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Message-ID: <31896asstr$997175401@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Phil Phantom <pp@philphantom.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Mother Laid Bare
Date: Tue,  7 Aug 2001 05:10:01 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d





<1st attachment, "mother-laid-bare-pp.txt" begin>

                         Mother Laid Bare
                         By: Phil Phantom
               HTTP://www.PhilPhantom.Com

Carla could not have been more nervous had the man seated at the
family dinner table been the Pope on dope instead of the boss on
booze. Her husband was just as nervous, but the three kids
enjoyed having the tipsy Mr. Arnold at the family dinner table.
He was neat, told dirty jokes, off-color stories, and made their
mom nervous by frequently touching her leg way up - stroking her
leg, too, right up to her pussy. And it was neat that their dad
couldn't say anything, and just kept smiling like a brown noser
who wouldn't say shit if his boss laid her on the table and
fucked her without a rubber on. Their mom was just as bad and
didn't look like she'd resist, or ask him to put one on, or to
pull out when he came, though the last thing she needed was
another bastard baby or two - maybe triplets this time.

The carrot-topped, freckle-faced, ten-year-old twins were
obviously not Frank's. Of course, Mr. Arnold made a big ta-do
about that, bringing up a very sore subject that no one ever
talked about. He casually and thoughtlessly brought a very
embarrassing and delicate subject out in the open which the kids
thought was really neat - the twin bastards especially. They
finally learned who their daddy was and how that adulterous
conception came to be. Daddy was a priest who heard a confession
that turned him on. They then heard the shocking confession that
turned him on. Mr. Arnold insisted she make a full confession.
For once, their mom was redder than they were.

Mr. Arnold sat between Carla and fourteen-year-old Mandy along
one side of a large dining table, allowing sixteen-year-old Mark
to sit in his mother's usual place at the end opposite the dad's
seat at the head of the table. The twelve-year-old twins, John
and Levi, sat across from Mr. Arnold, their mom, and Mandy. They
kept dipping their heads to see the hand action. Mandy got plenty
of that hand action, too, but she didn't look nervous.
Appearances suggested that she sorta liked that manly touch to a
place she had been instructed to report. At least, she enjoyed
the fact that he could do that and get away with it and her
parents hoped she wouldn't report anything - or take this
parentally sanctioned child abuse to the confessional.

Carla, by contrast, sat stiff and up-tight with her legs
together. Carla did her best to convey her displeasure with body
language, but no one told Mandy to, and her mom couldn't even
pass her a dirty look that said to close the legs and sit like a
lady. Her father could when Mr. Arnold looked the other way, but
he never did, even if Mr. Arnold's hand was right in the crotch,
cupping pussy, squeezing pussy. Mr. Arnold used his hands to
talk, but always returned them to laps, there to slip up to
pussy. In Mandy's case, that was easy, but with Carla he could
only ride along the top of a thigh and had to insinuate a stiff
finger to get in the groove between clenched thighs. They both
had their skirts bunched in their laps with their panties
showing, which the twins thought was really neat. Seeing panties
was a big deal to them. Carla continually admonished them to stop
looking under the table and eat, but she eventually gave up.

Mark and Mandy didn't need to dip. They could lean and kept
checking that action going on in their mother's crotch as she
fought a losing battle to keep Mr. Arnold's fingers out. Her clit
received a workout which loosened her over time. Before they were
finished with the main course, he could cup her crotch. Mr.
Arnold worked on Carla above and below the table. He played with
her pussy while dragging out intimate details of her sexual
history, and would challenge her if he thought she held back or
lied. Carla soon came to believe that he knew the answers before
asking the questions. She grew tired of being caught in a lie and
became a teller of truths. That was when the questions bore into
her intimate zones like an auger from Hell. After recounting the
humiliating confession, and how that ended up in unprotected sex,
her will to resist faded to a will to endure.

Carla had never experienced anything like this in her life. She
had been stripped naked by a man, but not bared to the soul. She
had no idea Mr. Arnold was like this or could do this to a good
Christian mother. How could anyone behave that way as a guest in
someone else's home. His words and his actions were unspeakably
cruel to any woman with any sense of decency or modesty, and
Carla had both in abundance. At least she did until he sat down
and began peeling them away like layers of an onion. The process
even brought tears to her eyes, but that fact only drove him on.

