tagIncest/TabooMom and I at the Swap Club

Mom and I at the Swap Club

byclinton09©

[©2010 BY CLINTON09; ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18 WITH IDENTITIES DISGUISED; FOR AGES 21 OR ABOVE]

*

The tired old expression is, I think, 'the grass is always greener on the other side'. My father must have thought so. He operated a home construction firm that covered our home town and two others. The seed investment money for it was from my mother's family. I worked at the same company (a long story; suffice it to say that I am 19 and that I was kicked out of the house by him at 18; at least he knew good cheap labor and had me work for him.)

Though he was married at the time, he thought nothing of hiring a hot babe to be his 'personal secretary'. I happened to see her on the day she applied. A hot brunette, she wasn't very top heavy but she had legs to die for and she wore a skirt that was perhaps ten inches long. I have to concede as a man, I would've hired her too.

So, the cast of characters to this little melodrama is this: Mal, my father, 50, and not obsessed about the concept of marriage. Sue, my mother, 39, actually was consumed with the concept of marriage. Your faithful narrator, Jim, 19, still single and just getting by. Kitten, age 19, trampy new hire of my dad. My dad was worried about getting old; balding and a little (ok, a lot) flabby. My mom never went to any clubs or worked out. On the other hand, she took care of the household (cleaning, cooking) and moreover shopped every day. Walking the giant malls was like fast walking miles per day. As a result, as dad got more cherubic sitting behind a desk, mom maintained her girlish figure. I mean, that Kitten minx was Heather Locklear/Lindsay Lohan hot legwise, but mom's hour glass figure included some serious hooters, to be perfectly 'earthy' about it.

The last year saw some changes, now that I had moved out. For one thing, dad spent more and more time away from home, basically deserting mom for unannounced 'business meetings'. Mom sensed there was something 'afoot'; this depressed her. Luckily, unlike most people, mom ate less and not more in such circumstances. Though I'd never wish anxiety for my loving mother, the stress made her diet (in effect) to the point that she had a Hollywood starlet worthy 36D-24-37 figure. One day, she came to my pathetic little apartment, all that I could afford after being unceremoniously ejected by dear old dad on my 18th birthday...before we even cut the cake that mom had made...

Mom came in, wearing a yellow tight fitting blouse, a wrap around white skirt, and sexy high strappy sandals. The shoes had been a gift from her best friend. Well, she wiggled into my humble abode, her heavy breasts bouncing, still shapely legs shown off by that skirt, a cut strategically running up the side from knee to hip. She sat down on the only chair I had; I flopped on a bean bag on the floor. I did not plan this at all...really. Mom was so intent on talking to me that she took no notice of her position (sitting bolt upright on a chair) or mine (looking up slightly, with a perfect vantage point to look at her while stealing a glance at her panties.) With her shapely legs slightly open as she sat, I had a clear look at those panties...if only she had been wearing any. Shades of Sharon Stone, and I got as hard for my mom as I did for that 'police interrogation' scene with Ms. Stone.

Mom: "Jim, you've done wonders with this little place of yours. [I smiled, knowing that was pure 'mom talk' for 'what a dump'] Sweetheart, have you noticed anything about your father at work, since you work there."

Me: "What do you mean 'notice anything'?"

Mom: "Well, anything odd about what he does, where he goes, WITH WHOM he does these things?"

Me: [I took a deep breath.] "Well, he hired this hot little brunette as his personal assistant. I am good friends with Miss Crump, you know, his longtime secretary. She and that younger woman have been at war, with Kitten winning out every time. I think I can get some real 'intel' on dad for you, if you want me to."

Mom: "Honey, I hate to ask you to do this, but I can't go on not knowing if I am imagining things or not. So, as your loving mom I ask you, BEG YOU, do whatever it takes to find out what is going on there."

Me: "I will mom, for you."

I got up with difficulty, damn bean bag. I went to my beautiful mother and hugged her as she sat. She was redolent with expensive perfume and jingling with her two charm bracelets. She wiggled out after an innocent kiss on my cheek. As her hips swayed going down the stairs, her oversized jugs visibly rising and falling, I noticed that for some reason, her nipples were erect and sticking out like thumbs. There also was the slightest hint of moisture or dampness on the bikini-waxed thighs below her (non-existent) panties. For the first time in my life, I got hard over mom...rock hard. As I turned to go back to my apartment after waving her good bye, my basketball shorts exploded in the front, my ten inch erection bursting out. I quickly retreated to my apartment, glad no one was outside to notice.

