When I woke up, I was flat on my back, with Aunt Karen laying beside me; she had one leg draped across both of mine and her hand was under the sheet, which was pulled up to our waists, holding my dick. I couldn't see her face, just the top of her head, which was sort of laying on my chest.
Deciding I could get used to waking up to a naked woman stroking my stiffening dick, I stroked Aunt Karen's bare back. She responded by squeezing my dick and bending so that her head moved a few inches down my torso and closer. She was going to suck me, again! At least, that what it seemed like. I moved my hand from her back to the top of her head and, sure enough, she turned and rolled, pulling her knees under her to sort of kneel, curled forward, at my side, with her head just above my cock, which she had pushed the sheet off of.
Aunt Karen was holding my dick in her fist, pointing it straight up, and was lowering her head, with her mouth open, when Mom came into the bedroom.
"Kristin is gone."
Mom's flat declaration made both of us look her way. She was standing in the open bedroom door, watching us. And she was dressed. Completely dressed, in Capri pants and a short sleeved, button down top. I hadn't seen her fully dressed in two days; it seemed sort of odd.
I didn't really comprehend what she had actually said until Aunt Karen suddenly released my dick and, jumping back, away from me, pulled the sheet up to cover herself.
"Gone?" Aunt Karen asked.
"Yes," Mom nodded, gravely.
"What about the movies?"
"She said she would destroy them."
"Do you believe her?" Aunt Karen was out of the bed, now, wrapping the sheet around her body like a sarong.
Mom shrugged. "What can we do, if she lied?"
"But she's really gone?"
Mom nodded.
"What happened?"
"I got up to use the bathroom and, when I was done, Kristin called me out into the lounge. She was already dressed and had her bags packed. She pulled these clothes," Mom looked down at herself, "out of my suitcase and made me put them on. The two of us took her bags downstairs, to where a cab was waiting. She said… She said she had some sort of emergency. She said she would destroy the videos and that we should enjoy the rest of our vacation. She… She's gone."
Mom turned away and went back out to the front room.
"Just like that?" Aunt Karen gave me a single glance and hurried out to follow Mom.
I admit it. I was disappointed. There was a whole list of things that Kristin had pretty much said she was going to make us do. And now we never would. Not unless… Maybe one or both of them would decide that, now that the ice had been broken, we might as well continue to fool around, at least for the rest of our time in Panama.
Mom stuck her head back into the bedroom and said, "You should take a shower."
Judging by the way she looked at my naked body and said, "And for the love of all that's holy, please put on some clothes," I could pretty well guess that the sexy times were over for good. I would never have sex with either one of them, again. I would never get to touch them, or even see their naked bodies. I had seen the last of their tits. It was thoroughly depressing.
As it turned out, I was almost, but not quite completely, right.
Mom and Aunt Karen sat down with me, on the evening that Kristin left, and explained that, even though all three of us had been forced to ignore our natural inhibitions, now that Kristin was gone, such behavior was no longer necessary and would not continue. Both were very somber, during our conversation, and I did my best not to stare at the wonderful tits I now knew were hidden under their clothes.
And then, the next afternoon, right after lunch, we went back to the beach. The very same beach that Kristin had forced us to lay out on.
"The thing is, Danny," Mom explained, when she saw the expression on my face, when I realized where the taxi had dropped us off, "there's not much point of hiding what you've already seen. And, now that I'm starting to see some results, I like not having any tan lines. Of course, if it bothers you…"
I was a young man, with my whole life ahead of me. But, no matter what I do or how long I live, high of the list of things I will ever accomplish will be keeping my eyes focused above Mom's shoulders, as I shook my head, and saying, "No, I don't mind," without my voice cracking.
Mom nodded, gravely. Acting as if it were a perfectly normal thing to do, she untied the single strap that held up the floral beach cover-up that she was wearing, letting the light garment fall to her feet. She bent to pick it up, draped it over one arm and, untying the strap behind her back first, and then the one behind her neck, removed her bikini top.
My topless mother walked across the fairly crowded beach, carrying the bag with our towels, and looking for an open space big enough for the three of us, seemingly oblivious to the stares her impressive anatomy drew from more than a few of the other sun-worshipers there.
