Christmas at Home

Chapter 01

Akeem Cain stepped from the Uber into the semicircular driveway of his parent's ranch house. It was two years since he was here last. The long interval between seeing his parents was accidental.

His work for a venture capital firm took him all over the world. It took a significant juggling of his schedule to get home for Christmas. It would be good to see his parents again, to spend the first Christmas in years at home.

As he thought of them, an image of his mother, the last time he saw her popped into his mind.

They were on the nude beach in Monterey. The beach was their favorite haunt because they could fuck there, and no one knew they were mother and son. It added a kink to their relationship that they had always sought.

She was naked except for her bikini top. Her breasts swung freely, challenging the ability of the insubstantial cloth to contain them. He was behind her driving his cock deep into her mocha-colored ass.

He could still see the wanton look of lust on her face when she looked back over her shoulder at him. He could again feel the indescribable feeling of her sphincter muscles clamping down as they came together. Her howls of unbridled passion echoed in his ears.

His cock plumped as he thought of his mother. They were good together. Traveling as he did, he got his share of pussy, from the exotic brothels in Kuala Lumpur with their experienced little brown whores to the older married woman he picked up in a Disney World bar last year and fucked in Orlando.

She was a mature 40ish White woman looking for an interracial adventure and an affirmation of her sexuality. They spent three hours together, where he gave her the benefit of sexual expertise garnered in his worldwide travels. She returned to her family sated, comfortable in her sexuality, and with her belly, ass, and pussy awash with his cum.

None of the women he had could measure up to his mother. Especially in anal sex, the one orifice she saved for him.

Akeem smiled. He loved the tightness of her pussy and the occasional sloppy seconds he got after she fucked his father. However, he was her first anal sex, and no one, not even his unsuspecting father, got to fuck her ass.

He trudged up the stairs to the door. Before he could ring the bell, the door flew open. Samantha Cain burst through the door as though shot out of a cannon. Her arms were outstretched, and her face wreathed in a mixture of joy and surprise.

His father trailed behind her, a bemused look on his face and a drink in his hand. Briefly, Akeem felt a pang of guilt. He loved and respected his father. He felt uncomfortable that he unknowingly wore the horns of a cuckold put there by his only son.

"Akeem! Akeem!"

Samantha flew into her son's arms. She embraced him tightly, her arms around his waist, her body plastered to his body. The plumpness of his cock pressed against her crotch through his jeans and her lavender mid-thigh peignoir.

She leaned back. Like any mother, even those not in long-term sexual relations with their son, she tut-tutted.

"You look thinner! Have you been eating, right? I'm going to fix you a good home-cooked meal. You're a day early; what happened?"

"Slow down, mom!" It felt good to hold her in his arms again. It was only with great restraint that he did not pat her ass. "I'm fine!"

He grasped her shoulders and pushed her to arm's length. Backlit by the lights inside the house, her gown was translucent. He saw the outline of her breasts, the fullness of her hips, and the deep vee between her legs. He got a pronounced chubby.

"When your mother gets through mauling you, I'd like at least a handshake!"

Agustin Cain stood just behind his wife with a broad smile and the ever-present cocktail in one hand. His thirty-year-old son had done well for himself, and he was proud of him.

"Can I greet our son also," he laughed, patting Samantha on her butt?

Akeem noticed the slight slur in his voice. His parents said they were social drinks, and he suspected they did a lot of socializing.

He was not judgmental; he also liked a cocktail in the evening to unwind. He wondered if they still toked.

Agustin and Samantha Cain came of age in the Timothy Leary era of the 1960s drug and free-love culture. They were liberal in their views about marijuana use and sexual attitudes. That liberalness led to his first sexual encounter with his mother 12 years ago.

It was the first of many. Unbeknownst to them, it would lead to a sybaritic lifestyle for them. They attended swingers' parties and occasionally partner swapped. Few of their sexual partners knew they were mother and son. The ones that did relished the kinkiness.

They did all of this under the seemingly unsuspecting nose of Agustin Cain.

"Dad, it's good to see you!" He stepped around his mother and engaged in a bear hug with his father.

"It's good to see you too, my boy!" Agustin teared up as he hugged his son.