He wasn't drunk, just loose, and his pop-in visit was anything
but spur-of-the-moment. Carla sat beside a man with a plan that
he needed a few beers to launch. His desire had always been
obvious, and Carla knew a day would come when he'd launch some
sort of plan. There were times she looked forward to doing some
serious brown nosing. One man simply wasn't enough for her. Mr.
Arnold was a demanding boss; perhaps, he'd be a demanding lover.
When Carla thought about serving as a mistress, she thought about
serving a demanding lover - preferably a kinky hung one - not too
kinky, but plenty hung. Mr. Arnold struck her as not too kinky,
not bad looking, plenty hung, and he now had a plan, but why a
public plan, and why must that public be her husband and
children. Carla had a screaming desire to take Mr. Arnold off
somewhere and go, "Are you nuts? Look, I'd love to serve as your
mistress, but could we do it right and secretly cheat like normal
people?"

Carla had no idea Frank would silently sit through this launched
plan of public seduction, or that the kids would enjoy watching a
lewd seduction so much. There was no doubt about that, and Mandy
thoroughly enjoyed what she had to put up with. Carla kept
looking over to see what Mandy had to endure, just as Mandy kept
looking over to see what her mom had to endure. No one was sure
which one he was after or that he wasn't out to get both.
Everyone kept an eye on the two crotches being expertly
manipulated. Mr. Arnold had a seasoned touch that any normal
pussy had to warm to. They both had wet crotche panties, and
pussy flesh could be seen through them when the hands came out to
gesticulate. At those times, the impulse to close the legs was
strong in Carla's case, but would be pointless. She would rather
leave them open than open them each time his hand came down,
though she wasn't sure what difference that made. Both were
inappropriate responses for a good Catholic wife and mother at
the dinner table.

Carla couldn't help but wonder where this was leading, what his
intentions were, and where could she or would she draw the line
if Frank didn't. Mr. Arnold kept getting nastier and nastier.
Once content to simply massage pussy, he now masturbated pussy,
and was a pro at working the clit. He certainly impressed Mandy.
When he did her clit, all she could do was sit back and watch
with her legs obscenely wide as though fascinated with the things
he could do to a girl's clit. Carla, on the other hand, tried to
keep eating as though the clit action weren't driving her mad.
Fortunately, he worked his magic over panties and not under them,
but then he wormed his fingers under them and Carla had to set
her fork down and gulp.

Carla was spared an embarrassing orgasm because Mr. Arnold needed
to gesticulate. While he gestured, Carla caught Frank's eye and
silently begged, "Frank! Do something!" Frank's helpless,
kiss-ass response told her that she was on her own, that he
couldn't and wouldn't draw any lines, not even with Mandy. Carla
half expected that response and felt no inclination to save
Mandy. That girl deserved to get screwed, needed to get screwed,
but the same could be said for her mother. When the hand
returned, it slipped in the panties from the top and was welcome,
the whole hand right in the crotch. Carla glanced over to see if
Mandy was getting the same treatment and saw that she had somehow
gotten rid of her panties.

Carla couldn't imagine how Mandy managed that without attracting
attention until she noticed that the bastards had stopped doing
head dips and had slipped under the table. That would explain the
mystery. They would want those panties. Mandy would only have to
slightly lift her ass. Carla wondered if they would dare attempt
to remove her panties, and if so, would she dare lift. She hardly
had time to form the thought when little hands went up both
sides, grabbed polyester and tugged. The nerve! Carla placed her
hands on the outside edges of the seat and slightly lifted. The
nerve! Her panties slid down her legs and off her feet. Freed of
panties, little hands pried out on her knees and she went with
the pressure. The audacity! The vulgarity! Tha wantonness! Oh,
the joy of sex at the dinner table!

Now, she felt nasty and was doing something worse than that dumb
story she made up to turn on a priest. Obviously, her sons didn't
believe her story was a made-up story. They thought she really
was a nymphomaniac, at least a cheating slut. Then again, they'd
have to think that every time they comb their hair.

The horny little bastards were bold, and when Mr. Arnold went to
use both hands to describe something or other to an audience of
two, of which only half paid attention, he left two beavers wide
open. Levi sat before Mandy's; John sat before Carla's; both
reached at the same time. Oddly, Mandy intercepted her nasty boy,
whereas John got through and went in to the wrist because Carla
was trying to convey a message to Mark who sat just to her left
with an excellent view of the assault.

To say that John got his mother's attention is the mother of all
understatements. Her immediate reaction was to yank his fucking
hand out and slap his impudent face, but he had made a fist.
Yanking hurt. She didn't want to draw attention, so she didn't
slap. Thinking silence was golden, the little mother fucker began
fist fucking the slut.

