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by Tad Overdon
“Johnny asked to have a graduation party at the lake house, week after next,” Roberta Lawson told her husband over breakfast early one June morning. “I said that I was sure that would be fine, but I’d have to run it by you first.”
Ray Lawson looked at his wife over the top of his newspaper. “Glad you said that. Absolutely not.” He pretended to return to his reading, hoping that he’d ended the matter. He knew better.
“Why ever not?”
Ray sighed and put the paper aside. He’d have no peace until this was settled. “For one thing, if anything happens up there, it’s our property and we’re liable.”
“Spoken like a lawyer.” Roberta’s tone was equal parts amused tolerance and barely disguised frustration. Ray heard that in his wife’s voice more and more often of late and it grated. To his mind, it wasn’t right for her to challenge him on matters like this.
“Yes, and as an officer of the court, I think we ought to maintain some standard of civic responsibility. Enabling the kids of this town in their carousing is asking for trouble. You know they’ll want to drink–”
“–They’re all eighteen, and it’ll be a private party–”
“–They’ll want to drink and God knows what else. At the very least it looks bad.”
“‘It *looks* bad.'” Roberta mimicked. She wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out playfully, trying to deflect his irritation. She didn’t understand why her husband bristled at the slightest little thing, these days. He seemed to look upon any disagreement as a personal affront.
Ray’s increasing intransigence wasn’t limited to differences of opinion about everyday matters. With Johnny being an only child and about to graduate high school and go off to college in the autumn, Roberta had been looking forward to what she’d hoped would be new freedom for them to explore life again together. For years they’d talked of pulling up stakes and traveling; now, whenever she broached the subject Ray responded only with terse objections about the expenses and risks.
At forty-five, Ray Lawson behaved and was even starting to look much older than his years. That unnerved Roberta. She’d begun asking herself what kind of life lay ahead, now that it would be just the two of them alone in the house again.
“Dear, it’ll only be him and a few of his soccer pals and their girlfriends,” she pressed. “We know these kids. We’re friends with their parents. Like the Gables.”
“And Luke Gable is exactly the kind of trouble I’m talking about,” Ray countered. “I don’t care how many goals he kicks or how popular he is, he’s a punk. He has no respect for his elders.”
“He’s always very considerate and nice to me,” Roberta objected.
*Of course he’s nice to you,* Ray thought. Approaching early middle age, Roberta Lawson was still a knock-out. The fine smile lines that now accented her beautiful features, as well as the strands of silver threading through her long waves of blond hair, just made her more alluring. He knew she fretted about the few pounds that the decades had inevitably added to her five-foot-three frame, but Ray liked that little extra meat on her curves. She looked now like a centerfold from the old men’s magazines he’d furtively collected in his teenage years.
In his heart, Ray knew that much of his problem with Luke and some of his son’s other friends was the way that he’d seen them look at Roberta when visiting the house. Well, she *was* gorgeous and they *were* adolescent males. Ray feared that to make an issue of the matter would make him look foolish and insecure. So he said only, “I’m telling you, that whole gang is more trouble than they’re worth.”
“They’re not a gang. They’re our son’s teammates, and his best friends.” Roberta suddenly stopped in the middle of stacking the breakfast dishes in the washer. She walked up behind Ray and hugged his shoulders. “They’ll only graduate high school once, sweetheart. Let Johnny have this one thing.”
*Let him have this one thing. She makes me sound like a petty bully.* “All right. Fine. They can have a barbeque. Off the property by eleven.”
“With a bonfire?” Roberta sounded as giddy as if she were planning her own graduation party.
“A small one. But *no booze*.” Ray picked up his newspaper again. *I’ll regret this,* he thought.
†††
Greenleaf High’s graduation ceremony took place at the town’s absurdly modern civic center, a marble-faced cube that looked like a giant’s child had just dropped it randomly across the town square from the Neo-Georgian courthouse. Ray could never look at the façade with its tall gun-slit windows without wondering how much of his property tax was tied up in that monument to small-town grandiosity.
