You and Mom stand side-by-side at the sink, scrubbing dishes.
"I don't know what you're playing at... but it won't work!" she huffs.
"Geez. I can't just do something nice for you?"
"A twerp like you?" she laughs. "Let me fall over dead!"
You take the spray nozzle from the back of the sink and, with a flick of your wrist, nail her with a quick blast of warm water.
"Alabaster--!" she shrieks. Looking down at her soaked-through bikini top, her angry expression turns to a devious grin. She feints to the side, distracting you long enough to snatch the nozzle from you, and blasts you back in kind.
Dripping wet and annoyed, you barrel into her, tackling her to the ground. She cries out, laughing, as you you pin her under you.
"You brat!" she squeals.
"Be quiet, hey--" you grab both her wrists in one hand to keep her from hitting you. Reaching into the pocket of your swim trunks, you produce the teak jewelery box.
"For you," you say.
You lean back and let Mom take the box in her hands. She goes completely silent as she sits upright, examining it.
Her fingers are trembling as she opens the lid.
"You remembered..." she says.
"So how old are you today?" you ask. "Like 104 or something, right?"
Mom reddens and kicks you in the shin. "You're unbelievably crass!" But then, pulling the necklace from the case and holding in front of her: "this is beautiful..."
"Sorry it's not something more. Short notice-- I swear I had something much fancier hidden under my bed before the house went up in smoke..."
"Yeah right," she says. She unclasps the necklace and strings it around her delicate throat.
"Is it okay?" you ask.
"I love it."
She fixes you with a dewy gaze. "I know this isn't proper-- but-- can I sleep with you tonight?"
"--Excuse me?"
"O-only because your father's snoring keeps waking me up! That's all!"
"Don't slander my father. He sleeps like an angel."
Mom grouses, looking away.
"Let's go. The dishes can wait for tomorrow." You take her by the hand.
You drift wordlessly to your bedroom together. Her quivering, dainty hand is warm in you palm.
There's something freeing about dropping the facade. As you patter softly across the carpet of your bedroom and lie down, you both know what's about to happen, and neither of you are putting up fake insults to resist it.
You lie down. She curls up beside you.
"You've been having sex with other girls in here, haven't you," she says. "It's in the air..."
"Yeah."
"And with Vivian earlier today, too... in broad daylight, no less."
"Yeah."
"What am I going to do with you? A girl that young has no idea what she's doing."
"Well, that's sort of the appeal..."
She clucks in disapproval.
You run a hand through her hair and pull her in, kissing her on the lips. And there's something to be said for the methods of an experienced woman, too. Your nostrils fill with her flowery scent as her tongue dances across your mouth. Your past month or so of experience -- while extensive -- can't compete. She has you completely outclassed, so you decide to surrender to her while you can. Her lips, tongue, and even the pace of her breath, ravish your pliant mouth. She does exactly what she wants with you.
"I've waited so long for this..." she sighs, finally and completely honest.
You slide a hand under the straps of her bikini top and pull them down. She helps, wiggling out of the garment and letting it bunch around her belly. You admire her round, full, heavy breasts with their firm dark nipples, so tender and soft.
"You can... suck on them-- i-if that's the kind of perverted thing that excites you..."
You cusp one of her breasts lightly and draw the nipple into your mouth, pulling on it with forceful suction. It's warm and tantalizing against your roaming tongue. You half expect -- and sort of want -- her milk to pour down your throat. It would be warm and sweet like sugar, but nothing comes out despite your best efforts.
She reaches down between you and pulls at the hem of your trunks.
"Let me see it..." she purrs.
Just as she helped you, you help her, kicking off the nylon swimwear. You roll onto your back, lying before her, completely naked and painfully hard.
Mom props herself up on one elbow and stares admiringly at your member. It twitches and drools a tiny strand of precum on your stomach.
"It's so big," she says. "My son's manhood..."
She reaches out and clasps it in her hand, tugging the foreskin deliciously back and forth, smearing the glans with the slimy precum. Involuntarily, she licks her lips.
"Can we..." she starts, but trails off.
"You're the birthday girl," you say. "And besides, you're supposed to be showing me how it's done, right?"
Mom smiles. She pulls down her bikini bottom. But instead of throwing it aside, she holds it up, dangling it in front of your face. The crotch is sodden and darkly stained. You can smell her special scent -- it's like a combination of your own genital musk and your sister's, fittingly enough. It's intoxicating. It makes your eyes cross.
"Look," she says. "Look how wet you made your mother... you make me this wet every single day. That's not fair, is it? You need to treat me better."
She sets the bikini bottom aside and rolls onto you, straddling your waist.
It feels different than you expected as she rubs her cunt lips against your swollen cock. You look down, and your jaw hangs open in surprise.
"I did that for you," she says. "Do you like it, darling?"