Carla felt fucked and settled back in frustration, resigned to
endure an offspring fist fucking. Fist fucking was what she told
the priest she had encouraged her three-year-old son to do. Mark
had no memory but didn't doubt it, though she stated several
times that she made the whole thing up because she was bored, the
priest looked bored, she didn't think he'd try anything, or that
she'd go along if he did, and that she didn't know that the time
was bad to fuck without a condom. Hell, they all thought she was
a nympho anyway.  Lie back and enjoy it was what a nympho into
fist fucking would do - so, she did.

When Mr. Arnold saw what was going on, he praised the boy and
patted the pussy. Since Levi wasn't getting anywhere with Mandy,
but John had made a score, Levi joined John. They were soon
kneeling side-by-side in the fan of their mother's legs, taking
turns while Mr. Arnold divested their mother of her clothing.
They had all seen their curvacious mom in bra and panties, not
often, never nude, so this was a real treat. All were eager to
see her bullet tits and were curious about her nipples. The
creamy-white tits were superb, but the long, rubbery, light-pink
nipples stole the show. Once naked, he placed her feet wide apart
on the edge of the table and pressed her knees down, offering a
gynecological spread for the twins to operate in.

She now felt vulgar and decadent, but being fist fucked by a son
was everything she imagined, only more decadent than she
imagined, because in her wildest imaginings, she never imagined a
nude scene at the dinner table with a house guest present. It
didn't take Carla long to appreciate that Mr. Arnold's way was
better and two ten-year-old sons were better than one three year
old.

Her bastards had perfect fists and their arms to the elbow were
perfect fits. They also knew how to mimic the action of a hung
cock fucking a pussy that liked them big. The boys went easy,
trying not to hurt her while giving her long, deep strokes that
took all the wrinkles out of her twat. They never tried to enter
or exit with a closed fist, and they continually came and went,
being good about taking turns while the other toyed with the
clit, tits, and asshole, making Carla wonder if those little
mother fuckers had been coached. The only person who could have
coached them so well sat at the head of the table looking
innocent.

Carla could not believe that Frank would be a party to this
decadence until a slimy hand forced entry into her ass and made a
fist. She now had two big arm/cocks fist-fucking her and felt
like a Christmas goose. Had she been strapped down, bound and
gagged in a daycare center, she would be living out her favorite
fantasy. She now knew, looked to Frank, and said with very
expressive eyes, "You fucking bastard! WHY?"

The fucking bastard continued to act innocent while his wife fell
in-love with limbs.

Now that he had the mother effectively neutralized, Mr. Arnold
turned his attention to Mandy and disrobed her. She balked at
being stripped naked until her Daddy helped. Now, Carla knew why.
After stripping the sexy child, they laid her on the table. Mr.
Arnold fished out his dick and slowly worked that
Polish-sausage-size schlong up her hot-dog-size pussy. She was a
virgin for a while, but Daddy held her hand and massaged her
perky titties until she wasn't. After Mr. Arnold pumped her full
of cum, Daddy pumped her too full. The little slut was in slut
heaven, awed that the men took little thought about cumming
inside her pussy. No one asked where she was on her fertility
cycle, they just fucked her and deposited their seed into her as
though it didn't matter.

Mandy wasn't all that surprised that Mr. Arnold would do that,
but was sure her father would pull out in time and cum on her
tummy, maybe try to hit her tits, maybe even her face. She
enjoyed his fucking more than the fucking she got from the bigger
cock. With Daddy, she received pleasure without the pain. She
couldn't wait to see him cum and was up on her elbows, not
wanting to miss the sight of a dick squirting semen, but she
missed that sight. At the right time, he took her firmly by the
hips and added insult to injury. Carla wasn't at all surprised.

Carla had a good view as this devirginizing took place on the
table directly in front of Mr. Arnold's seat. Carla could see the
dicks moving in the tight pussy, and see all the sperm being
squished out. With two fists up her body, working together in
magnificent harmony, better than she ever fantasized a double
fist fucking, Carla was in no mood to raise an objection. In
fact, the twins kept her teetering at the brink throughout most
of Mandy's ordeal. Even after the men finished with the girl, the
boys weren't finished with the mom, and Mandy's double
deflowering took over thirty minutes. They left her soiled and
speechless.

Carla didn't want to climax. Teetering at the brink was a
delicious sensation, and when she had everyone's attention again,
she experienced delicious decadence. Her bastard boys were fist
fucking her like the slut they were sure she was, and Carla felt
no inclination to set them straight, now glad that she hadn't
gotten her message to Mark, the message being that she honestly
made the story up and never really used him for sex.

