Kathy Andrews
Make room for mother

CHAPTER ONE

Laura opened her legs a little more.

The sun coming in through the window was hot on her thighs, on the tight crotch of her bikini panties. The heat was nice; it made her cunt feel very good.

She lay sprawled across her couch, one arm resting lightly on her stomach, the other above her head. Her eyes were closed, and she felt drowsy. The fantasies kept whirling through her mind, becoming more and more erotic, more impossible. It amused her to imagine such crazy things, such painful and absolutely impossible positions her body could be twisted into, all of them lewd, very lewd.

Laura was a lewd person.

Laura was a wanton person.

Laura wanted to fuck.

Laura did fuck, but it was all in her mind. In her mind, using her wicked imagination, everything imaginable was done to her, to her body, and she did everything to her dream partners. In her fantasies, she could hold and stroke and caress a big cock, toy with hot, full balls. She could lick at them, kiss them, taste them. In her mind, she could do anything she wanted to do. No body knew about it but her. And it was so much fun.

The moist heat of her cunt excited her. She loved it when her clit knotted and swelled and pulsated so deliciously. Sometimes she could come in her fantasies, and then come for real.

She liked her fantasies because in them she could do anything she wanted to do, anything at all. She could be depraved, get wild, used and abused and use and abuse. But Laura didn't like those words, used and abused. In her way of thinking, she couldn't be used or abused by a person with a lovely, long, thick, very hard cock. She could only enjoy, enjoy to the fullest.

She didn't understand women that felt abused when a man fucked them. She didn't understand how a woman could feel abused if the man with that hard cock shoved it down her throat, or even into her ass. She didn't find anything abusive about a hard cock penetrating her body, no matter where it penetrated.

To her, that was ecstasy, not abuse.

But Laura was a wanton in her mind only. She had very little experience to go by. She had never been fucked in all those wet, hot places she imagined getting fucked in. Only her cunt, only her pussy, her twat.

Twat… such a silly word, she thought, but exciting to whisper or think about.

She wondered where such words came from, especially cunt. She couldn't associate the word cunt with her pussy. Pussy sounded pretty good to her. It reminded her of a kitten, a soft, furry kitten. Her cunt was soft, and it was furry, just like a kitten. Pussy was a very good word for it, but not as exciting as the word cunt.

And cock… another stupid word. Cock made her think of a farm, with a strutting rooster in a hen house. Maybe that was it, a cock, a strutting cock, lifted upward, hard, proud. Prick made a little sense to her. Prick her cunt like pricking her flesh with a needle. Still, it wasn't as exciting as cock. Cock and cunt, two very exciting words to her.

Fuck was another word she loved. If it was said in her hearing, there was an immediate response between her thighs. She didn't know why, but if she heard the word fuck, she became wet there, and would tingle nicely.

Asshole she could understand. There was a bole there, right between the cheeks of her ass, so asshole made sense.

But blow-job?

Why was it called a blow-job when no one really blew? Cock-sucking was much more descriptive. After all, a girl sucked the cock, not blew on it.

Tits… breasts… tits.

Her hand moved up her stomach until she palmed one of her own tits. Her tit was firm, rounded, with a pink nipple that hardened just from the things that went on inside her mind. She fondled her tit through the thin, summer sweater, feeling her nipple pulsate against her hand. She liked to feel her tits, just as she liked to stroke and gently caress her pussy.

As the hot sun increased the sweet heat on the crotch of her panties, she dropped one foot over the edge of the couch and to the floor. The other leg she bent at the knee, letting it rest on the back of the couch. The sun was full on her pussy now, and that felt even better. She lifted her sweater beneath her tits and slipped her hand beneath it, cupping her tit that way.

Laura felt very wicked, playing with herself like this, especially in the living room. She loved to feel wicked.

Laura had grown up in a home filled with no-no's. Her parents had been extremely restrictive, refusing to let her date even in high school. Sex was never mentioned, not under any circumstances. It was nasty, something best never thought about.

She had been caught doing those nasty things to her body, and had been whipped cruelly by her father. How could anything that felt so good be nasty? Ice cream tasted good, but no one called it nasty. Her cunt felt good, but it was nasty. It was all very confusing to her, then. It still was, to some degree.

Then she married after high school, and her body was ready for it.

Her mind was ready for it.

And she didn't get it.

Her husband wasn't interested in her delicious, succulent body. He thought fucking her once a month was enough. But Laura's body, her cunt, cried out for hard cock, demanding to be fucked.

