A Weekend to Remember

A Weekend to Remember

WARNING! This story contains several scenes of gay sex. If men fucking trips your trigger, move on!

Under the influence of demon rum and wacky tobaccy, Clay spends the weekend in an orgy of sexual excess. He renews his relationship with his first cousin and impregnates his mother.

All characters engaged in sexual acts are at least 18

Chapter 01

Clay Johnson awoke with his face buried in someone's sweaty hair, his hand gripping a sizeable breast, his cock nestled between the cheeks of a meaty ass, and the granddaddy of all hangovers.

His mouth was dry and gummy. He was shaky and sweaty, his belly hurt, and a brass band was playing the Anvil Chorus in his head.

His addled mind thought he was back home, and the body lying next to him was his wife. Then, as the alcohol fog clouding his thinking lifted, he realized he and his wife of ten years had split six weeks ago. Broke and distraught, he went to his one haven. The bed he was lying in was in his old room in his parents' home.

His hand reflexively tightened on the breast as he stirred. The warm body moved, and the bubble butt nestled tighter into his cock followed by an unintelligible mumble.

Something was wrong. There shouldn't be anyone in bed with him. His parents were old fashion, and overnight female company was not allowed. So whoever she was, he had to get her the hell out of his room before his parents woke up.

On top of that, his bladder demanded attention. Clay hesitated, imagining the pain he would experience when he got out of bed. He briefly considered then nixed doing the unthinkable.

He could make out the shape of a woman in the darkened room. Where the hell did she come from? He went to shake her and wake her up, but the movement caused the pounding in his temples to increase exponentially.

Clay swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his back touching the warm body and his head in his hands. He stood and instantly regretted it. The room swam disturbingly, and his stomach did a 360-degree roll. He gulped several times, swallowing his bile, trying not to vomit.

Who the Hell is that in my bed?

Before he could answer his question, his stomach roiled again. Clay sprinted across the hall to the bathroom, dropped to his knees, embraced the porcelain throne, and heaved up his guts.

The acrid scent of vomit and alcohol filled the air. However, the cool porcelain felt good against his sweating face.

Clay's vomiting ended with dry heaves. The room spun again as he shakily got to his feet. He placed one hand on the wall behind the toilet to avoid falling. He stood there, the sweat cascading down his body, gulping air as the room and his belly spun slowly.

His cock was tender and sticky when he grasped it and aimed it at the toilet. He must have fucked long and hard in a tight pussy for his cock to be so sore.

He looked across the hall at the naked woman lying on her belly. Her arms were at her side, with one leg slightly bent. Whoever she was, they had fucked hard! As his thick yellow stream splashed in the toilet, he struggled to recall whom he brought home to his parents' home.

He experienced a moment of panic. If his mother discovered he screwed some bimbo in her home, she would kill him! She had urged him to stay with his wife and try to make a go of it. She confided that her marriage was not the best, but she worked on it.

He flinched as he shook the last drops of urine from his sticky cock. He rinsed out his mouth and then brushed his teeth. Whoever was in his bed, he had to get them the Hell out of the house before his mother got up.

Chapter 02

Clay's day began with him refereeing an argument between his parents. His father informed his mother he wasn't going to her family reunion barbecue but pheasant hunting with his friends.

The tensions between them had been increasing. Their arguments were more personal and vitriolic. After 30 years of marriage, they appeared to have lost the spark.

Clay agreed to attend the family barbecue with his mother to keep the peace and mollify his mother. The barbecue was held yesterday at Aunt Helen's and Uncle Al's farm. Dozens of family and extended family attended, including Gale, their daughter, and his first cousin.

Despite his misgivings, it turned out to be a good time. He and his mother relaxed, momentarily pushing their respective domestic situations aside, and enjoyed themselves. Uncle Al barbecued and made quarts of his famous homemade brandy. Clay and his mother ate and drank their fill, enjoying this respite from their less than ideal domestic lives

A groan from the direction of his bedroom caused Clay to return to the problem at hand. There was a woman in his bed. He had to get her out.

For the moment, he leaned over the face bowl holding the rim tightly with both hands. He still felt sick to his stomach, and his head was still pounding. Vignettes of the previous day played back in his head like previews of coming attractions at the movies.

Clay played the peacemaker with his parents and volunteered to go to the reunion with his mother. He hadn't attended a reunion in years and was looking forward to it. His ex-wife referred to his relatives as bumpkins, and they never attended these gatherings.

