Chapter 5
She didn't really want much dinner, but since she'd skipped lunch, Charlotte thought she ought to put something on top of the drinks she'd had. Dressed in the slacks and top she'd fled from her house in, she managed to do something with her hair and made up her face.
Just before she went down to dinner with the rest of them, she took a couple of quickies to bolster her nerve. Head high, walking carefully, she descended the stairs and made her way across the deserted living room to the kitchen.
When he saw her coming, her son got swiftly up from the round table and came to her, smiling. Charlotte tried to meet his eyes, but couldn't; she looked down and away, and turned to run back upstairs.
In the living room, he caught her arm. "Mom! Hey, don't do that ... don't run away."
Swallowing, Charlotte mumbled something about feeling ill, and tried to pull away. He held her, his hand warm on her upper arm, and spun her slowly to face him. "Hey-it's okay; really it is.
I mean, it's better than just okay. I think it's great, just great. Honest, mom, it's hard to tell you how grateful I am for ... for setting me up with Elena. I never knew sex could be so wonderful. It's like I just got born."
She forced her chin up, blinked at him through tear-rimmed lashes. "And what about me, Duncan? How do you feel about me, about your m-mother sleeping with ... with your friend?"
He put his hand to her cheek, a gesture he always made when she was upset and he was trying to soothe her. "I think that's great, too. Really, I mean. Blair's my best buddy, and a good guy, and I couldn't think of anybody better to ... well, to make you happy. Mom, you and I both know that you haven't been anywhere near happy for five years, ever since dad died-maybe before that, even. If Blair can turn you on, I'm glad for you, and for him, too."
"You don't think I'm a bad woman, an evil woman?"
Leaning forward, he kissed her cheek. "No; you're a real pretty, real sexy chick-and Blair's one of the luckiest guys in the world, being with you. I'm the other lucky guy. Elena's so ... well, I'm in love with her-really and truly in love with her."
Charlotte went loose inside; the strain melted from her body, and her heart seemed to swell in her chest. Duncan didn't hate her; instead, he was grateful to her for his affair with Elena, for the carnal instruction he was receiving from a beautiful and experienced woman.
Her son didn't hate her for sleeping with his friend; he thought it was her due, a good thing for her happiness, and he was so right, so right.
Impulsively, she kissed his mouth, and thought his hands tightened upon her upper arms, thought he held the kiss just a fraction long, before he released her arms to take her hand.
"Come on, mom," he said. "We don't want din--. . ner to get cold."
Burlesquing the manners of a haughty head-waiter, Duncan seated her at the table, bowed elaborately and set them all to laughing. Elena served platters of Mexican food, and Charlotte welcomed the spicy bite of it, the pickup it gave her appetite.
There was no tension among them at the table; it was like old times for the four of them, Charlotte thought, all kidding and eating with gusto and only now and then catching a glance that spoke of more than food.
It was even better, being in their company now, she decided; the taut desires were gone, the secret peeping had vanished; since they were slaking their passions for each other, there seemed to be a greater ease among them.
Under the table, Charlotte's knee brushed Blair's, and an electric shock jolted through her entire body. A sensual undercurrent lurked just under the surface of her ease, then, probably under all their casual actions.
For there had to be the constant knowledge that last night, they had been locked voluptuously together in naked squirmings, that they'd known the intimate and secret places of each other's passionate bodies.
She saw the sultry look in Elena's green eyes, the sidelong glance she gave Duncan, and the eager look he returned. And Blair-deep brown eyes reaching across at hers, reaching into hers, asking, pleading.
Elena said abruptly, "I don't think anybody wants dessert."
Charlotte rose, but from force of habit said, "The dishes..."
"The dishes can wait," Elena said, "I'm not so sure I can."
Swiftly, Blair came around the table to take her arm. The air in the kitchen seemed to turn warmer, to thicken with suspense, and Charlotte trembled. As she turned, as Blair was leading her to the stairs, her own son's hand brushed her hip.
"Have fun, mom-have all the kinds of fun you ever wanted."
"I ... you, too," she said, and immediately felt silly. A mother just didn't say things to her son like that, like: fuck nice, dear; or have a good screw; or don't give Mrs. Chapman a bad time, darling.
