"I need your help, Jack," Iris Maguire said. She leaned on the oversized desk in the attorney's expansive office, offering him a glimpse down the plunging neckline of her black knit blouse. She'd dressed carefully for this meeting, knowing two things: first, she could barely afford an hour of Jack Holland's professional time, and second, he had wanted to fuck her for as long as they'd known one another.
"You're putting me in an awkward situation," Holland said. As Iris had hoped, his eyes rested on the round swell of her breasts visible above the lace edge of her bra. "You and George and I have been friends since college." He cleared his throat uncomfortably, making a visible effort to shift his gaze up to her luminous blue eyes. "On top of which, this promises to be one ugly divorce. If I were you I'm not sure I'd want to plead my case in court. Have you considered arbitration?"
"There's nothing to arbitrate! George is out to ruin me. He's drained our accounts and managed to freeze assets that I brought to the marriage. And the things he's telling people--"
"Are they untrue?" Holland interrupted. "I need you to tell me that much before we go any further." Before Iris could gather her wits to answer, he continued, "How's Greg taking it?"
"Well, he's had to leave school for one thing. His father's cut him off. He's got a partial football scholarship but it's not nearly enough to cover tuition and expenses. And I've got nothing."
"Pretty harsh, I agree. Yet, given the circumstances, not many folks around here would blame your husband for being vindictive. Not saying I'm one of them. But Iris, I'd be taking this on pro bono and against my professional judgment."
"If you won't help me, I've nowhere else to turn," Iris said simply, with an expression that was two parts pleading and one part seduction. She might not have much leverage here, but she'd damned well use what she had. Holland looked at her for a long moment with his lips pursed thoughtfully. Then he got to his feet and came around the desk to stand before her.
Iris smiled when she saw the hard-on tenting the front of his pinstriped trousers. She ran her hand along his fly, feeling the warmth of his cock right through layers of wool and cotton. Her heart raced. "So, what would be the terms of this deal?" she asked, feigning uncertainty as she set the hook.
Holland leaned back on the edge of his desk, leering down at her. "For starts, let's see you naked."
Iris was almost forty, but she had a great body: big, round tits with only the barest beginnings of middle-aged sag, dusky rose nipples and areolae the size of teacups, a slim waist, flat belly, and full, womanly hips. She was a natural blonde, but ever since her college cheerleading days she'd been shaving her mound bare of the light silvery down that would otherwise fringe her small, neat pussy. She'd discovered back then that the fellows on the team went down more eagerly on a bare cunt.
The things that turned men on mattered to Iris. Fucking was her raison d'etre and had been since the night a high school senior whose name she hadn't bothered to ask had popped her cherry at a beach party. Her fervor for fucking had not been diminished by age, decades of marriage, or motherhood, nor was she too choosy about her partners in most respects. Looks, age, and character were all superficialities to her. What she cared about was how heavy a guy was hung, how often he could get it up, and how much jism he could shoot.
All of which, she reflected ruefully, had brought her to this unhappy pass. But if anyone could save her fortune and maybe even her reputation, it was good old Jack Holland. The brilliant lawyer was one of the few men or women in her circle of friends and acquaintances whom she'd never gotten around to fucking. Even if all the rest turned their backs on her now, spending the coming days and nights with Jack between her legs while they put her life back together would be some compensation.
Standing in the center of the office, Iris pulled her blouse over her head and tossed it onto a leather sofa. She unzipped her slim skirt and shimmied out of it, causing her giant tits to jiggle in the overstuffed cups of her bra. Holland's eyes were laser-focused on those double-D beauties. When she flipped the front clasp open and they tumbled out of their confinement, he cursed softly in amazement.
"Why thank you, Jack. You really like them?" She hefted her breasts teasingly, showing him how stiff her fat nipples already were.
"Jesus Christ," he repeated. Of course he liked them; every man Iris had ever been with went crazy for her huge tits and she'd noticed Jack eying them lustfully on many occasions. She lifted one to her mouth and flicked her tongue over the nipple. His prick jerked in his trousers. The familiar, reassuring feeling of having a man in her power washed over Iris, raising her spirits and giving her a feeling of hope for the first time in days. She made a sexy show of wriggling out of her hose and panties.
"The earrings, too," Holland said with sudden authority. "All the jewelry. Everything except the wedding ring." He grinned wolfishly. "Leave that on."
"Yes, sir!" she giggled playfully. When she was utterly bare she sauntered across the carpet toward him, swinging her hips like a stripper. She dropped to her knees and undid his belt. "I'll admit that I've been curious about you for a long time," she murmured, pulling his trousers down to his knees. "I don't know-- Oh! "
Her pussy muscles clenched at the sight of Holland's cock. Size mattered to her, and while Jack's was nowhere near the biggest prick she'd played with, it was long enough and nicely curved, topped by a dark, blunt knob and crisscrossed by thick veins that promised to please all of her favorite places. He was hard as iron and at once all the fear and helplessness that had consumed her in the days since her husband had discovered her riding cowgirl on another man in their marital bed vanished in the heat of her fuck-lust.
Taking firm hold of Holland's cock she slid her hand down to the root, leaning closer and opening her mouth wide. The sight and aroma of new fuckmeat overwhelmed her senses.
"I need to taste you." She guided the pulsing head of his cock past her lips. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the silky warmth, slickness, and flavor of his dripping pre-cum.
Iris loved sucking cock more than anything on Earth--she loved it even more than a big dick up her cunt. She didn't know why, and she'd never wasted much time wondering about it. She only knew that she'd been addicted to giving blowjobs ever since the first time a man's prick had erupted in her mouth to feed her a hot, creamy cum-load.
During courtship and the early years of her marriage to George Maguire, she'd insisted-- demanded --that he let her suck him off several times a day. At first, he'd been naturally grateful to have wed a voracious cumslut who apparently lived for the chance to swallow his jism any time he wanted. Over time, however, her singular obsession had started to trouble him. He'd insisted that she see a therapist.
That was George Maguire all over, a man who could find a turd in a diamond mine.
Iris's therapist had not succeeded in diagnosing the root of her oral preoccupation. She wasn't sure that he'd put much effort into it, because as soon as he'd grasped the nature of her obsession their weekly meetings had quickly developed into hour-long suck sessions. Sometimes he'd invited other psychiatrists in his practice to join them "in consultation." These worthy professionals became yet more new sources of semen for her cum-craving palate. Several times she'd taken on three or four men who'd relaxed on her doctor's sofa with their cocks out as she'd worked her way down the line.
That had reminded her of her school days. It was loads of fun but somehow hadn't solved her problem at home. She always needed more fucking.
"Unngggh! Oh, fuck, that feels great. Suck it, babe! Work out on my goddamn dick!" Holland watched as she bobbed her face on his cock, her eyes blissfully shut and her nostrils flaring with the effort to breathe as she took another inch or two of his length down her throat with each repetition.
The gurgling, slurping hum Iris made as she sucked left no doubt of the joy she took in the act. Her cheeks hollowed and puffed out like bellows as she stretched her lips around him and vacuumed his cock-head into the top of her throat. Pleasure sparked in her tits and pussy as his fuck-rod slipped further and further into her. She cradled his balls in her palm, kneading and squeezing his full, heavy scrotum. Based on her many years of experience at draining men's nuts, she expected that she'd soon be gulping down quite a lot of cum.
As always when she sucked cock, Iris soon grew oblivious to everything other than the glorious sensation of Holland's prick swelling and moving inside her. His knob dripped a steady flow of pre-cum, easing its passage down her gullet. She swirled her tongue around his cock-stalk, licking up the salty fluid and swallowing it hungrily.
"You're one sweet cocksucking whore, Iris. I should have been balling you for years," Holland growled. He grabbed her head, tangling his fingers in her hair and holding her still as he bucked his hips sharply, drilling his prick powerfully in and out of her spasming throat. His balls slapped her chin and his coarse belly hair mashed into her nose as he mercilessly fucked her face.
Iris gagged and almost choked for an instant, but she recovered quickly. Rough sex was nothing new to her, and Jack Holland was not the first stud who'd lost control at the brink of his climax. She'd once handled three truckers in a midnight gangbang behind a dive bar in Denver; she could handle one middle-aged lawyer who thought he was a superstud.
Grabbing his ass cheeks in both hands she held his crotch snugly against her face, rhythmically contracting and relaxing her throat muscles to trigger his orgasm as easily as if she were jerking him off in her fist.
