Date: Tue, 27 May 2003 22:35:10 -0400 From: BPsmith Subject: Metaxa madness. Ch 1 Metaxa madness. (FF.moth.dghtr les.inc.toys,ws.fist.voy.) By: Pornsmith. A story definitely intended for ADULTS only. Note: I wrote this story in segments. My intention was to end it with Ch 3, but there were a lot of requests to continue, so I did. The story line of the last four chapters were shaped by suggestions. Right now I have another decision to make: do I stop at Ch 7 or do I carry on? Please help me out at: bbpsmth@rogers.com Psmith. Chapter 1 It was a dumb movie and even though I was staring at the screen, I did not see any of it. The glass in my hand was almost empty, and as I reached for the bottle, I realized that I had way too much to drink and it was very late and time to go to bed, but I was not moving. I knew that it was stupid of me, but old habits die hard. Here I was, in my early forties, waiting up for my grown daughter and slowly getting drunk because she was late coming home from a party... Of course that was not the only reason I couldn't sleep. I was also quite horny, and taking another sip of the brandy, I spread my legs a little wider to give my left hand more room. With my eyes closed I started to touch myself, trying to conjure up some guy, big and sexy with a long hard cock, but it was not working. What I got instead was the image of my best friend and her latest fluff as I saw them earlier in the day. I didn't want to think about them at first, but as my fingertips slid along the already moist groove I knew I was fooling myself. The truth was that I wanted to think about them very much. May be it was my favorite Greek brandy that did it, but after months and months of denial I was accepting it: I didn't want a man, I wanted a woman. God I wanted that bitch! No. I wanted both of them! Sitting there, staring blindly at the TV screen I realized that watching those two fuck each other crazy finally tipped me off the fence... We weren't going to open until ten, but I had a few things to check in the back. I had the nagging feeling that we were short of some of the smaller sizes, and wanted to make sure before Donna placed the next order. I got pretty involved with the job, but after a while my stomach reminded me that I had no breakfast, and decided to grab a coffee. I never quite made it. As I turned the corner that led into the narrow corridor and beyond that into the office, I saw them through the open door. They were half naked, and they were not trying on dresses. They were meshed together in a tangle of arms and legs, but despite the confusion of limbs, I had no problem recognizing them. Donna wore her thick dark hair in a pony tail, and I didn't need to see her face to know who she was. The face of the smaller woman was clearly visible as she leaned her head back, her eyes tightly shut, her mouth half open, gasping for air. Frozen with shock I stood there staring at them, and --incongruously-- I wondered what a university student with a busy social life was doing here on a Saturday morning? Then I remembered that Bev Hatfield just finished her mid-terms and was going to be with us for a couple of weeks, and that meant working weekends. And she was obviously not wasting any time to get close to Management. The calculating little slut. I felt my heart pound in my chest and without realizing it I moved closer behind one of the racks. I knew about Donna for a long time, but this was the first time I actually saw her with a woman, and the sight sent a gamut of conflicting emotions through me. I was very angry, a bit surprised and -- strangely-- quite jealous. Standing there, frozen, I had this crazy thought that this was all my fault. After a life long friendship my sister-in law finally made a move on me, and it turned out to be a disaster. The two of us went skiing, had too much to drink and ended up in bed. It wasn't the first time for me, but the ancient memories were vague, and what we did that night totally unhinged me. It was good. It was too good. So good in fact that it scared me. Lying awake beside her after, with her taste still in my mouth I told myself that it had been all a mistake. Obviously I was straight. I used to be happily married and I had two grown children. I liked men, I loved cock, I loved fucking. I definitely was not gay! What happened years ago in college meant nothing... just silly kid stuff. And what Donna and I just did was a mistake. A careless, irresponsible escapade. And so I snuck out of the hotel while she was still asleep, and we never talked about it. I knew she was hurt and I was ashamed, not so much because of the sex but because I hurt her. Because I was too chicken to face her, to talk it through with her. To tell her I was scared because sex that night with her blew my mind... Things between us changed after that. On the surface everything seemed normal, but underneath there was a distance. The old spontaneity was gone, and our friendship was not the same. And neither was Donna. She never denied her sexual orientation, but now she was a lot more open, almost blatant. And what was happening in that small back room a few feet away wouldn't have happened before our ski trip. I walked away from her then and now I was watching her making a fool of herself in our place of business with a young bimbo half her age. I didn't know when they started, but by the time I discovered them the preliminaries were obviously over and the main event was about to commence. Bev was lying