Proud, tearful hugs and congratulations were exchanged. Thousands of images of hundreds of gowned graduates, classmates, and their families were snapped, most fated to disappear into cloud storage and never be viewed a second time.
And the Lawsons hosted a beach party and barbeque at their vacation place by the lake.
Ray had to admit that just opening the place up for the season lifted his spirits. The modest fir-and-cedar cottage, with its floor-to-ceiling windows looking down on the beach from atop a wooded hill, had been his favorite place since he and Roberta had purchased it some twenty years before. Then, it had been his reward for his early career achievements. More recently it had become a refuge from a world he believed was growing more hostile every day to men like him, old-fashioned men with old school values. The first group of kids to arrive in the mid-afternoon were pleasant and polite enough, a few couples who joked around a little with Ray and Roberta up at the barbecue pit before withdrawing to swim and play spike ball with Johnny on the narrow sandy beach below.
His mood darkened when Johnny’s closest friends—Luke Gable, Bobby Tilson, and Keith Stewart—came rolling up the gravel access road in that beaten-up old Escalade that Keith had bought on eBay. Just seeing the piece of junk bouncing and rattling down the path on its busted suspension annoyed the hell out of him. It was loud, ridiculous, and, to his mind, a public danger. It exemplified all that he disliked about the gang Johnny chose to run with.
Soon noise was blaring from the wireless speakers that they set up on the tailgate. Ray couldn’t stand rap.
Nonetheless, as the sun sank toward the wooded hills Ray gamely went along and tried to make the best of the situation. He pitched in to help build the bonfire. Getting the fire started with kindling and twigs was easy enough, but when it came to lugging the big pieces of wood he quickly grew winded. He was dragging a heavy log across the sand when he looked up to find his son hovering over him.
“You okay, Old Man?”
Ray nodded brusquely. “I’m fine! I just need a minute.” Johnny Lawson was tall, lean, athletic, and, to Ray’s mind, increasingly insolent. He blamed that on the kid’s hanging out with punks like Luke Gable. At first, Ray had accepted the “Old Man” moniker with good humor, taking it as affectionate sparring between father and maturing son. Lately it irritated him.
Johnny ignored him and snatched up the log, effortlessly hefting it onto his shoulder. “Why don’t you go chill up at the house?” he said as he walked away. At that, Ray threw in the towel and stalked back to the barbeque pit, fuming.
“He’s just looking after you,” Roberta reassured her husband. “There’s no point in your trying to keep up with the young guys. You know, maybe you should listen to what the doctor’s been saying about your diet and exercise. You’re not Superman.”
That was exactly the wrong thing for her to say, and Ray was sure she was needling him. “I work all the goddamn time!” he growled. “I don’t have time for that nonsense because I *work* so that we can have this place, and the house in town, and…and everything!”
Roberta just kissed him on the forehead, her expression a familiar mixture of concern at his display of temper, and what he sensed now was pity. “Of course, sweetheart. You’re right. Look, I’ll keep an eye on this mob. Why don’t you go up to the cottage and watch the game?”
*She’s humoring me. Like a cranky child.*
*Or an old man.*
Still, she’d granted him a pass to do what he really wanted, to turn his back on all the adolescent strutting and disorder, and retreat to the peace of the house on the hill. The Demons were a few points behind, early in the first quarter, when he poured himself a bourbon and settled in for the evening.
†††
It was nearly eleven when the Demons pulled out an overtime win. Ray could still hear music and see the bonfire going on the beach. He thought he ought to remind Roberta to have the kids wrap it up. Strolling down the two flights of wooden stairs, he was pleased to see that the crowd had dwindled down to a few.
The stragglers were crowded around the Escalade’s tailgate, filling pong cups from a tapped keg. Roberta was with them, Dark though it was, it looked like one of the guys had a hand on her hip.
