Uncle Does It Best

At first I had no intention whatsoever of continuing my affair with my niece Elizabeth. Not only was there a certain degree of guilt attached, but the logistics of the thing presented me with a great many problems and complications. I mean, my wife Catherine is no fool and staying out night after night would certainly have made her suspicious.

And yet, despite my reluctance, I found that I just couldn't keep my hands off Elizabeth's plump little body. At night, after Catherine had fallen asleep, I would sneak out of our bedroom and Liz and I would meet in the corridor, where our bodies would join in sexual ecstasy. On these occasions, she would be clad in a flimsy nightdress, nothing on underneath, and after checking to make sure that we were not being watched, I would lift this loose garment up over her belly, thrust my knees between her milky white thighs, and then thrust my shaft into the satiny sheath of her silky cunt It always felt good working it inside of her, pushing it up, reaming the cavity open, exploring its velvety interior. She had some magical power over me, this niece of mine, and regardless of my physical condition, regardless of whether or not I had previously had sex that evening with my wife Catherine, the sight of her lush, ripe body would always make me hard, always make me excited for yet another thrilling fuck.

Our rendezvous, however, were not merely confined to these secret nighttime meetings. At least three to four times a week she would wait for me in the parking lot behind my office and we'd drive out to the country or to some faraway motel where we would spend long, thrilling hours in each other's embrace. Her mouth was always hungry for cock. Her hands always eager to please. Her cunt and her ass always raised high and spread open for a good frigging.

You're probably wondering about my wife, Catherine. Did she suspect what was going on? Well, that's the strangest part of this whole matter. When I called from the office, she was always understanding.

"I'm not angry darling," she would say. "You've got a very important position and you've got to work late. It's only natural."

She never checked up on me, never caused a scene, never so much as mentioned my frequent absences from home. Not only that, but she also never seemed to connect the significance of the fact that Elizabeth had also started to come home quite late, usually five or ten minutes after me. This very docile attitude on her part, and a certain nervousness that I seemed to detect in her lately, caused me to become very suspicious. Something was going on. I was sure of that.

Why, it was not only my wife who suddenly started to appear quite distraught in my presence, but my son Brian as well. Generally Brian was a very cheerful, happy-go-lucky type of adolescent. Now, however, he was beginning to act quite morose, quite sad and depressed. The change was first noticed by me a few days after the lad's fifteenth birthday. There had been a party for him which I had been unable to attend as a result of my engagement with Elizabeth, but the next morning when I entered his room to hand him my present, the change in character was quite apparent. His eyes shifted away from mine, as though he was ashamed of something, his voice was low and quavering, his entire demeanor suggested that there was something terribly wrong.

At first I thought it was just one of those things, that the realization that he was fifteen, that he was no longer a child was the cause of it. He'd soon get over it, I was sure. Well, the days dragged into weeks and I saw no change. Whenever he was with me, he seemed somehow afraid of something.

Well, about three weeks had passed since his fifteenth birthday and Catherine and I were alone in the house. It was one of those rainy Saturday afternoons, just perfect for sitting back and reading a good book. Elizabeth, who had made friends with some of the girls in the neighborhood, was off somewhere having a good time. Brian was similarly occupied and so there was no one to disturb the tranquility of the afternoon.

I was seated in the living room, and Catherine was sitting opposite me fidgeting somewhat nervously with the newspaper. From time to time she looked up as though there was something on her mind, but then she turned back and pretended to be reading.

It was about two thirty that afternoon when she finally summoned up the courage to speak, and it was then that the whole sordid truth came out. Catherine, it turned out, had not been suspicious of me, had not questioned my activities because she herself had been engaged in an infidelity of her own, one that was even more depraved than mine.

"Oh Simon," she whispered. "I can't keep it in any longer. I've got to tell you everything."

Then, between sobs, the entire story came out: "It all started," she began, "on the night of Brian's fifteenth birthday...."

It had all started quite innocently. It was a warm Wednesday evening and the house was full of people who had come over to celebrate with Brian. Friends, neighbors, relatives ... many, many people had dropped by to wish the boy the heartiest congratulations. Around ten thirty the last of them had left and Brian and his mother Catherine were alone in the house again.

Because it was a very warm evening, she was very scantily clad in a purple housedress and a pair of slippers. Underneath she wore one of those thin tricot brassieres and a similarly flimsy pair of panties. Earlier, she and Brian had danced to some very slow music and it was perhaps then that the whole thing had started. You see, without really meaning to or realizing what she was doing, Catherine pressed her plump, ripe body against her son's chest and legs. The warmth of her flesh had served to arouse him to nearly a feverish pitch. He was wearing jeans and almost against his will, his young penis began to stiffen and grow, to thicken and stiffen till the bloom of manhood was upon it.

Now, with everyone out of the house but his lovely, sexy mother, Brian was beginning to recall the pleasure that he had felt when her body leaned against his. It was abnormal, he realized, depraved and incestuous to think in such a way. And yet, despite his best intentions, he could not change the way he felt

"Darling," his mother now called to the lad, "would you mind helping me clean up the house? Your father will be home late tonight and it would be terrible if he found the place in a mess."

As they straightened out the living room, Brian's desire became even more intense, more lustful. Once, for instance, his mother had to bend over to pick up a paper cup that had rolled under the couch. The housedress that she was wearing went up as she did so and Brian, who was in the alcove diagonally across from the couch could not help getting a clear view. For the first time he was able to see between his mummy's legs. For the first time he was able to see all the way up to the full, swollen mound of her womanly pubis. The panties that she was wearing were so thin, so transparent that they hid nothing at all, that they revealed the glorious beauty of her naked ass, of her raw, voluptuous cunny in a most spectacular manner. Again, for the second time that evening, he felt a boner creeping up his jeans.

Catherine, meanwhile, was down on all fours, her legs spread wide apart, her knees digging into the green pile carpeting. She could feel the wind of the air conditioner climbing between her legs and it exhilarated her in a marvelous way. When her husband Simon got home later that evening, she would be waiting for his massive prick. Of late he had not displayed the customary ardor toward her that she had come to expect. Was he seeing someone else? Perhaps he was doing it to Elizabeth in his spare time? Come to think of it, Elizabeth had been conspicuous by her absence this evening and she had been coming home late quite often the past week or so. Simon and Elizabeth ... was it possible? Just as she was about to draw some sort of conclusion, her head turned to the side and she was able to see Brian's reflection in a mirror that hung on one of the walls. Why, the naughty boy was peeking under her dress. The little bugger was looking at her plump ass, was licking his lips at the sight of her blooming pussy. She looked lower down and she could see a thickness in his jeans. He was getting a hard-on, a boner.

Now she could recall the thrill that she had felt earlier when the two of them had danced together. It had been a momentary spark, but intense nevertheless. She remembered quite vividly the tightness of his arm around her waist, the heat of his loins next to her thighs, the tickle of his fingers as they strayed for a moment down the small of her back and onto the slope of her ass. She had thought nothing of it at the time, but now it came back to her like the splash of the roaring surf.

Oh yes ... there was one more thing that she recalled. One naughty little thing. They had danced, their hips pressed together, their loins locked in a very sexy embrace. Suddenly she felt something against her crotch. At first she had thought it to be a pair of keys or a flashlight or some hard object that he kept in his pocket. It was only after a moment of thought that the truth dawned upon her. She was turning the boy on. She was giving his cock a thrill. She was making it hard and ripe for fucking.

At once she had been attracted and repulsed by what she had done. This was ... well, the simple name for it was incest Still, despite her inhibitions, she had been really turned on, really wild with excitement. In fact, she could now recall how her muff began to lather, how the lips of her pussy had begun to slide hotly together, how the satiny sheath of her cunt had tightened to stimulate the movements of a thrusting prick.

The very same thing was happening at this very moment as she was squatting on all fours, her haunches up in the air, her skirts raised, her lush bottom exposed to the yearning eyes of her boy Brian. Tonight he had turned fifteen; tonight he had become a man. As of yet she had not given him his present because she had been unable to think of a gift that was suitable for the occasion. The lad seemed to have everything that he needed.

Then she thought about the one thing that no boy could resist of the one thing that haunted every teenager from the moment he passed his puberty. That's what he probably wanted more than anything in the whole world, a sweet cut of succulent pussy. She was certain that he had never had any as of yet. Sure, he had probably made out with some of the girls at school, had probably felt up their boobs and their tight little bottoms. But she was sure that they had let him wander no further. So it was probably in his dreams that he had felt pussy, it was probably only in his fantasies that he had experienced the thrill of a hot love hole.

