The Adventures of a Slut Mommie Ch. 02

Literotic asexstories – The Adventures of a Slut Mommie Ch. 02 by JohnMurray4173,JohnMurray4173 Note: May I please have the italic sections kept?

The Adventures of a Slut Mommie.

Chapter 2: Camera Slut.

Hi readers. Katie Muggleton again. Let me continue my story so you can understand how and why I became a slut mommie.

Earlier, towards the end of the first part of my story, I’d been unable to resist my son’s advances and succumbed to my baser desires by surrendering my willing pussy for him to cum in. My son made me feel sexy and desirable for the first time in many months, and I wanted to show him my appreciation. So after he came inside me, I knelt submissively and sucked on his gorgeous cock until he orgasmed into my mouth.

Giving oral sex is something I enjoy immensely, but until that night when Johnny climaxed and called me ‘his little Mommie slut, I’d never before orgasmed as I gave head. Therefore, as we walked back to my room, I wondered why being called ‘slut’ was turning me on so much.

It never had previously, although other than the occasional boneheaded, small-dicked tosser shouting it out his car window at me as I strutted down a street, no one had used that word when referencing me.

‘Was it just the naughtiness of the word?’ I wondered. ‘Katie,’ I told myself. ‘You’ve masturbated while fantasising about being a willing slut for dominant men many times, so it’s probably only your subconscious mixing Johnny saying it with your fantasy, and you’re reacting–nothing to worry about there.’

Thinking furiously as I climbed the stairs, I became aware that my son deliberately walked behind me so he could watch my sexy ass sway and added a little bounce to my step. As I walked, I thought, ‘The hypnotherapist has implanted the word slut into my psyche as a trigger for sexual arousal.’ Determined to do something about it, I decided to call his office as soon as they opened.

I reached my door and was about to enter when Johnny placed his hand on my ass and asked, “Mom? Do you want me to sleep with you tonight?”

As his large hands caressed my curvy bottom, a new tingling began between my thighs, and I thought, ‘Lawd, do I want that!’ But, instead, I turned towards him and sternly said, “No, Johnny. What we did downstairs can never happen again. It was wrong. You were wrong to start it, and I was wrong to let you. This one time has to be our dirty little secret that we hide forever, okay?” But when I turned, Johnny’s hand caressed my vulva, and even to me, my voice sounded breathy with sexual excitement.

“If you say so, Mom,” Johnny agreed, but his sure hands cupped my large, firm breasts, and his thumbs stroked enticingly across my hardened nipples. “If you no longer wish to be my beautiful, little Mommie slut, say so now, and I’ll stop, okay?”

Summoning the last shreds of my willpower, I backed through the door and closed it. Turning, I sank to the floor and leaned against it. Then, pulling my feet up to my luscious bottom, I spread my knees and pushed two fingers into my sopping pussy. Then, when I found my clit with my thumb, I groaned as a shattering orgasm raced through me. Chuckling, Johnny said, “Goodnight, Mom. If you’re unable to sleep, come and lie with me.”

Peeling off my sodden nightie, I stumbled to the bed and gratefully fell in. ‘Sleep will make things better,’ I thought as I fell into an undisturbed slumber.

By morning, I felt so guilty about what I’d done that I lay in bed until I heard Johnny leave. After showering, I went downstairs to get breakfast. My daughter, much as she’d been when I got home the previous night, sat at the breakfast bar. This morning, she wore a pink, skimpy, V-necked teddy that didn’t reach her tiny matching thong and exposed her cute belly button. Combined, they left all but her nipples and slit uncovered.

Teasing, I said, “Nice view, Kristy.”

Looking down and smiling, my daughter replied, “Do you think so, Mom? Maybe I’ll loan it to you for when Dad comes home next week.”

“It barely covers your 16-Cs,” I pointed out. “It’ll never fit over my Double-Ds.”

Taking it off, her delicious breasts bouncing softly, Kristy said, “Sure it will, see? It undoes at the front so that you can loosen it off.” She undid the laces holding the cups closed, then added, “Here, now you put it on.”

My mouth dry, I stared at my daughter’s lusciously displayed breasts, unaware of anything but the tingling between my legs as I watched their slow lift and fall as she breathed. Kristy lifted the teddy again to indicate I should put it on, and after dragging my eyes off my daughter’s naked bosom, I took it. Then, taking my sweat top off, I pulled it over my head and, after a struggle, got it positioned over my large breasts. “I’m not sure the laces are long enough,” my daughter giggled as she tried to tie them together.

Finally making a tiny bow, Kristy stepped back and said, “Oh, wow, Mom! That is so sexy!” She stepped out of her thong and handed it to me. Pulling on my sweatpants so they fell to the floor and exposed my pantyless ass, she added, “Here, put these on so you can check how you look.”

Trying not to stare at my daughter’s sensually naked body and intensely aware that the gusset of her thong was warm and damp, I wriggled her thong up my shapely thighs and settled it over my recently shaved pussy. They were at least a size too small and clung to my vulva like a second skin, emphasising my pussy’s assets better than being naked would.

Kristy held my upper arm and guided me into the foyer, where I’d placed a full-length mirror to check my appearance before going out. Looking at my reflection, with my big, firm breasts threatening to burst out of my top and my clit and slit clearly defined, I gasped, “I can’t wear these, Kristy! I look almost pornographic!”

“Yeah, you can, Mom,” my daughter giggled. “Stroll into your room wearing this, and Dad is either going to shit, have a heart attack, or cum on the spot!”

Kristy stood behind me, staring at my lush form in the mirror. Almost dreamily, she moved closer and pressed her hard, naked nipples against my back. Stretching her hands around my tummy, Kristy kissed the nape of my neck as she hugged me. After several soft kisses as I shivered and bit my lower lip, she sensuously slid her hands under the teddy onto my tightly held breasts.

Trying not to moan as the tingle moved higher and settled wet and squishy in my yearning pussy, I forced myself to be calm and quietly asked, “Kristy? What are you doing?”

Lightly biting where my neck and shoulder meet, my all-time favourite erogenous zone, my daughter purred, “Shh, Mommie, I’m making you feel good as you did me yesterday, is all.”

Fighting off the desire for her to continue, one incestuous interlude with one of my kids was one too many, I shook my shoulders and broke free of her embrace and growled, “Kristy Ann Muggleton, that’s enough!” Angry at myself but taking it out on her, I added, “It is as inappropriate for you to do that to me as it was for me to do it to you yesterday.”

