There's a soft knock on the door, and Charlotte, wearing an elegant white gown of her own, pokes her head in. When she sees you, she squeals: "aahhhh! Oh my goodness!"
She barges in, arms held wide, and draws you into a tender hug.
The door wide open, in comes Mom as well -- she's in a flowing red dress that fits her perfectly. Not just because of her name, either. Her form fills it so nicely.
"How's Rose?" Saul asks his wife.
Charlotte pulls away from you, still clasping your shoulders. "Oh, she's an absolute wreck. How's Alabaster?"
"Wreck," Saul affirms.
"Just perfect." She finally turns to face her husband. "She wanted to see you a bit before you walk her down the aisle. She'd never admit to such a disgustingly patriarchal impulse, but I think she needs daddy to tell her that he approves..."
"I don't approve, is the thing..." Saul says.
"Saul." Charlotte's voice is icy.
"Yes. Of course, dear. I approve completely."
He goes.
Charlotte spins and faces you again. "Aaaahhhh! You're so handsome!"
Mom has a hand to her cheek, blushing. "I can't believe this. I never thought this day would come."
"Isn't it divine?" Charlotte says.
"Wonderful."
"Absolutely spectacular!"
The two woman surround you, and somehow, you feel like you're trapped in a den of wolves.
You glance at Mom, and try small talk. "Did you have any trouble with the cake?"
She puts her hands on her hips, haughty. "What! Of course I didn't. Unlike you, I can bake a simple cake. And making it into tiers is child's play. No need to thank me, Alabaster!"
"Thank you," you say anyway. And: "I love you, Mom."
Mom blinks in surprise. "I-- why-- ...you little brat!"
"What. I THANKED you. I said I love you! How is that--"
"You're not supposed to be grateful and nice! You're supposed to be snitty and sarcastic! Changing it up at the most critical moment is a calculated attempt to get under my skin! You rude little jerk!"
You can only shake your head in bewilderment.
"Do you need help with your tie, dear?" Charlotte offers.
"No! I don't need help with my goddamn tie! Fuck!"
Charlotte looks hurt, so you calm yourself, and say: "Sorry. I'm just a bit on edge, at the moment. I -- love you too, Mom."
Calling Charlotte "Mom" is the surest way to win brownie points. And it works like a charm. She smiles warmly. "I love you too."
"Well I love you more," Mom says -- returning the sentiment a little late. "And I loved you first."
"Don't make this into an argument, Scarlett. We both love the little brat. We can share..."
"Hmmm," she murmurs, unconvinced.
Charlotte embraces you from behind. Up close, you can smell her perfume, similar to the kind Rose wears, but thicker, more earthen.
The way she hugs you feels very unmotherly. And even Mom, your real Mom, can sense it.
"Charlotte..." she says.
"Do you have some final preparations to make with the cake?" Charlotte asks her. "I can keep Alabaster company until it's time for him to go stand at the altar, don't worry."
Mom meets your eyes. "Alabaster?" She asks you.
You shrug. "I'll be okay. If there's something you need to finish -- I'll see you there -- or --"
"No, that's fine..." Mom says. "Charlotte is right. I'll... see you at the altar, dear."
She hugs you from the front, and for a brief moment you're sandwiched between two moms. It's not unpleasant.
"I do love you," Mom says softly. "I... I'm sorry if sometimes it isn't clear."
"It's clear," you tell her. "Is it -- always clear, the other way?"
Her eyes are full of tears, but she's smiling, and she nods.
"Good," you say.
She kisses you on the cheek, and goes.
Alone again with Charlotte, who's still hugging you, and swaying a bit, you clear your throat awkwardly.
"Did you pass on my advice to Rose, dear?" She asks.
"I'm not sure what you mean."
"Oh, you know what I mean. For her to start giving you tit fucks. That advice."
Your mouth goes dry. You stammer and gawk.
"Well~?"
"Um... y-yeah. Actually. Yeah."
Honesty is the best policy, right?
"Oh my. You're such a horny boy, aren't you? Well? Did she do it?"
You nod slowly. You're keenly aware of Charlotte's own tits pressed up against your back right now.
"How was it? Compared to my tit fuck."
You stare at the ceiling and shake your head. But again, honesty: "Not as good... yours was better."
