Chapter 1

"We-we really shouldn't be doing this," Sheila Lathrop told Roger Dunham.

His hand was up under her sweater squeezing her well-developed breasts; the fifteen-year-old lad went on feeling her heaving bosom and assured her that their sex play was perfectly all right since his mother was away at work and wouldn't be home until well after 5:30 that evening.

What he didn't know was that his attractive thirty-four-year-old mother, Norma Dunham, had left work at 3:30 with a splitting headache and now stood eavesdropping from the nearby hallway.

"You're sure nobody's here?" fourteen-year-old Sheila asked, breathing heavily as ' she stared down at Roger's erection bulging inside his corduroy bell-bottoms. "I mean, it's an awfully big house. There aren't any maids lurking around or anything?"

"It's absolutely deserted," Roger said. "The maid comes only on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. We have the place all to ourselves. Come on, let's take that bra off."

"Well, all right, Roger," she said. "If you're sure."

Actually, Sheila felt honored to be the object of Roger Dunham's lust in this very plush house. He was a good-looking boy and she had admired him for a long time now. Everybody at school-the whole town of Lanning, in fact-spoke very highly of Roger, even if his parents were divorced. Also, his father was a famous trial lawyer in nearby San Francisco.

Roger pushed Sheila back so that she was half-reclined in the corner of the enormous sofa and fondled her bare titties. His breath came fast. For months now he'd dreamed of feeling up Sheila, maybe even screwing her. He had a rubber in his wallet, just in case she let him go all the way. He kissed her full on the mouth, probing between her full lips with his tongue and planting hungry kisses on her eyes, cheeks, and neck. He went on that way for a while and then he pried her knees apart with his own knee and ran his hand up her smooth inner thigh to her damp panties. She didn't grab his wrist or anything, but she wasn't exactly spreading her legs wider apart either.

Reluctant-that was the word for her. Still, she did permit him to run his fingers up and down her moist little slit through the sheer material of her panties and, finally, he even managed to slip his middle finger under the elastic band and dip it partly into her gushing cunt.

'Oh, Roger," Sheila panted. "That feels so good, but I-I feel so guilty doing this right here in broad daylight in your living room."

"Nothing to worry about, Sheila," he said, fingering her more deeply all the time, prying her legs farther apart and tonguing her ear now. "Nobody can see us. I have a rubber, too, and we can do anything we want ... anything..."

Sheila stared over his shoulder at her school books on top of long mahogany stereo cabinet by the big bay window. It was a beautiful day for October-not a cloud in the sky-and the swank, residential neighborhood was trafficless. For nearly a month now, Roger had been flirting with her and watching her during her gym class. Today, when he had invited her for a Coke after school, she had accepted his invitation eagerly, and when he'd asked her to drop by his house to listen to records she'd been ecstatic. She hadn't expected the son of such a famous lawyer to move quite so quickly though, but now here she was-on her back with his finger up her cunt. She didn't think she'd let him fuck her, at least not today ... but she was not so sure. She was getting more and more excited and so was he.

"Roger, it's okay to-to touch each other, but I don't think we should, you know, actually do it here on the couch."

"Why?" he said, his finger all the way up her cunt and shoving steadily in and out up to his knuckle. His voice trembled and he could barely speak. Sheila Lathrop, he thought. Right here in his living room! God, he had lain awake in bed for weeks dreaming of fingering her pussy this way and now here she was ready and ripe for the taking. His finger was in her snatch, wasn't it? What difference would it make if he slipped his cock in there where his finger was? Ray Stevens and Phil Kendall had both fucked her, so why should she deny him his first piece of tail? He'd gone to the trouble to get a rubber, so he couldn't knock her up. He'd been considerate and a gentleman and he really was fond of her.

"Why?" he repeated. "You know I really like you, Sheila. I want to be with you. I want to take you to the movies and the Halloween dance, everything. Why can't we do it? You know I like you-maybe even love you-and I really want to make love to you. Now."

