Corrupting the Bradley's - Anja

Ashamed knowing it was Kellen's cum flooding her mouth, my wife nonetheless swirled the warm fluid around briefly with her tongue, savoring the salty-sweet creaminess of his vital essence, and perhaps comparing it favorably to the thin, sour concoction she'd consumed from so many older men under Hank's weal.

"Unnh, uhh, ohhh," Kellen moaned as his erupting tool spewed the brimming contents of his youthful balls into his mother's mouth as she efficiently swallowed each pulse.

Caring and considerate, Emma's lips encircled his spastic rim nursing his cockhead until the last dribble diminished and then ceased altogether, with his copious release expertly vacuumed to her stomach.

"Better now, sweetie?" she asked with a knowing smile and a cute peck on the tip of his softening cock.

"Ohhh, fuck, mom, you give the best head," he exhaled with demented praise.

"Language, mister," she admonished sternly, returning to full mother mode despite sitting nearly naked at his bedside carrying an impressive deposit of his warm seed in her tummy.

"Sorry," he sheepishly apologized.

"Very good. Now, you shouldn't have any problems concentrating in class," she said, patting his shoulder just as any loving mother would her son while rising to leave.

At the doorway, draping her chemise sexily over her left shoulder, Kellen's temptress mother gave a deliberate swish of her ripe ass in a move adhering to Hank's directive to keep the sexual tension constant.

"Try not to think too much about my promise," she advised with a coquettish wink, gazing over her shoulder exposing the generous silhouette of her large right breast, "or you'll be too hard to get any learning done at all today."

*****************

So, there it was, set out and plainly revealed.

At Hank's order, Emma needed to deceive the mother of one of Kellen's best friends into an adulterous affair with our 18-year-old son and she needed to do it quickly.

Anja Bradley, the late 30's mother of Tim Bradley was the unlucky woman selected - in part because she was attractive and highly desirable in keeping with Hank's criteria, but also because Emma knew certain truths about Anja and Frank's relationship proving useful as leverage in manipulating the faithful mother and housewife into breaking her marital vows.

Tim and Kellen are best buddies, with Emma and Anja forming a sociable bond - sharing carpools and watching their ballgames and other sporting events, so a glass of wine together wasn't anything remarkable or out of the ordinary.

Since the Bradley's lived just down the street, and Frank traveled frequently, it wasn't unexpected when my wife invited Anja to join her son Tim when he visited Kellen the next Saturday afternoon.

"Goodness gracious, listen to those two go at it," Emma commented good-naturedly to the pretty Finnish native while sipping a glass of chardonnay in the living room as Kellen and Tim battled through a video game in the nearby den. "They're as competitive over a silly video game as they are on the playing field."

"I know," Anja agreed with a chuckle. "They're so evenly matched in everything they do. I think that's why they get along so well."

The conversation was pleasant and engaging, but initially somewhat superficial, with talk of their kids, school, and community events, but my wife needed to steer it in a more treacherous direction, so after pouring them each a second glass, she turned towards that end.

"So, Anja, I don't mean to pry," Emma asked indelicately, doing just that, "but how are you coping with everything that happened with Frank last year?"

It was common knowledge in the neighborhood Frank had a wandering eye, perhaps undergoing a mid-life crisis as he entered his fifties - more than a decade older than his well-respected wife. Handsome but overly flirtatious, Frank's salacious overtures were rebuffed by more than one local wife over the last few years.

Hell, the bastard even hit on Emma, unsurprisingly receiving the same negative response, since at that time my gentle wife was still the reserved, honorable, and virtuous woman she'd been before falling into Hank's clutches.

"Oh, you mean, the thing?" the demure wife replied in oblique reference to the affair her husband was caught in the previous year.

"Well honey, yes, his affair," my purposeful wife put the no nonsense word to her friend's betrayal. "I know it must have hurt terribly. Are you moving forward, you know, getting past it?"

Emma's a smart lady and understands how a woman scorned responds to emotional injury. Although I never cheated, she had a negative experience in college before we met.

Callously, she intended reopening Anja's wound, raising her painful emotions and perhaps sparking the bitterness she knew Tim's mother experienced, not to mention the public humiliation as the suffering woman was aware most everyone in the gossipy neighborhood knew of the indiscretion.

"I'm okay, I suppose. Frank acts contrite and all, but I don't know, I don't think it's stopped him from casting an eye at the ladies," Anja confessed, professing more than usual about the personal matter, perhaps due to the wine but also a need to talk to someone about her bottled-up feelings.