Ah, the wonderful Miss Crump. She was about 55 and married. We called her 'Miss' because she was single most of her life and her new husband was under-whelming her. She was no miraculously preserved babe like Sophia Loren or Farrah, but she was not without her charms. I had to take a chance on her and did. I knew she worked without a break until five sharp. She then had to go home to her boring husband, 65, going on 90. You can imagine the surprise of this matron when I asked if I could take her out to dinner. She smiled, sensing something fishy, and begged off. Strike one. I tried the next day. Strike two. On Friday of that week, I noted that she and I were all that were left at five. In desperation, I undid my fly and plopped my mammoth ten inch phallus on her desk. She recoiled as if it were a rattler. I didn't retreat.

Me: "Miss Crump, I would like to take you out to that French restaurant you have been reading about that your 'old man' says is too expensive. Then I want to take you back to my place and have my way with you. So, what about it; nouveau haute cuisine and hot love, or another night of Mrs. Paul's partly thawed fish sticks and Lawrence Welk on PBS?" [I cringed, awaiting either mace or a quick call to 9-11.]

Wordlessly, Miss Crump arose and walked over to me. With no warning, she slapped me, hard(!) As I held my jaw, she grabbed my love log, putting it in her right hand, with the left index finger running across the length of it maddeningly. I closed my eyes, hoping I could control myself when I heard the words:

Miss Crump: "You really are like your father said, a 'musclebound thug who bounces around town flaunting his oversized private parts hoping to find some slut with no taste or morals who will sleep with him'. If you think that I am that kind of slut, you are RIGHT. Let me call my micro-equipped old fogey hubby and tell him that we have a seminar in Vegas or somewhere, and I will be out of pocket for a while." [She dropped my cock, which returned to my stomach with a hard slap, the uncut head well above my navel. She caressed my massively over-developed arm muscles and shoulders and then kissed me like a 20 year old slattern.]

We went to that restaurant, which ate up all of my spending money for the next month. Miss Crump loved it. I was careful to get a bottle of their cheapest house wine and give her six glasses by meal's end. It was not easy to get her to the valet station or hold her upright while he fetched my Mustang.

Back in my little tenement, I proceeded to undress this deceptively sexy matron. I had to take my words back; she dressed old but really did look as good as any woman at 55.

Me: "Miss Crump, I didn't bring you here for anything but to give you the loving that I think you've needed. On the other hand, my beloved mom would like to know if anything has been going on with my father and his new assistant, Kitten. Also, why did he spend $10,000 for 'other expenses'? The credit card company was concerned enough to call us for confirmation."

Miss Crump: [Speaking slightly tipsy.] "I...I can't turn on your father after all of these years...so many years of loyal employment."

Me: "Sure, loyal employment by you for him; yet when he had a lucrative new job open up, he gave it to some leggy tramp and not his long-time secretary."

She nodded and then shook her head, indicating she wasn't 'biting on my trap.' Once again, as in the office, I had to take a chance. I again wielded my mighty ten inch wand. Since I had stripped the almost drunk executive secretary, I had access; I stood her up and closed up to her. I took her hands and put them on my cock. To my relief, she finally 'got into it'. She rubbed the uncut oversized head against the slavering lips of her cunt. That uncut head befriended her labia and that elusive clitoris. She hadn't noticed that I had been gently and slowly backing her up to the wall. Finally, I pushed her hands away and drove into her with all of my manual labor power. She gasped from the assault, while looking towards the ceiling in pleasure. I commenced to pound her without restraint or rest; finally, her eyes clouded in tears from the pent-up passion, I pressed her with all my might, pushing my babymaker as deep as I could. After all those years of inactivity, her cervical area still remembered how to drink in the very seed of life. This matron was getting every drop of my potent seed; there was no way a 55 year old secretary could get knocked up, but I imagined she could in order to get the pumps going. Sure enough, I had so much pent-up sperm in my swollen testes that the excess started oozing out.

We both collapsed on that damn bean bag chair.

Miss Crump: "That was so damn hot; you little bastard. You win, I will tell you. Your dad has been banging that little trollop since he hired her at that outrageous salary. I know because she told her boyfriend, joking about his barely THREE inch private parts. That $10,000? He bought into the swappers' private gold club. He was going to tell your trusting mom that there was another convention and that he'd be gone the weekend. Now, I don't know. About what WE just did, you DID have a vasectomy, I assume. I mean you didn't concern yourself with birth control questions, so I just assumed..."

