Chapter 4
"Mom, what's Dad been doing on Saturdays?" Jason asked.
Joyce froze, her back to her son. Miraculously, she didn't drop the stack of dishes she was holding. Her fingers tightened on them until her knuckles were white. She knew if she'd been facing Jason her pallor would have given her away. What could she tell him? Her mind racing, she fought to keep her voice steady. "What makes you ask that?"
"Must be something pretty important," Jason pointed out. "He hasn't been to one of my ball games in over a month. He always used to come to my ball games." Jason's tone was a little plaintive.
"Has it been that long?" Joyce asked, startled. It couldn't have been over a month! That incredible afternoon, the one with the stranger in the bar, had been only two weeks ago. As she tried to figure it out, she felt her color slowly returning to normal. She went across the kitchen to put the plates away. Then, closing the cupboard, she turned to look at her son.
Jason was sitting at the kitchen table with a huge glass of milk and the cookie jar, leafing slowly through a comic book. "It's been five weeks," he observed, flipping the comic book away. "And Judy, too. She used to come to my games. You never did, but Judy did, and Dad did. Now nobody comes. Doesn't anybody care about me any more?"
Joyce's heart was suddenly flooded with affection for her son. Moving quickly, she sank down on the chair next to his and reached out to touch him. She realized painfully that, in the turmoil, Jason had been forgotten by everyone, including her. "Oh, Jason, of course we do."
"I never even see Judy any more," Jason complained. "I wanted to talk to her about something this afternoon and she just told me I was a baby. Me, a baby."
"Well, you are younger than she is," Joyce observed placatingly.
"But I'm not a baby," Jason insisted. "I wanted to ask her something about girls. How'm I gonna learn anything about girls if I can't ask her?"
"You wanted to know something about ... girls?" Joyce's voice caught.
"Yeah. I don't know nothing...."
"Anything," Joyce corrected automatically.
"I don't know anything about girls," Jason complained. "I wanted her to tell me something about girls."
"Like what?" Joyce asked, feeling as if she were walking slowly into a pool of quicksand.
"Well, like what girls look like, for example," Jason explained. "I don't even know what girls look like."
"You've seen Judy naked," Joyce pointed out.
"Yeah, but not in a long time. And I want to know what boys and girls do together, too. Like when she and that dumb Patty go off together with two guys. I followed them once, but they ran me off. I thought maybe Dad would tell me something, but I never see him, either. He's always off playing tennis or something." Jason reached for another cookie.
Joyce was silent, thinking quickly. One comer of her mind noted idly that the insides of her thighs still hurt from the wild session with the bag boy at the market that afternoon. How she'd succeeded in having him in the parking lot in broad daylight without getting arrested, she'd never know. She knew it was one screwing he'd never forget.
The silence grew longer, forcing her to drag her mind back to the problem at hand. There seemed one quick, simple, all-encompassing solution to Jason's problems, but she wasn't sure she had the guts to take that step. And what if she offered herself to her son, and he rejected her?
"I don't have a game tomorrow," Jason noted. "I thought maybe I could talk to Dad then, but he's got a tennis game or something and said he won't be home all day."
"Did you tell him you didn't have a game?" Joyce asked quickly, a plan suddenly forming in her mind.
"I didn't have a chance to," Jason grumbled.
"He busted right out and told me he couldn't come to my game tomorrow before I even told him I didn't have one. I just wanted to ask him to talk to me about girls, since I don't have a game, but he didn't give me a chance."
"So he thinks you have a game tomorrow," Joyce mused. "And he thinks I'm going to be gone all day, too."
"Are you?" Jason asked, obviously disappointed.
"I was. But I can change my plans easily enough. How would you like to spend tomorrow with me?"
"Doing what?"
"Learning about girls."
"Sure!" Jason answered instantly.
And that was how Joyce ended up crouching in the bushes outside the basement window with Jason. This time she was prepared for what they hoped to see.
"What're we doing here?" Jason asked.
Joyce tried to get a sharp twig out of the back of her neck. "Spying," she observed calmly.
"But you've always told me it was wrong to spy on people," Jason observed with crushing logic.
