For Dad

"Arthur Taylor, this isn't about you. This is for your father," she said indignantly.

"I'm fully aware of that. That's why I haven't said anything," he replied calmly.

"You're being a selfish little shit!" his mother barked.

"Is that what you think?"

She stood and put her fists on her hips. "That's exactly what I think!" she snapped.

"Fine. Get yourself a new boy."

"Get out!" she ordered.

Art didn't say a word. He packed up what he had brought to the house and left.

It was at dinner when her husband pointed to his crotch then his son's room.

"We can't. Art moved out."

"Why?" he gestured.

"He was being selfish."

"Why?" he repeated.

"He said I was leaving him frustrated after our, our...things," she replied. "I told him if that's the way he felt, he could leave."

Her husband nodded. Then pointed at her, held up his middle finger, then gestured upward. She didn't pick up his meaning and he repeated the gestures again.

"You think I fucked up?" she asked.

He nodded vigorously.

"This wasn't about him. It was about taking care of you."

He nodded his head yes, then shook no. Jack pointed his finger at himself then toward his son's room.

"About both of you?"

He pointed his finger at her then held up two fingers.

"Me too?"

He nodded to her. It was at that moment she realized what he had been trying to tell her before, that Art was getting frustrated. She cried.

"I got angry and told him to get out. You're right. I fucked up. I'm sorry."

Her husband pointed to his mouth and moved his lips like he was talking, then pointed to his son's room.

"You want to talk to him?" she asked.

He shook his head and pointed at his wife.

"You want me to talk to him?"

He nodded and smiled.

Denise went to the kitchen and grabbed her phone then called his number. It went to voice mail after the first ring. She ended the call.

"It only does that when the phone is off, or you decline the call. I think he's ignoring me," she told her husband.

He used the control on the bed to sit up then pointed to the garage.

"I can't leave you here alone. I'll keep trying."

She called about hourly until bedtime with the same result. It went directly to voice mail. Denise left the same message every time.

"Honey, I'm sorry. Please call me."

The following day she continued the calls and messages. Her son didn't return the calls.

On the third day, when the physical therapist was there, Denise drove to her son's apartment. He opened the door on her second knock.

"Why haven't you returned my calls?" she asked harshly.

"Goodbye," he said pushing the door closed.

Denise put her foot in the doorway to stop him.

"I'm sorry. I was wrong," she said, as she began to cry.

He opened the door.

"Come in and sit on the couch. We'll talk. If you start yelling again, I'll toss you right back outside. Understood?"

She nodded then walked quietly to the couch. He handed her a tissue then sat in a chair facing her.

"It was about a month ago when your father tried to tell me you were frustrated. I didn't understand what he was trying to communicate.

"To me, what we did was for your father. That's all I thought about. I'm frustrated too, but I put my needs and wants on the back burner. That's how I am. I put yours there too. That was wrong of me. I had no right to do that.

"You kept your frustration to yourself until I dragged it from you. Then, when you told me how you felt, I blew up. I said things, in anger, that should never have been said. I know you love your father and agreed to this for him. I also know how you gave up your personal life to be there for me. Art, I am sorry for what I said. I'm sorry for not recognizing what I was doing to you."

"Thank you for that. Mom, I love you and dad both, but I can't do this anymore. We'll wind up at each other's throats and it will destroy our relationship. I'm sorry."

"If you can't, I understand. If we change how we do things, is there a chance you would change your mind?"

"Change things how?" he asked.

"I'd like us to sit down with your father and include him in any decisions but figure a way that won't leave you frustrated."

"Mom, that would mean we go farther than we've been going."

"I know, but the end result would be satisfying all three of us."

"You're willing to do that?"

"I'm willing to take it all the way. Please think about it. I need to get home. The physical therapist is supposed to leave in fifteen minutes."

She stood and hugged him, then walked to the door. Before stepping out, she turned to her son.

"Please think about it?" she requested, then walked outside.

Art arrived at the house just before dinner. As they sat together eating, Denise spoke, "Jack, I'd like to share what I've been thinking." Her husband nodded. "I'm happy that we've been able to ease your sexual frustration. In the process, I think we created more problems than we solved. I'm frustrated, and so is Art. You're the only one getting your needs met.

"I'm going to make some suggestions. They aren't demands. If you disagree, you and I will have to look for a different solution on our own.