After being exposed for the cheating slut she was, Carla felt
very badly, but only Mark made her feel that way. The twins had
always treated her like a whore, only they were careful not to
actually say the word. Mandy was a whore, only she had never gone
all the way, or charged much for going part way. As for Frank, he
had been an accomplice in Carla's adultery, helped with the
story, practically pushed her into the confessional, and when she
turned up pregnant, insisted she bear the bastard (bastards as it
turned out). Being a good Catholic, she had every intention of
bearing the bastards, but wanted to see how Frank really felt.
She found out that bearing bastards made his dick as hard as
making them. This was just one more step on the dirty road to the
family life that Frank wanted and Carla was sure he'd never get.
Step by step, however, she traveled down that dirty road, like it
or not.

Mark was the one she needed to apologize to, because not two
weeks prior, he tried to use her for sex and was sat down and
lectured for the attempt. Carla knew an attempt was coming months
before it came. Mark showed all the signs of a boy who lusted
after his own mother. Unlike the twins who wanted to use her for
their sexual amusement, sell her for profit, or humiliate her for
shits and giggles, Mark wanted to make love. Carla's fear was
that he might actually be in-love. If Mandy was a Daddy's girl,
which she was, Mark was a Momma's boy. He loved her dearly,
adored her, couldn't do enough for her, and hated those
red-headed bastards because they would not give her the respect
she deserved, plus their mere presense called her a cheating
slut. Mark was sure she had been raped by an Irishman. The
bastards were equally sure that she fucked Father Pat every
chance she got. They refused to call him Father Pat; they called
him Daddy Patty. Mark hated that. No way would his mom fuck a
priest.

Mark found out differently and his world had been terribly
shaken. What followed totally destroyed the foundations. He saw
for himself what a slut she really was, and had no doubt that she
had once used him for sex. He watched his brothers fisting her
cunt and wanted a turn, only he'd hurt the hypocritical slut.
Carla could see this in his eyes as he watched his brothers, but
he had every right to feel that way. They would have to have
another talk, but no way would he get a turn until they did have
a talk.

With everyone looking on, Carla slumped in her chair in the
vulgar sprawl and allowed the boys to amuse themselves. Mandy
watched from the table, now up on stiff arms to see into her
mother's crotch. Mandy's legs were still wide apart where Mr.
Arnold set them as though she needed to air-out the snatch. Truth
was, she just liked having that vulgar beaver out where everyone
could see it. The girl seemed very proud of her fucked pussy. She
was now a woman, and like her mom, a slut. Carla made a mental
note to have a talk with her as well.

Carla now wanted her orgasm and wanted to wrap this mini orgy up.
Maybe Mr. Arnold would leave and they could have a family
meeting, although she wasn't sure what she'd say at the meeting.
She did know what to think about - Mark's seduction attempt. For
the past two weeks, thinking about that brought on orgasms, and
not a day went by that she didn't regret doing the right thing.
Truth was, she wanted it as bad if not more than he did and saw
nothing wrong with a mother and son having recreational sex. A
mother and son making love was wrong, but maybe he just wanted to
knock off a piece of ass, screw a bitch, hump the mother, fuck
the old lady. Carla saw nothing wrong with that. Boys will be
boys. The twins were boys, typical boys, and they were proving
that once again - very well.

Carla's mind reflected back two weeks to the pool deck, the
lounger she had reclined on, and the son who offered to apply the
sun tan oil. Carla sensed that this was it, that her new bikini
was simply too much for him. She didn't buy a skimpy bikini to
tease Mark; she bought it to tan more skin; at least, she kept
telling herself that. Poor Mark. That itty bitty bikini was his
undoing. Almost as though taking pity, Carla handed him the
bottle, then settled back with her eyes closed. She received a
very thorough oiling, ten minutes on the front. She had oil right
up to the nipples and some pubic hairs got oiled. In fact, every
bit of tittie flesh had been thoroughly oiled and the oil
massaged in. He avoided going over the nipples, but even they got
some oil. Only the tips were dry - the left one, anyway. When he
did the legs, his hands bravely massaged oil right up the crotch
of the bikini.

Carla thoroughly enjoyed the massage, for that was what it was, a
good massage, and very good on the areas that a son's hands
should never stray. When his pat came to roll over, she rolled,
and the bold boy bravely delivered that pat to her mound. He was
good on the front, but he was killer on the back. He had her
purring when he slipped oily fingers inside the suit bottoms. She
ignored the many times his oily fingers drifted over her asshole.
Portions of pussy got oiled. He oiled the hell out of her inner
thigh area and stained the crotch of the suit with his oil-soaked
hands.

Carla laid with her legs a foot apart at the knee, so he had a
good deal of crotch area to rub. Between oil and sexual
lubricants, the crotch of her suit got pretty fucked up. He kept
working the crotch area, especially the clit area. Carla would
have stopped him sooner but stayed silent but golden while trying
to think of the best way to handle this situation now that he was
going for the kill and being obvious.