“Roberta!”
She turned and waved cheerfully. Seeing Ray’s expression, she broke away from the group and came to intercept him.
“Now don’t get all worked up,” she said. “Look, it’s a big night for them. Luke brought the beer and I didn’t see any harm in it.”
“The Stewart kid had his hand on your ass!”
“Keith?” Roberta looked confused for a moment. She giggled. “I don’t *think* so…Oh come on, honey, we’re just joking around. There’s no harm done.” She leaned forward to kiss Ray on the cheek and wobbled, falling against him. A familiar acrid aroma clung to her hair.
“For Christ’s sake, Roberta! You smell like pot. What the hell is wrong with you?” He was shouting now. The teens standing around the SUV stopped their chatter to watch the older couple. “That’s it! That’s the end of this. I want them gone now!”
“Okay, fine.” Roberta frowned and tossed her head, looking like a sulking teenager herself. “The guys are ready to head out anyway. They’re driving all the way out to Sommerset Island tonight. Y’know, after graduation it’s a week-long party–”
“Well, Johnny’s sure as hell not going,” Ray interrupted. He peered past Roberta at the group. “Where *is* Johnny?”
“I think he went off down the shore somewhere with Tina Wilson.”
“What do you mean, you think he–you’re supposed to be the goddamn chaperone!”
“Everything all right here, Mrs. Lawson?” Ray started at the low voice behind him. He spun around to look up at Luke Gable’s shadowed face. The big eighteen-year-old loomed over him. “You just back off, mister,” Ray snapped. “I want you all off the property in ten minutes.” He held his breath and steeled himself, staring up into the youth’s dark, unreadable eyes with clenched, trembling fists.
“Yes, sir.” Luke seemed shocked and genuinely hurt. Ray’s nemesis was just a kid, after all. Head between his shoulders, Luke trudged off to join the others.
“Proud of yourself?” Roberta pushed past Ray, going after Luke. Now Ray was confused. He’d done nothing wrong. He dug in.
“Ten minutes!” he shouted after her.
“I’ll deal with it! Go away,” She didn’t look back.
*I’m not the bad guy.* As he made his way up the stairs to the cottage Ray silently cursed himself for losing control again. His anger had been more than justified. Yet his outburst had made him look childish. He would go back down and apologize.
As he turned around at the landing, someone set off a string of firecrackers. He raced toward the beach with renewed indignation–only to stop dead at the edge of the trees, stunned by what he saw.
Luke, Keith, and Bobby were sitting on a blanket by the fire, laughing and passing a vape pen back and forth between them. Roberta was on her feet, dancing to the beat of the music Ray hated.
The night breeze, and the glow of the fire behind her, transmuted Roberta’s golden curls into a blazing halo. The same light silhouetted her voluptuous, youthful figure right through her thin white chambray blouse. From the way her full breasts quivered as she moved it was clear that she’d discarded her bra. One of the teens called out to her. Ray couldn’t make out the words from where he stood, but his wife responded by laughing and grinding her hips at the group. She hooked a thumb into the top of her short cut-off jeans and flipped the snap open. The shorts slipped lower on her hips as she danced, exposing the upper curve of her buttocks.
The expression on her lovely features was one of unfettered delight.
Roberta felt free. She felt *alive*. Everything was falling into place; she had the attention of three gorgeous young men who desired her. It was all so easy, after all…now all she only had to make a decision. One wonderful, terrible choice…
Lost in her reverie she missed her footing in the shifting sand and she stumbled. Luke leaped up and caught her in his arms. Animal need surged through her at his touch, at the flash of protectiveness in his eyes when he’d seen her falling, at the *smell* of him! Sweat and smoke and testosterone mingled with whatever that silly stuff was that young guys lathered on, trying to make themselves “manly.” Johnny used it, too.
