Happy Birthday Mom

Literotic asexstories – Happy Birthday Mom by miss_D_mena,miss_D_mena It started as a joke, a childish prank, and a bit of fun. It was something to amuse my mother, Susan, on her birthday, because not only was it her day, but it was also mine. I had been a present twenty years previously and thought it only appropriate to show my appreciation to this woman who had given birth to me. There was nothing in the card shops that took my fancy, which is why I came up with this silly idea to go along with the surprise I had purchased for her.

It wasn’t difficult, as some online tuitions showed; it was a simple task to scan some pictures of her onto my laptop and then, with the aid of an image editing program, morph her face onto another woman’s body. Nothing rude or too risqué, though.

She is slim, with rather good legs, but upstairs, my mom is on the small side, with time and gravity taking their toll. I was sure she would see the funny side of it; the picture of the other woman I had chosen was full-bodied, with the blouse she wore straining as it displayed a large amount of breast and cleavage.

“If only,” I thought, grinning to myself.

If my mother looked like that, I could easily fancy her myself.

On the day she opened it, she burst out laughing.

“Stuart! If I had that much, I wouldn’t be able to walk upright.”

She turned around as I fastened the clasp on the rather expensive necklace, I had bought her and then gave me a quick hug before moving off to mingle.

Our party was in full swing, with friends and family enjoying the occasion. Even my father had managed to get back for the event. He worked away mostly, only returning a couple of times each month, and leaving my mother to bring up their brood alone.

No one was counting, and I have no idea how much either I or Mom had consumed. I know it was enough to take me upstairs to relieve my bladder. After emptying it, I heard the sound of someone moving around outside as I flushed and then washed my hands. As I exited, my mother was waiting, hopping from one leg to the other.

“How did you manage to do that?” she asked hurriedly, referring to her card.

“It was easy, Mom, just a little bit of computer wizardry.”

“Would you do another one? But make me look more normal. Something I could show my friends. They would love it.”

I grinned and nodded as she dashed inside, and the door closed.

It wouldn’t be that day; I was far too inebriated, and it would probably be late when the last guest decided to depart. But found it amusing that my mother had requested that I do more.

When I got around to it, I kept the picture mostly decent–nothing smutty if she was going to show it around. I simply placed her in a nice robe with black stockings and a hint of suspenders. Although she was showing a vast expanse of leg and thigh, no other body parts were on show as the original model posed demurely.

My mother was delighted when I presented it to her, and several weeks later she told me how her friends had found it hilarious and were requesting similar ones.

I must admit that as I worked on those pictures, there was a certain amount of arousal. There was something about images of these mature women dressed sexily rather than in the dowdy, mumsy clothes that they normally wore.

My father was away as usual when she called me into her room one evening, flourishing a couple of pictures, which she handed over.

“Your dad took these years ago. I always hated them. I just look so……” She found it difficult to explain without using words that she could not bring herself to say in front of her son.

I was astonished that she was even showing them to me. She was quite a few years younger and dressed in her underwear. Despite being partially naked, the lingerie did nothing for her, and she was a long way from appearing arousing.

I promised to work my magic, spending several nights finding pictures of women I could use. It was easy to make her bra disappear, to be replaced by a pair of quite firm-looking, jutting breasts that I presumed would have been similar to how she may have once looked. The panties she was wearing came up to her waist and appeared to have an elasticated panel, probably to hold her tummy in. With a clever bit of morphing, they were replaced with little more than a thong, and her stomach flattened. After clearing any blemishes, I also removed her glasses, which made her look years younger.

Surprisingly, when they were finished and I gazed at her pictures, it gave me an erection. I could never imagine thinking of my mother sexually, but staring at her now, she looked quite arousing and highly erotic, and I began to wonder how much of her figure she had kept.

She certainly seemed to appreciate my efforts.

“Oh, my God, Stuart. I look…… ”

“Hot!” I blurted it out. “You look hot, mom.”

She laughed, but at the same time, she gave me a strange look.

When she hugged me, I was embarrassed. After looking at the two pictures of her topless, when she suddenly pressed herself against me, I had an unfortunate accident; my cock began to stiffen. Suddenly, I was wondering what I should do. Staying in my present position meant she would be able to feel it, and if I moved, she would know why I had put a space between us.

I’m sure she hugged me for longer than necessary; her belly pressed tightly against what was going on below, and when she did release me, my face was flushed.

Thankful to escape, I retired to my bedroom and my computer. Despite printing out the pictures for her, the files were still on the machine. I brought one up, trying to decide whether to use it as wallpaper but deciding it was a bad idea. However, after doing those for her, I couldn’t help but go a step further.

In the next picture I produced, she was completely naked. Where the others had been demure, this one was graphic: my mother lounging with her legs open as her fingers gaped her pussy.

She wasn’t shown this image; that would be a step too far, I considered. But it did get plenty of use in the coming days. The more I looked at it, the more I felt the need to masturbate; the sight of her naked inflamed my lust. As my hand slid up and down my shaft, I could feel the increased arousal as I imagined sinking it into her pussy. In my fantasy, she acted like a whore, her legs opening wide as she coarsely encouraged me to shag her and fill her cunt with my cum.

I instinctively knew that what I was imagining was wrong, but it was so incredibly arousing that I just couldn’t help myself and produced more images of her in delectable positions. Most I kept on my laptop, but a couple I printed out and cropped smaller so that they slid easily inside any of my books or magazines.

It wasn’t an infatuation with her. I knew that what I imagined would never happen; it was just something that I used to attain release.

At twenty, I was attending college regularly, and my siblings were still finishing their schooling. Mom didn’t work, and my father was still away, as usual. Her pictures were well hidden, or at least that’s what I thought.

What I hadn’t counted on was my mother deciding that all of the bedrooms needed a good cleaning. Perhaps if I had kept mine tidier, she may have missed it, but it was a mess, with clothes, books, and all of my bits and pieces were strewn everywhere–a typical lad’s room.

Susan collected all of her cleaning materials together, carrying them upstairs along with the vacuum cleaner. Glancing into each of the rooms, it was obvious that Stuart’s was the worst, and so that was where she decided to start. Just picking up all of the discarded clothing and putting the pile into the wash basket was a significant improvement. Books and magazines were piled on the bed, and then she removed ornaments so that she could dust them and the shelves.

With the items replaced, she sorted through the books, wiping each one and putting them back on his bookcase. She was stacking the magazines when something dropped out of one of them, landing face down on the floor. She just picked up the papers and placed them on top of the pile as she stripped his bed and made it again with fresh linen. After hoovering, she moved the cleaning materials to another room, coming back to her son’s just to check that she was happy and hadn’t missed anything.

It was just a pure coincidence that she turned the two pieces of paper over and was shocked to discover pictures of herself. She knew Stuart must have created them, but these were not like the others; they were definitely pornographic. Susan sat on his bed as she glanced at one and then the other. She was disturbed that he had made them, but at the same time, she found it quite stimulating that this was how he saw her.

She wished that she still had a figure like the women in the pictures. Yes, she still had good legs, and as a young woman, she had been reasonably pretty. For many years, however, she’d had something of a tummy–those high-waisted panties in her pictures–trying to hide it. But it was her breasts. She had never been big, but after breastfeeding and with age, they had unfortunately sagged, and it was only her bra that made her look as though she still had a bosom.