As much as she had thought about this day, now that the day was
upon her, she couldn't decide on the best way. While she
pondered, he moved steadily toward making her decision moot. If
she laid in golden silence much longer, she'd be under a mother
fucker trying to decide on the best way to tell him that he can't
be one.

Carla remained silent as he untied her suit bottoms and moved the
pieces out of the way. She didn't resist having her legs moved
out until they fell off the sides. She laid still while he
examined her pussy - seeing everything, feeling everything,
opening the pussy up, fingering the pussy and ass holes. She
remained totally passive until she felt the rubbery head of his
dick at her pussy hole. That's when she said, "Mark, you are
barking up the wrong tree."

Not easily dissuaded, not after getting that far and seeing how
much she really wanted it despite what she was saying, Mark ran
the head of his hard cock through her oily cunt lips, saying,
"Mom, please!"

That dick felt great on her excited clit, and thrilling when it
poked her in the hole, but Carla said, "Mark, no, we can't. This
isn't right."

Mark kept at it, especially working the clit, saying, "It feels
right to me."

He was back at the hole and had the head in as Carla said, "It
feels right to me, too, but I know better. This would break three
laws - natural law, God's law, and state law. I might break one,
sometimes, two, but never three. Mark, pull it out...MARK!"

Mark had worked his dick all the way in, but had to work his dick
all the way out. He went in easy, but coming out was a bitch.
Carla waited...and waited...and waited. Carla waited a good
fifteen minutes while Mark did everything but actually pull out.
He couldn't bring himself to actually do it, but she wouldn't let
him fuck. Whenever he got a stroke going, she'd remind him to
pull out. In this way, he managed fifteen minutes of being in his
mother, and moving, just not moving enough to qualify as a fuck.
Oddly, she didn't seem to mind that he took his sweet time, he
just couldn't go for his nut. He figured it had something to do
with her aversion to bastards.

Carla put up with his delaying tactics, then forced the issue.
After he got out, he climbed down and sat in a chair which he had
pulled up to her lounger. Carla rolled over, sat up, and swung
her legs off the side, mindless of being nude from the waist
down. He felt no need to pull his suit back on, either. After
what they had just done, a show of modesty would be foolish, but
neither had seen the other from the front. Each stared at the
other's crotch. Carla was impressed. He felt big and was - for a
boy. He looked damn good, too. She felt inclined to close her
legs, but since he made no attempt to hide his erection, she made
no attempt to hide her pussy. He was proud of what he had, but so
was she. Besides, she couldn't close her legs as her legs were
outside his.

Carla placed her hands on his knees to say, "I'm sorry, Mark, but
this just wouldn't be right. I want you to know that I am
terribly flattered that you want me sexually."

Mark smiled and said, "You should be. You are the only girl I
want sexually."

"Yes, but I'm not a girl. And to you, I'm not a woman. I'm a
mother."

"I'm sorry, Mom, but I see you as a woman, especially when you
sit like that in half of a swimsuit like that."

Carla looked at the beaver he made reference to, which should
have made her slam her legs together were that possible. She
should have placed her legs inside his, or scooted back. Instead,
she settled back on stiff arms and made a better beaver, saying,
"Mothers don't sit like this, do they?"

He smiled his naughty-boy grin and said, "They do to become a
mother."

Carla didn't know whether he meant to conceive a child or deliver
a child, but she liked that answer either way. The position was
good for either. She loved the way he stared unabashedly at her
open cunt, and was thrilled when he took his erection in hand and
began stroking. She always did love watching a guy jack off and
hadn't indulged herself since high school where she was well
known for inspiring masturbation. Carla will show her stuff if
you'll jack off for her. She smiled and said, "So, Mommy makes
you horny, huh?"

"You know you do, and you bought that bikini to drive me crazy."

"If I did, I certainly got my money's worth."

"You would have if you hadn't stopped me."

"You'd be a mother fucker if I hadn't stopped you - pardon my
French."

"I am a mother fucker. I put my dick all the way inside my
mother's pussy and even did some fucking on the way out - pardon
my French."

"So, we speak French, now, do we?"

"Now that we're fucking, we do."

"So, you think you're a mother fucker, now?"

"Yes, and I'm a proud mother fucker. Look at the mother I fucked.
I'd wear that label on a T-shirt if your picture were on it in
that bikini. A lot of guys would say, 'You lucky mother fucker. I
know they would.'"

Carla beamed and impulsively sat up and removed the top. Now
naked before her naked, masturbating son, she teased while
thrusting out her hooters the way she used to do in high school,
"Wouldn't this be better?"

