Blaze of Glory

Jackie found a higher level of being in sex, a kind of sensual nirvana. She could just let herself go. Live in the moment, live in the orgasm. There was a reason she had worked as a prostitute for twenty years, long after she had stopped needing to do so. She had been sensible with her money, invested it wisely. And while she wasn't exactly rich, she had enough resources to retire and live a perfectly comfortable existence.

But she still yearned for cock, and - on occasion - pussy.

Gang-bangs were always the best. When she was being fucked by multiple partners, she could disappear into a state of pure sensation. Respond to her body's needs and desires with instinctive glee. She could revel in the tactile reality of a thick cock grinding against the walls of her pussy, her throat, or her anus. She didn't have to think. Or worry. She could just be.

Hence the reason she didn't freak out when she saw Marcus and his best friend Richie standing there. She knew this was a problem, something that would have to be addressed. But it was a problem for another time. Right then, right there, the only thing that mattered was the sex. The fucking. The power of sensual pleasure.

"Hey guys, do you think one of us should go after them?" Paul said, nervously, his cock still bobbing in and out of Jackie's mouth.

"Fuck 'em." Max said, slapping his hand on Jackie's ample ass cheek, watching it jiggle and ripple like jello. "If they're not man enough to get involved, it just means there's more whore for the rest of us."

Jackie smiled to herself. Yeah, that sounds about right.

The gang-bang continued unabated. The squelching sound of rough sex echoed throughout the room.

Marcus and Richie were stood in the hallway outside. Marcus was leaning against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. Richie was hovering around next to him.

"Jesus fuck, man! That's your goddamn mom!" Richie said.

"No, it's not." Marcus replied. "It was just someone who looked a bit like her."

"Fuck off! That's definitely you're mom. I've known her since she was a kid. I could recognise her anywhere."

Marcus spun round, grabbed hold of his friend by the shoulders and rammed him up against the wall.

"Now listen to me very carefully, Richie. That was not my mom. That was just some slutty whore who maybe looked like her. A little. Do you understand me?"

"But Marcus..."

"Do you understand me?" He repeated, with a steely and determined tone. Marcus had always been top dog in their relationship, a reality that he tried not to exploit, but on this occasion he was going to crack the whip. His eyes burned with a furious intensity as he stared straight at him.

"Okay, sure." Richie said, his gaze dropping.

Marcus let go of his friend and brushed his shoulders down.

"So, what do we do now?" Richie pondered. "Do we go back in?"

"Are you out of your fucking mind? Do you think I want to bang two-bit whore who looks like my mother?"

"Uh...well...no, I guess." Richie stammered. "But we did pay for her."

"Bill me!" Marcus said, as the two of them walked off down the corridor.

About half an hour later, the bedroom door opened and Jackie walked out. She had cleaned off her makeup and returned to her civilian clothes. The rest of the party had gone fine. She fucked all three of them, taking Paul's virginity in the process, and then let them take their condoms off and cum on her tits. Since he had been such a sweetie, she even licked Paul's dick clean, tickling the end of his cock with her tongue.

All in all, it would have been a perfectly routine, perfectly satisfactory hour's work. But then there was her little problem. A conversation she was going to have to endure. A no doubt difficult little chat she was going to have to have with her son.

5

Jackie's incestuous affair with her uncle - well, technically he was only her half-uncle - lasted around eighteen months. It was an open relationship, both of them actively sought out sex with other partners. Sometimes they invited those other partners into the bedroom. Threesomes and orgies were, while not a regular occurrence, fairly common.

But then one day, Jackie's mom came home early and caught her younger brother buried balls deep inside her daughter. It was hardly a surprise when Jackie's mother, a feisty, independent woman called Mary, lost her shit, and threatened to call the police. Eventually, Jackie managed to calm her down enough to avoid any involvement with law enforcement; but Uncle Joel was, for obvious reasons, no longer welcome at the Blaze family homestead.

They did meet up occasionally after that, and fuck like rabbits, but Joel eventually moved out of town. And Jackie ended up going to college.

Where she became a whore. Where she eventually became a mother.