Give Mrs. Chapman a good time, she thought hazily as she started up the stairs; go in there between her golden legs and put your sweet, hard thing into her golden hairs and push it thrillingly up into her hotly golden pussy.
Her own son, doing that. Her dear Duncan, with a rigid penis and a panting mouth, and his little boy hands sliding all over Elena's womanly flesh. Her own son.
"Mrs. Mason."
They were in the bedroom, and he'd shut the door, and he was very sweet, very patient. "Yes, Blair."
"I'd like to undress you."
She drew a shuddering breath. "All right. I'll sit on the bed." Her own son was downstairs, just a few feet below her now, and maybe he was getting ready to strip Elena. But not thinking about his mother; thinking of the hotly eager body of Elena.
Blair was naked. She stared at his body gleaming in the soft light from the bedside lamp, at the smooth chest, the flat belly, the feathery moss so shiny brown, his hard penis rising so tall and straight.
While she was staring, he came close and pushed his knees in between hers as she sat on the bed. That brought his beautiful organ just about within reach of a loss, and for one zigzag, crazy second, she contemplated just that, thought of brushing that delicately colored and flange-shaped head with her lips.
Of course, she didn't. She turned her head as it neared her face, and lifted her arms so Blair could slip her blouse over them.
Then she hiked her tail to allow him to peel away her slacks. He kneeled between her spread legs then, rubbing his bare chest over each kneecap in turn, reaching up to take off her bra, leaving her clad only in sheer panties.
"Beautiful tits," he murmured, cupping them both, weighing them in his hands. "Big and heavy and beautiful. Man, how I dig big tits with nearly black nipples like yours."
Blair thumbed over her nipples and Charlotte caught her lower Hp between her teeth; he mashed her breasts gently with his palms, caressed and fondled them. He said, "You know, your tits are bigger than my mother's; bigger and richer. Oh, she's got great ones, and I'm not putting them down. I've been sneaking looks at them for years now, and land of drooling over them, but I think your boobies are a shade rounder and the nipples stick out a Little more."
Charlotte's breath was ragged in her throat. He stopped playing with her titties long enough to slip off her panties, then he was right back at them. But this time, with his stiff cock pressed against her belly, the gleaming, polished head of it touched up into the valley between her breasts.
"I've always wanted to do this," he said, and squeezed her breasts together, pushed them together with both hands. Then Blair pushed the warm head of his prick between them, up and down while he held her tits to make a warmly resilient vagina of them.
"That's groovy," he said, "real far out. Oh, Mrs. Mason-big, soft titties like these, ahh ... baby."
And every few strokes, his cockhead slid too far, slid out of her fleshy trap and tapped her gently under the chin. All she had to do was to turn down her face and it would touch her lips. All she had to do was kiss it each time it came probing through the love cave he was making of her swollen tits.
But of course, she did no such thing. Her arms went around his waist, and she urged his body down, pulled it tenderly lower, until he was once more kneeling between her thighs, but now with his belly tight against her humid crotch. He didn't let go of her breasts, and moved to nuzzle them, to bury his face in them, to nibble first one aching nipple and then the other. Blissfully, he sucked on them, and kneaded them as a baby will, to bring down more milk.
He'd sneaked looks at his own mother's boobs, Charlotte remembered. Blair said that hers were rounder than Elena's, and that he had drooled over Elena's for years. Did that mean that in turn, Duncan possibly had been enamored of Charlotte's boobs? Maybe all young boys eyed their mother's tits, or cast lingering looks at their mother's asses.
They just never did anything about going farther, because that was wrong as wrong could possibly be, for both mother and son.
She found herself rubbing up on him, grinding her wet mound into his muscular belly, and clamping him with her shivering thighs. Young and hard, boyish and anxious, he was so beautiful, so captivating.
But he didn't climb up and stick his thing into her. He was kissing down from her tits, touching the tip of his hot, wet tongue to her skin. Charlotte writhed and shook, but his hands were on her hips now, and his breath was fanning over her tummy, where it tickled so crazily she thought she was going to go out of her mind.
