tagIncest/TabooIdle Rich

Idle Rich


An Oedipus County Tale

This is a work of fantasy. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental, and the actions contained herein should not be duplicated. It's all pretend, folks.

His friends were going to Florida, but Edward Richmond was going home.

It was the tail end of his senior year at Sorenson Academy, one of many prep schools Ed had attended over the past twelve years, and most of the guys Ed knew were already celebrating their upcoming graduation. It was Tully who decided they were all going to spend spring break in the vacation state, and it was Skip who organized the whole thing and Rodney who volunteered the use of his parents summer home in Key West. And it was Ed who backed out of the trip.

He wasn't a drinker. He didn't like the beach, and though the promise of nubile and scantily clad women running around at one's beck and call was highly tempting, he ultimately decided to skip Florida and just go home.

Ed's spring semester at Sorenson was already stressing him out. He'd been forced to pile on some extra credits to ensure that he graduated on time with all his friends, and the added workload was wearing him down. He knew that he was going to be miserable on spring break no matter where he was, so he figured he might as well save his money -- well, his parent's money, really -- and just spend the week catching up on sleep and tanning by the pool. The rest would do him good, and he knew that, fun as Florida would be, he wouldn't be getting any rest while he was there. Besides, he could goof off all summer. Maybe even go to Europe, like his father had been promising for years.

Of course, spending time at home would be no picnic. Not that home was really "home" for Ed. Aside from holidays and vacations, he'd never spent much time in the house his parents lived in. Nor were his parents particularly excited to see him when he did visit. Richard Richmond was nearing sixty, still spry and avaricious, but also still more concerned with running his financial empire than spending time with his only son. Vague promises of "when you're older" would sometimes be offered, and then Dad would be out the door to play golf with his buddies or fly to Paris or some such nonsense. Blake Richmond, nee Masters, was a good twenty years younger than her husband, a leggy, busty, supermodel trophy wife who had lost none of her beauty during the intervening years of her marriage. She had also never shown much interest in being a "mom." Ed had long ago reached the conclusion that he was some kind of accident for which his mother was slightly embarrassed, evidenced by his lack of siblings and her cool withdrawal from his life.

So a week at home would be something of a trial. Still, Ed reasoned, he was young and rich and life couldn't be all bad, could it?

"Here you go, kid," the cabby said, interrupting Ed's morbid thoughts. Ed looked up, saw the sloping lawn, the huge white face of the Richmond family mansion, the topiary lions guarding the front porch. He stifled a sigh, paid the cabby, and began the long walk up to the front door.

While he was digging in his pocket for the key, the door flung open, and out leapt Amelie, the portly, grandmotherly major domo of the household. "Eddie!" she cried, wrapping him up in an embrace. "I didn't know you were coming home."

"Last minute decision," Ed replied, returning the hug.

"Let me look at you," Amelie said, releasing him. "Ai yi yi, you've grown so tall and handsome. If I was thirty years younger, you'd be in trouble," she said with a laugh.

"I think you'd be the one in trouble," Ed joked, but only half-heartedly.

Amelie's smile began to fade. "Is everything okay, Eddie? You look tired."

"It was a long train ride, Amelie," Ed said.

"Well, then," she said, "go and take a nice nap. I will let your mother know you are home, and then I'll have Salvador whip up something special for dinner. When you're feeling better, you can explain to me why you didn't bother to let any of us know you were coming home." She gave him a light pinch on his cheek for emphasis.

Ed couldn't hide a grin. "Thanks, Amelie. Don't bother telling Mom that I'm home -- I'm just not up to dealing with her at the moment. I suppose Dad isn't around either?"

"He left for Vancouver this morning," she said, frowning. Ed only nodded. He picked up his bags and headed across the threshold into the foyer. Amelie followed, offering to take one of his bags, but Ed shooed her away with a laugh. He climbed the stairs to the second floor, chuckling at the thought that Amelie acted more like his mother than his mother did. By the time he shouldered the door to his room open, he was no longer finding the thought humorous. He dumped his bags on the floor and surveyed his room. It was big, three times the size of his dorm at school, with its own balcony and skylight. Ed crossed to the balcony door and pulled the blinds, letting the mid-afternoon sun into the room. He opened the door and stepped out onto the balcony, taking a deep breath of clean, country air.