She couldn’t be angry with him. What he had done was wrong, but it was also nice to feel that someone, especially a young man of his age, should still find her attractive.

She placed them back inside a magazine but had no clue as to which one they had come from as she moved on to other rooms. All day, when she had five minutes, she would pop back and look at them. They were so well done that it was almost impossible to tell that she had not actually posed for him. She was going to have to have a word, whether she wanted to or not. If her husband ever saw them, there would be hell to pay.

As Susan worked, thoughts would pop into her head. The more they did, the more disconcerted she became. Her son was looking at naked pictures of her, even if he had constructed them himself. A sudden thought made her shiver: what else was he doing with them? And then the image entered her mind. She did not know for certain, simply guessing what he wanted them for. She remembered that after their party, when she had hugged him, there had been a definite something pushing against her, and it was only afterwards that she suddenly realised what it was.

Opening the bedroom window, she stuck her head out of it.

“Christ! It’s bloody hot in here.” The flush she was feeling was not confined to her face. It felt like her whole body was on fire, and there was a definite sensation between her legs.

It took her by surprise. How many years had passed since she last had a sudden urge to masturbate? Susan felt highly aroused, conscious that her pussy was leaking as a hand went beneath her dress and her fingers felt the dampness of her panties.

She tried to resist the urge, concentrating on her work. But it refused to diminish until, eventually, she gave in as she headed for her bedroom. “Ten minutes,” she told herself.

In the room, she rummaged in the bottom of her wardrobe. There was a box of seldom-worn shoes, and buried beneath them was a toy that no one knew about, not even her husband. Susan withdrew the vibrating rubber cock and twisted the bottom to make sure it still worked. She felt naughty as she removed her panties, hitched her skirt up to her waist, and stretched out on her bed.

She did not need the pictures of herself; instead, she closed her eyes and tried to imagine someone. It didn’t work; immediately, images of Stuart appeared. When her hand tentatively touched her pussy, it was his hand. When her fingers invaded her passage, it was his fingers, and when she inserted the toy, it was her son towering over her as he penetrated her cunt.

The vibrations, plus the in-and-out thrusting, soon had her arousal soaring. She tried to dismiss her thoughts, but they refused to budge. All Susan could think of was her son fucking her.

When she climaxed, her hips rose from the bed, and her legs clamped together as the cock continued to vibrate inside her. Her orgasm seemed endless, and her mind played tricks as she was convinced Stuart had just cum inside her.

Afterwards, she was distressed, feeling disgusted that she had satisfied her urges by thinking of her son fucking her. When she was able, she made herself decent and continued. But she had lost interest now; no longer was the cleaning something she wanted to get done; it had become a chore.

The younger ones were eating their tea when she motioned to Stuart that she wanted to speak to him upstairs.

I had been dreading this moment. Arriving home from college, I found my room spick and span; my first instinct was to search for the pictures of Mom, going through the magazines until I came across the one, I was convinced that I had left them in. Perhaps I’d made a mistake? Because they weren’t there. Starting at the top of the pile, I shook each one, the images falling from the fourth one I picked up.

Now I wasn’t worried; it was just a niggle. Had I just gotten it wrong, or had she discovered them? Feeling nervous as I descended, she gave me no clue as to whether she had come across them or not. And then she caught my attention and pointed upstairs.

I felt fidgety and sick as I ascended the stairs and headed for my room while she followed behind. Sitting on my bed, she sat close and took my hand.

“I don’t really look like that, Stuart. I wish I did, but those images are far from the truth.”

“That was it. She had found them,” I thought, my face turning crimson.

“It is very sweet of you to imagine me like that, but it is also wrong. I’m not going to ask what you want them for, but I can guess.”

At first, I was too embarrassed to say anything, but the more we spoke, the easier it became. Never in my wildest dreams had I thought that one day I would sit with my mother and discuss sex–and not just sex but her body as well.

It felt natural when I eventually said,

“But you can change some things, Mom. What about contact lenses instead of glasses? And you could always have a boob job if you wish. Both of those would make you look younger. You have the money your parents left you.

Susan had been an only child, and when her parents passed away two years earlier, they left her a sizable sum as well as smaller amounts to him and his siblings.

“You could use my money if you wanted. There is enough there to get them done.”

“I couldn’t do that, Stuart. It is your money.”

“I don’t mind, Mom, if it makes you feel happy.”

Susan’s heart swelled, but would he be saying that if he knew what she had done that afternoon?

“I’m not telling you off. But if your father found them, there would be trouble. Anyway, when would I find time to get a boob job?” She laughed and tried to lighten the atmosphere.

“The summer break. It’s not far off, and I would take care of everything for you and look after the kids.”

“He was serious!” Susan thought. “Let me think about it. Now come on, let’s get some tea.”

In bed that night, alone as usual, she did indeed give it some serious thought. The idea of having a decent bosom was an exciting prospect; was it something she could entertain? She had spent years wearing glasses, thinking nothing of it; contact lenses had never entered her head.

Over the weekend, she consulted with him often. “If I borrow your money, I promise to pay it back. It will just be easier because your father will not notice. Could you also look up some clinics for me? I wouldn’t know where to start.”

I did all the work for her once she decided to go ahead. I found a recommended place, made appointments, and withdrew the money she needed.

We see very little of my father during the summer break, and so it was all organised for her to have the operation as soon as we all broke up from college and school. The stay in the hospital was only a couple of days, and then she was back home. But her recovery would take up the best part of my holidays.

Time passed, the pain receded, and eventually, she was able to start doing things again. When my father returned, the bandages had gone, but she still had to wear a support bra for the moment. And then we were into the autumn, with the kids back at school and me back in college.

Mom had gotten contact lenses, and I began to notice her bosom. She hadn’t gone overboard, but it was obvious now that she had tits, though whether my father noticed, I have no idea. It was between our return and Christmas that she invited me up to her room one Saturday afternoon. My siblings were out with friends, and it was just me and Mom in the house.

“Would you like to see?” she asked. “After all, you paid for them.”

To say I was stunned is an understatement. My mother was asking if I wanted to see her tits. Of course, I wanted to say yes, but would that give her the wrong impression?

“It’s okay; it will be our secret,” she said with a grin as she started to unbutton her baggy blouse.

Reaching around back, she unhooked her bra and let it fall, as I was faced with a perfect pair of jutting titties. I’m sure my mouth was open as I stared.

“You can touch them if you would like.”

They felt firm but, at the same time, smooth and soft. What I had been offered was an invitation to touch them, but my excitement got in the way as I allowed my thumb to slowly rub and arouse her nipple. Her eyes closed briefly as the teat became erect and joined the bulge in my pants as I got a hard-on.

“You shouldn’t really do that, Stuart.”

But with the dreamy look on her face, she hadn’t told me to stop. Cupping one of her boobs, I applied pressure with my finger and thumb to the erect teat, a growl of pleasure rumbling from her throat. Her eyes opened, and she glanced down at what I was doing, her hand suddenly settling on my thigh, very close to my groin.

Christ! My cock was throbbing as she continued to let me fondle her new breasts, and then I nearly jumped a mile as her hand moved and caressed my prominent bulge.

