Making Mom Airtight

Mom chuckled, shaking her head. "Young bodies. Just so you'll know, Dear, at your age some girls orgasm very easily. You may find that this won't always be true."

Then she tossed the wadded-up rubber into a wastebasket, leaned at my groin, and slurped my wang into her mouth.

My eyes and mouth may have set their all-time record for openness.

All three girls had blown me, for a while. But they were probably as new to that as I was.

What the girls did felt really good.

Masturbating with a warm wet washcloth felt even better.

What Mom did made my whole body vibrate.

She replaced her mouth with her hands, and tongued down to my balls. "Let me know if this is a strain," she said. "I'm sure you need to recover." Then she got both balls in her mouth, and rolled them around.

I howled. For a very long time.

"Remember as much of this as you can," she said when her mouth was free, "in case you'd like the girls to do this." Then she got my entire penis in her mouth and bobbed up and down on it.

I was still howling.

Finally she lifted free of me, and got her palms under my butt cheeks. She pushed up, so I arched up my back.

She spread my cheeks and licked my asshole.

That shut me up. I may have gone into shock.

I became aware of water running. I then heard sounds that may have been gargling and spitting.

When she got back from the bathroom, Mom stood me up and walked us to the closet door, and posed us side by side at the full-length mirror. I was still trying to figure out why the intense feeling from her fellatio hadn't actually been an orgasm.

"What's wrong with this picture?" she asked.

"You're, uh, still wearing your bottom?"

"Yep. Would you like to do something about that."

I knelt before her. My hands trembled again as fingers closed on the string around her hips. Then they shook, as I pulled them down.

"Do your lovers shave?" she asked.

"Two of 'em," I droned, staring. Mom was hairless, with bright pink labia rippling below a wide, thrusting clit hood.

"Piercings? Tattoos?"

"Kelly has a navel stud," I said, like I was in a trance. "Brianna has a butterfly tat just above and left of her p-p, uh, her--"

"Pussy," said Mom, "even if she doesn't call it that. That kind of adornment was getting popular when I was their age, but my parents absolutely forbid it. As a grown-up, I lost interest."

She again nudged my shoulders to get me to stand.

"Do you eat their pussies, Burt?"

"Yeah. Uh, but one told me to stop. I think she worried if she was clean."

"I'm not worried about that," she said, guiding us to the bed. "One step at a time. You came from me. Now let's see if I can cum from you."

She took the position I had been in, feet on the floor, back on the bed.

I assumed her earlier position, hoping against hope that I could get her to an orgasm.

"I was so relieved," she murmured, "when I learned that you were having sex. Mmmm, yes, like that, but slower with the tongue. Mmmm. I talked to the girls' mothers, just to make sure. Sorry to pry, Burt, and I won't let word of your sex go further. The fact that you had good, healthy sex for pleasure, with eager partners, was very important to me. I didn't want to be your sex of last resort. When Cliff came out to us, I was relieved, for the same reason. He would have his own sex life, and pursue it his own way. And now, you have yours. Oh, ooohhhh! B-burt, yes YES! Thumbs on the clit, squeeze it into the hood! OhhhOOOHHHH!! Y-yes, they'll hear me, yes, your brother and your father know that you're making your mother cum!"

By this time I was so devoted to giving pleasure to this beautiful, loving woman that I found no creepiness in what she was saying. I think she said it to see if I recoiled. The fact that I didn't showed that she was right. I now had an established sex life as a confident guy who could attract and satisfy women. As loopy as I was from doing this, now, with my mother, I was eager to meet willing women in college, and also hook up again with 'old' fuck-friends before I left, and when home on holidays.

Her trunk writhed and jerked. A little fluid spritzed me. That drove me wild! I made my mother squirt! It tasted, well, weird, but not bad. A lot seemed to collect on my left eye, all the way to the eyebrow. I tongued faster and deeper, surprising her. Her left foot jerked hard into my side ribs. She clutched my hair, nails scratching my scalp, and released a long howl.

In time her breathing quieted. "That's enough for now, thank you so very much," she said dreamily. "I think most women have different ways of cumming from being eaten, just as they do from being screwed. Pay attention during your lovemaking, and do your best to remember what works for your partner." Then she laughed. "And if you have many lovers, especially remember which tasks work for which woman! Otherwise you may have to do some very awkward explaining!"

