Chapter 5
The rest of the time we were in Hawaii I managed to keep myself under control. Believe me, it wasn't easy. The main thing that made it difficult was, believe it or not, watching Steve with a twenty-year-old girl he had met. I know it sounds strange, but there was something about that girl that really made me react in odd ways.
Steve and Stephanie were staying in a room down the hall from the one that Harold and I had. Stephanie was thirteen at the time, so I don't know how aware she was of what Steve and the girl, Barbara, were doing. Probably more than I give her credit for, anyway. Kids are like that.
Barbara was really exciting to look at; there was no question about that. She was blonde, with a dark tan and natural, simple features. Her body was slim and well proportioned, and yet there was something about her that made me able to view her growing relationship with my son without getting overly upset.
I did take Steve aside and talk to him once, preparing him for the possibility of getting hurt. He just laughed and told me not to worry, he could take care of himself.
So I didn't worry.
Then one afternoon I was on the beach with Stephanie while Harold was fishing and I had to go to the bathroom. Leaving Stephanie, I went upstairs to the room, and on the way I had to pass the room that Steve and Stephanie were sharing.
At the time I thought that Steve and Barbara were out on the beach somewhere; at least that was the impression that they had given me.
That impression was wrong.
As I passed their door the first thing I noticed was that there was a Do Not Disturb sign hanging on the doorknob. When I stopped, I heard sounds coming from the room. Sounds of lovemaking.
At first I didn't know how to react; should I be angry? Hurt? Sad?
I decided that I was none of these. I was basically intrigued.
And a little turned on.
It was something that I had never admitted, even to myself, but in the last year or so I had been finding myself more and more attracted to Steve. I know it sounds crazy, but he was such a good-looking boy; and now that he was becoming a man, well, I just couldn't overlook the fact that he had a tremendous appeal about him. After all, it isn't just every sixteen-year-old boy who ends up with a good-looking twenty-year-old girl when he's on vacation with his family.
At any rate, I stood outside the door for a few moments listening. I could hear Barbara moaning, and could occasionally make out the actual words she was saying.
"Ohhhhhhhh ... yes, Steve. Now do it. Ohhhh that's it, now harder ... ohhh, harder ... ohh that's fantastic."
And so on.
I could feel my cunt beginning to tingle; in a way it was shameful, but right then I didn't care. It didn't really matter as far as I was concerned; what was going on beyond that door was intensely erotic, and I was simply having a physical reaction to it. No more, no less.
Or so I thought.
Looking up and down the hallway I saw that there was no one about. No maids, no guests.
I had a key to both our room and Steve and Stephanie's room. Hesitating for a moment, I finally decided to use it.
Discreetly, of course.
Quietly I slipped the key into the lock, then turned it. Fortunately there was no click, and a moment later the door was unlocked, but still closed.
Again I looked up and down the hall-no one. I slipped the door open.
Inside, the first thing I saw was Steve's muscular young body. They were on the second bed, and hadn't noticed that the door had been opened. In fact, judging from the way they were going at it, I could probably have walked in and taken a seat and it wouldn't have made any difference.
But I didn't go inside; instead, I contented myself with standing outside and peering in through the four-inch crack in the door.
Steve was pumping madly. With each thrust I could see the muscles in his back and his ass grow tense, rippling beneath the skin while he banged away.
Beneath him was Barbara, her dark brown skin broken deliciously by strips of white where her bikini had been.
I could feel my cunt beginning to pulse and flow as I watched.
Barbara had her eyes closed, her legs spread, and her arms wrapped around Steve's back. His cock was flying in and out of her squirming pussy, surprisingly large for someone his age.
She never stopped moaning, her voice a low, husky whisper.
"C'mon, Steve, do it. Fuck me, baby, fuck my cunt ... ohhhhh yeah, that's it. Harder ... fuck me harder . . , ohhh yeah!"
Then she wrapped her long, slender legs around his back and pulled him deeper into her cunt. Now I could see her tits, white and soft as they bounced and jiggled.
I couldn't help it; I loved it.
"Ohhhh Steve ... are you coming? Don't come inside me ... come on my body ... ohhhhhh I want it on me..."
Steve seemed to suddenly go absolutely crazy. His rate of thrusting practically doubled, and then with a wild, crazy motion he pulled out of her, his long, red cock wet with her sizzling cream.