"Darling," Catherine suddenly whispered. "What are you looking at?"

"Looking...." the boy mumbled. "I'm not looking at anything."

"Don't he to me, my sweet little darling. Your mother can see your reflection in the mirror. She can see how you're blushing right now, how your face is turning red because you think that you have something to be ashamed of."

"I ... I was looking at the clock," the boy whispered. "It's kind of late and I have to get up very early because the fellas are going to have a baseball game."

"You're not a very clever liar, my dear. You're probably going to go up to your room and jerk off. Isn't that what young boys do when they're horny? They open up their flies, pull out their big pricks and start to massage the hot meat. Isn't that what you do every night before you go to sleep?"

"Mom, don't talk like that"

"But it's the truth."

There was a smile on Catherine's lips as she turned around and sat down on the floor, her legs spread deliberately apart This time it was not due to negligence that her housedress was rolled up above her plump thighs. This time she had deliberately yanked the purple skirt up to her waist so that she was completely naked from her belly down-except of course, for the flimsy undergarments that she was wearing. These thin summer panties were made of a see-through material and the thick, black bush of her furry cunt was quite evident The reinforced fabric at the very base, where the lips of her cunny were sliding hotly against one another, was beginning to get damp, was beginning to show the first traces of womanly passion.

"Mommy," Brian whispered. "You're letting me see it You're letting me look at it."

"At what?" Catherine asked "What is it that I'm letting you look at, my big hunk of a son?"

"At your...." Brian was beginning to stammer. "At your love hole. You're letting me look at your hot wet pussy. I've always wondered what it looked like, always wondered what it would be like to see it and touch it and taste it"

"What about your mousy girlfriend Felice? Hasn't she ever let you look at her puss?"

"No, she's too much afraid."

"Don't you make out with her?"

"Yes, we make out all the time," Brian whispered. "She lets me tongue loss her and stuff like that. She once even let me slide my hands onto her bare ass, but only for a brief moment She didn't want things to get out of control. She says that she's going to be a virgin till the day that she gets married."

"How terrible for her," Catherine replied. "The silly little bitch. I'll bet that you jerk off thinking about pussy. I'll bet that you have some of those terrible magazines hidden away somewhere in your room. I'll bet that you look at them and pretend that the girls in those pictures are there in real life with you. I'll bet you dream about their hot tongues lashing out against your prick, about their hot lips sucking away at you, about their wet cunts tearing you to pieces."

Catherine, ordinarily quite modest in her behavior, suddenly felt as though she had been possessed by some devilish power. Surely it was not she was was uttering such terrible things. Surely she was not doing this of her own free will. Surely she was not exposing her muff to her son by her own volition.

And yet, she knew that she could not blame some outside force, that it was mere rationalization to pretend that she was possessed by some demonic power. It was her own sexual lust that was responsible for what she was doing. The boy had made her horny, had excited her. feminine passions. Unless Simon came home suddenly to interrupt this little scenario, there was no question in her mind as to how it would be consummated.

But Simon was out somewhere else, banging Elizabeth in a neat little hotel room in Winsor Falls, about twelve miles away. At that very moment, he had one finger shoved up his niece's ass and another finger inside of her young, hairless love mound. His wife and his son were the furthest thing from his mind.

"Do you want me to roll down my panties, darling Brian," Catherine suddenly asked. "This way you'll really be able to get a good look at my muff."

"Mother, is this right?"

"Don't ask silly questions. Who will know?"

"We will."

"That's right-only the two of us will knew what happened. As long as we enjoy it, then we have nothing to be worried about. Isn't that true?"

"Yes mother, that's right," Brian replied, realizing that he had just crossed the threshold and that from now on there could be no turning back for him as there could be no turning back for Catherine. He breathed in deeply, his muscles tensing, his fingers aching with a nervous kind of excitement. He could feel his straining prick inside his tight jeans. It was sliding up and down like a stallion trying to break out of its corral. The knob at the top was raw and red and burning like a roman candle. Could he go through with it? Could he permit himself the incredible joy of having sex with his lovely mother? He stared down at the crotch of her panties for a second and saw the flaming mouth of her cunt, the juicy labial folds at the gates of her wet vaginal orifice. This was the stuff that his dreams were made of. Not that he had ever consciously thought of his mother's cunt But what different did it make that it belonged to her? A cunt was a cunt, and he could see that this one was glorious to behold, a deep seething mouth that seemed to bubble with passion like a cauldron of steamy soup.

"Oh Mother," he suddenly whispered. "Yes, why don't you do it."

"What?" she teased. "What is it that you wish me to do?"

"Take off those smelly bloomers of yours. Take them off so that I may behold the splendor of your delightful cunny for the first time."

"My darling son, your wish is my command," she whispered, getting up off the carpet. The purple housedress that she was wearing was buttoned down the front. It swelled beautifully where her mammoth breasts jutted out and there was a slight roundness at her belly.

At the line where her legs met her torso, the housedress was covered with creases and it was this precise point that held Brian's fascination for it was here that the sacred nest of his mother s sexuality lay hidden. He had seen it for a second before and soon he would have the pleasure of gazing at it again, of feasting his ravenous eyes on its wondrous and splendid beauty.

"Are you going to take off the dress?" Brian heard himself whispering.

"Yes, that's precisely what I plan to do."

"Then you're going to pull down your panties and take off your brassiere."

"Yes, of course my darling."

"And you will let me look on your plump little titties."

"You will not only look, my dear son, but you will also have the pleasure of sucking on them, of kissing them the way you used to when you were yet a little boy. I used to suckle you, my darling, and I shall suckle you again on my plump little breasts."

"And your cunt???" Brian stammered. "You will permit me to feast upon it? You will permit my hands to touch it and my mouth to kiss it and my prick to pound it?"

"Yes, of course, my lovely darling son." Catherine replied. "You will fuck me to your heart's delight. You will do to me whatsoever you wish, whatsoever your fancy leads to. This evening of pleasure shall be my birthday gift to you."

Their eyes met for one long, loving glance and then Catherine proceeded to undress while her son watched from the alcove that he was still standing in. She undid the top button of her housedress, her fingers moving dexterously across the womanly length of her lush body. Her breasts, even sheathed in the brassiere that was covering them, were marvelous to behold. They were big and plump and ripe to the eye. The thin tricot bra could not hide the shape of the nipple underneath which had stiffened even as her son's prick had stiffened before. Both nipples were hard as summer cherries, delightful little organs that seemed almost to burst through the fabric that tried to keep them contained.

Her fingers were nimble as they plucked open each of the little purple buttons that drew the dress around her body. Brian's eyes seemed to pop as he saw how young and voluptuous his mother's body still was. The swell of her belly reeked of sexuality. The width of her hips and curve of her legs was a thing of marvelous wonderment. He suddenly thought of Felice, the girl that he dated steadily. She was a skinny, scrawny thing when compared to this bundle of female passion that was even now being revealed to his eager eyes. Yes, what he was doing was right. What was the point, after all, in repressing his desires, of refusing to indulge his sexual appetite? Who would know that he had fucked his mother or that she had fucked her son? It would be a secret that each would have, a secret that neither would reveal.

Catherine had finally ripped open all twelve purple buttons and now the housedress was flapping at her sides, the front of her body completely naked except for the flimsy undergarments that she was wearing. She let the dress slide off her sleeves, down her arms and finally off her body, falling in a neat little bundle around her feet.

"Now the rest," Brian whispered. "The panties and bra ... will you please take them off, mother, so that there is nothing to hide your beautiful cunt and your glorious tits from my eyes."

"Not yet," Catherine whispered. "You have seen enough of me for now and as of yet I have seen nothing of you. Do you imagine that you're the only one who is thrilled by the sight of naked flesh? I too have that desire. Even now I can feel my heart pound in my chest Even now my clitty is throbbing the way it does when a man's hand is upon it. Even now my little nipples grow hard and plump at the thought of gazing at that big hunk of meat that you've got hidden inside of those pants."

Brian didn't know why, but he found himself suddenly blushing, his cheeks turning red, his forehead becoming covered with beads of perspiration. Should he open up his pants and let Mom have a look at his massive prick. There was something inside him that shouted against this course of action. Call it conscience, call it a sense of ethics, call it whatever you will-it was a little voice that told him that he was doing wrong, that if he didn't turn back soon, there would be no turning back at all.

"Go on, my big boy," Catherine panted hotly, stroking herself through her panties even as the words came biting out of her mouth. "Go on, Brian, open your fly and let me have a look at that big cock of yours."