Me: "Actually no; I assumed that YOU had it taken care of, either by pills, implants or, umm, if you will forgive me, age."

Miss Crump: "That was quite an assumption, young man. As it turns out..." [She came up to me, pulling on my full head of hair, caressing my bulging biceps, and squeezing my eternally hard cock.] "...there is a very slim chance that I could get pregnant. But checking the goods, I could never afford a sperm donor like you, so why not give 'my old man' the ultimate thrill and let him think that he can still 'do it'?" [She kissed me really hard.]

She slept with me that night. It really was a nice evening and one that she was not likely to have again. We went to sleep after a quick love session at 2am. Probably due to the earlier love-making, at 3:14 am she was awakened. For some reason, she felt a bit dizzy and her nipples had erected. Mysteriously, they had turned a light tan color from the pink that they were hours ago. Unknown to her, she had just conceived with my baby. Months later, with my mom's permission, I held Miss Crump's hand as she proudly gave birth to our baby. Her addled 'old man' was so proud of himself for this achievement 'of his'.

Anyway, with this 'intel' from my job at dad's business, I reported to mom with it. She arranged for pictures to be secured for a divorce proceeding from an agency. Then there was the matter of the $10,000 of OUR household money for a little swap club for daddy and his tramp. Mom confronted him with that; I was right outside their closed bedroom door, in case she needed help but also because I loved this kind of gossip. He said that the membership was nonrefundable, but he had purchased it for them (i.e. he and mom.) In fact, he said, this weekend was going to be the first time they (he and mom?) would go. Unfortunately, he could not go due to a meeting in Atlantic City (he showed her the plane ticket.) He DID say that the membership was cancelled if you did not go even one week, or arrived with no partner. So, he had the wild idea that mom should go that 1st week without him. He didn't want her to have to go and scare up a boyfriend, so since it was about having sex with OTHERS, there would be no harm in taking me!

Mom knew that he was fooling around with that brunette harlot. She thought about this swap thing. Her detective would now have a solid lead (the plane ticket) to photograph him and his concubine getting off the plane, in a taxi, hotel room, etc. It was just too important. Mom took the swingers' initiation packet and said she'd go.

Mom scoured the packet, noting that the fees WERE refundable. If we went, two available partners, spent the entire weekend there, AND didn't enjoy it, we could get a full refund! So, now mom not only had a reason to let him go fly away with his little floozy, she was almost compelled to go thru with the swap club thing too. She had hoped to just ignore it and let it lapse. But $10,000 being $10,000, she thought it might be hot to see what a real man's cock was like, after years of neglect from her tinker toy equipped worn out husband. There was no harm in taking me along as escort; I would be banging someone else (remember 'swap club') for that same weekend.

So everything was set in motion. Mom's treacherous old man was flying off with his Jezebel, a nondescript 40 year old 'housewife' from the agency following them with a matchbox camera. I for my part was asked, begged by my wonderful mom to try out this swap club. I told her I would do it for her and only her (and that $10,000 too of course; I was offered half.)

Mom and I arrived at the club. It was two cities away. Given that and the fact that mom had never been there before, no one raised an eyebrow over me. They just thought she was a cougar on the prowl.

We had to fill out intro cards, with everything but our names. Then we opened sealed envelopes with our code number...a computer would randomize and select couples for the weekend. To ensure that you were anonymous BUT wouldn't end up with the one you brought, you were to code in a letter (for us, 'g') at the bottom of the card. Mom was good at following instructions and printed that 'g'. I was more lackadaisical and thought they had enough input from me already, so I omitted the all-important 'g'.

The machine whirred away and spit out sealed assignments, room by room. First the women got their cards, going to the separate rooms. I told mom good luck. Then the men got their assignments. I was amused the room was 222. I went into that room (Hey, don't get ahead of the narrative!) and, yes, found that due to my slip-up, I was assigned mom's room.

Mom: "This would be hilarious if it were an adult sit com. Obviously, we can't go thru with this. I'll just tell the office that..."

Me: [To her amazement, I grabbed her by the shoulder gently. I smiled broadly.] "Wait a moment, mom. It says that we can get a refund IF we spend a weekend AFTER attending AND providing a suitable pair of participants. When you go protest, they will say that I was NOT eligible and thus that $10,000 is gone."

