’t even think much before screwing a newly transitioned girl. I know you’re open minded, Co… Sorry. I’m getting back to it. Part of what… Made me realise I wanted to look like a girl, be a girl in the right places… Was I’ve had a crush on a guy for a long time. Like… Forever.”

“Right. Still not seeing the relevance.” He shrugged, “But… Sure. You’re hetero. That doesn’t shock me that much either. I’m sure there’s some jealous girls out there, unless you’re also bi.”

“No way. Girls aren’t for me.” Hattie shook her head, and sighed heavily, “You. Idiot. My crush is you. I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

Cohen took a deep breath, trying to cool his anger at discovering his one night stand used to be his little brother. “So when Frank took off, and I didn’t recognise you…”

“I just… Flirting came naturally.” She winced, “And then you assumed I wanted sex and not just… Anything that I could get… I… I thought it was my only chance. Okay? I know it was stupid. I know. I knew had to see you today and explain it all and…”

He looked at her and shook his head, “Well. I guess we both have a secret we’re never going to tell anyone at all. Ever.”

“You don’t… Hate me?”

“I have no idea, honestly.” He leaned back, “I’m still pretty sure I’m angry enough to make something explode, if I had superpowers. But you’re also still the person in this family that I like the most. And honestly… Last night… I had fun. Not just in the bathroom. You’re still as fun as ever.”

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, “Really? I know I hurt you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It was… Understandable.” Cohen said slowly, “Understandable. Not acceptable, but understandable.”

Hattie smiled through her tears, wiping at her face crossly, “Really? I… I’ll make it up to you.”

“God, no.” Cohen shook his head, “Last thing we need is mum trying to find out what the hell our argument was about. Or Jess.”

“Oooooh. Shit.” Hattie froze up, “I didn’t even think about that. Fuck! They’re going to want to know!”

“It’s fine. I ran into a girl in a bar last night who was fun drinking and playing darts, who I thought kept leading me on.” Cohen said with a half smile, “Turns out, she’s my sister. She just couldn’t get up the courage to tell me.”

She smiled weakly, “Thanks.”

He stood up and brushed the fur off his pants, “So. Lets go see what everyone else is up to. You were planning on stealing a couple dresses from Jess, weren’t you?”

“No. Her fashion sense sucks.” Hattie said, standing up tiredly and stretching, before wincing. “Ow.”

“Ow?”

“I pulled a muscle in my leg last night.” She said in irritation, rubbing the back of her thigh, “Sorry. Won’t mention what happened, again.”

Cohen winced, “Great. Now I feel guilty. That shouldn’t have happened.”

“We didn’t exactly take our time.” Hattie shrugged, “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just get through family stuff, eh? My almost okay big brother.”

“Okay. My little sister who bugs the shit out of me, sometimes.”

She smiled nervously, wanting to laugh, but also not wanting to acknowledge the awkwardness she had now created between the two of them.

“You look good, again, today.” He said as they headed inside, “I liked the skirt last night more, but this looks better on you.”

Hattie grinned, shoving her hands into the pockets at the front of the sundress, “It has pockets! I had no idea how much I was going to miss freaking pockets!”

“Pockets are awesome.” Jess said, kneeling up on the couch, “Give us a twirl, Harriet.”

“Hattie. I like Hattie.” She said, and spun around in the dress, spreading it out. “This is a total spinney dress. I love it. Though… Girl advice?”

Cohen went and crashed into another seat, as Hattie sat beside Jess on the couch, “So, um… Co, close your ears. My breasts are still kinda growing in. At what point do I need… Underwire?”

Jess grinned at her, and looked down at her rack, “Mmm. Not yet. It starts to get essential at about a C. Lots of girls prefer having it all the time, though. Well, until the end of the day when you’re all sweaty.”

This story is heavily inspired by another story I read here, but I wanted to take it a different direction. It is a lesbian story containing themes of incest, power exchange, submission, domination, bathroom control, and age regression.

“Sarah! It’s time for dinner.” I heard from down the hall.

“Coming mom!” I raced down the steps “what’s for-“

“Ouch!” Mom fell to the ground and was staring up at me. I hadn’t even realized I bumped into her. I always thought it was so odd how She was so much smaller than I am. I stand fairly tall for an eighteen-year-old girl, at 5’8. I’m toned, not petite but well developed, nothing like my mother. She’s 37 years old, 4’11 on a good day, and not an ounce of body fat on her. She has one of those body types that just doesn’t put on weight. She couldn’t be more than 90 pounds, meanwhile, I’m almost 150.

