Chapter 16
"Wait," he said, "please wait. Don't run away, Charlotte. I've come too far, and had too much trouble finding you."
Charlotte pulled the robe closer about her body and looked to Elena for help. Elena only lifted a quizzical eyebrow and grinned; then she slipped out of the house car and followed the youngsters down to the creek.
"I-I don't see how you found us."
"I kept looking," Mark Travers said. "I thought perhaps you'd get off the freeways after Jerry found you in that campsite, and I had the description of the bus. I kept looking, working up one side road and down another, but staying in a westerly direction. It worked out; I found you."
"Why, Maik-whyF'
His handsome face was intent, and a vagrant shaft of sunlight filtered through the house car window and touched his greying hair. "I know why you ran away from me-at least, I have a pretty good idea. But I can't let you go, Charlotte. I won't let you just run out of my life. I love you, and I want you."
"But I-I'm not sure I love you," Charlotte said. "And I've always been just a little afraid of you." She got up from the little table and brought out the bourbon bottle, surprised to see that it only contained a few drinks. Pouring one for them both, she downed hers quickly and refilled the glass before Mark did much more than taste his drink.
"I don't think you've been afraid of me, but of yourself. Charlotte-there's nothing wrong in wanting a man, in needing his physical love."
She drank again and flared at him. "I know that! It's just that I've been alone for so long, and-and-" Even though he was frowning slightly, Charlotte defied his disapproval and poured herself one more drink. The liquor made her feel easier, gave her more courage than she could ever have summoned on her own.
"You think I'm frigid, or-or something, don't you, Mark? Well, I'm not. I'm sure as hell not, and you'd better believe it. I'm a-a-well, I'm a passionate woman, and there's nothing wrong with me in that department, nothing at all."
His frown went away, and he leaned forward in his chair to watch her more closely. "I never thought otherwise, Charlotte, and it's a step forward, to hear you at least discuss this point with me."
She tossed off her drink and blinked quick tears away. 'You're so-so damned logical, and who needs it? I mean, you don't have to humor me, Mark Travers. I'm doing okay on my own now, and I don't need a whole bunch of logic, you hear?"
Mark smiled, and her heart bobbled at the sight of it. "Maybe I have been too calm, too reasoning. Maybe I should have forced you into a relationship, so you'd shake all those hidebound old ideas that are evidently causing you so much anguish."
"Hidebound? Hidebound?" Charlotte gulped the last of the bourbon and glared at the man who'd trailed her this far, this man who would not take no for an answer. "Old-fashioned ideas? Boy, if you only knew..."
"Then tell me, Charlotte" His eyes held hers firmly. "That is, if you're not putting me on again?"
The liquor burned warmly in her belly, and her head was light, fuzzy. She said, "I'm not frigid and I'm not hidebound or whatever the hell. I'm a real swinger, Mark Travers. I-I've made it with both of them and you'd better ... "
He stared. Boozy as she was, Charlotte realized she had made a mistake, that she had gone too far, and as Mark's eyes widened, she wondered what she could do to take it all back.
"Both of them? The boys, you mean-Blair Chapman and Duncan."
She shook her head violently, and the motion made her dizzy. "N-no. No, I didn't say that. Whatever could make you think that I-I would be a p-party to incest? Mark ... "
"You don't lie worth a damn," he said.
"All right!" she snapped at him. "All right, goddammit-if it's any of your business, I got good and goddamned tired of bein' a-a widow with nobody of her own, and if it makes any sense to you, I never had anybody of my own, not even my little bastard husband. So whatever the hell I do or don't do, with whoever or whatever-that's none of your goddamned business, right?"
Mark stared silently at her, his big hands fisted upon the table, and she thought he was on the verge of getting up and stalking out, on the ragged edge of leaving her life forever. That wasn't really what she wanted, she realized. But she wasn't about to tell him that.
"I didn't start it with Duncan on purpose," she said, "but with Blair, and I'm not sorry. I won't say I'm sorry because I-I laid my son, either, because I'm not. It-it's a fine and lovely thing, and excites me so much that I faint sometimes, and if that's bad and evil and all that bullshit, then so am I. So you don't want me now, and I don't care. You can't want me now, because I'm an incestuous mother and I screw other boys and-and I've gone down on them both and had them both up me at the same time-so you can get up and get the hell out of my life right now, Mark Travers."
He stood up, and Charlotte slumped back in her seat, wishing she hadn't downed all the bourbon, remembering that there was another bottle in the cabinet. She stared at her hands, at the fingers clenched around the empty glass. When she looked up, Mark was still standing before her, but now he had his shirt off, and the gray shone in the forest of his black chest hair.
"I locked the door, and I won't open it, even if you scream your head off. I've been wanting to lay you for so long that it's been driving me wild. Well, no more waiting. Take off that robe, Charlotte, and he down on the bunk."
"N-no," she said. "I'm not some kind of whore, that you can tell to do this or that. And you don't have to f-feel sorry for me, because..."
