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Margaret Randall lay, flushed and panting, beside her fourteen-year-old son, their bodies glistening with perspiration and baby oil. The boy was languidly gathering up drops of his recently ejaculated semen from her chest and neck and alternately feeding each of them with the thick jism as they luxuriated in the afterglow of several hours of deliciously perverted and wild lovemaking. In addition to introducing the teenager to anal sex, the thirty-two-year old mother had demonstrated – as promised – her wealth of masturbatory toys; vibrators and dildos of various sizes, shapes and colors littered the oil-soaked sheets of the bed, though one large dildo remained firmly embedded in Keith's asshole where she had buried it during their last round, much to his delight. Since he seemed to enjoy the feel of it in there so much, Margaret was in no rush to collect it.
Her come-splattered chest and neck were the result of showing the randy high-schooler how much fun it could be to slide his hard cock between her large, oiled and slick breasts as she squeezed them tightly together with her arms while pressing the dildo into her son's welcoming anus. She loved the feel of Keith's cock anywhere on her body and it pleased her greatly to be able to make him come in a way that she could observe the spurting jism leap from the end of his throbbing prick. The memory made her smile as she leaned forward to accept another few drops of the thick, pale fluid from the boy's finger.
Margaret reached out and patted her son's side affectionately. "So? What did you think of tit-fucking?" she purred.
"Amazing," he acknowledged, scooping the last drop of his own semen from her flesh and licking it from his finger with a mischievous grin. "Just like everything you've shown me the last couple of days. You are so beautiful and so sexy, I still can't believe it. I keep expecting to wake up and find out I've just been having a wet dream." He shook his head in delighted incredulity.
"Well, it's been really, really wet," she giggled, "But I promise you, it's no dream. And I'm the one who should be dreading a rude wake-up. You've made me feel things I never thought I'd feel again these last two days – not to mention making me feel some things I never even dared to hope I'd ever feel." She leaned forward to kiss him soundly and tenderly, her full lips melting into his as their mouths met eagerly. "Thank you, my son, my lover," she murmured, a bit breathlessly, once they had parted again.
She glanced at the clock and groaned. "Shit," she cursed softly, "I guess I'm going to have to get up and get some dinner started, especially since it seems we have a guest tonight." She regarded the shiny layer of oil that gleamed on their nude flesh. "Speaking of wet, we'd probably better jump in the shower and get un-greasy before we make an appearance in civilization again, hmmm? Would you be a love and go start the shower? I'll be in there to join you as soon as I get these dirty sheets stripped off the bed."
She paused a moment. "And don't forget to make sure the hallway is clear before you pop out there, right? It wouldn't do to disturb your sister and her boyfriend if you can help it," she giggled though with a meaningful look. She handed him his boxer shorts from the floor. "Here, you can just put these on; no sense getting the rest of your clothes all oily. I'll bring you some clean clothes to wear after the shower."
Keith made a great show of reluctance, groaning exaggeratedly as he pulled his smooth, well-muscled body upwards and heaved himself off the bed but he eventually complied, tugging on the shorts and opening the door of his mother's bedroom a small crack to survey the hallway before giving her an OK sign with his fingers and departing for the bathroom. Margaret soon heard the shower water start and hastened to yank the soiled linens from the bed, using some of the relatively clean parts to mop up the remaining oil that coated the mattress cover.
She patted the mattress cover with a wry look and said softly aloud, "Good job – you earned your pay today," then giggled to herself before struggling into a robe and heading out of the room to drop the dirty bedclothes in the laundry downstairs and return to join her son – her lover now, she reminded herself – in the shower.
Once under the steaming spray with Keith, she turned businesslike and scrubbed him thoroughly to remove all traces of the clinging oil. Though she would dearly have loved to linger and enjoy the feel of the boy's eager fingers or prick inside her once more, she knew that her daughter and Brad could emerge from the girl's room any moment and she didn't dare risk that – showering together with her son was taking enough of a chance.
Once she had Keith clean, she had him scrub her down as well and then quickly stepped out to dry and don her robe once more. "You can stay in there a bit longer, my love," she instructed, flashing him a fond smile, "Just give me a little time to sneak out of here, get dressed, and get downstairs to start dinner. I'll see you soon. And thanks for the best afternoon I've ever had in my life," she concluded, a lump of emotion forming in her throat.
She turned quickly, not wanting to turn into a blubbering blob of sentimentality and, after a hasty glance up and down the hall, tiptoed out after shutting the door quietly behind her.
Once again in her room, she gathered up the scattered sex toys, wiping them clean and restoring them to her nightstand drawer before busying herself applying light makeup. She considered dressing in street clothing once more but impishly decided instead on the sultry, barely-concealing gown she had bought the day before.
"What are you trying to do?" she asked herself aloud, "Seduce your daughter's boyfriend, too?"
No, she decided after a moment's pondering, it was more that she was feeling very good and very sexy and didn't want that feeling to end. She definitely wanted to keep reminding both her children that she was a damned sexy woman. And if Brad happened to notice (which, if Melissa had done what she expected her to, he might not) well then, why not? Maybe the boy would even mention something to his father about the way she looked.
She stopped, blushing furiously. Now what put that thought in her head, she wondered? Nervously, she finished straightening the room, gave herself a hurried glance in the mirror to ensure that the scanty garment was actually covering all the vital spots, then walked down the hall to the stairs, pausing at her daughter's door only long enough to assure herself that there were no sounds whatsoever from within.
Downstairs, she bustled about the kitchen, joined by Keith after some time. The boy whistled appreciatively when he saw how she was dressed but made no other comment. She dragooned him into service, having him set the table and pouring beverages, but it was still nearly a quarter to seven o'clock before the dinner preparations were complete.
"I think we're about ready, love," she told her son, pausing to wipe her forehead with her forearm. "Would you mind just putting the salad on the table while I go let your sister and her friend know that dinner's ready?"