“Here, mom. Are you alright?”

“Yup! I didn’t hear you coming down the steps. You must have come quick!”

“I’m ready to eat. Grab me a coke from the fridge and make me a plate, I’m going to sit at the table.”

“Sure Sarah!”

Another thing about my mom, she’s a natural submissive. She just does what she’s told and seems to be happy to follow orders, even if they’re from her own daughter.

Alicia put her head down and immediately went to put together her daughter’s food and drink, then brought them over to the table. Once Sarah began eating she grabbed the same for herself and sat down next to her daughter.

“Thanks, mom. I’m going to be out of town this weekend, the girls and I are going upstate to Kacie’s summer home.”

“What? You didn’t tell me about this sweetie. How are you getting there? Who’s going?”

“I’m telling you now. I’m going with the girls and Kacie is driving”

“Will there be any adults?”

Sarah looked up from her text messages and met her mother’s eyes

“What mom? I’m figuring out plans.”

“Oh..sorry.” Alicia looked down “Will you need money?”

Sarah smirked

“No, I’ve been saving up. You know I’m working a lot.”

Sarah got up and left her plate at the table, kissed her mother on the forehead, and thanked her again.

“Did you hear back about that part-time position at the Walmart down the street mom?”

Alicia’s shoulders slumped and her head dropped

“I didn’t get it. I’ll keep looking, I promise. I just can’t believe I got demoted to assistant manager last week. A girl just a year older than you is my boss now! How is that fair?!”

“I don’t see what’s wrong with it. If she’s your boss tokat escort there’s a reason and you should make yourself useful to her. You might learn why she has your old job. You either need to find a new job with better pay or suck up to your new boss. at this rate, I will have to delay getting my degree because I’m working full time to support us.”

“Yes, Sarah. I know. I’ll keep looking.”

“Good. I’m going to pack my stuff and head to bed. I’ll be leaving in the morning before you wake up. Love you, mom.”

Alicia woke up and headed into the kitchen for her morning coffee after her morning routine and noticed money and a note stuck under a fridge magnet.

“I’ve left for Alicia’s summer house, we should be there by the time you see this. Text me when you do and I’ll let you know. While I’m gone, make sure my laundry is cleaned and I have a nice work outfit for Monday laid out and ironed, I’ll be getting back late. Here’s $200 for groceries. If there’s any leftover you may have it as an allowance.

Alicia blushed at the thought of getting an allowance from her 18-year-old daughter, but she was getting used to it. She has been the main breadwinner for a few months now.

A text comes in Alicia’s phone from her daughter:

“morning mom, I’m sure by now you’ve seen the note. Just wanted to let you know we arrived safely. See you Monday after work.”

“Morning sweetie, I did. Thank you for the money. I appreciate it. I’ll make sure those things are done for you. Love you.”

Alicia immediately went to start on her daughter’s laundry. She always felt inadequate when she did laundry. Sarah’s bras were 3 full cup sizes bigger, and her panties were also bigger and sexier despite having a waist almost as thin as her own. She admired a pair of pink panties laced with black before putting them in the hamper. Alicia bent down to look under the bed and found other random pieces of laundry, but when she stood up she lost her balance and instinctively reached for the nearest wall, pulling down a pendant given to her by her late father.

“Oh shit.” Alicia looked down and the pendant’s main stone has fallen out and the clip has been almost completely destroyed.

Alicia sat on the floor of her daughter’s room stunned as tears rolled down her face. “She’s gonna be mad. I’m such a klutz. That thing is so important to her.”

Alicia got up and cleaned up the pendant, making sure to preserve each piece in case it could be repaired. She finished her tasks and went to contact jewelers tokat escort bayan near her.

————

Alicia woke up early on Monday to greet her daughter. When Sarah walked through the door, her mother was already waiting in the kitchen with coffee for her daughter. “Morning mom, why are you awake so early?”

“I wanted to greet you when you came home, and I have something to tell you, sweetie. When I was doing what you told me to do in your note, I slipped into your room and pulled down your father’s pendant. It broke. I’m so sorry. I already dropped it off at the jeweler’s.”