"Gonna shoot! Oh fuck!" Holland climaxed, his cock twitching and jumping in her mouth. She greedily gulped and swallowed the hot cream pumping from his prick, sucking hard, determined to milk every drop of his load, hungry for a belly full of ball juice. Her tits bounced against her chest as she resumed bobbing her head up and down his rod, shuddering all over. Blast after blast of tasty jism spurted onto her tongue and rolled down her throat. This was probably his first orgasm of the day. Iris expected that he'd shoot enough to satisfy her cum hunger--at least for the moment. She grabbed his shaft and jacked it rhythmically, fondling and stirring his balls with her other hand to encourage and extend his orgasm.
At last, Iris let the lawyer slip from her mouth. She caught the last dribbles of white goo on her parted lips and stuck out her tongue to lick them clean. Gasping for breath, she slumped and rested her head against one of his legs, an arm curled around his thigh. Inches from her face a mixture of his jism and her spit slowly dripped from the tip of his prick onto the brocade carpet. She was pleased to see that he was still half-erect.
"Let me clean that up," she whispered, lifting her face to his prick again. "I'll have you hard in no time and we can screw. My hot little cunt's wet and ready for a good fuck."
"Nah. Don't think so." To Iris's shock, Holland yawned lazily and got up from his chair, retrieving his clothes from his desktop. I've got other clients this morning. Paying clients."
If she hadn't been so horny, she would have immediately sensed that she was in over her head. But she'd grown too used to relying upon what she thought was her irresistible sexual allure. Rolling over and looking at Holland through half-closed eyes, she spread her firm thighs enticingly and slid one slender finger into her slit. "I haven't come yet, Jack. Come on, you owe a gal--"
"Did you hear me? Your husband's appointment is in ten minutes."
"What?" She sat bolt upright. "George is coming here?"
"Uh-huh." Holland sneered, enjoying himself. "He put me on retainer three days ago, to handle the divorce. In the interest of, ah, professional ethics I let him know that you'd already gotten in touch. He suggested that I go ahead and have a little fun with you. What was it he said? Oh, yeah --'Why should you be the only guy in town she hasn't humped,' is how he put it."
"You bastard! You motherfucking son of a--"
"Get yourself dressed." Holland zipped up his trousers and buckled his belt, then tied and offhandedly adjusted his necktie. "Oh, and leave the earrings. Diamonds, aren't they? George showed me the receipts, I said I'd recover them for him."
Contemptuously, he threw Iris's skirt and blouse on the carpet in front of her. "Hurry it up. It'd be pretty embarrassing for you to have George walk in here while you're wiping my spunk off your mouth. Although I'm sure he and I would get a laugh out of it."
She scrambled to her feet, wanting to hurl herself at Holland and tear his mocking eyes out of his face. But no. Adding aggravated assault to the list of her transgressions would play into his hands.
"If I were you, I'd take a little trip somewhere," he suggested. The smug bastard's voice was almost soothing, as if he hadn't just humiliated her. "Get out of town for as long as you can. Once word gets around about what you and Greg did--and I promise you, I'll see that it gets around--you won't have a friend left who wants to be seen anywhere near you."
"I've got nowhere to go," Iris said numbly.
"Yeah, well, maybe you should have thought of that before you went and fucked your own son. Right? Now, scoot. Skedaddle.
"Get out!"
Iris sat in her ancient Volvo in Holland's parking lot and sobbed. Her rule was to allow herself ten minutes of grief before getting on with the business of living. Few men had made her cry. None of them had been worth more than five minutes.
Fifteen minutes passed before she wiped the mascara from her cheeks and set about fixing her face in the rear-view mirror.
She needed a new plan.
First order of business was to find more permanent lodging for herself and her son Greg than the decrepit walk-up hotel room they'd holed up in together. She figured that her one remaining credit card would hit its limit by the end of the week, anyway.
Jack Holland had been right about one goddamned thing. She and Greg would be better off right now anywhere other than in this town.
What about Victoria, then? Calling her sister for help was the last thing Iris wanted to do. They had not parted well, the last time around. But she simply didn't see another, better choice. And this couldn't be about her pride. She had to think about what was best for Greg.
And while Iris hated to admit it, deep inside she missed her sister. She needed her family.
Vicky certainly had the space to spare for a few guests.
Steeling herself, Iris picked up her phone and made the call.
####
I have got to stop doing this, Victoria told herself, shifting her ass forward and spreading her legs wider apart on the glass tile seat of the spa while sipping from her second mimosa of the day. Her free hand was beneath the water, the manicured tips of her fingers sliding under the hem of her bikini bottom.
It was a few minutes past twelve on a sunny Tuesday in June, and Victoria Stone was starting her afternoon as she most often did: drinking her lunch alone and masturbating in the Jacuzzi on the pool deck behind the manor.
She glanced furtively in the direction of the tennis courts, where her son and a girl from his college bounded back and forth across the clay, sweating in the heat, laughing and calling out points as they volleyed back and forth.
Victoria couldn't remember the girl's name. She wasn't sure whether or not they were a couple. That would be good. Kyle was nineteen years old, and his mother hoped that even though he didn't have a steady girlfriend he at least was getting laid. Because Victoria was getting fuck-all.
She'd spent most of the morning in the master bedroom with her collection of vibrators, getting herself off repeatedly. It wasn't enough. It was never enough. She'd never make it through the two weeks until her husband's return from Japan, and three days after that he'd be gone again, bound for Finland.
Barry had once been an all-time great NFL running back, one of the seeming few with the good sense to have hung up his cleats at the peak of his career with his brain and body still intact. It was a hell of a body, too, and Barry was a hell of a stud. They'd met and married at the dawn of his career, after a brief courtship that had consisted largely of dodging paparazzi in search of private places to fuck.
It wasn't Barry the press was chasing. Promising as the rookie was, in those days Victoria had been the main publicity angle. She was at the top of her modeling career, far from just another WAG. Most in the media who stalked them so relentlessly didn't expect the union to last. But Victoria and Barry had at least two things in common that few appreciated.
In the first place, they were both kids from the Midwest who were ill at ease in the glare of the bright lights.
And in the second, the tall, regal young redhead and her giant Adonis were an insatiable match in the bedroom.
When the frantic extravagance of their celebrity became too much, they'd bought this isolated coastal estate and dismissed all but a few of the staff. They had no fixed plans other than spending their nights and days naked and fucking.
Remembering the first years of their marriage, Vicki sighed wistfully and took a long swig of her drink. She tugged the crotch of her suit to one side and repositioned herself over one of the spa's water jets. The warm stream of bubbles flowed over her mound and tickled her bare pussy lips, sending a fresh surge of arousal radiating through her belly and thighs and tits. God, how she needed cock right now!
If Barry Stone came home to find her gone stark raving mad from sexual deprivation, he'd have no one to blame but himself.
After a few years of what Victoria had considered pure bliss, Barry had turned out not to be quite as done with life in the spotlight as she. When an upstart streaming sports network came calling to offer him a lucrative on-air contract he'd leaped at the opportunity. The salary and back-end money, he told his distressed wife, was too good to pass up. He was doing it for them as well as for Kyle.
And so for most of the year, now, the only way that Victoria saw her husband between her legs at night was on the bedroom television, a distant talking head anchoring broadcasts from Brazil or Abu Dhabi for sports he'd never played. Soccer. Cricket. Gymnastics.
She drained her glass and set it aside. She turned the water jet between her legs to the highest setting.
Yes, she definitely needed to find another hobby before she wound up like her sister.
Iris's tearful phone call had come from out of the blue after years of no more personal contact than annual Christmas cards. She'd carefully left out most of the details of her split from George Maguire, but it wasn't hard to fill in the blanks. Iris was an unabashed slut, fucking and sucking her way through life with alarming abandon, and unless George was an idiot he must have been aware of her endless infidelities. But after twenty years together, something had changed.
Whatever the final straw had been, it must have been a doozy.
Victoria couldn't help the delightfully lurid images that flashed through her mind when she thought about Iris and her escapades. She untied her suit bottom, pulled it off, and plopped it onto the deck. Draping her arms over the tub rim to either side she levered herself up to float a few inches above the bubbling jet. She rolled gently from side to side, just enough to better aim the folds of her pussy at the tingling spray. Resisting the temptation to touch her clit, she let herself relax and enjoy the slowly building erotic heat in her pelvis.
t was deceptively soothing at first, but she'd learned that when she came this way her climax would hit like lightning. Masturbation was a poor substitute for hard cock, but Victoria Stone had made a study of it out of necessity. She could write a book: A Thousand Ways to Cum With Simple Things You Find At Home.