Clearly, he loved her tits, but that came as no surprise. Her
proud DDs held his fascination going back to infancy. He took the
longest to wean and didn't get fully weaned until the twins came
along. Furthermore, his nursing had always been more sexual than
any of the others, and all nursing was sexual to Carla. Mark was
a tit man, no doubt about that. Now getting his first bare chest
exposure since being old enough to recall, he proved once again
that he loved his mommy's boobies. He angled his cock to chest
level, gave a few hard, fast pumps, then peppered his mother with
cum strands and cum drops. She took one long rope in the face and
one strand right in the twat, but most landed on her bullettits.

Carla wasn't expecting this seminal barrage. She had no idea that
he was that close to going off, not that she minded. She marveled
at the calm and methodical way he went about soiling her with his
seed, as though taking a piss on her. His father had nowhere near
that control, or that volume, or the courage to assume he could
get away with that. He never had because he never asked and never
assumed. Then again, had he asked, she would have said, Hell no!"
She would have said, "Hell no" to Mark, too. A man doesn't ask; a
man just does it. Carla could not have been more proud of her
little man. He did that beautifully and felt no need to make
excuses or apologize.

After the last of his discharge had been wiped on her inner
thigh, Carla surveyed the damage as calmly as he had done the
damage. When some ran over her upper lip, she licked. She looked
at her tits and into her wide beaver, made wider when his knees
pushed out from within her knees. He landed a good strand right
in the slit. While she watched, he scooped that wad and then
stuffed it up her hole. She casually watched some sperm stuffing,
then looked to Mark and said, "You have your nerve, young man."

While gathering more from her tits, he said, "That's what you get
for teasing me. I hope you get pregnant. It would serve you
right."

While watching him stuff this slop, she said, "Do you want me to
take the suit back?"

"If you'll get a skimpier one."

He had two middle fingers in deep, trying to stuff his sperm
directly into the womb as she said, "They don't make a skimpier
one."

"Then keep this one. At least this one comes off easy."

Smiling, Carla eased him out and sat forward. She once again
rested her hands on his knees. Cum from her tits was now dripping
onto his thighs. With cum in her face and dripping from her jugs,
she knew she looked dumb, vulgar, or both, but they needed to
talk - right then, right there. She said, "Mark, we can't fuck -
pardon my French."

"We already did fuck. Do you mean we can't fuck anymore?"

"In my book, we didn't, and no, we can't, and we don't speak
French after this. You know very well that we can't be doing this
sort of thing."

"Why? I had fun; you had fun; we had fun; no one will everknow."

"I know, and I know this isn't right. I'm the parent. I saw this
coming and did nothing."

"You bought the suit and handed me the oil."

"Good point. I am accepting part of the blame. You didn't do
something bad, we did. Still, we must offer confession, get right
with God, and see that this doesn't happen again."

"Mom, I don't believe in God, Jesus, the Easter Bunny, or Santa
Claus. I believe in having fun if no one gets hurt and all
parties consent."

This came as no surprise. Mark stopped going to church after a
priest sexually molested him (Not Father Pat) at the age of
twelve. His ass was still sore about that. Carla figured he would
eventually get over that and return to the pews. Carla said,
"Well, I believe in two out of those four, and I refuse to return
to the confessional with the same sin over and over again. And
son, this one is a whopper."

"Why? According to you, we didn't fuck."

"Father Patrick will see it differently, I'm sure. He'll have me
doing Rosaries until my fingers bleed."

"If you're going to do the time, you may as well do the crime."

Carla looked to his groin and noted a growing erection. Oh, the
stamina of youth. God, what a gorgeous cock. Impulsively, she
slid her hands up his sinuey thighs. With one, she took him by
the cock; the other cupped his balls. Life surged into the cock
as her fingers closed around the silky shaft, still wet from her
pussy juices. He sat back, giving over his cock to a mother who
now showed interest, or saw the logic of his argument. He also
noted the almost reverent way she handled his manhood, leaving
him with the impression that she liked his cock and balls as much
as he liked her tits and pussy. This was great!

Carla said, "God, you're gorgeous."

That brought him to full erection. She kept pumping while
fondling his nuts. Mark reminded her of her first back-seat
adventure, only Mark was bigger with cleaner lines, more of a
classic cock like dildos are modeled from. His would be
considered a medium, but he was destined to own a large. She
stared at the cock she played with, then raised her eyes to his
to say, "You should have pressed your advantage while you had it.
I never thought for a minute that you would actually pull out."

"Lie back down and we'll try that again."

"No can do. You'll fuck me and cum in my pussy."

