Breaking the Drought

Stooping to retrieve what remained of my underwear I wiped my pussy and then his cock with a satisfied sigh. "I think we both needed that," I whispered, and we both laughed as he echoed my exact words even as I uttered them.

Minutes later, Jerry came in and surprised me by giving me a peck on the cheek. "I'm sorry I was a bit abrupt before," he mumbled, without offering any further explanation.

I wasn't convinced of his sincerity, but I was still on a high with my still tingling pussy too full of cum to make an issue of it, so I merely shrugged. "Everyone has their off days."

After dinner the three of us watched TV in uneasy silence until bedtime, where I lay listening to Jerry's snores and remembering how thrilling it had been watching him through the curtains as Alex rammed his potent weapon in and out of my pleasure centre. After a while I sighed and pulled my nightie up around my neck, and for a full half hour one hand mauled my tits, as the fingers of the other drove relentlessly into my wet cunt until my cum soaked the sheet under my bare ass.

The next day, any hope of finding a few stolen moments with Alex was dashed, when Jerry declared that the weather was too nice to waste the day indoors, and that he could use some help sorting out the overgrown garden. His tone made it clear that I was expected to be that 'help,' and rather than deal with a repeat of his petulance of the day before, I changed into some old clothes and followed him to the shed.

Despite my reluctance the warm spring sun felt good on my back, as I knelt pulling weeds and tidying up the flowerbeds, and before I realised, Alex was calling out that lunch was ready. There were three plates of sandwiches on the kitchen table when Jerry beckoned me to down tools and led the way indoors, and Alex was busy making coffee. He watched as his father went to wash his hands, and came around the counter.

"Do you have any idea how tempting you looked on your hands and knees?" he whispered, pressing the crotch of my gardening slacks into my pussy. I giggled and pulled away when I heard Jerry's footsteps, then went to wash my own hands.

As I ate, my thoughts turned to how exciting the last few days had been. Now that I knew how it felt to be willingly and lustily fucked I wanted more. In fact I felt that if it were humanly possible, I would happily take my son's hard cock ten or more times a day, but knowing the limitations of the male organ, the chances of that ever happening were somewhere between zero and nil.

Yet despite the irresistible lure, or illicit thrill -- or whichever way you choose to describe it -- of incest, the cock I wanted most was my husband's. Put simply, whilst I loved my son dearly, for all his shortcomings I was, and always would be in love with Jerry.

Lunch finished, I went back to my weeding, and kneeling by the flower bed I recalled what Alex had said about how I looked on hands and knees. Without warning I had a sudden mental image of Jerry standing watching as my son knelt on the grass behind me, grasping my hips and pulling me back onto his plundering cock, and I sat back on my heels, trying to hide my trembling as an involuntary orgasm flashed through me. I had no idea what had prompted such a thought because sex with my son was one thing while sex with my husband was another, and they must always remain separate. Not only could I never do it with one whilst the other other looked on, but I had absolutely no wish to.

Jerry's sullen mood seemed to mellow a little as the afternoon wore on, and just before Alex called us to say dinner was ready, he smiled ruefully. "I'm sorry about being so grouchy. There have been some problems at work, but now I've had time to think about it I think I can sort it out."

I knew it would be futile to ask him to explain, because he never talked about his work, so I merely nodded and squeezed his hand. After dinner I carried the dirty plates to the kitchen and placed them on the counter, half hoping that Alex would follow me to help with the washing up -- and with the tingle between my legs. I knew that a fuck was out of the question with Jerry wide awake, but if we stood close to the counter at least Alex could feel my pussy with relative safety and if Jerry came in, the counter would provide sufficient concealment long enough for us to move apart. However, it wasn't to be, because Jerry decided to demonstrate his improved mood by telling me to watch TV with Alex, and he would wash the dishes. I didn't dare show my disappointment, so I thanked him and took my usual seat on the couch beside my son. With the couch in full view from the kitchen door, it was far too dangerous for him to push his hand down the front of my slacks to finger my pussy, so I had to be content with him rubbing my slit through the layers of coarse fabric, which defeated the purpose, since the multiple folds reduced the sensation to a barely noticeable pressure, making me even more frustrated.

