Chapter 4
The route to Lake Mundelein utilized Illinois' Interstate Highway 94 primarily. Bob picked it up at Edens Plaza, then continued north until he came to the Wisconsin turnoff. Then he was on the tollway most of the way to Libertyvilled and Rockland Road.
It was a beautiful day today. As the miles sped along, he looked out on both sides of the car windows at the various housing developments that were springing up all along the tollways in this region of Northern Illinois. There were some really magnificent developments at Lake Forest, just west of town, on a private, manmade lake. The houses there were enormous and magnificently timbered. Nothing less than four bedrooms, many of them up on stilts with gigantic playrooms in their lower levels and sun terraces just outside.
How he would have loved to own a house like that. But they really just couldn't afford it. Some of them ran as high as eighty-five thousand dollars now. So instead he had chosen to pick up a parcel of land on Lake Mundelein and put a little cottage on it.
Fortunately he had missed the rush ... barely. Plots on the lake were now going for as high as forty thousand dollars for the land alone. It was a terrific and lucky investment. Everybody was suddenly going crazy to have a house on the water somewhere.
And if the cottage was put together properly, it could still be resold later, the whole package, as a small permanent home, for a considerable profit.
So he thought all this, glancing out the windows from time to time, taking his turns in order, and meanwhile every so often throwing a glance at his beautiful twelve-year-old daughter comfortably ensconced next to him.
Pamela, for herself, merely sat very still throughout the ride, letting her beauty speak for itself. Occasionally she would glance down at his crotch when his eyes weren't on her, but she didn't notice anything significant. When the boys at school had the hots for her, their penises always became swollen and hard, very stiff, and she could feel them like little iron bars through their jeans.
A few nights earlier, one of the boys who had gotten her in the back of the bushes next to Central Beach, had asked her if she would "suck on it," but she had refused, a little disgusted and not a little scared. But now she found herself wondering about her father's penis and what it might taste like. It might actually be quite good, for all she knew.
But what about when he shot that white sperm stuff into her mouth, the stuff they made babies with? Wouldn't that make her gag?
Well, she would just have to wait and see. In the meantime she crossed her legs and looked straight ahead so that he could have her profile, straight ahead at the endless long cruising miles of white lines down the tollway.
She had been up this way before with her dad, but that was last year and her tits hadn't been anywhere near as big, and anyway the whole family had been along, so the situation was quite different.
She found herself wondering what would happen once they reached the cottage ... and what might happen if she encouraged it. A vision came unbidden into her mind of herself on her back with her legs splayed out very wide and her dad sticking his enormous prick deeply through her cunt hair as she shivered and cried out, his huge hands squeezing her breasts madly.
Pamela shivered. She was really getting turned on. She glanced over at her father. His eyes were on the road. Still no sign of anything in his crotch. Maybe she would have to contrive to sit in his lap or something. Apparently he was not going to help her. He was treating her just as fatherly as usual.
She sighed and ran her hand across the inside of her thigh, just casually, as if she were smoothing her dress. Ordinarily she wore jeans all weekend, but for some reason she had decided to put on a skirt and the tightest sweater she could find. She hadn't worn a bra, and her large young boobs were bobbling all over the place. She scrunched down on the seat, rubbing her buttocks hard against the imitation vinyl. There was a tingling in her anus that kept getting stronger. She wondered what that meant, and if it had anything to do with sex.
So her father's was the first penis she'd ever actually seen, despite all her encounters with school friends behind school and elsewhere. She knew that cocks got hard, but she'd never dreamed they were anything as huge as her father's. Actually she half suspected that they weren't and that her dad was simply amazingly well-proportioned.
She glanced at him again. Had he noticed how her oversize nipples were pushing out from the sweater, and how the sweater stuck so closely to every gorgeous contour of her big tits? If he had, he gave no sign of it, but merely kept his eyes placidly on the road ahead. She twisted her mouth. She would have to think of something to get him started, because this might be the best chance for them to be alone for quite a while.
It was a good thing, then, that she had thought to bring her bathing suit. Actually it was from last summer, and. she wasn't nearly as well-proportioned back then, but she expected that this old bathing suit would look something like a bikini on her now, it would be so small.
True, the lake would probably be too cold to swim in, but her dad didn't necessarily know that. Anyway, she could just put her toe in to test it, then run bobbling back to the house squealing that it was cold.
Pamela smiled and shook out her long blonde hair. Her big beautiful blue eyes sparkled. If there was a way of getting her dad, she was going to find it.