Samantha watched the two men in her life embrace. It warmed her heart to see them show such obvious affection. Also, not many women had two virile men for sex. She looked forward to spending the Christmas holidays with her bowels and pussy dripping with cum.

"Let's go inside! It's chilly out here!"

Chapter 02

The pungent aroma of high-grade marijuana wafted around the room. The family sat on a sofa and matching lounge chair facing the gas fire in the faux fireplace. A dry weed vaporizer sat on the glass table. Two glasses partially filled with Bushmills Irish whiskey sat alongside it. The third glass was in Agustin's hand.

Samantha lay curled up on the sofa, her head resting on her son's shoulder. One arm was on the back of the couch, idling playing with his close-cut natural hair. The other lay on his bare thigh, lightly flexing.

Akeem had showered and changed into sweat shorts and a matching tee shirt bearing the logo of his alma mater, UCSC. Despite the fireplace and his mother's pronouncement, it was a warm California night. He smiled at his father dozing in the lounger.

Some things never changed. It was just as it was two years ago and in years past when he visited. His mother and father were buzzed. His father was dozing, and his mother's hand was dangerously close to his cock.

"Well, folks, I need some sleep. Jet lag is kicking my butt."

Akeem was drowsy, feeling the jet lag caused by 30 hours of flying across five time zones.

He sat up, and his mother's head slumped to his chest. Her hand slid up to his crotch.

In her drug and alcohol-induced twilight zone, she squeezed his cock. Akeem grabbed her hand and pulled it away, and eyed his father. He appeared knocked out, mouth open and snoring.

"Stop it, mom," he whispered, holding her hand in his.

"Hmm? What?"

Samantha sat up and looked over at her sleeping husband. She smiled wickedly at her son.

"You were squeezing my cock!"

"Oh! Does mommy give her baby an owie? Let me kiss it and make it better."

Samantha pushed the leg of Akeem's shorts up, extracted his cock, and took it in her mouth. Her cheeks went concave as she hungrily sucked.

"MOM! STOP!"

Akeem slapped his mother firmly on her jiggly bubble butt. He looked nervously at his father while pulling his mother's mouth off his cock.

Samantha's lips were moist with saliva. She leaned over and pecked her son lightly on his lips.

"Agustin! Agustin! Time to go to bed!"

Agustin Cain struggled awake. He looked bleary-eyed at his wife and son sitting across from him.

"Samantha, let the boy breathe! You're all over him!"

A part of him noted his son holding Samantha's hand and that her nightgown had risen up her thighs. He suspected they were at it again. From where he sat, he could see between her legs. He levered himself to a standing position and reached out for Samantha's hand.

"Come on, old girl, let's call it a night!"

The peignoir rode higher when Samantha slid forward on the couch. She took Agustin's hand and let him pull her up. The gown clung to her perspiring body and rode up, exposing her plump behind.

Akeem's cock hardened as he saw her ass gleaming with sweat. He could see the clamshell of her hairy pussy between her full mature thighs.

Akeem licked his lips. He fought the temptation to lean forward and kiss her luscious ass, to run his tongue down the cleft created by her labia. He actually leaned forward before he caught himself. He shook his head to clear it. Alcohol, weed, and fatigue were clouding his judgment.

He watched his mother fumble with the hem of her gown, finally pulling it down. He looked past her to where his father stood, swaying drunkenly.

I have to be careful! The old man hasn't suspected anything in all these years. Don't blow it now!

Still fumbling trying to get her peignoir down with one hand while Agustin held her other, Samantha looked at her son, still sitting on the divan. She unconsciously licked her lips when she saw the bulge in his shorts.

I want that in my mouth again tonight!

"Look, Christmas Eve is in two days. The service will deliver the tree in the morning. Let's get the decorations out of the attic tomorrow and set it up!"

"Sounds good," Akeem said, standing.

He bumped against his mother's ass, pushing her into Agustin's arms. They both teetered, nearly falling, then recovered. In the process, her gown rucked up, again exposing her behind. Too high to care, Agustin and Samantha walked up the hall to their bedroom, their arms around each other's waists.

Akeem smiled. He rubbed his rigid cock with his open palm as he watched the soft roll of his mother's bare ass as she and his father walked toward their bedroom.

