Corrupting the Bradley's - Tim 01

"Whew, I'm not sure who won, but I guess you'd have to say our sons did," Emma breathlessly declared a minute later with a laugh, gasping air after releasing Tim's depleted cock from between her glazed lips.

"I'd say they look pretty happy," Anja roundly agreed, chuckling at the truth without realizing how sexy she looked squatting half-naked in our living room, her blushing face and full tits painted with the translucent results of Kellen's untimely launch.

The two young athletes peeked briefly at each other, thanking their lucky stars, certain it didn't matter who won 'Mother Cocksucker' for the night, because they were clearly taking home the prize after the splendid blowjobs from their unbelievably wanton mothers.

"We like winning," Tim crowed his elation at the wonderful blowjob by my august wife.

"Yeah, we like it a lot. We're happy to compete whenever you want," Kellen howled, joining him with immature gusto at the prospect of future entertaining competitions between the mature sirens.

As badly as I wanted to watch the unfolding sextravaganza and see what direction it took, I needed to get back to my study and attempt another frustrating effort at jerking off through my metal cage to the obscene images I'd witnessed, rather than trying to do so without detection from my hiding place.

That night, Kellen and Anja made a trek to our son's bedroom, and I heard them loudly screwing at least twice over the course of the long night. Tim retired with Emma, fucking her to a powerful, headboard banging orgasm, before pouring his second load of the evening into her welcoming pussy.

"OH GAWWD! OH GAWWWD! OH TIM, I'M CUMMING! I'M CUMMMING!" my wife bellowed ferociously, her hardworking stud pounding her into the mattress and her sturdy legs pushed back with ankles pinned to her ears.

Increasingly vocal during sex since our indenture to Hank, Emma sounded especially loud tonight, and I wondered if it was a conscious effort for Anja to hear the throes of ecstasy her virile son could induce in a mature woman.

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

Over coffee the next morning, Emma told me about the events of the evening, aware I had likely spied and already knew many of the details after witnessing the pornographic ongoings in the living room.

Correctly, she suspected I had also discreetly parked myself outside our open bedroom door, listening to the raucous shenanigans as she and Tim fucked, but graciously said nothing about my infraction.

Patiently, I hung on Emma's every word, getting another rush simply hearing my beloved talk in her raspy morning voice about the profligate events ultimately designed to get cautious Finnish beauty Anja Bradley naked on her back with not only Tim, but other young men too.

"Overall, I made good progress," Emma confided ambivalently at our kitchen table. "We went pretty far, but I'd like to have taken it just a little farther. You know, maybe have sex in the same room, or even steal a quick kiss between Tim and Anja. Or Anja and me, for that matter."

Her progress aside, there was a moroseness about her tone, telling me she retained enough decency within her heart to be truly saddened by the perfidious road she was leading the Bradley's along. Still, she was also clearly disappointed she hadn't accomplished even more licentious intercourse.

"They left for home just before dawn. I think Kellen's still asleep, but if I know our son, I'm guessing he put the wood to Anja pretty hard, much the same way Tim did me," she concluded frankly, succinctly wrapping up the evening's debauchery by alluding to her intimate familiarity with our son's sexual vigor and prowess.

I knew that was a correct assumption after meandering down the hall hearing Anja's shrieks of rapture, accompanied by Kellen's deep huffing and grunting, pummeling the yielding woman's needy cunt to a series of soul-destroying climaxes.

I gotta say, it turned me on something fierce listening to the petite woman orgasm in such an exultant manner.

"I'm certain Anja heard Tim and me fucking from Kel's room," Emma advised satisfactorily, adding the sordid detail knowing I shamelessly wanted to hear and confirming a point I already suspected. "I made a point of cumming pretty loudly, although honestly, Tim hammered me so hard and long it wasn't like I needed to fake anything."

"Oh, to be eighteen again," I mumbled in agreement, despairing at what our once happy marriage had become, but also terribly aroused by the image of my adored wife climaxing so intensely under the strenuous efforts of the tireless youth.

"Oh, to be eighteen, well-hung, and athletic is what I think you mean?" she gibed in a good-natured ribbing, understanding my deeply embedded sexual perversity and signaling with a smile she still loved me despite everything.

"Yeah, lucky Tim," I replied with a coy smile.

"Lucky me," Emma concurred with a sly wink.

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

The following week was eventful, with Anja making nearly daily visits to our son, and bringing Tim in tow to spend time laboring between Emma's widespread thighs.