"I probably shouldn't say this, Anja, but yeah, I think so. I mean, I've caught him checking me out inappropriately more than once, even recently," Emma conceded, revealing a truth she wouldn't normally expose under other circumstances.

The disconsolate woman glanced at Emma, expressing a knowing a look of apology but not anger. She knew it was true and understood my wife's natural attractiveness and statuesque body were a light to a moth, even to a man married to a true beauty like Finnish mother.

"He takes so many business trips, who knows what he's doing when he's out of my sight?" Anja fretted with resignation.

Emma nodded sympathetically and placed her hand on Anja's shoulder in a friendly gesture of solidarity, but also as a deliberate attempt at breaking the invisible physical barrier between the women.

My artful wife said nothing to Kellen, but there was a second element to my conniving boss' deceitful plan - one involving Emma's own Sapphic seduction of the troubled wife, requiring a gradual gaining of confidence and familiarity not currently existing between them.

Although she'd had numerous lesbian encounters since her induction into Hank's ring of tainted wives and daughters, Emma had not yet played the role of seductress to a woman. As she knew was effective with men, she assumed touching Anja so innocently was a good first step in developing a growing intimacy necessary to that sordid task.

Taking another big slug of the pleasing fermented grape, the ladies were caught off-guard when Kellen and Tim came bounding into the room, breaking the melancholy mood.

"Hey, mom, can we call out for pizza?" our single-minded son asked, clueless to the interruption and concerned only about his stomach.

"Sure. Just put it on my credit card, but don't spend too much," Emma answered agreeably.

Not uncommonly, the young men were dressed similarly in current teenage fashion - loose cargo shorts and tightly drawn muscle shirts. They're both fine athletes and teammates on the baseball team, although in the fall Tim went for wrestling, whereas Kellen played football.

Emma gave a quick once-over to Kellen's friend, noticing a definite resemblance to his raven-haired mother.

At 18-years-old and 5'10", Tim isn't as tall as our imposing son, but weighs a sturdy 185 lbs. composed of youthful muscle and sinew achieved from the same weightlifting Kellen enthusiastically embraced. His face bears many of the Finnish characteristics of his mother, with high cheek bones and a finely chiseled, somewhat pointed nose and chin.

Of course, his most compelling feature was the same piercing blue eyes as Anja offset brilliantly against his mop of jet-black medium length hair.

'He's a good-looking kid,' Emma thought, an untoward sexual rush coursing her body viewing the young man as a grown-up with a different eye than before.

Noting his firm butt and trim build, my sweet wife cringed realizing just how sexually twisted she'd turned under Hank's yoke, and how easily stimulated she became with perverse thoughts rambling in her mind from even the most innocent situations.

As Kellen headed towards the kitchen and his mother's purse, Emma caught our son take a brief look over his shoulder at Mrs. Bradley. It may have been her imagination, but she thought she caught a gleam in his eye she'd never seen from him before in the presence of the appealing wife and mother.

Kellen knows the deal, and I've no doubt he's thought about his best friend's mom in more salacious terms than usual since the revelatory conversation with Emma exposing Hank's design for Anja's corruption and ultimate moral downfall.

I bet the idea of Mrs. Bradley's seduction, once foreign and bizarre, was rapidly gaining favor with our increasingly libidinous and oversexed youngster.

Truthfully, the thought of fucking his buddy's mom to several screaming orgasms has its appeal, with Kellen assuming the role of her forbidden lover, and although unknowingly, turning her into a sex pawn for Hank Allenby.

"You know, Anja, if I may be so bold, turnabout is fair play," my daring wife suggested wickedly, redirecting the conversation towards the unsavory result she sought to foster. "I mean, in light of everything and all, it'd be fair for you to seek your own 'solace,' shall we say."

"Why, Emma Tyler, listen to you," Anja playfully chastised, surprised by the words coming from my upstanding wife, of all people. "Are you suggesting I, um, cheat on Frank? That seems so unlike you."

"I suppose it does, and I wouldn't think of it under other circumstances, but I believe in equity, and I don't think it's really cheating after Frank's betrayal," Emma fibbed convincingly.

Anja gazed at her with uncertainty, but she didn't wholly disregard the notion either.

"It may be payback, but a little retribution is well-deserved, and it sounds like you need a diversion yourself," she added, hoping to get Anja's mind bubbling with impure thoughts born of buried hostility towards her philandering husband.