It was to his grandmother's house that Marcus headed after his somewhat unfortunate encounter at the Mallard Hotel. Grandma wasn't in, and he poured himself a glass of orange juice and headed up to his room. Once there, he closed the curtains, powered up his laptop, unzipped his fly and began masturbating to pictures of his mother.

You couldn't be unaware of Jackie's allure. Her sexual charisma. It was impossible not to. She was impossible. His mother was this goddess. A portrait of feminine sensuality. Her dazzling smile. Her unbelievable figure. The way she moved. The way she laughed. He'd been beating his meat over her for years.

And now, today, only an hour or so earlier, he had seen her naked and exposed. Her body being used. Her body on display. He had been no more than a few feet away from her, as she revelled in sex. He had a thousand images of her on his computer. Pictures of her in a bikini. Pictures of her smiling next to a Christmas tree, her low-cut top revealing endless cleavage. But he found he didn't need those photos now. He had images of her in his mind. Naked. Her legs spread. Her cunt and asshole being violated.

Eventually he came. Then he cleaned himself up and walked downstairs. Jackie was sat waiting for him in the living room.

"Hello, Marcus." She said, quietly.

"Hello."

"Where's your grandmother?"

"Out. I'm not sure where. Probably playing bridge with her friends. She does that a lot."

"Okay."

Neither of them said a word for what felt like an age. Then Jackie broke the silence.

"So, are we going to talk about what happened?" She asked.

"'What happened'?" He replied, with a deliberately flat tone.

"Yeah, what happened back at the hotel."

"Oh you mean when I found you impaled on the cocks of my college buddies?"

"Yeah. That."

"Sure, we can talk about that, if you want. You start. What do you want to say?"

"I've always assumed you knew what I did. Or at least you've known fairly recently."

"I had my suspicions, but I didn't know for sure. I suppose today was a pretty definitive confirmation about some of your career choices."

"What did Richie say?"

"What, when he found his best friend's mom, a woman he's known since he was a kid, being tag-teamed by two of his friends? He freaked the fuck out. That's what he did."

"Is he going to say anything?"

"Probably. I told him it wasn't you, but he knows damn well it was. He'll almost certainly end up blabbing to someone about it. It's too juicy a tidbit not to."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry that you fuck men for money, or sorry I caught you fucking men for money?"

"The latter."

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now."

"I know it may be a little embarrassing for you, but you've nothing to be ashamed of."

"You don't know how college boys operate, do you?" Marcus said, coldly. "Once it gets out that my mother sells herself for sex - and it will get out - I'll be a fucking laughing stock. You'll probably get more bookings though, so I suppose that's good news for your bank balance. Every guy in my year will want to have a go."

"I suppose you're right." She said. "And I'm sorry you'll get some shit over this, but it'll pass. And it's not like you didn't pay for me in the first place."

"True, although I didn't take into account the possibility that the whore I was booking for the evening would turn out to be my own Goddamn mother!"

"No, you didn't. How much do I owe you?"

"What?"

"How much do I owe you? You paid me to have sex, and we certainly didn't do that, so I owe you a refund."

"Are you joking?"

"No, I'm deadly serious. I have a sense of honour in my work. I'm paid to provide a service. I clearly didn't provide you with that service. Therefore, I owe you money. Unless you want to fuck me, of course?"

"What!?" Marcus yelped. "Are you out of your mind?"

"I was joking. Although you're a handsome boy. If you weren't my son..."

"Yeah, well I am."

"So how much do I owe you?"

"Three-hundred dollars."

"Okay."

She leant over and picked up her purse. She took out a roll of notes and peeled of a handful and placed them on the coffee table between them. Then she stood up and walked towards the front door. She stopped momentarily and turned to him.

"I'm sorry about today, Marcus, I really am. I know that must have been difficult for you, and it will be difficult going forward. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"So, why so you do it?" He asked.

"It pays well." She replied. "And I love it."

Without another word, she let herself out and closed the front door behind her.

Marcus sat there in silence, suddenly conscious of the fact that his dick was rock hard.

