Meant To Be Together, I'm the One

Literotic asexstories – Meant To Be Together, I'm the One by SusanJillParker,SusanJillParker
A 40-year-old virgin has a threesome with daughter and mother.

Unable to find her, Jerry, a 40-year-old virgin, grew tired of looking for the right woman. Truth be told, with one woman possessing this quality and another woman possessing that quality, after looking so long, he wouldn’t recognize the right woman, if he tripped over her. Always striking out with the wrong woman, he made a pledge last Valentine’s Day, his 39th birthday, after spending another lonely Thanksgiving, unhappy Christmas, and uncelebrated New Year’s Eve alone, that this was the last year that he’d spend without a woman. He swore to himself that this year was the last year of his virginity.

Thinking it a big deal to be a virgin, when he was in his twenties and his friends were having sex with any available female, commendable to still be a virgin, when he turned 30-year-old, now that he’ll be 40-years-old on Valentine’s Day, being a virgin at his age is embarrassing. Even priests have more sex than him. His 18-year-old nephew is already in a sexual relationship and his 19-year-old niece is pregnant, again. Only, even with his best plans made to get laid, what suddenly got in the way of him having a hot date with an attractive woman and losing his virginity, before Valentine’s Day was his best friend, Dan, dying of a sudden heart attack. Just a few years older than he was, taking stock of his own miserable life without a special someone, the reality of death hit him hard and just as Jerry didn’t want to die alone, he didn’t want to die a virgin. Yet, his pledge to lose his virginity will have to wait, until after Dan’s funeral on Valentine’s Day. A day typically saved for love has given its way to death.

Invited to spend the night, before starting his long drive home the next morning, Jerry was an overnight guest at his recently deceased best friend’s house, after having attended his funeral on his uncelebrated 40th birthday. A childhood friend, he had known Dan all his life, before losing touch with him the past few years. Now alone with his widow, Elaine, and their 24-year-old daughter, Amanda, it was no secret that Jerry had always lusted over the both women. Nothing new there, with him being a 40-year-old virgin, Jerry lusted over any women wearing a skirt. In his defense, Dan’s wife and daughter were striking beauties.

Two, hot blonde bombshells, sometimes difficult to tell one from the other, especially from behind, at 45-years-old, Elaine was young enough appearing and hot enough looking to be Amanda’s identical twin sister. With Amanda looking more mature than her years and looking older and with Elaine watching her figure, exercising, and looking younger, both women looked 30-something-years-old. Of course, Jerry the horn dog that he has become, wouldn’t mind losing his virginity to Dan’s widow, Elaine. She was a nice piece of ass. Besides, they always had a mutual attraction for one another and, perhaps, with Dan out of the picture, as a physical way for both of them to grieve, rebound sex from a grieving widow may be me just what he needed on his birthday, Valentine’s Day, the day of love and sex, to lose his virginity.

When Dan was alive, knowing that Jerry was a confirmed bachelor and an admitted virgin, his wife Elaine unmercifully teased him. Nothing more than touchy feely and a bit of kissing, along with a bit of desperate groping, after a long night of drinking, Elaine allowed him to feel her tits and finger her nipples through her blouse and bra, while she fondled his cock through his pants. Then, when in the deep, dark end of the pool, she allowed him to go up her bikini top and suck her nipples and down her bikini bottoms to finger her pussy, while she stuck her horny hand down his bathing trunks to fondle, squeeze, and stroke his cock, before submerging herself body beneath the water to take his cock in her mouth. Innocent, albeit erotic fun, always flaunting her sexy body and showing him her panties with up skirts peeks and her bra with down blouse views, too obvious in her intent to seduce him, even in front of her husband, Jerry suspected that Dan approved of Elaine flashing him. If nothing else, after Elaine flashed him and they fondled one another the entire night, he left their house with lots of masturbation fodder.

Knowing Dan as well as he did, he imagined that Dan and Elaine discussed all that she showed him, all that she did, and all that she allowed Jerry to see, feel, and do during some hot pillow talk that night. Fixing him up with women that he knew, Dan had always kidded him about his virginity, but Jerry remained steadfast in holding out for the right woman. Putting his career ahead of his nonexistent sex life, now that he was 40-years-old, now that he had pledged to lose his virginity, he was ready to finally have sex with a woman, rather than with his hairy hand.

No doubt, had Dan lived, as a way to finally pop his cherry, it wouldn’t have surprised him, if Dan asked him to watch him having sex with Elaine, after inviting him to their bed. Then, a few years ago, Dan’s daughter, Amanda, on her 21st drunken birthday bash, started in on the flashing fun, too, when she accidentally, no doubt, on purpose, lost her bikini top in the pool and walked around topless in front of everyone, while pretending she didn’t know her bikini bra was floating in the water.

C’mon, are you kidding me? Give me a break. How could she not know she was topless? Jerry suspected that Dan and/or Elaine told their daughter that he was a virgin, obviously, which was why she started teasing him, too. Admittedly a bit inebriated, Amanda walked around the backyard topless, while flaunting her sexy body and exposing her tits for ten minutes to him, her mother, her father, and her friends, before acting shocked and embarrassed, and before diving in the pool to retrieve her bra.

With the sight of her beautiful breasts in plain view, while trying not to let her catch him staring, he wasn’t about to tell her that she was topless. Already having lusted over her, before she even lost her top, he spent countless nights masturbating over the thoughts of touching, feeling, fondling, and sucking Amanda’s big breasts, while she was on her knees sucking his cock. Before Amanda flaunted her topless body, he’d give anything to fuck Dan’s wife, that is, until his thoughts now turned to having sex with Dan’s sexually uninhibited, provocatively adventurous, and daring daughter.

Truth be told, if only for the sake of comparison, and in some perverse memory of his decease friend, he always wanted to do both mother and daughter. Yet, true to his commitment to abstain from sex, until he met the right woman, now with Dan gone, with two available and attractive women before him, maybe he already has. Having sex with Elaine and/or Amanda separately or at the same time would be his sexual fantasy come true. Fucking one, while eating the other, before having them switch, as if they were a female wrestling tag team and he was the referee, he’d love to see them both naked and on their knees in front of him together, while sucking his cock. Knowing that his mother and daughter sexual fantasy would never happen, knowing he’d never have sex with Elaine or Amanda, he always fantasized, while masturbating, what it would be like to have one or the other or both of these hot women in bed together. Now that Dan is gone and he’s alone with his women, maybe this is his chance.

Awake most of the night with mixed emotions, sadness, while thinking of his best friend dying of a sudden heart attack and horniness, while thinking of being alone in the house with his best friend’s hot wife and slutty daughter, he awoke with an erection, when his thoughts turned from suffering sorrow to having first time sex with his best friend’s wife and/or daughter. Unable to sleep and in the mood for a drink, he went downstairs for a beer, when the scent of Amanda’s perfume wafted through the hall and drifted by his guestroom door. She smelled delicious. Hoping to run into one of them, mother or daughter, hoping to catch them wearing nothing but a smile, he hoped one or the other was feeling just as randy and sexually adventurous, as he was. Hoping that one or both of them subscribed to the medication that he prescribed and possessed, hoping that mother and/or daughter would give him the best birthday gift on Valentine’s Day, he wondered if they realized that, sometimes, the best way to cope with tragedy is to have hot sex with an appreciative, albeit 40-year-old virgin.

Knowing she was downstairs, by the fresh scent of her perfume, he surprised Amanda, when he turned on the kitchen light. No doubt, hearing him coming down the stairs, but for the soft glow of her cigarette, she was sitting at the kitchen table in the dark, while having a cup of tea. Being the horn dog that he is, the first thing he noticed was her barely there nightgown. Low cut and short, covered in see through lace, her nightgown was as transparent as his horniness was heightened and engorged by the sight of her nearly naked loveliness. Obviously, with her coming downstairs without a bathrobe, while knowing there was a male guest in the house, especially after she, no doubt, purposely lost her bikini top in the pool and flashed him her breasts three years ago, like mother like daughter, he figured her for the exhibitionist that her mother was. With both women equally as hot as they were willing, if Amanda was intent on showing what she had by wearing such a revealing nightgown, then he was intent on looking.

“Hi,” he said breathing out his word, with a hungry look, as if he was drooling over the steak that the waiter just brought to his table.

“Hi,” she said with disinterest, cocking her head one way to look at him and fouling him with her bad mood, before looking the other away to pollute the room with a cloud of blue cigarette smoke.

With her hair brushed in place and wearing makeup, even earrings, looking as if she never went to bed, but for the cigarette and her tattoos, she looked like an innocent bride on her honeymoon. He wondered why she’d be wearing makeup at two in the morning. Was she hoping he’d come downstairs? Was she hoping to get him alone? Was she hoping he’d see her in her barely there nightgown? Did she want to flash him her hot body, as much as he wanted to see her hot body? Did she want him, as much as he wanted her?

He stared as much at the amount of cleavage she was showing, as she shot him furtive glances at the bulge in his pajama bottoms. Tit for cock, the more he looked, the more she looked. As if she was a thousand dollar hooker and he was a deep pocketed John, flushed with cash, the air was suddenly thick with sexual desire. Already proud, while carrying around his morning wood, but for a tee shirt that hugged his muscular body, he wasn’t wearing any underwear. With the head of his erection rubbing against the inside of his pajama bottom, he hoped his one-eyed Jack would pop out of his pajama and make his excited appearance known. Serendipitously introducing himself, his cock was his not so subtle compliment of seeing her in her sexy nightgown and his way of showing Amanda how much he not only appreciated how much she was showing but also how much he wanted her.

Knowing she was no virgin, when she unabashedly paraded around him in her teeny tiny bikini earlier in the day, an unusually warm day, even for Las Vegas in February, immediately after her father’s funeral, he wished she’d lose her bikini top in the way she did the last time they met. After seeing her in her bikini, wondering if she had a preference, he couldn’t help but notice her tramp stamp on her lower back that read any hole will do. Obviously, she was every bit of the wild slut that her mother was. Dan told Jerry stories of Elaine cheating on him with younger men and women. It excited Dan to know that his wife was so wanted by both sexes. An open marriage, so long as she told him all the sexy details of the affairs, who, when, where, and everything else in between, and so long as she gave him hot pillow talk, while giving even hotter sex, he was okay with Elaine taking other lovers.