Brian suddenly lowered his head down to the carpeted floor, his longish brown hair falling against the side of his face and almost down to his neck. He was fifteen, he thought, and he'd still never had a good piece of pussy. He had just turned fifteen, and his hands had not yet dipped into the deep pool of a woman's sexuality. The only gratification he had so far received had been mastubatory in nature. He had rubbed that cock of his on countless nights, had beaten his meat till the cream spurted in huge gobs inside of his fist Only he knew how bad it made him feel that he had to resort to self manipulation for his erotic needs. There were stories all over school about guys two and three years younger than him who were making it steady, who were fucking different girls practically every single night of the week. He had always envied those fellows, had always felt weak and small because they could succeed where he could not. What was it that made them so attractive to the opposite sex? Certainly it wasn't only their looks. After all, he, Brian, was also quite handsome by any standards. No, what made them so good at the game of love was their bravado, the willingness to gamble, to take chances, to take that first step toward gratification.

He, on the other hand, had always been shy and bashful, had always backed away from dangerous situations even as he was trying to back away now. He vacillated too much. He never seemed certain of himself, of what he wanted out of life and it was perhaps that reason that more than anything else accounted for his poor sex record.

Well now was the time to change all that the time to get back on the track, back on the road and headed in the direction that he wanted to go. So Mom wanted to have a look at his prick. Well he's show it to her without any further ado. He'd let her see his massive organ, that thick piece of cock meat He'd let her do more than just look at it First he'd make her take it in her hands. He'd make her caress it softly, and then he would make her open her mouth and tongue it. Yes, he'd put his big prick right between her lips and he'd make her suck on it for a while. Afterwards, he'd push it between her legs and into that big, womanly hole of hers, into that deep, wet vaginal orifice.

"You want to see it, Mom?" Brian suddenly asked, as though he was looking for some assurance that what he was about to do would not be spurned. "You still want to see my dong?"

"Yes," she moaned. "I want to see your big dong."

Brian grabbed the nib of his zipper with his thumb and forefinger. He tugged at it gently and there was a loud crackling sound that suddenly filled the air. The metal teeth came apart one by one till all that remained was a big, gaping black hole in the crotch of his blue jeans. He looked down for a minute even as Catherine's eyes stared at him. Should he reach inside and pull the thing out? Well, before yet another debate could develop inside of him, nature took her course. The big, swollen organ slithered out of his pants even as a snake would slither out from under a pile of rocks. It just popped out straight as an arrow, an enormous protrusion pointing obscenely in the direction of his mother.

When Catherine saw it for the first time, when her eyes first gazed on her body's monstrosity, she began to heave and tremble violently with maddening desire. Could this be true? Could Brian possibly be so big down there? Could his cock possibly be so thick and plump, such a magnificent specimen of male sexuality? God, it was like looking at a man, not a mere boy. He was hung, to use the vernacular, really well hung. Her mouth began to water, her breasts began to quiver with desire, her slash of a red cunt began to slaver eagerly with wet syrups, to literally become sopping wet with the juices of a woman's sexual passions.

"My lovely boy," she whispered, squeezing the cock head softly in her fist. "This big tool of yours will feel good when it's sliding in and out of your mom's wet pussy."

"Then you will let me do it to you?" Brian asked nervously. "You will let me fuck your cunt and bugger your sweet ass?"

"Of course, my lovely son," Catherine replied as though in a trance. "You can fuck me to your heart's delight If buggering my soft ass is what pleases you, then you may do that as well, just so long as you do not deny me the pleasure of feeling your hard dick lodged inside of my pussy. Now that I have seen how big and hard it is, I don't think that I can go on any longer without feeling it inside my body."

"And inside your mouth," Brian whispered. "You will also take it inside of your mouth. Do you ever take Dad's cock inside of your mouth?" the boy suddenly asked. "Be truthful with me. Have you ever sucked his dick?"

Why was the boy tormenting her so with his silly questions? Her hand was still firmly grasped around the boy's exposed tool, holding on to it as though she was holding on to life itself. It was so warm, like a glowing firebrand, thickly veined and swollen with hot passion. She rubbed it for a second and then reached up to the clasp of his jeans which she pulled open. Then, with one quick motion she pulled the tight trousers down her son's young, perfectly shaped limbs. He was wearing sneakers, which she unlaced and pulled off and before another moment had passed she was holding onto the elastic waistband of his white jockey shorts.

"You're so beautiful," she whispered as she rolled them over his buttocks, and down his legs. "You're such a beautiful young boy with a beautiful young dick."

"Who's more beautiful, me or Dad?" Brian asked, getting some sort of obscene kick out of bringing his father into the conversation, out of making comparisons between the two of them. "Cmon Mom, you've got to be honest with me."

"You're both beautiful." Catherine replied, "You in a boyish sort of way and he in a different manner. I find both of you quite desirable."

"If you had the chance to have both of us here, doing it to you, would you take it?"

"What do you mean?" Catherine asked, though she understood quite well what Brian was driving at.

"You know," the boy explained. "How would you like it if both of us were here fucking you? How would you feel if Dad and I were to make a sandwich out of your hot body, with me drilling my dick up your ass while he was screwing your snatch?"

Catherine didn't know why, but she was suddenly trembling all over as though a scalding fever had taken possession of her body. The words that Brian had just uttered were thrilling in every way. If only they could come true, she thought. If only Simon and Brian were here at this very moment. She would get down on her knees and take both of their dicks in her mouth. She'd suck on them till they were both shooting cream, till both of their long, hard cocks were spurting thick gobs of white semen, God, how she liked the taste of that stuff on her lips. It was like life itself to her, like the ambrosia of the gods.

Suddenly she reached down with her long, white fingers and began to massage Brian's muscled loins. He was built like a Greek god, so perfectly shaped, so ruggedly strong and yet so boyishly innocent at the very same time. That was perhaps what appealed to her more than anything. She was one hundred percent sure that he was still a virgin, that he had still not touched naked pussy, that his young, virile dick had not yet had the pleasure of being sucked into a wet love hole. She would be the first for him, and despite the fact that he was her son, she was thrilled by this realization.

She continued to rub his thighs, to massage him between his legs, to gently squeeze his young, hard balls with her fingers and palms, applying just the right amount of pressure to make the boy quiver with desire. He was standing in the center of the room by now, completely naked, his hands stupidly swinging at his sides while his mother continued her erotic manipulations.

How was it that she knew just how to stroke him, just how much friction to apply to his mighty organ? It's funny, but he had never thought of his mother as a sexual creature, had never thought of her as a mere human being possessing mortal lusts and desires. And yet now, for perhaps the first time, all of his illusions were being shattered. Here she was, her fingers massaging his grand organ, her smooth white palms applying the most delicate and yet the most thrilling pressure that his penis had ever encountered. Surely she was much experienced at the art of lovemaking. Surely she reveled in it, became excited throughout her being by the entire sexual act. Suddenly he wondered how often she and Dad fucked one another. Did she get it on the side as well? What about vibrators? Did she use them when a man was not available? These and many other queries were floating around in Brian's head as his mother continued her thrilling manipulations.

By now she had practically worked herself to a feverish frenzy and her eyes were bulging wildly in her head. Her housedress had slipped off of her and she was wearing but a bra and flimsy panties, the thick curls of black pubic hair quite apparent as they formed a bulge near her crotch. The room had become filled with her spicy sex odor, an aroma that acted like heady wine when Brian first inhaled it. He suddenly felt as though he was spinning around, as though he had suddenly been transported to another dimension, to another world.

"Oh Mom," he whispered. "You rub my cock so nicely."

"Has any girl ever given you a better hand job?" she asked, continuing with her sensual strokes.

"Don't tease me," the boy whispered. "You know perfectly well that the only hands that so far have touched this cock of mine were my own."

"You liked jerking off, didn't you?" Catherine asked. "I'll bet that you used to do it every night."

"Yes," the boy cried as the pressure in his loins grew more and more intense. "I loved jerking off."

"Who did you dream of?" she asked.

"Of Felice," Brian whispered. "I would dream of her big ass and her juicy titties. I would pretend that it was her hands that were doing the jerking, that it was her hands that were massaging my balls."

"Did you ever dream of me during those times? Did you ever wish that it was my hands, that it. was my mouth, that it was my cunt that you were getting so much pleasure from? Tell the truth, my darling boy."

