Two Moms, Two Laps: Home Rules

"I know," I said, stroking her smooth back. "When I said I wanted to share you, I meant like now. He can have you sometimes, and so can I. Not together."

She ran her tongue across my chest, making my erection harden. "I know, sugar. It's just too easy to tease you."

She sat up, looking at the clock. "We have to stop now. There's still a lot I need to do before your old man gets home. We'll have time together later, I promise, Ok? I'm sorry to leave you like this."

I sat up, pulling her to me for a quick kiss. "Don't apologize. That was spectacular. But just because we're being naughty, doesn't mean the house has to suffer, right? If you were late with dinner every time we did anything, that wouldn't be good."

She grinned, climbing off the bed and heading for her bathroom. "See? That kind of thinking will make sure that there's plenty of this," she waved her hand up and down her body, like she was modeling, "in your future." She did a little spin for me, then turned and wiggled her ass. "Lots of this, too, if you're very, very good."

I headed to my room for my third shower of the day. Wouldn't be good to go to the dinner table smelling of sex and Mom.

* * *

We always ate pretty early, and that night was no different. Dad came home and changed out of his suit, while Mom put the finishing touches on dinner. I set the table in the kitchen, where we ate most of the time, unable to stop myself from staring at my Mom's ass every chance I got. Damn, I'd been so close.

She was wearing light grey yoga pants, so tight they crawled up her butt, and when she leaned over, I could see the perfect outline of her incredible pussy. It was obvious she wasn't wearing panties. This was a Mom I didn't know or recognize. My Mom would never wear pants like that where anybody could see her. Hell, I wasn't even sure if Aunt Marie would.

Mom was a yoga fanatic, going to the studio nearly every day. She mostly went in the mornings, but a couple of times a week she'd go in the evening, sometimes both. I loved those yoga pants on her, but her normal wear was black, and never this tight. These were practically obscene. God bless her.

When Dad came down, she was leaning over the oven, checking on the roast. He walked up behind her, obviously ogling her ass. He ran his hand over her butt, down her crack, sliding it between her legs.

Mom gasped, looking back at him, and rolled her hips teasingly.

"Harold..." she warned him, looking over at me.

Dad looked over his shoulder at me, gave me a wink, and smacked Mom on the rear.

Jesus. We were in new territory now.

Mom and Dad kept their intimacy behind closed doors, except for the usual kisses in greeting, and some evening cuddling. I'd never seen him fondle her like that. I felt like he was laying claim to her.

"How'd the butchering go?" he asked me, sitting down at the table.

"Not bad. Got maybe a quarter of it done. Colin wasn't much help, no stomach for it."

Mom turned to me. "Fetch your father a beer from the garage."

I ran out to the beer fridge, returning with a Shiner. His daily beer. Walking into the kitchen, I came to a halt. Mom was bent over, kissing Dad deeply, and his hand was between her legs again. When she pulled away, I could see she was blushing. "Now that's how you welcome your man home," he said grinning, holding his hand out to me for his beer.

I couldn't help staring at Mom. To go with those painted on Yoga pants, she was wearing a skin-tight white yoga top, and her nipples were so hard, I could see the outline of her areola. This was fucking nuts.

Mom served up dinner, and we ate, casually talking about cleaning up after our trip. There was still plenty to do, butchering, gun cleaning and maintenance, vehicle work, and lots more. I wasn't looking forward to it, but I had to admit, summers at the cabin were worth the trouble before and after.

"You going to the studio?" Dad asked, a comment on Mom's outfit.

"If you don't mind. It's been over a week. You know how I get," Mom replied.

"Go ahead. Jeremy and I will finish up with the meat. Don't worry about the dishes, we'll take care of them," he told her.

She glanced at the clock. "I don't have to leave quite yet, I can do them."

Dad shook his head. "Nonsense. I know you like to get there early. Go on."

Mom cleared her own dishes, then came over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. She turned and gave Dad a kiss, and it was almost as good at the one I'd interrupted. Damn, they were in a lovey-dovey mood.

As soon as Mom left, Dad had me on the dishes, while he got things started in the garage. I was happy enough to work separately from him. I was feeling nervous about what had happened with Mom and Aunt Marie, and what he knew about it. I figured that his behavior with Mom that evening must have had something to do with it.

