The Interruption

"That's Frances," murmured Joanne. "She doesn't sound right."

Steve cursed, inside. "Oh, she's maybe had a little too much to drink – she'll be OK."

"No, Steve," said Joanne. "It might be – the other thing. She's been with Eddie, and Jacko. I'll have to check ...... make sure she's all right."

She slipped out of his embrace, pulling on a short nightdress.

"Don't be long," groaned Steve. She grinned, and leant down to give his erection a squeeze. "I won't," she replied. "You just keep this warm for me."

She slipped out of the room, and Steve leaned over and picked up the whisky bottle from the bedside table...

Joanne was conscious, as she slipped along the landing, that she was still half-drunk – and very fired up, sexually. But she had to make sure her daughter was all right, before she could attend to her own needs. Jacko's recent drug escapades made her very wary of Frances associating with him, but the girl was 18, now, and she couldn't keep her locked up...

As she knocked softly on Frances' door, and entered, her daughter was pulling down her jeans, with some difficulty. As she got them halfway down her thighs, she staggered, and sat down on the side of the bed.

"Are you all right, love?" asked Joanne. Frances looked up at her, a curious look in her eyes. At first, Joanne thought she looked a bit 'spaced-out', and her heart sank, then she realised Frances was taking in her mother's state of undress. Too late, Joanne realised that the nightdress she had dragged on afforded her little cover. It was not only transparent, but also very short. It didn't even cover her hips.

Of course, she had no embarrassment about her daughter seeing her body, but she was still a little reserved about pushing her sex life with Steve into her daughter's face.

Frances sneered at her, nodding at Joanne's ineffectual nightdress, as she dragged her jeans off.

"Interrupted something, did I?" she accused. "Was 'big boy' giving you one?"

"Now, Frances," remonstrated her mother, but Frances laughed, bitterly.

"How many does that make it, tonight, then?" she said. "Let's see – there was Oliver Stirling, in the woods..."

Joanne froze. "That was you, then," she whispered, aghast.

"Oh, sure," flung out the girl, "but don't mind me..."

"But how...?" her mother stammered.

"Me and Eddie and Jacko were just settling down – having a bit of a smoke, if you must know, when we heard Stirling's voice. Well, the boys reckoned he'd come out with that stuck-up tart from the hotel – for a bit of nooky – so we stood up, for a look. And sure enough, there he was, with some tart, her tits hanging out, and his hand up her knickers, and she was moaning and groaning …… Only it wasn't snooty Caroline, was it? It was good old Joanne, getting a fucking good fingering..."

"Oh, Frances," said Joanne. "I'm sorry – it – well, it was just one of these things. I maybe drank a bit too much. I'm not really sure how it started, but – nothing else happened..."

"Oh, didn't it?" retorted her daughter. "Well, maybe not to you. You took off like a scalded fucking cat, didn't you? And left me with those two..."

She took a deep shuddering breath, and dropped her hot, angry eyes.

"What happened, love?" Joanne had to ask, her heart thumping.

"It was Jacko," her daughter replied. "Watching – it turned him on – it excited him. He said – things – about you – your tits, and things, then he said – 'Let's have a look at your tits, Frances!' I told him to fuck off, but he was really pushy and he grabbed at me. I pushed him away and told Eddie to sort him out, but then Eddie said – 'Go on, Frances – let's have a look – come on – we're your mates. Mates are supposed to share!' I told him to fuck off, too, but then Jacko grabbed my arms and – and..."

Frances took a shuddering breath, and shook her head, unable to speak.

"What did he do?" asked Joanne. Her mouth was dry, remembering a journey in the back of a van with a country and western group when she was nineteen. There had been seven in the group, and just Joanne and her friend, Annie – and no escape...

"Jacko – held my arms, and Eddie – touched me. He put his hands on me and – and squeezed – and Jacko said – 'Pull her fucking shirt up, you dick.' And Eddie lifted my t-shirt and pulled it over my head. Then Jacko undid my bra, and they both started touching me – feeling my tits, and squeezing them. It ended up with Eddie holding my arms, and Jacko was all over me, with his hands, and his mouth – then he pulled open the front of my jeans and pushed his hand between my legs, on my panties ......"