With Kellen occupied by Anja, my wife was focused entirely on Tim, which was plenty enough as the vital youngster was insatiable when it came to availing himself of her big tits and sumptuous curves.

Now, it was the next Sunday and unusually quiet.

Frank took Tim out for the day for some 'guy time' and a ballgame, leaving Mrs. Bradley alone, with only the gnawing horniness that was now a constant companion for the sexually-awakened wife and mother.

Anja sensed a change in her mind and attitude, as the sheer volume of exhilarating sex with our commanding son generated a greater hunger for more powerful fucking, rocketing her libido into orbit, her brain alive with thoughts of hard driving, submissive sex, and illicit interludes with young men sporting big cocks.

Surprising her most, and giving her a momentary pause considering the ramifications, the young men in her fantasies weren't limited to Kellen, although she most definitely had a strong affinity for his large, climax-inducing staff and remarkable ability to wield it so effectively at such a young age.

Shortly after the guys left, desperately seeking to quell the burning fire in her inflamed pussy with her favorite vibrator, images of Kellen banging Anja on her husband's treasured desk were inadvertently interrupted by the faces of Tim's other buddies and teammates, featuring good looks, toned athlete's bodies, and hard shafts that never went soft.

"Oh, no, no," she whinnied when a quick flash of Tim's big smile, vibrant blue eyes, and black tasseled hair suddenly filled her mind, shaking her head violently breaking loose of the disturbing image.

Trembling and unnerved, Anja put the vibe away with the task incomplete, her soul addled by the confusing thought, and unfortunately, still highly stimulated, and also unsatisfied.

By 2:00 p.m., she could no longer contain her need, fidgeting and pacing, frustrated and desperately needing to take advantage of her husband's absence with a visit to her dominant young stud, happily fucking her into ecstatic oblivion maintaining her sanity.

Marching frantically to our home, hoping Kellen was available to ease her urgent desire and calm her oversexed libido, on ringing the doorbell, she was thankfully greeted by the friendly visage of my wife.

"Hi Emma," Anja said anxiously, twisting on her feet, with an active chewing of her bottom lip as an involuntary display of her untapped sexual need.

The lovely late-30's mother wore a fitted, sleeveless navy blouse, unusually braless and unbuttoned at the top for the trip up the street, along with a casual short, ruffled skirt revealing the expanse of her pale legs on the warm afternoon in what was clearly a signal of her disheveled state and anticipation of a much-needed session in our son's bed.

"Hello Anja, I'm glad to see you. You're looking, um, provocative today," Emma greeted politely, understanding the change in their relationship after that notorious Saturday night, and seeking to maintain the cordial but sexually scintillating banter ongoing between them.

"Oh, that noticeable, huh?" Mrs. Bradley returned, an agitated waver edging her voice.

"Yes, I'd say you're wearing it on your sleeve, if you had any," Emma gibed, alluding openly to Anja's formfitting navy blouse highlighting the gentle slope of her generous C-cup tits.

"Umm, yes, certainly. About that, is Kellen around?" Anja acknowledged distractedly, bashfully approaching my amused wife with her true purpose.

After the clearinghouse meeting turned blowjob contest the prior Saturday, Emma sincerely hoped the sexually intoxicated housewife visited more frequently and was glad her initiative worked well the past week. Deviously, however, she also wanted to occasionally withhold access to Kellen, for a variety of reasons.

For one, Emma wanted Anja's intermittent and unpredictable denial raising her sexual urgency, building within the long-ignored woman an unquenchable yearning for young cock, and driving Anja to ever greater heights of wantonness satisfying her irresistible carnal cravings.

Also, she didn't want the newly libertine mother to exclusively depend on Kellen for sex, resulting in an unfortunate crush or fixation. Instead, Emma wanted Anja to 'spread it around,' so to speak, and intended to navigate the manipulated beauty towards other outlets when she couldn't get her 'Kellen fix.'

Ever the opportunist, my wife continuously planted seeds of iniquity within the emotionally fragile woman's mind, employing subtly suggestive comments interspersed harmlessly within their conversations guiding Anja's path to degeneracy and moral abandon.

Without Emma knowing it, Anja's alarming fantasy during her recent unsuccessful masturbation session suggested that process was already well under way.

"I'm sorry, Anja, but Kellen isn't here right now," she apologized truthfully, adding a little white lie as well. "He went out with his dad for lunch and to pick up a few things downtown. I don't expect them back until dinner."