He raised her sweater up and began kissing and licking at the nipples of her titties. Wow, she really did have a mouthful all right-the best developed girl he'd ever felt and sucked. He decided not to scare her off. She'd said it was okay to touch. He'd go on touching until their touching just naturally lead to fucking. Gradually. Real gradually. That was the secret, he guessed. Touching meant for both of them, too, so he didn't see any reason why she shouldn't touch him. He took her hand and put it against his hard on.

She cooperated by rubbing his organ to the accompaniment of the loud rock music blaring from the stereo. After a while, he unzipped his fly and let his stiff cock flop free. Sheila grasped it firmly in her warm, smooth hand and squeezed lightly. Then, at his urging, she began slowly moving his foreskin back and forth, slowly jacking it so that it sent tremors up and down Roger's spine. God, he wished she'd let him sink it into her hot velvet snatch right this instant. He'd go crazy if she didn't let him bury his pulsing meat between her legs, hold her pert little ass in his hands and drive and drive until he came inside her. Things were looking good. Sheila had begun pumping slightly, moving her ass in an involuntary little rhythm to meet the plunging of his finger in her twat.

"Roger ... you're the handsomest boy at school," she panted. "I-I wouldn't be letting you do this if-if you weren't such-such a gentleman. You know that, don't you? Don't you, Roger?"

"Yes, Sheila," he breathed. "I know that. You're a beautiful, beautiful girl and I respect you. You know I wouldn't be doing this with just anyone either. Oh, Sheila! I have to do it to you-I have to! You've been driving me crazy for months. I think about you all the time. I dream of doing this to you. All the time. I have to fuck you. You have to let me. Pretty soon?"

"I-I guess so," she said. "But-but only because I like you so much. You know that, don't you, Roger? Don't you?"

"Yes," he sighed, relieved that she had agreed to let him go the distance. He could wait a little while longer now that he at least knew they were going to fuck for certain. Fuck! he thought. At last he was going to fuck and know how it really felt. He would join the happy ranks of the veterans! No longer would he be a virgin; and he would be fully accepted as an equal by Phil and Ray and his other friends who had experienced the ultimate sexual delight.

Ah, to fuck! Maybe, if she would let him, he thought, he would even eat her pussy. It would be too much to ask her to suck his prick; that could come later. The main thing was they were going to fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Sheila's hand worked deftly and methodically over his penis now, sliding his throbbing member ever-so-tinglingly amidst the dribblings that filled her palm. There was only one thing lacking. Heat. Cunt-heat. He wanted to be in there between her legs where it was oven-hot. He wished he didn't have to wear the damn rubber, but he dare not fuck her without it. All he needed was a knocked-up girl on his hands. His family would die-especially his mother. No, he would have to slip the thing on just before he shoved his prong inside her. It was the right thing to do. He owed Sheila that. At least. She was a fine girl and, after all, he had always been considerate. If ever a man owed a girl a little consideration, he reasoned, it was when he screwed her. Quite possibly, it was even more important than opening doors for her or carrying her books from school.

She didn't resist now as he hooked his thumbs in the elastic band of her panties and slid them down over ankles and threw them on the floor. The blood raced and throbbed in his temples. The music seemed to grow louder. His pants were down now, too, and off completely.

"Sheila ... Sheila," he moaned, spreading her legs wide, shoving her skirt up so that it bunched around her waist and he could view the delicious contour of her stomach and the little patch of dark-brown hair on her pubic mound.

"Roger," she groaned. "You promise you'll still respect me and like me after we do it?"

"Yes, yes," he cried. "Oh, more than ever! More than ever!"

And then he stared at the pussy before him and knew that he had to taste it, knew that he had to bend down and kiss it and lick it before he stuck his dripping hard on into her love-furnace. He hoped she didn't think him crude. He couldn't help himself. He was afraid to ask if anyone had ever eaten her pussy before, afraid his question might alert her as to his intention and she would stop him before he could satisfy a desire that had hounded him for several years now.

"Sheila ... Sheila," he muttered, never taking his eyes from her cunt lips and the vertical pink line between her legs as he slid down to his knees on the floor. "I-I want to kiss you-have to kiss your beautiful pussy first."