A bold move and a risk he was willing to take to be with this exceptionally rare, albeit slutty beauty, he wondered what Amanda would do, if suddenly confronted by his exposed, erect prick. Would she stare? Would she look away? Would she be shocked and run from the room screaming for her mother? Would she reach her hand out to touch it, stroke it, and suck it? Maybe she doesn’t dig older men or maybe, now that Daddy’s dead, looking for a new Daddy, she does.

“What are you up so late?”

Jerry got a beer out of the fridge, popped the top, took a long sip, and walked over to the kitchen table. He stood over Amanda to enjoy her down nightgown view, as if hovering in a low helicopter, while enjoying the exciting view of the hotels that lit up the Vegas strip. As if peering down the vast drop from the top of the Hoover Dam, he peered down her open nightgown top, while waiting for her to answer. Overwhelming his eyes with roundness, his cock throbbed at the sight of her exposed breasts. With cleavage that rivaled Salma Hayek’s perfect breasts, big, symmetrical boobs run in their family. Just as Elaine has a rack, Amanda has beautiful knockers, too.

A confirmed breast man, he’d loved to touch, feel, fondle, and suck her big tits, while fingering, pulling, and twisting her hard nipples. Only, wishing she would, if she leaned forward, just a little more, he’d have a nice down nightgown view of her areolas and nipples, too. Knowing he was looking and, no doubt, knowing all that she was showing and all that he was seeing, when she looked down at herself, without closing her nightgown top, obviously, she didn’t care that he could see most of her breasts. Then, just as he figured she would, on the pretense of moving closer to the table to take a slow sip of her tea, she leaned forward to give him a better and longer down nightgown view of her breasts. Obviously, she wanted him to see her big tits, as much as he wanted to see her big tits and he did.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said, after a sip of her tea and a long, soulful and mindless suck of her cigarette.

Watching her take her cigarette to her lips with her manicured fingertips, he wished it was his cock she was holding and sucking. Always envious of Brad Pitt, she had full, red lips like Angelina Jolie’s full, red lips. Lips that he’d love to kiss and lips that he’d love to feel sliding up and down his cock, while leaving red lipstick marks, as if measuring how much water a boat took at sea, he was just as mesmerized by Amanda’s lips, as he was by her breasts. Oh, yeah, he’d love for this sexy bitch to suck his prick, while he fondled her big tits. Knowing Dan was a fan of reading incest stories, especially father and daughter stories, he wondered if he ever had sex with his daughter. Now no longer hiding her intentions with furtive glances, he watched Amanda look up and stare at his bulge, before blowing her cigarette smoke at his cock and before looking up to make eye contact with him.

“I couldn’t sleep either,” he said stopping himself from saying anymore. Not wanting to ruin the mood, he wanted to say that he couldn’t sleep because he was thinking of Dan, before he said that he couldn’t sleep because he was thinking of her.

Using this chance, early morning meeting, as his perfect opportunity to get her alone, he decided to take the chance to see, if she was as interested in him as he was in her. Stepping closer to stand a mere foot away from her, with her mouth so close to his pajama clad cock that, if his erect prick poked out of his pajama bottom and he leaned forward just a few inches, at the same time, his prick would impale her lipstick clad mouth. Wanting it to happen, hoping his cock would accidentally on purpose appear, he voluntarily pulsated his cock to make it grow bigger and harder, while hoping that it would make its way out of his pee-hole opening. Every time his cock moved, catching the throbbing movement out of the corner of her eye, he watched her eyes turn to look at his pulsating bulge. His captive audience to his pajama puppet show, just as he was mesmerized by her tits, she seemed captivated by his dick.

“Is that for me?” As if his erect prick was a pesky fly that bothered her, she flicked his cock with her manicured fingers and nearly knocked it out of the opening, before dumping her cigarette ashes on his pajama clad bulge.

Nice. Oh, yeah, Dan brought her up right. Like mother like daughter, she was one class act. All she needed was a g-string, tassels on her nipples, and a pole between her legs to top off the slutty image that he had of her. Suddenly seeing her on stage, the thought of her making love to a pole, while stripping off her clothes, hardened his cock. Except for still wanting Dan’s wife, never had he wanted anyone, as much as he wanted Dan’s daughter.

“It is, if you’re interested,” he said looking down at his erect prick, before making eye contact with her and before putting a hand to his hip and sticking out his pelvis in his best Captain Morgan pose.

Wanting to just put a hand to her blonde head, he couldn’t believe she touched his pajama clad cock with her fingertips. He couldn’t believe she dumped her cigarette ashes on his erection. Then, as his cock grew bigger and stiffer, with one big pulsating push, as if this was meant to be and as if she was he one, it happened. His cock popped out of his pajama bottom and, just in the way that Amanda pretended she hadn’t noticed her lost bikini top, Jerry pretended that he didn’t know his cock was so exposed, sticking straight out of his pajama bottom, and pointing at her mouth.

With his throbbing and bobbing elephant trunk in the room, just inches away from her mouth, Amanda turned and stared at his cock, before looking up at him, and then turning away with disinterest. He couldn’t imagine the number of cocks she must have sucked for her to be so cavalier about seeing his cock. He would have preferred had she feigned a bit of shocked surprise or slutty appreciation, while staring at his exposed prick.

“Nice cock, Jerry and I’m flattered by your obvious excitement but, really, I’m not interested,” she said briefly making eye contact with him, before staring down at his exposed prick again and before looking away to pay more attention to her cigarette than to him. “I’m sure my mother would like to suck on that for you, though, if you take it and yourself up to her room. No doubt, she’ll be expecting you,” she said exhaling her coldness with her cigarette smoke. “Never making any secrets about her sexual attraction to men and women, for that matter, especially younger men and women, she’s always had a special attraction for you,” she said turning her head to stare at his hairy, one-eyed monster.

“I’d rather be with you, Amanda,” he said hoping she’d reconsider his stiff offer. Now knowing, after Amanda’s confession, how her mother feels about him, that if she rejected him, he could always go upstairs to Elaine’s room and finally keep his pledge to lose his virginity on Valentine’s Day, albeit a day late.

“Put that thing away,” she said dismissing him with a wave her hand and a flick of her head and hair.

She looked away, while taking another drag of her cigarette, before squashing her butt in the ashtray in the way she had just squashed his chances of bedding her. When he didn’t move to cover his exposed erection, she stood, walked to the sink, and dumped the rest of her tea. Then, with her hand pushing away at his cock, as if it was a subway turnstile, she shouldered her way past him.

“So what do you say?” Encouraged that the side of her hand brushing by his cock, Jerry took a step closer to her. “Don’t you want to give Jerry, Jr. a kiss, a squeeze, a stroke, and a suck?”

“I’d rather eat bugs,” she said stopping to turn back to look at him, before staring down at his cock again. “Suddenly, I’m bored. I’m going to bed,” she said with a haughty lift of her pretty, blonde head and a toss of her long, straight, blonde hair.

“Bitch,” he said depositing his beer on the kitchen table and reaching out for her, as she brushed by him. “You little cockteaser, coming downstairs dressed in your barely there nightgown and made-up, as if you’re attending a dance at the Playboy Mansion Playmate party. Who do you think you’re kidding? You want me, as much as I want you,” he said taking her in his arms, pushing her forward against his cock with a handful of her ass, and kissing her hard.

Pushing him away and wiping his kiss from her mouth, she rejected him again. After already having made his intentions known by exposing his cock to her and now by grabbing her ass and kissing her, he didn’t want to ruin his opportunity to finally lose his virginity. As if he was on Dancing with the Stars, he reached down, grabbed at the bottom of her nightgown, and twirled her around, as she walked by him to leave the kitchen. In one quick over her head pull and another hard tug that pulled her nightgown from her grasp, as if taking the wrapper off of a fine Cuban cigar without damaging the contents, her nightgown was off and she was naked. Having not seen the full naked impact of them in three years, he had forgotten what amazing breasts she had, so round, so full, and her nipples so pink. She had a blonde, trimmed pussy that he’d just love to lick and fuck. Who better to lose his virginity with than with sexy and slutty Amanda?

“Jerry,” she said, while covering her C cup breasts with her forearm and her pussy with her hand. “Don’t do this. This is rape.”

“Rape my ass,” he said with a diabolical laugh. “Had I not made my move first, after you finished your tea and cigarette, you’d be coming up to my room. You’d be the one raping me.”

“Is this the kind of man you are?” Cowering from him, she stepped away from his grasp. “With your best friend dead, you prey on his daughter?”

“We all can use a little comfort, during a time like this, Amanda,” he said stepping close and reaching out to hold her.

“My blanket in my room is all the comfort that I need. Get out of my,” she said reaching for her nightgown that Jerry had tossed on the kitchen chair.

With one hard downward push of her shoulder, she was on her knees, eye to eye with his one-eyed monster. When she didn’t immediately take the not so subtle hint to take him in her mouth, and when she tried to stand, as if pulling open a trapdoor by an attached chain, he pulled hard on her long, blonde hair.

“Ow!”

As soon as she opened her mouth to scream, with a forward pull of her blonde head, a hump of his hips, and a forward thrust of his cock, he filled her mouth with all of him. With Amanda on her knees, holding her in place, Jerry had a hand on each side of her pretty, little head. Humping her face and fucking her mouth, he was using her, as if she was a live blowup doll. Overruling her resistance, he could feel the pressure of her warm, wet tongue circumnavigating his cock, as if it was a soft propeller. Even in his wildest sexual fantasy about her, even after masturbating so many time about having sex with Amanda, never had he imagined how hot it would feel to have Dan’s daughter suck his cock.

“Suck my cock, bitch. Suck it, you little slut. Suck my prick, Amanda. I need to cum in Daddy’s little girl’s mouth. Suck it! Suck it! Suck it!”

“No, let go of me, you fucking pervert,” she said pushing his cock out of her mouth, just long enough to speak, before he pulled her hair again and stuffed his cock back in her mouth again.

A game that she obviously needed to play, as his unwilling victim, if she wanted to flee, he’d allow her to go, but he could tell that she was enjoying this sudden sexual struggle, as much as he was. Pushing against him to spit him from her mouth and to get to her feet to make good her getaway, as soon as she ejected his cock from her mouth again, she stood and paused, to voice her contempt, before turning to leave.

“You filthy pig,” she said slapping his face and pounding on his muscular chess with no effect.