"I'll pull out and cum all over your boobs again."

"No you won't. I know your type. You'll cum where you damn well
please and make no apologies. Besides, you clearly demonstrated
where you want your sperm. I would end up with a womb full."

"Are you trying to get me to rape you? Is that what you want? Is
that how you have to have it to remain guilt free and innocent?"

Carla gave him a good pumping, then looked to him with a serious
look, saying, "No, Mark. I want this to be the last of it - one
fling, then no more. I'm the momma; you're the son. After this,
if you try again, I'll get angry. Now, do you want me to finish
you, or would you rather do this?"

Clearly disappointed, he said, "No, you do it."

She smiled warmly, then went down on her knees and engulfed him
with her mouth. With wide eyes, he went stiff all over, lifting
his ass clear of the seat, making it look as though she sucked
him off the seat. This almost made her laugh with a mouthful.
Poor thing had never had his dick sucked. When his cherry butt
settled, she gave him the blow job of his life. She took him deep
in her throat and head-fucked him. When he blew his wad, his ass
was clear of the seat again. She sucked and swallowed every drop,
then nursed on his spent rod for a few minutes before easing off.
She wasted him and tasted him - not bad - not bad at all - a lot
like jock cock.

Carla kissed each nut, then gave the withering head a parting
suck/kiss. Sitting back on her heels with her hands on his knees,
she smiled a cock-sucker's smile and said, "Yummy yummy yummy, I
have love in my tummy."

"Love, hell, you have my wad in your gut. Did you swallow all
that?"

"Yes. I love cum. Sperm makes for large firm breasts."

As she offered up her slimy udders, he said, "So, that's your
secret. Don't tell me Dad did all that."

"I won't. You're not a priest, and this isn't a confessional."

"Yeah, I'll bet that's where you get your breasts pumped up,
isn't it?"

Carla made a disapproving face as she pushed herself up, then sat
on her lounger to say, "I'll let that go. You have every right to
be cynical, and you have every right to think the worst of me."

"No, Mom, I didn't mean that."

"No, you do, and I think you did. I'm not hurt or angry. Like I
told you, I'm flattered that you want me sexually. I thought you
did, but I wasn't sure. I bought this suit to find out. Boy, did
I ever find out. I almost got raped."

He laughed as she got up to gather the pieces to her swimsuit.
While she stepped into the bottoms, he placed his hand on her
bare ass, sending the fingers low into the crotch, preventing her
from dressing. She said, "Mark, this isn't your ass."

"I'm not feeling your ass. I'm playing with your sexy pussy."

Indeed, he was, and playing very well as she said, "I noticed.
This isn't your pussy, either."

"I figure any pussy I have my finger in is my pussy, at least
while I have my finger in it - my finger or any other part of my
body."

"Such as?"

"Toes, nose, elbows, dick, tongue."

"Tongue, huh? Are you one of those nasty boys who dream about
eating pussy?"

"I don't just dream, I eat pussy. I love pussy."

"Is that so? Whose pussy have you eaten?"

"I don't suck cunt and tell."

"Cunt, huh. We are French. I think I know who, and I'll bet she
charges you for the privilege."

"Yes, but she's very reasonable."

"She has quite a racket going. Are the twins in on this?"

"They told me about it. Mom, we need a bigger allowance."

"Suppose I get Mandy to lower her prices."

"Could you do that. Boy, that would be great...ooops...now you
know. You tricked me."

Carla playfully squirmed free and made the tie, saying, "I'm
serious, Mark. We end this nastiness here. You're the son; I'm
the mom; and Mandy is not the family whore. I will have a talk
with that girl. Her prices are coming way down, and for that
particular service, she should be paying you guys. I can't
believe that little stinker has you paying her for oral sex."

"I'd pay to eat your cunt. How much would you want?"

Now putting on the top after wiping with a towel, Carla said,
"Mark, stop. I mean it. We did it; it's done; it's over. Speak
French again and I'll wash your mouth out with soap."

"Fuck, I hate that! You wouldn't stick a bar of soap up your cunt
and make me eat you out, would you?"

Carla turned to face that adorable little devil who had stepped
up and pressed yet another erection into her ass. She cupped his
face as he pressed that marvelous hardness into her crotch,
saying, "Mark, you adorable mother fucker, you stop this. I
swear, if you don't stop, I'll...I'll..."

"Suck me?"

She smiled, then said, "That depends. How much will it cost me?"

"A quarter."

"Umm, a quarter, huh? I can afford that."