"You sure you don't want me to just go upstairs and tell them for you?" Keith asked. He was intensely curious about what might have transpired between his precociously sexy sister and her cute boyfriend - very cute, he admitted with a strange feeling that he couldn't identify.
His mother shot him a sharp glance, but said at last, "No, I think maybe I'd better handle it in this case, but thanks."
Keith shrugged and sat down at his place at the table as the woman turned to head upstairs, though not before giving him a final, curious glance. Now what is going on in that gorgeous head of yours, she mused? Could it be you're jealous? Interesting, she smiled to herself as she trod the stairs.
Outside Melissa's bedroom, Margaret paused once more to listen. She wasn't sure but she could almost hear what sounded like soft snores from behind the closed door. So, she thought wickedly, sleeping together already? She knocked softly at the door and then, hearing no response, knocked more firmly.
There was the sound of shifting bedsprings and then her daughter's groggy voice, saying, "Huh? What? Mom?"
"Yes, it's me, sweetheart," her mother answered indulgently. "Dinner's on the table; please get down as soon as you can. Is everything all right?"
"Uh, yeah, Mom, everything's fine," Melissa yawned from the other side of the door. "We'll be down in a couple of minutes, okay?"
"All right, see you soon," Margaret responded before padding away back downstairs.
As soon as she heard her mother's retreating footsteps, Melissa gave a sharp nudge to the still-sleeping, black-haired boy whose naked body was entwined around hers. "Wake up, Brad. Brad! Baby, wake up! We've got to get dressed!"
The thirteen-year-old winced and groaned, opening first one eye and then the other. "Do we have to?" he whined, eying his new girlfriend's bare, precociously large breasts in front of his face.
Melissa gently but firmly propelled him upwards and off the bed. "Yes, Brad, we have to. Sorry. It was very, very nice but that's all the time we have today for, uh, `stuff' as you call it. My Mom just said dinner's on the table."
"Dinner! Well, that's different," he said more alertly, searching the floor for his discarded clothing. "I'm kind of hungry now."
"Well, I guess," the redhead replied with a glance at the clock. "It's practically seven already."
"No shit?" he responded, mildly astonished, and then groaned, holding up his jism-filled underpants. "Oh, man! What am I gonna' do with these things?"
"What's wrong with them?" Melissa asked, trying to keep the amusement from her voice since she thought she knew very well what his problem was.
"It's, uh, they're, you know, kind of..." his voice trailed off weakly, his cheeks reddening.
"Full of your come?" she asked bluntly though tempering her words with a gentle smile. She rummaged through her clothing searching for something to wear.
"Yeah, you might say that," he nodded ruefully. "And not just once, but twice."
"Twice!" she exclaimed, looking back at him from her study of her closet. "How'd that happen? I thought you only came once."
"Well," the eighth-grader mumbled, obviously discomfited, "It was just before you, er, you know, came so hard and sort of, I guess, fainted. You kept shouting about how you wanted me to, uh, well, fuck you," he swallowed, looking down at the floor.
Melissa felt heat rising in her cheeks but refused to be intimidated. "So? Why didn't you fuck me? I wanted you to!" Now it was her turn to swallow hard and she could feel her cheeks positively burning.
"I-I wanted to," the boy stammered, "But at first a wasn't sure you really wanted me to," and Melissa let out a loud sigh of exasperation which caused him to swallow hard, but he bravely plunged on, "And then you were coming so, like, crazy, and I was already so turned on and when I thought you really wanted to, uh, do it with me, I just, you know, sorta' lost it." He paused and shrugged apologetically. "And then afterwards, you were, you know, like, out of it and I had to clean up with something and since these," he raised the soiled undergarment, "Were already, you know, dirty from the time before, I figured I'd just use them."
He stopped suddenly and looked into her face. "So do you, uh, you know, still want to, you know, do it?" he asked in a hopeful tone.
"Do what?" she asked archly. "Oh, you mean do I still want to fuck?"
He nodded eagerly.
"Definitely, Brad, definitely," she answered with a warmer smile. "But-" and she held a hand up to forestall him when he took an excited step towards her, "But not now, baby. We don't have any more time today. We'll just have to wait. Sorry."
"Me, too," he mumbled resignedly.
He looked so laughably crestfallen that the seventh-grade girl took pity on him. "Look," she promised, "We will, we will. I still want to feel you all the way inside me so we will, first chance we get, I promise, okay? But for now," and she paused, struck with an idea as she glanced at the semen-filled underpants in Brad's hand, "For now, why don't you just give me those to wear."
"What?" he asked genuinely puzzled though he handed them over without hesitation. "Why?"
"'Cause since I can't have your cock in my pussy, I can at least have your come between my legs. That's almost as good, right?" she responded, scarcely believing her own shamelessness.
She slipped her feet through them and tugged them up around her waist. They were an uncomfortably tight fit; Brad had a considerably slimmer waist than she but she gamely persisted, having declared her course of action. She eventually got the dangerously stretched underpants in place and made an exaggerated show of pushing the jism-soaked crotch into her cunt slit with her fingers. She noted with amusement that her young lover's cock stiffened to full erection as he watched her, silent but open-mouthed.
"I'm glad to see you like the idea," she said, waggling her eyebrows suggestively with a glance at his hard prick before reminding him, "But we really can't do anything more about it now, baby – we need to get dressed before my Mom comes up to see what's keeping us."
A panicked look shot across the thirteen-year-old boy's face and he scrambled to locate and don his clothing. Melissa briefly considered wearing the scandalously sheer house gown her mother had given her but abandoned the notion when she realized the slit up the side would clearly show Brad's underwear and raise a number of questions from the rest of her family she would rather not have to answer. With a sigh of resignation, she quickly pulled on the midriff-baring top and low-cut pants she had worn earlier and, seeing that Brad was now dressed, shooed him hurriedly out of the room to follow him downstairs.