He stepped out of his pants, and she saw the great bulge in his shorts. Surely, she thought, that couldn't all be Mark's penis; it was too big. He said slowly, reaching for his shorts, "When I was fourteen years old, I screwed my mother. She was passed out drunk and my stepfather had just put the prick to her before going off to work that night. I saw her lying there bare-assed on their bed and couldn't stand it one damned aching minute longer. I wanted to screw my mother ever since I knew what a hard-on was for; ever since I saw another man sticking it to her when my stepfather wasn't home."
Wide-eyed, stunned limp, Charlotte sat unmoving while Mark stepped out of his shorts. His I penis was erect and swollen, tall and thick, and all his. It was the biggest cock she had ever seen, or even imagined, all heavy and blunt and with a pod of testicles hanging low beneath its root, the sac furry and flexing.
"I sneaked onto the bed and she was spread out halfway on her belly, with her ass toward me and the wet hair of her cunt shining. I'd never had a piece of ass in my young life, but I knew damned well what to do. I snuggled up close to her beautiful ass and eased the head of this prick in between the cheeks, and when I pushed, it found the slit, wet as it was from her recent fucking. So I shoved it on home, and it was so hot, so slick and wet in there, that I came right away."
He advanced toward Charlotte, and she lifted from her chair, hypnotized by the sight of that distended cock moving at her. "But I didn't stop fucking her. I fucked until I came again, and once more. I screwed my mother's forbidden pussy until I couldn't keep a hard-on any more, and when that happened, I slid down on the bed and pushed my tongue into it. I sucked and licked, and kept right on swallowing her juices. She stirred a few times, and hunched once or twice, but she was too crocked to know what was happening, that her one and only son was fucking her."
The purple head of his great cock touched Charlotte's belly high up on her dressing gown, just under her rib cage. Obediently, she slipped out of the robe and drifted back to he upon the bunk. Mark came after her, a gleaming droplet growing upon the slit in his glans. So big, she thought; so impossibly big.
He said, looking down at her, "You're put together a lot like my mother was-black cunt hair, deep and rich, those big, high tits and their stiff nipples. I only got to fuck her that one time, because I had to go live with an uncle, and she was killed in a car wreck before I got back."
"I-I'm sorry," Charlotte breathed, her lips numb.
"Me, too," Mark said, holding his rigid and monstrous cock in one hand. "I should have screwed her before. It was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. Now you know, that I'm no different than you, Charlotte-only you had the guts and opportunity to do your fucking before it was too late. I don't love you any less for that; I love you more!"
She held up her arms to him. "Oh, Mark-oh, wonderful, wonderful Mark! How lucky I am-how very lucky-oh, darling, I've wanted you, too, but I was so mixed up, so stupid-oh, Mark..."
His mouth found hers, and his tongue fed slickly into her lips. Her tongue answered it, slid lovingly over and around his, and when his tongue stilled, she began to suck lightly upon it.
Mark's hands caressed her tits, the big, knowing thumbs moving over her taut nipples, the palms crushing and cupping her mounds. She could feel his belly against hers, and spread her legs wide so that he might fit himself between her thighs.
"Ah, you spicy hot bitch. At last, I've got you pinned down."
One of his hands darted between her legs and held her crotch, squeezing tenderly upon her pubic mound. A finger worked at her ready cunt lips, slipped damply into them, and felt its way up inside her vagina. Charlotte's entire vulva quivered, and she realized that she wanted to fuck this man as much as she had ever craved to fuck anyone in her life-with the possible exception of Duncan Mason.
"Going to fuck you good," Mark panted. "Going to cram this big prick up you and fuck you until we've both had it."
"Yes," she breathed, "oh yes, yes-fuck me, Mark."
The great, throbbing head of his cock pushed against her humid labia, spongy, yet strong. She wriggled her ass and lifted her pelvis to take it in, to fit its heavy thickness inside her fevered pussy. Eyes closed, she could picture Mark Travers as he had been when a frustrated young boy, his cock hard for his own mother. As the head of that prick began to slide forcefully up into her cunt lips, Charlotte pictured Mark's mother taking it into her pussy from behind as her eager son snuggled tightly to her limp ass and fed the meat to her.
"Baby," she said raggedly, "oh, Mark, Baby-fuck me, fuck me!"
With one great hunch, the head of his prick popped inside her vagina, and the rest of his thick muscle followed after, stretching the lips of her pussy and filling her vagina with the good hot meat of him. Big, big-the shaft veined and thick as a club, his hairy balls now swinging down to nestle in the crack of her uptilted ass.
She'd taken it to the hilt, just as she was able to take the combined slim cocks of Blair and
Duncan; just as Mark's mother had absorbed the young boy-cock slipped to her on that long ago and so far away night. Charlotte was grateful to that faceless woman with the deep and black cunt hair, but she would have liked her even more had that unknown Mrs. Travers joyfully opened her thighs to the rigid pecker of that youngster when it would have meant so much to him.
As Charlotte had opened her own flaming cunt to her son's stiff rod, and to the rod of his best friend. Duncan loved her, and adored her pussy; it was a wild and wondrous thing, to be loved by her son and to be fucked by him. She was so happy that it had worked out that way, that Duncan and she could revel in the bliss of possessing each other physically.