Back at the Davis house, Adele had gotten her baking and laundry out of the way and had begun making Martin a small bite to eat for lunch. From time to time she looked out the window at him there, in the pool, diving or swimming or whatever. A large lump the size of a meatball rose in her throat. There was something about her son that was really bothering lately, but she was afraid to admit to herself what it was.
He was handsome, though, wasn't he? she thought.
Smiling softly to herself, she reached down to scratch Rex's throat as the Davises' big German shepherd muzzled up against her legs. She looked down at the sweet dog and smiled, then noticed that her legs were unbecomingly hairy. She had meant to shave them that evening she was in the bath thinking of working Bob into a little sex, but she had clean forgotten. Instead, she had merely done her armpits. She had to shave fairly regularly, even though her body was very fine.
She looked down at Rex and smiled again, chucking the German shepherd under the chin until it panted with its long pink tongue hanging out and dripping saliva on the kitchen floor. "Well, we shall have to do something about this, Rex, shouldn't we, old dog? Can't have momma going around like this, what would her children think of her? Old bag, frowzy, doesn't know how to dress, black curly hair on her legs, huh?"
Rex panted and began sniffing, trying to put its head under her dress. Adele stood up and smoothed herself out, cupping her massive bust with her hands. Well, she wasn't going to become dumpy. Martin could never be proud of a mother who let herself fall to pieces.
"Come on, boy," she said to Rex abruptly, and she grabbed his collar and dragged him after her toward the stairs.
Upstairs she did her legs rather quickly. Then she noticed that the bottom drawer to the bureau was pulled out. Pamela must have taken her bathing suit, she thought immediately. But the water at Lake Mundelein surely can't be warm enough this early.
She shrugged and got up to close the drawer, but as she did so something else caught her eye. Her old black bathing suit with the overshoulder straps.
Adele smiled to herself. She hadn't gone swimming in years, and now a suit like that was as old-fashioned as the covered wagon.
Still, she had always drawn her share of whistles. Once she had gotten old enough to realize that her gigantic breasts were nothing to be ashamed of-and Bob had helped her in that respect-she had actually enjoyed, if somewhat guiltily, the wolf-whistles she drew on any beach.
She took out the bathing suit and held it up to her voluptuous, top-heavy body. When a woman had a figure like hers, no bathing suit was too old-fashioned. Indeed, it was all one could do to remain adequately concealed. Even dressed she had always drawn obscene stares. And now Pamela was getting that way too.
She sighed. There was no justice in the world. She should have been born homely, instead of with equipment like Marilyn Monroe's or Jane Russell's.
Well, why not take a swim, just for the devil of it. She could leave all of her work go, and Martin and she could have a nice mother-son talk in the pool.
Smiling in a silly fashion, she began slowly undressing. In a matter of moments she was totally nude, and this was where the truth of her magnificence was displayed in all of her most voluptuous glory.
Enormous breasts, always pendant, but now hanging even more, down the top of her belly. Still, nothing to be ashamed of, even though they were gigantic. Although she had had two children, her tits were still shapely.
Enormous aureoles too, and nipples so large that they stuck up almost two inches whenever Bob sucked on them.
Then there was the dark black thatch of hair between her legs, and the soft slit nestling inbetween. Tiny waist with opulently curved belly, flaring, sensual hips. Long black hair which she now shook out so that it fell all the way down her back to the cleft in her dimpled buttocks. She fluffed it out. Bob always said I had the most beautiful hair in the world, she thought. Years before, when they had first been married, he had adored running his hands through it as if it was money and muttering licentiously under his breath: "You're mine, you. Mine. Your hair is like an animal's mane, Adele."
And then invariably he had fucked her when he was so worked up.
Strange, wasn't it, how that passion had ebbed through the years! Yet she was still built as sexually as she ever had been.
She wondered then if Martin thought she was pretty.
Well, he had to. She was his Mom! All boys thought their moms were pretty.
Smiling softly, she sat down at the vanity and began to do up her lips, purely on impulse, to make them extra large, very red, and juicy. Then humming softly she followed this up by blacking her eyelashes heavily and drawing them out. Again, on impulse, she sprayed perfume all over her magnificently desirable body.
And then she went to pick up her bathing suit and put it on. She wanted to get to the pool while the day was still warm and pleasant. One never knew how the weather might change in the spring.
And, for some obscure reason, she wanted to take her swim while Martin was still in the pool, before he went inside to pick up his lunch....
Rex came up and nuzzled furrily against the creamy smooth softness of her legs, his tongue lolling out and panting. "Come on, Rex," she whispered, chucking him under the chin, "it's time for a little swim."