6

Jackie had been disturbed by the day's events more than she let on. This was an unusual occurrence, to say the least. She'd been fucking for a living for two decades, and she had found herself in some strange situations down the years, but getting caught in the act by her grown up son was right at the top of the list.

Her handsome, powerfully built, grown up son.

If Marcus had become increasingly conscious of his mother's sexual allure, Jackie had not exactly been unaware of her son's physical charms either. He'd been a scrawny, scrappy little kid, and she remembered carrying him round on her back when he was younger. But in recent years he had shot up in size, becoming a man. A tall, broad-shouldered, muscular man.

Jackie had never consciously desired him. She had certainly never masturbated to photos of him, the way he had of her. But she could see he was attractive. She knew he was sexy.

She had been shocked to see him standing there, in that hotel bedroom. That went without saying. But there had been other emotions too. Surprise. Disbelief. A certain wry amusement. It was kind of funny, after all. There was something else though, some other feeling fluttering away beneath the surface. Tiny but resolute. The merest sliver of excitement.

The memory of the moment was stark in her mind. She could feel the hot, hard cocks of those other boys inside her. Inside her mouth. Her cunt. Her ass. She could feel powerful hands and arms holding her, controlling her. She had been getting into the zone. The special place she went to when she was being fucked. It was like a type of hypnotism, a type of meditation.

Her body was part of a machine. She was simply a cog in a wheel, a vital mechanism operating at maximum efficiency. Dicks were sliding in and out of her. Legs were moving in rhythm. All of them were fucking together in perfect harmony. Jackie would reach a trance-like state. She could enjoy a high more powerful than any drug.

Her eyes would roll back into her skull. All detail and clarity would dissolve into pure shape and colour. She could smell them. Smell their musky, sweaty bodies. She could smell herself. An almost overwhelming aroma emanating from her wet, wet gash.

This was why she did it. This was why she lived for sex. That moment of perfect arousal. The moment when she could lose herself in the fucking. The French called the orgasm the little death, but for Jackie there was nothing little about it. It was magnificent. It was epic. It was huge.

And then her son had walked in.

She had looked back over her shoulder and saw him stood there. And now she asked herself a question.

What if he had stayed?

What if, instead of him turning tail and running out of the room, he had unbuttoned his shirt, unzipped his fly and tried to join in?

Would she have stopped him?

Jackie didn't know the answer.

She had experienced incest before. Her uncle had been amongst her first lovers. She had certainly role-played incestuous encounters down the years. When she was younger, there had been plenty of clients who had insisted on her calling them Daddy. And she had done so with excitement and enthusiasm. As she grew older, some called her Mommy.

It had never upset her or offended her. When it came to fucking, nothing ever did. More often than not it added an extra frisson to their sex. She enjoyed the transgressive. The taboo. But this wouldn't have been role-playing. This wouldn't have been pretend incest. This would have been very real indeed.

And then there was the other problem. Not quite as stark or momentous as the presence of her son, but a problem nonetheless.

Richie. Richie McCauley.

He had been there too. Stood right next to Marcus. The way he had been stood next to him throughout most of his life. The goofy, smart little kid, who had been his best friend for years. Richie was funny and lively, a lot more talkative than her sensitive, introspective, occasionally sullen child. She felt like she had enjoyed longer, more thoughtful conversations with Richie down the years than she ever had with Marcus.

And then there was one other complication when it came to Richie. His mother, Megan, who, at this precise moment in time, happened to be on her hands and knees in front of her, as Jackie fucked her with a strap-on dildo.

Megan McCauley - originally Megan Rayner - had known she preferred girls ever since she was little. But Megan was a devout Christian, from a family of devout Christians, and her conservative upbringing had inevitably led to a conventional heterosexual relationship with a young man from her church, called Johnny McCauley.

Their marriage was brief and relatively happy, all things considered. Richie was practically conceived on their wedding night, quite an achievement when you considered they were both virgins and they both wanted to sleep with women. Megan never lost her deeply suppressed interest in girls, but she made the best of things. Her commitment to her vows soon became irrelevant, however. It turned out, Johnny had an undiagnosed congenital heart defect and dropped dead only a few days after Richie's fourth birthday.