Her husband, like her father before, thought she was nasty. He didn't say nasty, but said she was a nymphomaniac. Laura didn't know what a nymphomaniac was, and looked it up. That puzzled her even more. Her desires didn't fit the criteria of nymphomania. Laura had orgasms, and everything she read about that strange word indicated there was no orgasm involved, but a desperate search for it. Her husband also said she was sex crazy, that she had nothing but sex on her mind.

That much was true; she definitely had sex on her mind, all the time, day and night. But it wasn't nasty. It couldn't be nasty – it felt much too good to be nasty.

Now Laura didn't have a husband.

He became tired of living with a woman that made such perverted demands as wanting to be fucked. He left her, with her son, the house, a car, and a comfortable bank account. She didn't know where he was and couldn't care less. He had been no good to her when married to him, and certainly no good now.

Her freedom had given her the excuse to experience those wild things in her mind, but Laura couldn't bring herself to do so. She was shy, very naive, almost afraid of men. They strutted around and fucked everything, she had observed, but if a woman did the same thing, the man quickly discarded her as a slut, a whore, a nasty person.

She giggled.

Her parents had been shocked when her little brother had suddenly arrived about nineteen years ago. They had been finished with having and raising a child. Laura was the only one they planned to have, and then there was Jason, abruptly. Laura giggled as she thought of her restrictive mother and father fucking. She had never been sure they fucked at all, but she and her young brother were evidence that they had fucked at least two times in their miserable lives.

Jason, her brother, was only a year older than her own son, Sammy.

And since her parents lived within walking distance from her house, the two boys had been very good friends from the beginning.

Maybe her parents didn't pay as much attention to Jason as they had her, because Jason had so much more freedom then she had enjoyed. Jason was a nasty boy, too. Laura had heard him using those exciting words with her son. She had said nothing to her brother about it, nor to Sammy. If those words excited her, then they must excite the boys, she felt. She was not going to be like her mother and father. She allowed Sammy to enjoy himself, and if that meant he played with his cock, good for him!

She ran her other hand down her stomach, and lightly rested her palm on her panties. She could feel the soft hair under the satiny panties. She could use her fingers, she thought lazily. She could put her hand inside her panties and touch herself, caress her pussy, her cunt. It always felt good when she did that. She could put a finger inside and feel how smooth and slippery and hot it was, and maybe she could work it back and forth a little, pretend it was a cock, and give herself a nice orgasm.

She was starting to slip her fingers inside the elastic waist of her panties when the door opened, and Sammy came into the house. He was not alone, but her brother, Jason, was with him.

Laura's eyes had been closed, and she kept them closed. Her son and brother had almost caught her playing with her cunt. She felt a flush creep over her unblemished flesh. There was nothing she could do now; her fingers were halfway inside her panties, her skirt drawn past them. She could feel the soft curls of her pussyhair on the tips of her fingers. She didn't feel embarrassed about being caught, but she did feel very shy, bashful.

She didn't want her son and brother to see that she was awake, doing this to her. She pretended to be sleeping, knowing they were looking at her.

Slitting her eyes, she peeked.

Sammy's young eyes were huge, shining brightly, standing next to Jason who was grinning from ear to ear as he, too, looked at her exposure.

"Nice, huh?" she heard her brother whisper. "That's very nice, I'd say."

"Yeah!" She heard her son gulp. "Mom sure is pretty."

"Beautiful, I'd say," her brother said. "Look at her hand. It's in her panties. I bet she was playing with her cunt."

"Aw, Mom wouldn't play with her pussy!"

"She wouldn't?" Jason snorted.

"You play with your cock, don't you? What makes you think a girl don't play with her cunt?"

"Girls are different," she heard Sammy say, his voice very low.

"Sure they're different, Sammy," Jason said. "They've got cunts, not cocks. Look, she's holding her tit, top."

Laura tried not to look down at their crotches, but her eyes moved down anyway. She almost gasped out loud. Both her son and brother had a hard-on! She could see those cocks pushing against their jeans. She swallowed with excitement, trying to be very quiet. She felt a ripple move over her flesh and was afraid she was going to come. If she came, there was no way she could prevent the tremors from being noticed by them.

"She gives me a hard-on," Jason said, rubbing at his cock.

"Me, too!" Sammy grunted.

"I bet she'll fuck," Jason whispered.

"Not my Mom," Sammy said. "Moms don't fuck."

"You're kinda stupid; you know that, Sammy?"

"Come on, Jason," Sammy said. "Maybe some of the girls at school fuck. I've heard stories about some of them, but my Mom wouldn't do anything like that."

"She's a girl, ain't she?" Jason said. "All girls fuck. You work them just right, any girl will fuck."

"How do you know that?" Sammy said, his eyes burning on his mother's pantied crotch. "You ain't never fucked one."