I couldn't spend the whole night washing dishes, and it wasn't long before I was in the garage, back to butchering the beef. It was illuminating watching Dad work. What had taken me half a day to do, he was able to finish in minutes.

"Don't just stand there," he said, "get working."

"I'll only get in your way. You'll finish twice as fast by yourself."

"Yep. But gettin' done fastest ain't what we're talkin' here. Only way to learn is to get in there, get your hands dirty, and give it your best."

He watched over my work, spare with his advice, more apt to show me how it was done, then correct my work. His work with the knife looked so smooth and easy. "I don't see how I'll ever be able to do it as good as you," I admitted.

He laughed. "Are we competing now? I've had a hell of a lot more practice. All I ever want is for you to give it your best, learn from your mistakes, and never settle for good enough."

He showed me his pinkie on his left hand, which was missing the final joint. "Speed is not the end game. Rushing things can make a mess out of everything. I learned that the hard way. I only pray that you can learn from my mistakes."

"If speed ain't the name of the game, how come you finish so damned fast?" I asked, only half joking.

"Skill's all that counts. You get the skills down, the second nature, automatic ability to do anything as naturally as breathing, and the speed comes with the territory. You can finish fast, or you can drag it out as long as you desire. You can do a 'good enough' job, or you can achieve perfection. Focus on the skill, not the speed."

We'd already done the rough work in the field, skinning and gutting the pig, and cutting it into three parts, shoulder, body and hindquarters, for transportation.

I was working my knife down the bone, turning the handle to angle the blade close to the bone, without catching it. When I had it right, the meat turned to butter, the razor sharp edge of my blade gliding along perfectly. Dad put his big hand on my shoulder, giving a painful squeeze. "There, that was it. Technique. You do that 100 times without having to concentrate on it, and the knife will not only slide through, but you can do it as fast as you want."

I stopped to sharpen my blade, and Dad hit the beer fridge, dropping an open one in front of me. I took a long draught, enjoying the cold refreshment.

"Sounded like you and your Mom had a hell of a conversation last night, quite a bit of it at my expense," Dad said casually, wrapping up the meat, the easy job, while watching me deal with the more technical butchering.

"I wouldn't call it at your expense. That woman worships the ground you walk on. I can only pray that someday a woman feels for me like Mom feels for you." I had my snips out, cutting out two racks of ribs from the torso I was working on.

"Not exactly typical mother/son conversation, though."

"Hardly." I had a feeling I knew where this was going, and figured it was just as well if I took control over the conversation. "Truth is, I didn't know about the issues between Mom and her sister. During the first half of our drive home, things between me and Aunt Marie got a good bit carried away, and during our rest stop, Aunt Marie rubbed Mom's nose in it. When Mom got in the car she was livid, and had to know everything that went on between us."

"Do I want to know how bad it got in the backseat?" Dad asked, taking the ribs from me, and passing me another torso.

I laughed. "As long as you promise not to get jealous. To start with, having her sit on my lap, half-clothed in the dark, was bad enough, but I gotta lay some of this at your feet. Things were ok, until she started bouncing around the back seat like a Superball, thanks to your driving. Trying to hang onto her was like trying to hold on to a greased pig, and without even intending it, I was holding onto her in places that were pretty damn interesting."

Dad laughed. "You can thank me for that later."

"Thank you?"

"Hell yeah. You think I don't know what Marie's like? When I saw those women stripping down to their T-shirts and panties, I knew she was up to no good. Your Mom might have some self-control, but Marie's a walking hormone. I figured a little bouncing around might do my boy a little good. I don't think there was a single pot-hole I missed."

I laughed. "I guess I do owe you a thanks. Troublemaker. Mom mentioned how Aunt Marie welcomed you into their home the first time."

"She was brazen, no doubt about it. Naked big titty teenager climbing in the shower with me. To this day, I still haven't told your mother the whole story, for fear it would cause a rift between 'em that might never heal."

I chuckled. "Don't hold back on my account."

Dad took a sip of his bear. "No you don't. This story telling ain't about me, not this time."

I couldn't believe we were talking like that. Once we'd started hunting, we joked around more, and hinted at things, but not so openly. I told him about holding Aunt Marie, playing with her, stripping her practically naked. Getting my hand in her pants, and how she'd been playing with me.