"I hope I don't have to keep secrets from them, about them." I said, grinning. "The girls I've been with know that others had me. They've been pretty chill about it. To me, at least." Then I got serious. "But I'll always keep your secret."

"Thank you," she said quietly. "People just wouldn't understand."

I am still keeping her secret. No real names, places, or other data are being disclosed here.

She beckoned me. I lay alongside her. We embraced. Our lips and skins found communion. With all that we had done for each other, it was then that I felt we became lovers.

"Oh, Burt, I'm so happy," she said, on the brink of a sob. "I, uh, I don't know if I can say why, now. Maybe later."

Which was all very nice, until the press of her boobs got me horny again.

"We could take one more step," she said, with her playful smile. "The thing you'll do to make me airtight."

"What?" asked the dense eighteen-year-old.

"Fuck my ass. You will then really, truly, be a motherfucker."

"Uhh...ummm...I've never done that."

She patted my face. "It's all right, you don't have to be an expert at it. I just want a prick in there while I blow Cliff and Dad fucks my pussy." She licked her lips, and looked hesitant. "I have, um, some experience with this. From our swinging days. I know that once I'm in a froth, I'll be flexing hard on what's up my ass. I can cum that way. You'll probably like it too, my, um, assfuckers always came."

"Should I really fuck?" I asked. "In and out, over and over?"

She winced. "Not much. Cliff tried that, and I had to make him understand that I wasn't a male bottom on poppers. A hard anal smash, even with loads of lube, only hurts me. Besides, now we're going to be configuring four bodies, and how they move together. I'll probably need you mainly to hold still, and move only when I'm ready for it. With a little in-and-out, and grinding, and butt squeezing."

"So that's all I'm going to do now?"

She reached between our bodies and stroked my latest boner. "We'll do a little more than that. Oh, and now I can assure you, your size is just fine. You're very well equipped to make most women happy. For some, you might be a little too big, but if you're a gentle, caring lover, you'll find ways for them to enjoy your fucking."

"I, uh, never said--"

"But you've thought it," she said with a chuckle. "All men wonder if they're not big enough." She got a wistful look. "I was in many fuckpiles that included physical mismatches of tabs and slots. The people who had the most fun were the ones who weren't selfish, and found ways to make it all work for their partners, as well as themselves."

"Do you miss that?" I asked.

"A little. Until I remember all the downsides. I think I'll be very happy with my new fuckpile."

We each applied a lot of lube, even on my lubricated condom.

She got on all fours on the bed. I knee-stood behind her. Per her guidance, I gently fingered into her anus. Then I added a second finger, both to the second knuckle joint, and slowly moved them in different directions. Gradually, I felt her interior yield.

"Now," she said.

I had my full-sized erection, but it was flexible. Mom had probably expected that my second boner would be like this. I held the condomed shaft firmly in one hand and stretched her left cheek away with the other. Slowly I pushed the glans into her rectum.

She held still, her breath slightly audible, but slow.

I eased in another inch, then stopped, as heat and pressure surrounded me. "How's that?" I croaked.

"Very nice," she murmured. "You can hold there for a moment."

I wanted to ram in all the way and jackhammer her. My breathing got louder than hers, but was also slow.

"My three men," she said. "So different, yet so similar." She looked around, grinning, and winked.

"You mean, I, uh--"

"You'll find out soon enough. Please go in a little bit further, then back and forth, slowly."

I did, never penetrating more than that little bit. Soon I went rigid, and felt close to spasming.

"How much longer?" I groaned.

"Please finger my pussy!" she said urgently.

I got both hands to her soaked vulva. Her back arched suddenly, and her rectum squeezed me hard.

I came, yelling, but forced my stroking and groping to stay at the same pace and extent.

"Yeh-hehesss! YES!" she yelped, her butt pivoting around my dick. "Yes! N-now, please, out, slowly."

Withdrawing slowly allowed me to finish cumming before completing the exit.

We wound up side by side again. She brushed sweaty hair away from my forehead and said, "I think we won't get around to airtight tonight. Are you terribly disappointed?"

I smiled, thoroughly exhausted. "We'll be here all week."

"Oh that's right, you poor baby!" she said, now free to unleash her sense of humor. "You're stranded here! What will poor Brianna, Muriel, and Kelly do without you? Or are they as adept at playing the field as you are?"

"I'm very glad to be here," I said.

"Get dressed," she said. "We need bedrooms where we can sleep."

