Corrupting the Bradley's - Tim 02

"Hmmm, you are in need, aren't you, darling?" Anja noted with compassion and surprising yearning considering her intrinsic hesitance and uncertainty, spying the wetness marking Emma's engorged slit and swollen labia, glistening as evidence of her ardent stimulation.

A quiet but natural leader, Emma was usually a strong force leading innocent victims astray in sacrifice to my unbending employer's demented demands. Now, she was desperate and weak, chewing her lower lip anxiously just as Anja did, gazing longingly at her pretty acolyte, aroused, and in dire need of sexual relief.

"Please, Anja. I need it so badly. Please, make me cum," Emma asked with pouting frailty, supplicating her powerful matriarchal authority beseeching the untried woman to perform the coveted act of eating her pussy.

A rush of emotion overwhelmed Anja's soul, and she affectionately wanted nothing other than to help her girlfriend, letting her apprehension about cunnilingus slip away with her new resolve. Gazing passionately into Emma's green eyes, giving assurance, the daring mother lowered her mouth to within an inch of my wife's inflamed cunt.

Breathing deep one last time through flaring nostrils, steeling her nerves, Anja extended her tongue tenuously until contacting the puffy labia, drawing the moist tip deliberately along the seam as the petals parted making a clear path to the apex of Emma's soaking cleft.

"Oh gawwwd, that's wonderful," Emma swooned, thrilled by the much-needed contact.

Deep in her heart, my wife was emotionally excited it was sweet Anja Bradley from down the street going down on her pussy, and mentally relieved another piece of the destructive puzzle to her unaware friend's descent was accomplished.

Anja swiped again.

"Uhhhhh," Emma exhaled, shifting her hips in anticipation of the inexperienced woman ineptly licking her twat, adding an erotic element of unsophistication almost more exciting than if a hard-boiled lesbian was expertly eating her snatch.

Encouraged, Anja attacked my wife's pussy with vigor, suffering another blow to the foundation of her morality and not giving a damn, intent on securing Emma's orgasm, and not looking the part of incompetent straight girl in doing so.

"Yes, Anja, like that. Eat my cunt like that. Ohhh, you're doing good, sweetie," Emma gushed, sensing her new lover was uncertain in her technique and supportive of her awkward performance, realizing she was so horny she'd get off just knowing it was Mrs. Bradley's tongue licking her vagina.

"Smup, slurp, muuf," Anja lapped away, working along the widening fissure tasting the abundant nectar flowing from Emma's cunt and finding it not so objectionable as she'd feared.

"Hmmm, ummm, yesss," Emma mewled, joyously looking downward, eyeing the part at the top of Anja's head, bobbing in sync with her tongue.

The sense of her accomplishment overwhelming and very gratifying, my contented wife sank into the mattress, relaxing, and letting the untrained woman learn her way around a pussy without further guidance.

For the next five minutes, Anja explored the dark interior of a woman's pussy, pushing into the flexing hole, and inquisitively swiping at the soft warm walls. Curling her tongue, she boldly ventured deeper, fucking Emma with the small, pseudo-cock, and enjoying the effect of her effort in the squirming and shifting of her powerful hips.

"Ohhh, I need this, baby, finish me. Please, Anja, make me cum. I need to cum," Emma finally urged after luxuriating in the increasingly confident probes by the novice mother and craving the explosive climax she couldn't live without.

Experienced or not, Anja knew to transfer her attention to Emma's invigorated clit, swollen, and distended from beneath its fleshy hood in extreme need of an animated tongue tip dancing on its perceptive surface, triggering the avalanche of sensation launching her to nirvana.

"Ahhhhh, yesss, there! Suck my clit! I can't, ohhh, hold on," my caterwauling wife surrendered to her orgasm as the waves rolled throughout her tremoring body, sending her giant tits careening on her chest and her taut pelvis undulating with the power of her release.

"Mummph, muhh," Anja's muffled moans of satisfaction slipped between her lips, pressed tightly to Emma's fitful clitoris, holding on tightly while her target jerked spasmodically through a second rocking climax under the continuous tormenting of the excited little sex button.

"Ohhh, cummming again, ohhhhhhh," Emma babbled incoherently, reflexively clamping her strong thighs and riding pretty Mrs. Bradley's face for another thirty seconds until the last pulse of her third orgasm passed and she relaxed, finally releasing her exhausted lover.

"Huhhh," Anja inhaled deeply, removing her lips from the saliva-coated surface of Emma's bald cunt, reddened, and inflamed from the oral treatment received from the novice pussy eater.