Directly below him was the patio, with the barbecue pit where Ed's father occasionally showed off his skill with the grill. Beyond that, the lawn dipped down to the Olympic sized pool that his mother had insisted on installing, after one of her friends at the club bought one. Normally, Ed's eyes would loop around the pool and examine the rest of the property, but he saw something at the poolside that made him pause.

Draped across a chaise lounge was his mother. She was completely naked, save for a sunhat and sunglasses that shaded her facial features from view. On the table beside her sat a Long Island iced tea, Blake's favorite drink, the glass beaded with condensation. His mother might have been asleep or awake, Ed wasn't sure, but she was clearly relaxed and showed no sign of discomfort at her nudity. She was a tall woman with long legs and a lush frame, full of breast and hip, lean of thigh and waist, with a warm golden tan stretching from head to toe. Her breasts were proud, fleshy mountains that rode high on her chest, showing barely a hint of sag, and her taut belly sloped down to a neatly trimmed patch of red hair between her sleek thighs. As Ed watched, barely comprehending, his mother stretched her arms over her head, pushing her breasts into further prominence, and rubbed her feet together.

Ed felt his pants tightening.

Ed heard a low wolf whistle, and with a start, he realized his mother was not alone. A young man with a lean body and a blond mane stood beside the pool wearing a pair of abbreviated orange shorts and holding a skimmer. Pool boy? Ed had never seen him before, but he did know his father used an outside service to maintain the pool. The dude wasn't part of the house's regular staff, then. But what the hell was that guy doing out there with Ed's naked Mom?

Blake raised her head up and pursed her lips in the pool boy's direction. She crooked a finger, beckoning him forward. With an insolent grin, Pool Boy tossed the skimmer on the deck and circled the pool with a swagger. Blake traced a finger along one breast, lightly brushing the nipple with her fingertips, and licked her lips.

Suddenly Ed realized how exposed he was, standing out there on the balcony. He also realized how hard he was, his cock an iron bar between his legs, tenting his pants and making it uncomfortable to stand. Slowly, carefully, cautiously, Ed eased backward into his room. The temptation to see what was happening was too much for him to completely abandon his post, however, and he kept his eyes glued to the lush, nude form of his mother. With trembling fingers he found the zipper of his pants and eased the pressure around his cock.

In the meanwhile, Pool Boy had slipped out of his shorts, exposing his own rampant member. Ed noticed, with a strange sort of pride that made his head hurt, that Pool Boy wasn't quite as well endowed as he was. As Pool Boy dropped to his knees between his mother's thighs and began to kiss and nibble her heated skin, Ed found himself easing his cock out of his shorts and slowly stroking his engorged length. Beads of precum dripped from the angry purple head onto the balcony.

Blake writhed beneath Pool Boy's mouth. Her tits bounced and heaved, hard nipples scraping at the air, her flesh jiggling in all the right places. Her hands gripped the back of Pool Boy's head and thrust his face into her snatch. Her breath came hard and fast, peppered with short, high-pitched cries that sent shivers down Ed's spine. His mother's voice, thick with passion, shaking with lust, carried across the yard.

Ed couldn't think straight, couldn't even form so much as a word in his head. All he could do was watch and masturbate.

Ed's Mom and Pool Boy had shifted. Now Pool Boy stood beside the chaise lounge and Blake kneeled on her haunches upon it. One hand cupped Pool Boy's scrotum and the other gently stroked his member, while her lips kissed and licked the head. Ed's heart stopped when his mother's head descended and her mouth swallowed Pool Boy's cock, her sunhat hiding the full details from view. Ed's own cock jumped in his fist, harder and longer than he had ever been.

Blake sucked Pool Boy for a few minutes longer, then released him, letting Pool Boy's dick bob in the air. Blake twisted her tan, sinuous body around on the chaise, and presented herself on hands and knees to Pool Boy. Her large tits swung beneath her, her sweetly rounded ass rose provocatively. Pool Boy caressed her cheeks with strong hands and moved towards Blake. She gripped his cock from beneath and guided it to her pussy. Pool Boy slid home with a grunt and a slap of flesh that made Blake's ass and tits jiggle. Ed's mother cried out as Pool Boy filled her.

Then they started fucking. Loudly, lewdly, sloppily. Flesh slapped against flesh, both released inflamed groans and cries. Pool Boy leaned across Blake's back and cupped her tits, playing with her nipples. Blake squeezed Pool Boy's balls and humped her ass back at him with amazing speed.