Our faces could have only been inches apart. Who would make the first move, I wondered? As it was, I did, closing the distance as our lips met.

I expected to be told to stop. To hear her voice rise, maybe in anger. Instead, she returned my kiss as our lips and mouths began to move together. No word of a lie; I wanted to fuck her.

She was fumbling with my trousers, and then I felt her hand slide inside as she gripped my cock. Was she going to be disappointed, I wondered? I had nothing special–just a normal penis. But she seemed content as she eased my skin up and down. Reticent of abandoning her tits yet, my other hand went to her knee and then eased itself beneath her skirt and up her thigh. She moaned softly when, at last, I touched her pussy through the smooth material of her knickers.

I was still convinced my hands would be pushed away and I would be told to stop. What I wasn’t expecting as she broke away was to be asked to undress.

I’m sure that we were both as nervous as each other. Would I be disappointed to see her in the flesh? Would she be averse to going further once she saw me naked? Apparently, neither of us were, as we stretched out on the bed face-to-face.

“You need to be tender with my tits yet, Stuart. As for the rest of me, you can do what you want.”

What I wanted was to kiss her again. Her lips tasted sweet and succulent. She pressed her breasts into my chest, and I pushed my throbbing erection against her mound.

It had sounded strange hearing her call them her tits, but it soon wore off as our tongues invaded each other’s mouths. Doing as she asked, I was gentle with her breasts. As for the rest of her body, I was frantic to explore it, and so I took her at her word. Pushing her more onto her back, my hand moved downward, Mom opening her legs as it delved between them, and I got my first feel of her pussy.

Her lips were open; her fanny was wet, and she grunted and moaned as I pressed my hand against it. When my finger penetrated her quim, I thought she was going to scream. In retaliation, she grabbed my prick and began tossing me off. Now it was my turn to moan loudly as her hand slid up and down the rigid shaft.

Still lacking the confidence to say or ask, my mother seemed to be a mind reader as she dragged me on top of her, legs and thighs opening as I slid between them, and my cock pressed against her pussy.

I must admit to a bit of fumbling, my nerves getting the better of me. But at last, I was inside her, my cock buried deep in her cunt. The whole situation was surreal. I had played with my mother’s tits, softly and gently kissing, and licking her nipples. I had fingered her and was now about to shag her. What part of any of that could match my wildest dreams?

Taking it cautiously was a necessity; the thrill and excitement of being naked in bed with her–of having sex with her–had already elevated my arousal. It took concentration, trying to think of other things as I thrust slowly until I could get my body under control and not shoot my load immediately.

From my vantage point, I was able to look down and see the new breasts forming perfect domes, each with a darker brown areola and nipple. Yes, she had a belly; the skin wrinkled in places, but other than that, she looked stunning, especially with her legs open and knees bent.

She dragged my head down, our lips meeting once more as I continued to shaft her fanny, our mouths working against each other and feeling seductive and tantalising. Even though I didn’t currently have a girlfriend, it wasn’t as though I didn’t get my leg over. But this was different; my previous encounters with the opposite sex were not comparable. There was something more arousing about having sex with my mother than with those other women.

Susan felt nervous about what she was proposing to do, pretty sure that her son was using her pictures for masturbation. She was excited about her new breasts and had the urge to show them off. Her husband had returned a couple of times since she’d had them done and still hadn’t noticed. After having four children, he paid her very little attention anymore.

With the children out and doing their own thing, the occasion presented itself. When she took Stuart upstairs, she could feel herself shaking. His face when she asked if he wanted to take a look, was a picture.

Unbuttoning her blouse, she felt wanton. When she removed her bra, his eyes were out on stalks, which was why she asked if he wanted to touch them. Susan wasn’t necessarily thinking about sex, at least not up to the point that he touched and rubbed her nipple. It was still very sensitive, and as he ran his thumb over it, the sensation was akin to an electric shock, exiting immediately through her pussy.

He was gentle as he continued to touch her teat, but it was only as she glanced downward that she noticed the substantial bulge in his pants. Suddenly, she felt euphoric at the thought that she was still capable of exciting this young man. That was how she saw him for a moment, her brain dismissing the fact that he was her son. She hadn’t meant to, but the more he fondled her breast, the more her hand gravitated towards his erection.

It felt firm beneath her fingers as she cupped it and then traced its length. What she was feeling sent signals to her pussy as she became moist, and it started demanding to be touched. She didn’t know whether to say something; thankfully, she didn’t need to as she felt Stuart’s hand come to rest on her knee and then begin making its way up her leg and thigh.

When he stroked her pussy, she was convinced she was going to orgasm; the sensations suddenly flooding her body were overwhelming. It was then that she made her mind up–she wanted Stuart to fuck her. The fact that he was her son was overcome by the feelings her body was experiencing. Apparently, he was as nervous as she was when they undressed, but stretched out on the bed, their bodies pressing against each other, nerves disappeared.

When his cock slid inside her, Susan surrendered herself to him. It had been a while since someone had made love to her, and as his cock expanded her pussy with each thrust, she felt her arousal increase. She may have to be careful with her breasts, but there was nothing wrong with her fanny as she urged him to fuck her faster and harder.

When she climaxed, she could not stop herself from writhing; her orgasm extended as she felt his cock jerk inside her cunt and then the sudden rush as his hot cum filled her pussy.

As reality returned, so did the doubts about whether she had done the right thing.

“I still don’t look anything like your pictures,” she said slowly.

“You look better than those pictures,” he said, interrupting her. “I can’t wait for you to heal properly so that I can touch your breasts again–if you let me, that is.”

Of course, she was going to let him. Having overcome the illicitness of what they had done, there was nothing in their way now to stop them from having sex whenever they got the chance.

Turning on his side, his hand ran over her body, carefully touching her tits and then stroking her belly and her mound.

It felt like a ridiculously brief time before she felt something jerk against her thigh as he became hard once more.

Stuart kissed her, his fingers continuously softly stroking her teats. Pushing him onto his back, she straddled his hips, pressing and sliding her piss-flaps along his shaft, her quim moving easily because of the juices she had lost.

Her arousal was building quickly, as was her son’s when she used her cunt to toss him off. He was staring at her intently, watching every movement she made. His hands fidgeted, wanting to play with her tits but restraining himself so as not to cause her any discomfort. When she had him panting, she raised her bottom, gripped his shaft, and fumbled it into position before lowering herself and gasping as it stretched her pussy.

Conscious that they may be stretched for time and that she had no idea when her other children may return, Susan bounced rapidly up and down on her son’s cock. He helped by holding her breasts so that they did not bounce as she felt that familiar feeling of her release drawing closer.

And then her eyes went blank, her body shuddering as he shot a second load into her, and she climaxed. Sitting upright, she clamped her thighs tightly against him and enjoyed the waves of pleasure washing through her body.

“I don’t want to rush us,” she said afterwards as they lay side by side. “But your brother and sisters could be home at any time. We don’t want them to catch us like this.”

As she tried to dress, Susan could not stop laughing. Although they’d had sex twice, Stuart couldn’t keep his hands off her, touching and teasing her as she tried to get into her clothes. It made her feel so special and attractive that she should deserve this treatment.

Dressed, they went downstairs to get coffee, sitting around the kitchen table as they spoke.

