Now That Daddy's Gone Ch. 01

Now

Peter Balfour tied his horse to the hitching rail outside of his family’s small farmhouse and slapped his Stetson against his thigh to remove the dust. He watered the horse, took off the tack and led the animal to the barn. He was dirty, dry and tired; it had been a long day. He stretched and then smiled as he smelt the delicious aroma of dinner wafting from the open kitchen window. A strapping lad of nineteen he could just about eat his weight in groceries his mother often said.

As he opened the back door the smell of something appetising increased and mingled with the scent of his mother’s perfume. She had her back to him fussing with something on the kitchen bench. She was wearing a red, knee-length, A-line, pleated, round-neck, dress. It had white polka dots and was sleeveless to show off her tanned arms. She wore red four-inch high heels and seamed flesh-toned stockings. Peter admired the seams running up the back of her long legs.

His mother spun around and smiled at him through red-lipsticked lips and his heart melted. She was wearing full makeup, earrings and a necklace and her black hair was worn in a bob with bangs just above her big blue eyes.

Peter’s father insisted that his wife dress to please him for dinner and greet him like a devoted, loving wife should and even now that he was gone Meg Balfour thought there was no reason for her not continue doing so. Her son deserved it after all.

“Hi Petey did you have a good day?” his mother’s smile widened.

“Yes mom, I managed to get that last acre sown. I figure we should get one hundred and twenty bushels out of it,” Peter smiled back.

He was lying, he’d done the sowing the day before and he’d had another matter to attend to today.

“Come give your mother a kiss,” she opened her arms wide.

Peter strode across the kitchen and leaned into his mother and kissed her cheek. She smelled wonderful and her full breasts pressed against his chest. She closed her arms around his neck and her lips found his, she opened her mouth so that Peter could probe her with his tongue.

“My god you’re so hard Petey,” she gasped in his ear and squeezed him through his jeans.

“Step back and show me what I want to see mom,” Peter sighed and nipped her earlobe.

She reluctantly disengaged from her son and leaned back against the kitchen bench and smiled coyly at him.

“What is it you want to see Petey?” she licked her lips and smiled seductively.

“You damn well know what I want to see mother,” Peter said gruffly.

Meg took the hem of her dress in her hands and ever so slowly lifted it up her legs. Peter gasped when the coffee-coloured bands at the top of her stockings came into view, the silver clasps of her garters pulled the welts tight against his mother’s legs. Then her creamy thighs came into view and finally the Vee of her white nylon panties. The panties were translucent and not particularly tight, he could see his mother’s trimmed bush through them. Dewy pearls of vaginal secretions glistened on her pubis.

She was aroused, as she always seemed to be in his presence.

Peter stepped forward and lightly stroked her panties.

“You’re wet,” he stated the obvious.

“For you son,” his mother whispered.

He could sense the heat from her mound and the aroma of her cunt drifted up to his nostrils.

“You know I love those stockings,” he murmured.

“For you son,” she repeated as she reached for his flies.

The sound of Meg unzipping her son’s fly was almost ominous in the quiet of the kitchen. There was no one else around for miles, the only sounds came from the farm animals and the afternoon breeze.

“Oh gee you are so big,” his mother gasped as she unleashed his manhood and took it in a firm grip.

“Bigger than dad?” Peter pushed his fingers against his mother’s pubis.

“Much bigger,” she gasped as her son’s fingers pushed her panties into her vulva, they soaked up some of her juices.

Peter extricated his fingers from her panties and stroked her labia and then inserted two fingers inside his mother, his thumb found her clitoris and pressed against it just the way she liked it. She had taught him how to do so. She pulled her son to her by his shaft. Peter liked to see her red nailpolished fingers against his taut flesh.

His mother wrapped Peter’s cock in her panties and stroked him, she knew he loved the feel of the gossamer nylon panties on his sensitive cock but she was careful not take him over the edge, he came quickly when they fucked for the first time each day. He leaned into his mother and kissed her passionately and then backed away a little.

“Let me get cleaned up mom, then we can do this in bed,” he said.

“Don’t be so obtuse Peter Balfour! You do your duty by your mother right now!” she snapped back, ripping open his shirt.

It was a little game they played, Peter had no intention of not finishing what he had started.

He lifted his mother up by her thighs and rested her buttocks on the edge of the bench and pulled the gusset of her panties out of the way and thrust himself inside her.

