This is the twenty-sixth, and final, chapter of “The Policeman.” As we have stated in earlier chapters, the story contains bisexuality and sexual acts involving adults and under-age minors, both related and non-related, in accordance with the shared story preferences of the authors. If any of this is objectionable to you, you might like to leave and go to another story.
The authors plan soon to begin another story. If you liked “Choosing a Stepfather” and this one, please read our next story, “The Jennings Family,” which continues where “Choosing a Stepfather” left off.
This story is a work of fiction. Some persons and events are based on actual ones, but even those have been so significantly changed that nothing in this story should be read as anything but fictional.
Feedback, which is desired and appreciated, can be sent to “Brad Gillespie” at the address RBZ followed by the digits 3141 at gmail.com. Please put the story title in the subject line. But don't be surprised if the name on the responses is different. That e-mail account is under a different pseudonym than the one I used to write this story.
Feedback to “Tucson Daddy” can be sent to lannyr99 at yahoo.com.
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The nonchalance the women displayed, covered their nervousness. They chatted easily on their way to the bedroom Arnold assigned them. “It has its own bathroom and shower,” he explained.
“How did I wind up volunteering to ‘help’ Margaret? Fucking was simple and easy. Even a kid could do it, as Oliver and Donny did with her, with Martha, and Meredith.” Yet here she was about to enter a bedroom and teach one horny boy to make love to his mom. She felt herself growing wet. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
The boys had rushed ahead. Christopher held the door open for them. “He was certainly growing up with good manners,” Donna thought.
Despite the calm front she was putting up, Margaret was very nervous. “Shit!” she thought. “I have to get naked with… them.” Donna wasn't the real problem, but Oliver. The way that kid was looking at her, appraising her, and getting to see her completely naked.
Donna took charge by first closing the door, then telling Christopher and Oliver, “Would you guys please go into the bathroom, close the door, and undress.” They headed toward the door, when she reminded them, “Don't leave your clothes scattered. Could you fold them and put them on the counter?”
“Yes, mom,” muttered Oliver, irked at being reminded every time to “fold your clothes,” he thought, mimicking Donna's voice.
As they undressed, both boys constantly giggled and whispered about the upcoming event. Yet even with the thought of bare girl skin, they could not help admiring their own lovely hard ons, which were diminutive compared to their Brian's and Phil's. As Oliver's dad told him numerous times, “One day you'll be like me.”
In the bedroom, things were less easy. “Ready for the big show?” asked Donna, trying to add some levity.
Margaret's eyes moved, not to Donna's face, but her nipples, sharply outlined through her thin t-shirt. She tried to listen to what Donna was saying, but she couldn't keep her eyes away from those beautiful breasts with their hard, hard nipples.
Donna giggled like a school girl, realizing that Margaret's thoughts were less on son and mother relationships but a more personal one. “Would you like to see them?” she asked Margaret directly.
Was it the champagnes or her own interests that drove her to plead, “Yes. Please.”
In a quick movement, Donna had her t-shirt off, exposing her bare flesh to this woman she'd only met an hour ago.
“Oh,” gasped Margaret, “You are quite lovely.”
“Could I see yours too, Margaret?” Donna said.
“Oh, of course,” she said, pulling off her own t-shirt. Phil had reminded her to dress casually, without defining the extent of “casual.” She was wearing a lacy almost-transparent bra, which did little to conceal the luscious flesh contained. “Just… just a minute while I unhook these,” she said nervously.
Her fingers were shaking so badly that Donna offered, “Can I help?”
“Yes, please.” She reached around to raise her long hair, so it would be out of the way.
Donna looked at the skin of Margaret's back. Except for the narrow bands of the bra, it was bare. Her breath caught when she touched the soft warm flesh. It was so inviting! She allowed her fingers to lightly run over the exposed flesh before disconnecting the hook and eye of the bra.
Margaret sighed, feeling her touch. Her bra hung loosely by the shoulder straps. A quick shrug; her chest was as naked as Donna's.