Is it Christmas that brought you home or that incredibly sexy woman?

Like most boys, he fantasized about his mother. She was his ideal woman. Looking back, he realized that even then, she influenced his choice of girlfriends.

All of his girlfriends resembled her in some aspects. Either with big boobs, big ass, or ideally some combination of the two. He never dated or fucked the anorexic lollipops his friends liked. Their beanpole bodies with outsized heads never appealed to him.

He recalled the first time they fucked. Akeem and his mother reminisced about it often over the years. It was a life-changing moment for both of them. It caused Samantha to shed the strictures of the 1950s June Cleaver's wife and mother image. She became Kay Parker in the seminal adult film 'Taboo.'

Akeem was 18, and she was 35. They were on the last family camping trip before he went to college. They still had the old motorhome then. As she later related to Akeem, she and Agustin tried to keep their voices down. Akeem lay on the bed in front of the RV, unbeknownst to either of them, listening and stroking his cock while his parents fucked in the back bedroom.

Chapter 03

"Agustin, close the door! He might not be asleep!"

Samantha was naked, lying on the queen-size bed in the back of their Cobra motorhome. It was parked near New Brighton State Beach in a secluded campsite surrounded by trees across from Monterey Bay.

Agustin Cain was between his wife's spread thighs, with her legs on his back as he ate her pussy.

Samantha loved him eating her because it was something he rarely did. Her hand was on his head, her full hips pumping against his face. Even in the throes of a good pussy licking, her mother instinct caused her to worry about the impact if Akeem saw them like this.

"I let the kid have a couple of beers," Agustin slurred, feeling the effects of the six-pack and reefer he had earlier. "he's down for the count."

"Baby, it's been so long since you ate me out. I'm loving it! OOOOHHHH! Not my clit! It's too sensitive."

The soft squelching sound of his tongue French kissing her pussy filled the motorhome. Agustin was old school. Real men didn't eat pussy. Agustin was a 'slam bam, thank you ma'am kind of guy. The only time he licked her pussy was when he had been drinking and/or toking.

Back then, Samantha was like a kettle on a low fire. It took lots of foreplay to heat her to boiling. Born in the 1950s, she was raised to believe that her job was to cook, clean, and fuck her husband when he wanted. Culturally, she was a woman of her time. Sex was to please her husband. She felt guilty if she wanted sex and he didn't.

When Agustin transferred to California from the Midwest in the late 1960s, her sexual horizons expanded. The 1968 Summer of Love in San Francisco was distant from their new home in the town of Santa Cruz on the Monterey Bay. However, its influence was widespread.

Samantha began to question her traditional role. She wanted more from her sex life. Samantha no longer felt guilty about wanting pleasure from her sex life. Agustin was the only man she ever had. At 35, with an 18-year-old son leaving for college in the Fall, her life revolved around her family.

Years later, she told Akeem how disappointed she was when her husband stopped licking her and climbed on top. The wine and the weed had her in the mood for a long build-up to a night of hot sex. She sighed as Agustin positioned his cock at her entrance and drove it in. Samantha knew this night would be more about him than anything else. She wrapped her legs around his back as he sank into her creamy hole. Like the Energizer bunny, he pounded her like a jackhammer.

"Mmm! Go slow, baby! Make it last!"

As she spoke, he swelled in her. Then came the flood as he spurted his seed into her tunnel.

Samantha sighed, stroking her perspiring husband's back.

"That was nice, Agustin," she murmured.

His response was a loud snore.

Samantha pushed him off her and sat up in bed. He rolled to his back, sound asleep. She looked down at him, leaned over, and gently kissed him. Twenty years of marriage taught her that it was usually about him. She rose, took her robe from the hook on the wall, and donned it.

Agustin was a heavy cummer; his seed streamed from her pussy and down her thighs. Despite that, they only had one child. She pushed back the pocket door that separated the rear bedroom from the rest of the RV.

The only light was the moon streaming in the windows. In the distance, she could see the moonlight illuminating the beach. She was startled to see a figure sitting in a camp chair by the fire's dying embers. Just before panic set in, she realized it was Akeem.