Because I’d forced her back into the Mom/daughter role, tears filled my daughter’s expressive, big brown eyes, and she sniffed, blushed embarrassedly, and looked at the ground. Holding her fingers with her other hand, she lifted her heel off the ground and submissively twisted her knee back and forth. “Sorry, Mom,” she said contritely. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Knowing I’d made a mess of something I could have handled better, I took her in my arms and softly kissed her ‘bee stung’ lips. “No, baby girl,” I apologised. “It’s I that’s sorry. I liked what you were doing. Too much, maybe. That’s why I panicked and yelled at you.”

Looking shyly up at me through her eyelashes, Kristy asked, “I made you feel good, Mom? Did you have that same squishy feeling I get in my tummy when I’m about to cum?”

Flushing red with embarrassment, I giggled nervously and replied, “Well, it’s a little lower than my tummy, if you know what I mean. But yes, honey. You made me feel squishy.”

Grinning happily, my daughter bounced on her toes, causing her lush C-cups to jiggle enticingly, and clapped her hands. “Do you think it’s the same with women and men, Mom?” She innocently asked. “If I had a boyfriend and kissed him where I kissed you, would he get squishy, too?”

Giggling, I answered, “No, honey. If you did that to your boyfriend, he’d get very stiff instead!”

Suddenly realising we stood in front of a door with clear glass panels on either side, she was naked, and I almost so, Kristy matched my giggle, then said, “Oh, my Gawd! Look at us flashing the neighbours and anyone on the street! Anyone seeing us would think we’re nothing but sluts!”

My body reacted to that word instantly, and with a low growl, I shuddered and orgasmed.

Somewhere in the distance, I heard Kristy saying, “Oh, my, Gawd, Mom! Are you okay? Mom? Mom? Do I need to call an ambulance?”

Realising that I’d slumped to the ground with the intensity of my climax, I scrambled to my feet. Knowing I needed help, I tried to tell Kristy of my suspicions about what Edgar Fontaine had done to me, but my mind drifted away as I sagged back onto the floor. As my mind went blank, I saw,… flicker: image: my knees lewdly spread as lusciously full, red-painted lips descend onto my pussy. “Cunt”, I hear Edgar correct… “Kristy, I’m okay,” I mumble as… flicker: image: red painted lips surround my clitoris and a long, manicured, red-nailed finger slides into my pu – cunt… “You’re not okay, Mom,” my daughter desperately says as she tries… flicker: image: Liz’s probing finger finds my G-spot, and I moan into her pussy as I climax… to rouse me.

“Mom, wake up!” Kristy shouts.

My daughter’s shout snapped me out of my reveries. But before I could voice my concerns, Edgar’s face clouded my vision, and I heard myself saying, “I swear I will follow your process”, and my throat closed. Unable to tell Kristy what had happened to me at the clinic, I tried to tell her my current problems, but every time I did, the feeling of lassitude washed over my body again. Concentrating hard, I formed the words to warn my daughter that I was in trouble. But just as I thought I had them held solidly in my mind, they burst as a branch covered in multi-coloured butterflies does when you shake it, and fluttered away on glittering ephemeral wings.

The only thought about the subject that I still held was that I needed to cancel my next appointment, but as soon as that played in my head, I saw Edgar’s face and heard, “You will return, as you must return. You need what I offer, Katie. I will set you free, and not only from your nicotine addiction.” The warm, squishy feeling between my thighs was now white hot heat in my pussy. Desperate not to orgasm in front of my daughter again, I stood and ran for my bedroom.

Locking the door behind me, I hurried across to the en suite, entered and locked that door, too. Then sitting on the loo, I lifted and spread my knees before pulling the panty’s gusset aside and stuffing two fingers into my slippery with need vagina. Seconds after my thumb found my clitoris, I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming my orgasm to the sky.

“Mom?” Kristy called from outside the en suite’s door. Vaguely wondering how she was in my bedroom when I’d locked the door, I gathered my scattered wits and managed, “Yeah?”

“Are you okay? She asked.

Lying because I couldn’t tell the truth. Not about why I had to run, nor about the trouble I was in, I said, “Yes, baby girl. Your Mommie just thought she was going to puke, so she ran here.”

“Referring to yourself in the third person, Mom?” Kristy questioned. “Not cool! Now, what’s really going on?”

I hated myself for having to do it, but the only way to stop her unanswerable questions was to make her see me as her Mom first again. So, taking a deep breath, I snapped through the door, “Kristy Ann Muggleton, do not take that tone with me. I am your mother, for goodness sake! Not one of your giddy girlfriends.”

There was silence from the other room, and I heard the door close. Sighing, I removed Kristy’s sleepwear, cleaned my pussy, changed into a sundress, and gathered the washing to begin my chores. Kristy was nowhere in sight, which saddened me as I knew I had some fences to mend. Johnny was absent, too, but he’d be at football training and be back around lunchtime. I planned to ensure I wasn’t alone with him until I’d seen Edgar, lest I find myself on my knees before him or bent over offering my pussy again.

The next few days were ones of uncomfortable silences when my daughter and I were alone together and leering, knowing grins from Johnny every time he thought his sister wasn’t watching. I tried to talk to Kristy many times, but as I opened my mouth, a hurt expression developed on her face, and she’d turned away, rebuffing my attempts.

Johnny kept talking to me and attempting to get me alone, but I was able to avoid situations that could lead to me being in compromising positions with him. But, whenever we passed, he’d cup my ass familiarly and whisper that he hoped we’d soon have some time together alone.

Although I love my husband, I’m typically indifferent to his absences as they happen so regularly that I’m almost a sole parent. This time, though, I eagerly awaited his return as that would ensure fewer chances for Johnny to manoeuvre me alone. The problem was that I’d see my children and ache. Sexual arousal became my constant companion, and I masturbated far more regularly than usual, often six or seven times a day.

When I woke in the mornings, I’d find myself lying on my tummy, face pressed into the pillow, with my fingers stroking and thrusting into my enflamed pussy. Worse, I remembered vague parts of what had me turned on in my dream, and it was always doing unspeakable lesbian acts with the therapist’s secretary. As a result, I feared to sleep and spent many restless hours walking the house, trying to stay awake.

As well as my constant need for sexual relief, I felt deeply ashamed after willingly allowing my son to take me and could not sleep. Racked by guilt and fear of the dream visions continually playing through my subconscious as I slept, I paced the house for four nights. On the fourth night, I opened a kitchen cupboard looking for the box of chamomile tea I was sure I had in there. I’d bought the chamomile tea earlier when I’d had another bout of restless nights as it helps me to sleep. I opened the box and found some teabags and a secreted box of Benson & Hedges cigarettes. Sean hated me smoking inside, but I loved to smoke and drink wine as I cooked and hid a packet in there so that even if he was home, I could sneak one from time to time. Over time, I’d forgotten I had left them there.