Tantalizing, teasing, he kissed her stomach and the flesh that covered her hipbones. Her hands were on his dear head, and when he dipped still lower, when she realized with a shock that he was actually kissing into the upper curlings of her pubic hair, Charlotte tried to pull his head back up.
Blair wouldn't budge; instead, he pushed the top of his head against her belly, and Charlotte found herself being tipped backward on the bed. His hand slipped down and thrust under her buttocks, and he took a firm, insistent grip on each cheek of her ass.
She tugged at his head, hooked her fingers into his hair and pulled to make him stop what he was doing down there. He had to stop, because that of all things was perverted, was unclean-he had to stop, stop!
"Blair! No ... please don't ... oh, Blair, you can't do that! You don't want to, darling ... it might make you sick. Oh Blair, stop, please, please!" r
He wouldn't stop. He was amazingly strong, and although she fought to shut her thighs, and battled to lift his head from between them, Blair hung on, pushed her back, back and then his mouth was clamped onto her labia.
Oh lord; oh please, oh no-his mouth was fastened hungrily to the wet and quivering lips of her pussy.
Blair's tongue licked up and down her lips as Charlotte's hands fell weakly and helplessly away from his head. His hot licking tongue-up and down and tasting, lapping like a little puppy; his tongue like a dwarf penis, thrusting inside the lips of her cunt, pushing into the well of her vagina so that his teeth chewed lightly and thrillingly at the labia.
His tongue slipped out, and she made an involuntary hunch of her ass to get it back, but he was sucking, sucking on her pussy, drawing her labia into his mouth, puckering them to suck the flowing juices from her hotly flexing vagina.
Hot and sweet, hot and wild, hot and wet-oh, she couldn't stand it! Oh, she arched and bucked and twisted because the drawing, pulling sensation was too strong, too much.
He sucked her as if he was sucking the sweet honey from a ripe and juicy orange, gulping her oils, smearing his face into her pussy. And as Charlotte came, when she humped and rotated her ass crazily in his hands, he stopped sucking and rammed his tongue in upon her vibrating clitoris.
She snapped the upper part of her body off the bed, gasped and fell back again. Her thighs squeezed upon his dear, gobbling head, until she was fearful that she might bury his loving face into her cunt and he'd be unable to breathe.
He chewed her clit. Ecstasy smashed in hot, rolling waves through her pussy, washed through her belly, bored madly from the rear into her clenched ass-hole. Blair chewed her clit and licked it and sucked on it, and Charlotte moaned.
Charlotte beat on the bed with both flailing hands and rocked the bed with her hunching contractions. She fucked his face, actually fucked his mouth, grinding and heaving, churning her enraptured pussy all over his face.
And came again, the fury of the orgasm wrenching her from the world of reality. She dissolved into a warm wet cave where lovely soft things bobbed lovingly around her, where lovely hard soft things dipped up into her cunt and out again, making her drip with their pearly white semen.
Dimly, she was conscious of Blair still licking Into her pussy, sucking tenderly upon her labia and swallowing the slippery juices that spilled out.
Her head rolled from side to side, and she was limp when he lifted from her drained cunt, when he climbed from between her lifeless thighs to drag her completely upon the bed. She flickered her eyelids, but he was only an outline above her, and she knew his body was lowering to hers.
Fiercely, he crammed his prick into her. Savagely, he thrust it deep, burying it to the balls. Her thighs flinched, and there was a stirring of new life deep in her pussy. His cock moved strongly in and out and she felt the tender slap of his balls against the wet crack of her ass.
A tremor ran through her. She drew a deep breath, and another, and as her head cleared, Charlotte caught her lover close, held him to her responding body as that gorgeous young staff pounded into her cunt, as it drew back for other lunges.
Her hands dropped and she caught the cheeks of his firm ass, drew him to her, pulled him back, slammed him to her pussy again. Charlotte fucked him steadily, hiking her ass and rolling it, grinding her belly and pumping on his slick, pistoning cock.
Blair let it go deep inside her, shot off his hot, sticky load into the cup of her pussy, and she clamped hard on the head of it to reach her own orgasm. Wet and wild, it came pouring through her, came pouring over his prick.
So insane; so impossible. Her head swam again, and she thought she'd pass out. But she fought the weakness, because she wanted to tell him how she loved him.