She slowly sank to her knees, gripped his cute butt cheeks, and
got a dollar's worth. That was what Carla thought about while
riding a two-fisted-fuck to orgasm. When she gathered her wits
and looked around, Mark was gone. He had every right to be
pissed, for in the two weeks following their pool-side fling, her
moral pendulum swung the other way and she clamped down a rigid
set of moral standards, even putting Mandy out of business. Mark
saw a hypocritical slut. He was pissed - hurt and pissed.

Mr. Arnold and Frank took Mandy off to the master bedroom and the
twins went with them, leaving Carla alone at the table though she
had been invited. Carla could only think of Mark. She went into
the kitchen and used a wash rag to clean herself between the
legs. The twins had made a terrible mess. Carla set that
straight, then went to Mark's room, still naked.

Carla debated getting dressed for this talk, and wasn't sure what
to say, or whether naked or dressed would be more appropriate for
their talk. In the end, she figured, "What the hell. I know he
likes me naked." So, naked she went and timidly knocked on his
bedroom door. "Mark, may I come in?"

"NO!"

"Mark, please don't be angry. I try to do the right thing, but
the flesh is weak."

"Yeah, go fuck Daddy Pat."

That hurt. Carla turned and leaned her back to his door, folded
her arms, thought, then said, "I deserve that. Yes, I'm a slut.
It's all out now. No need to pretend otherwise."

"No shit."

That hurt, too. She thought about changing tack, turning mom,
angry mom and grounding his impudent ass, but she tempered her
rising bile with memories of how hard she had been on him
following that day on the pool deck. Her one-eighty hurt him
terribly. He had a right to be sore. She drew a deep breath, then
said, "It was wrong to try to go back after we crossed the line.
I know that, now. You should have raped me. I wish you had."

"So do I."

Though the words had a bite, the venom was gone. Carla faced the
door and teasingly purred, "Mark, I have a shinny new quarter for
you."

There ensued a pregnant pause, then, "Really, a new one?"

"I'll get a new one. I'll get you ten if you'll do something nice
for me."

"Yeah, how nice?"

"You know...lick me you-know-where."

"Say it."

"I'll give you ten shinny new quarters if you'll lick my pussy."

"No, use the other word."

"You get two-fifty if you'll lick my slut cunt for me."

"Wow, two-fifty! Sure, Mom, come on in!"

Carla smiled and eased in, then approached the bed as Mark
shucked his pants and underwear off. His dick stuck straight up.
She came up to the bedside, threw her leg over, and mounted him
like a horse. His dick sank in like a hot poker into a tub of
warm lard. [recall, she had just been fist fucked] She sat
pinning him, groin to groin, smiling down with him smiling up.
She said, "Now, I'll show you mother fucking."

"Please, not that! Anything but that!"

"Fuck you, mother fucker! Your adorable sexy ass is mine, now."

"That's what Father Branigan said."

That started Carla riding and laughing. After her laughter died
down, she said, "He asks about your sexy ass every Sunday. I
think he misses my baby's cute butt."

"Are you going to make me go back?"

This took her completely by surprise, because this was a request.
With a devilish gleam in her eyes, she said, "Yes, you're going
back."

"Do I have to join the choir again?"

"You most certainly do. Furthermore, this time, you had best be a
good choir boy for Father Branigan."

"Or you'll spank me?"

Now riding hard, she said, "Yes, hard, maybe with a belt."

"On my bare fanny?"

"YES! Oh god, yes! Oh Mark, fuck me! Cum in Mommy, Mark. Cream my
womb, sweetheart."

That's what he did. Creamed it good, too. She collapsed over him
- fucked. He was fucked. They were both fucked when the others
entered the room and Frank took a picture. Mandy proudly
displayed semen runs that ran off both heels, now a fully-fledged
slut, happy as a fully-fledged Lark. Now, they'd be skipping down
that dirt road of Frank's all holding hands, but Carla felt like
Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz and the dirt road looked like the
yellow brick road. They were off to see the wizard, the wonderful
Wizard of Oz.

                              The End
                             
Now is a really good time to join Phantom Base.  Get all the
stories at a discounted price. BIG SALE ! Read other stories by
the same author by visiting Phantom Base at
HTTP://www.PhilPhantom.Com


CAUTION: Exercise caution and good sense before engaging in
unsafe sex practices that involve any exchange of body fluid,
even contact with open sores or small cuts. Scenes involving
large objects, tattoos, bestial sex, body waste ingestion,
bindings, devices and gadgets are the stuff of fantasy and are
offered to promote the only safe sex there is - masturbation.
Before you try anything, find out what the risks and hazards are
because they can all be deadly. Read, enjoy, and remember - sex
with minors should be left to other minors. PP <1st attachment
end>


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