It was over before Ed was ready. Suddenly, Pool Boy pulled out of his mother and slapped his cock against her ass. A jet of pearly white jism sprayed from the tip across her cheeks. Blake twisted again, and for a moment she appeared to be looking straight up at Ed's balcony -- he couldn't be sure if she saw him, with her eyes hooded by the sunglasses, but Ed scrambled back into his room just in case, hoping she had missed him. He missed whatever happened next beside the pool, but his heart was pounding so rapidly and his face was so flushed with fear and embarrassment that he hardly cared.

Ed pulled himself up onto his bed and lay on his back. His cock was still hard and dripping, towering over his belly. His balls ached. Self-consciously, Ed adjusted himself and pulled his pants and underwear down to allow him better access. He wondered, guiltily, whether his mother had seen him for that split second. He hoped she had not. He didn't know what he would do if she had. . . but what if she did? Ed's cock lurched in his hand. He closed his eyes and imagined for a moment that he was him on the deck with his mother, fucking into her heated pussy, cupping her tits, making her cry out in pleasure. With one last sweep of his hand along the length of his cock, Ed finally came. And came. And came. It felt as though a fist were squeezing his balls, forcing out every last drop of semen from his balls. When he finished, the lower part of his shirt was soaked through and sticking to his stomach.

Ed felt a sudden stab of guilt. He quickly undressed, cleaned himself up, and climbed under the covers of his bed to take a nap. But it was a long time before he fell asleep.

He wished he had decided to go to Florida after all.

When he woke, it was dark outside, though the backyard lights sent plenty of illumination into the room through his still open balcony door. Ed closed the door before darting into his bathroom to take a quick shower. While he cleaned up, images of his mother fucking the pool boy kept flashing before his eyes, and he found himself growing hard. Ed shook his head to clear the visions, but it did no good.

He had always considered his mother beautiful. As a child, that had made him very proud. In adolescence, he had noticed the few friends he brought home, or the kids from the neighborhood at the summer place, eyeing his mother with more than a little interest. They'd tell him in conspiratorial whispers that he had a hot mom. Quietly he'd agree, but aloud he'd tell them to shut up. So he had always known she was beautiful, but he'd never really considered her a sexual being. She was remote, quick with a gift or a peck on the cheek, but otherwise he had always thought of her as somewhat cold. Even with his father, his mother seemed distant. He supposed now he knew why.

He also knew he would never be able to dispel the image of his mother on her hands and knees, a stranger's cock ramming into her pussy again and again.

The girls he'd dated, the girls he'd fucked, had been enthusiastic and exciting, but looking back, not one of them had displayed the energy, the pulchritude, or the sheer lust that his mother had that afternoon. It was only natural, he told himself, that he'd fantasize about her now.

When he finished his shower, he was still hard. He stuffed his cock into a pair of shorts, pulled on a t-shirt, and went down to the kitchen. Salvador, Amelie's better half, stood at the stove, frying strips of beef. Sal grinned at Ed's entrance and shot a hand out. Ed took it.

"Good to see you, kid," Sal said. "How's school going?"

Ed shrugged. "It's been a tough semester, Sal. I'm not looking forward to going back." He looked around the kitchen, noting the lettuce, diced tomatoes, onions, sour cream and guacamole laid out across the counter. "Fajitas?"

"Fajitas," Sal agreed. "I figured it appropriate considering you'd be dining tonight. Got the chessboard set up in the study for later, if you're interested."

"You bet I am," Ed said with a laugh. He talked to Sal while Sal cooked, and slowly but surely he began to feel better. Sal was like a favorite uncle, a good friend and a great guy to talk to. He and Amelie had been with the family for as long as Ed could remember, and to Ed, they were family. They were what made this large mansion home.

When Sal decided the meat was cooked, he sent Ed into the dining room. "I'll be right there," he promised.

Ed dropped before one of the two place settings at the dining room table. It wasn't unusual for Sal or Amelie to join him for a meal, and though his father disapproved of it, Ed always welcomed the company. It beat eating alone. So he was a bit surprised when Sal entered the room and simply set the food down. Sal stepped away and said, "If you need anything else, just give a shout."

"Who?" Ed started to ask, but Sal inclined his head towards the other doorway. Ed turned his head and his heart lurched in his chest. It was his mother.