"Oh Mom, yes," Brian exclaimed. "Your hands, your tits, your cunt...." His voice trailed off to a low hum, to a thrilling moan because as he had been talking, his mother's mouth had begun to descend across his upright body, her lips first kissing him on his face, on his cheeks, on the cleft of his smooth chin. She grabbed his earlobe with her teeth and bit on it deliciously, blowing hot gusts of breath into his ear.

Meanwhile Brian's hands had awakened and suddenly taken a more active role than before. There was nothing to be afraid of any longer, no reason to hold back. This body, though it belonged to his mother, was his to enjoy, to explore, to do with as he pleased.

The first thing that he wanted to touch was her ass. He didn't know why it held so much appeal for him, just that from the very beginning he had desired to paw it with his fingers. That's how it had all started, hadn't it? His mother had bent over to pick something up from under the sofa and in doing so had permitted him to take a long, loving glance under her skirt. The first thing that his eyes had seen at the time was the ample curve of her juicy buttocks. This was a woman's ass, big, round and robust. From the first he had wanted to fondle it. From the very beginning he had wanted to feel its warmth pulse through his fingers. It was like a dream come true when he slid his hands around her waist, to the small of her back and then down to the voluptuous warmth of her juicy bottom.

"Go on my boy, enjoy yourself the way I will soon be enjoying myself," Catherine suddenly whispered. "You've been wanting to feel that ass of mine for a long, long while. Now's your chance. Put your hands inside of my panties like a good little boy."

Brian obeyed, his fingers slithering in through the waistband of his mom's silky undergarments. The ass flesh that he now touched made him tremble with warm passion. So this was it finally. It was soft and smooth and full of erotic sensuality. The two cheeks were divided by a warm ravine that spread open eagerly when Brian's fingers dipped into it. He went all the way around with his hand, encountering first the moist hole of her anus. Should he or shouldn't he, Brian wondered.

"Go on," his mother suddenly whispered as though she was able to read the lad's thoughts. "I know that you want to frig my asshole. There's no reason why you shouldn't, providing that you don't forget about my warm, wet cunny. Frig my ass with one finger and then use the other on my pussy. Don't be afraid that it'll hurt because I can assure you that it won't be painful at all."

"Yes Mother," Brian whispered. "I shall do as you say."

And having said those words, he proceeded to jam his thumb into the juicy opening of his mother's ass. She was tight inside but he had no trouble whatsoever, getting all the way up. In fact, he even was able to work another finger into the crevice before she began to squirm in her panties. Her leg muscles had tightened and her face was still pressed to the boy's neck.

"Go on," she whispered into his ear. "Now for your mother's cunny."

"Yes, your cunny," Brian repeated, searching desperately for the fragrant sluice that lay hidden between her milky white thighs.

"That a boy," his mother whispered. "You're touching pussy for the first time in your life. How does it feel to touch your mom's snatch?"

"Delicious!!"

Catherine was twisting and grinding inside of her panties, in perfect rhythm with Brian's, as yet, inexperienced hands. She was pushing her muff right up against his palm, bending her knees to squat deliciously against it As she did so, the hole spread open like a deep, dank pool. Brian felt how incredibly slippery the thing was and he began to palpitate violently, his heart thumping in his chest like a racing motor. So this was cunt. This is what it felt like. God, was it possible that he had gone so long without any, that he had been deprived of it for practically fifteen years of his life?

"You like my cunny?" Catherine asked.

"Yes, my darling mother," Brian whispered, as he let his fingers trace the silky soft labial rim from one end to the other. Her furry beaver got in the way at times, so luxuriously thick was it But the hairs were soft and wet with syrup, long and smooth and incredibly thrilling.

"You're enjoying yourself my boy," Catherine whispered. "It's like you're in a candy shop for the first time and you want to try everything. I can still feel that thumb of yours jammed into my tight little asshole. Your other fingers are playing with the opening of my snatch, tickling the lips, massaging them softly and slowly."

"Yes Mom," Brian whispered. "I never knew that it could be like this, that any person's body could give me so much pleasure."

"Now, my lad," Catherine whispered. "It is time for you to give me pleasure."

"I shall do anything you command," Brian said. "Just give me the word."

"Take a finger and put it into the hole."

"Yes, it is time for that," Brian said simply. He pulled open the moist labial lips, and then like a diver on a cliff he paused for a breath of air, before finally taking the plunge inside. It was as though her body had suddenly received a jolt of current because Catherine began to gyrate madly, her swelling hips dancing to an erotic drumbeat. Brian went deep into her womb, deep into the plush, moist love hole, frigging away like mad.

"Oh God, God...." his mother cried, squirming on the floor like a worm on a hook. "It feels so good to have you fingerfucking me like that. Stick it way deep into the hole. Lower. Yes, God yes, with all your might. Ram it into me, my boy. Ram it into my snatch with all your might"

He didn't need any instructions because nature was now taking its course as his instinct drove him forward. He worked on that hole for what seemed to him nearly an hour, but was closer to twenty minutes, fingerfucking his mother with the technique of an expert. Never in her life had Catherine been so thrilled by a man's hand. Sometimes he pushed it in deep, other times he twirled it around in a circle, still other times he waved his fingers back and forth, swinging them like pendulums inside of her pussy. All the while she was getting juicier and juicier, her insides literally becoming flooded with gooey pussy juice, its fragrant aroma emanating like a cloud from the exposed snatch.

"Oh God," Catherine cried when she could hardly stand it any longer. "You're making me come, you naughty little boy. You're making your own sweet mother come." Her hands grabbed hold of his neck and she applied a delicate pressure forcing him downwards.

What was it that she wanted? Why was it that she was making him get down to his knees? Then he remembered about a practice that his friends had discussed. What was the name again. He closed his eyes and then he remembered. Cunnilingus!!! That's when a man eats a woman's pussy. Could this be what his mother had in mind?

"Mom," he asked. "Do you want me to ... P--"

He couldn't complete his sentence because she interrupted.

"Yes," she whispered. "That's exactly what I want you to do. Get down on your knees and show me how much you love that puss of mine. I want to come with your lips sucking my snatch."

She was still wearing her panties, and it was now time to pull off those fragrant undergarments. He grabbed them by the elastic waistband and gave one heave. Off they went and for the first time he was able to see the thing that till now he had only been caressing. A thick patch of fur grew in a triangle underneath her soft, succulent belly. The lips of her cunt were swollen red, sliding deliciously against one another as Brian gazed intently at them. So this was the thing that had felt so soft when he touched it. What a beautiful object it was, so delightful to behold, so wet and soft and hungry. So his mother wanted him to go down on it with his mouth. He'd never done this thing before so he would have to be careful. He didn't want to damage any of the merchandise, after all, by biting on it too hard. Brian smiled to himself and then bent his knees and was down on the floor, kneeling before his mother's cunt the way pagans of old used to kneel before some strange and beautiful idol.

"That's a good lad," Catherine whispered, her heart still thumping wildly in her chest. Just moments ago she had almost experienced an orgasm from her son's nimble fingering. It was by sheer willpower that she had been able to stop the thing from happening. It's not that she didn't like to come. On the contrary, she loved the feeling of careless abandon that accompanied the spasms of sexual joy. But the sudden desire to have her son's mouth on her snatch was even more powerful than the pleasure of an impending orgasm. She would come soon enough, but it would be his lips and his tongue that would be the instrument of her pleasure, the instrument of her sexual joy.

"Yes my son," she whispered. "I will spread my legs for you so that you can get a good look at my wet snatch. Your dad sometimes makes me he down on the bed completely naked. He says that I've got a furry puss so he shines a light on it and then he just looks at the thing, stares at it the way you would at a priceless treasure."

"Doesn't he like to fuck you?" Brian asked curiously.

"Oh, he fucks me all the time." Catherine paused for a second. ActuaHy what she had said wasn't entirely true. Lately Simon had been acting rather strangely, coming home late, making up all sorts of excuses for leaving the house. Indeed, several nights ago she had woken up and found that he was not asleep in his customary place on the bed next to her. She had begun to suspect that he was having an affair with someone. With Elizabeth. Yes, she was almost sure that he was screwing his niece, that he was dipping into the young girl's lovely honey pot.

Yet, despite her suspicions, she still loved him and still could recall with pleasure the wonderful fucking that she had received on innumerable occasions from him. Would her son Brian be as good as his dad? Could he use that mighty tool of his with the same finesse, with the same control that Simon consistently displayed?

Well, Catherine thought to herself, soon he would have his chance, soon he would have the opportunity to prove himself, to show his mom just how much he truly loved her.

"Go on, my eager young buck," Catherine whispered "My snatch is wide open and just begging to be eaten. I want you to suck on it till I can't stand it any more. I want you to make me come with those lips of yours, with that big fat tongue of yours that even now is dying for a good taste of my snatch."