"That was, um, unlike anything I've done in my life, but I'm wrecked," the newly initiated housewife declared, climbing up the bed and dropping her nude body next to Emma.

Cuddling closely as lovers in a way uncommon with insensitive men, Anja sought an intimacy missing from her marriage to Frank, or even her indecent relationship with our son.

It was an embrace best shared between two women, with Emma turning to her side, facing Anja and wrapping her arms around her friend's shoulders, unintentionally pressing their large unbound tits together in an erotic post-cunnilingus coupling I desperately wished to have witnessed, but was left to only imagine.

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

'Beep'

It was just before 9:00 p.m. as the pair of furtive lovers huddled in our bed when Emma's phone sounded with a text message. Suspecting it was Kellen, she checked her messages, with Anja's naked body held in her other arm.

"Uh-oh, sorry, dear, but no Kellen fix tonight," she sighed with false regret, seeing an unexpected opportunity to move her scheme forward after consummating the distasteful task of converting the modest mother into her bisexual lover.

"Ohhh, why not?" Anja bemoaned, instantly perking up and resting on one arm, delightfully exposing her splendid ivory tits sloping towards the mattress, exhibiting their pleasing firmness to my wife's discerning eye.

"He says he's staying the night at Brian Winthrop's house. Sounds like Brian's parents are gone, and they're having an impromptu party. He's going to crash there," Emma informed her friend, adding suggestively. "It's a shame Tim didn't go with them. Now, he'll be home alone."

"Yeah, that's a shame," the pensive mother murmured, a distance edging her voice, ostensibly about her son's misfortune but in truth disappointed about the missed chance for the penetration she truly wanted, satisfying the nagging itch in her pussy.

"You're welcome to stay here, Anja, I'm sure Tim will be fine on his own. He is an adult now, after all. Believe me, I can vouch for that," my cunning wife offered, reiterating that the disappointed matron's son was home alone.

"Oh, that's nice of you. It's just, um, that was wonderful and all, what we did, but I, well, I was hoping to get that special something a man provides. You understand?" Anja said uncertainly, stuttering her true need but not comfortable about how to express it and treading gingerly to not hurt her friend's feelings.

"You mean, penetration? The kind best provided by a big, hard cock?" Emma replied candidly, a playful smirk and a knowing stroke across the downy curls covering her friend's pussy emphasizing the point.

"Well, yes, that," the busted black-haired beauty conceded, rolling her eyes slyly and then going quiet for a moment to consider her next question.

"Emma, I know sometimes when women, um, get together, they use certain 'insertable' devices. You know, a strap-on," she posited tentatively. "You wouldn't have anything like that, would you?"

"Why, Anja Bradley, are you asking me to fuck you?" my wife guffawed, teasing the bashful wife, and again finding the woman's growing dependence on Kellen's inspiring manhood working to her benefit.

"Oh, I, um, was, well, just wondering," Anja stammered, flustered by the embarrassing charge but understanding the possibility had an appeal she'd never thought about before tonight's breakthrough events.

"Sorry to disappoint you, dear, but I don't, although it sounds like maybe I need to do some online shopping," Emma lied, noting the desire, and promising to rectify the situation, thinking fucking Anja doggy-style might be fun.

Of course, my constantly surprising wife hid the truth, as Emma did own a sturdy strap-on belt with a selection of vibrating dildos and realistic cocks in varying shapes and sizes, acquired at Hank's directive and used more than once on Kerri, Betsy, and a few of the other women my boss required she entertain for the benefit of Allenby Consolidation.

Indeed, a particular favorite was a life-like 12" black cock with a big set of fake balls the ladies referred to appreciatively as 'Goliath.'

The hard rubber beast would undoubtedly serve Mrs. Bradley's need well, but Emma had a task to complete, insightfully understanding that Anja's reliance on Kellen's trusty shaft left the abandoned wife vulnerable to her agenda and successfully accomplishing her current, and hopefully last, depraved assignment by Hank.

Emma didn't want to spoil the opportunity by satisfying the deprived housewife's craving, feigning an inability to grant the needed relief, and thereby incentivizing Anja to go home and discover whatever corrupt route she chose to release her dire need for cock.

It was a difficult proposition, given the faltering mother's inherent modesty and sense of propriety, not to mention my wife's sincere desire to put Anja to task on the business end of Goliath in a warped manifestation of the demented corruption of her mind under Hank's weal.