Sarah stood there motionless. She stepped up towards her mother and began to lose her temper. “I work full time to take care of you, my MOTHER, who’s not even 40 yet!” Sarah yelled. “What makes you think we can afford to get that fixed at the jeweler? Don’t you know how close to the line we are?”

Alicia just stood there looking at the floor as she took her scolding.

“That pendant was ALL I had of my dad’s. I know you know that.” Sarah walked right up to her mother and towered over her. Alicia seemed to shrink into herself even further. Sarah grabbed her mother’s chin and look her in the eyes. “Why is it that most of the time I feel like you’re MY child? I can’t believe that you-“

Sarah paused and Alicia’s eyes widened in humiliation and shock.”

“Mom are you.. are you peeing? What the fuck! I can’t deal with this right now. I have an important presentation in an hour. Did you at least lay out my outfit as I told you?

Alicia gave a weak nod as tears rolled down her face.

“Good. At least you can do one thing right.”

Alicia wanted to disappear. She began to do just that and move into her room to change, but before she could Sarah stopped her.”

“Where do you think you’re going? You need to go to the jeweler right now and get that pendant back. Unless you’re going to pay for it yourself on your $7.80 an hour. No? Then get your butt in the car.”

“The jeweler doesn’t open for another hour, sweetie.”

“Then you’ll be the first one inside. Go.”

Alicia walked past her daughter in soaking wet panties from her earlier humiliation. Thankfully she was wearing a skirt so there’s nothing visible to the outside. She sat in her car contemplating what just happened.

———-

Sarah walked in the Door carrying two grocery bags and a big smile.

“H-how was your day sweetie?” Alicia asked her daughter, afraid to look her in the eyes.

“Incredible, despite escort tokat your efforts to the contrary”

Those words stung

“I’m sorry again sweetie. I really didn’t-“

“Enough mom, I don’t want to hear it. Sit down on the couch and I’ll tell you about my day.”

Her mother complied.

“My presentation went perfectly. My manager offered me a full-time in-house marketing consultant position, meaning I guess I am delaying my degree. Or, I’ll be a part-time student. Either way, my salary is going to start at $78.5k. I will be fully capable of taking care of us both. I’ve already taken the liberty of transferring all important bills and finances into my name, so I don’t need to just keep sending you money to pay them.”

Alicia stood shocked. She didn’t know what to say.

“How about a thank you? Congratulations? Something?”

“You’re right sweetie, that’s incredible. Congratulations. I do appreciate your help with finances but you don’t need to worry about taking care of us. I’m going to find something else, and I’m still working now.”

“No you’re not, I called and quit for you earlier today when I got the offer.”

“What?? Why would you do that?!”

“Because why do you need to work? So you can bring in an extra $150 a week? No. You’re going to go back to school and get yourself the degree you never bothered to because dad was going to take care of you. We’ll compare some online programs later.”

“I’m not going back to school Sarah. I’m still your mother, and you will not treat me as a child.”

Sarah raised her eyebrow and Alicia crumbled almost instantly. She had the same look as her father always had, and it always broke her will to resist.

“Mom, I’ve been taking care of you for months now. You defer to me on all decisions already, you listen to what I tell you, and I’m already more in tune with our finances than you are. You were always a housewife and dad took care of everything. It’s clear I take after him in that respect. The sooner you accept your role here the easier it will be.”

Alicia just said nothing and looked down at the floor.

“Yes, Sarah. You’re right. Thank you for allowing me to get my degree.” Sarah nodded. “So is anything in my name anymore? Do my debit cards work? What about my car, is that in my name?

“I Aggregated your bank account into mine, there was only $87 in there anyway. I closed out your account. I did however set up a greenlight card for you. It has. Spending limit of $100 per month, with the ability to earn more if you do what’s asked of you. Your car payment is in my name now, as is the registration”

“Okay” was all her mother could muster.

“One last thing, we’re moving. The position I accepted is at the corporate office in Pennsylvania. You better head to bed so we can pack in the morning.”

“Okay, Sarah.”

The butterflies were going crazy in my stomach. I sat quietly, resisting the urge to fidget with the lacy white tie front slip I’d carefully selected for the occasion, ready to fall open with just one little pull at the cute bowstring; held taut between my full breasts, themselves obscured by the opaque fabric at the chest of the otherwise semi transparent garment while my generous nipples extruded prominently at the peak of each cotton orb. The spaghetti straps tugged lightly on my shoulders as my thick, straight chestnut hair snaked and danced about them with every little movement of my head. Everything was neatly set up around me; soft music playing, candles all around the room flickering gently and faint notes of incense completing the warm, entrancing ambience.