She knew when she got out to the swimming pool how she would look to Martin or to anyone else peering their way. Dazzling! Her enormous motherly bust joggled and jostled, one against the other, with an immense cleavage above the halter, which had been so arduously custom-made just to contain her massive 44 E's.
She had tied her hair in a pony tail, but she decided not to wear a bathing cap. Instead she merely walked out to-the edge of the pool and dove straight in, her hands above her head, cleaving the water for her.
When she shook the water out of her eyes again she was all the way on the other side of the pool, with Martin treading water across from her. He was just looking at her with his mouth open.
"What's wrong, darling?" she asked sweetly.
"Gosh, Mom," he breathed unclearly, his voice just a shade hoarse, but that was all.
"What is it, dear?" she smiled, pushing the water around her.
"I ... I never saw you in a bathing suit before."
She laughed lightly, flirtatiously had she but realized it, and batted her long dark eyelashes. "Oh, dear, don't be silly. You've seen me many times in this old rag."
She swam over to him and put her hand lightly on his shoulder. Her long red fingernails grazed the fresh moist warmth of his sun-browned young flesh. He was not even as tall as she was, because she was, after all, a big woman of statuesque proportions, and he was still, after all, just a boy. Her high, square shoulders towered over his finely made, slender and muscular proportions. She thought just then that his lovely young body could be used in a university anatomy class to give lessons. He was a handsome living specimen of everything that was male.
"Don't you remember?" she purred, "Mama wore this old thing at Lake Winotowoc three seasons ago."
Martin blushed and looked down at the water sheepishly. "Gosh, Mom, I was only twelve years old then."
Adele's heart quickened. What on earth could he mean by that curious statement? Suddenly she felt an irrational urge to flee. Smiling self-consciously, she swam away toward the other end of the pool.
He had been only twelve. What on earth did he mean by that? She wasn't sure she like the intimations of that statement.
On the other hand, she was a beautiful woman, after all, and she was built so extravagantly that a pubescent boy would certainly have to notice her. So, was it Martin's fault if he regarded his mother as beautiful?
Adele blushed and began doing the breast stroke, her hair very long and black swimming out in back of her. Not that he had said as much, of course ... that is, that he regarded her as beautiful....
Did he? She wondered. Was it being terribly coquettish of her to even think of such a thing with respect to her own son? But why not? It was a natural thing for a woman to want to be thought of as beautiful, even if her thoughts were utterly pure and non-carnal. So there was nothing immoral in that.
Martin was getting out of the pool and drying himself off. He didn't look at her, but seemed to be consciously avoiding doing so. Adele looked up at the high trees that ringed the Davis home. The merest zephyr stirred in them, blowing the fresh spring buds hither and thither. She wondered if he would enjoy the nice sandwiches she had prepared for him.
She pulled herself up onto the concrete and rung out her hair. She couldn't remember when she had felt so utterly refreshed. She hadn't used their own pool in literally ages. Usually it was Martin's and Pamela's exclusive preserve, although they all sat out in the summertime. The swim had been a marvelous idea. She felt wonderful.
Martin was moping about the kitchen when his mother came in, picking up a little bit of this and that. He sat down at the kitchen table, casting at her what seemed to be furtive glances.
She ran her fingernails teasingly over the back of his neck, marveling at the fine white hairs back there, and Martin shivered and closed his eyes.
"What's the matter, dear, you're not eating," she murmured silkily, almost blowing down into his handsome young ear.
"I ... I can't," he stammered, pushing the sandwich away and shutting his eyes tightly.
Worried, Adele sat down across from him. Outside the wind was coming up strong and blowing the trees about. Now, that was more like spring, she thought.
"Why, dear? What's wrong?" she asked, her voice full of concern. She crossed her long, meaty legs and leaned forward so that much of her ample bosom spilled in a bobbling flood toward him. There was a clean odor about the kitchen between their two bodies, somewhat like the scent of newly baked bread. Adele assumed that the chlorine in the water had something to do with that.
"I ... I can't tell you!" he blurted, gritting his teeth.
And then Adele, puzzled, looked down at his sleek brown legs. Even though he was trying to keep his legs tightly closed, she was startled to be able to make out a peaked, pointy bulge just above the crotch of his bathing suit.
Martin had a hardon!
Adele almost gasped as she realized this. But surely it couldn't have anything to do with her and her beautiful body, or anything she'd done! It was merely the beautiful day and the fact that it was spring, of course!
And now he was ashamed of it, ashamed to let her know or see it. If that wasn't sweet!