She was almost there. Her toes curled and the muscles of her inner thighs clenched...
"Hey, Mom!"
Kyle strode up from the courts toward her, racket swinging in hand. Mercifully, he was alone. Victoria dropped onto her seat and crossed her legs.
"Wha--what do you need?" she stuttered, mortified at almost having orgasmed right in front of her son.
"Housekeeper called," Kyle said, stepping up onto the deck. "You didn't tell him when we're expecting Aunt Iris. He needs to open up the guest house."
"They, uh, they should be here day after tomorrow," Victoria replied. "She and Greg are driving halfway across the country. I'm sorry, I should have made that clear." She looked past her son, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. "Where's your friend...Linda?"
"Lana. She said she had a hair appointment. Probably bored with beating my ass." Kyle peered closely at his mother. "You all right? You're red."
"Fine. I'm fine. You just startled me. I must have dozed off."
"Not cool. Not alone in the water." He inspected the nearly-empty pitcher by her side with the air of a policeman. "I worry about you, Mom. I worry a lot these days."
Seeing him tower over her so protectively, Vicki was struck by how much Kyle resembled his father. He was at least five years younger than Barry when they'd first met, but they were like twins born decades apart. They had the same dark curly hair and strong chins, the same easy "ah shucks" smile, and the same huge, powerful physiques.
Father and son were alike in one more important way: the erection straining Kyle's tennis shorts was at least as big as Barry's. She'd first noticed months ago and was ashamed of herself for checking him out ever since when the chance arose. It was no accident that she'd decided to soak outside this afternoon when she'd spotted him headed over to the courts in his tennis whites.
Her son was standing three feet from her, and she couldn't take her eyes off his cock.
"Lana shouldn't have run off in such a hurry. She may have missed an opportunity."
"Huh?" Following his mother's gaze, Kyle blushed darkly. "Oh, shit," he muttered. "For chrissakes, I'm sorry. Don't--"
"Why so bashful?" Victoria teased. I'm drunker than I realized, she told herself. That had to be it. No way was she flirting with Kyle. But she couldn't stop herself, trapped in a spiral of shock, intrigue, and arousal. "I understand how you feel," she heard herself say. "I remember what it's like to be young and in--"
"Mom, stop talking! Jeez!" For a heartbeat, it looked like he would bolt away toward the house. That would have been a relief. She would have let him go, and come up with an excuse for her behavior later. When she'd sobered up. But he just stood there staring at her as if hypnotized.
Not daring to think, Vicki stretched languidly, thrusting her big, barely-covered tits out of the water.
"That is for Lana, isn't it?" she murmured. On impulse, she reached up and ran her hand along the waistband of his shorts. "Surely there's no one else around here to turn you on that way. No one at all." She held out her hand to him. "Get in," she purred. "Rinse the sweat off."
Kyle hesitated for a moment, then stripped off his shoes and shirt and stepped down into the Jacuzzi. He started to sit down against the far wall, but Victoria grabbed his hand and yanked him toward her. She hugged him close and kissed the corner of his mouth.
"Jeez, Mom..."
"I don't know this Lana, but I believe I'm quite angry with her." Victoria rested a hand on one of her son's muscular thighs, just above the knee. "What kind of a mean trick is that, getting you all worked up and then running away? It's not fair, not fair at all."
"It was only tennis," Kyle said, flustered. "I'm not even into her."
"Then what...caused...this?" She slid her small hand upward, her fingers barely brushing the hair of his thigh. "It can't possibly be for your worn-out old mom."
"This is crazy. And anyway, you're not old." Kyle chattered nervously, but he didn't try to push her hand away. "You're not even forty, and if you wanted to work you could pick up the phone and call any agency. Matter of fact, that's a good idea. You need to be busy, you know? Get away from here, meet people..."
"You're people." If there was one thing Victoria had learned from her career, it was to recognize when a man wanted her. No matter how Kyle struggled to hide it she could read it in his eyes.
She eased her hand up a leg of his shorts.
What am I doing? God help me.
Her pulse roared in her ears and she trembled so violently that it sent little ripples rolling along the water's surface. Her fingers closed delicately around the girth of her son's cock.
He winced, clenched his eyes shut, and groaned.
Kyle was bigger than his father. Victoria hadn't gotten her hands on Barry's cock in what seemed like months now, but she was sure that her son's was bigger around. Longer, too, she decided as her fingernails traced up the length of his iron-like shaft. He twisted in his seat, pretending to try to escape her explorations, but he also spread his legs wider and angled his hips up toward her.
"If I did cause this, it's only right that I should help. No reason you should suffer." She pulled gently on his cock.
"T-this isn't right, Mom." It was not so much protest as seeking reassurance. He wanted permission.
"No, it's not. It's totally wrong, so terribly wrong...and it'll only be this one time, all right?" Victoria babbled, talking as much to herself as to Kyle. Whatever had possessed her, she needed this--this release. Never mind the dangers, crossing that taboo line was exhilarating.
She'd never been so fucking horny in her life.
Was this what it was like to be Iris? She wondered.
She'd be Iris, then, just for today. Although she couldn't imagine that even Iris would do so wicked a thing as masturbating her son.
Kyle let out a satisfying gasp as she cupped and hefted his huge nuts. The throbbing of his pulse beneath the taut velvet skin of his ball sack delighted her.
When she closed her hand around his cock she moaned softly, delighted to feel the rush of his blood along the shaft beneath the velvety skin.
"Uhngh! Oh, man, that feels great!" Kyle kept his eyes closed and leaned his head back, squirming helplessly at his mother's practiced handling. His cock was still growing, the angry purple head pushing up out of his shorts
"Help me get these off," she rasped, grabbing his waistband with her free hand. "I need more room. I need to see, damn it." Kyle pulled his shorts down and wriggled out of them. She gawked, feasting her eyes on his youthful, virile glory: her son had the cock and balls of a pagan god. She'd never seen anything so beautiful.
Victoria took Kyle's cock in her hand and started jacking him off.
She pumped him in a steady rhythm, exactly as she so often had his father. The first time she'd given Barry a hand job, he'd shot a torrent of thick white cum at least a foot into the air. That had been a revelation; she'd never seen a man climax with such force or shoot so much jism.
She bet that Kyle would best his father there, as well.
Now that she wasn't constrained by clinging wet fabric she could continue her motherly ministrations using both hands, rolling his balls in one while her other fist flew up and down his prick. Pre-cum floated from his cum-slit, clouding the water. She collected the slippery stuff in her hand and used it to lube him up.
What would her son's cum taste like?
Her mouth watered at the unbidden question. She promised herself that she would never know. This was only a hand job, not sex, a once-in-a-lifetime succumbing to weakness and curiosity. Victoria would never suck her son off, never drink his cum, and never ever would she open her legs to him and--
Kyle touched her inner thigh. He'd discovered that she was naked down there.
"Awwhh..." she moaned, automatically parting her legs to let her son touch her pussy. A blunt but gentle finger stroked her mound and around the outer folds of her slit, parting her sex lips to probe her tight little cunt.
"Ohhhh!" Victoria's eyes flew wide open. She paused in her hot handiwork, momentarily paralyzed by the unexpected jolt of pure pleasure. Her son was finger-fucking her!
"You okay, Mom? Please, don't stop. You're making me feel so good." Kyle bucked his hips, thrusting his prick up and down through the snug oval of Victoria's lightly gripping fingers. Sensing his imminent orgasm, she resumed pulling on his shaft.
"Do it! Do it!" she yelped. "Cum for me, darling, cum!"
"Fuuucck...." A milky white cloud of cum blossomed in the water. The force of his ejaculation was so strong that it jetted all the way up to break and foam on the surface.
Though he flailed and kicked uncontrollably, Kyle didn't' neglect his mother for a split-second. His fingers rolled and stroked the swollen bud of her clit so artfully that, in her mad excitement, it took required mere seconds to trigger her orgasm. She climaxed with a shriek while he continued shooting his load.
At last Victoria's breathing slowed and her frenzied lust subsided. Her mind cleared for the first time all day.
"Oh no," she whimpered. "Oh no...no, NO!"
"Mom... it's all right," Kyle whispered. He took her in his arms, holding her close. "It's all right."
"Oh, Kyle, I'm so sorry..."
"Don't. Shhh. It's okay. " He gave her a smitten, puppy-dog smile.