back on MY small cot, and I felt my mouth go dry as I looked at her. Although I hated her at the moment I admitted to myself that she was no bimbo. She was lovely and young with a cute face and great body, but apart from that she was bright, friendly and the costumers thought she was great. And obviously so did my slut of a partner. Oh, I had seen Donna flirt with the little bitch, but I never thought that she was going to do it for real. But she was. She was going to fuck the little slut bowlegged...IN OUR OFFICE! And then I realized that the very idea of it was turning me on like crazy. Most people have kinks and mine is watching. I love to watch people fuck. But that was just part of it. I shivered as I recognized that the best part was that I was spying on a woman who was like a sister to me... I wasn't really thinking as my hand slipped into my top and my fingers fumbled with the bra-hook. Then almost idly I was rubbing my nipples, and as I felt them grow hard I knew I was not going to move away any time soon... Sitting there in the den using both hands now, the images I needed were finally there, and as my fingers began to twist the thick, rubbery nipple, I could almost see Bev clutching at her hard, apple like tits. They were not very big but they were disgustingly firm, and I remembered the jealous envy I had felt standing there watching them. I had my top open by then and I shoved my bra up to get to my boobs, and there was some satisfaction in the fact that they were round and flawless and they didn't really sag all that much. And that they were big enough so that I could suck them. I did not do that earlier in the office, I was too busy playing with my churning cunt, but I had a lot more time now. My tits felt soft and heavy as I hefted them, and I felt my mouth go dry as I pinched the nipples until they seemed to be ready to pop. I have huge, dark aureoles that puff up when I get horny and leaning down a little I let my spittle drop on my right nip. Then I spat on the left and then I forced them together to rub back and forth. It felt good, and even better when I stuck out my tongue to flick around the hard, berry like knobs, but it was not enough. Committed now, I scooted lower on the couch and lifting my ass a bit, I got rid of my panties. I didn't know how much time I had left before Annie came home, but I pushed the thought aside. I wanted to make this good, and I wanted to make it last. With my feet on the coffee table I watched as my right hand slid lower across my belly, watched my fingers grip into my damp bush, and had to grit my teeth as three digits curled into my sopping hole. It was hot and mushy and not all that tight, and even as I pushed deeper inside I already knew I needed more. I thought of my vibrator upstairs, and the much bigger rubber dildo, but even those were too mundane. The way I felt I wanted something big and hard and totally outlandish. Almost without thinking I reached for the near empty Metaxa bottle. It was long and smooth and thick and I wandered what those two dykes would do if they could see me like this, nearly naked, my tits hanging out and my panties on the floor, preparing to shove this obscene glass dildo into my big, drooling gash. The bottle felt cold and hard and not at all like the real thing but the very idea of fucking myself with something so nasty only added to my excitement. I was wide open now and the inner flesh of my cunt looked stark pink between the puffy, hair covered lips. I was mushy wet and my clit looked huge and I could smell myself as I scooted down a little. Tipping the bottle I watched the golden liquid trickle down the broad mound, seep into the damp, frizzy pelt, into the dark hewed, syrupy cunt slit, and almost screamed as the fiery brandy burned the creamy gash. I had two inches of the neck inside and wanted more, and shifted a little to improve the angle. I was using my right hand to grip the elongated flask and the knuckles of my left whitened as I pulled the lips apart with thumb and fingers. The TV screen was completely forgotten now as my eyes focused on the nasty looking glass cock slide deeper into the slimy, clinging hole, and I wished that I was limber enough to curl down and suck my own clit. Or that I had Donna down there licking me. Like she had been licking that little blond slut. Kneeling front of her, her face jammed into that beautiful young cunt, licking, sucking, chewing, sticking her tongue up her as if trying to reach her womb. I didn't see her tongue but I could hear Bev moan and scream, telling her to fuck her, to go deep, to stick her face into her. I was sweating as I drove the fake glass cock so deep it began to hurt, and for an instant wandered why peeping on people was such a turn on for me. It was a silly question, a no-brainer. I have known the answer for a very long time. I was twelve when I had my first real orgasm and it came from imitating mom as she played with her pussy while my dad was pulling at his half stiff dick, trying to get it hard for the second time. She was lying back on the couch in the den, completely naked, one leg on the floor the other on the backrest, her pussy a wide open red gash surrounded by a thick dark fringe, one hand squeezing her tits, the other rubbing at her clitoris. She was talking at him, talking filthy, telling him how hot she was, how she wanted his big cock up her horny cunt, how she loved it when he stuck his prick up her ass. Then he pushed his thing into her mouth and