Chapter 10
In our part of the country, potluck suppers are common, where the wives bring different dishes, and everybody gets something special, without the hostess having to spring for the whole cost. So in a way, when the two families gathered at our place that evening, it was sort of a double potluck. Not only were almost all of us going to get some special fucking with different dishes, but Carolyn brought along food, too.
Betty had been warned by phone, and although she couldn't say anything at her end of the line because little Kim was close by, the timbre of excitement in her voice told me plenty. I'd mentioned that Carolyn was all steamed up for something to happen with the three of us, and possibly even the four. But Kim would have to be safely tucked into bed for the night before anything could get started. That was okay, my wife said; that was fine, and she'd be looking forward to seeing me and my lover.
In the truck, Carolyn was nervous. She had a pot of something that smelled delicious on the floor held between her feet, and she was dressed in neat, clean jeans and a snug blouse. She looked wonderful, a trim and lithe package of sensuous beauty, but she was edgy.
"How in the hell," she said, "do I just face up to Betty, when she knows I've been screwing you? And Charlie; oh, that's going to be worse. I mean, maybe he doesn't know I'm wise to what he's doing with your wife, but he certainly must suspect something going on between you and me.”
I said, "He won't be angry or upset; maybe he'll be envious, and he ought to be. Charlie doesn't realize what a snug, juicy, and fantastic pussy his mother is carrying between those long, slender legs.”
"Damn," she said abruptly, "even that remark bothers me, Rich. I try not to let it, but it does.”
"Okay," I said, "let's just pretend this is a normal evening.”
Of course, we couldn't. Betty met us at the front steps and signaled for me to take the covered pot Carolyn was carrying. Then, after a moment's hesitancy, the two women were suddenly in each other's arms, and crying. Can you believe, crying? It was the silliest damned thing, but they seemed to understand, and to welcome the relief of tears.
Their faces were buried in each other's hair, gold against ebony, tall, sleek woman pressed close to shorter, riper woman, arms locked, almost breast to breast, and as I stared at them, I could almost see through their blouses, to where the warm, rounded hillocks of white flesh were touching. I imagined dark brown nipple sliding across deep pink nipple, and my imagination raced further, showing me a vividly intriguing picture of black, curly pubic hair mingling with bronzed, shaggy cunt hair, and I shook my head, something powerful stirring within my belly.
I left them hugging and whispering on the porch, and carried the pot inside, through the living room to the kitchen. Charlie was stalking around there, jumpy as a fox in a pack of hounds, whirling as I came in. I didn't see little Kim anywhere.
Charlie whispered hoarsely, "How'd it go, man? With my mom, I mean. Oh wow—I've been crawling the walls, because Betty said to wait.”
"It went great," I said, putting the pot on the stove with others gathered there. "We made it in the barn, first time, even though I practically had to rape her. But once I got it between your mother's long legs—”
The kid trembled. "You-you fucked her?”
"Sure, I fucked her," I said, watching his face. "She needed a cock real bad; it seems like she never had a good one before.”
Putting his hands on the table, Charlie leaned forward and asked, "How—I mean, what does she—what else did you and mom—”
"We spent the day in the sack, after that," I answered him. "Your mother is a fabulous lay, as good as Betty, only different.”
He couldn't keep still; he'd glance at the living room, then at the back door, where I figured his sister was, somewhere outside. Then he'd look back at me, trying to read all the answers to all the questions in my face, and then I realized that this horny kid had been sweating out his mother all along. He said, "Oh wow, oh wow. And when you told her about me putting it to Betty?”
"It rocked her some," I admitted. "So take it easy around her tonight, son; she has to think things over and adjust Is your sister still in the dark about all this?”
"Yeah," he said, shifting his feet and acting as if he had an itch in his crotch. "Kim's with the horses, and we're going to have a rough time getting her to go to bed early.”
"Leave that to the women," I suggested. "And be cool to your mother.”
"If I can," he muttered, and flinched when the women came into the kitchen.
Turning, I saw they were holding hands, that their disparate thighs were brushing as they walked. Their eyes were still damp, but shining, and there was a glow about them. Carolyn tried to put up a casual front when she saw her son, and said, "Hi, Charlie; have you been having a good time?”
It was the wrong question, and she knew it immediately. I damned near strangled to keep from laughing out loud, and Charlie stood frozen for a second, before breaking panic-stricken for the back door and jabbering about calling his sister for supper.