She wondered if the sounds of her and Agustin's lovemaking woke him up. Perhaps he was embarrassed to hear his parents having sex. Concerned, she tightened the belt on the robe and went to the door.

"Akeem! Are you okay?"

"Yes, mom! It was such a nice night; I decided to sit out here for a while."

In fact, he came outside to finish jacking off. He often heard his parent's loud lovemaking. It reinforced the sexual image of his mother in his mind.

Samantha asked a question that would change all of their lives.

"Would you like some company?"

"Sure, mom!"

Akeem had sneaked out to smoke a joint and have a beer. He watched his mother gingerly walk barefoot across the scrub grass. Her arms were spread away from her body like she was walking a tightrope.

The belt on her robe loosened, and the gown opened, forming a deep vee on her chest. Akeem could see the soft sway of her breasts. Her hips pushed through the opening as she tiptoed toward him, sitting by the fire in his boxers.

Like most boys, he fantasized about his mother. It didn't help to hear her and his father going at it. It was just like at home. They were loud, but it didn't last that long.

At 18, his sexual experiences were limited. However, he was growing up in what would be called the Golden Age of Sex. The Pill was widespread, freeing women from the fears of unwanted pregnancy and before the Scourge of AIDS. The Summer of Love in San Francisco and The Woodstock festival opened up new sexual and social vistas.

The girls in his high school were not sexual libertines like the hippies. However, their attitude about sex changed with the times. They were more open about letting a boyfriend finger their hot little holes. They had no problem with the occasional handjob. Blowjobs were not uncommon from classmates still clinging to their outmoded virginity. Some went all the way, discovering they loved a hard cock in their fevered holes.

Akeem's girlfriend was a child of the '70s. Her parents cautioned her against premarital sex but gave her birth control just in case.

She and Akeem explore all aspects of sex, including same-room sex at house parties, partner swapping, and orgies on the old Red, White, and Blue nude beach. So Akeem's sexual experience had breadth and depth. His group of friends treated sex as a full-contact participatory sport.

Samantha plopped down in the chair next to her son and crossed her legs at the ankles with her knees spread. Distracted by the lingering effects of the weed, the beer, and residual sexual arousal from her unsatisfying tryst with Agustin, she was careless about exposing herself to her son.

When he glanced to the side, in the moonlight, he could see the soft curve of one breast almost exposed to the nipple by the partially open robe. His mother's spread legs allowed him to see well up her thighs. However, he could only imagine what lay further up because of the low light.

Years later, they would realize that night was seminal in their sexual relationship. The night was warm and moonlit. The isolation of the campsite made it feel like they were cut off from the world and its strictures.

They were both aroused; Akeem from listening to his parents having sex; Samantha from the coitus interruptus that was a fact of her married life. On this romantic moonlit night, she had an itch. The alcohol and reefer lowered her inhibitions enough that the unthinkable was possible at an unconscious level.

"Akeem! You're 18, and we let you have a few beers and a joint to celebrate. However, like everything else, it should be done in moderation."

"Aww, mom! I just had one more beer and finished off that roach you and dad left."

"Okay, baby! Okay!"

She pumped her arms, palms down in the universal sign to slow down. One hand dropped. She intended to pat his thigh. Instead, her hand fell on his cock. She patted it before she realized what she was patting. She snatched her hand back as though she had touched a hot poker.

He is enormous, she thought, much bigger than his father.

"I'm so sorry, Akeem! I didn't intend to do that!"

She brought the offending hand to her chest. She flapped it and then pressed it against her substantial bosom. Accidentally touching her son's cock flustered Samantha!

"Uhhh! That's okay, mom!"

Akeem's cock, already at half-mast, hardened at his mother's touch.

He glanced at her, sitting next to him, perspiring. The flickering of the dying embers in the fire and the moonlight made her sweating face gleam. To Akeem, she was even more beautiful than ever.

"I mean, it was an accident! I didn't mean to grab your...!" Samantha stopped, searching for the proper word.

"You mean my cock, mom!"

Akeem was surprised that he used that word in front of his mother. In school, he and his buddies often used that word. It had just slipped out with his mother.

Samantha knew Agustin had The Talk with him. In this day and age, when people talked about free love and tuning in, turning on, and dropping out, they wanted to be sure he understood the risks.