"No. No, it's not!" Victoria protested. Her son's calm reassurance had the very opposite of his intention. Glad as she was that he wasn't freaked out by what they'd done, the assumption of new intimacy in his voice alarmed her.
"It'll be okay," he insisted. "We can sort it out. And look, we can do this. That is, if it's really what you want." Kyle's cock pressed against her thigh, still huge even as it softened. His fingers moved up her back, lingering at the tie holding her bikini top in place and tugging at it as if to finish undressing her.
She pushed him away. "I'm sorry," she repeated. Her heart no longer raced with lust, but in panic. "I'm so, so sorry, baby...I don't know how I could have done that!"
She scrambled out of the tub, grabbing a towel to cover herself.
"Mom, don't!"
"It won't happen again, Kyle. I promise! Never again!" She fled into the house and up the stairs, locking her bedroom door behind her before collapsing in sobs on the carpet.
"Greg, could you please not throw wet towels on the bathroom floor?"
"Mom, leaving the towels on the floor is how room service knows to replace them. Read the damn sign."
"Well, I say it's just lazy."
Greg Maguire sat up on one side of the small motel room's double bed, TV remote in hand, surfing through the paltry selection of basic channels the place offered for free. The boredom vanished, instantly replaced by horny appreciation, when he saw his mother in the bathroom doorway wearing nothing but a towel. The cheap motel linens were thin and undersized, and the towel only covered Iris from halfway up her nipples to barely below her crotch. The generous curves and deep valley of her cleavage and the smoothly glistening flesh of her shapely legs were exposed to his smoldering blue eyes.
He turned off the television and flung the remote control onto the lamp table. "Lose the towel," he said with a lewd grin.
"Let's talk for a few minutes, first," Iris demurred. "About how things are going to be at your Aunt Vicky's. We'll have to make some adjustments."
"Like what, we're going to be sleeping in separate broom closets?"
"Hah! As if. You know Vicki and Barry are filthy rich. She's actually putting us up in our own place on the grounds. Plenty of space, plenty of privacy."
"Then what's the problem?"
Iris sat down on the edge of the bed. "For starts, take the attitude down a couple of notches. I need you on your best behavior--"
"Don't talk to me like I'm a kid."
"Oh, you're very much a man." Nearly twenty years old and built like an Olympic athlete, Greg was two hundred and twenty pounds of hard, lean muscle and animal aggression. He attacked life like a hungry prizefighter on his way up.
"Vicky hasn't seen you for a long time," Iris said. "You want to make a good first impression."
"I always do." His bravado was annoying, but another part of his magnetism. At least, Iris thought so.
"I'm serious. Promise me--"
"Sure, Mom. Whatever you say."
Greg shrugged and threw off the covers, exposing his fully erect cock. Iris's chiding words died in her throat. Her son had learned all too well how to derail her feeble attempts at discipline. Since she'd first gotten his huge, beautiful cock into her cunt she could never say "No" to him about anything and make it stick.
"This whole situation is screwed up. It's a goddamn shame Dad couldn't leave well enough alone. He had to go and spy on us. It's not like he was true to you, anyway. Everybody in town talked about it."
"So true. There's still such a thing as the double standard, especially in a small town like ours."
"I dunno why he'd even want to fuck somebody besides you. You're the greatest slut in the world."
"That's sweet of you to say." Iris smiled. "And you're right. And George knew what I was when he married me. Why ever would he think that I'd balk at fucking you. Once I got a good look at your this big pussy-pleaser, I was a goner."
She ran her fingers along the length of her son's cock. "God, how I do love this monster." When she leaned forward to plant a kiss on the plum-sized knob, Greg caught the corner of her towel and yanked it away.
"Yeah, that's how I like you," he said with a smirk.
"Oh my goodness! Why did you do that? Now look at me, I'm all naked!" Iris said with feigned indignation. She cupped her mammoth tits and lifted them, parting her legs to flash him an enticing glimpse at her pussy. "Yes, naked and ready for my son. My own flesh and blood." Her breath quickened under his roaming gaze. His prick surged in her hand.
"On your back, woman. I'm gonna fuck me some mother-cunt."
"Gregory Stone! Is that any way to speak to your mother?"
"Knock it off, Mom. You know you want it. We ain't fucked since this morning."
Iris steeled herself to not give in. Not right away. The battle between maternal good judgment and the irresistible demands of her horny cunt was one she'd lost ages ago. But she'd learned a few ways to get the upper hand.
"Look at how wet I am right now," she cooed. Reclining against her pillow she bent her knees and spread her milky thighs wide. Greg never could resist the sight of his mother's little slit. She'd shaved in the shower, teasing herself to the point that her cunt was moist and dewy with arousal.
"Suck Mommy's pussy, Greg. If you want to stick that horse's dick in me, you'll have to give me a good cum first. "
Without another word he crawled across the bed, his big cock swinging club-like between his legs. He dropped to his belly on the mattress and buried his face between his mother's thighs.
"Yesssss..." she sighed with relief. He slid his hands under her butt, raising her pelvis to the best angle for his tongue to deeply penetrate her drooling sex hole, He licked up and down the creases of her thighs with tantalizing slowness, once in a while swiping his tongue-tip lightly over her mound.
"Oh yeah, Baby." Iris gyrated her hips in small circles. "That's the way, take your time. "Mmm, I must be the luckiest mother in the world. You eat pussy better than any other man I've been with."
That wasn't just motherly pride speaking. The list of men who'd gone down on Iris was legion, but none sucked her with Greg's filial devotion. But then, she'd coached him patiently, exactly to her taste, and rewarded him for doing a good job in the way most meaningful to a strapping young stud: by draining his balls in endlessly creative ways. He was nearly as good now with his tongue as a woman.
It wasn't long before the delicious spasms started building deep inside her cunt. "I'm almost there, Baby. Keep licking, suck Mommy's clitty! There, right there, SO good..."
Propping his mother's ass up with only one hand, Greg slid two fingers up to their knuckles in her convulsing sex channel. She squealed in joyful surprise when he started finger-fucking her while kissing and nibbling at her clit.
"Cummminnnng!" Iris grabbed her son's head and held his face against her mound, draping her legs over his shoulders and grinding her hips against his mouth. "Jesus God I'm...I'm dying..."
She heaved her ass off the bed, squeezing her thighs around Greg's head as a fantastic orgasm wracked her from head to toe.
Greg pushed her legs apart and sat back on his haunches, pussy juice smeared and glistening on his chin. His hard prick jutted out over her stomach. "You ready now, slut?"
"Ready," Iris whispered hoarsely. "Take me now, Greg. Fuck your mother."
"Hah! As if." With that, Greg sprang forward and planted his knees on either side of her ribcage. His balls slapped and bounced against her tits. Before she could move he caught her wrists in his big hands and pulled her arms up above her head. The dark, angry head of his cock hovered a few inches from her face. "You sure you want this?"
"Greg, sweetheart--"
Pre-cum ran dripped in a long, sticky strand from the tip of his cock onto her chest. He dragged his cock-knob across her lips. "Show me how much you want my dick, Mom."
Iris's senses swam at his heat and the tantalizing flavor of hot male juice on her lips. She flicked her tongue out to swipe up a few drops of the crystal-clear liquid. Her mouth gaped open. "Feed me," she mewled.
Greg shoved the first several inches of his cock into her waiting mouth so abruptly that she gagged momentarily. She opened her mouth as far as she possibly could, relaxing her muscles to give him a clear open path to the bottom of her throat.
Iris took a whorish pride in being able to swallow her son's entire prick all at once. Despite decades of giving blowjobs to big guys from eighteen to eighty, Greg's enormous rod had been a challenge to get down her throat at all in the beginning. Fortunately, he was more than happy to make himself available for her to practice any time she wanted.
Wet gurgling sounds filled the room as the voluptuous blonde mother worked her mouth over her son's plunging cock. Saliva overflowed her lips and dripped down her chin. She put her hands on the backs of his thighs to steady herself and to hold him still. As much as Greg enjoyed pumping his mother's mouth hard for a lusty face-fuck, tonight she was in the mood to offer her son something even more thrilling.
With Greg's cock lodged completely down her throat, his swollen scrotum pressed against her chin, Iris concentrated on breathing slowly in and out through her nose. She rhythmically contracted and relaxed the muscles of her throat, squeezing and releasing his steely shaft. At the same time, she flexed and rolled her tongue in an undulating motion along the underside of his cock.
Back in the small town they'd called home until a few days ago, Iris Maguire's magical milking mouth was the stuff of local legend. She could keep a man on the edge of nutting for as long as she chose, savoring a leisurely pre-cum cocktail, then making him climax and slurping down a satisfying meal of jism.