Betty put her arm around Carolyn's narrow waist. "Don't be so on guard, dear. Everything will work out beautifully, I'm sure. Remember our little talk. Now, let's see what you brought to the potluck.”
A fine, eager cunt, I thought; a sleek, lithe ass and a pair of exceptional little tits, I thought, to say nothing of a mouth that could drain the final droplets of semen from a man's balls. But if I said any of that, it would have destroyed the precarious balance we were all trying to keep, and they might have chased me the hell out. I left them there and went into the living room, where I got the FM station on the radio and some pretty good music. When I sat down to stretch my legs and rest my overworked back, Kim Jessup came bouncing into the room, her ponytail flying.
When she slid to a stop before me, Kim was chattering about how much she dug this horse of ours, or that one, but I wasn't really listening; I was looking closely—very closely—at the little girl for the first time. Sure, I'd sneaked a glance or two at the seat of her tight jeans before, especially when she was cantering her gelding and was into that sensuous, rocking motion that has the same gentle precision of screwing. Now I took a good look and saw that Kim was just on the verge of budding into something lovely.
She had these teensy breasts, more nipple than mound, but cute and saucy; she had sorrel-colored hair, not quite red and not quite polished mahogany, and I’d swear that her eyes were such a dark blue they were almost purple. Kim was small all over, standing about four-ten without her boots, and she wouldn't carry more than about eighty pounds of weight. But there was a delicate shaping to her nearly thin legs, and a symmetrical quality to the design of her childish ass. Staring at the girl, my eyes focused naturally in the crotch of her jeans, where I could just make out a pouting, diminutive mound pushing itself piquantly forward with the tilting of her hips.
Realizing, that she'd stopped talking, I said, "Kim, you can use any horse on the place, any time you want." And use me for your first stud, I thought; us my big, hard prick between those little-girl legs and worked up into your mini-pussy so you can rock on it as you do on a saddle. I decided then that I was going to fuck this kid, gentling her like an unbroken colt, and my mouth went wet with the idea of eating hungrily into that luscious little cunt.
I think she sensed my interest, because when she said, "oh, thank you, Mr. Barnett," and skipped over to loss my cheek, she kind of accidentally passed her lips over my mouth instead. Her mouth was fleet and girlish, but with a hint of banked flames beneath it. Slapping back again, Kim giggled, but there was a flush staining her cheeks, and she tossed her head.
Then it was supper, with everybody but Kim a little awkward, and I noticed that my wife was filling the girl's wine glass, as if Kim had the stuff every day. I knew the kid would hit the sack early, then; she'd be a bit smashed, and the night would be before the rest of us.
Somehow we got through the meal without screwing up, although it seemed that Charlie's face and his mother's went red by turns. Betty had the coolest head of all, and shooed us from the kitchen while she stuffed dishes into the washer and tidied up. In only a few minutes, Kim said she was pooped and would we mind if she went to bed. We didn't mind worth a damn, but I watched her tidy little ass disappear with a twinge of regret, and promised myself—soon, soon.
Betty came in to dim the lights, to steer Charlie over to the love seat with her, while Carolyn and I were left to the couch. The music throbbed around us, and there was only a golden smear of light in the room, our faces shadowed and the wine racing in our veins. But our mounting excitement was even more heady, and I made the first move by drawing Carolyn's head to my shoulder and sliding one arm around her svelte waist, resting my hand ever so lightly upon her upper thigh.
As I kissed her resisting lips, I felt her stiffen against me, and broke the kiss to whisper in her ear. "Would you feel better if we made it in the bedroom?”
She glanced at the dim figures in the love seat, where I could see a flash of my wife's white thigh and hear rustlings. "I—I think so," Carolyn hissed back, so I took her by the hand and helped her to her feet. She pulled back, but I led her over to Charlie and Betty.
The kid was anxious, both his hands plunged into my wife's dress to cup her heavy breasts, and he looked up as we stood over him. I said, Ton guys have fun in here. Carolyn wants to use the bed.”
"All right," Betty said, disappointment in her sultry voice, and the boy whispered, "Ah—Mon; you have f-fun, too.”
Carolyn couldn't answer, and I felt her shaking against me as we went into the bedroom. She stood very still as I stripped away her blouse and bra, while I kneeled to take off her boots and peel down her Levi's. Via the bed lamp, I could see her buttocks quivering when I worked her panties off and touched her gently upon the opulently haired pussy.