If any boy had ever sucked Sheila's pussy before, Sheila didn't betray the fact. Her groans rose to a fever-pitch as his mouth engulfed her juicy cunt and licked and laved about the interior and exterior of her hole. Still, she didn't seem terribly shocked either, so it was possible that one of her previous lovers had mouthed her quim. For Roger, though, it was even more exciting, more delicious than he had dreamed. He tasted her pussy gingerly at first; then, when he was certain that she was not shocked and, in fact, began lifting her buttocks steadily up from the couch to meet his darting tongue, he gobbled with unrestrained gusto, inhaling deeply and swallowing every drop of lubricant he could extract from her tasty cavern.

"Oh, Roger ... Roger ... Roger," Sheila lied, "no-no boy ever did that to me before. Oh ... Oh ... don't stop!" She clutched his head and pumped faster and harder, pressing the little nub of flesh at the very top of her dripping crease harder and more forcefully at him. She began gyrating her ass, grinding and thrusting with an abandon he had not imagined possible for such a shy and retiring girl. Yes, she had gone into a trance-like state because the pleasure was so intense. Roger longed to embed his bursting cock in her but he wondered whether relieving his aching balls would deprive her in some way. Driving her to this height of ecstasy, this frenzied peak, was soothing to his ego (no, more than soothing!) but he knew he could not wait much longer. He would come from just listening to her voice alone if he didn't fuck her soon.

Testing her, he eased the pressure of his mouth against her vagina and slowed his rhythm. She didn't panic and so he lifted himself from his knees and gradually slipped his cock to the entrance of her saliva-drenched cunt. He paused then, letting the head of his cock acclimate itself to the hot climate before attempting to push his jerking organ into the depths of her.

"Sheila, Sheila!" he panted. "Oh, at last ... at last ... oh, I love you, Sheila..."

"Hurry!" she whined. "Hurry and put it in me. Hurry..."

Her arms which had at first clasped his shoulders loosely now clamped him fiercely to her breasts, and with one hand she reached down and pushed against the small of his back, demanding that he make haste and enter her. Roger put the rubber on and began feeding his cock to her, sampling the paralyzing heat slowly, feeling the indescribable warmth envelop his organ. It was torture entering her at this slow pace but something commanded him to ease himself in, make his entry something they could both savor.

When finally it was in to the hilt, they both emitted long, satisfied ahhs and showered each other's face with wet hungry kisses.

"Oh, fuck me, Roger. Fuck me with your big hard peter," Sheila breathed, holding him even tighter against her and hooking her dainty feet around the backs of his ankles. Her stomach spasmed against his and their pelvis bones were locked tightly together. They lay there without moving for a moment, reveling in the fact that penis lay embedded in vagina, the bone-hard plug in its rightful bed of wet warmth. The couch was very wide and they were able to rock from side to side, not actually fucking yet, but merely relishing the delectable friction their spontaneous movements brought.

"In you," Roger sighed. "Inside of your special place."

"Ummm," Sheila cooed, hearing champagne music. "It's wonderful, wonderful. Doesn't it feel wonderful? I wanted to-really wanted to lay you, Roger-but I was afraid to do it here. But I really wanted to. I-I'm sorry if I seemed so scared."

"That's all right. It's in there now. Your pussy's so hot, Sheila. Yes, it is wonderful. Fucking is wonderful...."

"Yes ... oh, yes," Sheila grunted. "Let's make it last. I want you to stay inside me a long time."

"I'll stay as long as I can. Oh, it's even hotter in there than I imagined."

"Is it really that hot? Does it feel that good?"

"Better than anything ... anything...."

"Ummm ... for me too ... Wonderful, wonderful ... " she bubbled.

They lay there, rocking back and forth, talking of the wonder and heat and texture of each other's organs and how wonderful it felt; they settled into a more pertinent up-and-down motion; the rhythm of lovers everywhere; the instinctive, purposeful motion of male and female since the beginning of time (maybe even before!) as they sought the blessed relief of their loins and hurtled toward jerky fulfillment and the beautiful and inevitable goal of orgasm-genital heaven, the body's sensual bliss.

The mingling of their groans, the clutching of hands and writhing of bodies grew more intense as they pumped in desperate urgency toward their mutual mission, the male emission, the outpouring of anxious seed into welcome, fertile heat.

