Chapter 1
Sandra Miles could feel the excitement stirring between her legs as she sat on the wooden porch swing. The cause of her excitement was Frank, her son.
It was not yet noon, still cool, but hot enough to make him sweat. He was mowing the lawn, walking behind the power mower. Dressed only in faded old cut-offs, his young body glistened with sweat. His hair kept falling across his forehead, and somehow it seemed erotic when he brushed it back.
She loved watching him work, seeing those subtle, young muscles strain now and then. He was well tanned, and his chest was getting muscular. The mower was loud, but not unbearable. Besides, Sandra hardly heard it.
Beneath her summer dress, her body was naked. Her firm tits strained and molded beneath the top of her dress, the garment held up by two very thin straps. One strap had fallen down on her arm. Her legs had been crossed, but now they stretched out as she swung gently back and forth, watching Frank. She held a glass of lemonade in her hand.
Sandra couldn't say when this hunger had begun within her tall, slender body, this insane desire for Frank. At the moment it seemed as if she had always had this burning need for him. Her clit was elongated, the lips of her cunt puffy. The slightest pressure of her thighs was enough to create a tingling sensation that brought soft moans from her.
The mower made a few choking sounds, then stopped running.
Frank leaned over it, fiddling with the parts. His back was to her, and Sandra's eyes stared at the tightness of those cut-offs, stretching across his ass. The short fringes exposed stark whiteness of flesh, contrasting with the tan of his thighs. A lurching fire burst through Sandra's cunt. For just a brief moment, she almost experienced an orgasm. The sensation was very strong, and she closed her eyes.
A soft mewl came from her. The urge to smash her hand between her legs, to rub frantically at her cunt, was strong.
But she refused to give in to the urge.
She refused to fingerfuck herself.
She didn't want her fingers ... she wanted cock, a very hard cock . . . Frank's cock . . . her son's cock!
When she opened her eyes again, he was squatting near the mower, trying to get it started again. The waist of his cut-offs had slipped downward, and she imagined she could see where the crack of his ass began.
The roar of the machine startled her.
Again Frank was mowing back and forth.
In the past few months, she and her son had become much closer than they ever had been. Perhaps it was because he had finally gotten over the loss of his father, but Sandra preferred to think it was because he was showing interest in girls now. She liked to think of herself as his first girlfriend, his first bittersweet love. She liked to think of herself as his dream girl, his toy, his playmate, his sex object.
She had begun to pretend so much, it was almost a reality. She spoke to him the way a girlfriend would, teased him with promises of pleasure. Much to her delight, Frank was starting to return the teasing. She loved to call herself his girl, and Frank went along with it. She would pretend jealousy if he expressed desire for some pretty girl on television. It was all just play. Or so she tried to tell herself.
It was time to stop playing pretend.
Sandra couldn't keep it up and hold onto her sanity. Her desire for Frank was getting too strong to control. It was all she could do to keep her hands off his body. Although she held him, caressed him, kissed him, she had to restrain her hands from wandering across his chest, down his flat stomach, over his cock and balls, across his young, tight ass.
She knew he loved resting his head on her tits, pressing close to her. Once she thought he was going to put his mouth on her nipple, but he didn't. She had felt his hot breaths burning through her blouse, her dress, and it fueled the rumbling excitement inside her. She had tempted him by putting his palm on her thigh once while wearing shorts, but that was as far as it had gone. She didn't know if her son was afraid.
She had a hunch Frank wanted to touch her cunt, her tits, her legs, her ass. She wasn't totally certain, but he looked at her with those hot, greedy eyes when he felt she wasn't noticing.
The mower stopped when Frank cut the power. He wiped the sweat off his forehead, looking at her.
"Forget the back yard, Frank," she called. "It's going to be too hot today. Have a glass of lemonade with me."
His quick grin flashed as he walked to the porch. Sandra poured him a glass of the cold liquid, and Frank sat on the step, drinking it down quickly and offering the glass for more.
"Hot as hell, Mom," he said.
"Hotter, I think," she replied. "Why do you insist on cutting the grass every Saturday, honey?"
"We don't want the place to get too shabby, do we?" he replied.