With a groan, he took his hand and wrapped it around his young meat.
A moment later he came.
Great, sticky gobs of jism shot out of his cock, flying through the air and landing on Barbara.
"Ohhhhh yeah..." she moaned, squirming beneath the pouring fountain of cum. The first wad hit her on the face, and almost immediately her wet tongue slid out and gobbled it down.
Then one landed on her tits.
Finally he was finished, but she didn't seem to notice it. Her hands were sliding all over her body, rubbing the dripping cum into her skin, smiling as if this was the most heavenly experience she could imagine.
Just then I hard someone coming down the hall, so reluctantly I closed the door and walked down to our room, my mind a jumble of conflicting emotions.
Why had I been so turned on by what I had seen? He was my son. MY SON!
After a few minutes, however, it didn't seem so strange. He was a beautiful specimen of humanity, and so was she.
Why shouldn't I be turned on?
All afternoon as I lay on the beach I kept thinking about what I had seen. My mind was filled with images of those two young bodies heaving and slamming into each other. I could hear Barbara's groans and I could see Steve's long cock sliding in and out of her undulating, straining pussy.
By the time I went inside I was as horny as a bitch in heat. My cunt was dripping; the crotch of my swimsuit was wet and creamy with my juices.
I had to get fucked.
Or, failing that, I had to masturbate. Since I was alone, the latter course seemed more feasible, but before I could even begin running the water in the bathtub, the door opened and Harold walked in.
He was drunk. Or at least he had been drinking. And, judging from the way he was staring at my body it seemed-likely that he had been doing some girl-watching in the bar.
"Well, look who's here. The mighty fisherman himself. Catch anything?"
"Fuck you."
I almost gasped out loud. That wasn't like Harold at all. For the most part, in addition to being lazy he was emotionally docile.
"What did you say?"
"You heard me."
His eyes ran over my body, still slick and glistening with the suntan oil I'd used all afternoon. So the old fart wanted to fuck me, was that it? I couldn't believe it. It had been so long since we'd done anything I even wondered if he'd be able to get it up. Still, I was horny and he was a man.
"I take it, then, that you want to fuck me."
"You're a bitch."
"You're not answering my question."
For a moment there was silence. I released the strap that held my top in place; my tits jumped free.
"How many other guys you been fucking?"
"Why Harold, I didn't know you noticed such things." I stepped out of my bottoms. His eyes went straight to my cunt.
"Answer me."
"No more than a dozen. Maybe fifteen."
"Don't be a smart-ass. Tell me the truth." Obviously he thought I was exaggerating. All right then, I'd really blow his mind. "You really want to know the truth?"
"Yes."
"Twenty-two."
"Christ!" He walked unsteadily toward me until he was almost touching me. I could smell the liquor on his breath as he glared down at me. For some reason he appealed to me more in that moment than he had in years; at least he was getting worked up about something instead of taking everything sitting down.
"Can you get it up, Harold?" I asked sweetly, unfastening his belt buckle and pulling down his fly.
"Does that answer your question?" he growled. His cock was rigid.
"Not bad. You must have a lot of cum stored up in there. When was the last time we-"
Suddenly he grabbed me by the hair and forced me back onto the bed. I tried to struggle, not because I didn't want to fuck him but because I just didn't want him to have everything on his terms.
It didn't work.
He was surprisingly strong, and his left arm was more than powerful enough to keep me pinned in place while he stripped off the rest of his clothes.
Then he scrambled forward until he was straddling me, his knees beside my tits, his cock and balls just above my face. I could see his fat belly above his cock, white and soft, but somehow it didn't matter.
His cock dominated everything.
"Suck it," he growled.
"Fuck you."
"Goddammit, suck it! Now!"
He grabbed my hair again and yanked. I yelped in pain. Then he pulled my face up until my mouth was practically touching his scrotum.
"Don't even think about biting it."
There was nothing to do but obey him. I let my tongue slide out and run across, the wrinkled skin of his sac, and almost immediately I could feel it tighten in response to what I was doing.
"That's it. Keep it up, now."
"You keep it up," I managed to say before he jerked my hair again. I couldn't resist saying it.
But he did keep it up. Beautifully.