No one's jism was as thick, rich, and delicious as Greg's. Her son was so young and potent, she'd bet that his semen must be chock full of enough sperm to impregnate the female population of the entire Midwest.
She took her time, coaxing him close to the edge and then easing up on him several times before deciding that she'd waited long enough. She gave him a final flick of her tongue tip right behind his glans. He went completely stiff and came with a roar that shook the flimsy bed frame.
"Mmmm," she moaned, swallowing greedily as the first sizzling shot of son-spunk rifled down her throat. But before she could swallow a second spurt, Greg yanked his cock out of her mouth. Cum fountained and splashed onto her face and tits.
"What are you doing?" she gasped. His only answer was to hook his arms under her knees and pull her leg up and open, pointing his prick at the wet pink target between her legs.
Greg slammed his massive cock full-length into his mother in one thrust. He was still cumming, pumping jism forcefully up her cunt.
"Aieeee!" Iris shrieked like a madwoman as the biggest cock she'd ever taken suddenly plugged her pussy, almost blacking out from the intense, wicked joy of having her own son fill her unprotected womb with his potent seed.
"Oh yeah, fuck me, Baby!" she cried out as she recovered from the first shock of his penetration. She arched her back, lifting her hips and humping like a wild animal. "Fuck Mommy hard!"
Greg's balls were empty but he kept right on pounding his mother's pussy. With every inward stroke, she snapped her cunt tight around his plundering prick to keep him hard. He plunged into her unceasingly, driving inch after inch of hard teen meat into her tight, buttery depths. His hands closed on her mammoth tits, squeezing and molding them.
"Harder, stud! Split me in two!" Iris ran her hands over his chest, tweaking his nipples before reaching around to grab his pistoning ass. She dug her fingernails into his flesh, spurring him on to hammer her harder. Even though he'd cum only minutes before, his cock was as stiff as when she would wake him for their first fuck of the morning.
Greg's balls slapped her ass as he picked up the pace, pulling out until only his cock-knob was embedded between her sopping pussy lips and then driving full force into her on each stroke. "Ya like that, Mom?" he grunted. "Tell me how much you like having your pussy stretched out by my fat prick."
"You...know...I...DO!" She could barely speak, her breath coming in short hard gasps. He knew the answer, anyway; his cock took her to heights of ecstasy she'd never dreamt of in all her slutty adventures until the day she'd seduced her son.
"I'm gonna blow again! Gonna fill your slutty cunt 'til you overflow!"
"Again? Again? Sweet Jesus!" The kid was more than a bull, he was a fucking machine. With a last thrust, he sank his whole prick into her and erupted, blasting another hot geyser of cum all the way to her cervix.
Greg pulled out of his mother and rolled onto his back, completely spent.
For the moment.
Iris didn't doubt that her son would be ready for another lusty round within the hour. She patted his wilting rod lovingly. In her secret heart, she admitted to herself that her son had conquered her after all. She belonged to him, for him to love, to use however he desired, or abandon if he liked. She hoped against hope that he would never fully grasp that truth. Then she would be utterly powerless.
"Remember what you promised before," she whispered. "Never you mind all the complaining I might have done about your Aunt Vicky over the years. You treat her nice. With respect."
"I'm gonna fuck her," Greg bragged. "Same as I fuck you."
"Okay. But you might get that chance sooner if you do exactly as Mother says."
"You got a plan?"
"Not yet. But I've got ideas."
####
The guest house on the grounds of the Stone estate was a brick cottage with three bedrooms and a large sitting room, located a five-minute walk from the manor house. "I hope you two will be comfortable here," Victoria said as she showed Iris around the place.
"Comfortable? Vicky, it's twice the size of the house you and I grew up in!"
"It is, isn't it?" They laughed together and, on impulse, Victoria threw her arms around her sister and hugged her close. Iris stiffened for a moment before relaxing into the embrace.
"I'm so glad you're here, Sis. It's been too long," Victoria said.
"Yeah, way too long."
Iris had changed remarkably little over the years since her sister had last seen her. She was still bubbly, energetic, and outgoing in contrast to Victoria's shy reticence. Iris was a toucher--as she wandered around the sitting room, running her hands over the antique furniture and the granite and brass details of the wall-sized hearth, Victoria marveled at how untroubled she appeared to be given all that had befallen her.
Not that Iris was always so unflappable. The long rift between them testified to that.
Iris and Barry had dated long before he and Victoria had gotten together. But then, promiscuous Iris had dated everybody in school. She noticed Victoria's interest in Barry and, characteristically, took it in her stride.
"I'm not stuck on him, Sis," she'd confided. "He's got a big dick, but there's no shortage of that kind, not for me. I'm kind of a big-cock magnet, right?"
Yet as Victoria and Barry had grown closer, Victoria and Iris had grown distant from one another. They'd always been close, sometimes too close, in ways both exciting and troubling, and the emotional distance hurt. But Victoria assumed that they'd get past it--that was, until the night before her wedding.
She didn't remember how the argument had started, but it ended with Iris accusing her of disloyalty, and her screaming back that Iris was just plain jealous. The next morning, a seemingly unperturbed Iris had cheerfully performed her duties as maid of honor and been the center of all the guys' attention at the reception. But by the time the newlyweds returned from their honeymoon Iris had eloped with one of Barry's groomsmen and left town.
It was months before the sisters spoke again, and years before they saw one another. Lighthearted, outgoing Iris, who'd never been one to hold a grudge, had kept Victoria at arm's length ever since.
"You have such lovely things," Iris said. "I love everything about the place. As for Greg, Hell, just tell me that the Wi-Fi's good. That's all he'll care about." She noticed that Veronica was distracted. "What's on your mind? Is this all too weird?"
"No! Not a bit," Victoria half-lied. "I was just remembering...stuff. I'm honestly surprised at how well you're taking the split. I can't believe that George is so determined to screw you out of your share of everything."
Iris shrugged. "Brought it on myself. I'll land on my feet, just give me time to catch my breath. But that's not all that's on your mind, isn't there?"
Victoria was startled. "What makes you say that?"
"Who do you think you're talking to? I know you too well, Vicky. When I called the other day you were fine--for being you--and now it seems like the weight of the world is pressing down on you. Things okay between you and Barry?"
"Sure. I mean, we're not fighting or anything. But it gets lonely with him gone most of the time." She meant to leave it at that but having her sister and longtime confidant back caused her to let down her guard. "I don't do 'alone' well. Never did. And then I do things I shouldn't."
"Things?" Iris looked intrigued. "You mean things like, uh, sexy things? Oh, sweetheart, you're not banging the butler?"
"Oh, Christ! Is sex all that's ever on your mind?"
"Yeah, pretty much. But look at you, you're beet red from the tips of your ears to...everywhere, probably. I hit a nerve. Come on, I can tell when you're horny." She lowered her voice, stepping closer to Victoria. "I always could."
Iris slipped an arm around her sister's waist and led her to sit on the sofa. Victoria was shocked at how easily she still responded when Iris kissed her on the lips. But then guilt reared up in her and she pulled away.
"Please don't, Iris. We're not young anymore."
"I'm not old. I don't feel old." Iris cupped one of Victoria's tits through her top. "And you sure don't look old. What have you done to yourself? Come on, let's have a look."
Before Victoria could object, Iris's nimble fingers had her shirt unbuttoned and off of her shoulders.
"Wow. I like!"
"You're incorrigible. You--you really like them?"
"What, are you an idiot? They're perfect."
"They were kind of a retirement gift when I stopped modeling. They didn't exactly go with my runway look."
"You were a gazelle, that's for sure." A shadow passed over Iris's face. "So Barry paid for those?"
Victoria nodded uncomfortably. "I always envied you," she deflected. "You inherited Mom's big boobs."
"These itty-bitty things?" Iris pulled her own tee shirt off over her head and unsnapped her bra, letting her big tits bounce free. "Your turn."
"Haven't we both outgrown this?" Victoria feigned exasperation. "Because I have."
"The hell you have. The only difference between us, Vicky, is that I'm honest about what I want and I go for it. You're as hot-blooded as I am."
"Am not! You always started it."
"Not always. The first time, maybe. But after that? You begged for it. You loved it every time."
Victoria stared open-mouthed at her sister for several seconds. "I did," she finally confessed. "I loved it."
