"Wife turned on" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brown Heather)

CHAPTER SIX

My experience with the sailor was an abrupt turning point for me. It damaged my confidence so severely that I decided to permanently swear off sex. Whore or wife, I was convinced that I couldn't handle it.

Making a hundred and eighty degree turn, I decided to turn all my attention toward my family.

Given my new state of mind, the fact that Don refused to enter the bedroom except to change clothes seemed like a blessing. Without the distraction of sex, I was convinced that I could concentrate on being a good mother.

After all, there was no doubt that I'd been neglecting the kids lately. So why not give them the attention they deserved, while at the same time getting away from the curse of the flesh that had been making my life miserable since I'd been raped. I could do worse with my life, I convinced myself, than being a full-time mother.

What they needed was someone giving them guidance not a mother that was interested in satisfying the neurotic yearning between her legs.

By coincidence, summer arrived at the time I made my decision, so the kids were home from school. This gave me the perfect opportunity to throw myself into being the kind of mother I knew I could be. It was time to forget about my own needs and concentrate on raising my children.

However, it was not as easy as I thought it would be. I quickly found out that kids are a lot more complicated nowadays than they'd been back when I was a girl. As a concerned mother, my work was more than cut out for me.

The first issue that presented itself was that Gwen, in her teenage years, was boy crazy. Here I was, wanting to pass along the traditional feminine skills of housekeeping, sewing and cooking, and all she seemed interested in was running after every pimply faced string bean in sight.

One day I told her that I would teach her how to prepare the family's favorite dish, tuna casserole. She, however, in a burst of rebellion, informed me that she couldn't be less interested.

I tried to soft-soap her, but our confrontation over the tuna casserole soon flared into a heated argument. Finally I was defeated and she stomped out of the house, saying she was going over to see Billy Preston, because at least he appreciated her for what she was, instead of what somebody wanted her to be.

"I want to do my own thing!" she yelled defiantly just before she slammed the door.

Things were not working out. In her bedroom at the time of her departure, I sat down on her bed and began to cry at my failure to communicate when I had wanted to so badly.

It was then that I discovered that Ted was still in the house and had overheard everything. He came into the room and watched me for several minutes before I noticed him.

When our eyes finally met he came over and sat down on the bed beside me. "Gee, Mom, I'm sorry," he said. It was the first kind thing anybody had said to me in along time.

"Don't worry," I responded, "it isn't as bad as it seems. Gwen and I will work it out. She's just growing up."

"But – what about you and Daddy?" he proved himself wiser than I'd thought. "You seem to have trouble getting along with everybody."

I was so upset that I admitted he was right. All of a sudden, in the face of his compassion, I felt like I was the child and he was the parent.

"What should I do?" I wailed.

"Don't cry, Mom," he tried to console me.

But the sobs became more intense. I had completely broken down in front of my son.

When he saw that I wasn't going to stop crying, he put his arms around me and hugged me. It seemed like the kindest thing anyone had ever done for me. Looking, back, I think I was afraid that if I stopped bawling, Ted would stop holding me. In my anguish that seemed like a fate worse than death, so I continued to cry.

With my body wracking with sobs, I lost my ability to sit upright and gradually slid over onto my side. Following my descent, Ted slipped into the curve of my fetally positioned body and began wiping away my tears.

Eventually, when I still didn't stop crying, he began kissing me. They were small innocent kisses at first, a sons last resort in telling his mother that at least one person cared deeply about her. However, when I began to respond to his soft lips with kisses of my own, they became something more.

Finally he kissed me on the mouth. When he did, I automatically parted my lips and sucked his tongue inside. Before I knew it, my son and I were soul-kissing.

Now, at last, the crying ceased. My son's body next to mine and his tongue down my throat were like tranquilizers.

Automatically my hands began to roam all over him. Immediately, I was surprised how muscular he had become. He had developed into a real man.

When I ran my hand under his t-shirt and rubbed his belly, he sucked in his breath and opened a temporary gap between his jeans and his waist. Falling into the open space, my fingers plunged inside his pants.

He wasn't wearing any underwear. I'd scalded him about this many times before, but I had no criticism now. Not when, suddenly, I could feel the burning flesh of his cock and balls.