Truly knowing that she wanted this, as much as he did, if she didn’t she would have run from the room, instead of stopping to hit him. He grabbed her by her hair, spun her around and, as if about to give her a rectal exam, bent her forward in the doggie style position. With a hand filled with as much lustful desire as was his cock, he reached down between her legs and grabbed a handful of her blonde pussy. Cupping her cunt, before sticking his fingers inside of her to fondle her clit and finger fuck her hole, he titillated her desire for him.

“Either you peed yourself or you really want me,” he said with a laugh, while probing her deeper with one finger and rubbing her bean harder and faster with another. “For someone so unwilling, Amanda, you’re so wet.”

Just as he had suspected, always playing the innocent, coy virginal victim, the little slut was already sopping wet. Reaching around her, with a big tit in each hand and fondling them, her nipples were already erect, when he fingered them. With no better time to lose his virginity than now, a mere few hours after his pledged Valentine’s Day and 40th birthday promise to himself, with no better woman to break his cherry, than with his deceased best friend’s slutty daughter, he grabbed Amanda by her hips, pushed hard, and ended his virginity with a hump.

In a quick hump, he was inside of her. With several hard trusts, sliding his cock in an out, as if humping the air, while fast dancing in a disco, nearly banging her head against the kitchen wall, he was already deep inside of her.

“Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh, Jerry, don’t stop. That feels so good. Harder. Faster. Just don’t stop. Oh, my God. Oh, my God.”

A longtime dream to fuck his best friend’s daughter, filled with years of pent up sexual passion and desire for Amanda, his sexual fantasy had finally come true. Fucking her, banging her, and slamming his cock deeper and harder in her pussy, he was getting ready to unload all the lust he had for Amanda in her pussy, before deciding to make her blow him again. Having never experienced the warm, wet softness of a woman’s pussy before, he couldn’t believe how good it felt to fuck Amanda. Oh, yeah, just as she was good looking enough that he’d never grow tired of fucking her and she sucking him, she was good looking enough that he could cum twice in this slut, first in her pussy and again in her mouth.

“Hey! What are you think you’re doing? Get away from my daughter, you filthy pig.”

He turned and Elaine was standing behind him with a frying pan ready to conk him in the head. He lifted his arm and deflected her hit, just as she let him have it on the shoulder with the pan.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m fucking your any hole will do slut of a daughter,” he said with a toothy grin.

“How dare you? With his body still warm, just buried in the ground, how dare you rape your best friend’s daughter. How dare you hurt my baby girl? Get out! Get out of my house,” she yelled slapping him on the back and shoulders, while his cock was still deeply buried in Amanda.

“Rape? She wanted me as much as I wanted her,” he said pulling himself out of Amanda. “Like mother like daughter, she’s nothing but a cock tease.”

Figuring that Victoria Secrets had a two for one sale, just as Amanda was wearing a flimsy, see-thru nightgown, so wasn’t Elaine wearing one, too. With her full breasts as exposed as Amanda’s big tits and with her standing in the brightly lit kitchen, he could clearly see the dark impression her nipples and blonde patch of trimmed pubic hair made in the nightgown. It was finally so hot to see all that he imagined for so long.

Jerry let go of Amanda to grab hold of Elaine, when she raised the frying pan over her head again. He wrestled the frying pan from her hand and just as he did with Amanda, he took her in his arms and kissed her hard, while pressing her body against his with a handful of her round, firm ass. Then, when he let go of her, never expecting her to slap him, but expecting her to want him, as much as Amanda did, she surprised him, when she stepped back and slapped his face.

“How dare you fuck my daughter,” she said looking as if she wanted to add, instead of me.

“Ow, you bitch. That hurt,” he said, unprepared for it and not expecting it, while rubbing his face.

Knowing full well that she wanted him, as much as he wanted her, knowing full well that she was, no doubt, jealous that he was with her daughter, instead of her, he returned the favor and slapped her face harder. Her resistance crumbled with the loud slapping sound the side of her face made against his big hand and his cock hardened as much as her face brightened against the imprint of his fingers that temporarily tattooed to her face.

Instead of having a look of shocked surprise, instead of having a look of shame or anger, and a face full of tears, she had a look of lust. Her look of passion revealed that she wanted more than just a slap, but a bang. With one quick lift of her hem and a hard pull of her material, he ripped off Elaine’s nightgown, too. Then, spinning her around, as if she had been a bad girl, a very bad girl, he slapped her ass hard, first one cheek and then the other. Now with both mother and daughter naked, he took a step back to get an eyeful of Elaine’s C cup breasts and trimmed blonde pussy. While Amanda bit her lip in sexual revelation, Elaine rubbed her ass with sexual desire. With Amanda’s face flushed from just having had the fuck of her young life and Elaine’s face and ass red by the slap of Jerry’s hand, like daughter, just like mother, they could have been identical twin sisters.

Obviously embarrassed to have been stripped naked, so physically assaulted, and sexually abused in front of her daughter, on the pretence of saving her self-image, she slapped him, she kicked him, and she punched him. Yet, determined to have his sexy way with mother in the wicked way he just did with daughter, with a forceful push to her shoulder, he forced Elaine down to her knees and filled her mouth with his still glistening, sticky wet cock. Only, unlike Amanda, as if his cock was her all day sucker, Elaine was a willing, if not aggressive participant. As soon as his cock was near her lips, she willingly opened her mouth and welcomed his cock inside. Damn, both of these women were experienced cocksuckers.

Then, when he buried his cock in her mouth and put a gentle but forceful hand to the back of her head, she wrapped her hand around his engorged prick and started stroking him, first lovingly and then faster. The fact that his cock had just been in Amanda’s pussy and was now in Elaine’s mouth was not lost on him. While sucking him, as if she was a Las Vegas show girl, she made all the cock sucking slurping sounds that all men love to hear to show that the woman is enjoying sucking their cock, as much as the man is enjoying having his cock sucked. Unable to decide and calling it a tie, he couldn’t tell which was the better cocksucker mother or daughter. No doubt, now knowing the reason for his friend’s sudden heart attack, if Dan was fucking both his wife and daughter, then he must have died a happy and sexually satisfied man.

“Suck my cock, Elaine. Suck it! Suck my cock. Suck your daughter’s pussy juices off my big, hard prick. That’s right, take it deeper. Lick it and suck it. Blow me, baby. I need to cum in your pretty mouth.”

As if a contestant in a Japanese sexual game show, impatiently waiting her turn, Amanda watched her mother give Jerry the blowjob that he wanted and obviously needed. Watching Amanda out of the corner of his eyes to make sure that she didn’t conk him with a frying pan, too, she surprised him, when she walked over to him and stuck her tongue down his throat, while her mother still sucked his prick. Kissing and kissing him, he felt Amanda’s big tits and fingered her erect nipples, while Elaine was an unadulterated cock sucking machine.

Then, he couldn’t believe his eyes, when Amanda leaned down, moved Elaine’s mouth away from his cock and French kissed her mother, while feeling her breast and fingering her nipple. He watched Elaine return her daughter’s kiss with as much passion, while fingering Amanda’s pussy. Now, this is one sexy daughter does mother show, that Jerry would willing give up a blowjob to watch. Finally, his sexual fantasy come through, he was going to have his mother and daughter threesome.

“Let’s go upstairs, Mommy,” said Amanda to her mother, as if they had done this before. “We’ll all be more comfortable in Daddy’s bed. You’re invited, too, Jerry,” she said taking Jerry’s cock in her hand and pulling him along by his stiff, wet penis.

* * * * *

“Oh, hello. I didn’t know you were standing there. Have you been there long? You’re here, no doubt, to read my story, Meant To Be Together, I’m the One, about a 40-year-old virginal man, me, who’s sexual fantasy is to have sex with not only a beautiful, sexy daughter but also a hot MILF of a mother, too

Sorry. This is so very embarrassing, you caught me masturbating, while watching a porn flick. This is my favorite video, Mother and Daughter Does Daddy’s Virginal Best Friend. Having a threesome with a mother and daughter has always been my sexual fantasy, that is, so long as they’re both hot. If ever I could find such a situation, one in a million, I imagine, I’d be a happy man and would live the rest of my life in sexual bliss.

Yet, before I launch into the story, allow me to introduce myself, along with the elephant in the room. I’m Bob and, just like in the porn flick, I’m not proud to admit that I’m a 40-year-old virgin. Having just caught me masturbating, I’ll understand you not wanting to shake my hand. There it is. I wrote it. I’m out of the closet. I’m a 40-year-old virgin. Now, let’s get on with the story.”

* * * * *

Feeling as sexually backward as I felt nerdy back in high school, I’m not proud of the fact that I never had sex with a woman and, in hindsight, even though I had offers that may have led to opportunities to have an intimate, sexual relationship with a woman, sex never happened. I’m the type of guy that a woman would have to burn me with a cigarette for me to notice her and hit in the back of the head with a baseball bat for me to see that she was coming on to me. Yet, now that I’m as focused on sex, as I was on my education and my career, with so many women flirting with me, while accidentally but, no doubt, intentionally flashing me their panties in up skirts and bras in down blouses, in hindsight, I can now see all the missed opportunities that I had not to be a 40-year-old virgin. Without doubt, it’s my fault that I’m a virgin and I accept the blame.

In the way that most men dream about naked women, in the way that most men fantasize about being fucked and sucked, I dreamt about solving mathematical equations and scientific theories. In the way that most men lust over having sex with every available woman, I lust over earning my Ph D. and winning the Nobel Prize. Always too focused on school, going from undergraduate to graduate school and earning my bachelors degree and then my masters degree in quick succession, and now ingrained in my job at the research center, I never had time for sex, that is, other than with my hairy, right hand.

Embarrassed to admit it, never having lived alone, when my Dad died, I lived with my mother, until recently, but that’s another story for another time. Now the captain of my own ship and the wizard of my own destiny, whether a girlfriend or a wife, except for Mom, I’ve gotten used to not having the complications of a woman in my life. Even though I’m terribly horny, except for the loving and totally innocent, albeit naked games that I played with my mother behind closed doors, I’ve grown accustomed to not having sex. Besides, even though I hate to write this because, being a scientist that believes more in the Big Bang than it the Holy Creator, abstaining from sex, in the way of a priest, makes me somehow feel Godlier than I am. Just in case there is a Holy Creator, maybe I’ve already scored some points with him or her for being so innocently pure for too long.