I turned away, when I saw motion in the corner of my eye. Aunt Karen had let her cover-up drop to the sand, as well. She blushed, when she saw me turn my attention to her, but, with a shrug and a smile, quickly removed her own top before bending over to pick up her dress.
"Shall we join her?" she asked, as I was burning the memory of her swaying, pendulous breasts into every cell of my brain.
I swallowed, but couldn't speak. I had had sex with both of them; I had seen and touched every bit of their bodies. I had even licked the very best parts. But, now that they were denied to me, the sight of them made my heart pound and my throat tighten up.
The same was true, ten days later. I spent several hours, every afternoon, trying not to get caught staring at their bare tits and their barely covered asses. I failed, more often than not but all Mom ever did, when she caught me, was to scowl and roll her eyes. Aunt Karen usually blushed but, as her skin darkened, that became more and more difficult to see.
And that was all that happened. Away from the beach, we all dressed in typical tourist garb. We spent our time out of the sun swimming in the hotel's pool, where they both wore both halves of their bikinis, or seeing some of the sights of the island or just sitting in the lounge chairs on the patio, outside of our room, and reading.
We spent the last day of our vacation on the mainland. We checked into a hotel in Panama City, took a tour of the canal and went to bed early, to get up in time to catch an early flight back to Miami and, about twelve hours later, finally get into our car at the Des Moines, Iowa, airport.
Life was back to normal. The only thing that seemed to have changed was the color of Mom's and Aunt Karen's skin. We dropped Aunt Karen off at her house, on the way home, Mom did the laundry and, the next morning, got up and went to work.
Aunt Karen continued to stop by our house, two or three times a week, to eat with us or just to hang out and watch TV. Mom went to work, every day, and I did my chores.
My second year of high-school started, about a month after we came home. There were more than a thousand girls, in my school. Hundreds of them were pretty, dozens were exceptionally so, and quite a few were genuinely beautiful. But, when I lay in bed, at night, and jerked off before going to sleep, there were only two women that I fantasized about.
I had come in Aunt Karen's hand, throat and pussy. I had come in Mom's pussy twice in one afternoon, and in her ass once. I had some pretty fucking amazing memories, but Kristin had hinted about all the things she was going to make us do with, and to, each other. Even though she was pretty hot and I'd licked and even fucked her, Kristin never even made a cameo appearance in my fantasies. They were all centered around the things that I had fully expected I would be doing, before she left so suddenly.
One afternoon, in the middle of October, I was sitting around the house after school, when Mom got home from work. Immediately, she started to bitch at me. She bitched because I hadn't taken out the trash, even though it was less than half full. She bitched because my homework wasn't done, even though I still had the whole weekend ahead of me. She bitched about the chores that I wasn't even supposed to do, until the next morning.
She was stomping away, grumbling about how slow her computer was and that it was probably my fault, when my patience wore out. I opened my mouth and was just about to say something sarcastic that would only get me into more trouble when, for some reason, I completely shifted mental gears.
"Mom, what's wrong?"
Mom froze, in the door between the kitchen and the family room.
"You don't want to know."
"I do." I sounded sincere because, somewhat to my own surprise, I was. "Tell me what's bothering you. Maybe I can help."
Mom seemed undecided. She stood, with her back to me, for several long seconds.
Finally, unable to think of anything else to do, I said, "I love you."
The tension drained out of her. I hadn't really been aware of how hunched up her shoulders were until they sagged down to a more normal, relaxed position.
When she turned around, she wasn't crying, but she looked like she might.
"Do you really want to know what's wrong?"
I nodded. "Yes, I do."
With a sigh, Mom pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and sat down, facing me.
"We laid of sixty-eight people, today. Sixty-eight. And I had to tell every one of them. It was so…so easy, on paper. But when they came into my office… They were real people, with real families and real problems and I had to just sit there, across the desk from each one, and tell them about their newest problem. And, except for the first two or three, they all knew." Mom closed her eyes and shuddered. "I hate my job."
"Are you going to look for something else?"
Mom nodded, gravely. "But there's not much out there. And looking for a job is always so stressful."
"Is there anything I can do?"
Mom slowly shook her head, a few times, then stopped to look at me, her forehead creasing in thought.