that silenced her, and then she sucked him and kept fingering her slit, and neither of them was aware that they had an audience. It would be easy to say that I was immediately turned on and went wild with excitement at the sight, but that wasn't the case. In fact I had been very confused and quite upset. Sure I knew a little bit about sex, but not very much, and what my parents were doing seemed gross. Especially mom. She was wonderful, very proper and very beautiful , and seeing her like that, hearing the things she said was terribly upsetting. Kneeling at top of the stairs, watching them, I was shaking and sweating and had to bite into my knuckles not to scream at them to stop. Then dad twisted around and started to do it to her, and as she hooked her legs around him, as she began to hump up against him, things began to change for me. I thought about it later, tried to remember exactly what happened, but couldn't. I just know that after a while what they were doing was not awful but exciting, and as my dad kept lunging into her I began to touch myself. That wasn't the first time I rubbed my pussy, but it was never like this, and as my hand between my legs picked up their rhythm, I couldn't tear myself away from my spy spot. The sight of their naked sweating bodies, the moaning, gasping sounds mom made, the nasty, dirty things my dad said were so overwhelming that I nearly fainted. Then she was telling him that she was coming, and he grunted that he was coming too, and a few feet away from them, sitting back on my knees, with my fingers pumping into my slit I had my first orgasm... I guess it was unfortunate that I had my first climax while I was watching my parents fuck, because in a sense I never quite got over it. I masturbated regularly after that and the results were always great. Then one night I saw my mom doing it in the den, and my body went crazy. She was sitting on the big arm --chair, talking on the phone, and she was mostly naked. She must have been about thirty five at the time, still very pretty, with a slim figure and beautiful breasts, but her best features were those gorgeous long legs. I am not sure who she was talking to, probably my dad, but she was talking dirty and she was playing with her tits. She was pinching the nipples, pulling at them, and I could hear her describe what she was doing. Then she started to rub her pussy through her panties, and than she began to lie. I guess it was a game they played, because she was telling him that she was not alone and that she had Julia over, and that Julia was kneeling front of her and licking her cunt. She got very filthy then and said all kinds of incredible things, and all the time she was playing with her pussy. She was not big, only about 5'4", with a neat, compact body and as I watched her I couldn't get over her bush. It was thick, darker than her hair, and seeing that heavy pelt made me all hot and wet. I didn't have more than a light start at the time and wished that I had a pussy just like hers'. Then she was rubbing her slit and I was rubbing mine, and as she began to push her fingers inside I tried to copy her. I was sort of confused when she kept talking about Julie, a girl who used to baby sit me, but I was way too excited to really pay too much attention. I was still virgin at the time, still very tight and when mom began to work the head of the phone into herself I knew I couldn't imitate her. She was crazy wild by then, moaning, swearing, saying filthy things as she drove that plastic thing into her cunt, and I could feel the sweat running down my back and tummy. I was in a kind of shock because watching her made me incredibly excited, but it also bothered me. I mean how many young girls see their mom do things like that? Fucking herself with a phone? The thing was though, that even then I realized that it was the nastiness of it all that made me so incredibly horny. I didn't know the word, but somehow knew that it was the depravity of it that made me so excited. I didn't have much up front yet but my pussy was sort of fat and my clit was like a large pea, and as I listened to my mom pleading for a cum I knew I was going to come too. She had the phone all the way up her when she began to gasp, and I had to cover my mouth not to scream out when my own pussy exploded. That was then and this was now, and I didn't have to be careful or silent. I was lying on the couch with my feet on the coffee table and the Metaxa bottle was half way up me, and I wanted more. My voice was raspy as I used the words, urging that big rod to fuck me deeper, to fuck my fat cunt and my horny ass, and as I felt the juices seep into my rear crack I knew that that was to come next. Anal sex came later in life, after I was married. I was eternally grateful to Phil for introducing me to it. He hadn't been a super stud but loved to fuck my ass, and it didn't take me long to get to love it too. The thought of the bottle up there was frightening but exciting as well, and I knew I was going to try it. And then I heard the car and swore in frustration. I was only seconds away... "Shit no... don't come home now! You little bitch. Not now!!!" It was silly of me of course. She was home. She came the worst possible moment but my older daughter Annie was home. Scrambling without conscious thought I straightened things up and sat there, staring at the screen, trying to focus on the idiotic movie, but it was no use. Like so many times in the past I was waiting to hear the door