Facets of Love Ch. 05

But absolutely nothing remotely sexual happened. Sure, I woke the next morning with a hand on her boob and a woody in my pants, but that was a natural result of being a human male. My body was preprogrammed to respond that way and, since May didn't take offence, I figured she also understood it was nothing more than a normal reaction.

The sun came out Wednesday afternoon and, by Thursday morning the roads out of town were clear of ice and the power was back online. Not wanting to bother moving her stuff next door for a single night, May slept with me on Thursday night as well and promised she'd move back to her old room when we returned in January.

-

Mary Spencer Jones

December 2018

I was nervous when Robert came home from his December trip to Oklas. Anxious, because of what I had been doing with my mother. Afraid he'd find out.

I was sure Mom wouldn't tell him; it was me I was worried about. With the exception of my brief affair with Casandra, I'd never lied to Robert. And that wasn't a lie. I just never volunteered the truth. If he had suspected something, if he had come out and asked, "Are you and Casandra having sex?" I would've most likely confessed.

Likewise, when we climbed into bed together the night he came home. If he casually asked how I slept without him, I was afraid I'd blurt out something stupid like, "I hardly got any sleep at all. Mom insisted on sucking my boobs dry every night after Robbie went to bed, and then she finger fucked me until I squirted. And if that wasn't bad enough, I did the same to her."

Robert and I were so close emotionally, I sometimes thought he could read my mind, across state lines no less. Last week, when he was in Oklas and I was sleeping with Mom, I sensed a tension in his voice when he called me every night. Yeah, I know he had a bad week, dealing with the ice storm and all, but there was something else. Something he wasn't telling me. And, although there was no way he could have known what Mom and I were doing, I think he might have sensed something. What other excuse could he have for acting peculiar?

-

Absence can make the heart grow fonder, but it can also really screw with your brain. When Robert got home Friday night, all my worries immediately vanished. He didn't ask how I'd slept, he didn't accuse me of licking other women's pussies, and he certainly didn't seem at all distracted.

Once in the house, he peaked into Robbie's room to watch him sleep for a minute and then tore into me like a starving man attacking a T-bone. As always, he started with my boobs. Kissing, licking, and sucking them dry. Mom was right, my body reacted differently to his large lips than they did to his son's. My pussy was already a sopping mess when Robert transitioned from my peaks to my valley. His talented tongue had spent less than a minute teasing my freshly shaved lady lips when I could feel the beginnings of my first coming. And there is no doubt in my mind I would have. Come, that is. All over his face. But I didn't. At least not immediately. Because just before I lost control, he did something he'd never done before.

My hands had a firm grasp on my pillow, my back muscles were beginning to tense up, my butt cheeks were tight enough to make a diamond out of a hunk of charcoal. I was ready for the big event and only needed one last tongue thrust to push me over the edge.

But Robert pulled away. He extracted his tongue from my overheated snatch and repositioned his body to give me a kiss. On the lips. My upper lips. Not a forceful kiss. Just enough to wet my lips ... with my own pussy juices.

When he'd done that, he gently took hold of my lower lip with his teeth and pulled it away from the upper. And then he licked the portion of my lip that was in his mouth, giving him yet another taste of my vagina wine.

The kiss that followed was a full mouthed, tongue twisting, tonsil tickling affair that removed any doubt I would ever have about Robert's love for me. When we were done. After he sucked the breath from my lungs and all suspicion from my heart, he spent several minutes turning my newly emptied nipples into hardened diamonds of desire.

Then did the same thing to my lower lips as he had to my upper variety. He French kissed my pussy. Using his lips, tongue and even his teeth, he found places between my legs that I never knew existed and introduced them to the pleasures of the flesh.

The sexual peak I thought I wanted several minutes before, the nipple-pussy squirting event Mom brought me to earlier in the week, even the powerful orgasm I had the last time Robert came home from Oklas. They were mere tremors compared to what I experienced that night. I came long, hard, and loud. I didn't care who heard it. I didn't care if Robbie woke up or Mom burst into our room, asking who had been maimed. I had just experienced the most fantastic sex of my young life and didn't care if the entire world knew it.