"There might be something…"
"What? I'll be sixteen, in a couple of weeks. I can get a job, to bring in some more money, if that will help. Or I can help out more at home. Or…"
Leaning forward, Mom reached out and laid a finger on my lips.
"Nothing as bad as that. I just… There's something you did, once. If you could do that, again. It would… It would help so much."
"Sure," I said, even though Mom's finger was still pressed to my lower lip. "Whatever you need."
I racked my brain, trying to figure out what I had ever done for her that could be of any help, now.
Mom gave me a timid smile and, taking her hand away from my face, stood. She went to the pantry and came back with a bottle of oil. It was the good stuff – extra virgin olive oil imported from Italy. Mom paid something like twenty dollars, for just a small bottle, and only ever used it to drizzle on salads or to finish off some fancy recipes.
"What's this for?" I asked.
Instead of answering, Mom stepped back and took off her jacket. She was still dressed in the woman's suit she had worn to work, with a charcoal-gray, narrow, knee-length skirt, and a matching jacket, which she carefully draped over the back of a chair.
To my surprise, she unzipped the skirt, pushed it down to her knees and, bending over, stepped out of it. Wearing her blouse and a short, beige slip, Mom turned to face the table. She spread her feet apart, bent over at the waist and laid her crossed arms on the edge of the table. Turning her head towards me, she laid her face on her arms and said three words that, despite our experiences in Panama, were very near the top of any list of things I would least have expected to hear.
"Fuck my ass."
(continued…)
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/1jtdji/vacation_part_8_of_8_mf_mff_inc_motherson
(…continuing) It wasn’t a demand, but a request in a tone of voice that was almost pleading. "Are you sure?" "Why?" "Now?" "Really?" "Who are you and what have you done with my mother?" Those questions and a million more spun through my head. But my head had no real say in the matter. At least, not the one on my shoulders. I stood, and, without asking any of my questions or saying a single word, pulled Mom’s slip up to reveal her thighs and, ultimately, her ass. My mother never went to work without pantyhose. She wore shorts and dresses, around the house, with bare legs, but she had entered the workforce in the early nineties, and, even after two weeks of tanning in the tropical sun, still wore pantyhose to work. Or at least I thought she did. We had been living in the same house for my entire life, I had often seen old, damaged pairs in the trash and had seen the packages she brought home from the store. But when I raised her slip, I discovered that she was wearing thigh-high stockings, instead. And that wasn’t all. She was also wearing a thong. A narrow strip of fabric covered the bulge of Mom’s vulva and a thin strip, not much more than a string, ran up between the lily-white cheeks over her ass. Above the tops of her stockings, the remnants of Mom’s tan, faded to about half of what it had been, when we returned from Panama, helped set off the extra-pale flesh of her butt. I flipped her skirt up, over her waist, and lightly stroked Mom’s ass. She twitched, like a racehorse, and sighed. "Are you sure this is okay?" I asked, stroking the black cord that bisected her globes. "Yes!" Mom sighed. "You told me it hurt, last time," I reminded her. "I know. It did. It hurt so good. Hurt me, again, Danny. Make me forget about my job and everything that’s wrong in the world. Please!" I had done this, before. But now, there was no Kristin. There was no camera. There was no threat of violence or embarrassing and possibly incriminating videos being published. There was just my mother and me. And Mom’s ass, practically calling out to me, and Mom’s voice, which was literally begging. "Please, Danny. Please! I need it so bad, sweetie. Don’t make Mommy bed. Yesss…" Her last word trailed off into a sibilant hiss as I poured the oil into the crack of Mom’s ass, over the string of her thong. She grunted when I pulled the string aside and worked the oil into the first inch or so of her, with a finger, then hissed, "Yes," again, when I let her thong snap back so I could use both hands to unbutton my jeans. Gathering a handful of oil from the crotch of Mom’s underwear, which was drenched and dripping on the floor, I quickly lubed my dick and, with my underwear around my thighs and my jeans around my ankles, pushed the head of my cock into Mom’s ass. "Yes!" Mom grunted, as my head popped through the tight ring of her anus, for the second time ever. Then, "Yes. Yes! Yes!" she grunted, yelled and, finally, screamed, as, holding tightly to her hips, I pushed into her until her ass was against my hips and I