A Weekend to Remember

A Weekend to Remember

WARNING! This story contains several scenes of gay sex. If men fucking trips your trigger, move on!

Under the influence of demon rum and wacky tobaccy, Clay spends the weekend in an orgy of sexual excess. He renews his relationship with his first cousin and impregnates his mother.

All characters engaged in sexual acts are at least 18

Chapter 01

Clay Johnson awoke with his face buried in someone’s sweaty hair, his hand gripping a sizeable breast, his cock nestled between the cheeks of a meaty ass, and the granddaddy of all hangovers.

His mouth was dry and gummy. He was shaky and sweaty, his belly hurt, and a brass band was playing the Anvil Chorus in his head.

His addled mind thought he was back home, and the body lying next to him was his wife. Then, as the alcohol fog clouding his thinking lifted, he realized he and his wife of ten years had split six weeks ago. Broke and distraught, he went to his one haven. The bed he was lying in was in his old room in his parents’ home.

His hand reflexively tightened on the breast as he stirred. The warm body moved, and the bubble butt nestled tighter into his cock followed by an unintelligible mumble.

Something was wrong. There shouldn’t be anyone in bed with him. His parents were old fashion, and overnight female company was not allowed. So whoever she was, he had to get her the hell out of his room before his parents woke up.

On top of that, his bladder demanded attention. Clay hesitated, imagining the pain he would experience when he got out of bed. He briefly considered then nixed doing the unthinkable.

He could make out the shape of a woman in the darkened room. Where the hell did she come from? He went to shake her and wake her up, but the movement caused the pounding in his temples to increase exponentially.

Clay swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his back touching the warm body and his head in his hands. He stood and instantly regretted it. The room swam disturbingly, and his stomach did a 360-degree roll. He gulped several times, swallowing his bile, trying not to vomit.

Who the Hell is that in my bed?

Before he could answer his question, his stomach roiled again. Clay sprinted across the hall to the bathroom, dropped to his knees, embraced the porcelain throne, and heaved up his guts.

The acrid scent of vomit and alcohol filled the air. However, the cool porcelain felt good against his sweating face.

Clay’s vomiting ended with dry heaves. The room spun again as he shakily got to his feet. He placed one hand on the wall behind the toilet to avoid falling. He stood there, the sweat cascading down his body, gulping air as the room and his belly spun slowly.

His cock was tender and sticky when he grasped it and aimed it at the toilet. He must have fucked long and hard in a tight pussy for his cock to be so sore.

He looked across the hall at the naked woman lying on her belly. Her arms were at her side, with one leg slightly bent. Whoever she was, they had fucked hard! As his thick yellow stream splashed in the toilet, he struggled to recall whom he brought home to his parents’ home.

He experienced a moment of panic. If his mother discovered he screwed some bimbo in her home, she would kill him! She had urged him to stay with his wife and try to make a go of it. She confided that her marriage was not the best, but she worked on it.

He flinched as he shook the last drops of urine from his sticky cock. He rinsed out his mouth and then brushed his teeth. Whoever was in his bed, he had to get them the Hell out of the house before his mother got up.

Chapter 02

Clay’s day began with him refereeing an argument between his parents. His father informed his mother he wasn’t going to her family reunion barbecue but pheasant hunting with his friends.

The tensions between them had been increasing. Their arguments were more personal and vitriolic. After 30 years of marriage, they appeared to have lost the spark.

Clay agreed to attend the family barbecue with his mother to keep the peace and mollify his mother. The barbecue was held yesterday at Aunt Helen’s and Uncle Al’s farm. Dozens of family and extended family attended, including Gale, their daughter, and his first cousin.

Despite his misgivings, it turned out to be a good time. He and his mother relaxed, momentarily pushing their respective domestic situations aside, and enjoyed themselves. Uncle Al barbecued and made quarts of his famous homemade brandy. Clay and his mother ate and drank their fill, enjoying this respite from their less than ideal domestic lives

A groan from the direction of his bedroom caused Clay to return to the problem at hand. There was a woman in his bed. He had to get her out.

For the moment, he leaned over the face bowl holding the rim tightly with both hands. He still felt sick to his stomach, and his head was still pounding. Vignettes of the previous day played back in his head like previews of coming attractions at the movies.