The was what she liked about him. As young as he was, he tried hard to keep the old home in good repair. It was a wooden two-storied house, much too large for the two of them. But it had been left to her by her parents, and she had grown up in it, loved it. She would never sell the home. Besides, her son loved it as much as she did.
Swinging back and forth gently, she gazed at him with fondness. She had allowed the hem of her skirt to hike up a bit on her thighs. She had her knees slightly parted, her legs still stretched out. When her son glanced at her knees, she felt her pulses pound crazily.
Frank saw halfway up his mother's thighs, saw the creamy inside flesh. He looked without embarrassment, his eyes glazing somewhat. Sandra stopped swinging a moment, letting her legs widen a fraction more. Her son would soon be looking at her cunt, she thought.
Would he enjoy seeing her cunt? Would he react to the sight by getting a lovely hard-on? Would he realize that the teasing was finished and it was time to act out what they both wanted?
The wet glass slipped in her hand. She jerked upright to cling to it. One leg shot out and up. Frank caught a glimpse of the thick fan-shape of her cunt hair. He swallowed as his eyes became huge. By the time Sandra recovered, she realized he had seen her pussy. Instead of closing her legs, she left them apart as she leaned back in the swing. She looked directly into her son's face, watching his expression.
Frank continued to gaze between his mother's thighs, not the least ashamed. For a long time he looked under her dress. Sandra lowered her eyes, and saw the swelling of his cock inside the cut-offs. A smile slowly came over her face, her eyes gleaming.
"Well?" she said in a whispering voice.
"Yeah," Frank replied, still looking between her knees.
"Enjoying the view?" she asked, still in a whisper.
"Beautiful view, Mom," he said, his voice thick.
They became silent for a few minutes. Frank continued to look up his mother's dress, and Sandra kept her eyes on the front of his cut-offs. His cock was very hard, outlined almost. The prickhead appeared about ready to slip past the fringe, about to show itself. She ran her tongue over her lips, breathing deeply, her tits straining out, nipples probing at the dress.
"Do you really enjoy looking?" she asked, her voice husky with emotion.
Frank nodded his head.
"Are you getting . . . excited?"
"I sure am," he groaned.
"So I see," Sandra murmured, her eyes burning on the length of his outlined cock. "A girlfriend should please her man, don't you think?"
"I'd hope so, Mom."
"And I am your girlfriend, aren't I?"
"I sure hope so!"
"Then I should please you, shouldn't I, honey?" Her voice was very throaty now, very thick. "If a girlfriend don't please her man, he might find a girl that will, isn't that right?"
"I guess so, Mom."
"I don't think I'd like it if you found another girlfriend, darling," she whispered.
"Mom, you're ... I think we should ... I don't know what I think."
"I understand," she said, her voice barely audible now. Her cunt was on fire, the fuck juices seeping from the puffy lips. "Maybe I should be a real girlfriend to you. I could do things a real girlfriend would do. You know, go on dates with you, let you hold me . . . kiss me, the way a girlfriend would. Even . . . you know, let you maybe touch me."
"Aw, shit, Mom," Frank stammered with sudden shyness. "You're teasing me again."
"I am?" she asked. "Are you sure, honey?"
With her eyes flashing fire, she inched her dress up slowly. Frank's hot eyes followed it. She stopped when her dress was only a few inches from her crotch. The curls of her cunt hair were obvious now. Frank gasped, his lips parting. Leaving her skirt there, she slowly pulled the fallen strap down and off her arm. She very slowly slipped the top of her dress downward. Frank watched, breathless, his eyes burning and his tongue hanging out.
Sandra paused for a moment.
"Are you certain I'm teasing?" she asked in a low voice.
Frank swallowed. "I'm almost sure, Mom," he moaned. "I think I'm sure. You wouldn't really . . . show it to me, would you?"
"Show you what?" she teased.
"Your ..." He choked.
"My titty?" Sandra asked. "A real girlfriend would, wouldn't she?" "I suppose so."
Her dress hung just above her hard nipples. The creamy flesh excited Frank. He could see the deep valley between his mother's tits, and his cock throbbed in hardness, his balls feeling full and tight.
"I'm not teasing," Sandra said in a low voice, and she jerked her dress downward. Her tits came free, firm and round with nipples straining upward. They were light-brown in color, with large circles at the base. "I'm not teasing you at all, honey."