Sex I’ve always believed, is something that people should do with the one that they love and the one they want to give a baby. Sex should never be with random women picked up in a bar. With sex part and parcel with love, in the way that protons and neutrons interact with one another in the nucleus of an atom, and in the way of my own big bang, I’d have to fall in love, before having sex. Only, sadly and frustratingly, except for my devoted mother, I don’t love anyone, yet. Instead, when not working, I spend my free time masturbating over watching my mother and daughter threesomes porn movie.

Nonetheless my perverse sexual fantasy, I desperately want to fall in love but, as unbelievably as it may sound, I don’t know how to fall in love. What’s so easy for some is so difficult for me. It’s tragically funny how someone with an advanced degree, someone who can decode a blackboard filled with mathematical formulas and equations, someone who can endlessly talk about the mysteries of the universe, doesn’t know how to fall in love, but I don’t. In the way that I’ve been so accustomed to going to class, if they had a course in how to fall in love, no doubt, I’d excel at it. If they had a university of love, I’d proudly graduate with another degree, Doctor of Love.

Now that I’m older and the king of my destiny, pretenders to the throne, as my queen to my heart, I’m surrounded by witches and bitches, women that wanted me for all the wrong reasons, including my mother. They think that just because I haven’t married and don’t have any children that I must have money and they’d be right. They think that because I have a good job and now own a beautiful home that I must be loaded and they’d be right again. They think that they can just waltz into my life and take what I worked so long and so hard to accumulate and they’d be wrong.

“Stop! Incestuous sex is wrong! No, means no, Mommy!” Sorry, I digress.

I’m nobody’s fool, especially when it comes to giving away my hard earned money for the mere sake of having sex with a woman. Sadly but perversely true, I could have had sex with my mother, but content to give her a full body massage, if you know what I mean, while she was naked and having her wash every part of me, if you know what I mean, while I was naked, except for my horny hand, I’ve never had sex with anyone, not even my mother. Even though I’ve been tempted by the more beautiful women, I just have to look in the mirror at my average, at best, face to know that they are all trying to play me to feather their nest, not so much for love but more for their financial security. They just want to use me and abuse me and once my money is gone, so will they be gone, too. I may be horny and desperate not to remain a virgin, but I’m not stupid.

Tired of celebrating Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s with just my Mom, I’m tired of everyone asking me if I have a girlfriend yet, and laughing at my expense, when I tell them that I don’t. I’m tired of everyone thinking that there’s something wrong with me or that I’m gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay, but I’m not homosexual. Then, again, even I’m scratching my head over that one. If I never had sex, how would I even know if I was gay or not? Well, that’s an easy question to answer and one that doesn’t require a blackboard to write my theories and chalk to draw my conclusions. I’m attracted to women in the way that I’m not attracted to men.

I’m weary of my friends and family trying to fix me up with women they thought I’d love to have as a girlfriend. Only, obvious after the first few minutes of boring dialogue, I have nothing in common with the women they arranged for me to meet. Wanting me all for herself, no doubt, my mother is the only person, who didn’t try to fix me up with a woman.

“There’s not a woman out there that’s good enough for my son,” my mother always said, while clutching me to her breasts.

Yet, not wanting to be known as a Mama’s boy, even though I was, staying strong not to have incestuous sex with my mother, even though she wanted me to, I rejected her, as I did all the other woman, who threw themselves at me. Saving myself for my dream woman, wherever and whoever she is, I needed to find my one and only. Better off taking control of my love life myself, now that I’m taking a break from my education to concentrate more on my research, before returning to school to earn my Ph D., and now that I’m settled in my career, it’s time I marched in step with the rest of society. It’s time I had a woman in my life. It’s time I married and had children. It’s well past the time that I lose my virginity and have sex not only for the sake of love and to make babies but also for the sake of fucking and cumming on a routine basis, other than with my hairy hand.

Leave it to me to do everything ass backwards, when all my friends did it the other way around. Having girlfriends since high school or college, they got the girl before completing their education and settling in their chosen career. I wonder, if they did a scientific study, who’d be happier, those who waited to have sex to focus more on their education and career or those, who had sex with their high school prom date, got married, and had children?

With marriage conflicting with them going to college, while I was earning my degrees, my friends were making babies. None of them have a good paying job and all of them are struggling with their finances. Yet, even in their misery, obviously envious that I’m able to live my life in the way that I want, they’ve always pressured me to find a woman, get married, and have a family. Apparently, they aren’t happy, unless I’m in the same sinking bankrupt ship and upside down in a mortgage, and financially drowning at sea, as they obviously are.

A turn off seeing those friends that married too early, now just the opposite, instead of pressuring me to find a good woman, marry, and have children, they all tell me that they wished they had waited to marry. With so very many hot women out there, they wished they had finished school. They wished they had become this or that or married that one or the other one. Now, stuck in their jobs, their marriages, and weighed down by their sad, little lives, they hope to win the lottery, as their only hope of pulling themselves out of the muck.

It’s funny how they all wish they had more money. With money not my motivation but education, I never cared as much about making money, as I more cared about my career. I more cared about my research than I cared about how much money I made. If I could afford it, should budgetary constraints at work become an issue, I’d work for free to continue my life’s work. In the way that money came natural to me, money escaped them. They tell me how lucky I am to have a career and how they wished they were me, when sometimes, especially when I’m lonely and hear the clock of my life ticking away my time on Earth, I wish I were them. Sometimes I wonder if anyone is truly happy.

Not much of a drinker and not blessed with the social dating skills that I’d, no doubt, need to woo and win a woman’s heart, instead of continuing to strike out, when trying to pick up women in bars and clubs, I decided to try one of those online dating sites. Much in the way of Brad Paisley’s music video, Online, with Seinfeld’s George Costanza, Jason Alexander, I posted my profile with an old photo and instantly had a bevy of women writing me. Figuring that I’d meet one or two nice women, someone who is much like me, a nerdy egghead, I was surprised by the immediate and overwhelming response of hot, available, and lonely women. If I did a study, plotted a graph, and charted the number of women that responded in the time frame that they responded with an algebraic equation, X times Y, well, suffice to say, just in a twenty-four hour period, that a lot of women responded to my profile.

“Wow! Look at all of these women.”

From women my age and younger to women my Mom’s age and older, cougars, now more preoccupied with playing sexy games with women online, instead of looking for love, it was fun to write anything that came to mind, that is, until I realized that the women responding to me may be doing the same thing, too. A self-defeating proposition in trying to find my love match, what good is it not being honest with them and them not being honest with me? Perhaps, as only a way to end my virginity, no doubt, by hooking up with a woman for a roll in the hay, by lying to them, I’ll never meet anyone of moral character and superior quality this way.

“Duh, how will lying about who I am and what I’m not help me to find my one and only, my special someone? It won’t. Already middle-aged, I don’t have the time to waste.”

Lonely and horny, always so very lonely and so very horny, I didn’t want to spend another winter holiday alone and humping my hand, as I just had, while watching my favorite porn movie. It was when I agreed to meet a couple of the women for lunch that I realized, just as I had lied to them about being 6’4″, having a full head of hair, and being rich, they had lied to me about being naturally blonde, busty, and beautiful. With me lying about my height, hair, and wealth, not that I was poor by any means, they lied about their hair, age, and looks, not that they were homely. Still, lying was not a good way to begin a serious relationship.

Defeating the purpose of why I was online to meet someone, I decided to start over again with the real me. I posted a new page with a new name and a more recent photo of myself. Receiving much less of a response, now the women that wrote me were more professional than slutty. Women closer to my age, able to compose grammatically correct sentences, they more had college degrees on their walls than tramp stamp tattoos on their asses.

Then, Michelle, a 35-year-old woman, who didn’t even have a picture posted, wrote me. As if two strangers passing on the sidewalk, instead of connecting online, just an innocently innocuous note, all she wrote, was one word and one syllable, “Hi.” Deciding to play her game, I replied to her e-mail. “Hi,” I said, relieved somewhat that I didn’t have to go through another long explanatory e-mail of who I was and what I was looking to find in a woman.

After reading the long winded e-mails of women, her concise note caught me off guard. Yet, to be honest, it’s impossibly difficult to connect with someone, who doesn’t post a photo of herself with her profile, never mind who doesn’t write much of a clue about herself, other than the unrevealing word, “Hi.” Without having an image of what she looked like, with all these other women sending me photos of themselves in all manner of dress and undress, I didn’t pay much attention to Michelle’s message, in the way that I paid attention to the other women with photos. Besides, I was already writing to Diane, Carol, Beverly, Mary, and Janice.

Not knowing what she looked like, I wondered if she was tall, short, shapely, heavy, beautiful, or ugly. Wanting to satisfy my curiosity that was now shrouded under a veil of mystery, looking for and hoping to find love, much in the way of looking for a black hole in the vast Milky Way, I decided to follow my instincts and answer her. The first time she responded, with only three more words and three more syllables, with brevity her strong suit, she wrote something that hit my heart more than the other five women had in all they had written.

“I’m the one,” she wrote.

What? Huh? I’m the one? What does she mean by that? She must be crazy and I thought she was when, before I even had the chance to respond to her second e-mail, she sent a third e-mail.

“We were meant to be together,” she wrote.

Comparatively speaking, a hugely more revealing e-mail, when compared to the other two, being that I’m and have always been a Star Trek fan, a Trekkie, actually, and a dedicated viewer of the award winning Big Bang Theory situation comedy on television, knowing that everything has a purpose and anything is possible in our uncharted universe, for the sake of love, I was willing to believe that I was the one and that we were meant to be together. Being the virgin that I am, with my lack of sexual experience, who was I to question her? As I do in my lab with my scientific research, I defer to those of superior intellect and, obviously, although I may have known more about the physical alignment of the planets in the universe, this woman knew more about the astrological alignment of the stars. Without doubt, by her one revealing sentence that we were meant to be together, with me having never been in love, she knew more about love than I did, so who was I to dismiss and/or question her?

“Besides, what if she’s right? What if she knows something that I don’t? What if by turning her away, by not answering her and not believing that I’m the one and that we were meant to be together, I’m changing my destiny and ruining my one and only chance at love and at getting laid.”

