I couldn't believe it. I simply couldn't believe it. Alison and I had been married six months. Life was almost too good to be true. We had our MBA's. We'd received huge bonuses and were working on trading desks at two of the largest firms in the world. And we had bought our hideaway. Not some trophy case in the Hamptons, mind you, but an A-frame in the mountains - with a trout stream, near skiing, and away from all of civilization, so that we could spend our time there naked and fucking. Which we did. Every weekend - when we could. Naked. Fucking. Like animals. Until our jobs came along, and suddenly we met for pasta and cereal, at breakfast and dinner.
And, again, until Alison and her brilliant idea came along. "Honey, I really think our moms should get to know one another," she said over breakfast in bed one morning in July. I put aside my Total. I knew this was a bad idea. My mom and Alison's were cut of the same cloth. Indeed, so were Alison and I. We were both raised by our moms after our dads had fled, and our moms both turned out to be wildly successful traders - Mine in NY in the bond business, Alison's in Chicago in the trading pits. Somehow, Alison and I met at Tuck, and we fucked our way through B-school.
This could not be good. "Sweetie," I pleaded, "we never have any time alone. And our moms can't help but be competitive. And worst of all," I added, "the walls will have ears."
"Honey, I have it all planned." Alison planted a big wet smooch on me, one wet enough to leave me bewildered. "I guarantee this is going to be the week of your life."
We had one week off together. And our week was going to be with our mothers.
It was the week before Labor Day weekend. Our intention had been to stretch the week out. Alison and I drove our mothers - Leslie, her mom, and Kathryn, mine - up to the fuckfest house, as I liked to call it when Alison and I were there alone. Not much was said on the ride up. Leslie was tired from her flight and sat stonefaced, her red hair, the same color as Alison's, perfect and unmoving. Likewise, Kathryn, a New York suburban bottle blonde of fifty years, was unresponsive to conversation and reading the Journal. I was steeling myself. However, as I pulled into the driveway, Alison flipped her gorgeous head of red hair, squeezed my groin and said, "Trust me. You've always wanted to watch me eat pussy, haven't you? Now's your chance." I was now officially flummoxed.
When we arrived inside, we ordered a pizza, ate it, and turned in. In bed, Alison forced my head between her thighs, yelling, " suck my cunt; Jesus, my clit; suck it, suck it." As is our custom, I did as I was told, languishing in her totally beautiful, red furred pussy. For good measure, and because I loved to do it, I tongued her fuckhole like a loyal pup. Alison almost smothered me as she came all over my face. We curled up and cuddled as we fell asleep.
The next morning, Alison sent me out to a "local" bakery eight miles away for croissants and Danish. When I returned, the coffee was made, and we sat down with our moms to a quiet breakfast. Sunday morning was evolving uneventfully. It must have been 10:30 or 11:00 when Alison announced, "Ladies, in this house, we brunch. Which means Bloody Marys or screwdrivers. I'm taking orders." Astoundingly, Kathryn spoke up first.
"Finally," she said. "An ice breaker. Make it a screwdriver. And don't waste any unnecessary orange juice."
Leslie looked at my mom. "Bloody Mary. Extra vodka. Extra tobasco."
Alison made the drinks. She knew I loved Bloody Marys, and made mine especially strong. She had a screwdriver. I wondered how strong the other drinks were. It didn't take me long to find out.
"Allie, honey, I have a question - I hope it's not too personal," Leslie said. At that moment, as I awaited a freshening of my own drink, I looked at Leslie - and, guiltily, my own mother - and realized they were both attractively dressed in the same manner. Each wore shorts and tank tops, and, for the first time in my mother's life, as far as I could recall, no bras to reveal large, pendulous breasts. My mom, Kathryn, smirked as Leslie asked the question.
"What is it?" Alison asked.
"Well, last night, I couldn't help but overhear you two. And frankly, you were screaming like a banshee, Allie," Leslie stated in what I thought was an overblown Chicago accent. My mom giggled. "I'm sorry, I thought I was the only one who heard," she chimed in.
"So what is it?" Leslie asked. "Is he a stud, or was he removing your appendix?"
At this point I must describe Alison. Demure, almost diminutive, and the most perfect body. Along with the greatest mind I've ever encountered. In short, if she hadn't married me, I would have volunteered to eat kibbles 'n bits in a corner of her kitchen just to be near her. I also knew that she knew my weak spots. I started to see what was coming.
"Well, if the truth be told, mommie dearest, Jack eats pussy. My pussy. Whenever and wherever I ask - or tell him to. What you heard last night was Jack eating my pussy. He does it all the time. And I don't even have to fuck him in return, although I do, because he has this curved dick that's great for slow doggy style fucking." Alison took a long sip of her screwdriver to measure the response of her audience.
I glanced to Leslie, who had a smile on her face and was licking tomato juice from her lips. I then looked toward my mom, and received a jolt. She was staring at me - at my groin, actually - and her nipples were standing perfectly erect through her tank top. What I hadn't realized was that while Alison was describing our night and relationship to our mothers, my cock had become stiff . It was impossible to hide in the gym shorts I was wearing.
Then Alison continued. "In fact, I can get Jack to eat my pussy any time, anywhere. Even in front of you two."
"I'm up for that," Leslie declared. "Kathryn, what about you? Wanna watch your son and my daughter?"
My mother's breathing was short. "It's their own business," she seemed to pant.
Leslie retorted, "goddammit, Kathryn, I want to watch this, grab another drink and watch with me."
Alison strolled over to me. "You're going to eat my pussy." She ordered. I gasped, breathless. I couldn't refuse. She knew it. She undressed in front of me and was eventually naked, revealing the pussy I crave. Alison and I had cultivated and loved this pussy together. We took it to get waxed together, from a Brazilian woman in Soho. I would eat Alison there in the waxing salon, in our booth. This vision washed over me as Alison stripped in front of me and our mothers. I joined Alison and stripped down, not even caring about our audience.