Roberta kissed Luke hard, with a passion denied through too many years of wanting all that her husband sullenly withheld.
Luke worked her cut-offs and panties down over her hips. She helped him. When the garments roped around her ankles she stepped out of them and kicked them away, then yanked her blouse over her head and discarded it in one smooth motion. She stood naked, her smooth bare flesh warmed by the bonfire behind and by the lustful gazes of her three lovers-to-be before her.
*I’m so wasted.* Roberta almost said it aloud but stopped herself. It wasn’t true. She’d had two beers and three tokes of weed and she was mildly buzzed. And in that instant, Roberta vividly saw her life’s course up to now as one of offering excuses for whatever she’d dared to want for herself. *I’m not making excuses anymore.*
Luke ended the kiss and released her. She posed defiantly, hands on her hips and legs planted wide apart, displaying her body with a boldness she’d not known she possessed. Keith and Bobby lifted her and laid her on her back on their blanket. Bobby kissed up the side of her neck and nibbled her ear, fondling and pinching her breasts and nipples. Keith’s hand moved up her thigh until his fingers brushed the swollen petals of her labia. He slipped one finger into her vagina and moved it carefully in and out. He added a second finger, pushing deep into her moist slit until he could easily rub his thumb across her clitoris while massaging the little nerve cluster of her G-spot. As both teens played with her body, a warm churning sensation grew within her. Little tremors rippled through her belly, and she simply closed her eyes and enjoyed an unexpected climax.
“Goddamn, she’s coming already,” Bobby muttered.
“What’d I tell you?” Luke grinned at Roberta and winked. “Mrs. Lawson’s a slut by nature, and she sure don’t get what she needs from ol’ Raymond.” Roberta’s eyebrows shot up at that. She flashed him a look of mock indignation. He shrugged. “Come on, I seen the way you look at me when you think I won’t notice.”
“The same, I’m sure,” Roberta teased. All three teens were naked now. The sight of their big erect cocks jutting out from their crotches thrilled her to her core. It had been ages since Ray had given her a good proper fucking, either because he wasn’t up to it or simply didn’t care anymore. Whatever his reasons, they no longer mattered to her. She’d sure as hell make up for lost time tonight.
“Who’s first?” she challenged. The guys exchanged uncertain looks. Roberta was pleased that her brazenness shocked them. “Luke!” she said. “Put up or shut up.” She smiled and spread her legs wide. Keith gave Luke an encouraging shove and Luke lurched forward, falling to his hands and knees in front of Roberta. He scooted forward, lay atop her, then braced himself on his elbows and pressed the tip of his cock into her warm, wet furrow.
Without a word, Luke flexed his hips and drove all the way into Roberta’s cunt.
“Yes…*Oh, Yes!*” she moaned as he penetrated her. Every nerve in her body sizzled with desire as she humped back against his powerful thrusts. Goddamn, but the kid knew what he was doing! She’d listened to her friends’ gossip about their own adventures with Luke and his buddies. They’d talked of how the guys used so many of the horny wives and mothers in the town as their harem. She’d put most of the stories down to wishful fantasizing. Now she believed every word. The way he moved with her, responding and adjusting to the pleasurable little contractions of her inner muscles in just such a way as to constantly heighten her arousal, showed her that Luke already possessed sexual experience and skills far beyond what most men ever acquired.
She rocked her hips and arched her back up to meet his plunging shaft, overwhelmed by the euphoria of feeling her needy pussy channel so completely filled by young cock. She saw Bobby and Keith standing by with their stiff pricks at the ready. This was life as she was meant to live it.
After several minutes of pure bliss, Roberta came again while Luke sprayed streams of warm semen into her hot depths. It was the first simultaneous orgasm she had ever experienced.