On the drive up, his mother lay against the passenger side window crying as he drove them to the reunion. Her yellow sundress rode up her legs, exposing her upper thigh and the lace around the leghole of her matching panties. Clay forced his eyes back on the road and away from his mother's plump thigh.

He smiled as he felt the beginnings of a chubby. For all his 30 years, his mother tended to walk around the house in various stages of undress. He recalled seeing her casually moving about their home in her lacey bra and panties. She routinely paraded around the house after her shower with a towel wrapped around her.

When his father complained, pointing out they had a pubescent teenager, she countered that her underwear or the towel was no more revealing than a bikini or one-piece bathing suit.

A blur of faces, familiar and unfamiliar, at the farm as they hugged and shook hands. Clay's cousin Gale hugged him, holding her embrace a beat longer than a cousin should.

She took charge of him, shoving a Dixie cup filled with an evil-looking dark liquid in his hand. Then, she led him around the gathering, introducing him to the other family members, including her milquetoast husband. He was slim, effeminate, mild-mannered, the antithesis of the buxom extroverted Gale.

Clay and Gale had a short, intense affair when they were 18 and high school seniors. His parents took a 14-day cruise, leaving him on his uncle and aunt's farm.

He and Gale hit it off, spending their days doing chores and exploring the farm and surrounding woods. What was a close relationship turned sexual one day in the barn.

They were feeding the livestock on a hot August day. Gale turned on the hose and began filling the water trough. Clay howled his displeasure when she impishly turned the hose on her cousin. He snatched the hose from her hands and turned it on her, soaking her blouse and cut-off jeans.

Gale tackled him, and they wrestled on the hay-strewn floor. They were never sure how they got naked.

Though they were both 18-year-old virgins, Gale had the advantage of having watched the farm animals. So they did it doggie style for their first time like the bull takes the cow or the stallion takes the mare.

For the remainder of Clay's stay, they fucked daily, sometimes multiple times a day. They experimented with many of the kinks and positions they found online. Gale discovered she liked being on top, riding her cousin's thick cock. They both found that 69 was the position they liked best for oral sex.

When Clay's parents arrived to pick him up after the cruise, they were both sexually proficient and unbeknownst to anyone, Gale was pregnant.

Clay was a freshman in college when he learned of his cousin's hurried marriage. He suspected but was never sure that the baby, a boy, was his. Gale and her new husband moved to another state. Over the years, he saw her infrequently. When he did see her, Clay's wife was with him, and he couldn't ask about the baby.

As the homemade brandy flowed, enhanced by their THC vaping, the cousins became more touchy-feely, harkening back to their intense summer fling. Their bonhomie graduated to mutual groping.

Initially, Clay was uncomfortable because her husband always seemed close. After a while, he became an unnoticed spectator.

He couldn't remember how they ended up behind the barn. It was all wrapped in a soft-focus haze. Her husband was there watching when Clay and Gail fucked behind the barn.

They were drunk on the homemade brandy and high on the THC vape. Clay DID recall she was still an incredible fuck. Unlike his ex-wife, who, after the honeymoon, rationed sex as though it were in short supply, Gale loved to fuck.

He could almost feel her bubble butt slamming back into him and hear her guttural moans and shouted profanities, followed by the weird keening sound she made when she climaxed. Gale was overweight, had three kids, and would never be considered for a centerfold, but she could fuck like a porn star.

Gail's dress was on her back, and her panties were on the ground. She was leaning against the barn with her husband standing next to her. Her hairy pussy was wet and creamy. As Clay pumped in her hole, her bubble butt moved like waves on a brown ocean.

"You like my pussy, Clay?" Gale looked back over her shoulder, her face wreathed in lust.

"It's better than it ever was!"

Gale came hard, her pussy clamping down on his thick tool. Then, as her pussy tried to push him out, Clay drove in harder, dumping a thick load of baby batter deep in his cousin's married pussy.

Her husband unexpectantly sprang into action. He dropped to his knees and took Clay's gleaming, dripping cock in his mouth. He caressed Clay's balls with one hand while stroking his tool with the other, giving Clay a world-class blowjob.

Clay looked down in drunken amazement as Gale's husband gave a master class in cocksucking.

"Is he as good as me," Gail asked Clay?