"I know," Jason said, and let it go at that. "I sure wouldn't mind fucking my sister, that's for sure."

"You can't fuck my mom!" Sammy said.

"I would if she let me." Jason moaned and pressed hard at his cock. "So would you. A guy gets a hard-on, and the girl is willing, man, you're gonna fuck her, even if it is your mom."

"I've got a hard-on, that's for sure," Laura heard her son say.

"Me, too," Jason groaned, "and if I don't do something about it, I'm gonna come off in my fucking pants."

Laura felt disappointed as they left her on the couch.

She had enjoyed them looking at her this way. Her body vibrated with a strange, but ever so delicious, feeling. Her cunt felt very wet, wetter than ever in her young life. She felt her nipple burning into her palm, and her clit seemed ready to burst, it was so hard and swollen.

She felt wicked, very wicked.

And so did her son and brother, if the size of their cocks was any indication. She felt pleased that it was her body that gave her son and brother such big hard-ons.

Alone again, she lifted her head and looked down at her body. She saw her long, silky thighs fully exposed, her panties, with her fingers just inside the waistband. That was what her son and brother had seen, and a shiver of delight went through her.

She had made her son and brother excited, made their cocks so very hard, and all they had done was see her exposed like this. She wondered what would have happened if she had her finger inside her cunt when they came in, or her panties off, her pussy on lewd display to them pulling their young cocks out, and gushing that creamy sweetness over her thighs.

Her hand pushed deeper into her panties until she could rub along the sides of her inflamed clit. Her hips twisted gently as the sensations burned through her pussy.

Her husband had pulled his cock from her once when they were fucking, and come on her thighs. He thought that that had been disgusting, but Laura had loved the hot, slippery wetness on her flesh. She didn't see anything disgusting about come-juice. She would have loved it if her husband had come on her tits, in her face, even.

She hoped her son and brother were playing with their cocks now. She hoped seeing her had excited them so much that they would go jack off and come.

Moving her finger downward, she stroked the fiery wetness of her pussy-lips, then gently eased her finger inside. A sigh came from her as she penetrated her pussy. That initial penetrating always felt so very good, and sometimes she would come right away, before she began to fuck her finger in and out. It was strange that she had never come when her husband fucked her once a month. She would come very close to it, but before it happened, he was finished and in the shower, washing away the fluids and scent of her juicy body.

Thinking of her son and brother watching her, Laura increased the plunging of her finger. Her hips lifted slightly, the heel of her hand pressing against her distended clit. Alone now, she made soft whimpering noises as her ecstasy bubbled hotter inside her cunt. She wanted to tear her panties off, rip them from her hips, and brutally fuck her cunt with all four of her fingers. But she was afraid her son and brother would come back, see her panties hanging in shreds, vigorously fucking herself like some demented, sex-crazed whore.

That would be nasty.

Her father said she was a nasty girl, her husband said she was sex crazy.

Laura thought it felt good to be nasty, crazy for sex.

She plunged her finger in and out of her juicy cunt, listening to the exciting wet sounds her finger made. She spread her legs wider, arching her cunt to her hand. She squeezed her clit hard, feeling a delicious sort of pain stab through it. She opened her mouth and made soft sounds of rapture, eyes squeezed tightly, her imagination out of control now.

She thrashed her hips about as her finger stabbed and stabbed, reaching for places she had never felt before. Her panties were stretching, ready to tear, but she didn't care. He cunt was pulling and squeezing at her buried finger, clasping it hotly.

Her finger became a cock, a hard cock.

Then it became her brother's cock.

And then her son's cock.

Laura jerked her hand off her tit and stuffed her knuckles into her mouth, stifling the sudden scream of ecstasy as her cunt gripped her finger with a powerful orgasm.

For a long time she shuddered, her body slowly relaxing. She felt the pulsations around her finger as her clit kept twitching. She removed her knuckles from her mouth, now that the threat of a scream was over. She moved it down and cupped her other hand inside her panties, holding her pussy until she recovered a bit of strength.

She had never came so hard before.

That was the hardest orgasm ever, and she wanted more of the same.

Calm now, she swung her leg over the cushions of the couch and sat up, hands at her hips. Her face felt as if it was glowing, and she smiled to the empty room.

Standing, she smoothed her skirt down and adjusted her sweater, then moved slowly to her room, where she undressed and stood beneath the shower. She had just finished rinsing her body of the scented soap when she remembered she was doing just as her ex-husband had done when he finished fucking her.

Laura quickly turned off the shower and stepped from it, drying her body, feeling as if she had performed some ritual to rid her body of its exciting odors… just like her ex-husband.