"And you still do. Look at you squirming around, you can't sit still even talking about fucking. Loneliness is driving you nuts. Loneliness and horniness." Iris kissed Victoria again, this time on the neck, working upward to her ear. "But we're together now and we're gonna fix that. The way that we always did."
Victoria squeezed her thighs together and pressed her clasped hands into her lap, willing her pussy to stop tingling. It didn't work. She felt wetness seep into her panties.
"I'll tell you a secret, Vicky. I was never angry that you landed Barry," Iris whispered. "I was jealous of him for taking you away from me."
Iris's words bridged the distance between them and swept away the decades. It was as they were back in the little bedroom that they'd shared all their lives, right through high school and even their first years of college--before Victoria had won the state pageant, dropped out, and moved to New York to pursue her modeling career.
Their relationship changed after Iris turned eighteen. Night after night, Victoria had listened from her lower bunk as her younger sister had sighed and moaned and masturbated to orgasm in the warm darkness.
At first, the sounds went on for half an hour or so before Iris settled down, letting Victoria drift off to sleep at a reasonable hour. With time, Iris got louder and went on longer, obsessively getting herself off well into the early morning hours. One night, Victoria had finally had enough. "Some of us have morning classes," she'd objected.
"And there's a reason I don't," Iris shot back.
"Isn't once or twice a night enough? I don't get what the big fucking deal is about playing with yourself."
Iris's curious face appeared over the side of the bunk above Victoria. "Then you must not be doin' it right, Vicks."
That very night, Iris began teaching her sister how to "do it right." Sliding into bed with Victoria, pulling up her cotton nightie, Iris traced her fingertips over her sister's swollen cunt. She spread the pink folds of Victoria's pussy lips to expose and open her silken slit, easing her finger inside.
"You're pretty tight. How's a guy even get his dick in here?"
"They don't," Victoria snapped. "That is, I haven't..."
"You're a goddamned virgin?"
"You make it sound like something terrible!"
"It's a terrible waste, is what it is," Iris had sniffed, but her excited eyes had fairly glowed in the darkness of the bedroom. "Sweetie, I'm gonna teach you so much. When I'm done, you'll be raring to open your legs to all comers. And after that...after that, we're gonna get you laid."
She was as good as her word. After awakening Victoria to the wonders of soft lips and fingers and tongue on her mouth and nipples and pussy, after teaching her to sixty-nine and lighting a fire within her that would flare and smolder but never again be extinguished, Iris introduced her to other lovers. Campus studs, guys who'd earned Iris's seal of approval.
The memories of their adventures overwhelmed Victoria, and it was as if she and Iris had never parted. As if all of the years of estrangement had been an ugly dream.
Victoria reached behind her back and unsnapped her bra.
A lewd smile crept across Iris's features as she admired her sister's large, perfectly shaped breasts. She lifted one of Victoria's tits and dipped her head to catch the nipple between her lips, tickling it with her darting tongue.
"Ahhh..." Iris still had the magic touch. No woman had touched Victoria's breasts in ages. Nor had any man, for that matter. Her pussy ached with arousal.
"The pants, too." When Victoria didn't move, Iris slid onto the floor and knelt to unzip her sister's slacks and pull them off.
"Look at how wet you are!" Iris stroked Victoria's pussy through her sheer white underpants. Instinctively, Victoria opened her legs wider and scooted to the edge of the cushion. Iris hooked her fingers through the elastic waistband of the panties and yanked them down.
Iris's fingers burrowed into her sister's pussy, making lazy spirals on the slick walls of Victoria's sex channel as she worked them further up. "You're sopping, aren't you? You're seriously not getting enough attention down here. Fingers and toys can only do so much, right?"
Victoria sighed. Her hips moved in little circles as if of their own accord, welcoming the intimate probing.
"So, what do you think about these days when you get yourself off? Or maybe I should ask who do you think about?" Iris taunted. "You missing that big lug Barry? You don't have much staff around this place to fuel your fantasies. Certainly not anyone who would have lit your fire in the old days. No neighbors close by. You and Kyle are pretty much alone here..."
Victoria moaned aloud at her son's name.
"You're squirting!" Iris said gleefully. "Kyle?" she repeated, stroking her sister's G-spot. Victoria closed her eyes tightly and gripped the cushion beneath her as the room spun dizzily.
"It's Kyle! I knew it! Tell me you two are doing it. Tell me that you're fucking your own son!"
"No! I would never--why would you even say that? What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing's wrong with me, Sweetie." Iris kissed Victoria's thigh, inches from her mound. "Mmm, you're dripping all over my hand. Talking about fucking Kyle warms you up good."
"Iris!"
"Tell me about his cock."
"I'm not fucking Kyle!"
"But you have seen his cock? Oh of course you have, you must have! Does your son have a big cock, Sis?"
"Jesus--stop talking like this!"
"Why, when it's making you cream like crazy? You got worked up quicker than I've ever seen you. What do you dream about doing with Kyle, Sweetie? What if I was Kyle, what would you do with me? You can tell me. We can play. We've always shared our little daydreams. Our fantasies. At least, we used to."
"I can't think about such things," Victoria insisted. "I feel ashamed about so much. What we're doing now...even after all we've been to each other in the past, if you hadn't made the first move I'd never have dared. I'm not as--as free as you are."
"You could be. And you should! You need fucking, Sis, and you deserve it. You ought to have at least one young stud with a big dick at your beck and call, to service you whenever you like.
"But since there are none around at the moment, I guess I better take care of your pussy or before you know it you'll be begging dear young Kyle for a fuck."
"Please..." Victoria whimpered, but Iris eased her head between her thighs and sealed her lips around Victoria's pussy. Victoria shivered helplessly as Iris kissed her slit.
Iris watched her sister's face through hooded, lustful eyes, her long silky hair fanning out over Victoria's legs as she lapped up and down the length of her puffy pussy lips. Victoria knew that she should put a stop to this. She should get up and get dressed and flee back to the big empty house on the hill while she still could. Before she fell completely under Iris's seductive spell once more.
But It was already too late. Victoria's heart pounded in her chest. She clenched her thighs around Iris's head, pushing her hips forward to shove them more tightly against her face.
"Your clitty's hard," Iris whispered. "All big and stiff, like a little prick. You know how I love to suck pricks. I'm gonna slide my tongue around your clit, and lick it and I'm gonna make you cum hard the way I always did. Would you like that?"
"Ohhh..." Victoria moaned. She struggled to find some tiny spark of resistance, to summon up the strength to say "No."
"What do you want?" Iris taunted.
"I...Oh, suck me, Iris! Make me cum!"
"Sweet, sweet Vicky. Here goes..."
Victoria wailed as the tip of her sister's tongue wetly batted at the quivering, straining nubbin of her clit. Hot juice spilled from between her sex lips, and her inner muscles contracted as if clutching at a phantom cock. She surrendered to the surging tide of ecstasy that Iris coaxed so expertly and effortlessly from her unresisting body. When Iris finally sucked Victoria's clit into her mouth and bit it gently, the redhead climaxed with a scream that she feared would bring their sons running down from the manor.
Iris pulled her face from Victoria's snatch and sat back on her heels, licking cunt juice from her lips. "That didn't take long at all," she purred. "You must really be deprived. You're on a hair trigger."
Victoria lifted her head dizzily. Her slacks were slung over the sofa's back. She reached for them, but Iris pushed her back down onto the cushion.
"Oh, no you don't. You need more attention than one little pussy-licking, Sis. You need as much fucking and sucking as you can get. I'm here to see that you get all you can handle starting right now." Pulling her phone from her jeans pocket, Iris rapidly tapped out a message on the screen and tucked it away again.
"Who are you calling?"
"Don't you fret about it." Before Victoria knew it, Iris had shimmied out of her jeans and panties. Then she was between Victoria's legs again, lapping up and down her fuck-hole, fingering her clit. Victoria could do nothing but clutch her sister's head and open her legs wider, completely exposing herself to whatever Iris wanted to do. Iris finger-fucked her, slowly at first and then faster and harder, pumping her pussy while sucking her clit.
Victoria whimpered with joy as another climax built inside her and screamed when she came on her sister's mouth once again.
"You're up, man," Greg said, setting the bar back onto its hook on the squat rack and ducking out of the way to make room for Kyle. "You want me to throw a couple more plates on there for you?"
Kyle laughed. "Yeah, right. You made your point. You got me by at least fifty pounds."