I sat against the foot of the bed in a pose I’d practised dozens of times, had decided on against a host of other options. My arms out from my sides and behind me a little, holding me up as I leaned back against them; my behind perched on the edge of the bed with my legs slightly apart, hanging loosely to where my toes traced little circles on the floor, adorned in the thinnest white hold ups, each capped with a few inches of white floral patterned lace, finally ending to leave just a couple more inches of flesh exposed at the tops of my thighs; and between them my pussy, in quiet anticipation, hidden beneath the white triangle of a set of tie side bikini thong panties. I felt the rear triangle outlined delicately against the inner curve of my cheeks, the shift of the slip against my stomach and sides as I breathed deeply in, and out. I moved my lips back and forth against one another, feeling the gloss I’d recently applied before finishing with a few puffs of perfume, the final touches after long preparation.

The clothing, I’d had that picked out for a while. I’d turned my choices over several times, but once I’d settled I knew I was happy. Simplicity was the thing. All white, it had to be all white I felt. The aim wasn’t an act of seduction but of proffer. I was presenting myself to another human being as a piece of property. I’m not sure specifically why that should mean white but I was certain it conveyed the right message. Indeed, the purpose of wearing anything at all was effectively gift wrap, a mixture of the simple pageantry of the removal of that layer, and yet combined with… something more. The symbolism of accepting the gift, of becoming the owner of that which was unwrapped. Of formally accepting possession of and responsibility for it. For me. A particular moment I’d conceived, at least in some general form, a very long time ago.

The room had also been artfully prepared, along the same lines that called for feminine surroundings that emphasised me, the gift, as the centrepiece; to form the backdrop for an act of utter submission. Everything presented in soft shades that suggest themselves as easily overpowered and overwritten according to the dominant desire of their new master. Nothing loud or bold, even the bedsheets with their recessive floral pastels that I would, in my white lingerie, almost sink into. Emphasising that along with the house that was changing ownership, and along with it all of its contents, that no more or less than everything around me, I was part of those contents.

“The house is your property now,” I murmured to myself, words I’d practised over and over. “The house is your property now and so is everything in it.”

The house, a beautiful three bedroom detached period style property in a quiet, friendly neighbourhood on the edge of town. Friendly but anonymous, the neighbours gave each other a smile and a wave but save for necessity that was the limit of social interaction and that was perfect. Somewhere to be with my son, somewhere to raise him in peace and be free to focus solely on that purpose, my only purpose. Everything was done to that end, the selection of the house, keeping myself well groomed and in peak physical shape. Furthering my career as a freelance designer, investing in the future, in his future, both financially and in terms of education, health and overall development. Nurturing my prince.

I thought back to those early days, him swinging in the back garden, sitting nicely at the table asking may he please have another sandwich or lying in my arms on the sofa watching cartoons. Taking him to his swimming classes, martial arts, sports, clubs, every activity he participated in. Or watching him sulk because he wasn’t allowed some video game he wanted or some clothing fad that was all the rage for five minutes. Crying with him as I soothed him when he was so sick with the flu. Even then, when I was his nanny, his maid, his nurse and even sometimes his scourge when he couldn’t have his way, I knew that in my heart and soul I was his and that I always would be, even if I didn’t realise then what implications that would ultimately lead to.

“Including me.”

When I spoke those final yalova escort words to him I would push off from the edge of the bed to stand up before him. He’d be a couple of steps in front of me as directed. I’d take his hands and draw them in towards my chest. I’d show him where to take the two bow ends in the finger and thumb of each hand before dropping my arms to my sides and nodding my assent. Just the slightest tug would bring the bow apart. The knot that had just barely kept my breasts from his eyes would relent its hold. Turning my arms outwards slightly and dipping my shoulders would result in the straps, already resting precariously on the outer slope of each shoulder by design, would lose their grip and the material covering my breasts would part and glide away to each side. The straps would slip unobstructed down and off my arms, and the garment would at last fall and land helplessly in a puddle on the ground.