Dying was the word, all right. Brian never knew that anticipation could be so intense, that desire could be so ravenous. His mother's belly was beautifully plump, her hips wide and inviting, her navel a gorgeous opening just above the tangled forest of pubic fur that flared up from between her legs. His eyes drank in the lower portion of her torso the way a thirsty man drinks in streams of water. Such beauty was finally his, finally becoming available to satisfy his hungry lust. He watched as his mother pushed her hips out toward him, her legs spreading wide apart, the soft mound of her snatch becoming easily accessible to his watering lips.

At long last I will taste pussy, the lad thought to himself. If it tasted as good as it smelled, then this would be a delightful little treat. Brian circled his arms around his mother's meaty white thighs, caressing her ass once again as his eager hands ascended the slope of her buttocks. He held them firmly and pulled her toward him, closing his eyes, breathing in deeply and then taking a wild plunge into the dripping wet muff.

"Kiss it Brian," Catherine whispered when she first felt the hot breath of his mouth on her raw cunt. She closed her eyes and reached up to her bra-covered breasts, God, she was still wearing that damn thing. Brian, in his eagerness for pussy, had forgotten all about her titties. Well, the boy was young and impetuous. It takes lots of experience to appreciate that other sexual region of a woman's body, to appreciate the full potential of a big pair of warm mammaries.

"Suck, my boy," Catherine whispered under her breath as she began to massage her big tits with her hands. Even through the brassiere she could apply a delightful amount of pressure to the hard brown nipples. It felt so good to rub herself like that. When she was still a young girl she used to take a pillow and rub it against her titties for sexual gratification. Later on she learned how good it could be to feel a man's hard cock gliding across those two sensitive hillocks.

"Ahhhhhh...." she cried. "Ahhhhhhhh . ... "

Brian could hear his mother's wail, even with his face buried between her legs. Only several minutes had elapsed since he had commenced his ministrations, and yet even in this brief interval he had been able to learn much about the art of the sexual caress. His mouth had begun with a soft, subtle kiss bestowed gently on the labial lips. These drape-like folds had been amply smeared with vaginal fluid, glazed with the stuff. Brian's tongue licked the stuff dry, like a cat lapping up a bowl of warm milk.

"My clitty," his mother shouted. "Eat my clitty first" The problem was where to find it since this was his first trek across the female anatomy. He remembered reading somewhere that the clitoris was the seat of a woman's sexuality, that it lay hidden somewhere at the top, that it was a pearl-like organ that was jam packed with nerve endings.

"My ditty," his mother repeated. "Suck on my clitty like a good little boy."

It didn't take long for Brian to find the small, swollen protrusion. First he tongued it, applying a delicate and yet intense friction to its smooth surface. A second later he sucked it into his mouth, chewing on it first with his lips and then with his teeth.

"Not so hard, Brian," his mother whispered. "Take it easy, lad."

He played with this delicious female pleasure center for about ten minutes, very pleased with himself when his mother began to writhe and squirm with wild, erotic fever. He was now master of the situation and this made him feel good. He could make her scream if he wanted. He knew just what to do, just where to apply the pressure and in precisely what amount. After giving the hard little clit a few more wet, sloppy licks, Brian turned his attention to the love hole, several inches below.

He opened up the labial lips the way you would open up a clam shell, pulling it apart with his tongue and then thrusting his mouth right into her deep and fragrant cunt. First he just licked the sides, explored their plushness, their velvety depth. He was truly like a boy who had suddenly stumbled on a treasure, who had found his fondest wish coming true. This was pussy. The real thing and not some mere hallucination concocted for mastubatory purposes. He was inside of it, ticking it, swallowing the sweet juices that even at this moment it was exuding.

"Oh my lovely, lovely boy," Catherine cried, her hands still stroking her milky boobs. "Make your tongue like a cock. Push it into me hard. Fuck me with it Please fuck me with that big tongue of yours."

Ah, so that's what she wanted. He understood right away what was expected of him. It took him a little while to build up steam, first stroking her cunt hole very softly with his tongue. Then he increased the rhythm and the pace, till he was moving like a locomotive in and out of her deep, fragrant tunnel. Again Catherine's loins were beginning to heave. She was squeezing his head with her thighs, closing them tightly around his neck, pushing her wet muff closer and closer to his mouth. She was looking for the maximum pleasure and she was doing her best to insure it, grinding away with her hips and pelvis, fucking his mouth in the same way that she would fuck a long, hard prick.

"Your tongue...." she cried. "Aughhhhh ... ifs so nice to feel it inside of my puss, so nice to feel it banging away at me. I'm going...." She paused for a second, feeling waves of pure pleasure spreading themselves from the erogenous region between her legs, outward and upward throughout her body. It felt like warm, tingling fingers were massaging her flesh, like soft, succulent caresses of pleasure were covering her from top to bottom.

"I'm coming," she finally cried. "I'm coming." With those words said, her hands were flung in the air and her thighs began to squeeze even tighter around Brian's neck. Her pelvis expanded and contracted and the juice of her pubis ran freely from the excited orifice. Brian kept applying pressure, kept licking and sucking on his mother's raw cunt till the violent upheavals finally stopped. Her entire body was covered with sweat by now, and her long hair, neatly combed when all this had started, was now tangled and frazzled and pasted up against her forehead. It had been good though, made even more pleasant by knowing that it was the mouth of her son, the mouth of her darling young boy that had guided her to this experience of total and ultimate satisfaction.

"You did well," Catherine whispered when it was all over and the last spasm had left her body. "You're a natural pussy eater. You really know how to give a woman pleasure with that beautiful mouth of yours."

It was my first time," Brian whispered.

It will certainly not be your last," Catherine smiled, a twinkle in her eye. "Of course you'll have my pussy to eat from now on, when ever you have an appetite for it. And then therell be other girls. Plenty of other pussy for you to tongue-kiss and suck on."

Brian felt quite good that his mother was praising him so highly, especially in light of the fact that this was his first sexual experience with oral lovemaking. But there was a vague feeling of uneasiness that he felt, a vague feeling of apprehension. What if his father should suddenly walk in through the door and see him standing like that, his big dick waving like a flagpole at his mother. Brian wanted to say something, but Catherine, seeing that he was experiencing pangs of remorse, put a finger to her lips and told him to remain silent.

"Shh...." she whispered. "I don't want to hear a thing from you. You've just made me come and I'm going to do the same in return for you."

"How?" Brian asked stupidly, the apprehension that he had felt just a moment ago vanishing like a thin streak of smoke into the air. She was going to do to him what no other woman had yet done. She would make him come. How, Brian wondered. In a second, he was provided with an answer because less than a second later, Catherine, his mother, was on her knees in front of his giant phallus. She cupped both of her hands around it and began stroking the hot piece of meat with her palms, brashing it lightly even as her lips kissed his belly and loins.

"My beautiful boy," she whispered. "I've often dreamed of this moment, when I would be able to take this big dick and hold it in my hands, when I would have it so close to my mouth that I could practically kiss it if I so desired."

"Is that what you're going to do?" Brian asked. "Are you going to lass my dong? Are you going to blow my cock and suck in the gobs and gobs of cream when I shoot off?"

"My sweet, delicious boy," Catherine continued to whisper. "Here, bend over and unhook my brassiere."

Brian obeyed her instructions, grasping hold of the three metal clasps that held the contraption in place. Once they were undone, her breasts popped out of the cups that held him like ripe fruit from a tree. He bent down to have a good look at those titties. They were indeed large, beautifully curved like two white mountains of pleasure.

"Tin going to take your big cock," Catherine whispered, "and I'm going to rub it against my big titties. You'll see, it'll be lots of fun for you, lots of fun, my darling boy."

First she pulled his cock between the two mounds, burying the head in her cleavage and then using her hands to move the globes of her breasts against its inflamed surface. Almost before she knew it, a tiny trickle of seminal fluid came pouring out of the eye at the tip. It was a sticky, gooey substance that had a smooth, honey texture to it

"Now I'm going to rub it against my nipples " Catherine whispered. "I'm going to take your big cock and use it to excite myself with."

"Then what?" Brian asked breathlessly, though he instinctively knew the answer.

"Then," Catherine said. "Then I'm going to suck your cock till you come in my mouth. I believe that one should do unto others as they have done unto you. And you've certainly given me pleasure with your mouth as as I will give you pleasure with mine."