"And what happened then, love?" Joanne was almost scared to ask, but Frances sniffed and said - "Eddie told Jacko that was enough, and made him stop. In fact, they had a fight, and I thought I'd better get out of it..."

"Whass all this, then?" Steve suddenly appeared, lurching against the doorjamb, the whisky bottle in his hand and a lascivious grin on his face. "Who was feeling your tits?"

"Jacko – and Eddie!" replied Frances, defiantly, and without hesitation. "Why – jealous, are you?"

"Too fucking right," said Steve, pushing himself round the doorjamb. "I've fancied a feel of your tits for a while, now..."

Joanne whirled round.

"Steve!" she cried, then screamed at him, when she saw him. He was totally naked, his thick cock, half-tumescent, rising above his heavy, hairy balls.

"You get out of here – right now!" yelled Joanne, jumping up from the bed. But, as she rose, Steve pushed her back down and she fell back, her nightdress round her waist, legs in the air. Steve's cock jerked upright a little more, and he laughed, drunkenly.

"Aha," he said. "Ready – and waiting!"

He sat down heavily, between mother and daughter, his left hand holding Joanne down on her back as it groped between her parted thighs, his fingers twined round her thick bush of pubic hair, their tips pushing between her still moist vaginal lips.

Then he turned his head to look at Frances. His cock was fully hard, now, and she was staring at it, jutting up from between his thighs.

"Jesus," she breathed. "It is a big 'un, isn't it?"

Steve looked at her again, taking in the expression on her face. The customary look of disdain she normally wore when speaking to him was absent, her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted. His eyes slid down her body, taking in her bare thighs, and the indentation of her vaginal cleft showing clearly through her tight flower-patterned panties. His cock throbbed ……

Reaching across, he took hold of Frances’ slim wrist.

"Here," he said. "Would you like to feel it?"

"No!" screeched Joanne, thrashing round, trying to get up, but Steve held her down, easily, and Frances allowed her hand to be drawn over Steve's knees, then, of her own volition, closed her fingers round his throbbing organ.

“Nice,” she breathed, closing her eyes, and sliding her hand slowly up the length of the rigid shaft.

Steve released her hand, and felt the inside of her taut, firm thigh. He felt her fingers stroking his cock, and his testicles tensed in anticipation. Lovingly, he slid his hand up the smooth skin of the inside of his stepdaughter's thigh. As his fingers touched the crotch of her panties, he felt a telltale dampness. Pressing the tips of his fingers against it, he felt the material give as it was pushed into her moist cleft.

He pulled at the material, and inserted two fingers under it. He felt her pussy lips, slippery and warm, then pushed his fingers inside her channel, instinctively feeling for her g-spot. As he found it, Frances’ body jerked, as if in a spasm ......

Joanne had struggled up into a sitting position, now, watching, horrified, as Steve expertly manipulated her daughter’s inexperienced pussy, making the girl gasp and cry out, ecstatically.

"Steve – you bastard – cut it out!" sobbed Joanne. "She's only a kid!"

Steve’s only response was to move his hand away from Joanne’s crotch, to slide it up under Frances' t-shirt, and it was Frances, herself, who replied, angrily.

"I'm no kid, Mum – I'm 18, now. And I'm no virgin, either – I've been shagging Eddie – and Jacko – for over a year, now – and one or two guys, at college."

"But – tonight – you said ......" stammered Joanne.

"Yeah," sneered her daughter. "I've been fucking them both, but neither one knows about the other, and Eddie reckoned Jacko was muscling in on his territory when he started feeling me up. That's why they had a fight..."

Her voice trailed away as Steve pulled her t-shirt over her head, and Frances raised her arms to assist its passage. She reached up behind her back, and unclipped her bra, and slid it down her arms.

"What d'you think then, Steve?" She smiled at him, her hands cupping her round, firm breasts. "They’re not as big as Mum's, but they’re not so floppy, either."