At the bed, moving robot-like, she said, "He—he had his hands on her tits, and Betty's skirt was way up.”
"And in a very little while, he'll have her on the floor, where he can have room to mount her properly," I said. "Pretend-time is over, darling. Your son is just about to fuck my wife, and I'm going to fuck you.”
"Charlie knows that, too," she breathed. "He knows that his mother is in here getting undressed, that a man will put a hard cock into her pussy and pump semen into it. My son—”
"Is busy as hell right now," I said, pushing Carolyn down onto the bed and rolling her over onto her belly. She was limp, a manikin without voluntary movement, accepting mine. I climbed out of my clothes with my prick stiffening, lifting its polished head eagerly. This lovely, confused woman needed turning on, so she would be more lover than protective mother. Maybe she could be turned into a fucking mother, in the literal sense, and I wondered why the phrase was always mother fucker, and not son fucker.
Then I was completely engrossed in the sight of Carolyn stretched long and lean upon my bed, in the same spot where I had fucked my own wife so many times, where Betty had squirmed with her young lover's cock in her clasping pussy, where I had put the meat to her while she went down on Charlie's prick.
My eyes locked onto the long, sweeping curve of the woman's back, following it down to the fabulously shaped cheeks of her ass, pressed together now so that I could only make out the faintest wisp of bronze hair peeping from the depths of the beguiling crack. She lay quietly, her cheek pillowed upon one arm, her other arm spread at right angles to that lithe body. I crawled over on top of her, straddling her at the thighs and brushing the hairy sack of my balls against her warm, exceptionally smooth skin.
Then I caressed her back, her buttocks, admiring them as I used the heels of my hands to- press them tightly together. Bending, I let go of her ass and angled the head of my cock down into her cleft, teasing the spongy knob up and down there. Carolyn trembled, her face hidden by the swirling of her golden hair, and I lay down atop her body, snuggling the length of my hard prick into the crack of her exquisitely modeled ass to move it sensuously back and forth. Most of my weight was supported by my knees and elbows, but still I pressed down upon that delightful flesh, mock-screwing her in the ass, stimulating us both until Carolyn started to wiggle in response.
This was new to both of us, I knew, and became wildly exciting. She was passive now, and I was the dominant male, covering her, pinning her down to the bed and making her helpless. But she lifted her ass to me, hunching back and up with erotic squirmings. I arched my back and raised some weight from her, and Carolyn spread her thighs. Why not, I thought—but knew it would be very tight, maybe too small, perhaps painful to her.
Unless she was lubricated, I decided, and dropped my cockhead down a few inches, so that it found the juicy hotness of her vulva. Biting into the pillow, she muttered no, no—the other way, but I continued to work my bulb into her slippery labia, nudging into those humid lips until they gave me room to enter. I only prodded the head into her sizzling body, sliding it around inside the neck of her vagina, and not allowing it to slide any deeper. "What I wanted was her cunt oils, a slickness, a grease that would help me get into her ass. Backing my knob out of her, I used my fingers to delve into her snatch, and brought forth more slidy foam.
I smeared "this into the tight little knob of her asshole, my entire body going taut now, keen to sample something I'd never known. She was shaking, too, and I hoped there was enough juice on my cockhead and against her puckered entrance to help. I lifted my glans and set it into the cleft of Carolyn's delectable ass, lifting my upper body from hers and letting her come to hands and knees.
"Do it!" she gasped. "Stick it in me, Rich—I won't care if it hurts.”
Oh, she was tight; it was like struggling to force my prick into the neck of a bottle, but slowly, straining, barely moving, the tip worked itself into her hole. Carolyn pushed back against it, demanding that her tube be filled with my meat, rolling her tail to assist me get it inside her, all her lovely flesh crying out for this new kind of gratification.
I pushed harder, and she panted with me, her lean thighs veed wide, her hands braced against the bed, forgetting her son making it in the other room with my wife, all other thoughts wiped from her mind in her anxiety to take a cock in this manner. I felt the snug ring give, felt it stretch a bit, and suddenly my cockhead slipped inside her tube, the shaft following easily then, gliding into a delicious, hot tightness that made me quiver from head to toe, that tensed every muscle of my body, including my prick. Locked into her narrow hose, the head seemed to expand, and I had a flash of sogs hanging up. But I was in her, in her asshole, and my balls came up to touch into her down hanging pubic hair.