"It is," Joyce confirmed. "But in a war, countries spy on each other."
"Are we at war?"
"You might say we are. Call it the war of the sexes. Spying's the easiest way I know of to answer your questions, about everything."
"Everything?"
"About girls, and boys and girls, and about your father, and maybe even about Judy," Joyce expanded. It would also confirm or deny her remaining suspicions.
Further conversation was cut off by the sound of a car door slamming. Then, faintly, came the sound of the back door banging shut. Someone called out. Joyce held her breath. Through the half-open window she heard footsteps on the cellar stairs.
"Didn't expect anyone to be home, did you?" Judy asked as she came into view.
"No, but it's always a good idea to check," Paul answered.
Joyce was puzzled. Where were Patty and her father? Maybe they were just behind.
"Mom's off shopping all day, as usual," Judy pointed out. "And my baby brother has one of his dumb baseball games."
Joyce felt Jason stiffen with anger and put a restraining hand on his arm.
"It's just the two of us, Daddy," Judy went on.
Joyce felt as if an icy hand had closed around her heart. It couldn't be! Not her husband and his own daughter!
Judy turned to her father and snuggled up to him. "It's just the two of us," she repeated softly, linking her hands behind his neck and looking up at him. The pose arched her body gracefully, pushing her hips in against his. She drew his head down toward hers and their lips met. His arms went around her and they melted together into a tight, passionate embrace. Paul's strong arms, with their deep tan and thick black hair, looked even darker against the pure white of Judy's tennis outfit.
Joyce thought she was going to die. Seeing her husband with Patty had been a shock, but she'd gotten over that. She'd gotten used to the idea of her husband regularly screwing a high school girl. In retaliation Joyce had probably set some sort of a youth record herself. But this was something else again! This was something she'd never expected in her life. Oh, she'd expected Judy to have lost her virginity to Mark Conklin. But the idea of Paul and Judy having an incestuous affair had never crossed her mind. That she was planning the identical things with Jason didn't occur to her. She could feel Jason's eyes flickering from the tableau in the basement to his mother, and knew she was as pale as a sheet. With an effort of will, Joyce pried her fingers out of their premature graves in the earth.
Paul's embrace of his daughter loosened and his hands fumbled with the back of her dress. He unfastened the hook, then ran the zipper down with exciting slowness.
Joyce inhaled sharply when she saw that Judy wasn't wearing a bra.
Judy stepped away from her father and slipped the dress forward off her shoulders and down her arms, baring herself to the waist.
Joyce heard Jason gulp loudly.
Judy hooked her thumbs in the dress, eased it over her hips and let it drop to the floor. She stepped out of it, then gave a kick that sent the white garment scooting across the floor away from her.
Joyce sucked in her breath, thinking disjointedly of the dirt the dress was picking up.
Judy was wearing lacy white bikini panties. She wrapped her arms around her father's neck and pressed her nearly nude body tightly against him as they kissed for a second time. Then she let go, backed away, and began to undress him, tugging his shirt out of the waistband of his tennis shorts and stripping it up over his head. He bent over so she could get it down his arms and off.
Judy tossed the shirt aside and casually reached for the waist of his shorts. A moment's work and she was shoving them down his legs, kneeling in front of him.
His groin was now covered only by his athletic supporter. His jockstrap looked ludicrous trying to contain the irresistible force of his mammoth erection.
Still kneeling, Judy helped her father out of his shoes, socks and shorts, then reached for his jockstrap and lifted it out over the head of his cock. She seemed barely to notice the huge shaft as she removed her father's last garment.
Joyce was blinking her eyes in an effort to clear her vision. She didn't know what her tears were for. Judy was so beautiful, so lithe and graceful. And Paul was so powerful and masculine.
With a deceptively easy, graceful move, Judy stripped off her flimsy panties before standing up again. When she did stand, she looked very tender and graceful and vulnerable in front of her father's massive bulk. Paul was more than a foot taller than his daughter, blocky and powerful. His skin was tanned darkly, and was thickly hairy. Judy was small and slender and graceful, her skin a golden hairless tan.