Looking at the box, I remembered how many enjoyable nights I’d spent lying around the lounge room with a few good girlfriends, drinking and smoking. We’d tell tales, compare notes on our husbands, and laugh at the antics of our ‘mere males’. Taking one out, I contemplated it for a bit, then thought, ‘Fuck it! Edgar said I’d probably begin again before my next appointment’ and lit it up.

I drew as much of that divine smoke as I could take, then held until I had to release. Taking another deep draw, I felt the constant tension knot in my mind snap, and I relaxed. Suddenly exhausted, I took another drag before regretfully pinching the cigarette out and opening the window to let the smell out. After spraying air freshener to ensure the kids wouldn’t smell the smoke, I put the packet back in the tea box and went to bed.

Eight restful, dreamless hours later, I woke to see it was 11.00 am. I was surprised because, other than a vague ache of want in my nether regions, I didn’t feel horny for the first time since my appointment with Mister Fontaine. Now my mind was clear, I thought, ‘That’s it! Edgar planted a suggestion to react sexually to being called a slut! I’m ringing him immediately to rebuke him before calling the cops.’

Using the number recall on my mobile, I phoned his office and got his secretary. “The Fontaine Clinic, Liz Donnelly speaking. How may I help you?”

Thinking, ‘And I’ll deal with you next, bitch. Using me as if I were a lesbian? Oh, yes! You’ll get yours!’ “Katie Muggleton speaking, Ms Donnelly,” I said. “I need to speak to Edgar immediately. It’s a matter of grave urgency.”

“Mister Fontaine’s with a client at this time, Mrs Muggleton.” Liz’s culturally smooth voice replied. “May I get him to call you when he’s finished?”

“No!” I snarled. “If you don’t put him on the phone immediately, I’m calling the cops!”

Suddenly all traces of urbanity disappeared from Liz’s voice as she calmly, authoritatively replied, “Mrs Muggleton, I need you to take a seat and relax. I’m sure we can discuss whatever your concerns are rationally without resorting to threats.”

I began ranting again, but Liz interrupted by snarling, “Katie, my little cunt lapping slut, sit!”

To my surprise and horror, I immediately dropped onto my ass on the floor. My father’s discipline immediately took over, and I pulled my knees together and folded my legs under my thighs, ensuring I revealed little of my ‘assets’.

Hearing the thump of my curvy ass hitting the floor, Liz’s voice returned to civility, and she added, “I bet, as your father taught you, you’re sitting with your knees bent and your lower legs protecting your sweet, little pussy, aren’t you, Katie? You have your lush, firm boobies pressed against your thighs so no one can see them? But that pose isn’t you, is it, my little Katie slut?”

My pussy gushing arousal fluids, I bit my bottom lip to try and restrain a moan and remained silent. Knowing my refusal to answer was an answer itself, Liz continued, “Of course, it isn’t, Katie. And by now, you know it. Instead, you’re an incestuous, bisexual slut who lives to be fucked by her children. Tell me, Katie slut, have you fucked either of them yet?”

“No, no, no!” I soundlessly protested as my knees parted and my fingers slid inside the furnace that was my pussy. Then, as soon as my thumb found my clitoris, I grunted and groaned through an extreme, almost violent orgasm.

“Tell me, Ms Katie slut,” came Liz’s grinning, self-satisfied voice. “Which of your children have you already fucked?”

My mouth opened despite my desire to remain silent, and I replied, “Johnny.”

I could hear her knowing grin as she asked her next question, “When was that? The night after your first session, right? My, my, my, my little Katie slut, were you a willing slut for Edgar and me during your session. Most patients at their first session barely get past being unwilling to let me take their clothes off. Yet, you, you slut, let me suck your tits and eat your juicy cunt. You even licked me, Katie! I bet you smelt me all the way home and wondered what it was.”

Another orgasm built as she spoke, and suddenly my mind lost touch with reality again… flicker: image: Liz’s probing finger finds my G-spot, and I moan into her pussy as I climax…. Flicker: image: Now that I’m cumming, Liz begins working fluids onto and into my tiny rosebud, preparing it for penetration…. :Flicker: image: Liz’s soft tongue devours my pussy juices as I groan, tilt my head and lick her clit.

Screaming, my entire body, from shoulders to heels, arched off the carpet. Holding that pose, I forced my fingers as far into my pussy as possible. Then, I climaxed intensely, with my body jittering and juddering from the shocks.

“Good, slut (a small orgasm passes over me.),” Liz said smilingly. “Now, stop resisting what Edgar has done for you. He will set you free, Katie slut (Another petite orgasm slams into me.), and not only from your nicotine addiction. Don’t resist your desires, slut Katie (orgasm), as following them will help Edgar set you free. Now say, ‘Yes, Mistress’, hang up and go about your business.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I muttered, shutting off the call. I lay there, my eyes blank and seeing nothing except the final image. Me, lifting my head and willingly tonguing Liz’s aromatic clitoris, only, as my fingers sped up in my pussy, her pussy morphed into my daughter’s tiny, sweet, big clitted one, and it was her I licked.

After another screamed orgasm, my body thrashing and bouncing across the floor, I staggered to my feet and stumbled into the shower. Later, as I peered into the mirror, applying my makeup, I knew something was wrong. But even as I concentrated on what it might be, the thoughts burst into wings and fluttered away, leaving me feeling horny and sexually frustrated. Finished making myself up, I wondered if my son had returned, dressed provocatively for him, and walked to the kitchen.

Kristy was home from her uni class and sat at the breakfast bar in her typical way. Left knee tucked under her bum, and her legs spread wide apart. Because she’d been to class, she was, at least, reasonably conservatively dressed. Only, in this pose, her tight jean shorts clung to every part of her vulva, leaving the outline of her entrance and slit displayed.

Gulping and hoping she couldn’t smell my arousal, I looked at her head and walked toward her. Hearing my steps, my daughter looked up, smiled, and teased, “Wow, were you loud, Mum! Three times, I heard you cum. You must be really missing Dad, huh?”

“I will be ecstatic when your father returns,” I confirmed. “And I am missing him something fierce.” ‘Just not for the reasons you’re imagining, my girl. Instead of wishing for him to come home and ‘ease my needs’. I needed him home to prevent me from tripping my children, so they fell between my willing thighs. Although I wouldn’t argue if Sean wanted to ‘ease my needs,’ I added with an inner giggle.’

Kristy continued smiling and holding my gaze for a little longer before her eyes fell, and a slow blush suffused her face. Looking at the ground, she stifled a small sob and whispered, “I’m sorry about the other day, Mom. I was inappropriate, and you were right to admonish me. I hate that we’re not talking, can you please forgive me and be my friend again?”

Using my mother’s voice, my conscience castigated me, ‘Well done, Katie. You became sexually excited because you desired your daughter, then overreacted and destroyed her trust by yelling at her. Now, instead of you apologising to her, she’s crying because she feels you’ve withdrawn your love. What a good mother you make. Well done you!’