"Pretty incredible, I bet. Almost shameful the way God split them up. Blessing your Mom with the most incredible ass ever, and legs that can stop traffic, then putting that unbelievable rack on her sister."

"Good thing you're an ass-man," I teased.

"Good thing your Mom believes that," he said softly.

I let that statement go, afraid to chase down that trail. "I swear, Dad, I'd have been happy as hell just to get to play with her tits. The fondling and feeling her up was a bonus. It's those damn tits of hers I've been dreaming about since I was old enough to care."

"Join the team, bucko. I don't know a man alive that could resist 'em."

"Yet, somehow, you've managed to," I observed.

He nodded. "For the most part. If it was anyone but Marie, your mother's damn sister, I'm not sure I'd want to. But anything I did with your Aunt would sure as shit get back to Alice, and she might forgive me with some other tramp, but not with Marie. Not a chance in hell." He turned to me, finishing his beer. I noticed he was working through them pretty quick. I decided to catch up a bit, and pounded the rest of mine.

"I guess you learned about that, huh? Anything you did in that backseat, your Momma was bound to find out. 100% guaranteed. You should understand that. You keep doing things with your Aunt, Alice is gonna know."

"I know. Now. I didn't then."

"You really made her come for you?" he asked quietly.

"In a big way. She had set some limits at the beginning of our playing around. She told me I couldn't..." I was stuck for a way to put it.

"You couldn't fuck her?" Dad finished my statement succinctly.

"Yeah, at least not then, not in the car with Colin in the front seat."

Dad chuckled. "Every word of that statement was carefully planned. Believe me. She knew exactly what she was saying and implying. She's a vixen."

"After she came for me, she stripped me naked, straddled me and practically begged me to break our rules. I wasn't ready for that, no way. I mean, she was rubbing against me, skin on skin, pushing down on me, grinding like a mad woman. I made her come again, even harder than the first time. It was a miracle y'all didn't hear it."

He laughed. "You've got good instincts. I'll give you that. You get a woman off good enough, and she'll be begging for more. Pavlovian. She'll always come back to the bringer of pleasure." We'd finished up the lion's share of the rough butchery, but things were slowing down.

"You didn't do it though, did you? You didn't screw her?"

"No. Not that I wasn't tempted. Wrong place, wrong time. And I wasn't sure I wanted to go that far. Not completely. So many possible problems." I admitted.

"Still, nothing to complain about. Not by a long shot. I'd have traded seats with you in a heart-beat, if not for your mother."

"That wasn't the end of it. What we were doing had me at my limits. I was going to have to finish, but was afraid of making a mess. Aunt Marie had a solution. She got down on the floorboards and finished me with her mouth."

"Jesus H. Christ! Marie? Gave you a blow-job in the car?"

He made a good act of being surprised, if Mom had told him the full story last night. "Yeah. I don't know if you remember, but when she first took me in her mouth, I was surprised and yelled out. That's when we started talking about our hunting that day. She was sucking me off the whole time."

"How was she?" Dad asked, his interest definitely piqued.

"Fucking incredible. Of course I don't have a lot to compare her against. Penny of course, and a couple of others that were nothing to brag about. But Aunt Marie killed them all."

"Better than Penny then?"

"Penny's just learning. I was her first blow-job. She can't take much more than my head and a couple of inches, but she's so damn cute when trying. Watching her pretty face, blushing with embarrassment while she sucks me, I thought that was pretty spectacular."

"No shit. That's something I wouldn't mind seeing," Dad laughed.

I wiped my hands down and pulled out my phone. I scrolled down to the pictures, and passed it over. "Don't tell Mom, Ok?"

He was flipping through the images, obviously entranced. "Damn, she's a pretty girl. Surprised she sees anything in a scrub like you."

I laughed. "I could say the same about you old man. Like there's anyway you deserve someone as hot as Mom."

He grinned, passing me back the phone. "You got me there. Shit, I wish I'd had a camera when your Mom first went down on me. Un-fucking-believable."

"I bet."

"Why wouldn't you want me to tell your Mom about this? You don't think she knows a thing or two about blow-jobs?"

"To hear her tell it, she knows a lot more than a thing or two," I laughed.

"Jesus, Jeremy! How much did you talk about?"

"A lot."

Dad picked up the packaged meat and stuck it in the freezer. He brought us both back a couple of beers. "You feeling up to telling your old man the rest of the story? The second half of your adventure last night?"