Without hesitation I’d take his hands again and this time lead them to my hips, where the bow on each side awaited his reiterated confirmation that this gift was accepted, that this item of property – me – would now formally be possessed by him. I’d taken care to ensure that a single tug on each bow would be sufficient, that no unexpected hitch would interrupt this moment of finality. I’d put a bow end in the finger and thumb of each of his hands and hold each in place with my own finger and thumb, demonstrating that this was mutual. Consensual. Confirmation of the full participation of us both. I wouldn’t initiate the movement though – that was his prerogative. It would be the first action he would take as my owner. My King. Master of this house, master of my life. Thereafter all the actions would be his to determine. This would be the last one that required my participation, or even my assent.

He was in fact already master of my life and he always had been. Now he would be taking the position formally, effectively, that he had always held in principle. Until now I had been required to be the decision maker, have the final say in his affairs as well as in everything to do with the house and other concerns. Now this would change. I’d still be there to provide advice, support, guidance even. Whatever was required of me. I’d still continue to manage finances to whatever degree he instructed, look after the house and everything else I’d been doing up to this point until directed otherwise by him. The preparations had been made to sign the house over to his name. Accounts for savings, investments and so on were poised to be transferred to him. The bills would be in his name, even my car would be registered as his.

It would take time for him to make all the decisions needed as to how life would be administrated, including with regard to me: whether I would keep my job for example, whether I would keep a bank account or credit card. Whether I would be allowed to go out at all, in fact. Until he decided I would maintain the status quo. I’d already put together various materials and worked through them with him so he had a full understanding of the detail of our assets and would be ready to form strategies and make choices over practical concerns. Soon this would expand to making decisions in respect of my status and comportment.

My heart fluttered at the prospect of this new way of life. I focussed ahead at the full door mirrors of the built in wardrobe that stretched across the whole wall opposite the end of the bed and surveyed the room around me. I lifted my left hand and coyly traced a finger through a lock of my hair, pulling a few more strands forward over my shoulder. The hours spent at the salon this afternoon had been wonderfully therapeutic after a busy day first preparing the room and then going for a vigorous workout followed by a relaxing soak in the bath. They had done a wonderful job styling my hair into feathered layers, giving the ideal mix of volume and bounce. Yesterday had been spent in preparation too, getting waxed in the morning so that not a scrap of body hair remained save for my finely plucked eyebrows, while the afternoon at the spa included skin treatments that had my skin glowing from head to toe. And today all that remained after arriving home from the salon then was my make up, I had applied subtle hints of shadow over a light foundation and soft blush and, of course, the matte lip gloss in understated red completing the look.

So much planning, so much preparation, and it all came down to this. Soon he’d be home. He’d walk through the front door in the suit he’d picked out last week. I pictured him as he was when I saw him come out of the fitting room, the pure… excitement at seeing him look so manly and grown up. With his eighteenth birthday approaching he seemed to have grown into a kind of definition, and this outfit felt as if it were made specifically for him. The blazer single breasted, a medium dark grey with charcoal texture, three yalova escort bayan buttons and four on each cuff. A pale blue shirt contrasting a navy blue tie. So handsome, a mother’s dream. The thought of him walking in like this today brought a sense of immediacy that sent a rush coursing through me starting at my neck and cheeks, then quickly through my stomach and ending with a gasping quiver between my legs. I thought back to the self control I had exercised at the store, when I had given him a loving smile, looked into his eyes as he looked back into mine, his smile telling me that he liked this one and mine telling him the same.

He was aware now that something was happening. Something. This wouldn’t have worked if it had come at him cold. He was far too considerate and self aware to make that adjustment just in one go. Too shy? No, with others perhaps, not with me. He had total confidence with his mother. He’d had friends at school growing up, been to their houses and had them visit here, but always to a limit. There wasn’t anyone from his school that lived in our area anyway, the school was in another town and that had been intentional on my part. I had no desire to build ties of that particular sort; I wanted to be with my son and I wanted him to be with me. All the time. Sharing him as little as possible.

At least insofar as it didn’t interfere with his development. Organised groups and classes, all through his childhood years he could indulge in as much as he liked and I’d drop him here or there for whatever activity and pick him up again afterward. Often waiting nearby in my car. Not wanting to be further from him than was necessary. If possible, such as when he was playing sports, I’d park where I could see him, watch him. Admire him. Need him. Being away from him was simply not to my taste; I accepted it where I had to for his own sake but as a matter of course I manoeuvred everything to arrange for us to be together.