was buried to my balls in Mom’s hot, welcoming ass. I was happy to just stand there, for a moment, and enjoy the feel of being back inside of her. But, as I was doing that, Mom was scrabbling with the front of her blouse. Finally, with the weight of her upper body supported by her forehead, resting on the edge of the table, Mom violently jerked her blouse open, scattering buttons across the tile floor. "Help me!" she demanded, twisting and turning as she tried to work her arms out of the sleeves. Being a thoughtful and obedient son, I bent forward, keeping my cock firmly implanted in Mom’s ass, and pulled her blouse down and off of her. I was going to unhook her bra, except that, for some reason, it didn’t seem to have any hooks. Of course, that was because it hooked in front and, once Mom had opened it, I was able to pull it off of her, as well. "Yes." Mom’s voice was low, in pitch, but loud enough to make me a little uneasy, since we were in the middle of the kitchen with all the lights on, and she went on to say, "My tits should be bare. Always bare, for you. They should bounce, when you fuck my. Fuck me! Fuck me, you wonderful mother fucker." Mom raised her upper body until her arms were straight and her hands gripped the edge of the table, and started to rock, meeting my forward thrusts, until I was pounding against her ass and her tits were, indeed, bouncing. Aunt Karen walked in, just as Mom was announcing her first orgasm to the neighborhood, with an animal scream. My aunt didn’t seem particularly shocked. In fact, she immediately set to work solving Mom’s volume issue. Her solution was both ingenious and marvelous. She quickly stripped out of her clothes and, when she was completely naked, Aunt Karen stuffed her panties into Mom’s mouth. "So, she finally gave in, did she?" Aunt Karen, standing behind and to one side of me, leaned forward to whisper in my ear with her hand on my ass and her tits pressed against my side. For my part, as soon as it became clear that Aunt Karen wasn’t going to blow a gasket, I had picked up my pace and was breathing to hard and concentrating on holding back my orgasm too intently to answer. I came, anyway, a few seconds later, adding my own growl to Mom’s muffled scream. Half an hour later, having squeezed into M’s shower, together, the three of us were on her bed. I was on my back, with Mom’s head on my shoulder, and Aunt Karen’s on my thigh. She stopped gently licking my dick to look up at us and say, "I’ve been thinking. If I sell my house, we could use the money to build a bigger bathroom." Mom stiffened. "What’s wrong," I asked. I expected the worst. She would say that this had been a mistake. She was going to end what had just restarted, just like she had ended what we were doing in Panama. And I could see, by the expression on Aunt Karen’s face that she was thinking the same thing. Even before Mom answered, I was starting to plot a conspiracy with my aunt. But my train of thought was derailed when Mom blurted out her big confession. (continued…)
(…continuing) "I knew about Kristin. I… It was my idea. I paid for her tickets. I arranged the whole thing." "What!" Aunt Karen sat up and faced my mother. "I couldn’t help it. I… The idea just came to me and, once it was in my head, I couldn’t get rid of it. I couldn’t help myself." Aunt Karen stared at Mom, her face blank and unreadable. "I have two questions. First was the gun real?" Mom looked shocked. "No! Of course not." "Good. I don’t think I could have forgiven you if it was real." "No." Mom shook her head. "So, then, my other question is this. Why did you call it off. It ended far too abruptly to have been planned that way. You got out of bed, while we were sleeping, and sent Kristin away. Why?" Mom sat up, as well. The two of them sat, cross legged, facing each other across my body. "I was afraid. You saw how it was. Nobody ever even touched my ass, before. I didn’t know what to expect. But never, in my wildest dreams, would I have guessed it would feel like that. I could lose myself, in that much pleasure. The… The plan was only supposed to last until we left Panama. But I knew that, if I felt like that even one more time, I would be lost. I thought I could recover from one time. But a second time would be too much. I would never be the same. I would wind up as some sort of sex slave to my own son. Begging him, offering to do anything he wanted, just to feel his cock in my ass, again" Aunt Karen laughed, sharply. "And how did that work out for you?" Mom looked down at my face, then let her eyes roam down my body. She reached out and gently stroked my half-erect dick, as if she was afraid it might burn her. "Once was too much. I… I can never be like I was. This is… It’s too good to go without." "You’re addicted." Mom nodded. "Well, Susan. What am I supposed to