Willing to give her a chance, imagining something psychically paranormal happening between us, even though I didn’t have a clue what she looked like, but for her brief physical description she had posted in her bio of race, height, general weight, and hair and eye color, just as I imagined her being attractive, I imagined her being the one. Just as she already believed, I wanted to believe that we were meant to be together. Without even knowing what she looked like, being so lonely and so sexually frustrated, if only just a sexual fantasy to give more fodder to my masturbation sessions, I imagined being with her. Getting caught up in her little game that I was the one and that we were meant to be together, forsaking Diane, Carol, Beverly, Mary, and Janice that I had been corresponding with for weeks, I imagined falling in love with Michelle.

Whenever driving to work, taking my coffee and lunch break, and driving home from work, the song Michelle, by the Beatles, would come to mind and I’d sing the lyrics, as if singing the song to her. I imagined people asking us how we met. I’d tell them of how she wrote me without including a photo. I’d tell them that, at the time, I had no idea what she looked like. I’d tell them that she got my attention by telling me that I was the one and that we were meant to be together. I’d tell them that it was in the stars that we were supposed to meet and live the rest of our lives together.

“Wow! I’m the one. We were meant to be together. How romantic is that?”

Willing to forsake my search for my perfect woman, willing to defer to her better judgment, I had second thoughts. Because of the scientist that I am and in the way that I over analyze everything, I thought, did she mean that I’m the one or that she’s the one? Why were we meant to be together? How does she know that? Is that assumption just a theory or is it fact? What scientific support does she have that I or she the one and that we were meant to be together? With me being the scientist and she being the fallible human, the woman, what if she’s wrong? What if I’m not the one and we were never meant to be together?

Changing my thought process from negative to positive, going with the flow, and deferring to her more experienced judgment in matters of love and romance, my lust took over my training as a scientist and, instead of using my bigger brain to make a more informed decision, something I’ve never done before, I allowed my penis to do the thinking for me. With my cock overruling my brain, I imagined her being beautiful. I imagined her being sexy, sexual, and sensual. I imagined her giving me as much sex as I wanted. I imagined us falling in love. I imagined us getting married and having a baby. Now, convinced, I truly believed that I was the one and we were meant to be together.

It was only when I was lonely, horny, and masturbating over my favorite porn flick, Mother and Daughter Does Daddy’s Virginal Best Friend, that I wondered what her mother looked like. Admittedly and immorally, always having been sexually attracted to my mother, even more so, after my father died, I controlled and masturbated my incestuous urges away, not an easy thing to do, when Mom was so willing to cross the incestuous line. Instead, as a somewhat more appropriate person for my lust and psychological relief, in my need to fulfill my Oedipus complex, even though in my circumstance my Dad was already dead, I misplaced and transferred my sexual desire for my mother to Michelle’s mother and manifested my lust to her, even though I had no idea what she looked like either.

Having suddenly become such a pervert to fantasize about having sex with a mother and daughter, perhaps because even though I wanted to, I knew it was wrong to have sex with my mother, especially when I’ve yet to have sex with any woman. Nonetheless, not able to compare in beauty and sexuality to my mother, as a repercussion to my misplaced sexuality for Michelle’s mother, I feared that I’d may subconsciously reject Michelle, if her mother isn’t not only as hot as she is but also as sexual as is my mother. Unable to release myself for my apparent need to have a sexual relationship with mother and daughter, I feared my relationship with Michelle was doomed, before it even began.

Ah, what a perverse web I weave. What’s wrong with me? Why must it be so hard for me to get laid? Wishing I could stop thinking and just go with the flow, why must I allow my mother and now her mother, a woman I never met and don’t even know if she exists, interfere with my decision to make a love connection with Michelle?

Yet, in trying to peel away my psychological issues, as if my imagined sex life was an onion, what does my mother or her mother have anything to do with whatever relationship that develops with Michelle? I don’t know. Maybe she doesn’t even have mother. Maybe she was adopted or her mother is dead. All I know is that I’ve been working too hard and I need to relax. At this point in my life, whether for love or for lust, I really need to have sex. I really need to get laid.

Then, seeing through this ruse of love and romance with logic, I imagined Michelle being an old, wicked witch, who had cast a love spell over me for me to fall in love with her. Even though I wanted to believe that we could have a loving and sexual relationship that spanned this dimension of reality to another dimension that paralleled our universe, even though I truly wanted to believe, I wasn’t convinced that I was the one and that we were meant to be together. Still skeptical, perhaps because of the scientist in me, rejecting her theory, I needed conclusive proof that I was the one and that we were meant to be together.

I wondered. Don’t tell me that she believes we met in another life? God, I hope she’s not one of those. Either she’s a little psychic, a little crazy, or a little or a lot of both. Not wanting to be stalked by an insane women online, I was hoping she was more psychic than crazy, more beautiful than ugly, and more shapely than obese. With the excitement of meeting her winning over my caution, eager to meet her, I was interested to learn more about her.

Even without a photo of her, in hindsight, perhaps the photo would have gotten in the way of a developing an honest, open, loving, and real relationship, I was intrigued. Wanting to know why she wrote that comment that I was the one and what she meant by that comment that we were meant to be together, it was then that I took Michelle at her word and viewed her more seriously. Not even needing her photo to connect, from that point forward, we wrote regularly over the next few weeks and talked for hours at a time on the phone. Talking and writing about everything, we discovered that we had so much in common. Maybe I was the one after all and we were meant to be together.

Though I thought more than twice about doing it, wanting to be open and honest and, in hindsight, maybe revealing a little too much to her too soon, I revealed my sexual fantasy to her of having sex with mother and daughter. I even told her about my favorite porn flick, Mother and Daughter Does Daddy’s Virginal Best Friend. Unfortunately, just as I said it, I wished I hadn’t. Afraid now that she may think that I want to have sex with her mother, too, I feared she’d think less of me. I feared she think that I was a pervert and admittedly, I was, no doubt.

Before even meeting her, thinking that we had the relationship, where we could tell one another anything, when I confessed my perversion to her over the phone, I was hoping she’d confess her sexual peccadilloes to me, but she surprised me when she confessed none. By her not telling me her sexual preferences and/or perversions, figuring she didn’t have any or didn’t trust me enough to share them with me, she made me feel perversely uncomfortable and terribly self-conscious. Then, when she suddenly fell silent, before changing the subject, I knew then that I shouldn’t have told her about my sexual fantasy. I should have waited, at least, until we met in person and made a physical connection, before telling her about my sexual fantasy. Hoping I hadn’t ruined things between us and prematurely torpedoed our blossoming love/sex relationship by confessing having sex with a mother and a daughter was my sexual fantasy, silently swearing to myself to never mention my masturbation perversion and favorite porn flick ever again, I was relieved when she said what she’s been saying all along.

“You’re the one. We were meant to be together.”

Oh, my God, comfortable and unsettling at the same time for her to write that and tell me that over the telephone again, it was as if she knew me. Maybe in the way that a star shines so cosmically brightly, before becoming a red giant and a white dwarf, when its mass collapses upon itself, and before cooling to become a black dwarf, maybe we were meant to be together. Maybe in the way of the brilliance and undeniable power of a supernova, we knew one another in some other life on the far side of the universe and were meant to be together again now.

Then, when Michelle sent me a photo of her standing with her 58-year-old mother, Diane, I was shocked. Much better looking than my Mom, hard to tell one from the other, the genetics in that family is amazing. Oh, my God, Diane looked like Michelle’s older sister. Having the same pretty face, blonde hair, and hot, busty body, if I was in bed, under the blankets, and in the dark, I imagined that I wouldn’t know, if I was with mother or daughter.

“Oh, my God. Wow! No frigging way. Are you kidding me? Michelle is just a beautiful as Amanda, Dan’s daughter in my favorite porn movie, Mother and Daughter Does Daddy’s Virginal Friend, and Diane was equally as hot as Elaine, Dan’s wife.”

Could this be the relationship that I’ve been looking to have all my life. A reason for everything, is this the reason why I’m still a virgin? Remembering after I confessed my fantasy to her of having sex with mother and daughter, after she fell silent without commenting on my confession, I thought it strange that she’d send me a photo of herself with her mother. Was she teasing me by the photo or was she trying to make me see the reality of my perversion by showing me how much more desirable she was than her mother? Nonetheless, removing my imagined sexual content from the image, getting my mind out of the gutter and looking at the photo, as nothing more than a photo, I chastised myself for having perverted thoughts about Michelle’s mother, Diane. Promising myself not to think anymore about it, especially after seeing her photo, I didn’t want to ruin my relationship with Michelle, before it even began.

Truth be told, wanting to masturbate over the mother and daughter photo that Michelle sent me and feeling guilty, when I did, not wanting to ruin my first real relationship with a woman and ruin the first time meeting her mother, if I ever did, that is, depending if I hit it off with Michelle, I forced myself to concentrate more on Michelle than on her mother. I tucked the photo in my desk drawer and forgot about it. Okay, okay, I mounted the photo of Michelle and Diane to my bathroom wall for obvious reasons of convenience, if you know what I mean.

Being the somewhat typically shallow man that I am, as all men are, if Michelle looked anything like her photo, I had to meet her. Moreover, if Diane looked anything like her photo, I was interested in meeting her, too. Blonde, busty, and beautiful, Michelle had all the physical qualities I had hoped to find in a woman. The fact that her mother was hot, too, a real MILF, was a bonus. Only, after Michelle didn’t comment on my sexual fantasy confession, I needed to cool my jets over her mother. Yet, setting my perversion aside, even more than the gorgeous way that Michelle looked, a big positive, we were already best friends. Suddenly, with that one photo, our online love connection heated up with daily correspondences and phone calls that were just as revealing as the photos we exchanged. After pressuring her, I couldn’t believe it, when she sent me a photo of herself topless.

“Wow! Nice tits. Boy, she sure has a rack.” Just like Elaine was with Amanda, I wondered if Diane looked anything like Michelle topless. “Stop it! Control yourself. Forget about her mother as a potential lover and just concentrate on Michelle.”

Feeling better after my personal pep talk, the perverted man that I had become, especially after having seen my mother topless many times, if only as a matter of comparison, I only wished Michelle had sent me a topless photo of herself standing beside her topless mother, too.

“There I go again.”

In the way that Michelle had just shared a photo with me of herself topless, I knew she’d never share a photo with me of her mother topless. That’s just nasty. That’s so perverted.

“Oh, Lord,” unable to stop, I imagined the three of us in bed naked with Michelle on one side of me and Diane on the other.