Frank gasped, staring at his mother's revealed tits. His cock throbbed as Sandra watched, trying to will that smooth, swollen head to peek out from the fringe of his shorts.
Along the porch grew roses, dense enough to conceal Sandra and her son from anyone walking by on the sidewalk. But, at the moment, neither cared if someone noticed. Sandra's passion was intense. She was excited by what she was doing with her son.
Sandra caressed her tit, circling her rigid nipple with the tip of her finger, licking at her lips. Her tit rose up round, firm, without any sag. She was proud of her tits, of her whole body. She was still as shapely as she had been in high school. All the curves and hills were perfect, intoxicatingly so. She looked fabulous in a bikini and drew the eyes of men of all ages. She was aware of her beauty, proud of it.
"If I'm your girlfriend, Frank," she said very softly, "you should sit here with me, hold me a while, kiss me."
Frank stood, and then, as if aware of his hard-on for the first time, tried to hide the bulge.
Sandra laughed. "Oh, don't do that, honey. I like it."
With only a hint of shyness, Frank came toward his mother. Sandra stared at his cock straining against the cut-offs. He sat in the swing beside her, and, when his bare thigh touched hers, Sandra shivered with pleasure.
"Put your arm around me," she suggested. "Hold me as if I am your girlfriend. I want to be your girlfriend, Frank, and you have to treat me that way. You're my boyfriend, and that's the way I'm going to be with you."
She felt his young body shaking as he put his arm across her shoulders. Sandra took his hand, pulling it to her exposed tit. Cupping his palm about one tit, she rested her hand on top of his, pressing slightly. She placed her head on his shoulder, her eyes watching his cock. She stroked at his sweaty thigh, her fingers teasing his flesh, going close to the fringe of his cutoffs, then pulling back. She lifted her face to him, her lips pursed.
"Kiss me," she moaned. His lips pressed hers, lightly. "No, silly. Kiss me like you would a real girlfriend."
His lips pressed firmly, and Sandra parted hers, the tip of her tongue sneaking past his teeth. A groan came from Frank, and Sandra licked the inside of his mouth. She shoved her hand up the inside of his thighs, the tips of her fingers barely brushing the head of his hidden cock.
Frank groaned into his mother's mouth, his hand tightening on her firm tit. Sandra made a mewling sound deep in her throat as he squeezed her tit, her nipple tingling at the palm of his hand. As her son started feeling and caressing her exposed tit, Sandra moved her hand between his thighs, cupping his balls through his shorts. Again Frank moaned, pressing his crotch into his mother's hand. He clung to her tit tightly, and his tongue shoved past her teeth. Sandra gave a soft whimper and sucked at his tongue, holding his balls through those shorts. She squeezed them gently, then rubbed along the throbbing length of his cock. Her finger slipped beneath the fringed edge and felt the smooth tip of his prick. She rubbed lightly along his piss hole, feeling the seeping fuck juices. She moaned and tried to swallow his tongue.
"Feel me up!" she hissed. "Feel me up, darling!"
She shoved her fingers inside his shorts, feeling the hardness of his cock, the heat, the delicious way his prick throbbed. She felt his hand moving along her thighs, and she opened them. His hand slipped between her thighs, and again she shivered with anticipation. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then, with a groan, cupped her cunt. Sandra felt as if she were going to come against his hand. As the feeling grew, she pulled his cock from the side of his shorts, wrapping her fist about his prick, squeezing as her son began to suck wildly on her thrusting tongue. She felt him rub tentatively at her pussy and returned the pressure by scooting her ass forward. She jerked her fist up and down on his cock swiftly, her fist tight.
Their breaths came in hisses and grunts. Feverishly, they kissed hard, sucking tongues, licking lips. Frank was clutching his mother's tit in one hand, very tightly, and rubbing his palm up and down her wet, hairy cunt. As Sandra pumped feverishly on his throbbing cock, Frank worked his middle finger into her cunt. Sandra gasped with delight, trying to open her thighs wider for him.
"Oh, God, baby!" she whimpered. "Oh, God! You're so hard, Frank! So very hard!"
"Yeah!" Frank grunted, fucking his finger in and out of his mother's slippery cunt faster. The wet heat of her pussy excited him all the more.