In fact, I was home in my study completing a project for Hank keeping me conveniently out of the way.

Our fortunate son, on the other hand, was literally tied naked and spread-eagle to a four-poster bed in a guest bedroom at Hank's mansion outside of town, dutifully eating the cleanly shaved pussy of valued client Jerry Conrad's 45-year-old wife, Maxine, leisurely riding his face while attentively bent over Kellen's muscled torso joyously sucking his marvelously youthful prick.

"Damn, I just felt a certain, um, need," Anja stammered, disappointed and not sure where to turn.

"You mean the need to get laid? The need for my son's hard cock?" Emma interjected directly, gently prodding the agitated matron to express herself more forthrightly.

"Well, yeah, I hoped Kellen might, you know, fuck me, and now is a golden opportunity with Frank out of the house," she stated plainly, satisfying my wife's intent.

"Really, and what about Tim?" my duplicitous wife inquired, issuing an intended insinuation about Anja's own son, also missing in action for the afternoon.

Emma is clever with twisting language, wily placing in the rattled mother's subconscious the prospective image of her son as an available substitute for Kellen but couching it in indistinguishably vague terms.

"Ohhh? What? Tim? Um, he's with his father. They went to a ballgame. I don't think you'll get a visit today either," Anja answered haltingly, a doubtful turn of her head indicating Emma's attempt hit the mark, even if only as a flash popping into her mind.

"That's okay, I'm taken care of," Emma replied ambiguously, causing her friend to furrow her brow in confusion, before letting the telling comment go.

Still, Anja hesitated at our doorway, not wanting to leave but not sure what to do.

"Look, why don't you come in for a cup of coffee and we can talk," my forward-thinking wife offered. "It's a lovely afternoon. We can sit by the pool."

"Oh, that'd be nice, but maybe wine instead?" Anja instantly proposed, seeking the solace of a relaxing drink and a like-minded woman easing her rattled brain, as well as her constant obsession with hard-pounding sex.

"It might take your mind off it, or maybe we can find a better solution. Either way, I think you'll feel better by the time we're done," Emma added suggestively, artfully presaging her sinful objective.

Even from upstairs, I immediately recognized Emma's deceitful tactic, leveraging Anja's impassioned state to further her own seduction of Mrs. Bradley - part of Hank's mission and the perfect entree into an amorous relationship with our appealing Nordic neighbor.

I maintained my silence in my study, not wanting to accidentally crash Emma's plans, but that didn't stop me spying from the upstairs window.

Emma was dressed casually as you'd expect for a Sunday - shorts, cotton blouse, no make-up on her naturally beautiful face and, of course, her chestnut hair in a functional ponytail. She too was braless, a bit unusual these days because she often wore a bra when the kids weren't around, appreciating the support for her huge tits.

Detached and unhurried, the engaging suburban housewives moved to the patio, sitting in the padded lounge chairs by the pool yammering about life and kids for a half-hour before Emma shifted the conversation back to sex - a topic paramount in Mrs. Bradley's unsettled mind despite her hopes of escaping her nagging thoughts in idle banter.

"Our Saturday night 'Club' meeting surprised you a little, didn't it? You know, taking off my top in front of Kellen?" Emma asked bluntly, knowing the answer but using it as an opening.

"Hell yeah! Honestly, I was a little surprised with myself for stripping to my panties in front of Tim, but in light of everything, it didn't seem so odd," Anja responded certainly, confronting her own unexpected disrobing.

After a moment letting that confession settle, the candid Finnish mother added an obvious statement signaling the removal of another brick in the wall of her moral foundation under her flourishing dissolute lifestyle.

"I suppose our son's seeing our breasts isn't the most outrageous thing we did," she conceded with a knowing wink.

"Yes, well, guys like big tits, apparently even their own mother's, because Kel's eyes were all over me that night," Emma noted flagrantly, brushing off any misgivings about the incestuous innuendo her observation entailed.

"Oh, and the touch of our hands too, it seems," she added, referencing one of the more 'outrageous' things Anja alluded to with her remark.

"Well, that may have been a mistake," the embarrassment black-haired matron excused, still uncomfortable about handling her own son's erect cock.

"I doubt they thought so, and you must admit, it was impressive - sturdy and powerful," Emma countered leadingly, seeking to revisit the sensation of Tim's pulsing shaft within Anja's gentle grip.