Mark stroked his huge thing into her, pulled back and laid it deep once more, reaching all the way to the mouth of her womb. The breadth of his prick packed her cunt, and the sensation was much like the twin cock fulfillment she had enjoyed with the boys; each little movement drew the heavy pulsing meat across her clitoris. Charlotte twisted her belly to make it feel even better; she rolled her hips and bucked her crotch, and felt around and down to catch hold of Mark's swollen balls, so she could fondle them in their wrinkled, hairy sac.
In and out of her writhing body, Mark drove that slippery cock, cramming it balls-deep inside her shuddering pussy, pulling it back all the way to the flanged head, only to shove it corkscrewing into her cunt again.
"Just like her cunt," Mark grunted, his hands sliding down to take a grip on the spread cheeks of her pistoning ass. "She loved to fuck, and would do it every chance she got, with just about any guy who'd get a hard-on. But she never gave it to me; she never offered me her hot cunt. I had to sneak it for myself-but oh man, oh man-it was good when I got my prick in there-all wet and sloppy and hairy, and I loved it, loved it-ahhahh-oh, baby, I'm coming!"
Charlotte hurried her thrusts, ground her belly against his and heaved beneath the lunging of his cock. Mark let it go, and she felt the great flexing of his head as his prick spurted the first of his semen into her pussy. Another hunch of his ass, and another thick, hot fountain of come hosed into her; yet another, and one more-the splashes growing weaker as her cunt turned liquid with the steaming juice.
Raking his back with her fingernails, Charlotte bit into the hair of his sweaty chest as she rotated her pelvis furiously, and gave that final thrust that caused the magic to vibrate in her clitoris. She came, moaning and gasping, flailing her feet so that his prick bounced inside her vagina. Such a magnificent cock, she thought, such a beautiful, captivating cock. Now it was hers to take any way she wanted it, and she would ride it until Mark quit, until he was fucked out.
He rolled off her, his huge penis plopping out of her cunt and trailing a line of semen after it, across her lower belly. Charlotte looked down to see a string of the pearly stuff across the humid hairs of her pussy. His broad, hairy chest heaved, and his face turned to hers. "Charlotte-it was great, just as I dreamed it would be."
"For me, too," she said after awhile. "I didn't mind being a substitute for your mother."
"No," he said, "not a substitute; you just look Like her and I guess you fuck like her; that's all. I never said anything to anyone before, and I'm glad you're the one I told, Charlotte. When you admitted that you've been screwing your son-it broke some barrier inside me, and I could confess. And you made me so horny that I just couldn't stand it. I had to screw you, to get in there inside that tight, hot pussy that your boy has been fucking. I thought that I wanted you before, but now-you're too much. I'll never get enough of your beautiful cunt."
Charlotte lay a hand on his belly. "The others have probably tried the door two or three times by now, but we were too wrapped up to hear it. Mark-they'll all have to accept you, as I have. You know I've been laying Duncan and Blair, and I can't cut them off."
He closed his big hand over hers, and she felt his belly rise and fall with his breathing. "Of course not. They turned you on, and I'm not jealous of them. I'm damned glad they turned you on, and remember-I'm the last guy to think about depriving a boy of his mother's cunt."
"Elena has been screwing both of them, too," Charlotte said. "It-we kind of got started on each other's sons, and then the boys themselves changed beds one night, so they could get into their own mothers. Elena practically raped Blair, but I-I fought Duncan until he forced his penis into me. Then I screwed him back, I guess; it's all pretty hazy, about that first time."
"I figured as much-about Elena Chapman, I mean. You couldn't be making it with the boys unless she was in on it, too. Well; this is really great. I always knew that Elena was a hot piece, but who can think that any sexy woman will screw her own son? I kept hoping to run into one some day, but then you came along, and somehow I was drawn to you long before you got into this thing with Duncan. Oh-how about your daughter? How can you bring her along on a trip like this, where you're changing beds all the time?"
Charlotte smiled and rolled over to nudge the points of her breasts into his arm. "Jan is with it, dear. She'd been making it with Blair for months, and leaped at the chance to try her brother. They get together in a trio, and it's something to see."
"Jan," he said, 'little pixie Jan. Wow; I've thought of her for so long as a daughter, but I'll have to admit I used to stare at the way her sweet little tail wiggled in those tight jeans. Jan screwing both boys-wow."
Sitting up, Charlotte said softly, "Well have to talk it all out. Jan and the boys like you a lot, and Elena has been after me to marry you for ages.
I'm sure they'll vote to have you join us on this trip, and little Jan-I'll just bet she goes after you tooth and nail."
"You won't mind?" Mark sat up, too. "I mean, my screwing your daughter?"
"Why should I mind?" Charlotte said, and meant it. "There'll be three couples of us now, and you can screw Jan or me or Elena any time you wish."
He was sitting there, shaking his head, when she went to the door to let the others in, to tell them the news and ask their .opinions.