Certainly, Emma had broken down many of Anja's moral barriers already, but this was the most extreme yet, and she decided it was time for some truth telling, hoping to remove any remaining constraints of societal opprobrium and open the gateway to a truly deviant relationship.

"Anja, we've just shared so much, and we're closer now than ever before. I feel I can trust you and tell you a secret few know and few need to know," she started, discomfited herself, and couching her words carefully minimizing the outrageousness of the revelation she was about to impart.

"I appreciate that, Emma, but what do mean?" Anja asked, suddenly concerned.

"If I tell you, you need to promise to keep it between us. I mean it. I'm dead serious," Emma warned sternly, making it clear she meant every word.

"Oh, of course, I'd never betray your trust, Emma," Anja responded sincerely, struck by the genuineness of her friend's request and beyond curious to know the nature of the disclosure.

"I know you won't, sweetie. I just needed to say it to be certain you understand," my wife said agreeably, feeling her own self-assurance grow, then drawing a deep breath.

"Do you remember that Saturday night and how shocked you were when I showed my tits to Kellen?" she said, setting out her sordid tale.

"Yes, I was a bit stunned, I have to say," the rapt mother admitted.

"Well, I said he'd seen them before, by accident, but that's not true. It was no accident, and he's done much more than simply see them," Emma revealed intriguingly.

"What do you mean?" Anja gulped, unsure of the implications but clearly wanting to know more.

"Okay, as you're now aware, my son is a vital young man. Constantly horny and in need of release. He was constantly checking me out, surreptitiously eyeballing my chest, but in a poorly hidden way to an experienced eye," my wife continued her lurid tale.

"Yeah, I think you mentioned that," her interested lover acknowledged as nothing she didn't already know, yet.

"He was overly affectionate, giving me long hugs, brushing against my body, or 'accidentally' rubbing up next me in the kitchen," Emma said, her fingers in air quotes expressing her doubts about the accidental nature of the contact.

"Oh my, pretty clumsy, huh?" Anja surmised, hanging on every word, which didn't go unnoticed by my astute wife.

"Yeah, I'd say. One time, he pressed up against my backside reaching above me for a plate on the upper shelf," Emma fabricated, embellishing her story knowing Anja was completely involved.

"Anja, I felt his hard-on against bottom. Can you imagine?" she cleverly detailed, realizing Anja was very familiar with the size of Kellen's erect cock, and sensing the enamored woman figuratively felt the indecent act in her mind.

"Jeez, Emma, I had no idea," the astounded mother sympathized, grateful Tim never pulled such a trick, but rethinking for the way her son looked at her on occasion and reconsidering whether it was improper.

"Anyway, I guess I reached the breaking point. Ray was gone that week and well, how shall I say it? I gave Kellen what he wanted, letting him become 'familiar' with my breasts," Emma elaborated earnestly with half-truths necessary to create the fiction, avoiding the story of her own and our family's downfall to Hank Allenby.

"Oh, Emma, I can't believe what I'm hearing," Anja exclaimed breathlessly, but with an underlying tension in her voice.

"Stupidly, I hoped letting him feel me up might placate his need, but it only fed his desire, and even normalized the situation," Emma explained deceptively.

"The very next day, he intentionally let me catch him jerking off in his room, leaving the door cracked and not stifling his moans. He even called 'oh mom' as he came with me looking on from the doorway," she described, now lying outright but gradually working up to the current state of things for the benefit of Anja's sensibilities.

Anja was silent, uncertain how to respond, but her exhilaration was palpable as Emma weaved her unimaginable fib.

"Looking back on it, I suppose it was just a matter of time. He was so persistent in telegraphing his lust. So aggressive in conveying his desire. He's my only son and I care about him so much, so finally, I surrendered to his awkward advances," my conniving wife confided soberly.

Dumbfounded but transfixed, the flummoxed nude mother's jaw dropped, but Emma noticed Anja's nipples contract tightly at the same time, and knew she was hooked more than mortified.

"Now, we have an 'unconventional' relationship mothers and sons don't usually share," she divulged, dipping her head in genuine shame but also for effect.

"Are you saying, um, that you've, uh, been together?" Anja probed, daring to ask the impossible but dearly needing to know if her taboo thoughts were correct.

"Yes, Anja, and I'll state it more succinctly than that so you can be certain of what I'm telling you. We've slept together, I mean, been intimate," Emma confessed the forbidden coupling.

"Ohhh, my goodness," the stunned mother gasped, emotionally bamboozled by the depraved revelation.