She stood next to Clay with her arm around his waist, French kissing him as they watched her husband suck Clay's cock.

"I don't recall," Clay leered, fueled by alcohol courage, "give me a demonstration."

Gail smiled, knelt beside her husband, and nudged him with her elbow.

"Move over, John."

"Dear, could I lick his cum from your pussy while you suck off your cousin?"

"Whatcha think, Clay?

"Sure," Clay said with inebriated magnanimity, " let the little guy clean you up."

Gale pulled her dress off and tossed it on the ground. Her corpulent body gleamed with sweat. Her humongous jugs swayed as she sank to her knees and took her cousin's cock in her mouth.

Thirty feet away on the other side of the barn, their relatives ate and drank, but they were uncaring of discovery. Nor did they realize in their altered state that a subtle change had occurred. Clay was now in charge of Gale's pussy, and her husband needed permission to eat it.

John lay on his back and slipped between his wife's legs. He pulled her hips down and slurped Clay's cum from her pussy. He pulled his cock out and masturbated as he drank their essence.

Clay looked at them, bemused as his hips pumped fucking Gale's mouth. She groaned when he grabbed one large brown nipple and pulled it.

"YES! Make me feel pain!"

There was little chance of him cumming so soon after fucking Gale, but a good blowjob is always acceptable.

" I want you to cum in my mouth," Gail simpered, staring up at Clay.

"Can I finish sucking that beautiful cock after cleaning you, Dear?"

Clay and Gale allowed it. John and Gail passed Clay's cock back and forth between them, savoring the kinkiness of the moment. When he ultimately came, they shared his seed. John filled his belly with the cum of his cuckold and the father of his son.

Chapter 03

What the Hell was that about, Clay thought?

Despite his hangover, he got a chubby as he recalled Aaron, his college roommate, who was the last guy to suck his cock.

He and Aaron had a small off-campus apartment. After a night of binge drinking, drugs, and girlfriend swapping, they were barely coherent watching the women 69ing. Unbidden, Aaron took Clay's cock in his mouth and began sucking him.

Bemused, Clay watched his naked roomie bob on his tool. Periodically he would slap his plump behind to urge him on.

"Why don't you guys try 69ing like we are," said one of the women. Her face gleamed with a combination of sweat and pussy juice.

Clay was never sure which one said it. The drugs had him out of his body. Nothing seemed real. It was like watching a porn movie. He slid down in the bed, and Aaron climbed on top. It was a first for both of them.

Clay recalled his roomie's cock was small enough for him to inhale it, taking the head down his throat. He remembered looking up at Aaron's anus flexing as he hungrily sucked Clay's cock. Clay pushed his finger into his starfish and finger fucked his roomie's ass.

"Fuck, yeah," Aaron exclaimed, his ass cheeks clenching and driving back to bury his friend's finger even deeper in his bowels.

"You like that, bitch," Clay said, momentarily stopping his cocksucking.

"Dear God, yes! Don't stop!"

As Clay pumped his index finger in Aaron's ass, he discovered his prostate and began stroking it.

Aaron came explosively, nearly drowning Clay in his cum. It bubbled out of Clay's mouth and ran down his cheeks to his neck.

They turned on their sides, still sucking their now soft cocks, enjoying the feel. They caressed each other's asses as they tried to get hard again. Try as he could, Clay couldn't get Aaron hard again or cum himself.

Again one of the women offered a solution. They were naked, embracing and kissing as they watched the show.

"Fuck him and get off that way."

"No way," Aaron said, rolling off his roomie and lying on his belly.

"Nice ass, homie!"

Clay stroked his friend's chubby ass, admiring its plumpness.

Aaron's girlfriend crawled over to him and also stroked his sweating ass. "You like me fingering your ass! Imagine how something bigger would feel."

As she spoke, she eased her finger into his ass, rediscovered his prostate, and stroked it. The effect was electric! Aaron moaned, thrust his fat butt into the air, and ground his cock against the mattress.

She leered at Clay and his girlfriend watching the show. She beckoned for him to take her place.

Sober, it would never have happened. Until tonight, they were both straight.

However, Clay crawled over, and his finger replaced the woman in his roommate's ass. He found the pebble of his prostate gland and again massaged it. Aaron went crazy, humping his rump to get Clay's finger deeper.