"Wow, um, I hadn't thought about it, at least not in those terms," the exotic European housewife exclaimed truthfully, rearing with alarm but thankfully not challenging the proposition.

Internally, Emma was relieved at Anja's reaction, circumspectly fearing she'd be insulted and bolt out in offense, but instead received only the tepid rebuke expressing her bewilderment at my startling wife's unexpected idea.

The ladies took another swallow of wine pondering the preposterous suggestion, and the fact Anja didn't summarily dismiss it as inconceivable was a small victory for Emma.

"I mean, I wouldn't even know how to do such a thing," Anja confessed, unwittingly signaling she was even considering the possibility in a point my crafty wife picked up immediately.

"I know what you mean, Anja. Afterall, neither of us are really 'hook-up' app kind of gals, and a bar seems too, I don't know, dangerous for a married lady," Emma agreed falsely, treating the discussion as idle girl talk while guiding it along in the deceptive manner she surreptitiously intended.

"Oh, god no!" the manipulated wife glibly replied. "The bar scene was never my thing when I was single. Too many creeps, you know? I'd be afraid of some weirdo latching onto me I couldn't shake off."

"Yuck, I agree," Emma affirmed, happy with the direction the talk was taking and seeking to push it further. "Besides, if you were really going to do it, it should be with a younger guy. I don't think that's the type of bar you'd feel comfortable prowling."

Emma's use of 'prowling' purposefully gave the idea a naughty mischievousness, but also a distasteful turn, serving the dual purpose of heightening the intrigue while also scaring Anja away from such an anonymous venture.

"Younger men?" Tim's mother questioned, taking the bait.

"Of course! Isn't that what mature women want? I mean, men always want younger women, why shouldn't you want a young hunk?" Emma deceptively declared, planting the seed innocuously but certain to quickly reinforce her meaning.

"I suppose, but I hadn't really thought about it," Anja agreed easily enough.

"Well, think about it then. Wasn't Frank's affair with a younger woman," Emma cleverly countered, driving in the screws of Anja's residual emotional pain over his dalliance with a 20-something bimbo.

"I mean, if you're gonna do it, why would you want some old guy? Younger men have so much more to offer, if you know what I mean?" my wife devilishly pressed before her bemused mark even answered, skillfully maneuvering her inexorably down the path needed to further the game.

"I-I guess they do. I think maybe I've forgotten," the slightly tipsy housewife giggled.

"Yeah, it's been a long time for me too. Cute, muscular, dumb, and let's not forget, they can go all night," Emma quipped brazenly in return, citing the litany of youthful male benefits.

"A-ha, ha, ha!" both inebriated women burst out laughing at the lascivious joke, with the caterwauling loud enough to draw Kellen and Tim away from their game and into the living room.

"What's so funny?" our curious youngster questioned, looking at the pair of unusually boisterous mothers with perplexed misapprehension.

"See what I mean?" Emma guffawed, teasingly ridiculing Kellen while sneakily drawing her target's attention to him and subconsciously infusing his image as emblematic of the type of young men they were discussing.

Anja's deep blue eyes sparkled unintentionally at the comment in unwitting recognition, again not going unnoticed by my eagle-eyed wife.

"It must be the wine," Kellen scoffed in turning to Tim, with the handsome lads retreating to finish their video game while waiting for the pizza delivery.

"They do have their benefits, but I'm not exactly in a position to meet one. I mean, it's not like I hang out on college campuses," Anja begrudged, unknowingly playing into my Machiavellian wife's hands.

"No, I think neither you nor I would fit in there anymore, although I hear the young guys are all into MILFs these days," Emma agreed, adding the hint of sauciness to the thought.

"Ohhh, you're bad," Tim's misled mother chortled in recognition of the acronym and its salacious meaning.

"No, the college scene wouldn't work, and anyway, it makes more sense to shop closer to home," Emma diabolically pivoted to her true point.

"Huh, what?" Anja questioned, stopping in her tracks, uncertain of Emma's allusion and seeking clarification.

"Closer to home. You know, not some anonymous guy with who knows what kind of baggage. Maybe one of Tim's friends?" Emma proposed audaciously. "Most of them are cute, wide-eyed, and easily controlled. They're over 18-years-old, so that's perfect."

"Oh, my, I'd never thought. I mean, I know most of their mothers. They'd kill me," Anja stammered, visibly flustered, and pausing between her thoughts while considering this most rash suggestion.