Alison stripped. She lay spreadeagle on the sofa and was about to force my head into her crotch, when she said, "Wait. What's wrong with this picture?"
By this time I was insane. Wrong with what picture, honey? We were performing sexually for our mothers. I looked at Leslie. She was biting her lip. I looked then at Kathryn, my own mom. She was glaring. At me. At my cock.
"They have to be naked with us," Alison explained. "You undress your mom and I'll undress mine."
I need not tell you that undressing your mother prior to having sex with your wife is an event fraught with tension. Alison., as is her wont, added to that tension.
"Don't help her off with it, rip it from her," Alison remarked concerning my mom's top. Thinking of Alison's pussy and her pussy only, I shredded the tank top from my mom. She gasped, and continued to glare.
"Rip her fucking shorts off. Expose her," Alison sneered.
I did as I was told. When I reached my mom's panties, I gasped. Her pubic hair branched out from her panties. I was aghast. I slowly slid the panties down, discovering that they stuck to her labia as I pulled. Alison and Leslie remained breathless, watching behind me. I heard panting.
Eventually, I exposed a hairy - no, bushy - pussy. Mom had a thick, hairy, pussy, jet black in contrast to her bottle blonde hair. I was about to grasp the thick labia with my tongue before reality set in and I realized it was my mother.
"Oh Jesus," Alison whispered, "isn't Kathryn one captivating slut, mom? Kath, you're so fucking hairy, and still your lips peek out. And that black pussy hair - it -it makes you look so slutty." Alison began running her fingers through my own mother's bush. I didn't know what to expect next.
"He's going to eat me now. Kiss him goodbye and wish him well, Kathryn, while I kiss my mom," Alison stated matter of factly. As Alison embraced Leslie, my mom drew me into her arms, grinded against me and snarled, "entertain me." I looked down. My stiff cock was against her tummy, my balls by her muff. The heat was indescribable. "Eat your wife's -- or should I say, that little slut's - pussy." Then she pressed her lips against mine, finally releasing me and turning me on my way. In the meantime, Alison laid a tease of a kiss on Leslie, who looked as if she was ready to rape both of us.
I began to kiss Alison's neck when she said, "Jack honey, I don't need foreplay. Just take me inside and eat me. Please." This was an easy request to honor, and we raced into our room. Alison flopped on the bed and spread her thighs, ordering, "eat me. Eat my fucking cunt. Eat my twat. NOW!"
This was, simply stated, what I lived for. I began to languidly stroke my tongue up and down the length of Alison's perfect vulva, biting my lip to avoid getting too carried away. As I did this I rubbed her labia with my thumb, eventually exposing her clitoris. Alison's breathing became uneven, and I noticed that our mothers had moved along either side of her.
"Allie, honey, is this what you were talking about?" Leslie asked, stroking her daughter's -- and my wife's - hair as I ate her. Meanwhile, my mom sat on the other side of Alison, stroking and kissing her cheeks.
"Eat my fucking cunt, you horny fuck," Alison ordered through gritted teeth, and I knew what she wanted. I suddenly plunged my tongue inside her and twirled it around. Alison began to squeal. I glanced at both our mothers, who looked to be sweating, with erect nipples and exhausted breaths. Alison screeched and then screamed, "Eat me, God, Jack, you know what to do, please, make me come." She arched her back, and I knew our mothers were alarmed. I then quickly clamped down on her clit and gently sucked it between my lips as I took two, then three, fingers and jammed them in Alison's pussy. I found what I believed to be Allie's G-spot as I sucked harder and harder on her clit. Alison's back arched, she yelled, "Oh Jesus Christ, Oh Fuck, I'm coming, you're making my pussy crazy, Oh fuck," before she collapsed and began to sob.
I had experienced her sobbing cums before, but our mothers hadn't. My mother cupped Alison's chin in her hands and asked, " are you OK, sweetie? He's just a horny fuck. Relax. We love you."
And then my mom kissed Allie, full on the lips.
Leslie then fixed a steely glare on my still turgid cock. "How do you propose we satisfy the so-called horny fuck?" she asked.
"Fuck him." Alison ordered. It wasn't a "fuck him," as in "let's be rid of him," it was a "fuck him, " in terms of "fuck him."
1. Leslie was now brazenly fingering her pussy. "Do you want me to sit on your cock?" she asked me.
"If he doesn't let you sit on his cock, he isn't getting any pussy this week," Alison declared.
"You heard her. Give me your cock," Leslie shouted as she jumped on me. The feeling of her pussy - so moist, so hot, so, goddamn delectable, was beyond description. So was my mother's language.
"You slut! You whore! This is your son in law! You crave his cock! And you want to steal him away from your daughter!
"Yess!" Leslie hissed. "But don't you want him too, you fucking slut whore? Don't you want your own son to fuck you? Don't lie, I saw you, I watched you. You want to fuck him, admit it!" As she screamed this, Leslie shook and came, once more solidifying Alison's theory that the person on top in a fuck session comes almost immediately.
The Kathryn broke down, "Shit, God, yes, I caught him fucking in Eleventh grade and I I've wanted him ever since, please, sweet Jesus, Leslie, let me get his cock - at least let me taste it!"
I flashed back. It must have been Jennifer Yu, the Chinese girl who was captain of the women's tennis team, who taught me the art of slam fucking.
Kathryn was pushing Leslie off my cock. Alison intervened and pleaded, "Kath, hon, let me guide you. I assure you things will be okay."
My Mom asked, "My own son's wife is going to help me fuck him?"
"Yes," Alison replied. "Because I want your pussy as much as he does."