There was only one thing to do, so I did it. I knelt between my daughter’s knees, pressed my barely covered breasts against her soft tummy, took her head in my hands, brought it close, and softly kissed the pouting lips on her beautiful face. Running my hands sensuously up and down her inner thighs, my fingers daringly near her shorts-covered pussy, I kissed her again, just a little more firmly and insistently, before whispering, “The problem, my darling girl, was that I was about to orgasm and I was embarrassed because I didn’t think that was right.”

Running her fingers through my hair, our lips only millimetres apart, Kristy tremulously smiled and quietly asked, “If I hadn’t panicked the first time, and Johnny hadn’t cum in his pants the second, would you have made me cum those two times?”

Kissing her softly again, barely preventing myself from turning it into a full-on French kiss, I nodded, “Yes, honey, I would have loved to have made you climax both times.”

Leaning back as she stared longingly at my lips, wondering if she dared kiss me passionately (Or that’s how I interpreted the look), Kristy asked firmly, “Why is it okay for you to make me feel good, but not okay for me to return the favour?”

I didn’t have an answer for her as I didn’t understand my motivations or reasons. I only knew that making her feel good seemed natural. Something a mother should do for her sexually inexperienced daughter. But receiving pleasure from her smacked of an uneven power exchange. Perhaps I worried that she reciprocated because I was her mother, and she had to, not because she wanted to.

I began sobbing because I felt terrible for hurting her and tried to explain what I’d thought (Described above). Kristy didn’t understand what I tried to say, but she accepted that I was sorry, and somehow, we were best friends again. My conscience appreciated that Kristy hadn’t pursued me kissing her sensually, but the blazing furnace that had replaced my vagina wished she had.

Standing and pulling me up with her, Kristy pushed me a little away, then took my hand and spun me slowly around. I wore a bright orange cross-over halterneck cut-out side mini bodycon dress and nothing else. A bra would have been redundant as the cross-over pieces cupped and supported my globes beautifully, and I hardly ever wore panties anyway, so I was sans both. My shoes were Gianvito Rossi, seven-inch heeled, suede pumps.

“Phhuuwwweeeeet-Phheeew, Mum!” Kristy whistled. “Wow, you’re gorgeous! I wish I looked as good as you!”

“Oh, but you do, my love,” I replied. Feeling joyous because my daughter and I were close again, I took her hand and dragged her after me. “Come on. I want to show you something.” I guided her upstairs, along the hall, and into the craft room. Searching amongst the shelves, I found the two albums I wanted and brought them to my craft table. Then opening mine to the age my daughter was now, I laid it beside the one I’d recently finished scrapping and began flipping pages over.

As it’s impossible to tell height differences between photos unless the subjects are side by side or stand beside some recognisable object, our pictures were eerily similar and could easily have been of the same person. When I commented that Kristy was a virtual mini-me, I didn’t exaggerate. In these pics, we looked as if someone had cloned us.

Looking at me wonderingly, Kristy said, “That would mean I could wear pretty much the same clothes as you. We have the same hair, eye and skin colouring and are close enough to the same size. But if I’m as pretty as you, Mom, why don’t I have a steady boyfriend?”

Trying to be gentle, I replied, “Because you act cold towards men, honey. The other night, you said you were a virgin, right?” Kristy nodded. “And that you were afraid to go all the way because you feared getting pregnant, yes?” My daughter nodded again. “So, baby girl, that fear makes you standoffish and comes across as you being a cold-hearted bitch too good for any man she sees.”

“Did you have that problem as a teenager, Mom,” Kristy asked.

Giggling, I coquettishly flounced so my bosom jiggled, then widened my eyes as far as possible, turned and looked back over my shoulder as I held my hair over one side of my neck and let a tiny, amused smile play over my lips before hooding my eyes, pursing my lips and staring at her intently.

With her lips suddenly dry and her hands unknowingly on her nipples, Kristy moaned and said, “OMG, Mom! That was, I dunno, WOW!”

I smiled, “Honey, I had no trouble finding a boyfriend. Most of the time, I had to beat them off with a stick!”

Unawarely kneading her breasts, Kristy bit her bottom lip before pleading, “Will you show me, please? Show me how to do what you just did. That was so sexy that I’m sure men crashed their cars or walked into things when you did it.”

“Oh, baby,” I sighed. “You don’t want that type of attention. It’s the type that…” Realising that I was about to say ‘sluts’, I stopped, afraid of what I might do if I heard that word voiced. But before I could replace it with another, my daughter innocently said, “The type sluts get? Is that what you were about to say, Mom?”

Shuddering as an intense climax ripped through my body, I sank onto the loveseat and tried to pretend I was doing anything else but having an orgasm. However, even someone less experienced than my daughter would know I’d just cum, and Kristy certainly did!

Another piece added to the puzzle, Kristy said, “Do you like being called ‘slut’, Mommie?” I moaned, and my knees sprang apart. “Slut,” Kristy repeated. Shuffling down, I let my dress drag above my hips. “Mommie slut.” My daughter tried.

“Please, Kristy,” I begged, as my fingers probed between my salaciously spread thighs. But for what I didn’t articulate.

Looking at me with curiosity, my daughter asked, “My Mommie slut? A slut for me?”

I protested, “No, Kristy, please! I can’t. It’s wrong!”

I pleaded, begged and tried to refuse, but my daughter stood, arms folded and staring imperiously down at me, and I slid off the couch, crawled over, and knelt before her. Sobbing, I looked up at my sweet innocent daughter and knew that if she asked, I’d destroy her innocence by eating her sweet, young, virginal pussy.

Luckily, my tears ashamed my daughter, and she dropped to her knees before me and hugged me. Her tears joined mine, and she repeatedly whispered, “I’m so sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry, Mom. I thought you were aroused, and I wanted to make you feel good, not cry.”

“I am aroused, honey,” I sobbed. “The problem is that when someone calls me ‘slut'” (I had to stop as I shuddered, trying not to climax), “When someone calls me that name, I become aroused and submissive and will do anything they ask.”

“So, if I want a new car,” Kristy joked. “All I have to do is call you sl, umm, that word and ask you for one, and you’d buy it for me?”

Relieved because it seemed we’d gotten past our near error, I giggled and said, “I’m not sure if it works that way.” Then blushing, and knowing I was putting a lot of trust in my daughter’s young hands, I added, “But if you call me… that… I’ll probably do anything sexual with you that you ask me to.”

Moving forward until she sat on my thighs, her gorgeously mounded, ripe young breasts pressing against my older but barely less firm ones and her hot, wet pussy pressing against my abdomen, Kristy reached around and cupped my ass as she slowly ground against me. “I might take you up on that offer, Mom,” Kristy softly moaned. “I’ve been so hot since that night when Johnny photographed us. No matter how often I masturbate, I’m wet and wanting.”