As I ran my tongue all over his balls, and then up and down his shaft, I somehow lost sight of whose cock it was that I was sucking. My mind, already filled with images of the afternoon and what I had seen between Steve and Barbara, started playing tricks on me.
It was Steve's cock that I was sucking. Not Harold's. Instead of this old, fat body on top of me, I was beneath a young, slim, hard form. In my mind, anyway.
As I slid up and down his slimy shaft I kept thinking about Steve's long, red cock as it pounded in and out of Barbara's willing cunt. I bet she had done this to him too, before I had arrived.
Damn ... I was really getting turned on.
"Harder, dammit."
Harold's harsh voice brought me back to reality. As my mind had wandered I had slowed down what I was doing, and as a result he was getting impatient.
I redoubled my efforts, trying to concentrate on the present. Harold's meat was bigger, stronger than I had ever seen it. It filled up my whole throat, slamming deeper and deeper into me with each stroke.
"That's better."
Then Harold let go of my head and put his hands behind his own ass, jamming two fingers deep into my cunt.
"Uuuuuuhhhh!" I groaned, squirming in his grasp.
"Shut up."
Then he pulled his fingers out and held them in front of him, just a few inches above his cock. Looking up, I could see that they were glistening brightly.
He stuck them in his mouth and licked them.
"Not bad," he admitted, tasting my cream. "For an old bitch."
I almost laughed. He couldn't get to me with that; I might be thirty-four, but there wasn't anybody on the beach with a better body than mine.
When I didn't get angry he became impatient and, becoming rough one more time, he grabbed my hair and pulled my mouth off his cock.
"Roll over," he commanded.
I did as I was told.
A moment later I was on all fours, my tits brushing against the bedspread as they hung down from my chest. From behind me Harold grabbed my ass, spreading my cheeks apart so that he could get a good view of my wet, dripping cunt.
Then I felt his cock against the lips of my pussy, his bulbous head forcing its way through the mushy tissues toward the pulsing interior of my cunt.
"Go ahead, Harold. Fuck me. Don't play around, just fuck me."
"Shut up." He slapped me hard on the ass. The stinging sensation felt strangely sweet, almost enjoyable.
Then his cock was inside me, jamming me, plunging into my pussy with all the force that Harold could muster.
It was fantastic.
I closed my eyes, and once again found myself thinking about Steve and Barbara. Suddenly I was Barbara and Harold was Steve. The cock that was sliding in and out of my cunt was long and red, not thick and purple like Harold's. I thought about the way Barbara had squirmed and moaned, and found myself doing just the same thing.
"Mmmmmm ... yeah, that's it baby, that's it. Slam your cock into me, that's it...."
"Shut up."
Wildly now he jammed into me, his cock raging forward with each wild thrust, then sliding almost all the way out of my cunt before once again plowing inside me.
"Do it, Harold, do it to me ... it's been so long, fuck me Harold, fuck me hard."
He slapped my ass again. I could feel it stinging and tingling, but I didn't care. Nothing mattered now except his cock.
Steve's cock.
But there was more to it than that. I kept thinking about Barbara as well. The way she moved, the way her tits slid around on her chest, the way her thighs strained to accept the cock that was pummeling her.
It was all strange.
Then I felt Harold's cock beginning to shudder.
"Don't come inside me, Harold. Come on me, take it out and come on me..."
I wanted to feel it the same way that Barbara had felt it, hot cum splattering on my skin.
For some reason Harold went along with it. Two more thrusts and then he pulled his cock out of me. Immediately I twisted beneath him, ending up on my back just in time to see his cock, slick and glistening with my honey, suddenly erupt.
Hot cum flew through the air and landed in the valley between my tits.
My fingers found it and rubbed it into my skin. Then another glob landed on my throat. And another on my cheek.
By the time he was finished there were wads of cum scattered over the top half of my body from my stomach to my face. I rubbed my hands in it, closing my eyes and thinking of Barbara. I smoothed it all over my body, bathing in it, rubbing it into my tits, my neck, tasting some of it, luxuriating in it.
But it wasn't Harold's cum; not in my mind, at least. It was Steve's. My son's.
Keeping my eyes closed I continued to rub it into my skin, loving every sticky second that passed, knowing that something powerful was happening inside me as I did it.
Finally I was finished, but when I opened my eyes I saw that Harold was gone. Where was he?
Somehow it didn't matter.
I had a lot of things to think about.