He was stiff, his prick much larger than I'd ever imagined it could be. "Is it all right if I play with you?" I asked, as I began slowly jacking him off under his jeans.

Rather than answering with words, he answered with his hand. Slipping it under my dress and between my thighs, he told me that what I was doing was fine with him by beginning to finger my pussy.

Soon I had his pants unbuttoned and down around his ankles, while he was rolling my dripping panties down my thighs. Then together, we kicked the garments from our bodies sand quickly began removing the rest of each other's clothing.

When we were nude, we briefly pulled apart so we could look at one another. We were both impressed – he by the lush ripeness of my mature body – I by his hard slimness and rippling energy.

"What do we do now?" he asked. Perhaps if he had shown the slightest bit of nervousness, I'd have backed off. However, he was as calm as he could be, making our nude confrontation seem perfectly natural.

"Would you like to eat your mother's pussy?" I matter-of-factly offered myself to him.

"If you could do something to me while I'm doing it to you."

"I'll suck your cock," I said without hesitating. "I'll bet it's a sweet one."

"Gwen says so," he made me come up short for the first time. "She thinks it's as groovy as Billy Preston's."

"What?" I blurted incredulously. "Did I hear you right?"

I had. Without a trace of self-consciousness, he informed me that his sister had dared him to take off his pants about six months ago, and when she had seen how developed he was had immediately gone down on him. They had been sneaking into each other's rooms ever since and having sex.

"Did your sister teach you how to make love?" I stammered.

"Yes, she taught me how to fuck, if that's what you mean," he said as he began slipping his face down between my thighs and working his stiff prick toward my mouth. "She's been doing it with the guys at school since she had her first period."

For two years my daughter had had an active sex life while mine had finally come to nothing. Life is full of ironies and surprises, but this took the cake.

"Is your sister a good lay?" I forced myself to ask the unthinkable.

"Yes, she's a terrific fuck," he said, his face now so close to my pussy that his breath wafted against the fluttering lips. "But I'll bet you're better, Mom."

Whatever resistance I had felt vanished with that statement. The fact that my son had such confidence in my ability as a woman completely disarmed me. I couldn't wait to have sex with him so I could live up to the confidence he had in me.

From this point on, prolonged conversation would only confuse things. I wanted Ted's cock more than I had ever wanted anything in my life, and he apparently felt the same way about my hairy snatch. Our positioning completed, we began a long, writhing, slurping sixty-nine.

Ted had apparently done more than just fuck his sister because he knew exactly what to do with his tongue. Making it rigid, he split my pussy lips and sent it into my gooey depths. At the same time I swallowed his prick whole and began deepthroating it for all I was worth.

The best cock I had ever tasted had been the sailor's in the alley. However, Ted's had at least eight years on that one and was twice as sweet. It was too delicious for me to feel any guilt.

And what he was doing to my cunt – Jesus, it was fantastic! Not even Ann had been able to orally get me off as well as my own son was doing it.

His tongue seemed to know just where to probe. Points of pleasure were being stimulated within me that I had not even been aware that I possessed. I was coming over and over again.

To show my appreciation, I sucked his cock with more creativity than I'd ever applied to the male organs to which I'd given head before now, its comparative smallness seemed a virtue because I could get his nuts inside my mouth along with the rest of it. I was determined to drain him dry.

It wasn't long before his hips started bucking uncontrollably. He was going to come in my mouth and my heart was beating wildly in anticipation. To make it happen faster, I shoved my hand between the cheeks of his ass and found his puckering anus. Making the inevitable digital insertion, I gouged downward in the tightness toward his blossoming prostate, knowing the act might increase his manufacture of sperm by at least two-fold.

Then I pulled the plug.

He moaned in my crotch, his prick grew an extra inch, and he exploded. Hot, fresh cum cascaded in a torrent down my throat and filled my stomach, it seemed like a hefty dose of Gelusil must to an ulcer victim in crisis.

There was so much spunk that I couldn't drink it all. While he still spurted, the excess began backing up and saturating my breathing passages. It began dribbling from my nose as though I had sneezed while eating oatmeal.

When the creamy flood finally stopped, I had an anxious moment wondering if I had taken too much out of him and spoiled him for immediate fucking. But, no, to my glee, his prick remained as hard as steel. He was ready to keep on going.