When the two younger children entered the kitchen, they found Keith and Margaret already seated at the table. Her mother gave Melissa a look whose raised eyebrows but suppressed smile clearly communicated that she had a pretty good idea why they had been slow to come to dinner.
Melissa offered a pleasant smile in return and seated herself at the table without comment, but inside she was seething with jealousy. Not only had her mother spent the afternoon fucking, yes, fucking! her brother in who-knows-how-many different ways while she had to content herself with her lover's second-hand jism held on the outside of her yearning pussy by uncomfortably tight boy's underwear, but now her mother was sitting there, beautiful as a queen, wearing the very same revealing gown that she had wanted to wear, garnering all the surreptitious male lustful glances she had hoped to receive.
It didn't help that even Brad didn't seem to be able to tear his eyes away from her mother's figure, though she had to admit she could hardly blame the boy. Her mother's large, full breasts threatened constantly to spill out from either side of the barely-restraining neck straps and the clearly visible exposed sides of her soft, globular tits jiggled tantalizingly each time the woman moved or laughed. The nipples, covered precariously by the sheer cloth of the garment, were distinctly erect and protruding through the thin material; even the darker outline of the woman's aureoles were discernable, darkened circles surrounding the hard points. It was all the twelve-year-old girl could do to keep from staring at the twin forms constantly herself and the two boys didn't even try. Their eyes remained fixed as if hypnotized on the older woman's chest regardless of who they were speaking or listening to throughout the innocuous dinner conversation.
It was so pathetically predictable that Melissa found her self-pity warring with scornful amusement at the reactions of the two male diners. And when Brad's jaw actually dropped open as Melissa's mother rose, ostensibly to offer more lemonade though she turned the wrong way necessitating a swirling turn that parted the scandalously cut leg slit even wider and briefly exposing nearly one entire ass cheek, she did laugh out loud.
"What's so funny?" her mother demanded, turning back from the refrigerator with the pitcher of lemonade in her hand.
"Oh, nothing," the redhead demurred, "Just enjoying the show, that's all."
Margaret colored slightly but said sweetly, "I'm glad, love. I do try to please."
"That you do," her daughter said in a flat tone.
"Something wrong, sweetheart?" her mother inquired with a raised eyebrow.
"No, Mom," Melissa said quietly before turning her face down to her plate and concentrating on her dinner.
Margaret frowned momentarily, uncertain what might be behind her daughter's subdued mood. She studied the faces of the two boys at the table and it dawned on her that both Brad and her son wore disgustingly smug and contented expressions. She began to get an inkling of what might be the source of Melissa's disgruntlement. She knew that the cause of her son's disgustingly satisfied expression was because he'd spent the afternoon screwing her like crazy and basically getting more wild sex than most fourteen-year-old boys were even capable of fantasizing about; it seemed apparent that her daughter's new boyfriend had gotten a lot farther with her daughter than he'd expected as well. It appeared, however, that he'd been considerably more satisfied from the encounter than had Melissa.
A poignant upwelling of sympathy flooded the buxom mother. She knew all too well what it felt like to leave a man completely satisfied with sex while being left unfulfilled herself, her own needs totally ignored. Poor girl, she thought to herself; I'll have to make sure I spend some time comforting her later. She felt a deliciously lewd heat course through her crotch at the thought of exactly how she might be able to `comfort' her twelve-year-old, sexually-awakened daughter. Her nipples hardened as an image of Melissa and she making passionate love, their faces buried between each other's legs as their tongues coaxed orgasm after orgasm out of their inflamed and oozing cunts, arose unbidden in her mind.
Margaret heard several sharp intakes of breath from the children around the table and opened her eyes, startled, to see all three of them looking at her in shock and amazement. She had a moment of befuddlement as she tried to grasp what was causing their consternation before she followed their gazes down to her body and realized that in the course of her erotic woolgathering, she'd allowed one hand to softly graze her turgid nipples and the other to actually descend between her legs and rub her aroused and yearning pussy through the thin, sheer material of her barely-decent gown.
The older woman snatched her hands away from her body as if they'd been stung and she felt a hot burning in her cheeks. Mumbling something about itching, she hastily turned back to the sink and studiously busied herself with unnecessary cleanup and other chores for several minutes.
When she at last returned to the table to finish her meal, no one said anything about her wanton and surprising behavior, though all three of the youngsters would surreptitiously glance at her when they thought she wasn't looking. Keith's glances were of pure lust – he'd clearly enjoyed her little show and was probably calculating just how quickly he could get her in bed again, his cock slamming joyfully in and out of her pussy or welcoming asshole. Brad's looks displayed primarily puzzlement, though there was an intrigued gleam in his eyes that planted a notion in her mind about whether her daughter might be willing to share the boy at some point down the line, a thought she viciously squelched – things were already complicated enough! Her daughter's expression when she could observe it was more complex – lust, amusement, and what almost looked like anger. But anger about what, she wondered? She vowed once more to get the girl alone at the first opportunity and get to the bottom of whatever was bothering her.
They passed the remainder of the meal in silence broken only by occasional polite but inconsequential comments about the food. Margaret glanced at the clock as she rose to begin clearing the dishes and felt a pang of parental guilt – it was nearly 8:00 p.m.
She took charge, declaring, "Melissa, honey, it's getting very late for company on a school night. It's been very nice having Brad here for a visit and," turning directly to the dark-haired boy, said, "And I hope you'll come over and visit again very soon. But," and she once more addressed her daughter, "It's time to tell Brad good night and send him home. Keith, would you please help me get the kitchen cleaned up and the lunches made for tomorrow?"
"Aw, Mom," her son started to protest but she fixed him with an intense look.
"Please, son," she asked in a firm voice. "Your sister needs a few minutes alone with Brad to say goodbye. A few minutes, mind," she added with a significant look at Melissa, though she said it not unkindly.
Okay, Mom," her daughter assented, rising from the table, and motioning for Brad to do the same. Keith also arose without further grumbling and began to collect the dishes from the table.