Where the hell did Robert learn to do that and why hasn't he done it before?

All good things must eventually come to an end. After rocking my world, Robert rolled me over onto my tummy, lifted me up onto my hands and knees and slipped his cock into my recently satiated puss.

I'll have to admit that doggy style was not my favorite sex position. I know it's the most natural way to have sex, the position many animals use, and also a favorite of most men. Sure, I like how it makes my pussy feel, but when you have fifteen extra pounds of breast flesh attached to your chest, it quickly gets uncomfortable. Having my tits beat against my tummy and chin for ten minutes is not my idea of fun. But, since Robert had just taken me on the sexual equivalent of the Incredicoaster, I was willing to take one for the team.

Knowing what was coming, I wiggled my ass, flexed my kegels, and did whatever I could to get Robert off before my boobs started to hurt. But they didn't. My tits. They didn't hurt. Because Robert had stuffed a pillow under them and steadied each one in his hands.

He started slow, letting his oversized cock evenly spread my lubricant over the depth of my sex tunnel. And when he quickened his pace, I instinctively reared back against each of his forward thrusts. Not in an effort to get it over with, as had been the case in the past, but to increase the intensity of the experience.

Who knew? When my tits weren't bouncing around like speed bags, doggy style was fun. More than fun, it was fantastic. My chest didn't hurt, my pussy was on fire, and the feeling of being dominated by my man only added to the experience. I came twice before Robert let out a roar the Lion King would have been proud of and gushed into me like a surfacing whale.

'Girl,' my conscience lectured me,' you need to change your ways. You'll never find a more perfect man than the one who's currently holding your boobs like they're more precious than gold.

'You've got to quit screwing your mom.'

-

Dr. Martha Weaver Spencer

I readily admit that I looked forward to the weeks Robert spent in Oklas. I thoroughly enjoyed not having to share Mary with her husband and certainly slept better with a bed partner. But there were a few perks to having my redneck son-in-law in the house. Besides him being able to fix nearly anything that broke in the house, there was really no good substitute for a hard cock. As much as I enjoyed what Mary and I did to each other in the evenings, there are times when a woman needs seven or eight inches of rigid man meat in her hand, or between her legs, or in her mouth, or between her boobs.

Or in her ass.

Sodomy. I normally wouldn't go there. It certainly wasn't my thing, nothing I'd ever done before, and I didn't think Mary would be interested in it either. But the idea came to me during one of my sessions with Peter and Olive. After several tries, they still weren't able to fit his oversized erection into her undersized pussy. They were getting desperate, talking about getting a divorce, even though they loved everything else about each other.

I tried to sympathize with them, put myself in Olive's place and perhaps figure out a way to solve their problem. Unfortunately, I had no personal experience with their plight. I'd only had two peckers in my puss, Frank's and Robert's, and they were both an excellent fit.

The idea came to me during a Sunday afternoon session with Robert. I was on my back with my ankles up around my shoulders and knees spread wide. (I know, pretty impressive for a woman my age. Twice a week yoga kept me limber.) Robert's job was to fuck my pussy from as many different angles he could. Straight down, off to the side, level with the floor... Each angle resulted in his cock stimulating a different part of my vagina, some angles feeling much better than others. We didn't do it to find my favorite spot, this wasn't about me. But when he eventually repeated the drill with Mary, she could tell him which position brought her the most pleasure.

It was another one of my many tried and true techniques to a better sex life. But Peter and Olive weren't even close to that stage of their training. The only reason I bring it up is that, when Robert and I were exploring some of the extreme angles - he was kneeling behind me trying to rub my g-spot with his helmet - he kind of slipped and rammed his cock into my ass. Which refused to yield. Yep, my little puckered hole wouldn't open up for him.

That's when I knew Robert had to butt fuck me. I had to find a way to get his ultrathick erection into my virgin ass. Because, once I did, I could commiserate with what Olive was feeling and find a way to get her husband's telephone pole through her size three vaginal opening.

There was one problem with my plan. I couldn't ask Robert to sodomize me. Everything we did was supposed to benefit Mary. That was our agreement. I was training him to please my daughter, not help my clients. If I told him to stick it up my bum, he'd refuse, saying he'd never do that to Mary. So, I had to make him think it was his idea.