As soon as Luke withdrew and rolled off of her, Bobby knelt between her thighs. He lifted her calves over his shoulders and nudged the blunt head of his prick into her open, cum-dripping cunt. His cock was thicker than Luke’s, nearly as big as her wrist. By the time he’d pushed the first few inches into her, she was coming again. She grabbed his head and pulled his face down to her breasts. “Suck me, baby. Suck my big titties.” Bobby turned out to have an absolute gift for tit sucking. Between his tongue lathing each of her large dark areolae in turn and the way he gently bit down on her swollen nipples while pumping his big cock in and out of her slick pussy, Roberta had two more orgasms before he emptied his balls into her.
“Give…give me a minute,” Roberta gasped. She closed her eyes and lay flat, taking long deep breaths. When she was able, she looked up and saw Keith standing astride her hips leering down at her like a hungry jungle cat. She blinked several times. His was the biggest cock she’d ever seen.
“Oh my,” she sighed, suddenly breathless again.
Sunk in a horrified stupor, Ray watched all this unfold from his position at the foot of the wooded hill. His view of Roberta was partly blocked by the bodies of her young partners, except for the few seconds when one would finish and step back to make way for the next. He could see her face, and he witnessed her glee and disbelief as Keith Stewart mounted her. Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a small “o” of surprise when he entered her. She arched her pelvis up, madly humping back against his hammering thrusts.
Ray was paralyzed. He wanted to rush in, to put a stop to the obscenity, but could not make his legs move forward or his mouth form words. What could he do against three strong young guys, when Roberta was clearly not just a willing but an eager participant in this–this *gang bang?* Her lusty cries of encouragement, the supple rocking of her hips, and the way she lifted her arms to embrace each young stud in turn as they knelt between her legs to shove their hard cocks into her welcoming pussy were all seared into Ray’s brain.
“Dad! What’s wrong? What’s going on?” Johnny walked out of the woods behind Ray. He was holding Tina Wilson’s hand. Tina’s auburn hair hung in matted tangles, her pink lip gloss smeared across one cheek and down her chin. That was more than Ray could take in right now. He gestured frantically in the direction of the orgy on the sand.
“Wow,” Tina whispered, her gaze fixed on the fucking group. Johnny’s eyes widened in disbelief as he took it all in.
“We have to do something!” Ray croaked, finding his voice at last. “That’s your *mother*. DO SOMETHING!”
“Uh…Yeah! Yeah, sure.” Johnny strode off toward the group. Tina hurried after him.
Roberta and Keith shared a lingering kiss as he pulled his spent prick out of her clasping pussy and stood up. She’d lost count of her climaxes with him, her consciousness submerged in a fog of primal physical pleasure. Basking in the afterglow, she wondered idly if she should take two of them together next. She was sure they’d all go for that, and she was ready.
“Mom!”
Her son towered over her. She flushed from her scalp to her toes.
“J-Johnny?”
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, baby.” Roberta giggled. She tilted her head seductively and propped herself on her elbows, gazing up at the most handsome, sexist man she’d ever known. He had her blonde curls and garnet eyes, but his face was square and rugged. He was tall and strong and built, like the other guys. But he wasn’t like the others. He was her son.
She couldn’t fuck her son. She couldn’t *want* to fuck her own son.
Could she?
Would he?
Johnny answered his mother’s unspoken question by stripping out of his swim trunks, exposing the most beautiful cock she’d ever seen. He was fully erect. The slit at the tip of the dark purple head glistened with a drop of pre-cum. There was no doubt what her son wanted.
Roberta hesitated.
It would be so wrong.
It would be *so* good.
“Come to Mama,” she growled.
Roberta had been fucked by three guys in twenty minutes, but she was as horny as if she hadn’t even touched herself in years. She’d never wanted a man as badly as she wanted her son now.
Roberta scrambled to her knees on the blanket as Johnny approached. She looked up at him through dreamy eyes, shyly biting her lower lip.
“Mommy wants to suck,” she whispered.