“Oh God!” his mother cried as she locked her legs around him.

She wrapped her arms around her son and raked his back with her fingernails then she lifted her nylon-sheathed legs and rubbed his flanks with her calves knowing it would drive him wild.

Which is exactly what it did. Peter gripped his mother by the hips and vigorously fucked her, his long thick cock coming nearly all the way out of his mother’s vagina and then slamming all the back inside her. They rubbed their pubic mounds together to stimulate Meg’s clitoris.

“Oh Jesus!” Meg bit her son’s neck and shuddered, locking him against her with her long legs.

Her orgasm washed over her as she felt her son’s huge penis throb and judder as he ejaculated inside her. Peter groaned and then his lips found hers and they kissed and lapped at each other. Meg could feel Peter’s juices running from her quivering cunt, pooling in her panties and then running run down her thighs. Peter could smell his mother’s cunt, the scent mingled with her perfume, he loved that smell.

When they were both spent, Peter eased his mother’s legs from around him and stepped back a little. He took a handful of Kleenex from the dispenser and dabbed at his mother’s sodden thatch and then at the juices running down her legs. The top of her stockings were stained with his semen and her secretions. She took a handful of tissues and wiped at her son’s slowly deflating erection. Meg pulled her panties back into place and dropped to her heels and then smoothed out her dress.

Peter put himself away and zipped up, then buttoned his shirt. They never spoke after their afternoon ritual, Peter always felt guilty and he was sure his mother did too.

Meg took out her compact and fixed her makeup and lipstick while Peter collected his things and walked over to the stairs.

“I’ll be down when I’ve had a bath,” he called to his mother.

“Don’t be long sweetie, dinner’s not far away,” she smiled at him lovingly in that sing-song voice he adored.

Peter soaked in the hot tub and improved a growing erection as he recalled how this had all come to be.

Then

In nineteen forty seven William Balfour inherited five hundred acres of farmland in the Midwest corn-belt and at twenty nine years old he was keen to marry. His farm was located thirty miles from the nearest town and he was lonely, he was an only child and his mother had passed one year before his father.

He saw Margaret Ryan in the general store in Hastings and was immediately taken with her. She was wearing her ‘visiting clothes’, a tight blue dress, nylons and heels. Her long black hair was unpinned and brushed out and she was wearing makeup. Her mother was gone and her father was keen for her to marry and deliberately made her dress her in alluring apparel in order to attract a suitable beaux.

William made small talk with her in the store until her father arrived and then William took him to the saloon and made him a proposition. William was blunt. He knew that Ben Ryan was struggling to make ends meet. William offered Ben one hundred acres of prime farm land for his daughter’s hand in marriage. Ben accepted and they set a wedding date for the end of the month.

William was allowed to court Margaret before the marriage but they were chaperoned at all times. William figured he’d made a good deal, the girl had some ‘book learning’ but she also knew enough about farming to make a good farmer’s wife. Neither Ben nor William asked Margaret if she wanted to marry and in particular did she want to marry William Balfour. Margaret, or Meg as she preferred to called, never questioned William’s right to marry her. Her father told her it would be so and so it would be.

She was actually quite excited about becoming a woman and a wife and she knew that William earned a comfortable living off his land and he seemed to be a nice man from what she had gleaned on the four chaperoned dates they had before she married.

“So did you love daddy?” Peter asked his mother as she told him the story about how she had met her husband for the umpteenth time.

“I came to love your daddy Petey. Things were different back then, a girl did what her father told her to do without question and your father is a good man,” she stroked her son’s sandy hair.

“But he has his appetites,” she said wistfully.

“He does like to eat,” Peter smiled at his mother.

“Not those sort of appetites Petey, the sort of appetites that a man has for a woman,” she turned the page of text book.

William kept his wife secluded away from the outside world. The farm was a long way from the small town and he restricted her visits to once a month and he always accompanied her. He wasn’t mean and he gave her a generous allowance out of which she was expected to purchase the necessities to keep herself pretty and desirable. He showed her pictures of his favourite actresses and lingerie catalogues models had her dress just like them.

Meg was directed to keep her figure, keep her legs and her pubic hair shaved and to always dress nicely. When she fell pregnant with Peter he was disappointed that she put on weight and lost her interest in sex during the last trimester. He told her that he wanted no more children after Peter was born. Margaret agreed on condition that she be allowed to keep Peter in school until he had a decent education and William agreed.