She kisses you on the cheek. She liked hearing that.
"Don't worry, honey. She'll learn. You just have to keep on top of her... pun intended."
"Oh my god."
"What I'm more concerned about is... since you're marrying my little girl now... when you have sex with her, does she orgasm?"
"What?"
"When you fuck my daughter, do you make her cum?"
"Mrs. Mallory--"
"Please call me mom. Or mommy."
"I-- yes. She cums. We -- have a lot of fun together."
She rubs her cheek to yours. "I don't know if I trust that."
"Why on earth would I lie?"
"It's not that you're a liar, dear. But every man always says that. They THINK it's true, but it's not." She puts on her impression of a monkey-like male chauvinist: "'Oh yeah, I toootally make her cum. I make her cum every night! Snoooore.' -- meanwhile the poor woman's buying Duracells like she holds stock in the company. That isn't what you're inflicting on Rose, is it?"
"No. Trust me. Rose has plenty of fun with me."
"I think... I think you should prove it."
You try to break loose of her iron grip, but doing so only makes her hold you tighter. You feel perilously close to getting raped here.
"No son of mine is going to leave any daughter of mine unsatisfied. Rose and I are alike, so if you can satisfy me... then it would really put my mind at ease... you'll do that for me, won't you, Alabaster?"
"Satisfy you..." you repeat.
"Yes. Do I need to say it more plainly? Satisfy my pussy. Pump me full of cock and make me cum. Just like you do with my girl. Make me cum on your cock, Alabaster... and I'll be perfectly happy to let you marry Rose."
She's kissing you again and again on the cheek, planting lipstick all over your face, as she says these impossibly lewd things to you. There's no way out. And with your cock stiffening in your tuxedo's trousers, you no longer want there to be. You let her guide you to a chair in the corner. The fact that you're about to fuck your bride's own mother -- who's as good as your mother, too -- and biologically, your cousin -- in a church, right before you get married -- is something that should dissuade you. It only encourages you.
You sit down, and Charlotte looms over you. She rubs your chest. "You're already doing it raw, right? Cumming inside her, I mean -- no condoms?"
"No condoms," you say. "Never. I actually don't even know how to put a condom on."
"Okay, you're doing that right, at least. Make sure to keep doing that. And take her off birth control, for godsakes, if she's on it. I want you two making babies right away, Alabaster!"
"Jesus."
She hitches up the runner of her slim gown and tugs down her panties. Then she does something you couldn't have expected. She puts them over your head -- like a hat -- and pulls them so they cover your eyes. Like this, you're blindfolded. You reach up to remove the panties from your head, but Charlotte swats your hand. "No! Pretend I'm Rose, Alabaster. Fuck me like you'd fuck her."
You think she probably doesn't understand exactly what she's asking of you. Or maybe she does.
Charlotte's feminine scent inundates your nostrils and although it's similar to Rose's, it's deeper -- the same way their perfumes nearly match, but not quite. Maybe this is what you have to look forward to as you grow older with her.
Charlotte pulls your cock from your pants. She settles in your lap, legs astride you, and lowers herself down. You see none of it. You're blind, and can understand what's happening only by sense of touch, aided by imagination. But the now quite familiar sensation of a pussy swallowing your dick is unmistakable. You're fucking your adoptive mother's hot, mature cunt. Your jaw hangs open and you moan deeply, savoring that warm moist sliding of her walls against the skin of your prick.
"Just by -- size alone --" Charlotte says, voice breathy, but silken, "--you're half of the way there... a dick like this... is such a prize..."
She puts her hands on your shoulders.
"But of course," she adds, "you still need to use it right."
"Ungh--" you grunt.
She grunts back: "FUCK me."
You grope blindly for her body, and, finding her hips, you wrap your hands around them. You fuck her. You would never disobey Mrs. Mallory, of course, so you do her just like she told you to. The same way you'd fuck Rose. You pound her up and down on your horny cock like her body is a cocksleeve. You can feel her go limp, muscles loosening, but her motherly cunt is tightening. Her teeth chatter.
"Y-yes--y-esss--oh god, honey... fuck, that's good..."