Clay played the peacemaker with his parents and volunteered to go to the reunion with his mother. He hadn’t attended a reunion in years and was looking forward to it. His ex-wife referred to his relatives as bumpkins, and they never attended these gatherings.

On the drive up, his mother lay against the passenger side window crying as he drove them to the reunion. Her yellow sundress rode up her legs, exposing her upper thigh and the lace around the leghole of her matching panties. Clay forced his eyes back on the road and away from his mother’s plump thigh.

He smiled as he felt the beginnings of a chubby. For all his 30 years, his mother tended to walk around the house in various stages of undress. He recalled seeing her casually moving about their home in her lacey bra and panties. She routinely paraded around the house after her shower with a towel wrapped around her.

When his father complained, pointing out they had a pubescent teenager, she countered that her underwear or the towel was no more revealing than a bikini or one-piece bathing suit.

A blur of faces, familiar and unfamiliar, at the farm as they hugged and shook hands. Clay’s cousin Gale hugged him, holding her embrace a beat longer than a cousin should.

She took charge of him, shoving a Dixie cup filled with an evil-looking dark liquid in his hand. Then, she led him around the gathering, introducing him to the other family members, including her milquetoast husband. He was slim, effeminate, mild-mannered, the antithesis of the buxom extroverted Gale.

Clay and Gale had a short, intense affair when they were 18 and high school seniors. His parents took a 14-day cruise, leaving him on his uncle and aunt’s farm.

He and Gale hit it off, spending their days doing chores and exploring the farm and surrounding woods. What was a close relationship turned sexual one day in the barn.

They were feeding the livestock on a hot August day. Gale turned on the hose and began filling the water trough. Clay howled his displeasure when she impishly turned the hose on her cousin. He snatched the hose from her hands and turned it on her, soaking her blouse and cut-off jeans.

Gale tackled him, and they wrestled on the hay-strewn floor. They were never sure how they got naked.

Though they were both 18-year-old virgins, Gale had the advantage of having watched the farm animals. So they did it doggie style for their first time like the bull takes the cow or the stallion takes the mare.

For the remainder of Clay’s stay, they fucked daily, sometimes multiple times a day. They experimented with many of the kinks and positions they found online. Gale discovered she liked being on top, riding her cousin’s thick cock. They both found that 69 was the position they liked best for oral sex.

When Clay’s parents arrived to pick him up after the cruise, they were both sexually proficient and unbeknownst to anyone, Gale was pregnant.

Clay was a freshman in college when he learned of his cousin’s hurried marriage. He suspected but was never sure that the baby, a boy, was his. Gale and her new husband moved to another state. Over the years, he saw her infrequently. When he did see her, Clay’s wife was with him, and he couldn’t ask about the baby.

As the homemade brandy flowed, enhanced by their THC vaping, the cousins became more touchy-feely, harkening back to their intense summer fling. Their bonhomie graduated to mutual groping.

Initially, Clay was uncomfortable because her husband always seemed close. After a while, he became an unnoticed spectator.

He couldn’t remember how they ended up behind the barn. It was all wrapped in a soft-focus haze. Her husband was there watching when Clay and Gail fucked behind the barn.

They were drunk on the homemade brandy and high on the THC vape. Clay DID recall she was still an incredible fuck. Unlike his ex-wife, who, after the honeymoon, rationed sex as though it were in short supply, Gale loved to fuck.

He could almost feel her bubble butt slamming back into him and hear her guttural moans and shouted profanities, followed by the weird keening sound she made when she climaxed. Gale was overweight, had three kids, and would never be considered for a centerfold, but she could fuck like a porn star.

Gail’s dress was on her back, and her panties were on the ground. She was leaning against the barn with her husband standing next to her. Her hairy pussy was wet and creamy. As Clay pumped in her hole, her bubble butt moved like waves on a brown ocean.

“You like my pussy, Clay?” Gale looked back over her shoulder, her face wreathed in lust.

“It’s better than it ever was!”

Gale came hard, her pussy clamping down on his thick tool. Then, as her pussy tried to push him out, Clay drove in harder, dumping a thick load of baby batter deep in his cousin’s married pussy.

Her husband unexpectantly sprang into action. He dropped to his knees and took Clay’s gleaming, dripping cock in his mouth. He caressed Clay’s balls with one hand while stroking his tool with the other, giving Clay a world-class blowjob.