As the evening progressed I realised that my only chance of satisfaction was if Jerry was in the mood at bedtime. Either that or wait until he was asleep and go to Alex. Unfortunately fate was against me, because in bed Jerry took my hand, holding on tight until he drifted off. Each time I attempted to break his grip, he mumbled in his sleep and grasped my hand more firmly, until I had no option but to use my fingers until I was relaxed enough to drop off into a restless slumber.

Monday was laundry day, and routinely checking the soiled clothes to make sure nothing had been left in the pockets, I felt a flexible rectangular shape in the pocket of my son's shirt. Unfastening the button, I extracted an empty blister pack of the kind used to package medication. Turning it over, I straightened the broken foil until I could make out the name of a common brand of sedative. I stared at it in puzzlement. Alex had never shown signs of sleeplessness. And then I had a more chilling thought. Surely he hadn't turned to drugs? Like most modern parents I had always vigilantly looked for any of the more common symptoms, but found none.

As I struggled to find another explanation, a thought came to me, and although I didn't want to believe it, it certainly fitted. It could explain why, when I had been struggling against my son's attempts to stick his cock into me, he had been so confident that his father would not awaken. This led me to an even more shocking conclusion, and everything suddenly became crystal clear, as I recalled that the sedatives were the same as those frequently referred to in the media as 'date rape drugs.'

Although my dreams had only started a few weeks ago, my naps had begun several months before, around the time Alex had first started his training, and bringing meals home. I had wondered about the slight underlying bitterness of his food at times, but put it down to over seasoning. Now I knew without a shadow of doubt, that he had been sneaking home and feeling me up whilst I slept. In hindsight there had been days when I had woken from my nap with my pussy wet and tingling. At the time, in the absence of any other explanation, I had dismissed it as subconscious yearning, but now I was becoming convinced that he had actually stuck his cock in and fucked me, perhaps gathering the sticky evidence in his cupped palm, before carefully straightening my clothes and leaving. Later, during my dreams, he must have purposely pushed my own fingers into my pussy so I wouldn't suspect the truth.

I knew that I had every right to feel enraged, but there was no escaping the certainty that I would never knowingly have allowed my own son to groom me, leading me patiently up to the moment when I had willingly surrendered my aroused cunt to his thrusting cock.

Well, what had happened couldn't be changed, so I buttoned the plastic pack back into his shirt and dropped it into the washing machine.

Alex came home shortly after lunch, and the instant I saw him there was nothing I wanted more than to feel his hard cock driving into me, but I was still resenting his sneakiness, so when he reached for me I rebuffed him. It tore me up to see the hurt in his eyes, but I couldn't bring myself to add embarrassment and humiliation to the hurt by revealing that I knew of his deception. Besides, he might argue that the end justified the means, and his cock felt so good when he was thrusting into me that I couldn't honestly deny it. Instead I muttered something about still having some gardening to do, and went outside. Despite his pleas and protests, I pottered around aimlessly until Jerry came home, and then I went into the house and started preparing dinner.

Alex kept coming into the kitchen and trying to feel me as I cooked, but I remained resolute. When he tried again later when I was washing the dishes, I almost weakened, allowing him to put his hand under my skirt and inside my pants, but the instant he touched my pussy I pushed him away again. To say that the atmosphere between us was tense for the rest of the evening is putting it mildly, and I was relieved when he finally went to bed. Simply being in the same room as him, and seeing the pleading in his eyes had made me unbearably wet, and it was only my stubbornness that stopped me from going to his room and letting him fuck me to a standstill. As it was, by the time Jerry declared himself ready for bed I was so strung out that I followed him immediately, and slipped naked under the covers, reaching abruptly for his cock. Instead of the hoped for and much needed response, he shot me a startled look before switching off the light and turning his back, again leaving me to seek some release with my fingers.