do, now? You set me up. You humiliated me, in front of my nephew. You left me tied to a bed, half mad with lust, while you and your….confederate fucked him within earshot. You forced him to take my virginity. And then… And then… You made me stop. Ten days, Susan. You made my display myself in front of him for ten days, with no relief for either of us." "It was hard for me, too." "You had a choice. You convinced me… Convinced me that it was the right thing, then whipped out your tits. And why? As some sort of personal penance? To torture yourself for giving in to your baser instincts? Well it was torture for me, too. And did you even think about what it was doing to him?" Panting and flushed, Aunt Karen glared at Mom. "Can you ever forgive me?" "Oh, I’ll forgive you. Once you’ve been punished." "Punished?" Mom blushed and, I happened to notice, her nipples stiffened. "Ten days, Susan. Ten days. So, to make the punishment fit the crime, you are cut off from Danny’s cock for ten days. You will not put it in your mouth, cunt, or especially your ass." "Ten days?" Mom whined, like a four year old sent to time-out. "Ten days. And that’s just to make up for that fucking topless sunbathing. For everything else, like making us fear for our lives, and making me give up my first cock, after just one fuck, we will add a corporal element." "Corporal?" "Spankings. Every day, for ten days, both Danny and I will administer ten firms blows to your bare ass. And, when we’ve finished; when ten days are over and you have submitted, willingly, to your punishment, and gone without relief, then I will forgive you." "Thank you!" Mom leaned across my body and pulled her sister into a kiss. "Thank you." They kissed above me for quite a while, which I certainly didn’t mind. Eventually, it was Aunt Karen who broke it off, putting both hands on Mom’s shoulders to push her away. "You do have an active tongue, don’t you?" Aunt Karen asked, panting. Mom smiled and looked away, as if embarrassed. "See if you can’t find something useful to do with it while I," Aunt Karen stopped talking long enough to rise up onto her knees and swing one leg over my hips, "fuck your son." In a matter of no more than two or three seconds, she reached between us, slotted my dick into her pussy and impaled herself, forcefully, onto my cock. Her eyes opened wide, as if she was tremendously surprised. And maybe she was; after all, even though I had only had sex a few times, she had only done it once, and a lot of time had passed, since. With a moaned, "Oh!" she tipped forward, dropping her hands to either side of my head and, whether intentionally or not, forcing the last inch or so of my dick even deeper into her sex. "Are you okay?" I asked. Aunt Karen looked down at me, wide eyed. "I could get used to this," she gasped. "Me too!" I could feel the muscles in my cheeks tighten as a grin covered my face. Aunt Karen’s eyelids drooped, as she returned my smile, the popped open as Mom, who had straddled my ankles, bent forward and pressed her face between Aunt Karen’s ass cheeks and her tongue into my aunt’s last virgin opening. * [Part 1](http://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/1itusa/vacation_part_1_of_8_mf_mff_inc_motherson/) * [Part 2](http://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/1ivxnr/vacation_part_2_of_8_mf_mff_inc_motherson/) * [Part 3](http://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/1j2i9f/vacation_part_3_of_8_mf_mff_inc_motherson/) * [Part 4](http://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/1jab44/vacation_part_4_of_8_mf_mff_inc_motherson/) * [Part 5](http://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/1jn7mq/vacation_part_5_of_8_mf_mff_inc_motherson/) * [Part 6](http://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/1jp2ac/vacation_part_6_of_8_mf_mff_inc_motherson/) * [Part 7](http://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/1jrcnv/vacation_part_7_of_8_mf_mff_inc_motherson/) * [Part 8](http://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/1jtdji/vacation_part_8_of_8_mf_mff_inc_motherson/)
That’s it. I know there’s still a lot that can, and believe me will, happen between these three, but, at least for now, it’s going to have to remain undocumented. Think of it as more of a beginning, than an ending.
Excellent series! I have to admit I feel like it lost some of the energy 4-7 it had built up in parts 1-3, but #8 wraps it up nicely despite the rather jarring end of the Coercion at the beginning. I’d love to see a 2nd story that continues this series.
Congratulations!
Well done Mate, That was truly an awesome read, by far the best I’ve read on this sub, have you done any other work along this line? I look forward to your future work if any.
Bravo!!!
Good read, look forward to your next story ( hope there is a next)