In addition to having masturbated over Michelle’s topless photo several times, the image of the three of us naked and in bed together made me want to masturbate again. I’m not ashamed to admit that I masturbated not only over the thoughts of having hot sex with Michelle but also over having hot sex with Michelle’s mother, too. Admittedly, having watched my porn flick one too many times, I reminded myself that I needed to forget about Diane and concentrate more on Michelle.

Being that it was nearly Valentine’s Day, being that we were both celebrating the holiday alone, hoping to finally get a piece of the action and lose my virginity on, of all days, the official day of love, I arranged to meet Michelle on that very day of romance. Out of state, she lived quite a distance from my apartment in the city, several hundred miles away, in fact. She was renting a house in upstate New York. Hoping that I wouldn’t have to spend the night alone in a hotel, hoping she’d ask me to stay the night, something I’ve never done before, I packed an overnight bag, just in case I got lucky. Not wanting her nosy neighbors to know that she had company and was entertaining a man, she told me to pull my car around back.

A very small house with the kitchen in sight of the back door, when I pulled up to her house and walked up her back steps, I saw her through the side glass of the back door. Not hearing my car, she was standing at the kitchen sink with her back to me. As soon as I saw her, so taken with her, I forgot all about her mother.

I remember that first vision of her and that first vision of her ass, as if it was yesterday. She was wearing tight jeans that hugged and served up her buttocks, as if on a platter. Always a breast man before, suddenly, with the ass on this woman, I was an ass man, too, now. Fortunately, with her being as busty as she was curvaceously shapely, I didn’t need to make a choice of preferring her ass or her breasts. She had an abundance of both.

“Oh, my.”

About to ring the bell, I stared at her ass, as I stood at her door. As is she knew I was standing there watching her, she turned to face me. Hard to believe, with her looking so hot in her picture, she looked so much better in person. Being that her favorite color was blue, she was wearing a tight, low cut, blue top. The cavernous line of cleavage that she displayed, hinted at the excitement that lay beneath her blouse and her bra. Oh, yeah, she had big tits alright and I couldn’t wait to be invited to touch them, feel them, see them, fondle them, and suck them. With a perfect ass, a beautiful face, big jugs, and the fact that we had so much in common and had already hit it off and established a best friend relationship with our e-mails, I was now thrilled that I was the one and that we were meant to be together.

“Damn, she has big tits and an incredible ass,” I thought to myself.

Having already seen a topless photo of her, I knew she had big tits, but to see the two, large impressions her breasts made in her tight, low cut blouse, especially from the side, was so much more erotically exciting than seeing her topless. Do me a favor, I wanted to ask her, but didn’t dare, jump up and down for a minute. I just want to see something. Call me crazy, but I think women look better wearing clothes than being naked. Hiding whatever flaws they may have, clothes make what lay beneath so much more exciting and exotically erotic.

Being that it was Valentine’s day, I gave her a box of chocolates, along with dozen white roses, no doubt, something that signified my virginity. Wanting to tell her, but too embarrassed to confess, if only she knew I was a virgin, I wondered what she’d say. After all the e-mails and phone conversations we exchanged, after even admitting my mother and daughter sexual fantasy to her, the only thing that I didn’t divulge was my virginity. Not wanting to ruin my chances with her, if we hit it off, she’ll find out soon enough that I’m a virgin.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Michelle,” I said giving her the roses and the chocolates, along with a peck on the lips and a hug. It took all the self-control that I had not to reach my hand down and give her incredible ass a squeeze, but I didn’t.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Bob,” she said returning my kiss and hug. “Hopefully, this is our first Valentine’s Day of many,” she said giving me a smile that told me that she knew something that I didn’t.

She had made lunch and whatever it was we ate, I don’t remember. I was more intent on her sitting across from me than I was with the food on my plate. She wanted to show me the small town where she lived and we went for a walk after lunch. Talking, laughing, and holding hands, as if we were already boyfriend and girlfriend, even though it was cold outside, with her by my side warming my heart, I didn’t feel the chill of winter.

We had our first kiss by the edge of a picturesque duck pond. Especially, being that it was on Valentine’s Day, the first kiss couldn’t have been more romantically memorable. With her breasts pressed against my chest and her tongue buried in my mouth, with all the correspondences and photos we exchanged already lighting our fires, she kissed me with as much passion as I kissed her. If there is such a thing as love at first sight, then this was it, because I was in love.

The essence of her is all in the kiss and after having abstained from sex and after having waited for so long to finally meet someone to fall in love with, my one and only, I empathically decided that I didn’t want to be with someone that didn’t make me feel something with her kiss. I’ve had lots of first dates in my time and lots of first kisses. Typically, thinking more about my work than about the woman that I was with, a first kiss after a first date was never anything special for me. Yet, Michelle’s first kiss was electric. Without a doubt, just as I was in love with her, she was in love with me. Almost love at first contact of her soft, full lips, when she wrote me that first time that I’m the one, our first date was so romantic that now I was a true believer that we were meant to be together. A solid connection, forgetting all about my mother, her mother, and about my perverse pornographic video, love at first sight and love at first kiss, I wanted Michelle in the way that I never wanted another woman.

Having not even kissed a woman in several months, except for my Mom, imagine my excitement when we returned to the house and made out, as if we were horny teenagers babysitting. Never have I been as excited just making out with any woman. Then, when she allowed me to feel her breasts through her top, while kissing her, I was wild with desire for her.

There’s just something so very exciting about feeling a woman’s breast through her blouse and bra, especially when her nipples make their appearance in the palm of my hand. Having been a long time, since I’ve made out with a woman in the way that I was making out with Michelle, it’s been a long time, since I felt such sexual excitement. Moving along at an excited pace, with one thing quickly leading to another, once she started feeling my cock through my pants, I started feeling her big tits under her blouse and fingering her erect nipples through her bra. Then, not sensing any red lights, with green lights all the way, I started to unbutton her blouse.

Expecting her to tell me to stop, unbuttoning one slow button at a time, in between deep wet kisses, and stopping to see what each unbuttoned button revealed before continuing, when I unbuttoned the last button, I flayed open her blouse. The sight of Michelle in her pale blue, lacy bra was a sight to behold. She had the kind of deep cleavage that I couldn’t wait for her to bury my cock in, while leaning down to take my erect prick in her mouth. Oh, my God, she had such a beautiful body. Feeling the weight of her breast through her bra, first one and then the other, while running my fingers across the impressions her nipples made in her bra was so very exciting for me to do. Her tits felt so firm.

By the sheer passion of her kisses and the hard impressions her nipples made in her bra, I could tell that she was already excited. Desperate to feel and to see her naked breasts, not wanting to be too eager or aggressive, I didn’t know if I should just push up her bra or unhook it. Suddenly, afraid that I was rushing things by trying to get her topless, satisfied with my quick progress, thus far, when I decided to reach around behind her and unhook her bra is when she asked me.

“Would you like to stay the night, Bob?”

Would I like to stay the night? Is that a rhetorical question that needn’t be answered by a man, a virginal man, who has never had sex? Fuck yes, I want to stay the night and every night thereafter, are you kidding me? I’m in love.

All during my drive to her house, when first driving to meet her, I wondered how to broach the subject of spending the night. Deciding to play it by hear, hoping to maneuver my way to spend the night, I couldn’t believe it when she was the one to ask me the question. Did she want me as much as I wanted her? With me being a virgin, hard to believe that someone would want me sexually. Finally, this was it. The point of no return, I was as excited as I was nervous. So long as I continued to play my cards right, so long as I didn’t bring up my mother and daughter sexual fantasy again, my virginity was about to end.

Only, now what? Do I tell her I’m a virgin or do I pretend that I’m an experienced man of the world? She may think there’s something wrong with me, if I tell her that I’ve never been intimate with a woman, especially after admitting my sexual fantasy was to be with both mother and daughter. Gees, what I dope I was for confessing that.

Hoping to encourage her to confess her sexual idiosyncrasies, I should have known from her e-mails that she was a nice, respectable woman. After I confessed my sexual fantasy to her, I felt like the pervert that I am for trying to force my perversions upon her in hoping that I could have an intimate relationship with her mother, too. Hopefully, she forgot I confessed that I always wanted to have sex with a mother and daughter. Hopefully, after meeting me in person, she’ll think that I’m a normal, albeit virginal man, and not some pervert looking for hot sex not only with her but also with her mother.

“Yes, I’d love to spend the night, Michelle,” I said as reserved as I could be, when I really wanted to jump up and down on the couch in the way that Tom Cruise did, when he confessed his love for Katie Holmes to Oprah.

“Only, there’s something that I must tell you, Bob,” she said biting her lip and showing as much apprehension in her eyes as I had butterflies in my gut.

Oh, oh, here we go. Oh, my God. After writing to her for weeks and talking to her on the phone for hours, after even sharing my sexual fantasy with her, how could she still have a secret? Yet, being the virgin that I was, I had a secret, too, one that I was still too afraid to tell her. Too good to be true, no doubt, it must be something really bad, for her to still have a secret. I just knew she must have a deep, dark secret that would surely ruin all that we had developed. Imagining the worse, just my pitiful luck, is this where she tells me she’s a man or was a man, before her sex change operation? I looked at her hard trying to see her five o’clock shadow or if she had an Adam’s apple, before discreetly looking down at her jeans and between her legs to see if I could discern (gulp) an erection.

Looking so much like my dream woman, preparing myself for the worst, I wondered, what if she is or was a man? What if she’s a post op or a pre op transsexual and has (gulp again) a cock? Then, being the manly man that I think that I am, what if her cock is bigger than my cock? Holy shit, what if she wants me to blow her, before she fucks me up the ass? Oh, boy, even though she’s a great kisser and has fabulous tits, I don’t know about that.

Imagining the worse, I was sick to my stomach in thinking that I had just made out with a man who, no doubt, had breast implants, amazing breast implants. Yet, after having never felt so much sexual excitement in kissing Michelle or Michael, if that’s his real name, maybe all this time I was gay and didn’t know it. Certainly, if Michelle is really Michael, I truly enjoyed making out with her or him. Right then and there I made my decision, having already made out with her or him, no matter if she was a woman or a man, since I was already so attracted to her or him, I decided to stay the night. Hoping for the best, figuring it would be just my luck, I hoped she didn’t have a penis. Bracing myself to hear the worst, I asked the question with trembling trepidation.

“What do you have to tell me, Michelle?” Whatever it was she had to tell me, she suddenly looked so scared. “It’s okay. You can tell me anything,” I said knowing that was a lie.