From a young age we cooked together, we worked on household chores together, we shopped together. I’m not pretending he was always happy about everything all of the time. But just as I didn’t just indulge him in whatever he wanted every time, still I did indulge him in healthy things he wanted to do and worked hard to ensure he came to accept contrary decisions with good grace. Sometimes he could be difficult, even defiant when he wasn’t allowed his way, especially when he was younger; but as he grew he assumed many of the kind of traits I’d hoped for him. My son is kind, generous, thoughtful, polite and insightful, as well as strong and assertive, and I’m delighted to add that when he sees fit he can be forceful and dominant, without overshadowing those other qualities. I’ve never found him to be arrogant, other than with me at least, and then it’s a part of our dynamic and I love it, it makes me feel submissive to him. And I’m not suggesting he never gets anything wrong – but when he does he’s gracious in recognising it and dealing with the situation for the best. Yes, I could gush all day long about him but then, what mother wouldn’t, right?

As he reached his teen years, I found he began to spend more time than usual in his bedroom and although I understood that this was natural and even important, I had no intention of encouraging it. Once he took his place as my owner, well then if he should desire distance then it’s my duty and obligation to obey in whatever fashion he specifies. For my young prince though, in those times, it was my responsibility to ensure that the special closeness we’d nurtured wasn’t lost. In truth it wasn’t so much that it was a huge change, enough that I noticed it however. He’d always clamoured to be around me just as I’d taught him to be, so I did feel a difference and couldn’t help but want to do something.

On the one hand I’d always worked hard on my figure and had always dressed for my son in a way that was, if not provocative then certainly attractive. Anyway, who doesn’t like being around someone attractive? I enjoyed dressing up, clothing, hair, cosmetics and all, with the aim of looking good for the benefit of my prince, just as everything I did was for his benefit. I wanted him, and his little school friends, and their parents and his teachers and everyone in his life to see me as attractive, knowing that this should reflect well on him. And indeed if that then inspired protectiveness or even feelings jealousy in him, well those are healthy and positive things for him to feel about his mother.

At this time though I recognised that I was slowly beginning to shift my wardrobe further towards being more explicit. Slutty even, some might say, which wasn’t my thought or aim but then I definitely wouldn’t rule anything out in my outfits if I thought it would be for the ultimate good of my son. Revealing tops with miniskirts became my preferred everyday mode of dress, and I have no doubt that my son ultimately escort yalova benefitted from every inch of flesh I displayed, every curve I showed off through tight fitting, stretchy fabrics.

In the evenings, after the sun had gone down and the curtains were drawn, I exclusively wore lingerie around the house. Babydolls were a common choice, often over basques, suspender belts and stockings and thongs. I experimented with different hairstyles and started to wear my hair in pigtails or bunches with my raciest outfits. I reasoned that as in every area of my demeanour, it was best to set a healthy example to my son of how a woman in his life should be expected to conduct themselves.

My efforts couldn’t but have a positive effect. Possibly they had been a slight overreaction on my part; I had responded to really a very small change in my son’s behaviour emotionally and disproportionately. Reflecting on this didn’t mean that I then reined in those changes though, just I realised that I shouldn’t rely on only one dimension. So on the other hand I looked for different ways to engage, looking for new interests we could share that would help us to engage more on an adult footing.

We both loved to read and I suggested that we start reading the same book and discussing them, which I found to be very intimate. At first we’d have a copy each and read separately. Then there was one book we both really wanted to read and only had one copy, so at first we read it a chapter at a time. It was slower going than we were used to and one evening we decided sit together on the single seater and read the same chapter together. Finding that we enjoyed this, it became a regular thing. First with one or the other of us holding the book, then occasionally both of us holding hands as we held it together. That was just bliss.

We started to develop little signals that we were ready for a page turn, at first maybe just a little nod of the head, then it got to be a tap or scratch of the finger on each others’ hand or arm. Then it turned into a light stroke wherever our hand happened to be. When I felt his finger start to trace up and down the outside of my thigh I’d know he was ready. Then after a while it evolved into a little nudge with the nose on the shoulder or even the cheek. Then the nudge was followed by a little kiss. Sometimes it felt like a game to see who could finish first and get to give a little nuzzle to the other’s cheek, neck or ear, but we always kept focus on the topic of the pages as we read them, happy in each other. Our reading sessions would sometimes go on for hours and he was always enthusiastic for more. We never got separate books again after that, and while there were lots of other things that we did together, reading with my son was one of my favourite things, I felt like I belonged curled up there with him and I’m sure he felt the same.