The Stones' home gym featured as much equipment as the training room at Greg's college. There were plenty of free weights as well as compound machines. At one end of the cavernous, mirror-lined space hung a ten-foot-tall black and white poster of a young Barry Stone on the fifty-yard line, in full gear, his helmet tucked under his arm. Someone had thrown a towel over the top edge of the frame, covering his face.
"Been there as long as I can remember," Kyle had told Greg.
"The picture or the towel?"
"Both. Mom had the poster made for Dad's birthday ages ago. The towel was his contribution, I think because he didn't like looking back at the past or something. He's never been into that 'glory days' shit, you 'know?"
"Still, must be nice to have the memories."
Kyle clapped Greg on the back. "Hey, I know it sucks, being a freshman starter and then having to leave school like this. But I've seen you. You got the skills to make the squad wherever you wind up after this all shakes out." He glanced at the overloaded squat bar. "And you've sure got the power."
"You seen me play?"
"I've seen some of your runs on Instagram." Seeing Greg's puzzled expression, he explained, "You don't know you already got chicks stanning you all over the place? They post your, uh, highlights."
"Huh. What about that?" Petty as Greg knew that it was, he'd been prepared to dislike his cousin before even meeting him. Kyle had everything, after all, while Greg and his mom were only poor relations now. But not only was Kyle an easygoing and genuine guy, the truth was that Greg simply wasn't built for resentment or self-pity. Life had dealt him a decent hand where health and talent were concerned. His problems right now were of his own making. And his mother was such an incredible piece of ass that the worst of this mess was worth going through to have the chance to keep on fucking her.
Greg's phone rang. It was a text from Iris. "Mom wants me back at the cottage," he told Kyle. "Probably can't find one of the boxes. Not that we had much to pack. I'll be back in a few."
"Cool," Kyle said and went on stripping plates from the weight bar.
Greg hurried down the hill to the guest house. The front door of the guest house and the situation looked promising, with women's underclothes strewn on the furniture in the foyer. His mother's throaty laughter echoed from the back of the house, answered by another woman's sighs.
He slipped off his sneakers and stealthily followed the lewd sounds down the hallway and straight to the closest bedroom. The door was slightly ajar. He quietly opened it wide enough to peek inside.
His mother and another woman were lying naked on their sides on the bed, eating each other out. The other woman was facing away from the door, but Greg recognized Victoria's flowing red hair and the tight little model's butt that he'd ogled at every opportunity since he and Mom had arrived this morning. This was his first chance to see that luscious, round ass naked, and he sprang an instant hard-on.
One of Victoria's legs was lifted and cocked to offer Iris easier access to her cunt. From the blissful look on his mother's face as she sucked her sister's slit, Aunt Vicky must have a talented tongue as well as a tasty pussy.
Iris peered out from between her sister's legs to see Greg in the doorway. She crooked a finger and winked, beckoning him forward. He stripped off his jeans and crept silently to the edge of the bed, looking down on his aunt from behind. He could see her famous, finely sculpted profile nestled against his mother's crotch, her moist, pink tongue lapping Mom's slit. Iris rested a hand on Victoria's cheek, preventing her from lifting it or turning her face to spot Greg.
"You haven't forgotten a trick, Sis," Iris murmured, stroking her sister's long hair. "Atta girl, tickle me up in that spot I taught you, and I'll give you another drink of cream..."
Victoria mewled happily, so deeply absorbed in her delicious task that even when Greg rested a knee on the edge of the mattress she remained oblivious to his presence.
That changed in an eye blink when he slid into bed and snuggled up behind his aunt. He wrapped his strong arms around her waist and pressed the full length of his hard cock against the small of her back.
"Oh my God! Victoria shouted. She jerked free of Iris, snatched up the bed sheet, and scrambled away to the other end of the bed where she covered herself and hunkered against the antique, carved headboard.
"What the hell? Iris, what the fuck is going on?"
"Calm down, Sis." Iris sat up next to Greg and patted his thigh. "Remember what I said, before? You need a proper fucking by a real stud. And I happened to know where there was one close by." She took hold of Greg's cock and stroked it. His prick throbbed and surged higher. "Think this one will do?"
"Jesus, Iris, he's your son!" Victoria couldn't tear her eyes away from Greg's cock, and the familiar way that her sister handled it.
"Sure is," Iris said breezily. "And he's a great fuck. I can attest to that." She tipped her head back, lips parted. "Give Mama a big kiss."
Greg kissed his mother passionately, fondling her tits and watching his aunt from the corner of his eye all the while. Mom had told him that she had a plan for them, and this must be part of it. There was no mistaking the fascination that lay beneath Victoria's shocked reaction to the sight of a mother and son engaging in foreplay. To Greg's mind, this could only work out to his benefit. He was more than happy to go on following his mother's lead.
"Is this why you were so excited about me wanting to fuck Kyle?" Victoria demanded.
"Ah, you admit it?"
"NO! I most certainly do not! Christ, no wonder George lost his shit."
Iris didn't answer. Her hand wandered down to play with her son's balls. "Take a good look, Vicky. And ask yourself, how is what Greg and I are doing now so different from what you and I have been doing?"
"It's...it just is," Victoria muttered. "I can't say exactly how, but it is."
"Okay, well, while you work it out for yourself, I'm going to suck my son's cock." Leaning forward carefully so as not to block her sister's view, Iris extended her tongue and slowly licked the underside of Greg's prick from the root to the head. "Come on, Sis. Have a taste."
"I-I can't," Victoria stammered. "I'm a married woman! It wouldn't be fair to Barry."
"Barry? For the love of God, woman, Barry is the problem. He leaves you alone here for weeks and months on end while he roams around getting his dick wet with God knows who."
"He wouldn't!" Victoria exclaimed, so naively stricken by the notion of her husband's infidelity that Greg felt sorry for her. Mom was a master at getting what she wanted from people, but even he recoiled sometimes at her take-no-prisoners tactics.
"Convince yourself." Iris swallowed the knob of Greg's cock and sucked him, making a show of greedily slurping and moaning with pleasure. Victoria watched raptly, so absorbed after a while that she forgot her modesty and let the sheet slip down and fall around her waist to reveal her huge, perfectly-shaped breasts. She might not be naturally gifted in that department like Mom, but the doctors had done a great job on her. Much better than any of Iris's girlfriends. He looked forward to sliding his dick up between those funbags for a long tit-fuck.
"You're beautiful, Aunt Vicky," he said in as innocent a tone as he could manage. "I'd sure like to fuck you."
Victoria's internal struggle played out on her face. "I don't know..." she wavered. Her fingers strayed down beneath the sheet still draped over her legs. She bit her lip, playing with herself under the covers.
Making her decision, Victoria crawled across the mattress to crouch in front of her nephew, side by side with her sister.
"Here, Sweetie." Iris ceased her motherly suck-job and offered Greg's cock to her sister, who caressed it curiously. Spasms of pleasure rippled along his shaft as he felt her nimble fingers play along his shaft. Aunt Vicky might be on the shy side but she had the sure touch of a sexually experienced woman.
When she leaned forward he got his closest look yet at her big, firm tits. She squeezed the base of his cock gently and darted her tongue out to swipe across the bulbous, drooling knob. At her first taste of his pre-cum a shiver ran down the muscles of her slender shoulders and back.
Victoria wriggled her ass in a spontaneous gesture of invitation. Her body yearned for cock, and she had no reason to worry on that score; her nephew was determined to give her all the fucking she could take this afternoon.
Iris nibbled at Greg's ear. "Play with your aunt's tits," she whispered, patting his ass cheeks. "I charged her up good for you. Now you make her go crazy."
Victoria's big, soft breasts felt as natural as his mother's when Greg hefted and rolled them in his broad hands. He teased and tweaked the sensitive buds of her dark pink nipples, stretching and tugging the elastic flesh. Suddenly she opened her mouth wide and swallowed his whole cock-head at once. He didn't expect that. He was so big that not too many chicks could do that, and none so easily as his aunt.
Victoria moved her head back slightly until only the tip of his glans was between her lips, nursing gently at his cum-slit as if it were a drinking straw, drawing out more beads of pre-cum. At the same time, she took his heavy balls in one hand, massaging them as she pushed her head forward until her nose pressed against the wiry hair of his belly. She pulled back and pushed forward yet again, bobbing in and out, taking his whole long, thick cock down her throat like a sword-swallower.
The cool, reserved beauty who'd greeted Greg and Iris on the marble steps of Stone Manor that morning had disappeared, utterly transformed by her sister's seductive wiles and by her primeval urge to rut with a powerful, virile young stud half her age who happened to be her own flesh and blood.