I had to. No, I know what you think, but I had to, as much for my daughter as for me. Leaning back, I tugged my daughter’s T-shirt out of her shorts, pulled it over her head and tossed it aside. Then I reached behind her and undid her bra. Tossing that after her T-shirt, I lifted my dress’ halter over my head and let it drop, exposing my large 16 Double-D breasts. Running my hands through my daughter’s gorgeously long black locks, I grasped the back of her head and pulled her down so I could lock my lips with hers.

With my nipples rubbing across the underside of Kristy’s globes, I kissed her chastely. Then, feeling no resistance, I pressed a little harder and sucked more firmly. Turning my head to the side, I ran my tongue insistently along my daughter’s lips, demanding entry, and with a soft moan, Kristy’s lips parted, and my tongue darted inside. Lifting her tongue to meet mine, Kristy’s hands convulsively squeezed my shapely ass as our tongues met in the dance of love and desire.

Releasing our kiss, Kristy leant back and moaned, “Oh, Gawd, Mom, I’m so ready to cum! Help me, please.”

I’d already taken advantage of our separation to cup my daughter’s sexily rounded breasts as I circled her nipples with my thumbs. So when she begged me to help her climax, I tipped my head forward and wetly ran my tongue around and over her nipples. As I felt my daughter nearing her orgasmic culmination, I encouraged her to stand and undid her shorts before pulling them and her panties down and off her legs. Holding her sexy hips, I sat her on my thighs again, then leaning further back, I worked my hand between us and onto her mound before finding her chunky clit with my fingers.

Gently manipulating her virgin clitoris, I suckled each of her luscious breasts alternately as I listened to her arousal, waiting for the short, sharp pants that would indicate she was about to cum. Smiling when I heard them, I surrounded my daughter’s nipple with my mouth and sucked hard. When the first spasm of her orgasm hit, I bit down on Kristy’s nipple firmly and sucked as hard as possible. Her climax hit, and my daughter exploded. Screaming and shuddering, she bounced up and down on my lap, with her pussy spewing her juices over my thighs.

Overcome by the intensity of her orgasm, Kristy collapsed forward onto me and fell asleep. Fortunately, I was close enough to the loveseat, so holding her tightly with our lush breasts pressed firmly together, I leaned against it and stroked her hair and back until she recovered. A loud snore woke her, and Kristy sat up dreamily and, with a sweetly innocent smile, said. “Wow, Mom, that was intense, and I’ve never cum so hard before. Man, do you know your way around a woman’s body! Is it always this good?”

Smiling, I cupped her shapely ass and answered, “Honey, before you, I’ve had sex with exactly one person. Your father, of course.” For a moment, my vision clouded, and I heard Edgar Fontaine chuckling as my head lifted and my tongue stretched to lap at his secretary’s entrance. Then I guiltily remembered that I’d let her brother have sex with me, too. But I shook it off and continued, “Sex with your dad is always good, so I’m hoping it’s always this good for you, too.”

My daughter remained kneeling on my upper thighs, smiling happily for quite some time as my need ached in my belly and blazed in my pussy. I needed to cum to release my aching desire, but I couldn’t until I was alone and able to masturbate, so I smiled and kneaded Kristy’s ass as I waited for her to leave. She had other ideas, though, because she kissed me softly and said, “You made me feel good, Mommie. Please show me how to return the favour.”

I didn’t want her to because it was wrong. Deep down inside me, where my conscience seemed to be lying curled up in a ball with its eyes closed and fingers in its ears, screaming, “La, la, la. Nothing to see or hear here.” I knew it was wrong. But my needs didn’t care. The raging inferno others would call my pussy or vagina didn’t care. All I could think of was my need to cum, so I smiled and said, “That won’t be difficult, honey. Here, let me show you.”

Taking her hand in mine, I pushed her back to create a gap for her to access my dripping pussy. Holding my daughter’s right hand, I split her thumb away from her fingers, held it against my clitoris, and pushed her first two fingers inside my vulva. Sliding my finger in with hers, I pressed on the backs of her fingers until I felt them pressing against my G-spot.

“Feel that rough area there?” I gasped, my arousal swiftly peaking. Kristy nodded, so I added, “Move your thumb over and around my button as you tickle that rough spot, and I’ll have an orgasm, okay?”

Kristy did as I asked, and I was close but couldn’t seem to pop off the edge. So, moaning, I pleaded, “Say it.”

Not understanding, Kristy frowned and asked, “Say what?”

Desperately needing to cum but unable to, I begged, “That thing you were experimenting with earlier.”

Comprehension dawned on my daughter’s face, and with a naughty, evil grin, she emphatically stated, “Cum for me, my little Mommie slut.”

Oh my, did I cum! Screaming so loudly that my throat hurt for days afterwards, I launched off the pad and blasted into space. Eventually, when my senses returned, I found that Kristy had somehow moved me to my room and onto my bed. Looking down to where she lay cuddled against my generous bosom smiling sweetly, I kissed her upturned lips, giggled and said, “One each. But honey, we can’t do this lest we’re caught, okay? I’ll help you explore your sexuality, but we must remain mother and daughter and not lovers, or people will find out and condemn us.”

The days passed uneventfully, and Friday arrived. Standing in the airport foyer, I eagerly awaited Sean’s arrival. Although my husband is barely taller than my six-foot frame, his self-confident, almost arrogant walk made him seem inches taller than anyone else in that foyer. Spotting me, Sean grinned and strode across to where I stood. With my pussy tingling because my handsome, dashing husband was near, I leapt into his arms and lifted my knees and wrapped my legs around his hips. Gently kissing me, Sean ground his rapidly rising erection against my blazingly hot pussy, then whispered, “I feel that you missed me, Katie. Shall we race home, or would you like me to fuck you here in the foyer?”

“Here in the foyer,” I growled, scared I’d left a blatant wet spot on his trousers where his erection throbbed.

Sean grinned and said, “Slut! Can’t you wait until we get home?” Unaware of the effect of that word.

“No!” I gasped as I climaxed, praying nobody had heard or seen.

I’d taken his Audi RS 6 Avant to pick him up. So after greeting him, I submissively handed him the keys. On the way home, I said, “I had an appointment at a hypnotherapy clinic, Sean. The therapist is helping me to quit smoking.”

“About time, Katie,” my husband growled. “You’ve smoked those damned things for too long. Has it helped? Or are you still puffing away?”

“I’ve had half of one cigarette since the appointment, Sean,” I replied guiltily, knowing I shouldn’t have had any. “But Edgar said I’d probably start smoking again before my next session.”