For reasons known only to him, Alex made no attempt to touch me next day, even though after many attempts to tempt him, I resorted to posing shamelessly on my hands and knees in the back garden, with my skirt up and my bare pussy facing the kitchen window as he made coffee. That night I lay in bed alongside my sleeping husband, urgently fingering my slit until I was finally able to sleep. The next day was no better, with Alex studiously ignoring me, although just about every time I looked at him he seemed to have a raging hard on straining the front of his pants.

After dinner I made up my mind that if my son had lost interest, I may as well do something to try to tempt my husband, and deciding on the one thing I had come close to but hadn't actually done, I went into the bathroom and carefully shaved my pussy. When Jerry finally started yawning, I raced up the stairs, and when he came into the bedroom I was lying with my nightie pulled up to my waist, and my handiwork clearly on display. I thought I detected a spark of interest when he saw my smooth slit, and I hurried to the bathroom to 'pretty' myself up. After taking a pee and brushing my teeth, I put a dab of perfume between my breasts and legs, and opened the bathroom door, almost bumping into Alex. Before I could react, he hooked a finger in the neckline of my nightie and stared down at my breasts.

"Nice tits ma," he leered as he moved past me and into the bathroom.

Returning to my room I nearly screamed with frustration. I hadn't been gone more than five minutes, but already Jerry was snoring. For what seemed an eternity I lay beside him, deliberately tossing and turning in the hope of waking him, but when my efforts proved fruitless I sighed and went to the door. Peering along the passage, I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw a sliver of light shining under my son's door. Swallowing my pride, I dropped my nightie on to the floor and naked and unashamed I walked the few paces to his room.

He looked up and grinned when I stuck my head around the door. "Come in mom," he smirked, "I knew you wouldn't be able to stay away."

I so wanted to slap the smugness from his face, but instead I straddled him quickly, leaning back slightly to enjoy his surprised delight as he watched my bald cunt descend on his vibrant cock.

"Fuck mom, that's awesome," he breathed, all smugness gone as he reached and pressed a fingertip to my exposed and prominent clit.

I looked at him in surprise, because I had never heard him use the 'F' word, but when he stroked my love button I started to rise and fall on his shaft. My breathing became ragged as he stroked, then he pulled me forward, his greedy mouth devouring my tits as I fucked him furiously, determined to quench the fires that had raged unchecked since I had rejected his advances. I rode him wildly for several minutes, then he pushed me off and on to my back. Raising my legs, he pushed my knees against my chest and stared at my upraised splayed pussy.

"Yum!"

The single word set my heart racing as he lowered his head and licked slowly up and down my smooth lips, before plunging his tongue deeply inside my recently vacated hole. For I don't know how long, his seemingly prehensile tongue took me on a roller coaster ride of ecstasy, sending my cum oozing down between my butt cheeks, and down my bent and strained back. When my latest orgasm was in full flow he stopped licking, and with scarcely a pause he replaced his tongue with his cock, fucking me almost savagely until he filled my swollen cunt with a hot sticky stream.

When he stopped pumping and withdrew, I immediately covered him with my mouth, licking and greedily sucking out the last drops of his healthy young seed. As his drained cock softened in my mouth his breathing became more regular, and I rose and pulled the covers over him, before switching off the light and tiptoeing back to my own bed.

With Jerry dozing fitfully behind me, I lay on my side, floating on the wave of euphoria that follows an exhilarating fuck, and stared into the darkness thinking how drastically my life had changed. Just as I was coming down from my sexual high, Jerry turned over in his sleep, and his arm fell lightly across my waist. Snuggling back against him, I moved his hand to my breast, rubbing it none too gently across my nipples. Very gradually the rhythm of his breathing changed, and I felt the tip of his expanding tool nudge between the bloated hairless lips of my just fucked pussy. As he became more awake, he drew back slightly, and moved his hand back to my waist. I pressed back, taking a little more of his cock into me and replaced his hand, curling his fingers around the contour of my boob.

"It's OK my love," I whispered reassuringly. "It's meant to happen."

He was still for a few moments, before his fingers tightened, then he was fondling my tits as our son just had, pulling my swollen nipples as our son just had, fucking me as our son just had, making me cum as our son just had, and finally flooding my cum filled cunt as our son just had. As the two loads of seed mingled in the depths of my well fucked snatch, I drifted into an exhausted and dreamless sleep.