"Do it, do it, do it!" Sandra groaned, trying to arch her crotch to him. "Oooo, that's so good, darling! Your finger ... in me ... so good!"
She squeezed his cock hard, making her son groan. His prick felt hard as steel, the throbbing making her fist burn. She cupped the swollen cockhead, twisting her palm about, getting her hand slippery with the dripping fuck juices from his piss hole.
His finger was stiff, stabbing into her cunt hard and deep. He made soft, wet slapping sounds with his hand as he fingerfucked her. Sandra sobbed with the intensity of her ecstasy. She twisted her hips frantically, arching into his finger. She rested her head on his shoulder again, too aroused to keep kissing. Her hips churned faster and faster, and her fist jerked up and down with frenzied movements. She watched his cock with glazed eyes, seeing the head so big and round. Her fist beat up and down with short, rapid strokes.
"Oh, honey!" she sobbed. "Ohhh, baby! Your finger feels so good in me! I think I'm about to come, honey! Ooooo, ram your finger hard up me! Finger me fast and hard, Frank!"
Frank was already fingerfucking her cunt as hard and fast as he could. He looked down at her hips, seeing them swing up and down on his finger. The curling cunt hair was thick, soft against his hand. The heat of his mother's juicy cunt seemed to scald his flesh. Sandra cried out softly, hissing with ecstasy. She shot her hips out hard, grinding into his finger. She squeezed the shaft of her son's cock so hard that the head bulged even more, his piss hole widening.
She lifted her mouth to his again, and, as her son's tongue stabbed frantically into her mouth, Sandra sucked greedily. She began jacking on his cock again, churning her hips up and down as his finger probed the steaming depths of her fiery cunt. The ballooning of her orgasm filled every inch of her lower body. Her cunt was gripping at his finger, her clit painfully hard and tight. Each time he fucked his finger into her cunt, his palm smashed and crushed her clit, sending tingles up and down her spine.
A tight-lipped squeal came from Sandra, and her cunt convulsed about his finger. The orgasm was powerful, causing her cunt to suck and flex on his finger. She groaned and sobbed with fiery ecstasy, coming time and again with boiling waves of contractions.
Frank, feeling his mother's wet cunt clutching his finger in orgasm, watched her hips grinding. He was gasping at the tightness with which her hand held his cock. His balls were writhing in the tightness of his cut-offs.
As the orgasm faded, Sandra began squealing and jerking on her son's cock with a frenzy. His finger was still inside her cunt, but no longer thrusting. The hairy pussylips squeezed, and her fist jerked wildly. She had slipped her head down onto her son's chest, eyes glittering moistly as she watched her own hand jacking his cock.
"Ohhh, honey, honey!" she hissed. "Do it! I want you to come, too! Come, Frank! Ohhh, please, come for me!"
Frank's hips shot up from the seat of the swing, fucking his cock hard into his mother's fist. He grunted loudly.
"Oooo, yes!" Sandra gurgled.
His cock lurched in her fist, then a squirt of -creamy come-juice shot a foot into the air.
"More!" Sandra urged, pumping very hard. "Come some more!"
Time and again Frank's cock spurted come juice, each squirt flying high, then falling back onto her hand and his shorts. She squealed with pleasure as she watched him come.
"Beautiful, darling! God, is that beautiful!" she urged in a thick voice. "Come some more! Shoot it high, baby! Oh, keep coming, darling!"
The last few spurts didn't fly as high, but seemed to seep from his piss hole and run over her hand. She held on until his cock became soft.
"We made a mess, didn't we?" she laughed softly. "My hand is covered, and look at your shorts."
Frank slipped his finger from her cunt, leaning back in the swing, his chest heaving up and down. Sandra kissed his sweaty chest, then licked about one tiny nipple. She cupped his crotch again, pressing her palm at his hidden balls. She nipped lightly at his tiny nipple, then, after a final kiss on his chest, lifted her head, pulling her hand from his crotch.
"You better take a shower," she murmured. "You're not just all sweaty, but you've got come juice all over you, too."
"Mom," he said, his strength returning. "You're a real girlfriend now."
"Love me?" she asked, snuggling to him for a final hug.
"More than anything in the world," he replied.
"Then go take a shower," she said, pulling from him and slapping his stomach lightly.