"Instead of leaving Art and me high and dry. I think we need to step things up. When you're ready to finish, I'll still take care of that, but while I'm doing that, or immediately afterward, Art and I will take care of our needs in whatever way we feel we need. We'll be doing that together."

He smiled and nodded, then motioned for her to come to his left side. She walked to him. He put his hand on his wife's pussy then pointed to his crotch. He followed that up by holding up two fingers. Art laughed.

"I don't understand," she said.

"Mom, he said he wants pussy too," her son clarified.

"Is that what you meant?" she asked.

He nodded and held his thumb up.

Denise smiled. "We can do that." She turned to her son. "Thoughts?" she asked.

"Dad, I suspect my sex drive is a bit higher than yours. I'd like your permission to be with mom on an as needed or wanted basis for either of us."

"Privately," his wife added.

He looked at each in turn, then smiled and gave a thumbs up.

"You're sure you're okay with that," she asked her husband.

He smiled and nodded, then used a finger to cross his heart. She kissed her husband, and they all finished their dinner. Art brought his things back into the house and was watching TV with his father. After cleaning up the kitchen, Denise took a shower and came into the living room in her robe.

"Anything you'd like?" she asked her husband.

He grinned and pointed to his crotch.

"Art, you need to take off your clothes," she told him, dropping her robe.

As he undressed, she pulled off the sheet covering Jack, and straddled his limp cock. She used the control to lower the bed and recline her husband. She motioned for her son to come to her. Once in reach, she leaned forward and licked the head of his cock.

"I'm going to finish it this time," she said smiling, then took him into her mouth.

Her husband watched from about a foot away as she sucked their son. Where before, it had been somewhat mechanical, she was now enjoying what she was doing. Her mouth glided up and down his length. Denise could feel her husband's cock engorging as she worked. When he was nearly hard, she guided him into her pussy. He moaned as he entered her. She began moving on him as she sucked her son.

"Mom, I'm close," her son warned.

She increased her efforts on him to bring him to peak as she continued riding her husband. Jack moaned loudly as he filled her cunt with cum. Denise was flushed and when her son sent his first stream into her mouth she grunted and stiffened as she came with him. She continued moving both ends as she recovered and felt her husband go limp and slip out.

Denise got off the bed and turned her back to her son then bent over. She took her husband's limp cock into her mouth. Art stepped up and slipped his still hard cock into his mother's pussy. She moaned as he filled her with his hard dick.

Art was pounding his mother as she licked and sucked his father. Her grunts and moans spurred him on. He looked at his father who was watching them and grinning. He pointed to his wife's asshole.

Art wet his finger and pushed it gently inside. His mother began bucking immediately, forcing the finger further inside. Her legs began to tremble as she bucked. Art felt his mother's pussy and ass contracting on him as she came. Art didn't slow. He continued with his assault on his mother's pussy and soon filled her with his cum. This time he did go soft and pulled out, leaving the finger still plunging into her ass. He added a second finger, then a third, before she stiffened and came a third time, then collapsed across her husband's lap.

Jack looked at his son and gave him a smiling thumbs up. Denise lay there for several minutes before getting up on shaky legs. She turned to her husband.

"Three times. Did you see that? I came three times," she told him. He smiled and nodded. "Wow! I needed that. I'm going to go shower."

"I'll be wanting dessert when you get back," her son told her.

"I don't think I can anymore," she replied.

"I guess we'll find out when you get back, won't we?" Art asked.

His mother returned about fifteen minutes later. Art had moved his father over to one side of the bed. He helped his mother get on the bed next to him. Her husband was grinning as she did. Art crawled up between his mother's legs and kissed her clit. She jumped at the sensation.

Her son began by licking and teasing the inside of her parted thighs. She was hot and wet before he ever reached her pussy.

"Mom, I'll bet dad would like a little taste," he told her.

Denise put two fingers inside herself then offered the wet fingers to her husband. He happily sucked them into his mouth cleaning them off.

It didn't take long for Denise to flush in a pre-orgasmic red. Her pelvis rocked as her son ministered to her pussy. As she came, Denise grabbed her son's head holding him there then pushing him away as she became too sensitive.

Art moved up and kissed his mother, covering her face in her own juices. She then turned and did the same to her husband.

She lay, contentedly, with her head on her husband's chest.

"We should have done this weeks ago," she said, smiling.

"Yeah, for dad," her son chuckled.

"Exactly," she agreed.