With his hand idly running up and down my inner thigh, unaware of how turned on I was, Sean said, “Edgar’s the hypnotist, I assume?”

“Hypnotherapist,” I pedantically corrected, wondering why I cared that Sean got his title right.

Laughing, my husband said, “You haven’t had any strange impulses to quack like a duck or moo like a cow when someone says a certain word, have you?”

Unknowingly, Sean had hit on what my problem was precisely. Relieved, I opened my mouth to tell him about ‘that’ word, but before I could, a vision of Edgar’s devilishly handsome face intruded, and I heard myself swearing to follow his processes. Then, despite my need for rescue, my throat closed, and I couldn’t. Instead, I answered, “Not that I’m aware of, honey, but how would I know?”

Chuckling, Sean promised to tell me if I did something like he’d described and promised to get our kids to watch for it, too. Blushing because I knew they both knew a word that would make me act strangely, and hoping they wouldn’t expose my dirty secret, I grabbed my husband’s hand where it maddeningly stroked, sending intensely erotic sparks flying to my pussy, separated two fingers, and pressed them into my flooded vagina.

Turning to smile at my obvious need, Sean said, “Oh, my little Katie slut, are we a little needy tonight?” Twenty years of marriage, and he’d never used that name for me before tonight. Then, unaware of how that word affected me, he innocently, jokingly said it and an immense climactic event crashed over me. Holding Sean’s thumb pressed hard against my clit, I groaned, barely stifling screams, and pumped my hips against its delicious pressure.

“I guess you missed me, huh?” Sean chuckled. “Good, because I missed you, too.” Taking his fingers out of my pussy, he briefly held them to his nose, sampling their delicious aroma before picking up a cloth and wiping them dry.

I knew my husband’s declaration of missing me was probably true, but unlike me, Sean wouldn’t have gone without sex for his entire trip. Sean needs his secretary Amanda to type notes, make appointments and create the documents required, so she always travels with him.

I knew they slept together on these trips because Amanda had gleefully told me they did during one of the office parties. I guess she expected me to react jealously and angrily confront my husband because she probably hoped to permanently replace me in his bed. When I threw my head back and laughed, she gaped at me with dull surprise. A look I thought fitted her vapid mush appropriately. Then, laughing again, I grabbed her elbow and pointed out the six other women currently there that I knew my husband had been intimate with.

To further rub her nose in it, I whispered, “If you think my husband will leave me for you, you scrawny, titty-less, flat-bottomed bitch, you’re seriously delusional. All you are is a convenient receptacle for Sean to pump his seed into. So get over yourself and realise what you are –something for my man to dump a load in when he’s horny.”

We arrived home, and I followed my man, a submissive two steps behind, up the stairs to our bedroom. Stopping just before the en suite door, Sean turned to face me, then stood with his feet together and arms hanging. I knew what he expected, so I undid his shirt buttons and pulled his shirt off.

After tossing it into the wash basket, I knelt and took his shoes and socks off before softly kissing his feet. Next, I looked lovingly up at him as I undid his trousers, pulled them down, and helped him to step out of them. Then delaying as long as possible to tease him, I submissively knelt, looking down, with my hands palm up on my thighs and knees spread, until he ordered me to do something.

The above is a pose my father drummed into me continuously until I could hold it endlessly. There is a similar one where, instead of on my thighs, my hands are behind my head with my elbows wide, displaying my large, perfect breasts for my husband’s inspection.

“You know what I want, Katie,” Sean growled. “Stop delaying and do it for me.”

Inwardly smiling, but my face serenely calm, I said, “Yes, Sir,” before shuffling closer, grasping Sean’s swollen shaft, and gently sucking on his ball sack. His hands found my head and, moaning appreciatively, held it as I pumped his cock and bathed his balls and taint with my tongue. “Oh, Gawd, Katie, you’re so good at that! Suck me, please.”

His words were part of the game, so because he hadn’t commanded me to suck him, I left my mouth where it was but licked faster.

With his voice deep, resonant and sending thrills through my enflamed pussy, Sean demanded, “Katie, stop playing and suck my cock!” My hand flew between my thighs as I moved my lips onto my husband’s throbbing cock. Forming my lips into a perfect ‘O’, I sucked and swallowed, swirling my tongue around his glans and then shaft until my lips pressed against his hairy pubic bone.

Shuddering, Sean groaned, “I’m cumming, Katie. Swallow it all without missing a drop, or I’ll take my hand to your slut ass.”

I screamed around his cock as my orgasm tore me apart. Then had to desperately swallow and gulp between screams to abide by my husband’s edict. However, I knew Sean wanted to spank me because he pulled out of my mouth before the last of his ejaculation could splatter down my throat and came on my face instead.

With my orgasm temporarily over, I guided my husband’s cock back into my mouth and industriously cleaned it. Once I had his cock clean, Sean sat on my vanity chair and patted his thighs. Submissively draping my gorgeous body over his thighs, I waited to be corrected. It didn’t matter that Sean had pulled out before he’d finished ejaculating and cum on my face. His instruction was explicit –Swallow it all without missing a drop, or I’ll take my hand to your slut ass. I’d missed two spurts and therefore needed correcting.

“Ten, I think,” my husband mused, tapping one cheek then the other. “Five on each side. And Katie?” I looked back over my shoulder, “Try not to enjoy them so much that you cum before I get to ten. If you do, I’ll take my belt to you next.”

Sean hit my cheeks one after the other swiftly as I gritted my teeth and concentrated on resisting my approaching orgasm. I barely reached the end, but after the tenth hit, I’d done as I was ordered and kept an orgasm at bay. Climbing gracefully off my husband’s thighs, I knelt and sucked him back into my mouth. Sean adores spanking me almost as much as I enjoy him doing it, so his thick cock had pulsed against my soft tummy the whole ten strikes. With him so excited, it only took me a few lashes with my tongue and a couple of pumps with my hand before he unloaded down my throat. This time, he graciously allowed me to swallow the entire load.

Finished swallowing and then cleaning his magnificent tool, I released it with a loud slurp. Grinning down at me, Sean said, “Wow, Katie! You must be really on edge because it’s been years since you’ve orgasmed as you sucked me off. Do you need me to help you?”

With the change from telling to asking, I knew Sean no longer wished me to be his submissive wife but his life partner, so I stood and pushed on his chest until he fell back onto the bed. Picking his feet up, I swung them onto the bed. Dropping my midi-dress, all that I wore, I crawled along his body. After pausing to press my wet, raging arousal against his limp but swiftly swelling cock, I moved up until my pussy was over his mouth.