As we moved through the parlor, I saw that it was empty.

***

In the morning I had reason to believe that I was, indeed, a sound sleeper. When awake, I saw from my phone that it was past eleven a.m. I heard nothing elsewhere in the house.

I dressed for a lake day, swim trunks and a t-shirt. By the time I got to the kitchen I had advanced from shambling to walking.

There was a note on the countertop.

//

You snoozed, but didn't lose. What's left of the egg scramble is in the microwave. You're welcome.

Dad

//

I heated it up, put it on a tray with coffee and juice, and took it all out to the patio.

Mom was sunbathing on a chaise, in the blue bikini I would now cherish forever.

Far in the distance, along the lake shore, I saw Dad and Cliff, flycasting. At their feet were two coolers. I knew that one contained beer, and the other awaited fish.

"How do you feel?" asked Mom, beaming behind her shades.

"Amazing."

"Good," she said, and went back to reading a magazine. I set the tray on the umbrella table, and tucked in.

Cliff had always been Dad's main fishing buddy. I liked fishing too, but not nearly that much. The waiting around for a fish to bite took me to the limit of my patience. The other aspect of this, spending at least as much time tying flies, was something I left to the true anglers in the family.

"No pressure," said Mom, "but I'd like to make plans. What do you think you'll be up for tonight?"

"Whatever you like," I said, thoroughly chill. "With whomever." I was a little less chill about that, but sincere.

"If those guys bring back a huge load of trout, they better take the lead on gutting and cleaning. If you help with that, all I'll have to do is grill them. Then I won't be numb and exhausted after we eat."

"Deal."

Her look seemed to turn flirty. "We're all adults here."

"Uh huh."

"And we're all alone."

"Yeah."

"Wouldn't you like to work on a whole-body tan?"

"Would you?"

"Yes. Problem?"

"None at all."

She stood, and was out of her bikini in maybe five seconds.

She was slathering on sunscreen while I was still paralyzed, gaping. Sunlight and tree shade danced along her delectable contours.

I thought that if I didn't stare at her boobs, I might be less affected. I angled my eyes down, only to see her rib cage curving like tied-back window curtains, giving way to a flat stomach, then a swell below the navel. Barely visible were tiny stretch marks, converging towards the hairless cleft.

I forced my eyes to my juice glass, and gulped from it.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked, hands smearing the lighter expanses of her skin.

My erection assisted in the removal of my swim trunks. My tossed-away shirt knocked over my coffee cup.

She stepped close and offered the sunscreen. "We have to work extra hard on the places the sun has never reached."

Which we did to each other. My work on her breasts went far beyond necessity, or the ability of the creamy glop to form layers. Her work on my dick included several frenulum squeezes, preventing me from adding a different creamy glop.

She laughed, a beautiful, joyful sound. "I'll tell you now what I didn't last night! It's not just that I have three males now. I have three men with awesome bodies, who share a sexy resemblance! Dad and two almost-Dads will send me through the roof! And, and, Cliff is very sweet, really, going along with this, and he does enjoy it, but when he puts on the headset, to me he just doesn't seem as involved. But you want women! And you want me! And, oh boy, do I ever want you!"

She closed in. Her crotch slid along my thigh. Her index fingers teased my butt crack. Her nipples stiffened as she drove them into my chest.

"Here? Now?" I said, almost choking.

"Some different fun for us," she said, gasping. "There's plenty I can talk about now. While you were asleep, I was a good wife and enjoyed doing many things with Dad's morning wood."

I decided that the more I heard about stuff like that, the less it would rattle me.

Mom broke away, and lay on her back on the chaise. "Have you ever had a titfuck?"

"N-n-no," I said. I had hopes with Brianna.

"Straddle me, and then please reach back and finger my pussy. This is a good thing for you to learn without looking."

On the patio, there were no condoms. For this, I guess she didn't care. She merged her mammaries, enclosing my reddening dick. She squeezed hard as she pumped, down-up-down-up, securing my slab. For as long as we needed it, the sunscreen was an adequate lubricant. Her hands pushed in from the sides, allowing me to stare at her exposed nipples.

I got my feet to where I was balanced well enough on the patio pavers when I leaned back. My legs supported all of my weight. My fingers found her cleft to be wet, with more than sunscreen. With one hand I got a little ways inside, with the other I rotated her clit. I felt really clumsy, but soon she was whoofing.