“I take it from your antics that I did not disappoint.”

I grinned and shook my head. “Certainly not. If I’d known that making those pictures of you would lead to what has happened, I would have done them earlier.”

She laughed again. “So, with the look on your face and your comments, I presume it is something you want us to do again.”

“Tonight?” I asked.

“No! That is too much of a risk. It would only take one of them to come to my room. We might have to play it by ear, but I’ll work something out.”

During the time my father was away, we managed another couple of occasions but found it difficult. My brother was seventeen, and my twin sisters were nearly sixteen. It meant none of them went to bed early; the sisters normally went about ten, and my brother, eleven or midnight, depending on whether they had school the following day. Weekends were easier; other than for mealtimes, they would be out with friends, but during the week, it was nigh on impossible.

Everyone had retired, the noises upstairs diminishing as one by one they fell asleep. I was dozing when a tap came at my door. It opened, and my mother’s head appeared around it. She said nothing but intimated that I join her downstairs. Grabbing a dressing gown, I made my way down, everywhere in darkness, until a soft click brought on a side lamp.

I could hear the kettle boiling as she made coffee. It was late, but I had no lessons until after dinner the next day. On the edge of the couch was a large blanket. This time of year, and with the heating off, the room had chilled.

Putting a cup on either side, she sat, pulled the blanket over her, and then held up one end and indicated that I should join her beneath it. Taking my hand, she placed it inside her robe, making a face for a second because my fingers were cold.

I withdrew my hand and blew to warm them up before replacing the hand inside her robe.

“Your father will be back next week, and I was missing you.”

I was missing her. Having hoped that we could fuck often, it had been disappointing to find that my siblings were always around and that opportunities were few and far between.

I was young and excitable, my loins full of lust. Mom was mature, but after we fucked, she allowed me a certain amount of liberties. It was as though she was reliving her youth. Away from prying eyes, we kissed, allowing me to fondle her breasts as well as her buttocks. She would grab my cock, rubbing frantically as she brought it erect, and then laugh as she left me wanting. I must admit to doing the same, so I suppose it was only fair.

Standing at the kitchen sink and with the others in the lounge, my hand would go beneath her skirt or dress and massage her pussy, leaving her wet before it was withdrawn.

Beneath the blanket, our robes were open, my hand fondling her breasts, which were healing nicely, as fingers on my other hand were inserted into her pussy. I had fucked her, and I was going to fuck her again, but presently, there were other things I wanted to do, things that had only happened in my fantasies.

Coming out from under the blanket, I gave a shiver. “Stretch out and make yourself comfortable,” I requested.

Once she was prone, I opened her legs and raised her knees. Maybe she thought I was going to enter her when I knelt, but instead, I slid backwards, nearly half of my torso hanging off the end of the couch. There was just enough light to see as I came face to face with her pussy, my mother taking a sharp breath as she realised what I intended to do.

“You don’t have to do…… ”

Her words were brought to an abrupt stop as my fingers spread her labia and my tongue and mouth took their first taste of her sex.

With my head buried between her legs, I could hear her moaning. She tasted sweet, my tongue poking into her moist passage as she thrust her vagina against my mouth. It was prudent that her robe was beneath her bottom; otherwise, she would leave a damp patch on the couch. When my lips compressed her clitoris, the shriek was loud enough to wake the other kids upstairs.

Stopping for a moment, I listened for any signs of movement before returning to licking her cunt and sucking at her clit. When she climaxed, she jammed a fist and her robe into her mouth, her hips and legs shuddering as juices showered my face. As I came up for air, she couldn’t stop giggling.

“Oh my God, Stuart. That was gorgeous.”

I’m pretty sure she was thinking of doing something similar to me, but by now, I wanted to fuck her. Spinning my mother around, I threw cushions on the floor and knelt between her open legs. With the open robe displaying her beautiful body, I rubbed my cock against her opening, teasing as it slid along her lips and brushed against her sensitive bud.

Taking her by surprise, my cock was rammed home as our groins smashed together. In the nick of time, I clamped my mouth over hers, muffling the cry before it could escape. As we fucked, my hands were continually on the move, up and down her legs and thighs, over her hips, and moving up her body as I fondled and caressed those magnificent tits.

When I supported her legs, she took the opportunity to touch herself. I was already nearing the point of no return as she reached down and started rubbing at her clit. I just pumped my shaft into her as hard as I could, unconcerned now at the noise both of us were making.

Her tits bounced and her belly wobbled, my cock savagely abusing her cunt until I watched her face change as she grimaced for a second and then threw her head back as she orgasmed. As she thrust her tits at me, I ejaculated, filling her hot, wet pussy with my cream.

Once we had recovered, we headed back to our rooms, the house still silent. What I wouldn’t have given to be joining my mother in her bed, but it was just a dream; with other people in the house, it was never going to happen, no matter how much I desired it.

My father would return in a timely fashion; why? I do not know. At times, he seemed like a stranger to us; we had spent our lives growing up without him most of the time. From what my mother said, any intimacy was long gone, and I believed her because once he disappeared again, she was rampant, looking for any opportunity for me to shag her.

It continued like this for the next two years, right up to the point where I left college and started working. It was never easy for us; we just took our chances whenever and wherever we could. Summertime was great; after tea, we could disappear because my siblings were old enough to take care of themselves. Yes, there were occasions when they were out, but it was always a risk; neither of us was sure when they would return, and somehow, it took the edge off our activities.

With the warmer evenings, we disappeared into the fields on the edge of town. It was full of spots where I knew we would not be disturbed. What made it all the more enjoyable was that I learned my mother had another side to her that, growing up, none of us had ever known about. She was promiscuous; on our outings, she would go without her bra and knickers, just a flimsy summer dress covering her nakedness as we walked on the edge of town and stopped to chat with people she knew.

There were other women, of course; it would have been suspicious if there weren’t. They came and went in rapid succession because the woman I really wanted was unobtainable in the grand scheme of things. I and my mother could never have the relationship we desired, but as time passed, surprisingly, it did get easier.

Susan knew about these women because Stuart made no secret of it. She did her best to accommodate them when he brought them home, but from time to time, she found herself becoming jealous.

Gemma was a young woman Stuart had dated on and off for the past eighteen months. She was pretty enough and fun to be with, but he had no long-term plans for their relationship to be any more than it currently was.

And then suddenly, he had a moment of madness. Perhaps it was one of those occasions when he’d had too much to drink; whichever it was, for some reason, including stupidity, he asked her to marry him, and she said yes!

“What were you thinking?” my mother asked me.

All I could do was shrug my shoulders. I had no idea why I had done it.

“We are only engaged,” I told her. “Gemma will have changed her mind long before I have to go through with it.”

It was what I told myself repeatedly, hoping and praying that it was true. Unfortunately, it wasn’t, and at age twenty-five, as I stood at the front of the church and watched my bride walk down the aisle, I knew I was making a big mistake.

Gemma and I rented a flat, and I moved out of my home. For the next two years, despite still occasionally shagging my mother, I was miserable, and then things started to happen that would change my life.

My brother had gone straight from school into work, and as my marriage was coming to an end, he was just taking the plunge. My two sisters were both dating and engaged, planning a double wedding in twelve months.