Yes, Roger's mother thought, viewing her son's buttocks thump at the widespread legs, it is beautiful ... a beautiful act and the youth of the lovers, their awkward grace, made its simple straightforwardness even more beautiful.

But it was, for Norma Dunham, an enviable act-not only because of the youth of the lovers and the fact that her son, her boy, was mating with another female instead of herself, but because she was not the one sharing this most important first with her son. She wanted to be the source of all good things for him, including sex. She knew this desire was not normal on her part, not any more normal than watching her son seduce a teenage girl without interrupting him, but she had known for a long time now that she would seduce her own son when the proper time presented itself. She only wished that she had been the one to indoctrinate him instead of such an inexperienced girl. In a way she felt cheated. Still, it was stimulating to watch him humping there and imagine his smooth, blemishless bottom thrusting between her own legs.

A tear ran down the cheek of Norma Dunham as she massaged her left breast with one hand and fingered her clitoris with the other.

Her boy had become a man.

No longer could she delight him with toys. To win him now she would have to give him her body-the ultimate gift. She again regretted she had not been his first. Still, there was much to offer him. He was a novice at lovemaking and there was much of the ancient art she could teach him. She stroked her vagina and wept quietly and planned.

Her headache had been a blessing, really. If she had not left her job as toy buyer for Bartlett's department store early today she would not have known of her son's loss of virginity. She was grateful, too, that she had parked her car inside the garage instead of leaving it in the driveway. The youngsters had entered thinking the house deserted and, therefore, begun their lovemaking. Everything happened for a reason, she thought for perhaps the thousandth time in her life. Yes, her headache had occurred for a reason.

In her mid-thirties, Norma Dunham was definitely pretty. Although one would not call her voluptuous, neither could anyone say she lacked sex appeal. Her divorce from her lawyer husband had not been due to any sexual problem. No. Her parting from Lester Dunham could be attributed to his all-consuming dedication to his work. He just wasn't around much. Clubs, late nights at his office, incessant meetings with clients-all combined to cause a steady deterioration in their relationship until divorce was inevitable. like many extremely ambitious men, Lester Dunham had given himself excessively to his career at the expense of his family. Now he was famous and getting more so all the time. To his credit, he admitted his own obsession and therefore provided handsomely for his ex-wife and only son. Norma worked primarily to avoid boredom, certainly not because she needed money.

The two teenagers were thrashing about and having at each other with an almost adult ferocity. Norma Dunham could hardly believe it was the same boy she had nursed and raised to be such a little gentleman who now applied himself with such diligence to the task of impaling this teenage girl beneath him. But there he was-pumping away and muttering those four-letter words in the girl's ear and clutching her buttocks firmly in his long, artistic hands almost like a veteran at the game. Men always stabbed ferociously as they raced toward their climaxes (bless them) and for that matter adult women were not exactly passive in the sex act either, but to see her own flesh and blood-her little Roger-take this girl with such violence startled her. When she had first decided to seduce her son herself, she had imagined that he would be somewhat gentle, even tender, but now she had to revise her mental picture of her body lying on top of her, cradled in her arms with his organ stiff and piercing her wet vagina. Yes, their copulating would be considerably different from what she had planned.

Still fingering her clitoris as she stood watching the fornicating youngsters, Norma conjured up memories of her boy naked. There had been the usual times every mother remembers, naturally, but changing his diaper and bathing him when he had been very young didn't count, even though he had always been the possessor of an over-size penis. ("Good grief! Look at the whanger on that kid," his proud father had exclaimed the first time he had seen Roger naked in his crib.) No, it was when Roger had grown older that Norma now recalled. The many times she had interrupted him during his bath, for instance, just recently. He had obviously resented her invasions of his privacy and had seemed anxious to cover his private parts when she had barged unexpectedly into the bathroom, but she had done so almost compulsively. Twice her intrusions had been rewarded with glimpses of what she was certain had been an erection. Yes, she was certain he had been masturbating with soapsuds there in the warm water-certain of it!

And oh how she had longed to assist him in washing his back, longed to subtly let the soapy washcloth run over his chest and legs and unobtrusively light upon his male organ, so beautiful and firm and erect!