She took the lad's enormous tool and began to run it back and forth across the peaks of her mammoth breasts. Even though they were large, they did not sag, but maintained their youthful form. She stroked the lad's cockhead against her left nipple and then brought its head against the right one. This procedure continued for about five minutes till Brian, mouth open, tongue hanging out, felt like he was at the end of his tether. She had aroused him to fever pitch, had excited him in a way that he had not dreamed was possible.

The knob of his cock was enflamed and small eye drops of pre-seminal fluid had leaked out of the tip and had spread itself along its surface. While she rubbed her titties against her son's massive organ, Catherine was further arousing his carnal lust by gently squeezing his throbbing balls, tickling them with her fingers, massaging them with her palms, applying a delightful friction to them in a manner that nearly twenty years of sexual experience had taught her.

"Oh God," Brian finally cried. "If you keep this up I'm going to come."

"How close are you?" Catherine asked.

"Pretty close," Brian replied. But even if he hadn't said anything, just looking at his face would have told her the entire story. His eyes were literally bulging out of his head like two swollen grapes. His adam's apple was bobbing nervously in his throat. His forehead was perspiring heavily. Even his heartbeat was loud and distinct, filling the room like a drum.

"I don't want you to spray the stuff all over my titties," Catherine laughed. "I guess that it's time to suck your dick into my mouth and show you how good a really expert blow-job can feel."

Then, in one fell swoop, her head dived down toward his enormous erection. Her mouth gaped open and her lips did the rest, sucking the thing deep into her oral cavity. She had a warm mouth and a hot tongue which almost instantly began lavishing sweet kisses on this f long, hard intruder. In a second the entire surface of his hard dick was covered with her sweet saliva, her teeth chewing, her lips sucking, her tongue licking hard and fast.

This mouth has sucked many dicks before, Brian thought to himself. Not even an experienced whore could be so agile at the art of fellatio. There was not a single superfluous action, a single unnecessary motion. Like a well-conducted symphony orchestra, the different parts of her mouth moved in unison toward the same objective. Brian didn't want to come too fast, wishing to relish these moments of pleasure, wishing to make them stretch out and last and last.

Meanwhile the teeth were biting delicately, the lips sucking gently, the tongue stroking softly. How much longer could this go on, Brian wondered. This was a hundred times better than masturbation, a thousand times better. God, the friction was practically driving him up the wall, practically making him crazy with lust He tightened his muscles, squeezed his palms together and began thrusting with his pelvis. No longer would he remain motionless, no longer would he remain the passive recipient of sexual excitement. He threw his hands on Catherine's head and held it firmly, and then he began to pump away at her mouth with his cock.

I'm fucking you Mom," he cried out loud. "I'm fucking you in the mouth."

His big dong went gliding back and forth at an excited pace. He jammed it. all the way down into her throat so that she began to cough and gag, pulling the thing out a moment later before thrusting it back again.

"I can feel it now" the boy cried I'm going to come----Going to shoot my load."

But there was no time for anything else, no time for anything but the thrill of ejaculation. It came pouring out of his cockhead in strong, gooey spurts, an interval of several seconds between each. Catherine nearly went mad when she tasted the velvety cream, nearly climaxed right there on her knees as her son's smooth, silky semen filled her throat with its fragrant heat. She was tasting it, sucking it in, swallowing every single precious drop, every precious ounce.

"I loved the way he tasted, Simon," Catherine whispered to me. "I know it was wrong for me to blow my own son, but there was something that overcame me, an impulse that I just couldn't resist."

"What happened afterwards?" I asked, partly curious and partly aroused. I must admit that this story that she told me of her encounter with Brian certainly turned me on. I could feel even now, a thick, rising hardness forming inside of my pants.

"What do you mean, afterwards?" Catherine asked. "I sucked the boy off and then the two of us lay down on the carpet and held one another very close. I knew that you would be coming home soon so when I saw that it was a quarter to midnight I hurriedly got dressed and sent Brian up to his room."

"Yes, I remember that night quite well," I whispered. "You were acting quite suspiciously when I entered the house. Very nervous, tense."

"Well you know, I sort of thought that it showed, that my incestuous involvement with Brian could somehow be revealed in my eyes." Catherine paused a second. "Did you suspect?"

Did I suspect. That was a good question. Perhaps if I had not been so amorously involved with my naughty niece Elizabeth, I might have been able to see what was happening. But I was much too busy covering my own tracks to try to uncover those of others.

"No," I replied honestly. "I had no idea what had transpired between the two of you." Suddenly I gulped hard, a lump forming in my throat. I must say that I felt at once aroused by what I had heard and at the same time was sickened by it. I mean, she was my wife, not some dirty little slut. And yet that's exactly how she had behaved, exactly how she had acted.

"Tell me Catherine," I whispered. "Was that the only time."

"Only time...?"

"You know," I continued. "Was that the only time that you and Brian made it together?"

Catherine's head was downcast. She looked quite beautiful at that moment, her long black hair done up in a bun above her head, her body encased in a tight-fitting yellow print dress that she sometimes wore around the house. Her breasts were magnificently large, her hips wide but delicious to behold. Was it possible? Had my son Brian feasted on her body, had his lips tasted her pussy, had his mouth caressed those wonderfully plump bubbies? Well, as the saying goes, when the cat's away, the mice will play.

"Be honest with me, dear," I whispered. "Did you and Brian ever screw one another after that?"

"Yes," she finally nodded. "Lots of times. ... We did it lots of times. I mean, you were always away at the office and I was lonely. Time after time, I told myself that I would have to stop, but I found myself invariably being drawn toward his room."

"So it was you who sought him out."

"Yes, I'm the guilty party." Catherine whispered. "Brian wanted to stop. There were many times that he wanted to put an end to the whole thing. It was making him quite nervous, quite apprehensive."

"But...?"

"But I wouldn't let him go. I needed him. I needed to feel his mighty tool digging away at my snatch. I needed to feel his cock shooting come inside my puss." Suddenly Catherine turned her head to the side, her long, silky black hair falling gently across her back and shoulders. Was it a tear in her eye that she was wiping away? I couldn't be sure.

The wind outside had picked up and for August it was quite, quite strong. The rain had begun pouring down in buckets and the sky had suddenly turned murderously black. I must admit that I was feeling quite angry not only with Catherine, but with myself as well. I couldn't help thinking that if only I had given her the attention and sexual affection which she so badly needed, which every woman needs, then this tragedy might have been avoided.

Elizabeth-that bitch was the cause of all my troubles, the cause of this disaster. And yet, could she in truth be blamed? After all, she was but a mere seventeen-years-old, a child. I was the adult, the only one whose actions could be held accountable. I had given into her whorish seduction. I had permitted her to lead me to this terrible plight. From now on, I resolved, I would avoid the girl, have nothing to do with her. No matter how badly she would entreat me, no matter how seductively she would approach me, I would remain firm.

While all this was going through my head, my eyes continued to stare at Catherine's voluptuous body. It was as though this sudden revelation about her affair with Brian had acted as a mighty aphrodisiac. My organ had stiffened and was now pushing uncomfortably against the trousers that I was wearing. Did I dare make an advance? What would she think of me? And yet she was my wife, still my lovely, darling wife in spite of what I had just heard.

I don't exactly know how it happened, because it was one of those things that occur on the spur of the moment I let the paper that I was holding slide down onto the carpeted floor and then I rose and approached her. I let my hand fall down on her cheek. Then, wordlessly, I bent over and kissed her on the mouth. At first her lips remained sealed, as though they would not permit my tongue to enter. But in a moment they parted as the clouds part before the rays of the warm sun.

Our tongues merged and the sweet flavor of her saliva filled me with an insatiable desire. It was as though her harlotry made her even more desirable to me, as though her incestuous relationship made her even more sexually attractive. My hand suddenly fell to the zipper in the back of her yellow dress. With one quick motion I pulled it all the way down and then lifted her arms out of the shoulders of the dress. How can I describe what she looked like at that moment, in complete repose, leaning back in the sofa chair, her dress down around her waist? How can words describe the sheer beauty of her brassiere-clad upper torso? At the time she was wearing one of those light nylon bras, the kind that are meant only to give support and which do very little to hide the exquisite beauty of a woman's breasts. The cleavage was deep and delicious, the two hillocks on either side like silken white globes of pleasure.

Now I closed my eyes for a second and tried to remember what she had done to Brian. She had taken his mighty organ and rubbed it against her tits, had massaged it with her breasts. It was only fitting that I, being her husband, should receive the same generous treatment

"What are you going to do, Simon?" She suddenly asked, the paleness having left her cheeks, a bright youthful blush making her look quite attractive, quite seductively beautiful. There was a twinkle in her eyes, as though she full well understood what it was that I had in mind, but she repeated her question nevertheless.