Her pussy is shaved completely bare -- it's as smooth as little Vivian's was. Her pussy lips in all their pink glory wrap wetly around your member, gliding up and down with barely any friction.
"It's--" you choke.
She reaches down and takes your hands in hers. Kissing you in the precise opposite way a woman should kiss her son, she allows her saliva to mix with yours and her tongue to once more explore your wanting mouth.
"Perverted woman," you say.
"So you like it, then?" she asks, rubbing herself against you indecently, her arousal coating your dick.
"It's great ...You're great."
She smiles.
"This cunt is yours now," she says. You inhale sharply at these words. "Use it whenever you want. Please-- use it every day..."
She slides up the length of your cock so the head is positioned at her welcoming entrance. And then, cooing wantonly, she fucks your prick inside of her, taking the entire length in one hard thrust.
You grunt. Her hands clasp yours tightly and she nuzzles your neck.
"Mmm-- we fit together so well... don't you think?"
"Yes," you moan. The folds and crevices of her interior walls perfectly cradle your churning cock. You pump as she bounces atop you, stirring up her lewd insides. Her firm calf muscles and belly strain with the exertion. Sweat coils down her body.
"Am I better than those other silly girls?" she asks.
You shower her with open-mouth kisses and tender groans of affection, but she presses the issue. With her cunt rhythmically massaging your aching, needful cock, she asks again: "am I better?"
"Yes... yes, you're better... you're the best--"
"Alabaster!" she cries, cumming herself. "I love you!"
"I love you, too--"
"Cum inside of me! I want all of it inside of me! Ahhhnnnn~~"
You clasp her soft, pliable butt and force her down, holding her in place. She bites her lips so hard they bleed and wags her hips back and forth like a fucking dog as she orgasms around you, again and again and again.
"Mom--" you pant. "Mom, I'm gonna--"
"Do it! Do it!"
You cry with sweet release as your cock flexes, pulses, and ejaculates inside your mother's hot cunt. You fill her with your incestuous seed. You cum with such force that you can actually hear the muffled spurt of the creamy explosion. The cum dribbles out around you, all over her pussy lips and your balls, as you share a deep, dreamy, loving kiss.
GIRLS FUCKED: 5/6
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!
You wake to the obnoxious squawk of seagulls and the glare of tropical sun streaming through your sheer satin curtains.
The one saving grace is Mom's arms and legs wrapped snugly around you, cuddling you close to her warm and buxom figure. You could lie against that softness forever.
Like Cerise, she has a bad habit of kicking you in her sleep, but you're slowly learning to sleep through it too.
Whitney is sitting in a wicker chair in the corner when you come to.
"Incest is wrong, you know," Whitney says, smiling.
"So is coming into someone's room unannounced. How long have you been there?"
She shrugs. "About an hour. You Soliloquys sleep so late. I came here for a midmorning quickie but you were so cute all cuddled up with Mrs. Soliloquy like that, I figured I'd watch you for a while. It's peaceful."
You pull away from Mom's sleeping form and sit up in bed.
"Do you think I'll have a body that rockin' when I'm 97, too?" Whitney asks.
"One can only hope."
Whitney looks down and grabs her mosquito bites in either hand, pushing them together and creating a rather pitiful faux cleavage in her bikini top. "I wonder if these will grow once I'm pregnant."
"Once you're--" you sputter.
But Whitney changes the subject before you have time to object. "You keep breaking rule 1..." she pouts, looking back up at you. "...Oversexed motherfucker."
You doubt she even realizes her pun. "I never agreed to your rules," you say.
"Well, I'm making one more," she says. She stands up. "Rule 5: no rules."
"You're not very bright, are you?"
"But-- only with us-- err--" she stops to count on her fingers. "--Only with us six. No holds barred. And I'm changing rule 1, too. You have to let me join in whenever I want. No questions!"
"Allow me to reiterate: I agree to nothing."
"It's settled, then." She climbs onto the bed and looms over Mom, shadowing her.
"Ally, let's give her a massage."
"We aren't fucking her if she doesn't want it," you warn Whitney as she takes Mom's fleshy calf in her palms.
"Oh please. I'm not some kind of sex pervert. Besides...." she trails off and grins dreamily. "I jilled off in that chair a few times thinking about you two fucking each other, so I'm set for now."
"Not a sex pervert. Right."
Mom snaps into consciousness from Whitney's ministrations on her calf muscles. She sits bolt upright, looking down at Whitney's dextrous hands and impish face.
"Good morning, Mrs. Soliloquy."
"W-what are you--" she says. You quickly position yourself behind her and grip her at the union of shoulder and neck, pressing your thumbs into the bundle of muscle fibers that you recall from anatomy as the superior trapezius. See: cramming for quiz bowl can pay off.
Mom's face melts, her lips going all trembly and her face slackening from the dual sensations of you and Whitney double-teaming her. Looking over Mom's shoulder and down to her pale crotch, you can see her cream-spattered pussy begin to glisten with arousal.