Smiling softly, she ran her hand onto the tanned, supple muscles of his thigh. Martin shivered and closed his eyes again as she murmured, "But you don't have to be ashamed with me, dear. After all, I'm your mother, and you should feel free to discuss these things with me. After all, a boy of your age must expect to feel certain stirrings and discomfort this time of year."
Indeed. The chirping of the birds, the pleasant breezes, the strong sweet scent of spring flowers, everything combined to make her uncomfortable as well. So she could be doubly sympathetic. This spring was exceptionally sensual and stirring.
But instead of replying, he merely opened his eyes suddenly and gazed upon her gigantic tits as if his eyes were devouring them. Adele remembered reading somewhere that adolescent boys were even more mesmerized by sizable breasts than men were. It had something to do with their relative greater nearness to the suckling they had enjoyed as babies.
But that was a horrid thought. Surely Martin couldn't be interested in sucking on her breasts.
The silence held them in its closeness and sway. His eyes fastened on her gigantic mammaries as if he was in actual fact sucking on them. Boys his age yearned savagely for such enormous tits and were in seventh heaven just dreaming about them ... and here was his own mother, with the most beautiful, immense globbies in the entire world! Martin felt as if he were going to swoon dreaming about what her nipples must look like. He had already cum once in his bathing suit, and lie could feel all the juice in there. His balls felt as if they were bursting, and very painful with what his buddies termed "passion nuts." If he didn't get upstairs and masturbate right away, he was going to go crazy.
Rex came sniffing around and lay down on the kitchen floor with his head on his forepaws. He looked alternately at the two of them and appeared to be waiting for something. The air was heady with tension.
Suddenly a savage wind came up and blew through the open windows. Martin, still all wet from the pool, shivered as if with ague.
"Something wrong, dear?" she asked concerned. She stood up and put her arm around his shoulder, looking down at his bowed, platinum head. My beautiful son, Adele thought, and she felt a lump come up in her throat. This weather was certainly enervating. She would have to get her husband Bob to be sexy again tonight, but this time she would have to make him restrain himself.
"I ... I'm cold, Ma."
"Then come upstairs and take a hot shower. You're going to get a chill down here. All the windows are open."
"All right, Mom."
"That's the best way, dear. We don't want you to get a chill."
He nodded obediently and she gripped his wrist tightly as he got up, leading him upstairs to the bathroom. Martin followed behind her like a guilty child, her dominatrix' grip on his wrist totally commanding and imperial.
But he couldn't help but watch the magnificent sway of her large, fulsome rump as she went up the stairs. And, for Adele's part, she found herself wondering if he was watching it, and, instinctively female, gave it another provocative twitch every few steps. She suddenly felt as if she wanted to run her hands up over her hips and feel the full juiciness of her large buttock cheeks. She would have, if he wasn't watching. A heat of sensuality seemed to be smoldering in her loins. She would have to work Bob up really hot tonight. She couldn't imagine why her loins were in such a savage turmoil.
She started up the water in the shower for Martin, then turned abruptly and noted that his penis was still pointing out a mile through the thin fabric of his jockey swim trunks. She smiled felinely at herself. He was blushing a beet red and obviously didn't want to take off his swim suit with her there. She looked around as though she hadn't noticed anything at all.
"Looks like we're out of towels, dear. I'll go to the linen closet and get you some."
Martin nodded, looking down at his feet very shyly. She smiled and brushed her fingers over his face as she passed him, her immense bust almost brushing his cheek as well. Martin's eyes darted over her immense breasts. His breath was coming hot and panting. She went out and closed the door.
Picking up some towels from the linen cabinet, Adele moved softly back across the corridor to the bathroom ... and pushed the door open just as Martin was stepping into the shower stall!
She gasped at the immense sway and size of his youthful penis. She hadn't gotten nearly so good a view of it the other day when she caught him soaping it in the shower. But now it seemed huge. The head of his cock was enormous! The rest of the shaft was wonderfully thick and meaty for one so young, and pulsating with thick blue veins. Adele's breath caught, and for a moment suspended in time she didn't feel as if she would ever be able to breathe again.
Now her dark eyes caught and held on the two bags of nuts under his penis, covered with a soft down of fleecy white hair. She had never seen a more tender set of balls in her life, particularly as Bob's were the only set she had seen previously up till now. A wave of clear fluid washed down through her loins.
But all this took place in scarcely half a second, and then the shower curtain flashed and Martin had disappeared behind it. Breathing hotly, she dropped the towels and ran from the room.
Oh God!