Beneath the designer clothes, expensive coiffure, and camera-ready model's poise, Greg saw that Aunt Vicky was one flesh with his cock-craving whore of a mother.
And if Aunt Vicky truly was like Mom, it stood to reason that an occasional dicking by her nephew would never satisfy her for long. No, she'd want son-cock, and soon.
Once she'd shattered that taboo and embraced her true nature, then anything was possible. Greg looked forward to putting his incestuous aunt through her paces in as many ways as they both could think of, for as long as he and his mother managed to stay on here.
He lay down beside Victoria. Sucking one of her nipples into his mouth, he dropped his hand down between her thighs, finding and stroking her clit. Victoria groped at his saliva-slickened prick, tugging him toward her.
"Stick this big thing in me before I come to my senses," she gasped.
"I'd call this coming to your senses," Iris replied. She was sitting on a corner of the bed with one leg dangling over the edge and the other tucked up under her ass, pumping two fingers into her cunt. "This is the Vicky I remember."
Greg rolled over on top of his aunt. She lifted her legs and opened them wide, toes pointed at the ceiling. He nestled the tip of his cock between her pussy lips and pressed forward until his cock-head was halfway into her cunt--and stopped. He withdrew, leaving her open cunt empty.
"Put it in," she hissed, staring anxiously into his eyes.
"Uh-uh. I'm gonna play for a while," he taunted, sliding his cock back into her. As the first inches entered she clamped her inner muscles around his cock-head, desperate to hold him inside. He easily pulled out again, leaving her panting in frustration.
"Fuck me! Fuck me!' Victoria squirmed on the bed, digging her ass into the mattress and kicking her legs wildly. Greg kept on working his cock in and out of her quivering slit while continuing to patiently massage her clit.
"Show your aunt some respect." Iris covered her mouth with one hand, stifling a giggle. "Give her your nice cock."
"Don't be such a nag, Mother."
"FUCK MEEEEE!" Victoria screamed.
"You got it, babe." Greg bucked his hips forward and plunged deep into his aunt's overheated cunt. No need to go slow with this one. She was built for big cocks. She wanted it all and she wanted it now.
"Awwh...OH! OH OH OHHHH!" Victoria moaned uncontrollably as her nephew took her with thrust after powerful thrust. His cum-filled balls bounced against her mound as he drilled her deep with every stroke. She arched and hurled herself against him with the frenzy of a woman discovering an oasis after wandering the desert, desperate to drink all the water at once for fear that it would dissolve into a mirage.
"Goddamn, you'll tear my dick off, Aunt Vicky!" Greg paused, bracing himself on his forearms and gulping air.
"Don't stop!' she shouted, grabbing his shoulders and yanking him down to kiss him. "Can't stop! Never!" Her cunt was hot as a furnace and gripped his prick like an oiled fist. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close as their hips crashed and ground and gyrated as one.
"Since you two have hit it off so well, you won't miss me while I run a little errand? I'll be back in a jiff." Victoria stared vacantly after Iris as she rolled out of bed and left the room.
"W-where is she going?"
"Who cares?" Greg pulled entirely out of his lust-maddened aunt, loving the frantic way she humped upward to try to recapture his cock. He drove back into her and felt the contractions running in waves along her inner walls as she came.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck...Victoria chanted mindlessly. She reached down between them and grabbed Greg's ball sack. The soft pressure of her fingers pushed him to the edge so suddenly that he couldn't hold back. The cum boiled up in his balls and he came, blasting stream after stream of jism into her greedy cunt.
Greg collapsed, exhausted.
"Are you all right?"
"I'm good," he wheezed. "Lemme catch my breath."
"Oh, Greg, honey, I don't know what came over me. But it was wonderful." Victoria kissed him on the forehead. "You were wonderful."
He gave her a lopsided grin. "You too, Aunt Vicky. But we ain't done, not by a longshot."
"What do you mean?" Victoria propped herself up on her elbows. "I...I must have been really pent up, even more than I realized, to do--to do what we did."
"Fucking. You could say it when we were doing it," Greg chuckled.
"Yes. Fucking. " Victoria looked down at her lap and, to Greg's surprise, blushed. "Your mother instigated it, of course she did. She's always had this, I don't know how to say it, this power. She makes me want to do crazy things."
"They're fun things, though," Greg agreed. He took Victoria's chin in his hand and turned her face to his. "I'm pretty sure that Mom went off to buy us more time alone. I think we oughta use it."
"We ought to..." Her voice trailed off softly. "I don't think that's a good idea. I couldn't."
"Well, I sure as hell could." Greg guided his aunt's hand to his cock, which was already stiffening again as he looked forward to another round. "Come on, babe, let's not waste it."
Victoria looked at him for a long time before almost imperceptibly lifting and lowering her chin in a shy nod.
An hour later, Greg was on his back with Victoria on top of him, her huge tits bouncing on her narrow ribcage as she rode him, tirelessly pumping her ass to drive her pussy onto his iron-hard cock. He held tightly onto her lithe hips, lying still on the mattress and relishing the buttery friction of her clasping cunt as that hot channel slithered up and down his pole.
"Fuck me back, Greg!" she begged, her fiery hair whipping wildly over her face as she humped feverishly against him. "Fuck my pussy, fuck it as hard as you want!"
"You wore me out on that last one," Greg laughed. So far that afternoon he'd enjoyed having his luscious redheaded aunt's pert ass cheeks twerk against him while he took her from behind, shared a long mutual suck-off, and then another missionary fuck before she'd mounted him.
Greg wanted to rest and recharge for a few minutes while he decided how he wanted this wanton slut next.
A guy could get used to this life real quick. In the lap of wealth and luxury, having his beautiful mom and aunt naked and available whenever he wanted them to fuck and suck? Hell, yeah!
Sooner or later he'd have to share, of course.
That was fine with him. Greg was nothing if not a team player.
####
Kyle was flat on his back, benching two hundred pounds when Aunt Iris appeared in the gym doorway. "Shouldn't you have a spotter?"
"Had one," Kyle grunted, setting the bar back onto its rests and sitting up. "I thought he was with you."
"I gave him a little project to keep him busy, helping your mom with something." Iris was dressed for exercise, in a gray heather tank top and red shorts. But the shorts barely covered her bubble butt cheeks and were so tight that they looked like she'd split a seam just bending over. She strolled over and kissed him on one cheek. "I wanted to spend some time getting to know my only nephew better."
"I'm all sweaty." He reached for his towel, awkwardly aware of how little he was wearing himself. He'd discarded his tee shirt and was clad only in training shoes and black compression shorts.
"I'm used to it, kiddo. Greg's life is ninety percent training since the season started. Pumping and sweating all the time." Iris laughed, took the towel from Kyle, and mopped his face. "Thing is, I like it. Sometimes I work out with him. Sometimes I watch."
Kyle couldn't tell whether it was his aunt's touch, the scent of her perfume, or simply her nearness that triggered his erection. He hunched forward and hoped that she wouldn't notice. Damn it, what was wrong with him anyway? He'd spent the last couple of days avoiding his mother as much as possible, filling his far-too-many free hours with all sorts of physical activity--running, swimming, working out, anything to distract him from intrusive thoughts of his morning with Mom in the Jacuzzi. Yet he could not exhaust himself sufficiently to rest without remembering and springing an immediate hard-on.
It was normal enough for a healthy guy his age to be horny and to have sex on his mind. He'd thought he knew what to do about that, even if there were rarely suitable partners to be found out here in this untrackable coastal wilderness of celebrity hermits. But whatever had made Mom behave that way had unleashed some ferocious, lusting animal that he'd never suspected that his soul harbored. No amount of whacking off, day and night, was enough to lull or force it back into its cage.
Iris and Greg's arrival had helped not at all.
Kyle hadn't seen his aunt in person for fifteen years. He had no clear memory of her, only a few pictures that Victoria kept on display around the house: old shots of herself and a short young blonde whose smiling face matched Victoria's like a twin's.
But while Victoria Stone was beautiful in the spare, elegant way that so many fashion models were, the babe who'd stepped from the overloaded old station wagon this morning was a bombshell whose every curve and gesture radiated sensuality...and availability.
And she was his goddamn aunt! What now? He was afraid that before the week was out he'd be slamming doors shut on his dick to get it to stay soft around the two matriarchs of the clan.
"You and Greg are both such athletic young men," Iris said, straddling the weight bench to face Kyle. She touched his arm. "And when you're all pumped like this you look like bronze statues. You know the ones I mean, like in museums?"