Roberta’s fingers roamed up the backs of Johnny’s taut, muscular thighs. She cupped his buttocks in her hands, drawing him to her until that glorious fat cock head bobbed just an inch from her lips. She inhaled deeply. His male aroma washed over her senses, making her nipples swell even harder and her clitoris tingle. A flick of her tongue captured the first salty drops of his seminal fluid. Saliva welled up in her mouth. She lavished little kisses over his cock crown and licked around the flaring corona before parting her lips to swallow the first several inches of her son’s prick.
Tina crouched behind Roberta, pressing her soft naked breasts against the older woman’s shoulder blades. “You’ve got beautiful boobs, Mrs. Lawson,” Tina murmured, kissing the nape of Roberta’s neck and reaching around to gather Roberta’s breasts in her small hands. The teen trembled with excitement. “You don’t mind, do you? It’s just such a turn-on watching you suck your son’s dick. Isn’t he the best?”
“Mmm.” Roberta sucked her son without conscience or regret. He rested his broad masculine hands on the crown of her head. She loved that he didn’t try to hold her or force the course of her action. He just seemed to enjoy the silky feeling of her curls between his fingers. She moved her head forward and back, taking more and more of his prick into her drooling mouth.
“Hey, c’mere, you!” Luke pulled Tina up by her arm, grabbed her around the waist, and threw her over his shoulder. He carried her to where Bobby and Keith waited. She squealed joyfully when they stripped off her bikini bottom. Luke supported her under her back and Keith hoisted her thighs over his shoulders so that he could get his lips around her hairless little cunt.
“It’s you and me, lover.” Roberta pulled her mouth off of Johnny’s prick. As much as she savored the taste of his seminal fluid leaking onto her tongue and down her throat, she was determined she’d have plenty of opportunities to sample that delicacy from now on. She planned to drink Johnny’s jism often and at her leisure. Right now, she had a better target for her son’s first load.
Roberta lay back and lifted her legs, toes pointing skyward and thighs open wide. Johnny got atop her, took her face in his hands, and pressed his lips to hers. The dome of his cock slipped into her vagina. Their passionate kiss muffled her shrieks of ecstasy as she flexed her inner muscles to pull her son into her as far and as fast as she could.
Roberta wrapped her legs around the small of Johnny’s back and grabbed his hips, pulling him still deeper into her fuck tunnel. He moved in and out, fucking his mother with long slow strokes at first. He slid his big hands under her buttocks and lifted her off the blanket as he sped up, holding her at such an angle that he could piston his iron-hard shaft all the way into her on every repetition. Roberta thrashed and twisted in his powerful grip, desperate to feel every fraction of an inch of her son’s hot, veiny fuck-pole gliding against her pussy walls. She luxuriated in the wickedness of satisfying her lust with her own flesh and blood. Just having him in her was more fantastic than any climax of her life, and she was not near coming yet.
Mother and son strained and groaned and gyrated against one another for several minutes. Roberta was torn between prolonging her first sexual union with Johnny for as long as she could and her deliciously perverse craving for his cum. When she could no longer resist that yearning she started contracting her cunt muscles again, rhythmically squeezing and massaging his cock.
“Goddamn! I can’t…hold…on. Gotta come!” Johnny’s prick throbbed and jerked inside his mother. Her fingers closed around his scrotum, fondling his big balls as the velvety sack tightened. She could feel the pressure building in his cock and his precious, creamy tribute to her womanhood pulsing upward through his shaft.
“Come inside me…I want it…Come in Mommy!” Roberta howled and convulsed in a tremendous orgasm as her son drilled into her. His crotch slammed against her pussy mound and he flooded her womb in a geyser of his seed.
Appalled and physically sickened, Ray watched from the darkness. He watched the punks celebrating, high-fiving one another. He watched them lift his wife into the air like a trophy, passing her back and forth, continually kissing and groping her legs and ass and tits and pussy. He watched mother and son embrace and sway naked in one another’s arms to a rhythm only they could hear.