"And when you get back, Melissa," the older woman continued, "I'd like to talk to you, okay?"
The plump redhead cocked an eyebrow suspiciously but nodded her agreement before turning to follow her eighth-grade boyfriend down the hall to the front door.
"Bye, Brad," Margaret called out in farewell, "Thanks for coming."
She was answered by a moment of silence, followed by nervous giggles from both Brad and Melissa, but Brad eventually recovered his composure enough to answer, "Thanks, I'm glad I did. Bye, Mrs. Randall. Oh, and Keith."
Her son grunted in response, a look of stifled amusement on his face and then they heard the front door open and close as the two younger children stepped out onto the porch into to the dark of the evening.
Keith's stifled guffaws burst out into the open the moment the other two were safely outside. "Thanks for coming?" he bleated, laughing heartily. "I can't believe you, Mom!"
His mother shrugged with a sheepish grin. "Well?" she wanted to know, "What was I supposed to say? Besides," she went on in a mischievous tone, "It seemed pretty God-damned obvious from the look on his face that that was exactly what he'd been doing."
"Really?" the boy asked, intrigued, "You think so?"
"Jeez, son!" she exclaimed, "You couldn't tell? Shit, he had the same `I'm so unbelievably hot and sexy and I've just been laid' look on his face at dinner that you did."
Her son reddened. "I did not!" he protested weakly.
"Oh, yes, you most certainly did," his mother answered with a gentle laugh, "But in your case it was well-deserved." She cocked her eyebrows teasingly at the blond fourteen-year-old and he beamed, mollified. "But I'm not so sure the Muller boy earned it."
"What do you mean?" Keith prompted with interest. "Do you think they actually did it or not?"
"If you mean did they really fuck or not?" she answered, amused that the boy still had difficulty saying the obscenity in front of her despite having been enthusiastically and repeatedly engaged in that very activity with her for the past twenty-four hours, "I couldn't tell." She shook her head thoughtfully. "It seemed pretty clear from the look on their faces that Brad felt like he'd gotten what he wanted but your sister definitely hadn't. Now whether that was because she's no longer a virgin and it wasn't at all what she expected or – more likely – because the boy was too inexperienced or too macho to worry about satisfying her once he'd been taken care of, I don't know. That's why I'm going to talk to her once she sees Brad off."
"Sees him off or gets him off?" her son asked dryly.
"Well, I trust her to have the good sense not to be ridiculously indiscreet," Margaret answered with an amused snort, though she gave a quick glance in the direction of the front door. "I'm not going to rush her – at least not too much. Why? Did you have something in mind?" she asked with an exaggerated leer.
"If I do, it's your fault," the boy countered with a droll smile. "Watching your performance at dinner would have gotten a rock turned on."
His mother felt her cheeks redden once more. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," she sniffed unconvincingly.
"No?" the teenager asked sardonically. "I was already about to jump on you right there when you were flashing us all in that – gown or whatever you want to call it that you can damn near see right through. But when you started playing with yourself standing right in front of us in the kitchen, I about peed my pants!"
"No one seemed to mind," she retorted defiantly though she could feel her embarrassment burning on her face.
"Well, shit, I sure didn't," he admitted with a grin before his expression turned dry. "But I'm not sure Melissa and Brad were ready for that," he offered gently.
"Hmmmph!" she answered, tossing her head. "You might be surprised." She continued before he could react, "I was going to suggest that we could use the time while your sister is, well, occupied, to do something interesting ourselves. But since you're being so mean to me, you can just make yourself scarce while I talk to Melissa. But save your strength, big guy," she added with a smoldering glance that helped take the sting out of her previous words, "You might need it later tonight."
Keith laughed throatily at her lascivious invitation and agreed to absent himself. But before he turned to leave the room, he boldly stepped up to his mother and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her long and passionately, his thick, moist tongue plunging impudently into the depths of her eagerly opened mouth. As the voluptuous woman began moaning with rising lust, her son's hands roamed freely up and down her body, impertinently worming their way inside the deeply cut neckline and thigh slit to touch and caress her rapidly swelling nipples and dripping cunt slit.
Margaret allowed herself to be ravaged by her son for several moments, loving the way he touched her and the way he so obviously desired her, before pushing him away firmly. "Later, my love, later," she insisted rather breathlessly, her hear thudding in her chest from the blazing sexual excitement the boy awoke in her every time he placed his hands on her or kissed her like that. "If we don't knock it off now, we're going to end up like we did this morning here in the kitchen."
"Was that so bad?" her son asked with arched eyebrows.
"You know it wasn't," she retorted with mock severity, "In fact it was fucking wonderful – and vice versa!" The boy laughed out loud as he got the joke, and she went on, "But your sister isn't in the shower now. And it would be just our luck that she'd come back in with Brad because he forgot something. They damned near caught us this already this afternoon, remember?"
He shrugged in acknowledgement but retained his devil-may-care expression.
"So go on, now, my love. Relax and rest up a bit. You didn't even need to kiss me like that to remind me of how much I love you and how much I want to fuck you all the time. I promise, I'll remember later tonight, too."
"Okay, Mom," her blond son relented with an exaggeratedly aggrieved sigh and turned to go upstairs.
It was only when she heard Keith's rambunctious footsteps on the stairs that she allowed herself to fully exhale, nearly collapsing, and bracing herself against the kitchen table. What have you started here, she wondered to herself, not for the first time? She could barely conduct herself with decency in public anymore, so constantly aroused and lustful she was since she began having sex with her two children. With a wondering sigh, she busied herself in the kitchen, completing the necessary preparations for the morning while she awaited her daughter's return from the front porch.
Outside, Melissa and Brad had just parted from a torrid French kiss, standing in the shadows to the side out of the shaft of light from the street lamp. The kiss had started tamely enough but had quickly escalated into a grinding, panting, moaning tongue-wrestling affair, their pubescent bodies urgently writhing against each other, hands groping inside each other's clothing to fondle and caress her breasts, his chest. They eagerly sought the position they had discovered during their first slow dance together, with their thighs pressed deeply into each other's crotches, pushing and rubbing lasciviously against their privates.