Mom: [Fuming.] "So, what, you want to spend the weekend staring at each other."

Me: "Mom, I am no psychologist, but didn't you leave my apartment with those nipples popped, and your excitement evident down your glistening thighs?"

She came up to me and slapped me...hard. Twice in one week? I grabbed her hands and held them in one hand. With the other hand, I held it back like a slap to be.

Me: "Mom, you slapped me, but I will not hit you...ever. I love you mom. I want you to go thru with this...I want you nude mom, NUDE!! Get those clothes off or they will be torn off and you can leave at the end of the weekend in a rain barrel."

Mom quickly stripped, folding the clothes neatly on a chair. She covered her perfect breasts with one hand, and her welcoming furry blonde bush with the other. My clothes were history in seconds, my cock instantly hard as stone. In desperation, mom saw a box of Trojans and removed a foil wrapped condom.

Me: "Mom, I don't intend to wear a condom; we will make love bareback. If you want, you can put that one on me. It should look cute."

She wondered what I meant. She wasn't strong enough to open the foil and had me do it. She deployed the condom, noting it was two sizes bigger than her wimpy hubby used to use. Put on my powerful tool, it looked like a child's shower cap on a full-sized man's head. She flung it into the garbage in despair. All she could do now was hold her hands up as if I were a vampire. That hurt my feelings.

Me: "Mom, I will tell you what. Let me have 15 minutes, just 15 minutes to convince you that I love you and that we should stay the weekend. I swear that if you still want to go after 15 minutes, we will go...period."

Mom nodded, so relieved at that offer that she hugged me, oblivious to the fact that my huge cock was erect and was flat against my stomach as we hugged.

She asked how we were going to do this. I instructed her to lie on the cot that each room was provided. She did. I said that I would have 15 minutes to convince her to stay the weekend, starting at 7:30 even. And, with a setting of the sleeper control for 7:45, I was off...

Closing over mom, I used my cock to brush the labia as it was pushed back and forth, with slight side-to-side motion. The clitoris was given its due. I had just enough time to plunge in to tap at the back walls, say hello to her cervix, and then partially withdraw. I ground my rough, uncut oversized cockhead against the sensitive vaginal walls, tingling them to the point that mom closed her eyes, moaning. To my horror, I saw the clock strike 7:45. Since it was 7:45 I started pulling out, in abject defeat. As that sleeper control tolled, informing me that I had lost, mom moaned in her 1st orgasm...really loud too. Unsure now, I slowly pulled out, hoping for a reprieve. Sure enough, mom's elegant hand grabbed me, with her charm bracelet jingling.

Mom: "Wait, where are you going, Jimmy. I need your cock in me, now, right now."

Me: "But mom, the clock went off and..."

Mom: "To hell with the clock! You made your point; you win! Now come love your mommy, honey!"

I couldn't believe it. It was literally like making the last shot at a basketball game at the buzzer. My cock swelled to its full ten inch magnificence once more, returning to tantalize and massage the aching, sex-starved inner recesses of my gorgeous mother's fertile depths. Just as with Miss Crump, I did not take the slightest care about birth control with my mother, even though she was 39 and no matron. I was determined to make love to my beautiful mother. Besides the love I had for her as a good son, there was the matter of her spectacular figure. This might be the only chance I had to bed a woman worthy of Playboy, if that magazine wanted a successor to the gorgeous 50 year old Farrah Fawcett.

I sat on the only chair in that tiny room, waving mom to come over and be with me. She got the idea immediately and poised herself over my outsized cock. As she sat on it, her head pointed upwards as she moaned in pleasure. My cock had never felt such a welcoming tight fit. Her still powerful inner muscles gave that ten inch ram rod quite a squeeze. To my amazement, mom took over control of our little love session. Rising up and down on her flawless smooth feet, she rose to the point that my flowery cockhead was just tapping against the dripping tissues that stood guard over her blessed inner womanhood. We had the whole weekend for lovemaking, so we did everything time and time again. During this our first experience of love and mutual orgasm, my cock was introduced to mom's long neglected but so very hot and tight fertile vagina. So it was up and down, in and out, for several minutes. Then she fell with terrific force, making my hugely swollen testes bounce and jounce. Her cunt lips were forced down to the very base of my lengthy cock. Our lips were locked, our hot breath exchanged. My needful hands were gripping her motherly but still firm behind.

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