With her being so drop dead gorgeously feminine, I truly didn’t believe for one minute that she was or once was a man. Maybe she has Herpes. Maybe she’s HIV positive. Maybe she was raped and gangbanged and can’t have, can never have, (gulp) sex and/or babies for the rest of her life. Oh, God. Suddenly, I imagined myself being an eternal virgin. Saint Bob, as pure as fresh, white snow, the everlasting virgin, the man who was never been intimate with a woman, suddenly the thought crossed my mind that I may end up with my mother, the only woman who’d want me. I cringed. Please God help me, I silently prayed.

After all that we’ve written, I didn’t think we had any surprises left but, obviously, if she has something to tell me, I guess she didn’t tell me everything. Maybe it’s as simple and as minor as she’s not a natural blonde. Maybe she was married before and is divorced or (gulp) separated or (double gulp) still married and cheating on her husband. Oh, my God, her having a husband would really suck. My first intimate relationship, I didn’t want to be involved in the dreaded love triangle. Having watched enough CSI, nothing good ever happens to the innocent boyfriend. Maybe she has a kid. Whatever it was she was about to tell me, I had no idea. Yet, still wanting and willing to be with her, no matter whatever she was about to say, I hoped for the best, while dreading and expecting the worst.

I watched her reach down to take a sip of her drink. In a pensive stare, she looked off towards the end of the room, as if there was someone else in the living room with us. Then, she took my hand in hers and kissed it, before pressing it to her brad breasts and closing her eyes, as if praying to God to give her the strength to tell me, whatever it was she needed to tell me. She took a big breath, before opening her eyes and reestablishing eye contact with me. Then, taking another big breath, she gasped it out, as if she was a baby and I had just burped her.

“I’m a virgin,” she said, as if all three words were one word. She gave me a look that told me that she was expecting me to bolt, run, and flee, while screaming obscenities.

She said the three words, I’mavirgin, so fast and so closely connected together that had I not been a virgin, too, I never would have understood what she said. Is that it? Is that all? She’s a virgin?

Relieved that her one and only secret was that she’s a virgin, I was so glad that she wasn’t a man. Relieved that she didn’t have HIV, I was relieved that she wasn’t gangbanged, could have children, and, monumentally more importantly, could also sex. I don’t believe it. Oh, my God. No longer seeing myself with big, white feathery wings, as Saint Bob, the eternal virgin, I was so very happy. This is too funny. Maybe after all of this indecision, I am the one and we were meant to be together.

“You’re not going to believe this, Michelle,” I said with a wide grin.

“What?”

“Something else we have in common,” I said looking at her with eagerness to tell her. Knowing now that my virginal confession may show me in a positive light, after my premature sexual fantasy confession of wanting to have sex with a mother and a daughter, I was thrilled to tell her my sexual status. “I’m a virgin, too.”

We looked at one another in shock, before we both burst out laughing. Here I was thinking that I was an oddity, when I just met my counterpart, a female version of me, another middle aged virgin. What are the odds of that?

“Well, I guess we’ll have to take things slow and teach one another what to do.”

“Yeah, maybe we can go to the mall first and buy Sex for Dummies or in our case, Sex for Virgins.”

“I’ll be back in a moment,” she said giving me a kiss and a hug, before excusing herself to go upstairs.

A few minutes later, looking much like my imagined vision of Aphrodite, the Greek Goddess of love and beauty, she returned wearing her sheer, sexy, pale blue, and virtually see-through nightgown, and carrying a small towel to cover the sofa cushion and a sheet to cover the sofa. Now, even though I’m a 40-year-old virgin, a man who has never had sexual intercourse, it didn’t take me long to understand that, when a woman removes her clothes and dons her nightgown in the middle of the afternoon, she’s not tired. Moreover, when a virginal woman covers the sofa with a sheet and the sofa seat with a towel, sleep has nothing to do with her wearing a sexy nightgown and/or covering the sofa with a sheet and a towel. Chances are good that we’re both about to get lucky and have sexual intercourse.

She sat on the couch beside me and, as if her body glistened with stardust, able to see most of her breasts through the sheerness of her nightgown, I found it hard to believe that I could be any more excited than I was, when kissing Michelle, but I was. Now, with her sitting there so ready and so willing, waiting for me to hold her, kiss her, touch her, feel her, and fondle her, wanting to savor the very moment of my lost virginity, before plunging myself into her wet warmth, I paused. Okay, that’s enough reflection. I need to make love to this sexy bitch.

Kissing and kissing her, the excitement that I felt feeling her breasts through her blouse and her bra was nothing like the excitement that I felt feeling her braless breasts through her flimsy nightgown. Just as I was fondling her breasts and fingering her nipples through her nightgown, she fondled my cock through my pants. Kissing and touching, an exciting precursor to what we were about to do, delaying the inevitable, while heating our desire, by making out more passionately, a big step for the both of us, I could suddenly sense her apprehension.

“Why don’t you get more comfortable,” she said in a sexual excited voice.

Knowing she didn’t mean for me to take off my shoes, put my feet up on the coffee table, and put on ESPN Sports channel, or in my case, the Discovery channel, I knew what she meant by me getting more comfortable, when she started unbuttoning my shirt and unbuckling and unzipping my pants. Not since the first time my mother removed my clothes, was I as excited as I was now, but that’s another story for another time. She stripped me down to my underwear and we resumed making out, only this time even more passionately than before. Similarly excited, as if her deep French kisses was information about new galaxies just discovered in the endless universe, I couldn’t get enough of her lips.

This time, just as my excitement grew, after she changed into her nightgown, while feeling her naked breasts through her nightie, when she felt my cock through my underwear, my sexual excitement increased exponentially. Her long, manicured fingers teased my underwear band, before she slowly slid her fingertips deep inside and grasped me with where no hand has ever touched me before, except for my own hand and my mother’s hand, but again, that’s another story for another time. Then, in a push and a pull, she removed my tee shirt and briefs and I helped her to remove her nightgown. Now, we were both naked. My first time seeing a naked woman that wasn’t my mother, suffice to say, a huge understatement, I was excited. With her long blonde hair and peaches and cream skin, looking so much like my very own version of Lady Godiva, she was so stunningly beautiful.

I watched her looking down at my cock, my slowly stroking me to a bigger and harder erection. I watched her fingers fondling the head of my exposed dick, while wishing she’d take me in her mouth.

“You have a beautiful cock,” she said. “It’s so big.”

“Thank you,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

She reached in the end table drawer and pulled out a condom. Just as I watched the universe through the observatory telescope so very many times, just as a saw a comet streaking across the sky, and wished upon so many stars, my wish was about to come true.

“Let me,” she said opening the condom and rolling it over and down my cock.

Our first attempt, and I do say attempt, at having intercourse, especially having intercourse on the couch, instead of on a bed, poking her rectum with my penis, as I couldn’t find her vagina and, even when I did find the opening, I kept sliding forward and slipping out, was awkward, embarrassing, and clumsy. We laughed, as much as we humped. Nonetheless, when finally inside of her, the time we spent together with our arms and legs wrapped around one another, with our worlds miraculously intertwined and revolving as one, as if we were our own self-sufficient, satellite space station, was Heavenly. Had I known sexual intercourse felt this good, I may have gone to my high school prom, twenty-two years ago. Then, again, had I had sex, then, maybe I would have gotten the girl pregnant, never finished my education, and wouldn’t be here on the couch with my cock inside of Michelle, the woman of my dreams.

“Meant to be together,” I said whispering in her ear.

“You’re the one,” she said returning my whisper.

It was when I was finally inside of her that I thought, if she’s a virgin, she probably never gave a blowjob. Having never had a blowjob myself, except for the one that my drunken Mom tried giving me, sorry, never mind that, Michelle probably never had a cock in her mouth. She’s probably never tasted cum and, no doubt, doesn’t swallow. Only, how do I broach that subject without offending her, by sounding like the pervert that she, undoubtedly, thinks that I am, after confessing that my sexual fantasy was to do her and her mother? Gees, I really wish I hadn’t told her that. For such an educated man, sometimes I’m such a dope.

I figured I’d ask her, if she ever gave a blowjob or a hand job, after we finished having intercourse. An odd thing to think about, blowjobs and her sexual past, while having sexual intercourse for the first time, maybe my cock was the first cock she’s ever seen and/or touched. Definitely, with her being a virgin, my cock is the first cock she ever had in her pussy. I figured I’d ask her more about her limited sexual experience, during the afterglow, after we finished and when we were resting and catching our breath, before having sex again, than to broach that tawdry subject now and, perhaps, ruin the mood. Once we were finished, after she removed the towel from the couch, and excused herself to use the bathroom, we relaxed on the couch naked.

“So,” I said hoping that I didn’t say something stupid to ruin everything, “let me ask you this.”

“What?” In the way that I look up at the night sky, she looked at me with stars in her eyes.

“Being that you’re a virgin,” I said looking down at my cock, before looking back up at her.

“What?” She looked down at my erection, too, before taking my cock in her hand and fondling it. Then, she looked up at me with her big, blue eyes. “Oh, you think that I’ve never sucked a cock? Is that it?” She laughed.

“Well, yeah,” I said thinking how much I love her laugh.

“Hell no. I’ve given lots of blowjobs. I love sucking cock,” she said with a sexy look and a lustful laugh, while fondling and stroking my still erect prick.

“Oh,” I said hoping she’d suck mine.

“I mean,” she said turning red. “I’m not a slut, if that’s what you think,” she said laughing again. “Sucking cock was my way for me to keep my virginity intact. Wanting to save myself for the right man, my one and only, much in the way of a good night kiss today, men are always more than willing to except a blowjob, after a date, than to pressure me for intercourse.”

“I see,” I said satisfied, I think, with her blowjob explanation that she was giving blowjobs, no doubt, to save herself for me. “Maybe we should go upstairs,” I said, “where we’d be more comfortable in the bed than on the couch,” figuring now with not only her virginity confession but also her blowjob confession, especially since we just had intercourse and I was no longer a virgin, that she’d suck my cock, too, as she admittedly has sucked so many others cocks.

“Okay,” she said, “but first, I have another confession to make. I have one more thing to tell you,” she said looking uncomfortably embarrassed, after giving me a sullen look of apprehension.

Figuring that, with her no longer being a virgin and knowing, for sure, that she’s not a man, that there was no more real surprises. Yet, I was just as stunned that she had another secret, as I was stunned by what she said next.