"What do you want to do?"

"I want to fuck you, my darling wife," I replied and as I said so, I reached behind her and unclasped the tiny hooklets that held the brassiere in place. In a second my hands were on the cups, peeling them off her flesh the way you would peel the skin off a fruit

"You want me to do to you the way I did to Brian?" she asked hesitantly. "You're going to fuck my titties and then you're going to fuck me in the mouth?"

"Yes, my darling wife."

Seconds later my own fly was unclasped and my dick was ready for a good tit fuck. God, it was a swollen rod, standing up at a forty-five degree angle, pointing at her like an accusing finger. Her breasts were two perfect globes of flesh, round and firm and filled with the heat of womanly passion.

"Oh Simon, darling, let it be like it used to," Catherine whispered. She leaned back and I was delighted by the way her mamillaries flattened, the way they changed their shape. Indeed, with each movement of her body, she was able to reform them in different ways, now round, now flat, now pear shaped, now pointing up, now pointing toward the floor. It was fascinating to watch how her cleavage changed in dimensions, now growing wide as a canyon, now narrowing to a mere crevice, growing wider or narrower with the motions of her arms and chest and torso.

"Take your hands," I whispered, "and push your titties together. I want your cleavage to be nice and tight as I rub my hard dick against your soft, warm bubbies."

"First brush it against my nipples," the excited Catherine whispered. "Make these cherries feel the heat of your dick, even as they have felt the heat of Brian's big dick. Make them grow so hard that they will want to burst open for you like ripe summer cherries."

"Yes, my darling wife," I whispered passionately. "Your wish shall be my command."

I grabbed my erect pern's at the base, and somewhat like an artist with a warm brush, I began to smear the thing across the outer surface of her large bust. I concentrated on her left tit first, sliding the hot, throbbing organ that I was holding in my grasp against its equally hot and voluptuous surface. In the meanwhile, I had begun working my knees between Catherine's legs, ghding them up her thighs, massaging the hot inner flesh of her loins first with one of my knees and then with the other.

"My nipples," Catherine cried. "They want to feel your cock. They want to feel your balls rubbing against them. Please, darling Simon, do not deprive them of this great and glorious pleasure."

"Not for the world," I replied. "Not for the sun and moon and stars would I keep the hot meat of my dick from your lovely little nipples."

They were colored a dark pink, spread over a large portion of her titties, like two glowing stars of pure pleasure. At first I poked them with my prick, but after a while I was able to discover a better technique, one which you, dear reader, might find quite useful in your own carnal endeavors. I made Catherine slide down on the sofa chair that she was sitting on, so that her back was lying flat, so that her bust was facing the ceiling, directly below my enormous rod. Now, by throwing my legs around her hips, I was in complete control, able to slide the underside of my penis across the warm, white flesh of her upper torso, across the satiny smooth surface of her lovely young breasts. In order to have the maximum pleasure, I dropped my trousers and undergarments so that I was completely naked from the waist down. My balls swung low, and with each stroke of my dick, they banged away at her flesh in a gentle and yet exciting manner.

"Oh Simon," she cried. "You will play me the way a violinist plays his violin. Your dong will be the bow and my titties will be the instrument."

"Yes, lovely wife, I will fuck your tits and then come in your mouth,"

"No, not in my mouth," Catherine whispered. "I am a dirty harlot, a tramp that deserves to be spat on for the evil sin that I have committed with our lovely son, Brian. Punish me by letting your come, by letting your hot cream spray in my face. I wish to be degraded, my husband. I wish for you to humiliate me."

Suddenly I remembered Elizabeth's request along similar lines several weeks ago, on our first encounter out in the country. Maybe what the bitch needed was a little beating? Yes, I decided, it would do her a lot of good to feel the lash across her body.

"What are you going to do?" she asked when I raised my hand against her.

"You'll see, you incestuous bitch," I whispered. "I will teach you what it means to diddle with your son's dong. I will teach you what it means to take his stiff prick into your mouth and suck it till it exploded with gobs of gooey semen."

"You're going to hit me?" she asked and I could see that she was thrilled by the prospect

"Of course, you darling bitch," I replied and then slapped her face for her. Not hard because I want to assure you that I am not a sadist and I do not thrill to an other's suffering. And yet, I suppose, that there is a bit of everything in each of us and that if we dig deep enough we will soon discover that every perversion that has ever been conceived becomes a possibility in our lives when the right mix of circumstances converge at precisely the right moment in time. Just as this afternoon released certain sadistic impulses in me, I could see that activated Catherine's masochistic yearnings. She had asked for me to ejaculate in her face because she wanted some sort of punishment for her illicit sexual activities with Brian. How much more effective would a beating be? How much more would she enjoy one? I wasn't sure, but I was certainly intent on finding out

"My darling bitch of a wife," I sneered. "You will now suffer for your infidelity."

Having said those words I began to slap her lightly on the face once again. It was not so much pain as humiliation that I wanted to achieve. I treated her like a mere child, like a lowly servant girl, as my palms stung her flesh. Soon I was attacking her breasts that moments later I intended to fuck. Again and again I brought my hand down against those lovely globes of sexual pleasure, till from a pale, lovely white, I had turned their color to a crimson hue. You could see my finger marks on her skin, the outline and shape of my palms on her flesh.

"Oh darling," she whispered to me. "This is what I deserve, Simon. I deserve to be beaten and I am so glad that it is you who are doing it to me, that it is you who are administering this lovely punishment"

"So you like it" I laughed fiendishly. "This shall only be the beginning of your degradation. This shall only be the first step of your penance."

"My dear husband," she said. "Do with me as you wish. I am a mere harlot, a vile filthy creature that deserves to be punished by whatever means you see fit"

Catherine was still lying face up on the sofa chair. The dress that she was wearing was down around her waist and as yet I had not feasted on the plushness of her cunt and ass. Now was the time, the perfect time for what I wanted from her, for what I had in mind.

"Turn over," I whispered.

"Why?"

I slapped her in the face, this time harder than before: "Don't you know that you must never question my authority? Don't you know that it is wrong for you to ask for a reason when I command you to do something? You are to obey as a mere servant girl would. You must respond quickly and unhesitantly to my command."

"Yes master," she whispered.

Then turn over."

"I will turn over," she said, mimicking my words like some small, helpless child.

In a second she was down on her knees, her ass high in the air, her face down on the seat of the sofa chair. Her back was bare and her dress was still covering the lower portions of her anatomy. Not for long, however. In a moment I grabbed the hem of her yellow print dress and lifted it up over her legs, past her calves and thighs and up above her luscious ass. Underneath she was wearing a pair of matching yellow panties that were fringed at the borders with hot-pink lace. They were made of very sheer material and the globes of her butttocks stood out beautifully against such fabric.

"Take off those undergarments," I whispered. "I can see that they are all sweated up, that the place where they rub against your cunt is all covered with the hot juice of your pussy."

"Yes, husband," she whispered. "My cunt is dripping wet. My clitty is burning hot My love hole is a deep, dark pool that lusts for your mighty cock. Do with me what you want husband, for I am quivering with carnal desire, with the thrill of sexual excitement"

"Then off with your panties, bitch!!!"

"Yes," she replied and reached for the elastic waistband with her hands. She wiggled her curvy hips and in a second the panties were down to her mid thigh. She looked incredibly voluptuous in this pose, incredibly desirable with her bloomers, stained as they were with the silky vapors of her cunt pulled down her plump loins. She was about to remove them altogether, but I told her to stop.

"Leave them on like that for now," I whispered.

It's funny, but clothes, especially sexy garments, can enhance the female form and make it even more exotic than it would be were it totally unclad. Those yellow panties hanging right underneath her dimpled ass, directly below her furry muff was just the thing to make this afternoon romp a total carnal success.

"Raise that ass of your nice and high," I whispered. "Now spread your legs as far as you can so I can get a good look at that wet puss of yours, the one that our son Brian had so much pleasure from."

"Why are you getting your belt?" she asked when she saw me picking it up off the floor.

"So I can give you a good paddling, my dear wife," I replied, a smile of smug contentment on my face. She turned her head toward me, almost like a little child looking at a parent. Her black hair was beautifully unkempt as it fell in haphazard locks down the side of her face and neck and along the smooth curve of her shoulders. I was hesitant at first, holding the leather strap in one of my hands as I smoothed the other across the cheeks of her buttocks. What a warm, creamy ass she had, just slightly dimpled and tinged with a vague reddish hue. Did I dare beat such an ass? Did I dare inflict pain upon it?