Gemma was convinced I was having an affair. I wasn’t, but I suppose, in a way, I was. It’s just that the other woman was my mother. When my brother moved out, my wife and I separated, and I moved back in, my mother and I resumed our activities, taking up where we had left off.

By the time I had my twenty-eighth birthday, she and I had the house mostly to ourselves each evening and weekend. It was around then that my father had a massive heart attack and passed away.

All the mourners had gone, and her younger son and daughters were the last to leave with their spouses. When Susan closed the door behind them, she breathed a sigh of relief. She had never planned for this to happen; she could never have hoped for this to happen, but here she was, a widow, with her eldest son still at home.

Walking back into the lounge, dressed in her ‘widow’s weeds,’ Stuart was waiting as he took her in his arms.

“Are you alright?” he asked her.

“I am now,” she told him.

She didn’t want to sound mean, but this was a situation that she could only have dreamed about. At fifty-two, she didn’t feel old; yes, she was twice her son’s age, but now that her husband was gone, she could make changes. Stuart had already agreed to pay the bills, so there was no problem there, and she still had her parent’s money, which was considerable, even after paying her son back.

She felt his hand beneath her chin as he raised her face. “I love you,” he said, just before he kissed her.

Taking his hand, Susan led him upstairs to her bedroom, a place that lately they had begun to share, spending nights together when her husband had been away.

“Will you unzip me?” she asked.

She knew that he would want to do more, which was why she had dressed for him. When the zip slid down to the top of her hips, Stuart opened the dress and began kissing her neck and shoulders.

Susan slipped it from her arms and dropped it to her ankles before stepping out of it as she kicked it to one side. In her heels, she stood nearly as tall as her son, turning so that he could take in her black underwear, including a suspender belt and dark stockings.

She could see that she immediately made an impression, with a bulge rising in her son’s pants. Kicking off her heels, she took to the bed, lying down and stretching out as she asked if he was going to get undressed.

Within minutes, I had removed my suit and thrown it in the direction of her dress. It was swiftly followed by my other clothing as I got naked. Bounding onto the bed, I opened her legs and dived between them, my nostrils picking up the aroma of her musk mixed with talc and perfume, a heady mixture as my mouth and lips nuzzled her pussy through the black lace panties.

I could feel her dampness, but with the evening and night ahead of us, I had decided to take my time, teasing, and making her climax before I got down to shagging her. Pulling the gusset to one side, I poked my tongue out and slid it gently and slowly along her slit.

Susan groaned and stretched taut as her son’s tongue made contact with her vagina. She seemed to have waited an age for this–a time when she and Stuart could live as a couple, at least within these four walls. She felt his fingers spreading her lips, his tongue delving deeper as he licked the entrance and as far as it would reach inside her pussy. The fire in her belly was growing as his mouth clamped tightly against her cunt. When he exposed her clitoris and flicked his tongue over its tip, she clamped his head in a vice-like grip.

There was something about the smoothness of stockings rubbing against my face–that line between nylon and flesh. I kissed her quim and her inner thighs, my tongue flicking out and tracing teasing patterns down both sides of her groin. Her thighs relaxed as I spread them wider, pulling her buttocks apart so that from her pussy, I could trace patterns down to her anus. Feeling her shudder when I ran a finger over her puckered entrance, I inserted it first into her vagina, lubricating the digit, and then slowly inserted it up her arse.

As she felt something penetrate her back passage and then his lips return to her clitoris, Susan jumped. The sensations exploding inside her quim caught her unawares as she began to climax. As her hips squirmed, thrusting her fanny against his mouth, the waves of pleasure rose, consuming first her genitals, then her belly, and making her nipples erect before exploding in her brain.

She whipped her head from side to side, screaming and crying as her orgasm gathered pace, aided by several fingers that Stuart had jammed up her cunt as he continued to suck her clit.

When she finally stopped whimpering and her body started to relax, he turned her over and raised her buttocks. She felt her rectum expand as his cock slid inside her rear, his hand sliding beneath her as fingers were again pushed into her cunt. He still wasn’t fucking her; it was more of a tease as he fingered her quim and reignited her arousal.

What he was doing had the desired effect, and within a brief time, she was on the cusp once more. She had no idea where it had come from; it wasn’t her toy from its secret hiding place; Stuart still knew nothing of that. This was slimmer and shorter, and it felt cold and hard as he withdrew his shaft and inserted the item up her arse. Suddenly, vibrations filled her rectum and pussy, just as his cock was thrust into her cunt as he shagged her steadily.

She was drooling, the cover beneath her face damp with spittle. Her buttocks, stuck up in the air, were being penetrated by something up her arse, which sent pleasure signals throughout her body, and her son’s cock, which hammered into her cunt.

Susan felt his groin slamming into her buttocks; with each thrust, she moved up the bed, only to be pulled back before he shoved his dick into her again.

With mounting pressure, she knew she was seconds away from exploding again. The dam suddenly burst, her body beginning to shake and quiver as her second orgasm consumed her and oblivion began to beckon.

When her eyes opened, Stuart’s grinning face was the first thing she saw. She felt tired; her brain and body were sated.

“Hello, Susan,” she heard him say, and she felt a warmth in her soul.

It was the first time he had used her name properly. Perhaps it was a sign that, in a way, they were no longer mother and son; that barrier had been crossed long ago. Now they were lovers, partners, and a couple.

Susan wanted to sleep, but the evening had only just gotten started. She lost count of how many times she climaxed or how much spunk he deposited up her flue; she just knew that she was the happiest she had been in a long time.

I suppose we developed a routine of our own. To outsiders, even my own family, I was simply someone with a failed marriage who still lived at home with his mother. Maybe they pitied me as their marriages went from strength to strength and children appeared. But I was happy; I still had my mother, and in more ways than they could ever imagine.

Would I have liked children? I don’t know; I never thought about it. Mom was at an age where it may not have been possible anymore, and to allow such a thing to happen would have ruined what we had.

Behind closed doors, I replaced my father. At least I was here every night and weekend, rather than being away. As far as I can tell, Susan appreciated my presence. That is how I refer to her now, except when my brother or sisters are here. We are a couple, even if we do not have a piece of paper to confirm it.

Susan has changed. Gone were the mature woman’s clothes she had previously worn. In their place were shorter skirts or tight pants. The tops emphasised her still-slim figure and especially her tits, which she was rightly proud of, especially when she went without her bra. Her nipples made protrusions when she was excited, something that, with her son in tow, happened often.

It was his thirtieth birthday and her fifty-forth and she had organised a weekend away for the two of them. In the big city, they were just another two people, with nothing to distinguish them from any others. While it had been noticeable when he was younger, to the casual eye now, their age difference wasn’t sufficient to warrant a second glance.

Walking hand in hand, she was excited. They were heading back to their hotel to meet one of her daughters. Gillian, the eldest of her twins by five minutes, lived in the city, and they had arranged to meet up. It was the second day of their short break, and she was loving the freedom of being able to do things and act in a carefree way.

On their morning visit to see some of the sights, Stuart teased her incessantly. With the warm weather, she had chosen a short skirt and a vest top. Without her bra, her nipples had been constantly erect because, at every opportunity, he had tweaked them. She noticed the glances men gave her as they passed, obviously starting at her tits. What surprised her were the glances she also got from several other women. Their eyes focused on her bosom and especially her teats before rising to meet hers as they casually ran the tip of their tongues over their lips.