Joyce noticed that her daughter had faint pale areas where her bikini usually shielded her from the sun.
Judy slipped her tiny hand into her father's big one as they went over to the couch. As if they'd rehearsed it, Paul held her hand as she stretched out. Judy extended one arm up the back of the couch, the other down along her side. Gripping the couch with her fingers, she rubbed her thighs sensuously together and licked her lips.
"God, you're beautiful," Paul sighed. "You remind me of your mother when I first met her."
"Did you do this when you first met her?" Judy teased.
"Are you kidding? She was a virgin on our wedding night. I never saw her like this 'til long after we were married."
Joyce's throat knotted. She'd been too ashamed to let him see her like that!
"Play with me, Daddy," Judy requested. "Play with me as if I were a doll just made for you."
Paul sat on the couch next to his daughter and reached for her with his big, hairy hands. He stroked her cheek, then slid his hands down the graceful line of her throat. Judy's eyes glittered with excitement. His hands brushed over her breasts, paused and returned to the shy mounds and their pink tips. Judy's eyes closed as a shiver ran through her. Her father's hands completely covered her small breasts. Her rib cage was heaving visibly.
Joyce felt the fires starting deep inside her own body as she watched. Reaching blindly, Joyce found Jason's arm and locked her fingers around it like a vise. Her eyes were riveted on the bodies on the couch. She heard Jason swallow noisily.
One of Paul's hands slid down along Judy's body from her breasts, then out of sight. Judy's legs sagged slowly apart; then her entire body convulsed. Her knees bent, and one foot slid off the couch to the floor. She sank her fingers deep into the cushion of the couch, then slid them up into her father's lap.
Joyce couldn't see what Judy was doing with her hand, but didn't need to. She could almost feel the hot shaft in her own fingers. She knew that cock so well. It was the cock that had sired her son, and the girl holding it now. Joyce felt her cunt weeping gently from excitement and frustration. She heard her son panting.
Paul shifted and moved, and his cock came into view, a tower of hot gristle. Judy released it as he crawled between her thighs, moving very carefully to keep from crushing her.
Judy was wide-open to him. Her crotch looked fuzzy. Her body looked young and vulnerable under her father's threatening bulk. He was huge. He was going to crush the life out of her! She lifted her pelvis in welcome to him. She was obviously eagerly anticipating his assault on her. He came down on her slowly as she reached between them and guided his cock to her pussy. Joyce could see the huge shaft begin to sink slowly into the hot nest of Judy's cunt. Then Paul's mass cut off the view and he was crushing Judy into the cushions. He was so big he covered her almost like a blanket. Only a thin strip of her flank was visible between his heavy bulk and the cushions. One of her legs stuck out from under his hips, her foot trailing down to the floor. It looked weirdly detached. But it moved. Judy lifted it and wrapped it around her father's powerful, hairy thighs.
Joyce wanted to tear her eyes off the scene and see what Jason's reactions were. Finally managing to flick her gaze from Judy and Paul to Jason, Joyce noted the dilation of his eyes, the film of sweat on his forehead, and the way he licked his lips. Then she couldn't keep her eyes away from the basement any longer.
Paul's ass looked very pale compared to the rest of him. His hips moved rhythmically as he slowly worked his cock into his daughter. Judy wrapped her arms around him. She looked like a bug the way her arms and legs came out from under his body and wrapped around him.
Her face was out of sight, buried in his chest, she was so short.
The muscles of Paul's back rippled and flexed as he pistoned his prick into his daughter. Judy's hands moved restlessly over his back, her fingers poking and prodding as if she were testing the power there. Her body moved under his as she answered his thrusts. She wriggled under him, her hips improving and increasing the screwing with the bumping, grinding moves all women know instinctively.
The only sounds in the basement now were the groaning protests of the couch and the panting of the participants. Judy's was quick, half-voiced, a sharp, breathless whimpering. Paul's was a sharp grunting that echoed every powerful drive of his hips.
Joyce heard a bird singing somewhere nearby, an innocently pure counterpoint to the earthy lust she was seeing.