I trembled, savoring the heat from her firm softness. (Is firm softness even a thing?) I strained to keep my eyes open, to capture every second of this POV porn fantasy that somehow became real, and was happening to ME! I kept my hands on task and mostly held still, but leaned to get my balls into partial contact with her udders' undersides.

With a yell, I jetted above her cleavage and splattered her chin. With another yell, her abdomen bucked upward, and my hands felt her slight squirt.

For a while, nothing happened, apart from our lungs summoning lots of air.

I looked around.

Down the shore, I saw two tiny figures. The one with long hair seemed to be looking my way, with a thumbs-up. The one with short hair looked out at the lake.

"Sometimes, Dad and I do it just like that," said Mom happily. "But that's indoors." Then she looked down the shore. "Hmmm...but maybe now..."

***

The lake is creek-fed, and its outlet was about big enough to be considered a river. Very fresh water, supporting lots of aquatic life. Dad and Cliff brought in a catch that could feed all of us for two suppers. I chipped in on the cleaning, as requested, and this left us time in the afternoon for something else that hadn't been done before I turned eighteen.

The whole family skinny-dipped.

Despite a lot of innuendoes, from and to everyone, this was actually done as something like the nudism ideal: Non-sexual pleasure from total body exposure. I was certainly aware of my own genital sensations, and really aware of underwater glimpses of Mom as a tailless mermaid, breasts undulated by the water. But every experience was becoming part of a new normal.

I took in stride what I saw on the other menfolk. Dad was as shaved as Mom. Cliff had most of the main thatch, but his balls were hairless. I felt a little gross, showing pubes that I'd never altered.

Cliff and I egged each other into extremes of young male goofiness. The shallow, near-shore water was cool, but pleasantly so. We knew that the deeper water in the middle of the lake was less forgiving.

This was my idea. "How much can you shrink?" I jeered at Cliff. "Go deep, let's find out!"

"You too," he said, diving away from shore water. Of course I followed, laughing just as raucously.

As we plunged and surfaced, shivering, I said, "Then we'll show Mom what happened to us. She'll take one look, and go back to swinging!"

"Bet I can make mine shrink all the way inside!"

We were also playing chicken, neither willing to be the first to stop. Cliff finally found a way out of the worsening cold, saying, "I'm hungry! I spent hours getting food, including for you, lazy titfucking bastard! Let's show her what we don't have."

We swam back to shore, laughing, and charged out of the water, with scrota as scant as those in Greek sculpture.

Mom and Dad weren't there.

"Oh well," said Cliff with a shrug. He glanced at my back. "Nice ass, Bro." Then he strolled towards the house.

***

I dressed for comfort, and respect for furniture, but I stayed on the patio. The sun eased below the treetops, so no more tanning.

It wasn't too much later that Mom, bib-aproned over her bikini, emerged from the kitchen with a platter of filleted trout. Well, later enough to allow for what she and Dad probably did while her sons were withering their willies.

"Gosh," she said, using tongs to spread the fillets onto the propane grill. "A salad would be really nice with this, but it can't make itself."

Grinning, I reprised my brilliant performance from when I was about thirteen, and some parent or other urged me to take out the recycling bin: An audible sigh, and then "Allll riiiight." Two foghorn tones, the second lower than the first. I added choreography, trudging to the kitchen.

Cliff set the umbrella table for four, gay-shaming himself with mincing decorator flourishes and flounces. Dad lit the tiki torches.

Dinner conversation was about travail in the wider world we had escaped.

As we finished clearing everything, Dad took me aside. "Shave and shower. Parlor, one hour from now."

***

I was in t-shirt and cutoffs when I entered the parlor. Dad and Cliff were starkers. Dad looked at me and said, "Strip."

As I did, Dad knocked on the closed door of the spare bedroom.

From inside I heard Mom's voice. "Please enter."

Dad opened the door and strode in. Cliff followed. I got the drift, and brought up the rear, thinking about what I'd do with Mom's rear.

The room was lit, and scented, by six thick candles on floor stands. Mom awaited us in a knee-length lavender robe that looked to be made of satin.

"Welcome, my lovers," she said, smiling and spreading her hands.

I'd heard a little about cosplay. Didn't know if that's what this was.

Cliff leaned my way and whispered, "Follow our lead, or do what she asks."

The first follow was to finish forming a pizza-slice arc with the others, facing her from about two feet away.