Drunkenly grinning and with the naked women urging him on, Clay climbed on top of his friend, positioned his cock at his winking starfish, and thrust in.

Aaron screamed and shrank away. He clawed at the sheet, pulling it loose from the mattress.

"NO! Please, no," he wailed, trying to crawl from under Clay. "Don't fuck me!"

However, his roommate was a man-possessed. He gripped Aaron's hips, yanked him to his knees, and pounded his asshole.

"That's right! Fuck that bitch!"

Clay grinned at the two women urging him on and redoubled his efforts. His back undulated as he assfucked his roommate for the first time. Even high out of his mind, he loved the tightness of his ass and how his anal rings flexed around his cock. It was a new feeling for Clay, one he would never get enough of.

Aaron's screams of pain gradually turned to mewls of pleasure. Instead of struggling to escape, he rocked back, slamming his ass against his roommate's invading cock.

"You like that, bitch," Clay said, slapping Aaron's ass and leaving a red handprint.

"You know I do," he whimpered.

When they came, it was epic! Aaron squirted a stream that soaked the mattress while Clay's ejaculate squirted around his cock in Aaron's anus, coating his ass.

The following morning, the four of them woke up in bed together, their bodies sticky with body fluids. They were sated, soberer, and embarrassed at the previous night's excesses.

However, from that night on, Clay and his roomie were gender fluid with each other, fucking and sucking on a regular basis. Even now, some ten years later, when they were married with families and careers, they occasionally hooked up.

He called Aaron when Clay and his wife decided to separate. Aaron made excuses to his wife about sudden important business and met Clay at a motel. It was like old times, sucking and fucking all night.

Chapter 04

Clay's only regret about sex with Gale behind the barn was that he hadn't fucked her husband. He tried, but he was too drunk to get hard enough to get it in.

But it could not be Gale in his bed. She left with her husband and her brood, both of them promising to see more of him. The figure in his bed sat up in the darkness.

Well, whoever she is, I've got her out of here.

Clay stepped back into his bedroom, flipped on the light, and slapped the intruder on her jiggly ass.

"Look! You need to...! MOM! What the Hell are you doing in my bed?"

The room swam disturbingly when Anne Johnson turned her head toward the voice. She had trouble focusing on the naked man standing next to the bed. She blinked several times, staring at a cock inches from her face. Gradually the figure resolved.

"Clay! What the Hell! Why are you in my bedroom naked?"

A vignette played back in her mind. She was in an Uber. Her sister made her and Clay take an Uber because they were too drunk to drive. Someone was nuzzling her neck. She was making out with her 30-year-old son in the back of an Uber! Sweet Jesus!

"Mom, it's my bedroom!"

Anne glanced around myopically, careful to minimize the movement of her throbbing head. She was naked in her son's bedroom. There was a dull ache between her legs. She flinched as her hand brushed her sore nipples!

Dear God, she thought, tell me I didn't fuck my son!

Before seeking an answer to her question, she needed to empty her bladder and gulp as many aspirins as possible. She stood, holding her throbbing head in her hand.

A thin liquid oozed from her pussy and streamed down her thighs. Anne glanced down dumbly.

What the fuck?

She captured some of the liquid on a finger. Slowly she brought it to her nose and inhaled the musky odor of a man's sperm. Then, tentatively, she touched her tongue to the finger. No doubt about it! She had fucked and been cummed in multiple times. Her pussy overflowed with sperm. An alarm, muffled by her hangover, sounded in her head.

She conceived and quickly dismissed a series of possible explanations. Her husband had not returned and fucked her; they hadn't had sex in months. Besides, he was away on that fucking hunting trip! She had begun to suspect more was happening than just the frequent outings with his friends.

An image of Al, her sister's husband, popped into her mind. No, not him! He did get a little handsy. She recalled swatting his hand away playfully when he squeezed her butt at the barbecue. If the truth were told, she enjoyed the attention. However, she would never fuck her sister's husband.

She looked at her son standing by the bed. Bile rushed from her belly into her throat, gagging her, and she swallowed hard.

Dear God, no! I didn't...!

She brushed past him into the bathroom and squatted on the toilet. Clay followed her; however, her aching bladder overcame her modesty.

There was a pronounced sting in her pussy as she peed. A glob of a white substance dripped from her pussy and splashed into the toilet. Her eyes widened at the implications of having several loads of cum in her unprotected cunt.