-

Robert Ryan Jones

The Saturday after I came back from Oklas was a great day. Mary woke me up with one of her specialty blow jobs, something she hadn't done for a while. I went for a run, something I hadn't done for a week, and spent the rest of the morning shopping at Home Depot with Robbie, who attracted women from age eighteen to eighty. I enjoyed the attention, but he was more interested in the Christmas light display.

Robbie and I napped together on the back patio using a football game for background noise. Later, Martha babysat while Mary and I went out to dinner together, and we topped off the evening with an extremely satisfying session of pre-nocturnal gymnastics.

Sunday was a different story. As soon as Mary left with Robbie for the grocery store, Martha was looking for new and different ways to use my dick. This particular afternoon was a variation on her previous experiments in which she contorted her body into positions most women half her age couldn't, and had me fuck her from above, below, beside and upside down.

We started with the normal warmups. Kind of like stretching before going for a run. I teased her tits and licked her puss while she stroked and then sucked my cock. Once we got our juices flowing, she got down on all fours and directed me to kneel behind her. Hands on her hips, dick poised for action. Classic doggy, with a twist.

I wasn't allowed to enter her.

"Run your marvelous cock down the length of my slit," she said.

"Plow my furrow but don't go too deep.

"Slow and easy. I want to feel your helmeted head run past my asshole, through my lips, and against my clit. Make sure the length of your erection maintains contact with either my ass or my pussy.

"That's good. Just like that. Now pull it back and do it again.

"I know you want to, but don't go into the well until I tell you.

"Now here's the tricky part. You may not feel it, but my clit just came out of hiding and wants to shake hands with your cock.

"Here," she said taking hold of one of my hands and putting it between her legs. "That little nub is my clit. We've covered this before, but now it's outside of its home and is ready to play.

"And this is what she wants to play with," she said caressing the very edge of my circumcision.

"Run your fold of skin against my exposed clit. Let the two of them dance. Slowly. It's a waltz, not the cha-cha.

"Oh yes. Exactly like that. Tweak my clit with your helmet three of four times, withdraw back to my asshole, and then do it again.

"No penetration, just pure stimulation.

"Feel free to play with my boobs if you must, but just feeling your hands on my hips, your dick on my puss, your head on my clit. That's all a lady needs to get off."

Don't misconstrue what I'm saying. Sex with Martha Spencer was great. Sometimes kinky, often passionate, and always enjoyable. But it was sex. We weren't making love. We weren't building a personal/physical relationship that would last a lifetime. We were screwing each other for the pure animalistic joy of it.

Not that there's anything wrong with recreational fucking but, even at twenty-five, I still had a limit to how many times I could do it a day. Given the choice, I would have much rather depleted my energy on my nineteen-year-old wife, who had just regained her enhanced sexual appetite, than waste a cum or two on my mother-in-law.

Yes, Martha taught me things other men would spend large amounts of money to learn. But at some point, our affair had to come to an end. The sooner the better in my mind. And since Martha gave no indication that she was close to moving on to other men, I decided to start giving her little shoves in the "quit fucking your son-in-law" direction.

As long as I'm at her beck and call, I thought. As long as she's getting exactly what she wants from me, she has no reason to change the status quo. What I need to do is push her limits. Force her to do things she doesn't want to do. Give her a reason to back off from the intimate part of our relationship but still remain a loving mother to my wife and grandma to my son.

With that in mind, once she came with my dick outside of her pussy, I immediately gave her a slap on the ass, shoved my hardened inches deep into her still recovering cunt, and fucked her like a man on a mission.

She screamed bloody murder the first time my hand contacted her bare butt cheek. She screamed again when the next slap made her ass quiver like a June bug running from a bass. She cussed, cried, and cast dispersions on my entire ancestry. But I kept fucking her pussy and slapping her ass, knowing full well that I'd have to apologize big time for "getting carried away".

Fortunately, my inner animal got such a kick out of abusing the poor woman, I came minutes after I began torturing her.