"Fuck me!" I pleaded, pulling away from his mouth and opening my thighs to the ultimate. "Stick your cock between Mom's legs and spray her cunt the way you sprayed her mouth."

He scrambled into the crux of my loins and pressed his dick against my throbbing cunt. Obviously this was the hairiest twat he had ever had access to, and he liked the mature flossiness.

"I don't see why Dad sleeps on the couch," he said. "if I had a cunt like this I could fuck, I'd be doing it every night."

Then he penetrated. Immediately he was banging away to the hilt. His sister had taught him well.

I wrapped my legs around him, drawing him even nearer. The action was so hot it felt like our loins were melting together. This was fucking!

"Harder, harder," I moaned. "Your cock feels so goooood in my cunt. Is my pussy tight enough for you?"

He breathlessly informed me that it was. It made me feel terrific, knowing that I could make my cunt muscles do the job at my command.

He came after only a short period of fucking. The second time was even richer than the first. What my snatch couldn't hold creamed down my thighs and trickled into the crack of my ass.

However, when he was through shooting his wad, Ted surpassed himself. Without even stopping for breath, he started screwing me even harder than before he had come. His stamina was incredible.

"Keep fucking me, keep fucking me!" I implored. Needless to say, my urging was far from necessary. My son took to screwing his mother like a duck to water.

As for myself, all of my separate orgasms had melted into one. My senses were like a snowball, gathering force and volume as though hurtling down a steep hill. Before long I would be the victim of an avalanche.

His cock snapped in my love-hole and exploded again. The third time actually surpassed the first two efforts. By now the womb that had nurtured my son into life was full of his cum.

And, when it was over, his cock was still as hard as ever! Both of us were more eager to keep on fucking than we had been before.

Because my twat was so full of slippery cream, any more friction there was impossible. If we were going to keep on making love, we'd have to shift operations to a fresh, dry hole. Both of us knew what that meant.

"Fuck me in the ass!" I cried, but my words were beside the point. Ted had already pulled his prick from my cunt and was moving it down a notch. My asshole was waiting for him with ridges flared.

Oh, God, it was tight as he shoved it in. "More, more, more!" I screamed until he was in me to the hilt. His beautiful balls, were wedged between my buns and churning with what would be his fourth load of spunk.

I wanted his latest outpouring even more desperately than I'd wanted I he first three. Cum to me was like heroin to a junkie – the more I got, the more I wanted.

He fucked my ass harder and harder until I could feel the jerking impact all the way up in my intestines. The shit was bubbling in my colon, waiting to be joined by a blast of scalding male juice.

Anally orgasming already, I wiggled my butt like somebody had poured gasoline all over my tail and lit it on fire. I was consumed by, the flames of incestuous passion.

It took him a little longer to come this time, since, after all, this was his fourth time at bat. However, the wait was worth it because it meant the divine friction was prolonged. I'd never felt anything as exciting as my son's hard-on pumping up my tight asshole.

Then, after several minutes of furious pistoning, he gasped. His prick lurched so the head reached the mouth of my bowels. His pelvis cracked against my thrusting crotch.

"Come in my ass!" I screamed. "Fill my ass with your jizz."

At long last the eruption occurred. I'm not exaggerating when I say that this time it was like a miniature volcano. There was no difference between his spunk and molten lava.

The cum rushed into my colon and blasted my crap from its moorings with its pressure. The center of my being felt as though I'd swallowed a time-bomb, digested it, and had it go off before I could defecate it. Jack-knifing from the explosive liquid thunder within me, I pitched around on the creaking bed like a ship in a violent storm. Carrying Ted between my locked legs, I rolled us over several times until we reached the edge of the mattress. There, we seemed to hover in mid-air for several seconds until we finally fell.

When we toppled to the floor, his prick came shooting out my asshole and fell back against his flat belly, still dribbling goo. Throwing myself at his beautiful crotch, I hungrily licked up what was left. Because he had no pubic hair, nothing was there to get in my way and every remaining drop was mine.

When I was finished, his groin and cock and balls were inflamed to scarlet from the constant chafing of my cunt, ass and mouth. He would be sore down there for days. Everytime my son got up or sat down he would think of his mother.

I can't tell you how much the thought of that pleased me.