I took the metal buckle of the belt and dangled it between her thighs, letting its coldness rest against the warm fur of Catherine's pussy. She jumped, as though she had suddenly been burned. I paused for a second, sucked in a breathful of air and then raised the leather strap up above my shoulders, doubling it up and administering the first lash in the gentlest of manners, almost like a love tap, which I suppose it really was. I hesitated before the next stroke, but after several minutes of warming up, I was soon moving fast and furious against her naked, upflung bottom. The thick, juicy buttocks soon turned a dark red and before long tiny red welts began to appear on their smooth surface.

Again and again I brought the leather lash across her curvaceous ass. Moments ago it had been so proud and arrogant, so damn sure of itself, resplendent in its unashamed nakedness. Now it was tasting the fruits of humiliation, the bitterness of a hot leather whip. Every time the loud, crackling sound of flesh and leather filled the air, Catherine's hips started to sway, her legs began to shake, her ass began to tremble with what I perceived to be desire.

"Ohhhhhhh . ... Aughhhhhh...." she moaned in a deep, sultry voice, like a bitch in the throes of summer heat. The welts on her backside got deeper and redder and they began to burn like hot fire. This is what the bitch deserved, I thought to myself. This is what she wants.

"Oh, Simon," she cried. "My pussy. Give me a few strokes on my pussy." Her voice was penitent, feverish and filled with the thrill of excitement. "On the cunt," she repeated again and again, as though she was reciting some sacred prayer, as though she was uttering some magical incantation.

So the bitch wanted a beating on the cunt. Well, I would give it to her unhesitantly. This was a game, after all, and so long as I was careful, it didn't matter what either of us did or said.

"On the cunt ... on the cunt." She moaned, almost as though she was asking for a hot cock. I noticed that her thighs were getting tight, that they were opening and closing like the wings of a bird, flapping in a delicious sexual manner. I had come to understand, after having lived with her for nearly sixteen years, what the meaning of this motion was. Whenever I got her excited, Catherine reacted in a similar manner. In the early days, before our marriage, I used to enjoy fingering her in her living room or kitchen or sometimes even in the deserted balcony of a movie theatre. I once even fingered her in a library, protected from view by stacks of dusty books. Her reaction to such tactile stimulation was always the same. First she'd moan, clench her fists together, beat her legs back and forth and then, without much warning, she would cry out as wave after wave of violent orgasm overwhelmed her body.

The same thing seemed to be happening just now, as I brought the tongue of the lash against the mouth of her wide open cunt. Was it possible? Was the pain actually turning her on? Well, I didn't believe it at first, but before many more moments had elapsed, I could see that it was happening. Her pussy was beginning to contract, the labial lips starting to open and close like the mouth of an oyster. She was no longer standing still, but beginning to heave violently, to twist and sway her hips in a most delightful manner. I brought the belt across the red gash of her cunt again and again, not very painfully but hard enough so that she was able to feel it. After several long, hot moments, I noticed that the leather had changed color, had become stained in places as though it had suddenly been brushed across a puddle. In a second I was able to figure out what had made this belt turn wet. It was the juice of her pussy, the puddle that flowed freely from her steamy soup kettle, from her briny cuntal orifice. She was spewing the stuff, that distinct feminine sex lubricant that is so fragrant and tantalizing. .

"Oh Simon," she cried. "Beat my pussy, harder and harder. Make me come, Simon. Use your leather belt to make me come."

I am not the type to refuse a lady's request, and if this is what she wanted, who was I to deny it to her? Her muff was hanging down between her legs, the dark, bushy pubic fur stained with dampness, the moist labial lips glazed with a veneer of pussy come. I aimed the belt between her thighs and beat blindly, murderously, viciously, striking mostly against her loins, but scoring a few direct hits on the wide open pubic orifice.

The clock on the wall said that it was a quarter past two. The rain outside continued unabated and at the very moment that Catherine climaxed, a mighty bolt of lightning tore the sky in half.

Before she had even finished coming, I turned Catherine back over, so that her tits and face were pointed towards the ceiling, so that the lower portion of her anatomy, from the waist down, was straddled over the side of the sofa chair that she had been sitting in earlier.

She was twisting around madly, her hips gyrating, her body contracting and expanding as the throes of orgasm enveloped her torso. While she was getting hers, I would get mine. No, I didn't intend to fuck her cunt That would be too easy and just a bit boring given the current circumstances. Rather I would have that delicious tit fuck that I had talked about before I had administered the beating. Those juicy bubbies of hers were all bunched up so that the space between each was very narrow. I threw my legs around hers, so that my knees surrounded her. Then I bent just a bit and after cupping my palms around the side of her magnificent mamillaries, I drove my hard, hot cock between the two globes. I glided it slowly into the cleavage and then, by thrusting my pelvis back and forth, I began to build up some steam. Her flesh was silky smooth and there was hardly any trouble for me as I pumped in and out, back and forth, ramming the hot tool between the soft and bouncy breast cushions, up past her throat till the cockhead hit her chin and brushed the edge of her moistened lips. Her tongue was hanging out of the side of her mouth in a delightfully erotic manner and long strands of straight black hair covered her cheeks and the side of her neck.

"Oh Simon," she moaned. "It feels so good when you rub your mighty prick across my bubbies. It's heaven to feel your hot dick brushing up against my face. Do it harder ... harder. I want you to come all over me. I want to feel your come juice on my lips, on my tongue, on my face ... on my face."

"You bitch," I whispered, slapping her as I continued the violent thrusts with my pelvis. I was fucking her, if not in the most conventional of manners. Still, I was fucking her body, I was receiving a delicious stimulation from her soft, hot white flesh.

"You're going to come soon," Catherine whispered. "You're going to come just like me. I can feel the first drop already. It's so hot and sticky, so delicious that it thrills me through and through, right to the marrow."

What she said was true. The first drop of pre-ejaculatory fluid had already sputtered out of my swollen cock head and had formed a shiny glaze where it had fallen. Soon there would be more, I thought to myself. Soon there would be much, much more. To be quite honest, I could hardly wait, could hardly stand the slowness of passing time.

My testicles were already beginning to quiver. The soft, thrilling friction caused by rubbing my stiffened penis against her bosom made my heart race faster and faster, till it felt like an overheated motor that was on the edge of exploding. For a moment I thought that I might even burst out of my chest.

I sucked in a mouthful of air, and then another and then still another, as the pace of my movements steadily increased, till my cock was a mere blur as it passed back and forth across her naked titties. Suddenly I found myself gasping, choking, as my head began a feverish spin. My eyes bulged like grapes in their sockets, and then, without much of a warning, the first blast shot out of the needle eye of my phallus like a burst of creamy liquid.

"Oh Simon," Catherine moaned. "I can feel it now. You're coming ... You're coming."

As she said those words, she raised her head and her hands and grabbed hold of my jerking phallus, the cream, gushing all over her palms. She was like a little girl trying to get a sip out of bubbling soda bottle, opening her lips and throwing them around my ejaculating penis.

"That's a good girl," I whispered, patting her gently on the head. Meanwhile the stuff came barreling out of me and before many moments had passed she had sucked me clean as a whistle. I fell to the floor, as though drained of my life fluids, Catherine still clutching my penis in her hands and mouth.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" she asked later, after we had lain in each other's arms for several moments.

"And you?" I asked, referring to the beating.

"Yes, I loved it. We must do this again sometime."

"Certainly," I replied, a contented smile on my face. Much had transpired this afternoon, and there was still much that I had to think about. For instance, the revelation about Catherine and Brian had still not completely been assimilated and I was sure that it would take a long time before my feelings about it became completely clarified.

Then, of course, there was the matter of Elizabeth. H she was one who had taken me away from Catherine, then she was partly responsible for what later followed. The question then remained, what must be done with her? Could I possibly ask her to leave? Well, where would she go? Her parents were in the midst of a divorce and she had no home, save mine, to return to. She had become my responsibility and I knew that I could not simply abandon her altogether. This, after all, was not my nature.

There were many, many things whirring around in my head. This had been a maddening summer, one that had caused me much grief so far. I still was not sure how it was all going to be resolved. Suddenly Catherine reached out and touched my hand.

"Finger me," she whispered. "The way you used to. Push the middle one all the way up."

The bitch was in heat again and the time for musings and backward glances was at an end. Later there would be more than enough time for sorting the situation out Now, however, pussy pie was high on the agenda.

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