open, to hear her come in. It is strange how mothers never change no matter how old and grown up the kids get... but with me there is that extra dimension. I am a voyeur, and I used to wait up not just out of concern, but because watching her with her boyfriends after a late date had become a habit of mine. I felt my heart beat a little faster and my mouth felt dry as I switched off the TV and sat motionless in the dark. With her away at school there had been a long break, and gave me a chance to put an end to the voyeur hang-up. This situation tonight was a kind of test, and I failed. I wanted to get up to go to bed, but knew that it wasn't going to happen. Without conscious thought I moved toward the little side window, and my palm felt moist as I reached into my robe. There is a light across the street and I could see their silhouettes in the small car and it bothered me that they were a bit too far. I knew that I should not have started looking, but I also knew that I would not stop. Deep down I always knew that spying on my kids was the continuation of spying on my parents and that it was beyond casual kink, but wouldn't let myself dwell on it. That changed after Phil died and Annie moved in with a fellow student and I started to have crazy flashes about her and her boyfriend. They were very intense and quite serious about each other and I used to imagine them in all sort of positions... in bed... in their kitchen...in their car. Those fantasies were wild and dirty, but they were just fantasies. Annie and Frank lived hundreds of miles away and dreaming was safe. I was safe. Then the shock came. Four months ago. She phoned and told me that the whole thing was over and she left Frank and asked if she could come back for a while. Of course I had said yes. I wanted to ask questions but somehow I never did. From the start it became obvious that she did not want to go into detail, and that probing would not help. She was a grown up now, and it was her decision how much she wanted to share... My job was to help her. It had taken weeks, but finally she began to get back to normal. I still didn't know what went wrong, but finally Annie was herself again. It seemed that she began to rebuild her social life. I could see their outlines in the car and they were obviously making out, and it was making me even hotter than I already was. I was still very high from my interrupted session with the brandy bottle, and watching them made me wet. They were wrestling around on the front seat, and I had the impression that her date was feeling up my girl's lush, firm tits, trying to get his hand under her dress. Then they seemed to move apart and I wandered if they were finished, but that didn't make any sense. He must have said something to her because she shook her had no, but he did not move back to her. Then I saw her lean back, saw her shoulder move in a rapid, stroking rhythm, and knew what was happening. The kinky bastard was making my daughter play with her pussy while he watched and jerked off. The thought of it sent a gush of cream seeping down my inner thighs, and I cursed again because there was not enough light to really see. Fortunately the night was silent, and the voices carried a little better. Annie's head was pressed against the back of the seat, and the heavy, gasping sounds she made were faintly audible through the open window. "...watch this... watch this you kinky pervert... Fucking my cunt for you...all wide open... wet... ohh yes...yes...oh shit... You like that? I am taking three...So good. So fucking good. My clit! Oh shhit... beautiful...You like my big clit? Help me cum... oh Christ... help me cum!" Her head was rolling side to side and I thought I could see the guy's hand over her boobs, squeezing them, pinching them, just as I was doing to mine. I had my robe wide open and my naked tits felt full and heavy as I grabbed them. They are still good tits, big and fleshy with thick, fat nipples, and as my fingers began to twist and pull on the sensitive knobs, I realized that my orgasm was not too far off. I wished I brought the bottle with me to fill my pussy hole, but could not make myself move away from my spot. It was a weird sensation and probably impossible to imagine unless you are a mother and a voyeur at the same time. As a mother I felt upset, but as the voyeur I was going wild. I always liked to watch and the years didn't change me much, except that at forty two I am a lot hornier, and the sight of my daughter finger fucking herself a few feet away was driving me crazy. I knew that my face was flushed and my palm felt damp as my hand curled around my left boob inside my robe. Breathing through my mouth I pressed my fingers around the bursting nipple and pinched the erect bud until it hurt. I was hot and also jealous. I envied my daughter because she had a partner and she was getting the kind of loving that I was missing for a very long time And then I realized that I also envied the unknown stud, because he had my beautiful daughter to play with. It was a disturbing realization and I wandered if it had anything to do with my situation with my butchy partner. I didn't push the implications aside as quickly as I did in the past, and as I watched Annie's pale, writhing outline on the front seat I had to admit that it was the sight of her body that gave my excitement an extra dimension. It was a nasty, scary thought and in the end I decided to push it aside. That was a direction I was too scared to go...