If anything, it felt even more erotic than the men looking at her.

“I’m getting wet,” she told her son.

Stuart laughed. “Is it the thought that these men who are looking would like to fuck you?”

Susan shook her head. “It’s not the men. It’s the women. I’m not like that, but for some reason, when they stare at me, it turns me on.

“Well, if we get back to the hotel quickly, I can always……” He stuck out his tongue and wiggled it around. Susan immediately knew what he was offering.

It only made her hotter and wetter as they sped up; the hotel was now only five minutes away.

In their room, they should just have time. Throwing herself on the bed, she hitched her skirt up to her waist and removed her panties, opening her legs wide as Stuart went to his knees. She felt his hot breath on her vagina, and then she wanted to shriek as his fingers opened her up and his tongue found its way into her inner sanctum.

She needed this; all of his teasing that morning had brought her to a point where her body was demanding sex. Although they did not have time to fuck, this would suffice until tonight, when she wanted Stuart to shag her properly.

His tongue slid over her flesh, moving between her cunt and ring piece as he attempted to keep her juices from wetting the cover beneath her bottom. His hands and fingers seemed to be everywhere. One moment they would sneak beneath her top, massaging her tits before twisting and pulling at her nipples; the next, they were slipping inside her pussy, or better yet, inside her anus.

Her upper body writhed as her climax became imminent. She pushed her top up and began playing with her breasts, squeezing the flesh harshly before rolling her nipples between her fingers and thumbs. When the dam burst, waves of pleasure rushed through her body like a tsunami as she cried out, her orgasm saturating her brain with ecstatic signals just as a knock came at their bedroom door.

In a flash, the euphoria of her orgasm was pushed aside as she sat upright.

“Shit! Just a minute,” she called.

Susan pulled her top down and rearranged her skirt, but she did not have time to replace her panties as she kicked them beneath the bed. Stuart was frantically wiping his mouth and chin on the back of his arm, trying to rid himself of his mother’s juices, which had gushed everywhere when she had climaxed.

Trying to look calm and collected despite the flush to her skin, she got to her feet and went to open the door.

Gillian threw her arms around her mother’s neck as they hugged and kissed each other’s cheeks.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “You look a little flushed.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. We have been out in the sun all morning and were just dozing while we waited for you to arrive.”

When Gillian kissed her brother, her nostrils picked up the scent of something, but, momentarily, she could not put her finger on what it was. She just presumed they had a room each; why were they both resting in the same room and on the same bed? She put the thought to the back of her mind as the three of them caught up with any up-to-date news.

After Stuart and her mother had freshened up, they had lunch downstairs in the hotel restaurant before heading out as Gillian showed them more sights. She had something that she wanted to speak to her mother about, but not in the presence of her brother.

When an opportunity arose, she whispered her request.

“I need to speak to you, Mom, but alone. I don’t want Stuart to know yet.”

“Wait until we get back, and I’ll ask him to disappear for a while,” her mom told her.

They had a meal out, and when they returned, Susan asked her son to get a drink while she had a word with her daughter.

Up in her room, Susan asked,

“How come you didn’t bring your husband and daughter?”

“Tom took her to see his parents because I told him this was only a flying visit.”

“What is it you want to talk to me about?” her mother asked.

Gillian hung her head, unable to meet her mother’s eyes.

“I’ve been having an affair!”

“Who is he?” Susan asked.

“She!”

For a moment, Susan was stunned. Her daughter was having an affair with another woman.

“I love Tom, but every so often, I get these feelings. More of an urge than anything else, a desperate need to be touched by another woman–I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help it. I’m just so scared that if he finds out, he will leave me.

Susan was in shock. But instantly understood her daughter’s dilemma. Earlier, hadn’t she been turned on when other women gazed at her? Was it only a short step from wondering to actually doing something?

“Why didn’t you want Stuart to know? You might find you get more sympathy from him than anyone else.”

Gillian shrugged her shoulders. “We ribbed him when his marriage broke up. Now it looks like I could be heading down the same road.”

“I haven’t got an answer yet. Why not pop over again tomorrow and bring the family? I’m sure we can find a solution.”

That night, in bed together, she told her son. He chuckled at first, but then, much to her surprise, he voiced a thought.

“So, my sister is part lesbian. Have you ever considered another woman, Mom? You told me this morning it was turning you on; perhaps it is something you would like to try occasionally.”

What’s that got to do with your sister?” she asked.

Susan could see the look on her son’s face–a mixture of mischievousness and what he assumed was obvious. She was still at a loss as to what he was insinuating.

At last, he gave her an explanation of what he was thinking.

“If she is seeing someone else, it is only a matter of time before she gets caught. They get seen together, or someone says something. It could even be the person she is seeing who eventually causes trouble. Compare that to how long we have been having sex. People are less inclined to believe that you, as my mother, could be having sex with me, as your son. The same would apply to your daughter.”

Susan now understood what he was suggesting. That she replace whoever this woman was that his sister was seeing. To say she was stunned is an understatement. Just because other women that morning had looked at her and made her feel aroused did not mean she actually wanted to sleep with them.

Presently, she did not want to think about it, especially when he slid lower, and his mouth latched onto her nipple. When fingers skirted over her belly and delved between her legs, she simply pushed the thought to one side–there were more important things first. She moaned loudly when they penetrated her quim, wondering if the people in the next room could hear. He fingered her slowly, massaging her vagina and spreading her lips.

When he eventually thrust his cock into her cunt, she was already atop her plateau, hanging on by her fingertips as he began to shag her. The first orgasm came soon after penetration; there was no respite as he fucked her furiously, one climax merging into another as she cried and moaned continuously.

When he eventually shot his load up her flue, she was already hovering on the edges of oblivion. She had no memory of Stuart rolling away from her and lying next to her panting. She felt nothing when he covered her over and curled in behind her, his limp shaft pressing against her buttocks.

It wasn’t until the following morning that she awoke, feeling slightly aroused because Stuart had his arm draped over her and was playing with her nipples. Dreamily, she grinned to herself, feeling his erection pressing against her as it jerked occasionally, and she thrust her rear against him.

It had been nearly twenty-four hours, and Gillian had been turning the thought over in her head. It had suddenly come to her last night; she now knew what she associated the smell of her brother’s cheek with.

Sex! That is what she was reminded of–the smell of bodily secretions mixed with sweat. That wasn’t possible, she initially concluded; there was no way her mother and brother would be doing something like that. But she remembered their room, wondering why there was only a double bed and not two singles, plus, why did her mother look so flushed when she had first arrived at their hotel room?

The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that something was not quite right.

As she and her family made their way into the city to meet her mother and brother, she knew she had a decision to make. Tom was already becoming suspicious of her frequent disappearances, and she was going to have to tell her present lover that their relationship must end.

Meeting up, they were making their way to one of the many parks. Stuart and Tom were ahead, swinging Diane, Gillian’s daughter, between them as she walked with her mother.

“I told Stuart last night about your problem.”

“I suppose that caused him plenty of merriment,” Gillian replied.

She noticed her mother had suddenly gone very quiet.

“He made a suggestion.” Gillian waited for her mother to continue, but she seemed too embarrassed to say anymore.