Remembering her feelings, she fingered her clit even harder now as she watched him with envy plunging that penis-her penis-into this inexperienced girl. Several times, too, when she had come quietly into his room to kiss him and rub his back at bedtime, she'd been certain his penis was erect. Masturbating, she'd supposed, hoping that somehow he would have been so carried away that his good night kiss to her would have been tinged with passion. But instead he had forced himself to calm his breathing and given her only a perfunctory peck on the cheek. Well, now she would have to get bolder, more aggressive, she thought. She sincerely doubted that any male walking the face of this earth could resist a determined sexual approach by a woman, even his own mother.

It's a fact.

You stroke a man, show affection, speak lovingly and softly and their organs respond by getting larger. They can't help it! Nature designs them this way. Incest is really not so complicated as some people like to believe. The truth is, under the right circumstances a man would have sex with anything that moves! Their penises enlarge and they push against the first available thing that promises warmth.

It was Norma's firm conviction in the validity of this premise-this absolute inability to resist sexual stimuli on the part of the male animal-that gave her hope. Yes, she had been waiting for the right time to seduce her son and now, judging from what she now witnessed-the time had come. Too long had she loved Roger from afar. Now was the time to clutch him to her breast and let their bodies be as one.

"Oh, it's getting better and better, Roger!" Sheila cried. "It-it's feeling so good I can't stand it. You're filling me up ... filling my hole all the way up ... filling me up so full I-I-Oh, Roger ... harder, nice and harder."

Sheila was pulling with both hands on Roger's ever-pumping ass now, tugging with all her might, arching her back, her face contorted in what resembled agonizing pleasure, ramming her pelvis at his and screaming for him to finish her. Watching, Norma was amazed that a fourteen-year-old girl could be so orgasm conscious. She apparently had considerably more experience under her belt sexually than most girls her age.

"I'm fucking as hard as I can," Roger cried back. "It's so tight and hot and I'm ready to come ... Sheila. Oh, Sheila. Are you coming, too? Are you? Are you?"

"Oh, yes ... yes ... It never felt this good before! Yes ... fuck as hard as you can ... there ... there ... oh, therrrreeeee ... Yesssss..."

"Me toooooo!" Roger wailed, plunging at a rapid-fire buttocks burst. He stopped then, ceased his plunging and lay gasping for breath with his cheek against Sheila's. Both of them lay panting and shuddering.

Norma reached her own clitoral orgasm and although it was not the most intense she had ever experienced it was strong enough so that her legs went weak beneath her and she had to grab the wall for support. Gasping, she stared at the youngsters, spent and satiated on the couch. She hoped they hadn't stained the beige couch with any of their love fluid. She stared at them, panting and frowning. She was startled that such young lovers could manage a simultaneous orgasm. It seemed absolutely incredible ! She shook her head in amazement. When it came time to make love with her son she would be facing more competition than she had anticipated ... much more. These damned kids today were becoming so sophisticated one never knew what to expect of them next.

She went back to her room and lay on her bed. When Sheila had left she would make her appearance; Roger, though surprised, would never guess she had watched him making love. She would tell him she'd been taking a nap. She lay there trying to decide when and how to approach her son sexually. Certainly she couldn't make any overtures tonight. He had just spewed forth his seed and would not be receptive. She would wait a few days and let his young and eager body store up sexual energy once again. She wanted him ready and craving release. Then the comparison between herself and that younger girl would be negligible. Sheila, she thought, silently mouthing the name. She didn't much care for the name-no, not at all. It was an ugly name. She would have to express her disapproval of the girl somehow and turn Roger's interest in her elsewhere. But how?

She would have to think of something tomorrow. Right now she must plan the time, place, and method of the sexual encounter with her son-her wonderful, wonderful son. She mustn't frighten him. No, that would prove disastrous if not catastrophic. Their love-session would have to arise naturally-as simply and as naturally as the rising of the male organ itself-and it would have to be both memorable and totally guiltless for Roger because Norma Dunham wanted their new relationship to be continuing, to endure and grow beautiful and satisfying for both of them over the years.