Carolyn shivered and moaned, rocking gently to me, rolling that sweet ass into my crotch, and I held to her waist, starting to carefully work my tightly clenched shaft back and forth inside her tube. Moving sensuously, relishing every contraction of this previously secret hole, I reached around her hips with both hands, feeling into her spread thighs, into the steamy furring of her mound. Probing tenderly, I got a finger into her slickened cunt lips, and she shook violently as she was then also wiggling her clitoris against it.
Fucking her slowly, I watched her polished ass cheeks heaving, and saw the ripples of ecstasy that were racing up and down her bridged body. Carolyn's golden cascade of hair was swinging like a metronome, caught up in our rhythm, and the bed squeaked a soft background to the erotic beat. Our bodies were welded together, joined by flesh within flesh, surging and giving, wriggling and taking, fucking blissfully and thrillingly, sliding and slipping, hard meat cupped by soft meat.
It was terrific, this overpowering sensation that was building swiftly up within my balls, and the good feelings tingled behind my knees as I finger-fucked Carolyn's shaggy pussy, as I screwed her virginal asshole. The warmth spread up inside my thighs and concentrated at the base of my gently pistoning cock, growing hotter there as the woman's narrow hose clamped more insistently upon my shaft, as her cunt fluctuated wildly around my buried finger.
"G-going to explode!" Carolyn hissed. "Oh lord, I feel like I'm about to come in two places at one time—oohh! Ahh, darling, fuck me—fuck me until I blow up!”
My heart beating insanely, I plunged my throbbing cockhead deep into her bowels, grinding it there as it flexed and pulsed, and the jet of pressured semen came boiling up through the embedded shaft to shower into Carolyn's shuddering body. She was hot and the fluid was hot, and she arched her ass up straining against my taut groin when she came with me. Thick and bubbling, rich and slippery, my come filled her tight hole, loosening it, making it easier for the jerky, spasming thrusts I kept making into her marvelous flesh.
Her entire body went rigid in the throes of her tremendous orgasm, and Carolyn sobbed in rapture, the ring of her asshole tightening and letting go, clamping down and loosening in turn. Her pussy clung greedily to my finger, its oily juices seeping and the velvet membranes caressing. Locked into place, we trembled there upon my bed, my wife's bed, while in the next room, Betty and this beautiful woman's horny son were screwing each other.
Remembering them, knowing that Carolyn Jessup had to be moved yet another stage along her sensuous journey to complete freedom, I gently backed my oozing cockhead from the viselike grip of her tube, but it didn't come out leaking; her puckered ring wiped off any residual semen and retained the stuff inside her hole. With a deep sigh, she sagged forward onto the bed as I leaned back upon my haunches, going flat and still panting.
What a fabulous lay she was, how torrid and receptive to change and experiment and new ideas. This woman's lovely body was adorable, compelling, and I was truly appreciative of its carnal pleasures.
Whispering into her pillow, Carolyn said, "Rich, my darling, my lover, my stallion. You've made so many of my dreams come true. When you crawled up on top of me and stroked your lovely prick into the crack of my ass, I even forgot Charlie and Kim and Betty. I couldn't think of anything but wanting you to stick it up me from behind, to feel that nice, stiff meat moving in me, where none had ever been before. Am I a bad woman for wanting that? Am I weird or perverted, Rich?”
"No way," I answered, lying down beside her. "Whatever makes you happy, remember? If you don't hurt anyone eke, nothing you can do for yourself is bad, or wrong.”
Slowly, she turned over, one arm across her eyes now, still hiding herself from something. "What did Charlie ask you, in the kitchen—about me, about us?”
“If we made it," I answered. “I told him what a fantastic fuck you are, what an enchanted pussy you have. But he's already imagined all that, and more. He couldn't stand still, he was so jumpy, so damned eager to get at you. I think your son has been dreaming of getting between his mother's long, lovely legs for some time now. It's a good thing he had my wife available, or he might have gone off in his jeans. Listen, Carolyn—your boy is as glad that I'm screwing you as I was to discover he was fucking Betty. He's happy for you, for me. But of course, he wants to love you himself, to have you accept him as a man with a hard cock, to know the feel of his mother's cunt surging around it.”
I waited then, and after awhile, she murmured, "Yes; yes, damnit. I want to know him that way, too. I confess it, admit it—I'm horny to fuck my own son.”