The full meaning of the phrase “impotent rage” hit him like a sledgehammer to the stomach. There was nothing he could do. Ray Lawson had finally to face the truth that beneath decades of simmering resentment and mounting anger at the world, he was just plain afraid. As far back as he could remember, he’d lived with the dreadful awareness that this world might one day take from him all that which had never truly been his. That day had come at last.
He watched numbly for a few minutes more. Then he turned and slunk away up the long stairway up to the house. He found the crystal decanter of Maker’s Mark where he’d left it by his recliner.
†††
Ray had no idea what time it was when he regained consciousness the first time. He sprawled face down and fully clothed on the mattress in the cottage’s master bedroom. His shirt was wet and stank of the last dregs leaking from the bottle that lay upended on the coverlet next to him. The sound of the shower, running full blast, pounded like a drum inside his head.
The water stopped. Steam billowed from the bathroom door and Roberta emerged, naked other than for the towel wrapped in a turban around her hair. Glancing down at him, she went to the closet and pulled out her overnight bag. She opened a dresser drawer and started throwing clothes into the bag.
“Wha…what are you doing?”
“Oh, Ray, you’re awake!” Roberta bent over and gave him a peck on the cheek. She smelled of coconut shampoo and baby powder. “You look awful, hon. You didn’t drink the whole bottle?”
Ray stared blearily at her and tried to raise his head, to no good result. “What are you doing?” he repeated, feeling like an idiot. He hoped for an instant that he’d awakened from a nightmare.
“I just wanted to freshen up and get some things for the trip.”
“What trip?” Ray jerked fully awake and tried a second time to sit up. His head was about to explode.
“I thought I told you, the guys are driving out to Sommerset for Beach Week. They invited me! Isn’t that sweet?”
Ray’s heart sank even further. “And just what is a forty-year-old woman going to do for a week with a bunch of teenagers?” He knew the answer. He hoped she’d be ashamed to say it.
“I’m going to fuck them, silly.” She slurred her words a little, but her eyes were alert and sparkled with excitement as she pulled a blue flowered sundress over her head and stepped into her sandals. “They’ve promised to fuck me as much as I want. All of them, Ray!”
“Roberta…” Ray could barely force out the words. “Our son?!”
“Johnny? Of course!” Roberta patted Ray’s shoulder and looked at him sympathetically. “I know it’ll take some getting used to. But I’m going to be fucking Johnny from now on. A lot.” She wrinkled her nose in that playful way she had. “All the time, really.”
“You’ve lost your mind.”
“Have I?” A troubled shadow flitted across her face and then vanished. “Well, it doesn’t matter.” Her voice took on a reassuring note. “Oh, darling, I *do* love you…I suppose. But you’re not enough anymore. *I’m* not ready to grow old. Not yet.”
She smoothed Ray’s sweat-soaked hair and kissed his cheek again. “See ya soon.”
“Roberta!’ he called after her as she sauntered out the door, suitcase in hand. He tried to stand. His head swam. He fell backward on the bed and passed out again.
†††
Ray next stirred when the rising sun outside the window struck him right in the face. He struggled to his feet, weak with the nausea of his hangover and his memories of the night’s events. Anger–that old reliable, his only friend–surged through him once more. The shock of adrenaline brought with it fleeting fantasies of taking the Camry and chasing the bastards down, of confronting his whore of a wife and his pervert son.
He would run them off the road.
He would murder them all.
He would. He would…
…But by dawn the Escalade was already bouncing along the coastal highway, a few miles from its destination. Roberta straddled her son in the third seat of the vehicle, both of them stark naked. Johnny held his mother close against his chest, his hard cock plowing relentlessly into her pussy. He used one hand to play with her big tits while stroking her engorged clitoris with the fingers of his other.
Every time they hit a bump on the road, Roberta came.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/jgmjn0/the_graduates_mf_incest