Sean moved his arms from inside my thighs to outside them, then reached over my legs and used his thumbs to pull my clit hood back and expose my thick clitoris. Playing with my breasts with one hand as I pushed my long, dark locks over my head and shoulder to partially obscure my nipples. Then looking down at him, I smiled and lowered my enflamed pussy onto his mouth.

Now that he had his tongue slashing over my clit, Sean released my hood and stretched his hands up to cup my breasts. Unfortunately, I was too tall for him to reach. I knew what Sean wanted, so I moved back, took his rigid cock in my delicate hand, and guided it into me. Sean and I shared a lustful moan as his cock bottomed out in my slick slit, and he began pumping up into me.

Putting my weight on my hands, I pushed on the bed to lift myself high enough to pull my legs out from under me, then lay flat on Sean’s body. Sean placed his hand on my tailbone, squeezed me tightly, and rolled us over. Now that he was on top, I spread my legs as wide as possible before lifting my knees and wrapping my calves around his lower back.

Resting on his elbows, my husband squeezed and kneaded my firm breasts. Then listening to me pant and moan as he thrust into me, he rolled my nipples between his thumb and forefinger and waited for me to peak. He knew I was close but not quite over the edge, so he pinched harder and commanded, “Cum for me, Katie!”

Squealing, I ratcheted my hips back and forth and pounded my exploding pussy up at my husband’s urgently thrusting cock. “Arrgghhh!” He groaned and filled my insides with his seed, sending me into paroxysms of bliss. As his cock slowly deflated before falling out of me, my hips still bucked up at him as the last post-orgasmic tremors shuddered through my body.

Satiated for the first time since my husband and I last made love, I sighed and wriggled, encouraging him to move off me. But hearing his soft snore, I realised he’d fallen asleep. Smiling affectionately, I slithered out from under him, donned my nightie and slipped off to the main bathroom to relieve my bladder. Sean’s secretions leaked down my inner thighs as I washed my hands. So, wetting a washer, I spread my knees wide and bent over to clean myself.

Of course, Johnny chose then to slip into the room. Catching me bent over with everything salaciously exposed, he locked the door and swiftly crossed to me. Then, pressing his rock-hard erection against my exposed bottom, he peeled my nightie off my shoulders, cupped my big breasts and thumbed my nipples. I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could, he growled, “What a loud little Mommie slut you are when you cum, Mom,” and as my arousal peaked, I moaned instead. “You came twice for Dad, Mom. And although I know I shouldn’t be jealous of him, I want you to cum for me, too.”

Trying half-heartedly to push him away, I muttered, “Stop it, Johnny. You can’t because my pussy’s full of your dad’s stuff.”

Squeezing my nipples, Johnny replied, “Your slut pussy is full of his cum, is that what you mean, Mom?”

My resistance faltered when I heard ‘slut’, and no longer caring that I was full of Sean’s cum, I pulled Johnny’s sweatpants down, grabbed his thick shaft, and guided it inside me. Holding my hips, my son eagerly sawed his cock in and out of me. As he thrust into me, I felt his meaty balls banging against my clit and had to bite my wrist lest my orgasmic screams wake my husband and daughter.

Pumping hard, his abdomen slapping loudly against my rounded ass, my son crooned, “Good Mommie slut. Now cum for me again.” Forcing my diaghram closed, I managed to grunt and groan quietly as my body shook on my son’s cock. Then, as I shuddered, coming down from my second orgasm, I felt Johnny’s cock expand in my tight pussy before shooting its wetness into me. I orgasmed again as Johnny’s semen sprayed my already sodden insides, then slumped onto my knees.

Mistaking the reason for my collapse, Johnny crooned, “Good Mommie slut” again and pressed his cum messy cock against my lips. Hearing ‘slut’, my mind spun away and… flicker: image: Now that I’m cumming, Liz begins working fluids onto and into my tiny rosebud, preparing it for penetration…. flicker: image: Liz’s soft tongue devours my pussy juices as I groan, tilt my head and lick her clit…. My quick hands delving into my pussy, I open my mouth and… flicker: image: Liz presses harder against my little pucker hole, and fluttering, it opens, allowing a finger inside…. my son’s swelling cock slips into my mouth. Sucking and lashing with my tongue, I… flicker: image: Liz works a second finger into my ass, and squealing into her pussy, I cum on her fingers…. quickly bring Johnny to another peak. Grunting loudly, he spurts his orgasm into my greedily sucking mouth.

Patting my head like I was his favourite pet, Johnny smiled and said, “You’re the best, Mom. Your pussy is so tight, and your mouth works my cock so well that I love being in either.” He patted my bottom proprietarily, helped me to my feet and added, “We’d better sneak back to our beds before Dad comes looking, or Kristy needs the bathroom.”

I knew he was right, but the flickering images playing in my mind had my arousal pumped to explode again, and I needed relief. Unfortunately, Johnny didn’t notice, so he turned to open the door. “Hmm,” He muttered, perplexed. “I thought I’d locked this when I came in.” Then, shrugging, he opened the door and slipped out.

I couldn’t go back to bed with my husband and son’s semen flooding from my well-used vagina, so sighing, I turned on the shower, found my douche bottle, and ensured there was no trace of my misdeed with my son when Sean played with me next.

After washing the signs of sex from my lush body, I preened in front of the mirror. Turning back and forth, I admired my long, shapely legs and high, curvy but firm butt. Smiling, I appreciated that, unlike many of my friends, it hadn’t sagged lower after childbirth. Turning, I cupped my luscious breasts, lifted them and let them drop. ‘Only one bounce before they settle back into place,’ I think at my mirror, ‘So still good.’ Turning, I check for stretch marks. Finding none, I admonished myself, ‘Ease back on the wine, Katie. Patrick’s got a point because so far, you’ve been fortunate to have only put on 3 kg (7 lbs) since your teenage years.’

Still horny, I turned to go back to bed and thought I saw the bathroom door closing. Opening the door, I looked down the hall toward the kid’s bedroom and saw Kristy peeking through her cracked open door at me. When she saw that I saw her, she squeaked and quickly shut the door. Thinking, I remembered Johnny’s comment that he’d locked the bathroom door and realised I’d seen him do it, yet the door was unlocked when he left.

‘Had Kristy, needing to pee, come to the door and found it locked?’ I wondered as I gazed thoughtfully at her door. ‘Was she only waiting for it to be clear before she came to use it? Why wasn’t the door locked then?’ I mused. “Maybe she thought someone had accidentally locked it, so she got a butter knife to open it.

Then it hit me, ‘OMG! What if she opened the door and saw Johnny and me screwing?’ I contemplated knocking on her door and asking, then thought, ‘And if she hadn’t opened the door and seen you and Johnny, then you’ve admitted to letting your son bang you like slutty drum –‘OMG!’ I shuddered as I fought down another orgasm from hearing the word, ‘slut’.