"You don't mind hearing it?"

"If you don't mind sharing." He closed up the coolers, even though we hadn't quite finished. We were 90% done. "You can finish up the rest of the butchering tomorrow. Let's move this out to the porch."

While I was washing up, and cleaning our utensils, Dad did some organizing and grabbed us a six-pack. Good thing. I imagined it was going to be some thirsty work.

Dad brought the guns out to the porch, so we could give them a good cleaning. I wasn't sure how happy I was about that. With the story I was about to tell, I was glad there was no ammo out there.

I explained how angry Mom was, and how I had to give her every little detail about my shenanigans with Aunt Marie. "Hell, as soon as Aunt Marie got out of the Jeep, she went to Mom and told her I had the sweetest cum she'd ever tasted."

Dad broke out laughing. A deep gut laugh. "That little bitch. She knows how to press your Mom's buttons, you've got to give her that much."

I explained that I'd done more showing than telling, the whole time watching Dad to see if he'd suddenly decide to take my head off. He seemed more intent on breaking down the firearms for cleaning. I talked about the touching, the holding, brushing her thigh, moving her around my lap, pressing my erection against her. I explained how Mom had my hard-on wedged between her cheeks when she decided to show off. "'Bet your Aunt can't do that,' she said."

"She's got a point. Not much of an ass on Marie. Still, kind of surprising Alice would try something like that. It's the competition with her sister, you know."

"I get it now. That's when I got to asking her about what the deal was with her and Aunt Marie. She opened up to me like I never would have imagined. We spent a long time, easily half the trip, her telling me the history with Aunt Marie, starting in high-school and all about you guys. God, Dad, to hear her tell the story of you shooting down her sister, you had to be there. It was like she was describing a legend. 'Nice tits, but I'm an ass-man. Have you seen the ass on your sister? God Almighty!' It was like a holy sermon she was sharing. I'd never heard anyone talk about someone else like she was talking about you. I never thought I could be so jealous of anyone, especially not you and Mom."

"You should have seen her back then, Jeremy. She's a beautiful woman now, but when I saw that little freshman, pretty as a picture, with an ass worthy of carving in stone, I had to get to know her. She was sweet, innocent, and unbelievably nice. She had no idea how beautiful she was, spending the last few years in her sister's shadow."

"Hard to believe Mom could get any prettier."

"Not prettier, different. God, I had it bad for her."

"From the look of things earlier, I'd say you still do."

I couldn't believe I saw my father blush. "She still does it for me. Twenty years, and when I saw her ass in those pants, I still almost lost it on the spot."

"There you are!" I heard Mom call out, nearly making me jump through my skin.

She walked out, hot and sweaty from the workout in a 100 degree room. "What're you guys up to?" she asked.

"Chatting. Man talk." Dad said abruptly.

She nodded. "I'm going to take a bath." She faced my father, "Can you help me out of this top? I can barely lift my arms."

She turned her back to us, and Dad got up, grabbed the bottom, and pulled it over her head, leaving her naked from the waist up. He reached around her and I could tell he was grabbing her tits. "Harold!" Mom hissed, looking over her shoulder.

"Have I told you how much you drive me crazy, Alice?" he said softly, still loud enough for me to hear it.

"I'm a mess," she murmured.

He turned her around, giving me a flash of tit before his body got in the way. "Harold!" she gasped.

He kissed her. Really kissed her. I watched her hands move around his body, clasping him. They were turned at a bit of an angle, and I saw his near hand slide into the back of her pants, tugging them down her hips a few inches.

I probably should have been embarrassed or something. Instead, I drank my beer, and watched with more than a little envy.

He pulled away, letting me see a glimpse of her tit again. Damn it. I was hard for my Mom, and my father was only a few feet away.

"Do you know how much I love you?" he said to her.

She nodded quietly.

"If we didn't have an audience, do you know what I'd have you doing?" he teased.

I saw a slow smile appear on her face. I almost lost it when I saw her open her mouth in an 'O' and push her cheek out with her tongue a couple of times. "After," she said softly.

"You bet your sweet ass," he laughed. He turned her around, letting me see her pants were already half-way down her butt, the top of her crack temptingly exposed. He slapped her on that big bubbly butt. "Go bathe. Clean everything."