Steve grinned at her, and moved his fingers a little inside her vagina. Frances closed her hands round her naked breasts, squeezing them hard, making her slim pink nipples stand out. Steve pushed her gently backwards. She fell back, willingly, on to the duvet cover, and sighed with pleasure as Steve bent over her. His right hand cupped her left breast, while his mouth descended on her right nipple.

With his other hand, Steve pulled the girl’s panties down. She raised her hips and, using both hands, slid them off her legs and feet. Frances' hand slid down over her stomach, through her sparse blonde pubic bush, and located her clitoris. Drawing her knees up, her short, but shapely, legs spread apart, her fingers teased her moist lips, while her thumb rubbed her hard button. Joanne was on her feet, now, a welter of mixed emotions.

Through her outrage, and – yes – disappointment, there was a curious sense of arousal. Her daughter, spread wide as she was, now, fingering her erect clitoris, reminded her so much of herself at that age – a healthy sexual animal, always ready to sample a new, big cock.

Joanne knew that, had the positions been reversed, she would have acted like Frances – taking the initiative. And, after all, Frances was 'family' – it wasn't really as if Steve was 'straying' – and, he had such an appetite for fucking, Joanne knew he would be able to keep them both happy, until Frances moved on to pastures new...

Joanne reached out a hand and slid it round her husband's long, thick cock. She was tempted to drop her head and close her lips round it, but resisted and instead, guided it between her daughter’s open, waiting thighs.

Steve felt Joanne’s hand close round his excited shaft and, with a thrill of triumph, realised that she had bowed to the inevitable – that she was acquiescing in his fucking her daughter’s hot teenage body.

He quickly shifted his position, so that he was crouching over the excited, moaning girl, and luxuriated in the sensation of his wife steering the bulbous head of his rock-hard penis into the girl’s tight soaking entrance.

He held it there for as long as he could, savouring the feel of her taut young muscles gripping the ultra-sensitive spot just below his corona, then braced his hips and plunged downwards.

Frances' gasp was followed by a series of ecstatic moans as her stepfather's thick cock slid up her tight channel, and her thighs locked, vicelike, round his waist as he started to ride her ......

Joanne got to her feet, unsteadily, her eyes hot as she watched Frances writhing in pleasure, her breasts flattened against Steve’s chest, her thighs clamped round him, pulling his thrusting cock into her wide-open pussy.

She licked the ends of her fingers as she watched, then rubbed them into her hardening nipples. Then one hand slid down to caress her moist, leaking slit. She saw the first throes of orgasm begin to assail her daughter – saw her fingers tighten and whiten on Steve’s back – saw her young body tense, then erupt into a shaking, screaming spasm, then another, and another ......

Joanne could see that Steve had not climaxed, himself, and another thrill coursed through her as Frances’ spasmodic jerking grew weaker, and her breathing re-commenced, in deep shuddering gasps. Frances’ hands slid away from her stepfather’s back, and her ankles unlocked their grip round his waist, her legs falling back on to the duvet, parted in total surrender.

Joanne walked forward, pulling her nightdress over her head. She placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder, letting her sumptuous naked breasts nestle against his broad back. Her other hand slid between his muscular thighs, cupping his heavy testicles momentarily, then reaching forward to close round his blood-engorged penis, as it slid out of Frances’ satiated cunt, still coated with her juices ......

Joanne eased her husband away from the recumbent form of her daughter, until he was lying on his back, beside her. His penis jutted upwards, and Joanne straddled his waist, lowering her aroused pussy on to him, glorying in the sensation as it slid easily upwards, into her, filling her up...

His hands rose to clutch her breasts, pulling her thick nipples, and Joanne raised her hips, then slid back down on him again. She glanced downwards, to the side. Frances’ eyes were open – alive and curious – as she watched her mother glide up and down on Steve’s thick prick, her hand already straying between her thighs as the excitement mounted again.

Her other hand slid sideways on the duvet cover, and her mother reached down and took it as their shared lover began to push his hips upwards...

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