Ed's Mom wore an abbreviated red kimono loosely belted at the waist. The bright color nicely complemented her golden skin, and the robe showed a large expanse of delicious cleavage and sleek thighs. A golden necklace decorated her neck, and she had another golden chain around her left ankle. Her feet were bare, toenails painted the same bright red as her fingernails. Ed forced himself to meet his mother's eyes. Blake's face was just as stunning as the rest of her, graced with high cheekbones, full lips, and finely drawn brows. Dark eyes examined her son coolly, and one copper eyebrow arched as her appraisal met his own. She had trimmed her hair since the last time he saw her, creating a red-gold kind of bob that framed her features perfectly.

She glided across the room and dropped into the chair beside Ed, setting her wineglass on the table. Her perfume followed her, and the flowery scent tickled Ed's nostrils. It was a moment before Ed realized Sal was already gone. He looked around, suddenly anxious and uncomfortable in his mother's presence.

"Hello, Edward," Blake said. "I wish Amelie had let me know you were coming home. I would have prepared a better welcome for you."

"That's okay," Ed managed to squeak out after finding his voice. "No need to make a fuss."

"Mmmm," Blake said, not quite agreeing. She speared a tortilla with her fork and draped it across her plate. Mechanically, Ed mimicked her movements, and for a little while the two worked in silence to build their fajitas. "I know we're not a terribly close-knit family unit," Blake said suddenly, just as Ed was lifting his tortilla to take a bite. He paused as she went on. "But I'm still your mother, and I'd appreciate knowing when you're coming home."

The mild reproach was like a slap in the face. Ed set the fajita back on the plate. "I'll. . . I'll make sure to do that in the future," he said after a long moment.

Blake smiled. "Thank you, dear."

They began to eat, and in between bites, his mother actually asked him questions. Like how he was doing, how school was going, that sort of thing. Ed answered as best he could, unable to meet his mother's eyes as he could not keep from imagining her naked and writhing. It made his pants tight, but he couldn't help it. When her bare foot brushed against his calf -- accidentally? -- under the table, his cock jumped. Ed almost did too.

"Sorry," his mother said. Her foot retreated. "Thought you were the table."

"S'okay," Ed said, clearly flustered.

"So, what do you plan to do all week?" she asked him at last.

Ed shrugged. "I don't really have much in the way of plans," he admitted. "I just want to unwind, maybe sit around the pool and work on my tan."

"Oh?" Blake said with a glint in her eyes. "I've been sunbathing in the nude lately, myself. That isn't going to bother you, is it?" Her question was phrased innocently, but there was something in her expression that put him on his guard. She was watching him, he realized, waiting for him to say or do something. The only reaction Ed could manage was to turn red -- and to have his cock jump wildly in his pants. He could only imagine that his precum was staining the front of his shorts, his dick was so hard. He felt so terribly guilty.

"I hope it doesn't bother you," his Mom continued. "You are eighteen years old, after all, which means we're all adults here. We should all be able to behave in an. . . adult fashion." Her foot brushed his calf again, and this time Ed was certain it was not accidental. Her touch sent an electric current up his leg, straight to his crotch.

"I. . . I. . ." Ed stammered.

"Well," Blake said with a wink, "I'll let you think about it." She picked up her now empty wineglass and stood. The movement caused her breasts to bob within their silken prison, and Ed was certain she wore no bra beneath the kimono. "I'll go freshen my drink."

The door to the kitchen whispered closed and a half-second later, Ed was on his feet. He awkwardly adjusted his painfully engorged cock and made a mad dash for his room, dinner forgotten. He had barely shut his door behind him before grabbing a handful of tissues off his desk and whipping his cock free. It only took two quick strokes to send him over the edge. The force and volume of his ejaculate shredded the tissues, making a mess in his hand. He looked around for the shirt he had ruined earlier in the day, but it wasn't where he had left it. He cleaned his hand as best he could with some more tissues and looked harder for the shirt, but couldn't find it.

What the hell happened to it?

Ed stared into space for about five minutes. "Holy shit," he said at last.

The next morning Ed slept late. When he awoke, he peeked out at the pool and saw no one down there. With a strange feeling of disappointment, he took a quick shower and then went out for a run around the neighborhood. His parents liked living in a gated community. It gave them a feeling of control and removement from society, which was certainly their M.O. Ed didn't quite see the value in it all, but he had to admit it made jogging a lot easier without having to worry about traffic.

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