Paul was jerking his hips now, hammering his cock into his daughter's tender guts like a pile driver. Judy was urging him on, her nails clawing his back, leaving thin red welts. She sank her teeth into his neck as her muscles convulsed, and Paul rammed his shaft home one last time, then held on. His body shook with strain.
Joyce knew he was pouring his load of cum into Judy's cunt, and could almost feel the powerful hot shots of semen in her own pussy. Her initial shock and dismay at the discovery of the relationship between her husband and daughter was totally blotted out by the blazing lust she was witnessing and feeling.
"Wow!" Jason sighed softly.
"Shhh," Joyce cautioned, even more softly, a finger to her lips. She shook her head warningly as he started to speak. She relaxed when he returned his attention to the basement.
Paul slowly withdrew from Judy and stood up. His sagging cock dripped thick juices. Judy reached out, scooped up a glob and carried it to her mouth, her eyes sparkling. Then she held out her hand and let her father help her sit up.
They snuggled together on the couch, arms around each other, legs stretched out in front of them. Paul's feet were a few inches apart, his cock and balls huddled down between his thighs. Judy's legs were crossed so that only a small triangle of her snatch was visible.
"You're wonderful," Judy sighed contentedly.
"You're pretty good yourself."
"As good as Mom?"
"Better," Paul answered.
"Really?"
"She's kind of ... reserved," Paul elaborated. "She always wants to make it in the bedroom, at night, in the dark. And always the same position."
Joyce felt an explosive flash of anger at this. It wasn't true!
"Sounds full," Judy agreed, her head resting on Paul's shoulder.
"She's getting old," Paul added.
Joyce was really infuriated now.
"And you're not?" Judy teased.
"What do you think?" He pinched one of her nipples.
"You're not if you can make it with me again, right now," Judy giggled.
Paul sputtered slightly, and Joyce's mood improved. "I'm not Superman," Paul argued.
"You mean you can't?" Judy was obviously disappointed.
"How come Patty's got such an even tan and you don't?" Paul asked, changing the subject.
"She goes to a nude beach regularly. You won't ever let me go."
"Not alone I won't."
"How about if you took me?" Judy demanded.
"Me? At a place like that?"
"Why not? Not getting old, are you?" Judy asked with ill-concealed triumph. She'd mouse trapped him as neatly as Joyce had ever seen.
"No, I'm not getting old," Paul spat. "Then why don't you take me tomorrow?" Judy urged.
"Tomorrow? But what about your mother?"
"Bring her along."
"Not on your life," Paul snorted. "In the first place, she'd never agree. And in the second place ... well, you know what the second reason is."
"So, let's tell her we've got a special all-day tennis match," Judy suggested. "She'll never know the difference."
Jason wormed his way close enough to Joyce to be able to whisper in her ear. "Mom, that's lying!"
Joyce shushed him sharply but carefully. She was furious. The extent of the deception left her so angry she was seeing red. Her husband and her daughter were both conspiring against her. She wished desperately that she had a gun, a knife, anything. She'd never been so close to murder in her life! It didn't occur to her that what she was really angry about was what Paul had said to Judy about her.
"Come on, Daddy, don't be a chicken," Judy urged.
"All right, we'll do it," Paul said. "We'll even skip church so we can get there nice and early."
"Goody!" Judy cheered. "Now, let's celebrate. I'll bet I can get you ready to go again real fast."
"I'll bet you can," Paul agreed with a chuckle, reaching for her.
"No, let me do it." Judy pushed his hands away and slid off the couch to the floor. She spread his knees, and slid up between his legs, her knees between his feet. She reached for his limp cock and picked up its head. As she stroked it carefully it quickly began to swell in her fingers.
Joyce was shaking with the exhaustion of her anger. Blazing fury had been replaced by icy resolve. Fiendish plots burned through her as she continued to watch. She didn't yet know how she was going to do it, but she knew she would make Paul pay, and pay, and pay. She thought of her husband roasting in the hellfire and brimstone the minister preached, and smiled grimly. That would be too kind. She'd find a way to make sure he received his just reward in this life and let the devil himself worry about the next life.
"Oh, yeah," Paul groaned happily as his cock got harder and harder and harder in Judy's graceful little hands.