But when Brad took her hand and placed it against his hard, straining prick, encouraging her to stroke it, she rebelled and pushed him away gasping in frustration. It wasn't that she objected to touching his cock; it was that she wanted so much more and she definitely didn't want to undergo yet another experience of her eighth-grade lover coming before he managed to get his young hard-on shoved all the way inside her yearning pussy.
"No! Not like this," she hissed, pulling his hand determinedly away from under her top.
"What? I thought you liked that!" Brad protested.
"Shhhh!" she cautioned, "Keep your voice down. No, I mean, yeah, I do like that, but I – Oh! I can't explain!" she whispered, edgy and miserable.
"Explain what?" the thirteen-year-old asked, mystified at her sudden change in mood.
Melissa lowered her head for a long moment before raising and answering, her voice soft but intense. "I want you, Brad. I want you to make love to me; yes, all the way, everything," she confirmed as the boy's face flashed worried uncertainty at her meaning. "I would have done it this afternoon, but it – well, it didn't work out, that's all," she shrugged, reluctant to vent all her frustration on him. "But I want to do it right, and I'm not going to try something quick in the bushes where neighbors or anyone might see. You understand?"
Brad nodded reluctantly, unwilling to postpone his desires now that the plump girl had confirmed she shared them.
"So it's too late tonight," she went on gently, caressing the side of his face to ease his obvious disappointment. "We'll just have to wait for tomorrow. Can you do that?"
"Uh, sure!" the boy eagerly assented, glad to have a firm promise.
"And can you do one more thing?" the twelve-year-old girl asked, her impish smile masked by the gloom on the darkened porch.
"W-what?" Brad asked, suddenly suspicious.
"Oh, no, no, no!" the girl chastised her eighth-grade lover merrily. "You didn't learn your lesson from the other night, did you? You're not supposed to ask what first, you're just supposed to agree, remember?"
The slim boy blurted, "Without knowing what it is?"
Now Melissa smiled broadly, feeling like she once again had the upper hand in the conversation. "You didn't do too badly the other night when you promised to do whatever I asked without knowing what it was first," she reminded him archly.
"Oh, yeah," he mumbled, mildly crestfallen at his earlier reaction. "Okay, I promise – I'll do whatever you want. Is it good?" he asked hopefully.
"Well, you might not like it at first, but I think it'll be worth it," she answered with a mischievous giggle. "I just want you not to, uh, you know, jerk off or anything between now and tomorrow afternoon." She swallowed, embarrassed at confessing a secret desire but bravely continued. "I just want, uh, everything, you know, a full load from you, if you know what I mean. It – it just seems right if we're really gonna' do it. Okay?"
"Sure, okay," the young boy agreed before frowning, "But, jeez, that's gonna' be hard."
"That's the idea," Melissa acknowledged with a wicked snort.
"Oh...oh!" Brad grinned as her meaning sank in. "Okay, sure, right!"
"Good!" the redhead nodded, pleased. "So will I see you tomorrow?"
"Hell, yeah!" he blurted. "I mean, uh how else...?"
"Yeah, sure, tomorrow afternoon, for sure," she laughed, "But I kinda' meant like, you know, tomorrow morning. You want to walk with Steph and me to school? I'd like that," she added, suddenly shy.
"Oh, well, yeah, sure!" he agreed. "I, uh, I guess I better get home then," he added, shuffling his feet.
"Yeah, I guess you better," she nodded. "At least, after you give me one more good kiss – just to make sure I don't forget about you by tomorrow morning. I'm kidding!" she added quickly at his outraged expression. "C'mon, kiss me good, baby," she whispered.
The thirteen-year-old boy required no further encouragement and stepped close to her once more. Their lips found each other in the dark, followed quickly by their tongues as they lewdly thrust and slithered the slippery organs into the soft, welcoming recesses of each other's mouths. They pressed in close together and Brad's hands immediately began to roam up and down the length of Melissa's ample form, pausing to impudently squeeze and caress her large, firm ass cheeks. Within seconds, his hands had worked their way under the edge of her top and wormed rapidly upwards to knead her overdeveloped tits. Melissa allowed him free reign, less concerned about how far they went now that they had seemed to reach an agreement about the following day. They both moaned softly as his fingers made contact with her erect, sensitive nipples.
"Oh, God, Melissa, I love to touch you," Brad whispered, pulling away briefly from their impassioned kiss. He ground his rapidly swelling cock into his girlfriend's soft, fleshy thigh, his hips flexing obscenely as he thrust against her. "You've got such fantastic tits, uh, I mean breasts," he amended.
The seventh-grade girl was beginning to feel her self-control slipping, her barely banked arousal flaming once more as her young lover pressed his lascivious assault, but managed to moan, "It's okay – you can call them tits; I don't mind. And – ohhhh!" she gasped as he tweaked her left nipple vigorously, "And I'm glad you like them. I love you t-touching them t-too," she panted, feeling her cunt beginning to ooze freely, moistening the semen-coated crotch of Brad's underwear she still wore under her pants.
At the thought of her pussy juices blending with her young lover's jism between her legs, Melissa's sexual heat welled up swiftly, an almost visceral sensation of electric tingles spreading from her crotch upwards over her plump tummy to connect with the little jolts of pleasure the boy's fingers were shamelessly eliciting from her turgid nipples. She was breathing heavily now and her heart was slamming excitedly against her ribcage.
Recklessly, she reached down and worked the waistband of her pants below mid-thigh and guided one of the eighth-grade boy's hands down into her crotch, pressing it tightly against the soaked cloth of the male underpants in the crevice between her legs.
"Feel how wet you make me?" she moaned, abandoning all pretense at decency.