“Lovely,” Donna remarked.
Both women found themselves breathing more shallowly, neither wanting to make the first move. Although it was inevitable.
“Shorts off, together on the count of three,” Margaret confidently declared, hooking her thumbs into her waistband. Donna nodded and began the count. “One, two, three.” Both pairs of shorts fell to the floor simultaneously. They stepped out of their discarded clothing. Naked before each other.
“You really do have a beautiful body, Donna,” declared Margaret quite openly. She no longer wished to conceal her growing lust for the taste of a woman. Her first had been so very long ago, yet remained with her even today.
Donna took in the hungry look on Margaret's face as her eyes surveyed her well-kept body. Instead of giving in to the same horny desires the other woman was shamelessly displaying, she replied that Margaret's body was equally delicious. “Nice breasts!” Then, giggling, she added, “I'm glad you shaved. Bare looks so much nicer.”
“It's for Phil. So he doesn't get a mouthful of fur.”
“I do it for both of us. Brian thinks seeing my bare slit makes me look sexier.”
“I agree,” Margaret said boldly, wanting to reach out, to touch it, to spread those lips. She wanted to see what lay between.
Donna knew where this was leading. She needed to keep this act about Margaret and Christopher. “Lay back. Head on a pillow. When the boys come in, invite Christopher to join you beside your hips. Spread them. Invite him to look and ask questions. Begin by pointing to your clitoris. Give him the scientific name and call it your clit. Have him kiss it.”
Margaret shivered at this openly erotic suggestion. Her face openly rebelled. “Donna, I can't. I simply can't do that…”
Donna interrupted and said, “Then just follow my lead. You will like what happens. Ready?”
Margaret nodded, and Donna called out, “Come in and join us, boys.”
Both of them came running through the door so fast they blocked each other for a few seconds. Before them, like a sensual feast, lay their mothers. Both naked and inviting.
Oliver was well acquainted with the view, having seen Donna, Marsha, and Meredith naked many times. For Christopher, it was all new. He fairly shook with desire and stared.
“Holy…” began Christopher, seeing this.
Margaret's voice interrupted his curse. “Come up here, baby. Beside me,” patting the place beside her on the bed.
He did with alacrity and knelt there. Their eyes met and held. Both were very much aroused at knowing what they were about to do.
Donna called out, “Oliver, come, kneel next to me. Show Christopher how we do this at home.” He moved quickly to do so.
Christopher carefully watched Oliver open Donna's lips and touch her clit.
“See this,” said Oliver. “When I rub it, it makes mom feel real good.” He demonstrated for the other boy by rubbing it with two fingers. Donna began to moan softly. Christopher was wide eyed and getting hornier by the second. “Now you do it on your mom.”
Just as if this were not his first time at masturbating a woman, Christopher copied Oliver's finger movements. His mother put hers over his to guide his hand, showing him where to rub and how hard. Tentatively, he felt its form. He began to lightly massage that little button, sending spasms through her. In a moment, she was excited and very wet. Her other hand reached over to find and begin stroking his cock. His still immature thickness aroused her.
“Honey,” she said in a voice made husky from her rising desire. “I want you to put your dick in here.” she moved his fingers down. He felt a moistness and moved his finger to the lower region where he found her hole, and pushed his fingers into its deep recesses, then out again.
Christopher needed no additional instructions. He moved into a kneeling position between her spread thighs. Leaning forward, he made contact with her waiting hole, then deftly slid inside her. Lying atop his mother, he filled her with his erection, while she moaned softly in erotic pleasure. Together with whispered instructions, they found a pace and settled into it.
Soon, too soon, he felt himself going over the edge. “I love you, mom!” he'd said, as he sank his prick in as deeply as it would go.
Margaret was truly astounded at the deep love she felt for him at the moment of his ejaculation.
Upon seeing Christopher mount Margaret to begin their dance of love, Oliver sank his cock into Donna.