"Your muscles are really tense, Mrs. Soliloquy. Are you stressed?"
"Y-you awful children are-- you're assaulting me-eeee--" she moans.
Whitney works her wandering hands up and down, exploring Mom's fleshy thighs, bulging calves, arched feet, and pear-shaped hips. She doesn't seem to have a definite pattern to her massage and probably doesn't know how to properly administer one. No matter. You're no maseuse, either. This is all just a pretext to lovingly grope her, anyway.
There's something deliciously perverted about molesting your mother with your girlfriend joining in. So sure, Whitney is a sex pervert -- you wouldn't have her any other way.
Mom throws her head back, cradling the back of her head against your shoulder. Her silky hair tickles you all over as you work her shoulders, neck, and back.
"S-stop-- stop--" she pleads powerlessly, but there are no brakes on this train.
Whitney's fingers draw nearer and nearer to Mom's cum-filled cunt every time she reaches the upward apex of her massage.
And then suddenly, despite her promise not to, she buries her face in her pussy. Her nose touches Mom's fat clit and you can hear the sound of her wagging tongue siphoning your cum from Mom's ravaged body. Mom bites the side of her hand to keep from squealing.
"Alabaster--" she groans, but doesn't finish the thought.
"Your pussy's so warm, Mrs. Soliloquy..." Whitney purrs. "Ally, turn her over."
You guide her down so she lies on her stomach. Mom's fat bottom and barest hint of lovehandles are somehow even lewder in contrast to Whitney's boyish figure. Whitney climbs onto her, lying tummy-to-back, and spreads Mom's luscious ass cheeks as wide as they'll go. The look on Whitney's face when she reveals her pulsing rosebud is like a little kid given a lifetime supply of candy.
Whitney dives in in and suckles, poking her slimy tongue into a probing tip. She moans sensually to herself as she orally molests her. She laps at her ass, perineum, and the bottom of her sopping pussy in long, slow, drooling strokes. Mom bites her pillow and tries to squirm away, but Whitney has her pinned.
"Mmmmf--" Whitney heaves, licking and sucking hungrily. At random intervals, she slaps Mom's ass. You watch the flesh of her butt jiggle with milky waves every time it happens, the surface slowly turning red under Whitney's assault.
You can't help yourself. You grip Mom by the hair and turn her face to the side, rubbing your horny cock against her flushed cheeks and full lips.
"Your dyke girlfriend is raping me..." she says. "Aren't you going to do something... ungf~... about-- unnnn~~"
She gulps hard as ripples of pleasure course through her.
"You like it, don't you? We can stop if you want."
"T-that's not the point-- you... you s-stupid..."
Even despite her weakening protest, she reaches out and takes your throbbing dick in her hands. You let go of your shaft and let her soft, damp palms work you. She jerks you off against her sweat-sheened face as Whitney's tongue works its magic on her from behind.
Maybe it's hereditary. You climax at the same moment she does. Mom practically shrieks as she cums herself silly, her jaw hanging open and making the perfect target out of her warm, inviting mouth. You push forward and lay your cockhead against her tongue, grunting as she milks rope after rope of semen directly into the back of her throat. She swallows it like ambrosia, savoring the taste. A few stray strands land on her chin and lips, which she dutifully scoops up and licks down as well.
There are few sensations better than relieving yourself in your own mother's mouth.
Whitney pulls Mom onto her back and shares a long, passionate kiss with her. A kiss Mom returns. Whitney's tongue roots around in her mouth as if trying to lick up the vestiges of your essence from here, as well. At the same time, Whitney paws and fondles Mom's enormous breasts. So much for this massage being chaste.
Whitney leaves Mom a twitchy, shuddering mess by the time she heads out to enjoy some sun on Gustav's beach.
You stay behind for a several more minutes to pick up where Whitney left off, tonguing wetly with Mom on your bed. You can taste the faintest hint of yourself in her mouth, but it's not unpleasant: it just adds to the wanton sensation of taboo. You lie atop her, practically smothered in her breasts and fleshy body, nursing on her tongue. Your still erect cock is nestled against her tummy, drooling precum into her navel.
And hey -- the massage actually worked, after all: Mom's muscles are loose and limber now. She lies limply on the bed, hardly able to move, and certainly not able to stand. Her pussy is engorged and coated in Whitney's thick saliva -- her inner thighs and ass, too. You know from experience how obscenely sloppy Whitney's blowjobs are, and her muff-diving isn't any different.
You finally stand. You walk to the window. From the bed, Mom stammers: "y-you'll be doing that again, right? -- N-not that I enjoyed it! I just... I just need to know so I can prepare myself for your awful abuse in the future..."
You grin. "We'll be doing lots more together."
Behind you, Mom whimpers.