Her hips undulated against his eagerly probing fingers of their own volition. Her head sagged onto Brad's shoulder weakly as the boy wasted no time in wriggling his hand down inside the waistband of the soiled underpants and into the sweet, slick crevice of her freely discharging cunt. She gasped in uninhibited pleasure as one of his fingers slid easily into her vagina, thrusting rhythmically as he continued to twist and tweak her nipple with the other hand and enthusiastically ground away against her now-bare thigh with his cock, rigid inside his jeans.
Their obscene exertions had rapidly worked Melissa's pants and borrowed underpants down around her knees and her top up around her collarbone, leaving her body completely naked to the cool evening air in between those points as Brad caressed and poked her with his two hands. The helplessly aroused seventh-grader was lost in a fog of lust, her chest heaving as she gasped and moaned under the ardent ministrations of her young lover, her head lolling on his shoulder as she panted.
Despite her earlier reluctance to risk detection from the street, Melissa's fevered, pubescent brain was now seriously toying with the notion of trying to get Brad to actually fuck her right then and there. He was driving his fingers in and out of her slick, quim-soaked twat faster and faster and she could feel the incipient internal twinges that were the precursors to another orgasm. But she didn't want to just be finger-fucked again by him – she wanted to feel his stiff cock buried inside her completely. She could feel the rock-hard bulge of his erection pulsing against her bare thigh, and a wave of total, lustful desire washed through her that nearly made her knees give way.
"Brad, I-" she gasped, trying to spit out the words between the heavy breaths. "Uh, maybe we could – hunnnggghh!" she grunted uncontrollably as the dark-haired boy made contact with her swollen, quivering clitoris, sending fresh waves of almost unbearable ecstasy shooting up and down her wantonly exposed flesh. "Ohhh! God damn it! I want you so much! I don't think I can w-"
The frantically aroused redheaded girl was just on the point of throwing all caution overboard and begging her young lover to fuck her immediately when a sudden, bright flash of light interrupted her. A car had turned down the darkened street, its headlights clearly illuminating the obscenely groping pair on the porch. With a barely stifled shriek, Melissa dropped to the porch floor behind the obscuring railing in a panic, pulling the startled Brad down on top of her. They hung there motionless for an agonizing moment as the vehicle slowly moved down the street, her fingers over his lips urging him to silence. Melissa was almost certain the car slowed somewhat as it passed the front of the house as if the driver was hoping for a better look at what could only have been a very brief glimpse of her virtually naked body, but it finally moved on and disappeared around the corner.
Only then did the seventh-grade girl dare to breathe, relief turning quickly into helpless giggles. She was joined in her laughter by Brad, though he impudently began searching out the plump girl's cunt with his fingers once more.
Melissa, however, pushed him firmly but kindly away. "No, baby," she whispered, "I think the car might have gotten a good enough look the first time they might come back around for another try."
The eighth-grader glanced meaningfully at the sheltering barrier of the porch railing. "So? They wouldn't be able to see anything," he observed, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
At that moment, further discussion was cut short by the porch light unexpectedly flashing on. With a panicky gasp, Melissa rudely pushed the slim boy from atop her and had just managed to tug the underpants and pants close to the vicinity of her waist when the front door opened and her mother's face appeared behind the screen. The older woman studied the couple sprawled on the porch floor, taking in her daughter's still-exposed breasts and overall disheveled appearance before allowing her gaze to linger a bit on the large, elongated lump clearly visible in Brad's crotch under the straining cloth of his blue jeans. Her lips curled in a faint smile.
"Are you two all right?" she asked at last in a voice that seemed like she was having trouble suppressing knowing laughter. She was still garbed in the sheer, suggestive housedress in which she'd served them dinner and her daughter's young boyfriend goggled at her. Margaret met his gaze steadily, a predatory, smoky glow in her eyes until he swallowed hard and looked away.
"Uh, yeah, Mom," her daughter gulped while struggling up into a sitting position and self-consciously pulling her top back down over her bare tits. "We, uh, we just slipped and fell," she explained lamely.
"Hm-hm," her mother nodded, her voice studiedly neutral. With one last glance at Brad's barely concealed hard-on, she turned away but said over her shoulder, "I think you'd probably better say good night and let Brad get on home, sweetheart. I'll be up in my room when you come back in – now, right?"
Y-yeah, very soon, Mom," Melissa promised shakily, her heart still thudding in her chest at the dual close calls. "Uh, I need to call Stephanie for a minute beforehand, okay? It'll be short, I promise," the girl called out at her mother's retreating back.
"All right, dear," the woman's voice floated back from down the hall. "Just not too long..."
Melissa noted that her mother had pointedly left the porch light on and the front door open. She glanced over at Brad next to her on the porch floor to comment and saw that the boy was still staring, open-mouthed at the open door where her mother had just vanished. "Hey!" she protested, "Are you checkin' my Mom out?"
"I was not!" Brad denied, a trifle too strenuously to be convincing. In the warm glow of the porch light the betraying flush of his cheeks was immediately obvious.
Seeing his blatant discomfiture, Melissa laughed out loud, a husky, throaty sound. She heaved her plump body to her feet before continuing. "You sure as fuck were!" she snorted in a more hushed voice, aware of the open door behind her and the possibility of being overheard from within the house. "But it's okay – really," she grinned, forestalling another denial on his part. "My Mom's pretty damn hot and sexy if I do say so myself. I'll be lucky if I look as good at her age."
The eighth-grade boy had also clambered to his feet and now looked her body up and down, his eyes lingering on her precociously developed breasts for a moment before answering with an impudent grin, "Jeez, I think you're pretty damn hot and sexy, too. And I think you're going to look just like your mom when you're older – you can already see it."
Melissa felt a warm glow of pleasure at her new boyfriend's compliments and leaned over to kiss him tenderly. "Thanks," she said, pulling away quickly after the kiss before things could get carried away again. "That's really sweet of you to say so."
"Well, I mean it," Brad shrugged, looking a bit awkward at his frank admission. "I think you're the sexiest girl I've ever seen."