I’d set things up precisely with him: once he finished his studies for the day he’d be off for a haircut and then a workout at the gym, after which he could shower there and freshen up. Then he would stop by the tailors to pick up his suit, now adjusted to fit, and the belt and shoes to go with it – brown, to pick out his luscious, thick hair – and would head home for about 7pm. I’d promised him his birthday present but insisted that he would have to closely follow the steps I set out. He’d park in the garage at the side of the house as usual, and enter through the side door into the kitchen.

Once inside I’d told him to look for an envelope with his name on it on the kitchen island; he was to take it into the living room and sit in the single seater in which we read our books together – there would be a drink there for him, a fine Scottish single malt whisky, I’d been preparing his taste buds over the last few months with some fine whisky selections – not a connoisseur myself, I researched enough to ensure he had had exposure to it. It’s one of those things a man benefits from having some experience of. He was then to relax and read through the contents of the envelope. The letter would conclude with instructions on how to proceed. He’d know then with what choices he was faced, and I was confident that he was armed with the capacity to make a good decision.

“You’re eighteen years old today,” I whispered, for what seemed like the hundredth time. Maybe it actually was the hundredth time. I’d committed the whole thing to memory and it was like reciting a speech or a scene from a play.

“You’re the man of the house. You’ve always been the man of the house, but now that position is formally yours to take.”

Yours to take. Something special about those words. Everything I was describing was his to take. To be given to him, presented to him, gifted, yes. But most importantly, to be taken by him.

“Everything is yours: title, possession, deed, money, assets. Everything. Without exception. All of it is your property. Including the house.”

I loved these words. I loved saying them, I had repeated them over and over in anticipation of this day, when I would finally say them to my son.

“The house is your property now.” My feet tingled. My eyelashes fluttered at me in the mirror.

“The house is your property now and so is everything in it.”

***This story is a work of fiction. All characters are at least 18 years old. This is a short story about tricking my gullible Mom into giving me a blowjob using a viral video.

My mom was not too tech savvy, and basically just used her phone and computer for social media. She was a ditzy blonde, and completely obsessed with getting attention for social media. She constantly posted photos of herself in workout clothes, and bikinis, #hotmom. Granted, she looked great for her age, but it was taking over her life.

I decided to use her vanity to my advantage. I made copies of her social media accounts, so when she logged in, she was on my fake version of her accounts. Front and center on her accounts I put a fake news video about the “#Doitforyourson Challenge.” The video was about the “latest craze” where Moms try to keep their sons’ hard cocks in their mouth for as long as possible, but if their son cums, they lose, and the son gets to ask their mother for whatever they want.

I watched my Mom on her IPad on the couch, watching the video-“the Doitforyourson Challenge?” She said, confused. “Oh wow, do moms actually do that?” She said to herself.

“Hey Mom, whatcha looking at?” I asked, nonchalantly, standing with her face next to my crotch.

“Oh um, nothing honey.” She said nervously, while turning the iPad over quickly, trying not to stare at my crotch.

“Okay, cool…well, I’ll just be in my room if you need me for anything.” I said with a smirk.

“Oh, okay, sweetheart…” She said awkwardly.

I watched her screen and her camera from my laptop in my room. I made the video look like it had millions of retweets/likes/shares. Then, on her recent posts, all of the highest rated comments were egging her on to #Doitforyourson. “Wow, you worked out, tunceli escort but did you do the #Doitforyourson Challenge? #notimpressed.” “Real moms do the #Doitforyourson Challenge.”

I also posted several fake pictures of her friends with cum all over their faces: “Wow, guess I lost the #Doitforyourson Challenge, hehe. But, now I have over 1,000,000 followers! #momwon.”

“What?! 1,000,000 followers!? No way!” My mom exclaimed.

I sent several gifs to her from her friends, of close ups of milfs gargling cum and swallowing, with the caption: “Hey sexy! I challenge you to do the #Doitforyourson Challenge!!!”

My Mom sat there for a minute, confused, and then she shrugged her shoulders and got up. I heard a knock at my door a few seconds later. I was jacking off watching my Mom on her camera, but I pretended like I was just on Instagram. “Hey Mom, doesn’t Mrs. Jennings look so hot? She just did the Doitforyourson Challenge and everybody is going crazy over it.” I said, showing her my laptop.