It has now been more than five months since the events I have described unfolded, and my life is better than I could ever have dreamt. A day seldom passes when I don't joyfully open my legs for my son's hard cock, or my mouth if that's what he prefers, and often both.

I like being the object of his desire. For the first time in my life I feel truly sexy, and it has given me new confidence. When out shopping, I now notice the way men look at me, undressing me with their eyes, and at times I have imagined I could feel lips on my nipples, fingers in my pussy. One time when I was shopping for clothes, a man inadvertently pushed open the door of my fitting room. It took less than a second before he realised his mistake, and I was fully clothed, but it excited me to think that if he had been a minute later, he might have seen my tits.

The situation with my husband continues to improve, and he now fucks me up to three, sometimes four times a month. He still shows slight signs of guilt occasionally, but these times are fewer since I learned that it eases his conscience somewhat if I take the initiative. Happily, after all these years I now know what his cum tastes like. The first time I sucked his cock I was hesitant, because I was not sure how he would react, but he merely stroked my hair and cheeks as he watched me slide my lips up and down his shaft, taking care not to use my tongue too much in case he suspected how skilled I had become. When I swallowed his cum I looked anxiously into his face for any trace of guilt or revulsion, but I saw only calm acceptance, as though he had decided that having his cock in my mouth was a lesser sin than intercourse. Unlike his son, he has been unable to bring himself to push his tongue inside my pussy, but he has kissed the closed lips once or twice, so I remain hopeful.

A couple of times recently in moments of pure mischief, I have hinted to him that Alice might be as willing in other ways as she is in her work. I doubt if he will ever find out -- he is still far too repressed to try -- but it amuses me to picture him driving his cock into her. If he should ever find the courage though, I have no objection to sharing his cock with her, because it may encourage him to finally free himself of his restraints, and that can only be good for all of us. Besides, I share my cunt with two men, so I see no reason he shouldn't share his cock with two willing cunts.

I have saved the best for last. Three and a half weeks ago I visited my doctor, explaining that although I am still some years short of forty, I suspected I may be entering early menopause. She made no comment other than to take a blood sample, and ask me to pee in a jar, telling me to come back next day for the test results. When I returned, she stunned me with the news that far from being menopausal, I was in fact pregnant. After I recovered from the shock, I asked why now, rather than when Jerry and I had been trying so hard for a second child, when Alex was tiny. The doctor explained that it was not uncommon for prolonged and frequent breastfeeding to inhibit conception, as could an over anxiety to become pregnant.

Although I was excited, I was also a little nervous when I broke the news, but both of my lovers were over the moon. Jerry took us all out to dinner to celebrate, and for the first time in his life he tasted alcohol, although he was adamant that in my 'delicate condition' it would be wiser for me to abstain. Not surprisingly two glasses of wine went to his head, and in typical fashion, when we returned home Alex took advantage of his father's befuddled state to celebrate in his own way, by coaxing me into the garden and fucking me on hands and knees under the stars, keeping his cock firmly buried until every last drop of cum was deep inside my pussy, 'just to make certain.'

I insisted on going to his work with Jerry next day to break the news to Alice. She was genuinely delighted, and hugged us both warmly, although it seemed to me that she hugged him for a little longer than was altogether necessary. In the hour I was there, her eyes seemed to linger on him, so perhaps she does have a thing going for him, if not actually with him. I studied her covertly as she bustled around making coffee, envious of her firm high breasts and symmetrical bottom, wondering how he could work all day with her and keep his hands to himself, and secretly hoping that he wouldn't for too much longer. To my admittedly biased mind, a body like hers was created to be fucked, and fucked often, and to waste it was nothing short of criminal.

Needless to say my son is as certain as my husband that he is the father. I like to think it happened on one of the occasions I went from Alex's bed to my own, but to be honest, I neither know nor care. The only thing I am certain of is that the newcomer, when he or she arrives, and I am hoping for a daughter, will be surrounded by unconditional love, as am I.