"I guess so. I will say, they both get hard as a rock, and so easily too. I'm sure you noticed," Anja replied restlessly, uncertain what else to say to such a disreputable act by a mother.

"Oh, I noticed alright, and honestly, I wasn't that surprised. Kellen gets boners at the drop of a hat these days. Even those insipid sex comedies he watches on TV tents his pants, but I try not to embarrass him," my stealthy wife revealed tactfully, in the way any mother might candidly observe in confidence.

"It is a little distressing when it happens while he's surreptitiously eyeing my tits, though," she added, stirring the pot of improper lust between a wayward son and his alluring mother, keeping the conversation lively and forbidden.

Anja paused with the observation, perhaps wondering if Tim did the same in their home, checking her out behind her back, but then dismissed the notion and turned the discussion back to our virile son.

"If it's not too indelicate to say to his mother, when I take Kellen in my mouth, he's an iron bar," Anja offered timidly about the intimate conversation, so out of keeping with the normally routine talks they had until just recently.

"I'd be too if I was a guy. You're a beautiful, exotic older woman. I can understand how he feels," my designing wife suggested, intimating her own provocative attraction to the dazzling 38-year-old, classically northern European beauty.

"Oh, that's so nice, I think. I gotta say though, Tim's eyes were all over your breasts as well," Anja replied tenuously, too gracious to express her doubts about the odd statement, and inadvertently adding the stray thought playing perfectly into my wife's hands.

"Well, his hands were certainly all over them. He loves playing with my boobs, that's the truth. A kid in candy store, so to speak, but you seemed rather impressed yourself, if I may be so bold," Emma laughed, reminding Anja of her fascination with the huge melons, but trying not to boast, before focusing the attention back to her quarry.

"Busted, I guess, but they are pretty spectacular. If I had your breasts, men's eyes would be all over me too," the contrite wife confessed using the humorous pun, and blushing with an appreciative nod.

"You think so? Well, thank you, but don't sell yourself short. You've got an exceptional set of knockers yourself, in my humble opinion, and Kellen's talked about how much he loves the way they scoop into pointed cones," Emma replied descriptively, turning to crass vernacular conveying our son's vivid imagery to heighten the mood.

"Seriously? He told you about my breasts?" Anja gushed with girlish enthusiasm, pleased but flustered that her teenage lover had told his mom.

"Even before you dropped your bra the other night. As I said, guys talk, and they like tits, especially pretty ones. I know Tim checked out your chest plenty that night," my wife noted, hoping to ignite a deeply buried spark of arousal at the very notion.

"Oh goodness, really? I didn't see that," Anja gasped, reddening with embarrassment.

"Oh yeah, and if given a chance, I bet he'd be all over them like he's all over mine," Emma charged profoundly.

"Nooo! Not my Tim. Anyway, I think the guys already voted with their dicks, don't you think?" the sparkling raven-haired mother denied, good-naturedly joining the sordid fray, certain her breasts never received the frequent attention Emma's mountainous jugs attract.

"Possibly, but if I was a guy, I'd want at your lovely tits without a doubt. So firm and upright. Truly, their shape is divine. Hell, I even like them and I'm a woman," my wife raved, priming the pump and ready to push the envelope accomplishing her next objective.

Mrs. Bradley squirmed in her seat with the untoward compliment, uncertain how to respond to the daring remark, and unused to such admiration from another woman.

Seeing her discomfort, Emma leaned towards the discomfited wife as if conveying a secret, purposefully crowding Anja while brushing the insecure mother's bare arm 'inadvertently' with the side of her heavy right breast.

"Huhhh," Anja exhaled sharply at the contact, but sensed no threat from her well-meaning friend.

Radiating an aura of sensuality her prey found heady and confusing, leaving Anja characteristically unaccustomed to responding to such overt sexuality from a woman, Emma was ready to push the already daring conversation in a decidedly more extreme direction.

"Anja, do you enjoy oral sex?" she asked, whispering to create a sense of conspiracy and intrigue.

"Ummm, well, sure, I like giving head," the guarded matron pondered, tenuously sipping her wine.

"Not giving, sweetie, receiving. Do you like someone eating your pussy?" Emma asked with dulcet assuredness.

"Oh, that. Yeah, sure, if it's done right, but so few men know how to do it well. Hell, Frank never does it at all," Anja replied bitterly, shyly revealing her bedroom secrets while also disquieted by Emma's closeness, feeling her warm breath on her neck as she spoke.