"They're adults now, and mommy doesn't need to know, or perhaps she just won't care," my ready wife pounced, unveiling her most daring ploy yet and one on which her ultimate success hinged.

Anja Bradley sat stunned, as if a forbidden world opened in her mind, with no inkling of its meaning or how to respond to the inconceivable prospect.

Silence filled the room, and each woman sipped their wine reflectively, with Emma designing her next gambit while observing Mrs. Bradley closely, searching for clues and noting the gears turning in her head thoughtfully rather than with a look of horror.

"I know, it sounds ridiculous, Anja, but nobody deserves it more than you, and it sounds like naughty fun," Emma pushed, immediately bolstering her awful intent.

"Maybe, but I wouldn't even know how to do such a thing," her bamboozled friend granted, unknowingly continuing down the path of Emma's deceitful game.

"Oh, sure you would," my wife mocked perfidiously. "You're a pretty older woman with experience. Don't tell me you don't know how to get a man's attention, even a much younger man."

The compliment was true, but also useful in greasing the wheels as Emma worked her linguistic magic leading the devoted wife into temptation.

"Take Kellen, for example. I've seen the way he looks at you," she ventured bravely. "A virile young man like my son, he'd be putty in your hands."

"Kellen? Seriously?" Anja hesitated, set off-balance by Emma's unseemly observation. "He looks at me, um, that way?"

"Yes, silly. Why wouldn't he? You're gorgeous, exotic, and have a killer body. Of course, he'd be interested," Emma opined, making light of the query, and obsequiously piling on the fawning praise, while also inserting our lustful young man onto the list of potential candidates Anja wasn't even aware she was compiling.

"I'm sorry, I just, never thought of him that way," our nonplussed neighbor confessed, but now doing that very thing for the first time.

"Well, I'm pretty sure he's thought of you that way," my determined wife pressed, needling the addled mother as she implanted the previously unthinkable notion in her brain.

"Look Anja, yes, he's my son, but he's also a vital young man and he's constantly horny," Emma rolled on duplicitously. "They're always hard at that age, and always in need of relief, if you know what I mean?"

Anja sat stupefied, pondering everything my suddenly prurient wife said while considering its meaning.

"Jeez, dear, I even catch Kel's leering eye checking me out on occasion," my wife lured obscenely. "Sure, I'm his mom, but I'm also a woman. I'm guessing Tim is the same way with you. Honestly, you'd probably be doing me a favor."

The last words rocked Mrs. Bradley's world, shaking her moral core, and drawing her irresolutely back into the reckless conversation.

"Are you suggesting I, um, approach Kellen?" Anja asked with a nervous swallow.

"Well, not necessarily, but I wouldn't say anything if you did," Emma retreated tactically without rejecting the idea, then advanced again just as strategically. "Kellen's a hormone-crazed guy in need of an outlet. You need one too. You'd probably be good for each other. You know, help each other out."

"I don't know, it's just so, well, odd," the flummoxed black-haired beauty stammered, a clear sign she was pondering the possibility in another victory for my wife.

"Odd, at first, I suppose, but Kellen's a good guy, and handsome too, if I do say so myself," Emma countered scandalously. "He's well-built and I'm willing to bet 'well-equipped' too, if you understand my meaning."

'Ding-dong!'

The doorbell chimed with the arrival of the pizza, creating a timely break before Anja could respond to the most unusual discussion of her life but not before Emma cleverly sowed one last seed.

"We'd better go eat," she interjected. "Look, this is just talk, right, but I think Kellen needs the guidance of an experienced woman, and I think you'd get a lot out of it too."

Munching pizza at the dining room table ten minutes later, my observant wife spied Anja nervously cast a sideways glance at Kellen, biting her lower lip with sexual tension and holding her gaze long enough to survey his toned arms and chest before looking down again pensively as she took another mouthful.

The seed planted, Emma breathed a sigh of both relief and sorrow at the demented thought germinating in Anja's mind, knowing the first step was successfully completed, with step two commencing in a few days after the risqué proposal had time to take root and grow.

*****************

Frank Bradley is a cheating bastard and poor husband, but he has one redeeming virtue - he truly cares about his only son, Timothy. Every year they go on a special father-son fishing trip - a bonding experience worth pulling Tim out of class for a few days. Neither the older, nor younger, Bradley would miss the trip for the world.