"You're too dry," Judy observed matter-of-factly. "Have to do something about that."
"Oh, wow!" Paul gasped. Joyce gulped.
Judy stuffed her mouth down on her father's cock, then jerked her head slowly back. She left his penis gleaming with her spit. Then, before it could dry, she got up from the floor and straddled him. The curvy cheeks of her ass gleamed in the light as she worked her way up to his cock.
His shaft looked titanic. It was aiming straight up into her. Joyce didn't see how Judy could possibly take that entire mass into her.
Judy lowered herself slowly onto the big rod, using her fingers to keep it pointed straight up into her. She nestled its head in her and paused to shift her grip and brace one hand on her father's shoulder. His strong fingers were gripping her slender waist.
She pressed slowly down on the big staff, and Joyce was sure Judy would split wide-open on it. Judy drove herself slowly down on the relentless steel bar, her muscles quivering with the effort. Paul's fingers dug into her where he held her.
Judy paused, and Joyce thought hopefully that maybe her daughter had given up. Judy lifted slightly, and Joyce felt her own muscles relax slightly. Then Judy lowered herself a bit, and Joyce's muscles knotted up again.
Judy slowly pumped farther and farther down on her father's monster organ until, with a soft whimper of pleasure, she had it completely up her cunt hole. Then she paused, snuggling against her father's powerful, muscular hairy chest, his entire cock in her young pussy.
Joyce's breasts felt bruised by the hard ground as she lay peering in the basement window. Her head bumped against Jason's as they watched the licentious display. Joyce smiled wryly. She'd told him his questions would be answered. They had been, with a vengeance.
Judy lifted up slowly. The glistening shaft of her father's cock slid into view as she raised up, higher and higher. Then she lowered herself, pistoning the shaft deep into her cunt again. There was a soft squish, and a wave of juices poured down the powerful staff into Paul's thick, curling black pubic air. His tense grin was absent-mindedly moronic, Joyce thought, mindless.
Judy kept her moves steady, gradually picking up speed. Paul's thighs and legs flexed. He lifted his hips to meet each of Judy's downward strokes. He was using his firm hold on her waist to guide her moves. His powerful, hairy legs looked almost beastly in comparison with the smooth, graceful sweep of Judy's back. She was sitting up very straight as she moved up and down on his prick.
The couch was squeaking and protesting as the speed and violence of Judy's moves increased. She added a forward-and-back motion to her hips, and her moves grew wilder.
Suddenly she lifted a little too high, her hips went a little too far, and Paul's cock popped out of her. Judy whimpered and grabbed for the glistening tower of flesh, stuffing it back into her pussy with panicky haste. She buried it in her with a downward slamming lunge. She leaned forward, her moves becoming less and less coordinated, more and more frantic. She wasn't a modern teen-ager any more; she was a lust-crazed animal primitively gutting herself on the spear of masculinity. She slammed down on Paul one last time and seemed to weld herself to him, her muscles straining. Paul's hips lifted until he was supporting her totally. Her entire weight was concentrated vertically down through a single point of contact, his cock.
Paul held the bridge until his muscles began to shake uncontrollably. Pearly drops of cum oozed down over his balls to drip gummily on the couch. His muscles collapsed, and Judy slumped down on him. With a weird, slow motion, the two of them slid off the couch and onto the hard floor.
Joyce drew a deep, shaky breath and glanced at her son. Jason's eyes, just inches away, met hers, and it was like a new form of magnetism. Their heads drew irresistibly closer until their lips locked together. There was nothing maternal about this kiss. It was loaded with lust and the promise of more lust to come. It went on and on and on, until Joyce's chest hurt and her thigh muscles began to quiver helplessly.
When they broke the kiss to look back into the basement, it was empty. Only a small glistening puddle of cum remained on the floor as evidence that it had all been real. Joyce in the lead, mother and son pushed out through the shrubbery.
Joyce managed to find her voice. "Tomorrow, when they got to the beach," she said, knowing Jason would understand.
Jason looked at her, more serious than she'd ever seen him. He nodded solemnly. They brushed the leaves and twigs off themselves and made their way to the house.