"I know, sweetie, but it's true. Kellen and I have fucked, and I need to tell you what you already know. He's good. Honestly, he rocks my world, and gives me what I need from a man in a powerful way Ray can't match," my wife stated frankly, no longer mincing words or coddling her friend, while disparaging me, and not protecting Anja from the truth.

"I, uh, I can't, oh, that's shocking! I'm sorry, but it is," Anja yawped incredulously, recoiling at the news but remarkably non-judgmental of her friend, simply flabbergasted.

"Believe me, I know. I have a difficult time believing it myself," Emma admitted in the most truthful statement she'd made. "I'm a traditional woman like yourself, Anja. Truly. I never thought it possible, but I also had needs much as you do now."

"Yes, but, um, you have Tim," the stricken mother replied, understanding but not fully accepting her confounding friend's reason justifying her egregious sin.

"I do now but didn't then. Ray was on a trip, and I needed someone - someone I cared about, not just an anonymous pick-up at a bar," Emma confessed cautiously, sensing the conversation going okay by the fact Anja wasn't screaming with abhorrence.

"So, you and Kellen, are you still, um, doing it?" Anja inquired, perhaps with just a hint of jealousy.

"Well, yes, and no, at least, not since he's been with you," Emma dissembled some more, assuaging Anja's raw emotions with the lie. "I meant what I said about you doing me a favor. He was all over me and you provided him an outlet."

"Kellen's a good guy and all, I'll grant you that, but I'm struggling to wrap my head around this news," Anja advised simply. "I'm doing the best I can to not think its perverted."

"It is perverted, but try not to judge me, or him. You know the feeling of abandonment and need, and it helped me tremendously," my wife accepted, rationalizing the incestuous relationship making it tolerable to Anja's reeling mind.

"Yeah, I guess I understand it from that point of view. Does Ray know?" the befuddled mother asked in a signal she was slowly adjusting to the bizarre revelation.

"Remember, dear, Ray's a voyeur and a cuckold. He wasn't happy at first, but he knows. He's even watched us once or twice. Apparently, seeing his son boning his wife gets him off," Emma explained, understating the number of times I'd witnessed Kellen screw his mother, or she on her knees giving him a blowjob.

Fearful she was pushing too far for Anja to cope, my artful wife switched the subject to another pressing matter, all intended to feed her subversion of our kindly neighbor.

"Anja, I'm concerned you're too, how should I say it, obsessed with my son," Emma charged boldly, but without anger. "We talked about this a few weeks ago before you started seeing him. It's about sex, dear, so don't fall in love with Kellen. He's too young and the goal is to educate him while satisfying your own needs too."

Anja paused meaningfully with the accusation, understanding its veracity, but unclear what to do about it, other than the unthinkable decision to put an end to the affair. She simply couldn't do that and return to her boring, uneventful life as demure, unassuming Mrs. Frank Bradley, modest wife, and mother of Tim.

"I'm sorry, Emma, I know you're right. Kel's just so good in bed, and his cock, well, I guess you know more about that than I realized," Anja apologized profusely, respecting Emma's eccentricity more easily than she might have expected.

"You need another option, Anja. Someone close to you that won't blab and destroy your reputation and standing," my wife unmistakably declared, practically smacking the obtuse woman upside of the head with her meaning.

"I know, but how is that possible? I mean, who fits the bill? Brian Winthrop?" she questioned, thinking of the burly running mate of Tim and Kellen, and as yet unable to fathom Emma's true intent.

"Well, I'm sure the guys have a number of friends that would happily bang pretty Mrs. Bradley, but there is someone closer to home who would never betray you," Emma stated steadfastly, not sure how to make her point more obvious other than coming right out and saying his name.

"Oh my god! Do you mean, Tim?" Anja exclaimed, now thoroughly bewildered but fortunately not ripping into my wife for even suggesting such a depraved idea, instead dementedly contemplating the irrational prospect and what it entailed.

"Why not? He's close to home, you love him, and he's well-equipped. I can speak to that," Emma confirmed plainly, speaking the dangerous truth, and no longer holding back.

"Oh no, I couldn't. That's too much. He'd be appalled and hate me. I'd drive away my only son," Anja protested anxiously, horrified and titillated at the same time by the very notion.

"I doubt it, Anja. Kellen doesn't hate me, although it him a moment to mentally adjust to the fact I gave in and fulfilled his wildest fantasy," my wife proposed, doing her best convincing her friend of the unthinkable idea and unwilling to back down, even if all she accomplished tonight was planting the seed in Anja's head.