Now it was the plump redhead's turn to feel embarrassed. She giggled nervously. "I-I'm glad you think so, Brad," she mumbled at last. "Even if you're just saying that, it's really nice to hear."
"God, Melissa!" he spluttered, "I'm not just saying that! Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? It makes me, uh, you know, get hard just looking at you – even with your clothes on," he added in a soft voice.
The seventh-grade girl glanced down at his crotch and felt her own cunt begin to ooze at the sight of the obvious swelling beneath his trousers. "Well," she responded, her voice taking on a decidedly huskier tone, "I'm really glad you feel that way. It's nice to know I have that effect on you. And as long as you keep feeling that way," she added, returning her gaze to his face, "I don't mind you checking out my Mom. It sure seemed like she was getting off teasing you earlier, so I guess she doesn't mind you looking, either."
"Yeah, I kinda' thought she might have been, you know, showing off a bit at dinner, but I didn't want to say anything," he said with another quick glance at the empty doorway as if he were hoping for another glimpse of Margaret's barely concealed form. "That's great that you're so cool with it."
"Why wouldn't I be?" she shrugged, "I already said I think she's incredibly sexy – I can't blame you for noticing, especially since she seemed to want you to notice."
"Yeah, she sure did, huh?" Brad nodded. His eyes narrowed. "Was she – um, I mean it almost looked like she was – uh, you know, like, playing with herself for a minute there." His voice trailed off nervously.
"Oh you saw that, did you?" the seventh-grader asked, cocking her head. "Yeah, I caught that, too. I, um, I think maybe she didn't do that on purpose. I mean, yeah, she did it on purpose, but not like she was trying to let us see it. I think it was more like she was getting so turned on knowing what a sexy show she was giving us all and knowing we were all watching her that she just – couldn't help herself. I think maybe she'd secretly like to be a stripper."
"Well, I'd pay money to see that!" her young boyfriend blurted before realizing what he'd just said. "I mean, uh, oh shit! You know what I mean," he mumbled, embarrassed.
"S'okay," she laughed, adding with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, "Maybe sometime I can talk her into putting on the full show for you. Maybe we'd both do a strip-tease for you together. Would you like that?"
"Shit, yeah!" Brad breathed, awe-struck at the possibility.
"Well, I'll see what I can do, okay?" she promised with a laugh at his unabashed eagerness. "In the meantime, I've got one of those same gowns like my Mom's wearing tonight – she gave me a matching one. So maybe I'll wear it for you some time and see how you like it."
"All right," he sighed, a huge grin spreading over his cute, young face.
"It's a deal, then," the redhead smiled impishly before adding, "But you'd better go now, before my Mom has to come out here again. Unless that's what you were waiting for – just wanting one more chance to scope out her bod', huh?"
"Hey, you said you didn't mind," he pointed out. "But it's cool – I don't want you to get in trouble." He gave one final, longing glance up and down the length of her body before shaking his head as if he couldn't believe his good luck. "I can't wait for tomorrow."
"Me neither," Melissa agreed, and meant it. "Good night, Brad. See you tomorrow morning."
"Yeah, Steph and I'll be here, like, 8:15 or so, okay?" He turned and started down the porch steps.
"Okay. I hope you'll be able to sleep tonight, what with having to, you know, restrain yourself and all," she called out with a giggle.
He turned to face her from the walkway. "What? You don't think I can?" he challenged.
"We'll see," Melissa laughed. "Good night, baby."
"Good night, Melissa," he murmured softly before turning back down the walkway.
She stood watching him from the porch. He turned once more from the sidewalk and waved; she blew him a kiss in response which he returned before he walked away down the street. Finally, with a smile and a warm feeling of anticipation in her tummy, Melissa turned inside, closing the door and shutting off the porch light.
She was feeling good, very good in fact. Brad had been so sweet and so flattering – and so obviously desired her – that she had all but forgiven him for her earlier frustration. She felt that, no matter what else might happen, she was going to lose her virginity by the next afternoon and the thought left her with a delicious tingle in her still very wet pussy. She was so absorbed in her lewd musings that she was halfway up the stairs before she remembered about calling Stephanie.
"Shit, girl!" she muttered aloud to herself as she whirled and hurriedly made her way back down and scurried into the kitchen, "That would be all anyone would need – to have Brad walk in on Stephanie and John!" The thought that her best friend, now her lover, might have already lost her virginity instantly dampened Melissa's good mood. She felt a sharp twinge of jealousy as she dialed the Muller home, realizing that she had been picturing this call in her mind as one of comparing triumphs, the two of them reveling in becoming real women on the same day.
It galled her more than a little bit to have to acknowledge that she had failed in her mission, and she had to struggle to keep the jealousy and apprehension out of her voice when she heard John Muller answer, "Hello, John Muller."
Working to keep her voice neutral, Melissa said, "Hi, John, it's Melissa. Is Stephanie there?"
In a voice that had an odd quality to it, he answered, "Yes, of course. She's right here. It's Melissa, Stephanie," she heard him explain as he handed the phone handset to his daughter.
"Hey, lover, how's it goin'?" Stephanie's tone when she finally spoke into the phone was so close to a purr that Melissa instantly knew that her friend had been successful and had convinced her father to make love to her. She sounds exactly like I was hoping to be able to sound, Melissa realized.
"Oh, well, okay, I guess," the redhead responded, unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice any longer. "I just wanted to let you know that Brad just left my place, so he'll be there in, like, five minutes. Just in case you were, you know, doing something he shouldn't see," she added lamely.
"Oh! Okay, thanks. Just a minute," her friend said. Melissa could hear the girl quickly passing the message on to her father, whom she could hear swearing softly with a chuckle. There was the sound of hurried movement before Stephanie spoke once more. "Okay, I guess I'll have to get moving pretty quick here, too, but I've got a minute. So, yeah, he would have definitely seen something he shouldn't have if he walked in."