“Fuck me hard, baby,” she said softly, while Oliver rapidly thrust into her again and again. Donna's hips matched his thrusts.
It didn't take long for them to cum either. Upon hearing the other couple's cries of completion, Oliver and Donna climaxed together, then all lay quietly, catching their mutual breath.
New vistas had just opened up to him.
When the morning sun sent its rays into their bedroom, it found the four in the shower. The chat among them was casual, although it tended more and more toward the sexual and erotic.
Kneeling before Oliver, Donna gently rubbing her soapy hands over his arms and chest. Her hands moved down over Oliver's belly, enclosing his very hard cock, and with one hand cupping his nuts. He closed his eyes in response to her delicious touch.
“Step back. Rinse,” said Donna, giving him a slight push. When the soap was gone, leaving only freshly washed skin. Donna took his cock into her mouth and began to suckle. His hands moved down to take a hard nipple in each hand and lightly squeeze.
“Mmm…” she sighed as she sucked.
Margaret was so horny! She knew it wasn't the water that was making her wet.
“Mommy?” asked Christopher softly. “Will you suck me too?”
“Oh, baby,” she replied. “I'd love to. You'll have to tell me what feels best.”
He nodded. “I'll help you. You'll like it.”
Christopher was spellbound watching his mother swallow his cock. He'd often fantasized that she might do this, but now, here, in a shower, it was happening. He put his hands on the back of her head and began to thrust, slowly at first, then more rapidly. Margaret was pushing back, matching his pace. Her head was spinning from the erotic effect.
With their naked mothers sucking on their hard cocks, neither boy could hold back for long. Sure enough, within a minute, Oliver groaned loudly, signaling his ejaculation. Donna took his entire load onto her tongue just as Christopher shot his.
Margaret assumed she'd pull her head back, let him shoot onto her body, but his hands held her mouth in place. When she knew what he expected of her, she didn't struggle, but allowed the four jets of semen to land on her tongue.
“Don't swallow it, mom,” warned Christopher, pulling his cock from her mouth.
Donna appeared in front of her. Her puckered lips to show she wanted to kiss.
“Oh, my gawd!” she thought. “Gawd, no. Please.”
But Donna moved right up to her. Seeing the frown on Margaret's face showing that she did not want this.
“Kiss her, mommy,” Christopher whispered into her ear.
Donna made a smaller kissing motion. After a few seconds, Margaret tilted her head in submission. “Oh, what the hell?” she was thinking, and pressed her lips to Donna's.
It surprised her how erotic and sensual this was. She had long ago enjoyed giving her boyfriends and husband blow jobs. This was different. The boy's cum tasted less musky, almost sweeter.
Beyond knowing that she was sharing the semen of two boys, the effect of French kissing Donna drove her to a sexual frenzy. Donna was making her feel good. Very, very good.
In those few lesbian interactions in the past which she'd shared with very close girl friends, their touch did not excite like this.
But they were young immature girls; mere amateurs. Donna was a woman, who knew how to make Margaret appreciate another woman.
Their arms around each other, hands running over each other's bodies. Caressing every square centimeter of flesh, driving their desires higher. Margaret had sucked her husband off. She'd sucked Phil off. She'd sucked her son off. Now she wanted to, well to suck what Donna was offering.
Donna pulled their mouths apart. “It's easier on the bed,” she suggested.
Without bothering to dry or bid farewell to their sons, they vanished into the bedroom. Christopher and Oliver simply watched them go. The soft thump was the sound of them landing on the bed.
“Let's go,” said Oliver.
“Why? I never seen my mom like this before. I didn't know she was such a lezzie.”
Oliver sighed. “I seen my mom with another mom and even a girl.”
“Yer shittin' me,” reacted Christopher, mouth agape.
“I'll tell you about it in the kitchen. I'm hungry. Let's go.”
Taking Christopher's hand, pulling him along, he made sure they left together. Quickly passing the bed where Donna and his mother lay in a 69, hungrily sucking and licking between open thighs.