“Ugh, I Iook better than her… So…this is going viral?” She asked.

“Oh yeah, she’s got like 200k likes just in the past few hours!” I said.

“Hmmm, well um….maybe we should do that um…Challenge.” She said, nervously.

“Yeah, I mean…it would get you a ton of followers.” I said, sitting up from my bed.

“So, why don’t you get down on your knees, Mom and we can try it.” I said, guiding her down to her knees.

“Oh um, right now?” She said, reluctantly.

“Yeah, I mean, you know these challenge things aren’t popular for long.” I said.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. So, what do we do?” She asked.”

“So, first I take out my penis.” I pulled my shorts down, revealing my hard, thick cock.

“Oh tunceli escort bayan wow! Honey, um, I didn’t know you had such a, um…wow!” She said, surprised.

“So, you saw the video, the basic idea is, we make a video where I put my cock in your mouth…” I shoved my dick into my Mom’s mouth before she could respond or overthink it. She wrapped her bright pink, glossy lips around my cock. “And now, your goal is keep my cock in your mouth for as long as possible, but if I cum, then you lose.” I said, as I started thrusting into my Mom’s mouth.

“Uhhhfffeffff” She tried to speak while I filled her mouth with cock.

“So, there have been a lot of these videos lately. And in order to stand out, you have to do something really unique. Any ideas?” I asked as I continued using my Mom’s mouth.

“Hmmmmmfffff” She said, and looked up like she was thinking.

After a moment, she raised her eyebrows. “Mmfmm!” She said excitedly. She pulled her sports bra up over her huge tits. “Thda thdahh!” She said proudly.

“Hmmm, very nice tits, Mom! But that has been done before, Mrs. Steven’s just did that last night, and Mrs. Connely.” I said as I pinched her nipples.

“Mmffffffff!” She moaned as I played with her nipples.

“Hmm, any other ideas, Mom? It’s gotta be really sexy to get those likes…” I said.

“Mmmmmmmm.” She thought hard, and then raised her finger like she had an idea. She took off her leggings and pink thong.

“Nice, but that has definitely been done a lot. I mean…probably half the moms that post are totally naked.” I said.

“Hmmff.” She said, discouraged, but then her eyebrows raised quickly. She started playing with her clit.

“Unnnnnff *gluck gluck gluck* unnnnnnfff!” My mom moaned escort tunceli on my cock as she sucked.

“Alright, Mom. That is pretty hot, but are you able to deepthroat? I think that would really put you over the top.” I asked.

“Unnnnffff.” She moaned, and I took that as a yes and immediately shoved my cock down her throat. She was surprised, but not trying to stop me.

“Wow, that’s great, Mom! I’m almost there, I’m gonna cum in your mouth. Don’t swallow, just keep it all in your mouth. Oh fuck!” I came harder than I ever had into her mouth.

As I came, my Mom started cumming as well. “OOHHHGDDDDDLLll!!!!” She moaned hard as I filled up her mouth completely.

“Ok, now the rules say if your son cums in your mouth, you have to gargle it and swallow every drop.” I said.

“Glglglglglglglgllglglglg…*gulp*” She obediently gargled my cum and swallowed it all with no hesitation.

“Missed some here, Mom.” I said as I rubbed my cock on the jizz coating her face. She lovingly sucked the cum off the head of my cock, and then used her long fake fingernails to scoop up the rest of the cum into her mouth.

“Yummy!” She said giggling. “Thanks for watching, everybody! Please like and follow me to see more hot videos!” She said, smiling.

“That was great, Mom! I bet you will get a ton of new followers!” I said.

“Thanks, Sweetheart! That was fun!” She said, with a big smile.

“Now remember, since you lost the challenge, I get to ask you for whatever I want…” I said, teasingly.

“Alright, alright, haha. Well, go easy on your Mom.” She winked.

I was certainly going to enjoy my request, but I had long-term plans as well. After, she “posted” the video, I gave her tons of new fake followers complimenting her, and calling her “#sexycumslutmom.”

My Mom was eagerly searching for more things to post, so I set up a few other “challenges” to keep her busy. We are certainly going have fun during the “August Cumslut Mom Diet,” where “moms around the country are taking an unconventional new daily weightloss supplement: their sons’ semen!”