As the silence continued, Gillian asked a question of her own.

“Is something going on between you and Stuart? I know it sounds ridiculous, but I got the impression yesterday that you two might have been fraternising.” She couldn’t bring herself to use the word “sex.”

Susan refused to look at her; there was no way she could hide the shame that her face displayed.

Gillian suddenly knew that her suspicions had just been confirmed. Her mother and brother were sleeping with each other, which stunned her.

“How long has it been going on?” she stuttered.

“Seven years.” She heard her mother reply quietly.

She was speechless. They had been indulging in their liaison since before she was even eighteen. How had none of them ever noticed, and how had her father never realised?

“Why Mom? Why would either of you do something like that?”

“Because he makes me happy. He makes me feel like a woman again, something your father never did.”

Throughout the day, they continued their whispered conversation when opportunities arose, with Gillian trying to come to terms with what her mother and Stuart had been doing for years.

With her daughter now knowing the truth, Susan saw no reason in trying to hide what they did, as Gillian was told of how she and Stuart lived.

“No one knows; no one suspects. We behave in company, but when we are alone, well, we live as any other couple would and share the same bed every night.”

It was only towards the end of the afternoon that she remembered something her mother had said.

“What was Stuart’s suggestion?” she asked.

Susan went quiet again. “If her daughter was shocked now, Stuart’s suggestion was going to shock her even more,” she thought.

“He is sure that eventually, you are going to get caught. He suggests that you give up this woman, and when you have the need, you come to me.”

It took Gillian a moment to figure out what her brother was suggesting. Compounding the fact that he and their mother were committing incest, his idea was that she do the same and have sex with her mother.

“And you agree with this?” she asked, shocked.

Her mother shrugged her shoulders. “It was something that happened the other morning. I caught some women looking at me, you know, like that. I found it erotic, but it is something I have never considered before. I don’t even know if I could do it with another woman; it feels strange.

That was where the conversation ended as the afternoon came to an end and Gillian and her family headed home.

Susan and Stuart had a couple more days before their return. The following evening, he phoned his sister, telling his mother he was popping out for an hour while she rested.

Meeting up with Gillian, he was nervous; his mother had disclosed that she now knew what they were doing.

“Are you happy with the situation, Stuart?” she asked.

“Yes! I don’t see her as our mother anymore. I see her as a woman–a woman I love. I know it is wrong in other people’s eyes, but we are happy; what is wrong with that?”

“And this idea of yours?”

“Stop thinking of her as our mom; think of her as a woman, just like I do. Is she someone you would go to bed with when you need to be touched by another female? The advantage is that no one, including Tom, would ever guess that something was going on between the two of you.”

“You say you love her! You wouldn’t mind something like that happening?”

Stuart smiled at her. “You are my sister; all I want is to see you as happy as I am.”

When they parted, he headed back to the hotel. He hadn’t disclosed fully what was on his mind; his sister was not a schoolgirl anymore; she had turned into a rather attractive young woman, and after spending several days with her, he wondered what it may be like to take her to bed.

Having returned home, they had heard nothing from Gillian, with Stuart assuming that what he suggested was not to his sister’s taste.

It was nearly five months later, with Christmas approaching, that she suddenly paid them a surprise visit with her daughter.

“I’d thought I’d come through and have a couple of days with you and see what everyone is doing for Christmas,” she told me and Mom.

It was only later, when my mother told me the real reason for her visit, that I was any wiser.

“The other woman has gone,” she told me in confidence. “She is wondering if I want to try.”

I knew what she was asking, despite her appearing to be extremely nervous.

“I think you are going to have to lead her by the hand,” I said to my sister later. “Perhaps a few drinks might be in order this evening–unless, of course, you wanted to join us.”

I winked at her so that she knew what I was suggesting, which made her just as nervous as my mother, even though I had meant it as a joke.

For years, my mother and I had shared the same bed, so it seemed strange to be relegated to my old room for once. Gillian and Diane had been allotted her old room, and the youngster was in there, fast asleep.

Downstairs, the drinks flowed. It was easy to see that my mother was tipsy; what I hadn’t expected was for my sister to be polishing off drinks at the same rate. When I eventually suggested that they may want to retire, it felt as though I was going to have to force them up to the bedroom.

Susan led the way; despite the drinks she had consumed, she was still scared to death. Her daughter followed behind, and a glance told her that she wasn’t faring much better. In the bedroom, although they sat close, neither of them was yet ready to undress.

When she turned to say something, her daughter decided to take the initiative, her face coming closer as their lips met. For a moment, Susan was stunned, sitting immobile with the shock. She closed her eyes, and suddenly, she could imagine Stuart kissing her as she began to enjoy it. The longer it progressed, the more she began to realise that she was becoming aroused. Feeling bold, she moved her hand, raising it until she could cup her daughter’s breast. It seemed to spur Gillian to do more as Susan felt her daughter cup one of her tits. An intense feeling erupted between her thighs, with her pussy rapidly demanding to be touched.

“Did she dare?” Susan wondered, her other hand going beneath Gillian’s dress and working its way up her thigh as their mouths continued to grind together.

When she reached her daughter’s panties, she hesitated. Their mouths broke apart momentarily, both of them gasping.

“Touch me,” Gillian urged, Susan’s hand completing the last few centimetres as her fingers traced a pattern across her daughter’s cunt.

Gillian closed her eyes for a second, her head tilting back as she groaned.

When it came forward again, there was excitement and devilment in her eyes. Her hand went beneath her mother’s skirt, inching upwards until she encountered the tiny panties, before pushing the gusset to one side as she stroked the damp pussy she found.

Susan nearly exploded, that first touch to her quim sending a jolt through her as though she had stuck her fingers into a socket. From being damp, she suddenly found herself wet, her legs starting to shake, slightly at first but growing in momentum as the sensations went from her thighs to her pussy and then to her stomach and breasts.

When Gillian’s fingers spread her labia, she could not stop her body from convulsing. No longer were her nerves making her body shake; it was adrenaline and arousal consuming her, especially when those same fingers slipped inside her pussy.

When they finally withdrew, it was only a short respite, just long enough for her blouse to be unbuttoned and removed. No longer did she feel embarrassed as her daughter pulled her breasts from their cups. And then a mouth was sucking and licking at her teats, teeth nipping at the expanding buds.

Susan’s bra disappeared, followed by her skirt, and then her panties. Finally, she was naked as her daughter’s hands flowed over her body. And then it was her turn–Gillian turning around so that the zip on the back of her dress could be slid down. Before she could remove it, Susan had unhooked the bra, her hands sliding inside the garments as she cupped her daughter’s breasts and twisted at the nipples, which became distended between her fingers.

Gillian groaned, more of a growl rising from her throat. The dress was quickly discarded as she wriggled out of her panties before turning back to her mother, the two of them now completely naked.

Susan was pulled down; her daughter spreading her legs and diving between them. The mouth, licking and slurping at her cunt, at first felt no different to her son, but then the tongue began to do things to her that he never dreamed of.

This, she decided, was the benefit of having sex with another female; Gillian knew exactly where to lick and suck to illicit the utmost pleasure.

“I want to do the same to you,” Susan uttered.

Gillian moved. “Turn around, Mom.”