You're not done. You stand with her. You stand all the way upright, holding her. Then taking a couple steps forward, you topple purposely with her to the ground. You get her on her back with a hard thud, and lie atop her right there on the floor of the church. She makes a pained "unff--" and then the wind gets knocked from her with the weight of you pressing down. And, burying your cock into the oh so inviting depths of her pussy, you begin to REALLY pound her. You're brutal, unmerciful, and selfish. She asked you to show her how you do it with her daughter. So you're showing her.
She runs her hands through the hair on the back of your head and writhes beneath you. At first she can't form any words other than: "Y-yess -- oh, yessss!" But then, gulping for breath, she manages: "Fuck me, Alabaster! Fuck my slut mommy pussy!"
Hard to imagine she's Rose when she's drilling it into your head that she's your mom. Not that you're complaining.
Her voice is high and shrill and full of perverted need. "That's it! Put your fucking cock in me! Fuck your mommy! Oh GOD, you need to cum so bad, don't you? Don't stop!"
You nestle your head against her neck and enjoy the raw sensation of rutting inside her. But her command not to stop comes up against an obstacle when you hear a voice behind you gasp: "Charlotte?"
You tug Charlotte's panties off your head. You look back over your shoulder. Mom is standing there gawking at the lewd scene. You try in vain to pull out of Charlotte's wet cunt, but her ankles locked around your butt prevent the attempt.
Mom's lip quavers. "What are you doing?"
"What does it look like, Scarlett? I'm fucking your boy. Or... he's fucking me..."
She rocks her hips up and down, teasing you -- keeping you hard and trying to impel you to keep going. It's hard to resist.
"Alabaster... how could you?"
"I--" you gulp, and try not to focus on the pleasurable, hot wet sensations Charlotte is milking from your dick. You try to will yourself to go soft, but you can't. And you're still unbelievably horny. You need to fuck... to cum... and so your hips begin to move on their own.
So it's not a joke or a cliche, then. That really happens. Huh.
"See?" Charlotte says, almost mockingly. "He's just a very needy boy. I'm only taking care of him. It's fine, don't worry about it..."
You're too ashamed of yourself to look at your mother, so you just nestle your face back against Charlotte's neck and keep fucking her. Charlotte pets you soothingly, arms wrapped around you head. She rocks in time to your jackhammer thrusts.
"If there's a problem, we can talk about it later," Charlotte tells her. "But for now, you can leave us be, right? I don't think your boy is going to stop... and you wouldn't want to see him make a mess inside my pussy, would you?"
You expect Mom to storm out of the room, but you don't hear her retreating. And you can sense her eyes boring into your back. Even still, despite her audience, you keep fucking Charlotte.
"Or you can stay and watch, if you prefer," Charlotte says. Her cunt makes slurping, slapping noises while you rail her.
You hear a soft jostling noise, and sense that mom is sitting down in the chair where you were so recently fucking Charlotte. "Do you two... always do this?"
"N-no," you grunt, voice muffled, still fucking.
"I'm just making sure he can keep my baby girl satisfied..." Charlotte says grinningly. "I had to test it myself. You understand."
Mom gulps. "C-can he? Do you think?"
"Oh, yes... oh, yes, VERY much..."
You hear Mom try, and fail, to stifle a small moan.
"Masturbate, Scarlett."
"W-what?"
"Masturbate while you watch your son fuck me."
You almost cum right then. And again when, a few moments later, you hear Mom lifting the hem of her dress. What she does after that, she keeps well quiet -- but somehow, despite not looking, you can tell she's got her legs spread wide, and her cunt out in the open, and her fingers inside it.
"Hmmm hmm~" Charlotte laughs.
"I'm gonna -- I'm gonna -- " you exhale.
"Shhh. That's okay, baby. You go right ahead. You get all the cum out of that big leaky cock of yours, okay?"
Behind you, Mom hisses.
And in front of you, Charlotte sighs.
And down in your groin, you feel that wonderful, sick rush, like going into freefall, your orgasm racing up the length of your pistoning cock. Here it comes: a thick, creamy load, right in Charlotte's hungry pussy. She says she does this for your sake, or Rose's -- you know the truth. She wants your cum in her purely for her OWN sake. She's a fucking slut. She's a dirty slut for your big cumming dick. So, you give her precisely what she wants. You ejaculate inside her, as she cums on you, and behind you, watching, your mother cums as well.
GIRLS FUCKED: 14/12