Megan lost her husband and her faith. But she was too naive, too timorous to go diving into the gay dating scene. Salvation came in an online chat-room, where someone suggested she hire an escort. Eventually, after months of equivocating and procrastinating she emailed an agency, and a few hours later, Jackie was at her door.

The initial encounter was a little embarrassing - Megan quickly recognising the biological mother of her son's best friend - but Jackie did what she did best, and ended up showing the young widow the time of her life. After three hours of pure enjoyment, involving copious amounts of finger-banging and cunnilingus, Megan was a wet mess on the floor. Jackie refused to take payment, and the two women had been meeting up a couple of times a month ever since.

Megan regarded Jackie as her girlfriend, but Jackie never conceded the point. She was happy to fuck her, but she was not a full-time dyke, and wanted the freedom to sleep with as many other people, professionally or otherwise, as she could. Men or women. Megan accepted that, content to be given what crumbs she received. She was deeply submissive and subordinated her desires. And, after more than ten years of practice, she was one of the best pussy-lickers this side of the Mighty Miss.

Tonight, she was on the receiving end of a particularly brutal fucking. Jackie occasionally felt guilty about the way she treated Megan. She supposed she loved her in a way, after all these years, but she exploited her affections. Jackie liked to fuck hard, and she could be pretty nasty in the sack, when it came to Megan. Not that she ever complained. She loved being knocked about and there were few humiliations Megan wasn't willing to endure to make Jackie happy.

Megan was face down on her bed, her body twitching and pulsing, as the hard rubber cock slid in and out of her cunt. Both women were naked and slick with sweat. The special harness Jackie was wearing had a smaller dildo attached on the inside, that was buried in her pussy. Each time she thrusted into Megan's twat, the smaller plastic knob, rebounded to greater sensual effect.

They both panted, groaned and whimpered, as the sex continued. Megan was conscious of her lover's greater intensity today. She didn't know why, but she didn't care. The harder she got fucked, the better, was Megan's motto. The waves of adoration practically rolled like breakers across her body. She loved Jackie so much. She worshipped her. She was so grateful for the pleasure and joy she brought to her life.

Eventually, Jackie wore herself out and collapsed on top of the other woman. The two of them lay there for a few minutes, both trying to get their breath back. Eventually, Jackie rolled over, the long, sticky rubber cock bobbed around in front of her, as she settled on her back. Megan rearranged herself, resting her head on the other woman's shoulder. She reached out and began caressing Jackie's breasts, playing gently with her nipples.

Megan loved these quiet moments of intimacy. She loved them almost as much as the moments they shared when they were in the throes of passion. Two beautiful, curvaceous women, both of them naked, snuggling up like a couple of teenage lovebirds.

"Someone was certainly in the mood today." Megan whispered.

"Sorry, Megan, was I a little rough on you?"

"Hardly. You know you can never be too rough with me. I'm yours to use and abuse. I'd have thought you'd have understood that by now."

"I can never quite come to terms with what an incorrigible dyke slut you are. Your neighbours no doubt see you as this prim and proper mother, but little do they know what a submissive, lesbian nympho you are."

"There are secrets behind every door in every street in the world."

"That's true enough, I suppose."

The two women lay there, kissing and touching each other. Nothing was said for the longest time. But then...

"Megan, there's something I need to tell you."

"What?" She sounded worried, concerned about what this news may be. Megan forever walked this tightrope, when it came to her lover. Despite Jackie's constant attempts to boost her ego, Megan suffered from poor self-esteem. Fundamentally, she didn't think she deserved her, and was always frightened of a moment when Jackie might bring the proceedings to an end.

"It's about Richie." Jackie said.

"What about him?" Megan queried, already her heartbeat slowing down a little, a sense of relief washing over her.

"A few days ago, he hired me."

"What?!"

"He hired me. For a date. Him and some guys from college paid for me to meet them at the old Mallard Hotel."

"And you met him?"

"After a fashion."