I decided I had to say nothing unless Kristy mentioned it first. So, trying to ignore the blazing fire in my soaking wet pussy, I returned to my room. I knew that sleep would be impossible, but my husband expected me to be naked and lying with him when he woke up, so beside him I’d be.

Walking in, I saw that Sean’s phone had lit the room up. Being an international stock broker meant that he received messages and calls night and day. Typically, he turns the phone to ‘do not disturb’ when he sleeps but must have forgotten to before we made love. In the vague light, I noticed that Sean lay on his back in the middle of our bed, his arms and legs spread and pointing to the four corners, and his cock standing proudly erect against his abdomen.

Biting my lip as I stared at my husband’s slowly bouncing cock, and feeling the sting in my ass cheeks, I had a naughty idea. Pulling several pairs of nylons out of my drawer (An item I only ever wear in the middle of winter when the westerlies blew and it was freezing.), I loosely tied my husband’s wrists and ankles to the bed’s four corners, hoping the loose ties wouldn’t wake him. Then, after I’d wrapped a scarf around his eyes for a blindfold, and with my heart beating a frenzy in my chest because I worried he’d wake up before I had him secured, I tightened his wrist ties before tightening the ones on his ankles.

“Katie?” Sean queried as he felt me securely fasten his wrists. “What are you doing?”

With my pussy flaming but my typically submissive nature telling me to immediately untie my husband, then kneel and beg for forgiveness, I remained silent. After checking that I’d tied him as tight as possible, I crawled onto the bed between his legs, cupped his big balls, wrapped my hand around his shaft’s base, then softly blew over his cock’s eye.

“Gawd, Katie!” Sean moaned. “What are you doing?” I blew again. “Gaaawwwddd!” He groaned. I touched my tongue to his glans underneath his cock’s eye and then stabbed that spot repeatedly. “Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!” Sean stuttered as I stabbed. Moving lower, I carefully sucked one of his balls into my mouth, then gently bit as I pumped his cock. Sean couldn’t take anymore and growled, “Gaaaaawwwwwwwddddddd, Katie!” before spitting huge globules of cum out of his cock as he orgasmed.

Swiftly shifting to cover his cock’s ejaculating head, I gleefully swallowed the last three or four eruptions. Then, sliding around my husband’s body, I traced my lips across his muscly torso, gathering up every drop of his delicious gift with my tongue. Satisfied he was clean, I silently worked on making him stiff again. Being forced into the submissive role had Sean excited beyond belief because only seconds later, his thick cock throbbed in my hands again.

Holding his hard penis, I swung my knee over his hip and lowered myself onto it. “Oh, Gawd, Katie,” Sean moaned as my hot and wet pussy glided down his rigid pole.

Then, as my clitoris hit my husband’s pelvis, the tip of his cock touched my cervix, and I had to suppress a groan and concentrate on avoiding cumming. With my hands in the middle of his chest for balance and leverage, I bounced on Sean’s cock until his eyes rolled back and, with a loud, guttural groan, blasted his spunk into my tightly gripping vagina.

Clenching my teeth together, I somehow remained silent as a breathtaking orgasm ripped through my luscious body. When I came down, I slid off Sean’s wilting cock and took him in my mouth, then sucked and licked him clean. After lightly kissing the tip, I got off the bed and opened the door before racing to the bathroom to douche and clean my sloppy pussy.

Returning to my room, I hesitated outside and considered what to do next. Then, smiling because I thought my role-play would blow Sean’s mind, I opened the door and stepped through. My husband lay, shaking his head back and forth, trying to dislodge his blindfold and repeatedly said, “Katie? Katie? Katie?” as he struggled to free himself.

Firmly shutting the door so Sean could hear, I pretended to stand stunned before I gasped, “Sean? What the? Who tied you like this? What are you doing? Why does your cock look like someone has sucked on it?”

My husband froze as his mind struggled with what I said. Then he enquiringly asked, “Katie? What are you doing? That was you, wasn’t it? You tied me up and had sex with me.”

Trying hard not to giggle, I forced myself to say, “Sean, what are you talking about? Remember, after screwing me missionary style, you came in me then fell asleep. Afterwards, I slid from under you, showered, and have just returned.”

“Katie, what are you on about?” Sean growled although I could hear he doubted himself. “I was on my back sleeping, and you tied me as I am and had your way with me. Now, before I get angry and paddle your sexy ass, let me up!”

“Sean,” I insisted, grinning at my deception. “I was in the shower. How could I have tied you up?”

Sean was unsure because I insisted that it wasn’t me that tied him up. However, he also knew my submissive nature meant I wouldn’t do that unless told to.

“Release me, Katie, please.”

Taking his blindfold off first, I undid his ties, then climbed on the bed and snuggled into his broad, muscular chest. Kissing his jaw, I sweetly asked, “Sean? Why did it look like someone had blown you when I returned from showering? How did you get tied to the bed, and why did you let someone do it?”

“Katie,” my husband unconvincingly growled. “I know it was you, so why are you pretending?”

Ignoring his question, I wriggled closer and fell asleep.

Although I have to sleep alone too often, I sleep much better cuddled into my husband’s side. Therefore, I slept deeply and refreshingly until Sean’s alarm sounded. Stretching and yawning, I watched wantingly as Sean dressed in his running gear and headed out for his run.

I stretched again and considered rolling over and trying to sleep. Unfortunately, I knew that Saturday meant Sean would blast through five kilometres (3 Miles) as fast as possible, then return and expect breakfast. Dragging my sexy ass out of bed, I tossed a house coat over my shoulders, tied its sash, wandered to the kitchen and began making omelettes. Feta cheese, spinach and salmon for Kristy and me. Ham, cheese and tomato for Johnny and Sean.

As I watched my children, I realised Kristy had dressed provocatively in her skimpy, V-necked teddy. The laces holding the teddy’s cups together were designed to tie under and emphasise the wearer’s breasts. However, my daughter had tightened the laces to the point of breaking, and her luscious breasts threatened to burst from her bodice at any second.

Johnny was due at training this morning, so he had his training gear on. As he moved around to sit next to his sister, I admired his long, toned legs, tight muscular bottom, and leanly muscled frame. Johnny is taller but leaner than his father. Sean had trained to play Rugby League, which requires a much more robust physique than AFL. My men are taller than me (always appreciated by tall women like me because we can wear our highest heels and not tower over them), in peak physical form, and handsome–a winning combination in any woman’s fantasies.

“Hey, sis,” Johnny said, kissing his sister’s surprised cheek. “Hot outfit!”

‘Oh, lawd!’ I thought. ‘No, Johnny! You must not become enamoured with your sister. Being incestuous with me is bad enough. Doing the same with her would be disastrous!’ I immediately began planning how to ensure they were never together alone.