“What is it, Michelle? You can tell me anything,” I said giving her a deep, wet kiss and a hug of supportive encouragement for her to tell me.

“I live with my mother,” she said giving me the same look that I’ve given women, when telling them that I lived with my mother, too, before I moved out and bought my own house.

“Your mother? Okay, that’s no big deal,” I said, suddenly feeling my cock harden and throb, while thinking about Diane again. “So, where is your mother, now?”

I figured she was out with her girlfriends or at the senior center for the evening. Now, with the reality that her mother lived here too, silently and secretly, I admonished myself again for thinking dirty thoughts and after having masturbated over her mother before. How could I ever look her mother in the eye, without thinking of her naked and on her knees? Now, I really wished that I had never confessed my sexual fantasy of having sex with mother and daughter to Michelle. God, I’m such a pervert.

“She’s upstairs.”

“Upstairs?” I involuntarily looked up at the ceiling, as if I could see her mother through the plaster, while covering my cock with my hand. “Oh, but I thought this was a only a two bedroom house and you’re using the second bedroom as your office.”

“I am,” she said. “I have a king sized bed,” she said with a bit of awkwardness and embarrassment that suddenly flushed her face red, before composing herself. “Come upstairs with me and I’ll show you. I’m eager for you to meet my Mom,” said Michelle covering her nakedness with her sheer nightgown.

King sized bed? She sleeps in the same bed with her mother? Nah, having even more things in common, that would be too weird. If she does sleep in the same bed with her mother, even though that’s what I did with my mother, when I was living at home, after my Dad died, I thought I was the only adult, who slept with their mother. If they did sleep together, I was accepting of her living with and sleeping in the same bed, as her mother. Not thinking that there’s anything wrong with a loving mother helping with the personal hygiene of her adult son, I wondered if her mother washed her nude body, too, in the way my mother did mine, when I lived at home. Not that there was anything wrong with doing that, I wondered if she gave her mother naked massages in the way that I gave my mother full bodied naked massages.

In hoping for daughter and mother sex, I never considered the ramifications that, just as it was with Amanda and Elaine, in my favorite porn video, Mother and Daughter Does Daddy’s Virginal Best Friend, that Diane would have to be just as intimate with Michelle, as I admittedly was with my mother, if we were to have a threesome. By the way, something that I could never tell my mother, should things work out with Michelle, Mom wouldn’t want me to be with anyone but her. Being the pervert that I admittedly am, picturing Michelle sleeping with her mother, I imagined the two of them going at one another. Even though I controlled my incestuous urges and refrained from having sex with my mother, the visual of Michelle and Diane having sex was hot. As soon as I thought of them together, beating myself up for the pervert that I’ve become, I chastised myself for going there again. Erasing the image of them sleeping in the same bed naked and having incestuous sex, I assumed they had separate beds squeezed into one large bedroom.

“Okay,” I said rushing to get dressed.

Quickly, I put on my clothes and fixing my hair, I tried to look presentable enough to meet her mother. I suddenly felt so awkward. Thinking that we were alone, trying to remember how loud I was, when having sex with Michelle, I wondered if her mother heard me having sexual intercourse with her daughter. Oh, my God, as if we were babysitters caught by her parent, how embarrassing is that, especially at my age, for her mother to hear me fucking her daughter?

Straggling behind her, while staring at, squeezing, and feeling her fabulous ass through and beneath her nightgown, I followed Michelle upstairs and stood behind her, as we stood in the hall.

“I love my Mom. I really love my Mom, Bob.”

“I love my Mom, too,” I said, albeit happy to still not be living with her and to have my own life.

“I told my mother about your sexually fantasy, with you wanting to have sex with daughter and mother,” she said turning to me with wide-eyed excitement. What? She told her mother about my sexual fantasy? Why? Shocked that her mother knew something so very embarrassingly personal about me, it took me a moment to realize the ramifications of what Michelle had just said. Now I really felt a pervert.

“Pardon? Did you just say that you told your mother about my sexual fantasy to have sex with daughter and mother?”

“Yes, I did, Bob,” she said with a wide smile and a giggle. “She was just as excited as I was to hear that your sexual fantasy of having sex with daughter and mother was the same sexual fantasy that she has of having sex with her daughter and her daughter’s boyfriend.”

“Wait, did you just say that your mother is excited to know that my sexual fantasy is having sex with daughter and mother because she shares my sexual fantasy?”

“Yes, I did, Bob,” she said with another giggle.

It was then that I realized, my dream come true, that I was about to finally experience my sexual fantasy. What a day? What an incredible day? First I finally meet the love of my life. Then, I lose my virginity to her and, now, I’m about to experience my sexual fantasy. Now, I get it. I finally get it. I understood why Michelle wrote what she did, when she wrote that we were meant to be together and that I was the one. Somehow, psychically connected through the vast cosmos, she knew that I was the one and we were meant to be together.

“Michelle, just so that I understand, just so that I don’t get ahead of myself and misinterpret your meaning, what exactly did your mother say, when you told her that my sexual fantasy was to have a daughter and mother threesome?”

“Well, Bob, just as a picture is worth a thousand words, come and see for yourself,” said Michelle, removing my shirt, unbuckling, unzipping my pants in the hallway, and stripping me naked.

“Michelle!” Feebly, I protested. “What are you doing?”

Thinking this was all a surreal dream, even though I was about to experience my sexual fantasy, I was embarrassed. Having not even met her mother, yet, I was now naked. Maybe Michelle didn’t tell me another secret that they were nudists.

“Don’t be such a prude, Bob,” she said stripping off her nightgown and slowly opening her bedroom door a crack, “Bob, this is my mother, Diane. Mom, this is Bob. Bob is or was a virgin, just like me, too,” she said with an excited giggle, while opening the door wider.

Not quite in the room, with Michelle blocking my vision, from where I stood, I could only see that Diane was positioned on the bed. From where I stood looking over Michelle, I could only see Diane’s pretty face.

“Hi,” I said sticking a hand up over Michelle, while hiding my nakedness behind her.

“We just did the dirty deed downstairs. Wait until you see his cock, Mom. It’s so big. It’s so hard. It’s so beautiful,” she said opening the door all the way and allowing me to step in the room with her.

There on the bed, as ready as was Michelle was to have sex with me on the couch, was her naked mother, Diane, ready to have sex with me, too. As if I was dreaming, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. All that was missing from Diane was a rose between her teeth. For a 58-year-old woman, with the body of a 40-year-old woman, she looked hot. Similar body types, nearly body doubles, it was so very arousing, after having seen Michelle’s big breasts to now see her mother’s big breasts, too.

Once I was in the room, Michelle pulled me on the bed. With me in the middle, my excitement that suddenly grew bigger and harder was obvious.

“Hello, Bob,” said Diane giving me a big welcoming smile, before looking down at my cock. Having just met her mother, my potential mother-in-law, should things really work out with Michelle, I thought of all the mother-in-law stories that I read on Literotica, so many men’s fantasies, and here I was about to experience it for myself. “Michelle has told me all about you,” she said looking down at my cock again. “You are a big boy, aren’t you?”

Giving me a deep, wet kiss, while fondling my erection, before cupping my balls, Diane didn’t waste any time getting better acquainted. Then, when Michelle took back control of my lips, Diane lowered her body halfway down the bed and took control of my cock. Oh, my God, I couldn’t believe Michelle’s mother, a woman I had just met, was sucking my cock, before her daughter even had a chance to have my cock in her mouth. A sexual fantasy come true, finally I was having sex with mother and daughter. Kissing Michelle, while her mother was sucking my cock, my sexual fantasy come true, was a feeling I never imagined having. Okay, maybe I did fantasize of Diane sucking my cock, when I was home masturbating over the photo that Michelle sent me of her and her mother but, even in my wildest sexual fantasies, I never seriously thought we’d be having a threesome. Even though I watched my mother and daughter porn flick a hundred times, I never thought something like that would happen to me.

“Oh, my God, Diane, suck my cock. Suck me,” I said putting a gentle hand to the back of her pretty blonde head, while Michelle watched her mother sucking my cock, before taking her turn.

“My turn, Mom,” she said lowering her body down on the bed, while her mother came up to meet my lips. “Let me suck Bob’s cock for a while. I haven’t had him in my mouth, yet. I can’t wait to taste his cum.”

Diane launched her lips at my lips, while allowing my hands to explore her sexy body everywhere. Seeing where Michelle got her hot body, I felt her breasts and reached around her to cup her wonderful ass. Then, I fingered her pussy, while sucking her big nipples. With Michelle orally attached to my cock and my lips attached to Diane’s lips, an unbroken connection of mother and daughter, when I wasn’t sucking Diane’s nipples, I was kissing her. The feeling of having sex with a mother and daughter, plugged into two women that spanned a generation, a sexually charged current, the feeling was electric. Only, it was then that I wondered if Michelle’s grandmother was alive. Nah, just kidding.

With me never having sexual intercourse before, of course, I’ve never experienced a threesome before. Yet, with some gentle guidance from Diane, what happened next came naturally. With Michelle positioned over her mother’s head, I fucked Diane, while eating Michelle’s pussy. Then, we switched, with me fucking Michelle again, while I ate Diane’s pussy. Glad that I had waited so long to have sex, so much better than the video, never could I have imagined how hot having sex with a mother and daughter could be.

Going from mother to daughter and back to daughter and mother, when I wasn’t fucking Diane and eating Michelle, I was fucking Michelle and eating Diane. Then, as if eager to give me a show, the two women went at one another. Taking a break, it was fun to watch Michelle kissing her mother and Diane returning her daughter’s passionate kiss, before Diane lowered herself to eat her daughter’s pussy, after Michelle returned the favor and ate her mother’s pussy.

So much better than my favorite porn flick, Mother and Daughter Does Daddy’s Virginal Best Friend, I was living my own porn flick. At one another for hours, whenever I was tired from fucking Michelle, when I had enough of Diane sucking my cock, and vice versa, I’d relax and watched Michelle go down on her mother, before her mother went down on her. Glad to be part of their happy family, they were such a nice family.

After having sex with Michelle and experiencing her mother in a threesome, now I know that I am the one and that we were meant to be together forever.

THE END

This is a Valentine’s Day contest story. Please don’t forget to vote, comment, and to favor me as your favorite author and this story as your favorite story. Thank you for reading, voting, commenting on, and favoring me as your favorite author and/or this as your favorite story.