Unfortunately, she came at the same time.

"I don't know where that came from," she said after recovering from her ordeal. "But I'm impressed. Maybe you aren't a wimp after all." She kissed me on the cheek, giving me a wink and a smile. "Mary's going out with some friends Wednesday night. We'll continue our lessons then."

Her hips swayed suggestively as she walked her reddened ass out of the room.

-

That evening, when Mary, Martha, Robbie, Uncle James, and I sat down for our traditional Sunday dinner, I tried my best to put the previous events of the day out of my mind. James was doing the surrogate grandfather thing, bouncing Robbie on his knee, when Mary brought up the subject of her continuing education.

"What do you all think about me starting classes again in January?" she asked the collective group.

"I'm all for it," I said.

"You thinking about going to USF?" James asked, referring to a college in Tampa.

"I was, but they don't offer what I want."

"Ah yes," James said. "The question that has stumped mankind since Eve got Adam kicked out of Eden. "What does a woman want?"

I laughed and Martha gave her brother-in-law an annoyed frown.

"What I want," Mary said, rolling her eyes at her uncle's comment, "is to raise Robbie like a stay-at-home mom but still have a meaningful career."

"And how do you plan to do that, pray tell? Martha asked. "Aren't the two mutually exclusive?"

"Maybe in your day. But things have changed since the 1950's."

This time, Mary was the recipient of Martha's disapproving frown.

"I want to get an accounting degree and do the books for Spencer Manufacturing."

"That's a great idea," James said. "You could do most of your work at home and we could set up a nursery at the plant for when you need to be in the office. Twenty years ago, that's what Frank and I thought Martha would do, not that there's anything wrong with what she's doing now."

"Great idea in theory," Martha said. "But aren't you forgetting something? You don't have an accounting degree and are at least three years away from one. Who's going to take care of Robbie when you're at school? Robert and I both have jobs and, even though the company would probably be better off without James' constant meddling, I sure don't want him raising my grandson."

"I disagree," I said. "James may not know shit about machinery, but I think he'd make an excellent nanny."

James gave me the one finger salute but did it with a smile.

"If you three will be serious for a minute, I'll explain my master plan and, when I'm done, I expect all of you to be amazed at my brilliance.

"I know you have jobs. You work nine to five, Monday through Friday. Sometimes more. That's why I'm going to go to college on the weekends. The University of Florida in Gainesville has a new program that might as well have been designed especially for me. I only take two courses a semester and I only go to class one weekend a month. Yeah, it will be a tough weekend. Two hours of class Friday night, six hours on Saturday and three more Sunday morning. I'll study during the week when Robbie's taking his naps. I know I'll miss him when I'm away but, with Mom and Robert in charge, he'll barely know I'm gone."

"Where will you stay in Gainesville?" Martha asked.

"Casandra, my roommate before Robert, has a cousin who lives less than a mile from the campus. Her name is Gloria Carter. We've already talked, and she's agreed to let me sleep on her couch."

"You've never met her?" I asked.

"No. But Casandra speaks highly of her, and I trust her judgement."

"How much is she charging for this?" James asked.

"Fifty dollars a weekend."

"Hell, I spend that much a day in tips when I go up to DC," James said.

"That's why we need an accountant we can trust," Martha said.

"Does that mean yes?" Mary asked. "I can do it?"

"Definitely," Martha said.

"I don't have a dog in the fight," James said, "but Robbie says it's okay with him as long as his grandpa James plays with him when mommy's gone."

All eyes turned to me.

I was already away from my wife five nights a month; I didn't want to add an additional two. I wasn't comfortable with her living in a strange town with somebody she'd never met. And I shuddered to think what Martha would expect of me when Mary was away. But, looking at her blue eyed, "I can do anything I put my mind to" excitement, there was no way I could say no.

"You're right," I said. "I am amazed by your brilliance."

Mary shrieked in joy as she jumped into my arms and kissed me like I'd just proposed, again.

"I promise to make you proud. I'll study my ass off and make straight A's. Then I'll be the best accountant our company has ever had."

"Don't work too hard," I whispered into her ear. "I like your ass exactly as it is now."