Oliver tugged on his arm. He was looking back, resisting. Passing through the door, he closed it behind them. “Let's go, Oliver” admonished Brian to him.
In the kitchen, Arnold, Phil, and Brian, also naked, were already drinking coffee and eating French toast. Several pieces remained on a plate sitting in the middle of the table. A pitcher of O.J., and a bottle of syrup, sat on the table. So did a bowl of walnut pieces, and another of blueberries. These were meant to top the toast.
“Hi, boys,” observed Brian. “Have a good sleep?” Their grins confirmed his own assessment.
“It was OK,” shrugged Christopher nonchalantly.
“Yeah. OK,” confirmed Oliver. Turning their attention to the food, they each picked up a plate and took several pieces of toast, then pulled up chairs at the table. All the men were silently staring at them.
Oliver ignored them, preferring to fill his face with syrup-doused toast.
Christopher could not hold back. “I got to fuck mom,” he said proudly. “An' she sucked me off. Took my cum,” he went on excitedly. “An' then she…”
Oliver slapped him lightly on the back of his head. “Would you shut up!”
Touching his head where the blow had fallen, he swiftly turned to confront his attacker. “What's with you?” he asked, irritated. “I was only telling them that mom…”
Again Oliver tapped his head. Christopher put his fork down, and rose, prepared to face Oliver physically. His fists were clenching and unclenching.
Phil grabbed his shoulder. “I think, Christopher, that he's trying to tell you, it ain't your business to tell what mom or Donna are doing.”
“Thanks, Phil,” said Oliver, grateful for his intervention.
“We're in another person's home. His guests. They have different rules than we do at home.”
Christopher's temper dropped, realizing he'd made a mistake. Turning to Oliver, he put out his hand and said, “Sorry.”
“Me too,” replied Oliver, standing and ignoring the hand but taking him in a hug.
Their apologies were interrupted when two beaming women, wearing robes they'd found in the closet, padded in on bare feet.
Margaret had demanded some sort of covering. She was, as yet, not used to appearing naked before men she did not know. “That won't last long,” Donna thought. Not after last night!
Every head turned to see them.
Phil rose and walked to greet Margaret with a prolonged kiss. “Did you miss me last night?” he asked with a smug grin. She looked at him and said, “Darling, I love you, but at this moment I need a coffee fix.”
Phil opened his arms to free her while he went to the counter, where cups were already set out. Selecting one with the “Love me, love my cat!” on it, he added some milk and a little sweetener. Pouring the steaming brown liquid into it, swirled it to mix them.
“Coffee, your majesty,” he said, extending his arm toward her with an exaggerated gesture.
“Thank you, my prince. You may sit.”
Brian rose to embrace his wife. “Good morning, honey. Sleep well?” A chuckle rippled around the table, each man expressing his own opinion.
“Oh, yes. I did. Although I was awakened rather early.” she added, with a laugh. The knowing glance that she cast Margaret's way extracted a blush from her.
Brian knew what Donna liked in her coffee, so he made his way to the counter, selected the cup that read, “I left my heart in San Francisco and my paycheck in Las Vegas.” Like him, she took her coffee black. She was seated at the table, where uneasy conversation was going on. Everybody wanted to know… Did she or didn't she?
He set the cup in front of her, and took his seat beside her. She took a sip, said, “Ah! Just the way I like it. Thanks, honey.” She kissed him on the cheek and turned to glance once again at Margaret, who appeared about to burst. Her eyes were sparkling with mischief. But she held her voice, waiting to speak at the right moment.
Donna was resting her elbows on the table, the way she usually did at home. Holding her cup in both hands, she was blowing on it, cooling it down. Looking into the cup as if she expected something to rise out of it.
Everyone sat silently. Waiting. The seconds turned to a minute, then began a second one.
She looked up over the rim, first at Brian, then at Margaret, smiled almost shyly, and asked, “Well? Any questions?”