"So I take it everything went the way you planned?" Melissa asked, feeling her throat go suddenly dry.
"Well, not exactly as planned," her friend snorted, "But yeah, it all worked out. Mission accomplished, definitely. He took a little convincing – no, make that a LOT of convincing. But he finally came around. In fact he came around a couple of times, and he was starting to teach me how to suck his cock when you called."
"Jeez, Stephanie, is he still there in the room with you? He's okay with you telling me all this?" Melissa was feeling a flood of conflicting emotions – relief that her friend was well and happy, jealousy that she couldn't share the same experience, and lascivious interest in hearing such frank details of her best friend's sexual experience with her father.
"You bet he is," the dark-haired girl answered firmly. "I told him I was going to tell you – didn't I, Daddy?"
John Muller's voice suddenly and unexpectedly came on the phone. "That's right, Melissa, she did make it clear that she wasn't going to keep what we did a secret from you, especially," he added in a tone noticeably drier, "Since it sounds like you had a major hand in encouraging her in the first place."
Melissa gulped but held her ground, "Well, I just told her it seemed pretty obvious that the two of you wanted each other and that if it was what would make her happy, she should go for it."
"Well, she definitely went for it," the man chuckled. His voice turned serious, "But now I hope you understand just how much I'm relying on you and your discretion. Even more than what we talked about the other day, I'm trusting you with not only my life, but Stephanie's and Brad's as well. You understand?"
"Yes, John, I do," she answered, equally serious. "I would never do anything to betray or hurt any of you. I-I love you all very much," she blurted, realizing even as she said it that it was perfectly true. She did love the entire Muller family – everyone in it.
There was a startled pause before John responded softly, "We love you, too, Melissa. Here's Stephanie back – I've got to finish dressing."
"What did you say to my Dad?" Stephanie demanded when she returned to the phone. "You made him start to cry!"
"I just told him that I love you – all of you, I mean – your whole family," the redhead admitted. "And I do!"
"Wow!" her friend breathed. "That's so cool! So speaking of the rest of my family, how about you? Did you take poor Brad's virginity?"
"Uh, no, damn it all," Melissa acknowledged in a voice she couldn't prevent from being surly. "It- uh, oh, shit, it just didn't work out, that's all."
"Oh, lover, I'm so sorry," Stephanie was instantly sympathetic. "You want me to open a can of whup-ass up on him when he comes in?"
"No, no, nothing like that!" Melissa giggled in spite of herself at her friend's suggestion. "It's, uh, it's all good now. At least, it will be tomorrow afternoon. I made him promise to finish the job after school tomorrow – if that's okay with you, I mean."
"Shit, yeah! Of course it's okay," the dark-haired girl enthused. "Do I get to watch?" she asked, her voice growing huskier.
"Of course, my love!" Melissa exclaimed. "I was kinda' hoping you'd, you know, help, too," she added more softly.
"Oh, that's so cool! Definitely – we'll definitely take care of him then," Stephanie laughed. "My Dad's just looking at me and shaking his head. What?" she asked, apparently in response to something her father said that Melissa was unable to hear. "Oh, Dad, don't start to get all lame on me all over again!" There was another pause before the girl spoke again, "We'll talk later, okay, Dad? Now let me finish talking to Melissa – Brad's going to be here any minute, remember? Okay," she spoke directly into the phone once more, "Where were we?"
"You were telling me you were going to help me fuck your brother. And now you've spilled the beans to your dad and he's got a problem with that for some reason," Melissa said dryly.
"Oh, don't worry about him," her friend said dismissively. "He'll come around. I just have to explain the facts of life to him. Yeah, that's right, I mean you," she added, her voice fainter as she turned her head to address her father. "So are you going to be all right until then?" Stephanie asked, returning to the phone.
"Oh, sure, I'll be okay," Melissa shrugged. "And how about you? Are you, you know, I mean, did it hurt when your dad was inside you?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm actually okay," her friend answered in a somewhat wondering tone. "You were right – once I was turned on enough, fitting Monstro inside me turned out not to be a problem. He was a lot more worried about it than I was!" she added with a laugh. "He seemed to like it okay once he finally got started." Melissa had the impression the last comment was aimed as much at John as her.
"Well, I'm really, really glad you're okay, Steph," the redhead acknowledged, her voice only slightly wistful, "And I'm so glad you and your dad finally worked it all out and you both can finally relax a bit."
"Yeah, I guess you're right about that, huh?" Stephanie giggled.
"Hey, I'll let you go now, `cause Brad's got to be there by now, but there's one more thing..." said Melissa.
"Sure, what?"
"I made your brother promise not to jerk off any more until tomorrow afternoon. So if you hear him being naughty in the nighttime, you tell me, okay?" Melissa urged.
"Oh, ho! Sure, I can do that," Stephanie chortled wickedly. "Oh, shit!" she broke off suddenly. "There's the front door. Gotta go, love you, bye!"
And the phone went dead before her friend could hear Melissa whisper that she loved her, too.
Though she'd recovered a bit from her initial emotional distress, it was only when the phone began beeping at her insistently that she recovered her presence enough to hang up the receiver. Even after that, she stood motionless for a long time in the kitchen, trying to sort out her feelings. She no longer felt such a sharp pang of jealousy, and the admission that she was falling in love not only with Stephanie but with Stephanie's brother and father as well had left her mind whirling.
But more than anything else, hearing her friend's shameless and graphic discussion of having sex with her father – all with him right there in the room with her – had brought Melissa's own simmering arousal to a full boil. She realized she was incredibly horny, her pubescent lust pounding through her young body with an intensity that was almost aching. A quick touch between her legs confirmed her suspicion that her freely-flowing cunt juices had soaked clear through Brad's underpants and a wet patch was spreading rapidly across the material of her outer pants from her crotch and starting down her thighs.
Most of all, the desperately turned-on twelve-year-old couldn't imagine how she was going to get through another night if she had to listen to Keith and her mother fucking like wild animals and not including her.