Susan spun, lying on her side, and facing her daughter as she crooked her leg. She watched as Gillian settled down, her head going back between her legs as she munched on her mother’s pussy once more. Spreading her daughter’s legs, Susan lowered her head as she got her first smell and taste of a moist cunt. With her pussy inflamed with lust, she spread her daughter’s piss flaps and stuck her tongue against the hot, wet flesh.

The room was quiet except for the sound of muffled groans and moans, hips thrusting sloppy twats against even wetter faces until Susan felt her surge begin. Such was the intensity of her climax that it intensified her desire to consume even more of her daughter’s pussy as she heard and felt Gillian begin to orgasm.

She had never had an orgasm like it, not even with her son. The intensity of her climax was overwhelming, and her body was still recovering when she felt Gillian’s fingers force their way into her pussy. Any thoughts Susan had previously had about sex with another female were abandoned, her body alive again to her daughter’s touch.

She just followed what was being done to her by Gillian, plunging her fingers into her daughter’s pussy. And then, just for good measure, she did something she had learned from Stuart; a finger of her other hand went up her daughter’s anus and made her yelp for a second.

It hadn’t taken long before they were embroiled in a further climax, with Susan’s body feeling weak after two tremendous orgasms. It wasn’t to be the end of their night together; before the dawn light filtered through the partially closed curtains, illuminating the bodies wrapped around each other, they had experienced many more climaxes.

I wasn’t jealous, not really–well, maybe a little. I had heard the noises coming from my mother’s room during the night, imagining what was taking place in the bed that I normally occupied. The following morning, I had gotten Diane up and dressed, with the two women not appearing until late morning.

Nothing was said when they came downstairs, and it wasn’t until after my sister had left that my mother commented on the previous night.

“I never realised how good sex could be with a woman,” she told me.

“Does that mean Gillian has converted you?” I had visions of my mother preferring my sister over me and that the time in her bed was over.

“Of course not. It was very enjoyable and different, but I still have the desire for cock.” After our time together, I was now used to my mother using words and language that I had never heard as a child.

And so, we returned to our way of living. Each night I shared her bed, and maybe once a month or a couple of months, Gillian would stay over, and I would be relegated to my bedroom. There was never an occasion when I was invited to join them, even though I dropped hints and fantasised about having two women in a bed.

Mom was seventy-four when she passed, a few days after our joint birthday. At fifty, I had spent over half of my life with her, and now I was alone. The thought of dating at my age filled me with dread, and so I prepared myself to live the rest of my life alone.

Although my siblings popped in from time to time, it was a solitary existence for the next twelve months until Gillian visited me one weekend.

“I’m leaving Tom. I’ve found out he has been having an affair for the last six years.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Haven’t you been doing the same thing for nearly twenty years? I know it was only occasionally, but you were still cheating on him with Mom.”

“I suppose so, but it just felt different.”

“What can I do to help?” I asked.

“Can I move in with you?”

“What, you and Diane?”

Gillian’s daughter was not a child anymore. At twenty-two, she would shortly finish college, and in all probability, it would not be many years before she was thinking of starting a family of her own.

I helped my sister move back home and into her old room. I continued in Mom’s room, and Diane, when she returned for the holidays, would have my old room. At first, it felt strange having her back in the house, but if nothing else, I wasn’t lonely anymore.

It was great to have company once again, but there was a downside, which from time to time made me feel sad. At forty-five, Gillian looked like our mother and was near enough the same age as when mom and I first jumped into the sack together.

Her relationship with our mother had continued over the years, so I presumed that, having ditched her husband, she would in due course find herself a new girlfriend.

She had been back for nearly two months when she came to my room one night. While I had gone back to wearing a t-shirt and pyjama bottoms before bed, once in my room and beneath the covers, I was naked.

I couldn’t ever remember seeing my sister in a nightdress, especially one that was partially transparent. It was a jolt to my system; for a moment, it could have been my mother standing there.

“On her birthday, it was as if she knew she hadn’t long, and she asked me to look after you.”

“I’m quite capable of looking after myself,” I said a little haughtily.

Astonishingly, she told me to move over as she slipped beneath the covers.

“Not with all things,” came her mischievous reply.

When her hand rested on my belly and then inched downward, there was only one thing my cock could do, and that was to respond to her touch.

After so many years of shagging our mother, I still jumped a little when Gillian wrapped her hand around my shaft.

It felt the same and yet different. Although Gillian had the appearance of our mother, there were subtle differences. The first was when my hand slid beneath her nightdress, seeking her breasts; she was larger than Mom had been. As I twisted at her teats, she jammed her mouth against mine, her lips sucking at my invading tongue.

My sister seemed to know what she wanted as I was forced onto my back, and she straddled my hips. Taking her time, she slowly drew the nightdress over her head, her glorious orbs lifting as she stretched her arms upward and then settling back to her full, jutting breasts.

While I played with them, Gillian continued to run her hands up and down my shaft, teasing the plump knob as she slid the skin up and down. The ache in my bollocks was growing, and my cock throbbed in anticipation. As I watched, she raised her bottom and pulled my penis beneath her as it brushed against her pussy. And then it was as though the gates of heaven had opened as she lowered herself, and I felt that initial tightness as it entered her cunt.

It was well worth waiting for. I had never expected this day to come as I watched her bounce up and down on my cock. Fourteen months had passed since I had last had a shag, with my right hand having to do the honours when the mounting pressure became unbearable.

Gillian had thought long and hard before coming to her brother’s room. Over the years, once she and her mother had become accustomed to what they were doing, they talked after they had exhausted themselves. Sooner or later, the subject was always going to raise its head. She had asked her mother what it was like to have sex with her brother.

Her mother had been enthused about what she and Stuart did, going into great detail at times, which both astonished and aroused Gillian. And yet, while she was married, she could not bring herself to imagine having sex with another man, even if he was her brother.

When his cock expanded her cunt, Gillian growled deeply; Stuart wasn’t the only one to have gone without. Since she started to suspect her husband, sex had been off the menu.

Moving up and down slowly, she savoured the sensations of Stuart’s cock fucking her; the fact he was her brother added excitement to the exhilarating feelings she was already experiencing. When his hands fondled her breasts and especially her nipples, she leaned forward, dangling her tits over his face. His head shot upward, his mouth latching onto a teat as his tongue flicked across the hardening bud as his lips sucked.

She could feel the tension building in her belly and pussy as she groaned loudly, and then she found herself hoisted as Stuart began ramming his cock up her flue.

Gillian closed her eyes as the climax began to consume her, Stuart’s shaft now rapidly pounding her cunt as he lifted her from her knees with each thrust. Her orgasm exploded, waves of pleasure surging through her body as she felt her brother’s cock jerk inside her as he unleashed spurts of cum deep inside her twat.

That first night, after making love again, she eventually returned to her room, and I wondered if it was to be a one-off event. But over the coming months, it happened more frequently until, eventually, Gillian replaced my mother in my bed.

As we grew older together, I did wonder from time to time. Years previously, I had fantasised about having sex with both Gillian and my mother at the same time. Now, I had a new fantasy: Diane was grown up and equally as gorgeous as her mother. Would a time ever come when I would share the two of them, or would I be an incapable old man before I managed to lure my niece into my bed?