tagIncest/TabooMary/Marcy Pt. 01

Mary/Marcy Pt. 01

by60YONOVICE©

Hi. My name is Michael. I go by Mike (amazingly enough). I live in a medium sized Texas town with my parents.

I played football for my high school for a couple of years. I am 5-11 and 165 and was a wide receiver before a severe concussion sidelined my career. I never really was too athletic after that.

Nor was I a nerd, though I did well enough in my studies and graduated in the top 10% of my class. College was a foregone conclusion as I was already accepted to several schools. I was set to pursue a business degree so I could make enough money when I got out to get away from this town. I loved my parents, but I felt destined for bigger things than I could find here.

Ah, my parents. Edward "Big Ed," and Mary. Big Ed was a boisterous social animal, thriving on attention. He was the guy in the middle of every party telling jokes and guffawing loudly. He was very different around the house. Not abusive in any way. Just withdrawn and uncommunicative.

My mom, Mary, on the other hand, stayed on the sidelines of most social gatherings, quietly conversing with a friend or two. She didn't drink so she was dad's permanent designated driver.

Dad was 6-2 and a bear of a man. He had been a star linebacker at my same high school and played a significant part in the team winning state his senior year. He also was on a college team that won a national championship, though a horrific knee injury had ended his career before the title game. He is the reason I at least tried to play. It was also his idea for me to quit after the concussion. With his own playing days long gone, his weight ballooned to around 300.

Mom was his opposite in many ways. She was maybe 5-2, with a slim body. Her legs were nice, especially when she wore heels which was not often. I had seen her on the rare times she wore swimsuits. She was a MILF, albeit a shy one.

Being a perverted teenage boy, of course I would sneak into their bedroom and dig around in her lingerie drawers. I had figured I would find white plain panties and unremarkable bras. No. She had nothing but sexy, frilly, panties and matching bras. Did Mom have a hidden wild side? Most likely Dad insisted she dress that way. It did intrigue me to know that she was wearing sexy undies.

When she fixed herself up to go out she was very pretty. Seeing her in a little black dress with stockings and high heels with her hair and makeup done and knowing she was wearing her sexy underwear really got to me. But, she was my mom after all. When she wore her usual dowdy house dresses, the image was not as erotic. As the saying goes, she cleans up well.

About a year ago, I started to notice some tension between my folks. Nothing as dramatic as fighting, but there was a difference in their behavior. My jokester dad was not as jovial as usual and when he did repeat a joke he had heard, Mom didn't laugh no matter how truly funny it was. No fighting but definitely tension. When they did go out, Mom's attire was not very attractive as if she was trying not to draw attention.

I was beginning to think they were just waiting for me to leave the house so they could split up. It was a heavy load for an 18 year old son to deal with. I didn't want to bring it up to either of them for fear I might hasten things along. All three of us walked on a lot of eggshells during that time.

A case in point was my 18th birthday party. It was low-key, I only had three friends over. My folks had two couples over themselves. As usual, dad was getting liquored up and telling racy jokes. And as usual, mom was ignoring him.

After everyone had left I was putting up my gifts, I could hear my parents voices coming from their bedroom. Most of their conversation was too low to hear through the wall, but the louder parts were.

My Mom's voice was the first one I could make out.

"I just might do it then."

"Go right ahead, bitch. You know you want to."

I had never heard my dad speak that way to my mother. I started to burst into the bedroom to protect her. However the voices got low again and soon stopped all together. I think she threatened to leave, I was relieved to see her in the morning without any bruises.

After that, things were better, but still not normal.

******

Dad was never one to talk much with me. With all the trouble going on he talked even less. In fact, over the last two months since my birthday I can count on one hand the times he even said 'hi' to me. All vital information came through my mother, and that was mostly in the form of Post-it notes. Things had definitely turned to the worst.

I was expecting one or the other them to move out of the house any day now. So, when the day came that my dad said "we need to talk," I was certain the news would be bad. His demeanor seemed to suggest that something had lifted a weight from his shoulders. I was prepared for the worst.

"Mike, as you have noticed, things have been tense around hear for a long while."

I lowered my eyes and nodded.

"Your mother wanted me to be the one to tell you this..."

"I don't want you to get a divorce! I know I don't have a say in it. I don't want to see you hurt each other!"

He sat there with a puzzled look and then smiled and laughed. Now I was the puzzled one.

"That's not it at all. In fact we are trying to help our marriage."

What? I mean, uhh, that's great."

"Like I said, things have been tense around here, but not for the reasons you may think. In fact, it may be just the opposite. Your Mama and I aren't trying to break up. We are looking make a good thing better."

I didn't know if I believed that or not. Things had not been "good" in quite some time. But if it could be better, then I was all for it.

"I suppose I should get on with it. You know that I have had some health problems in the last 3-4 years. That's when I started, having, having troubles, you know, man troubles."

He could see the glazed look on my face.

"What I'm saying is thatI can't 'perform' in bed. I can't get my dick hard enough to have sex with your mother. There, I said it. I have tried everything from pills to pumps. Nothing has worked to my satisfaction. I'm sure you don't want to hear about our sex life, but here it goes. We were able to get by with toys and oral sex..."

He was correct, I didn't want to hear about that stuff. I started to interrupt him, but he was on a roll.

"But one night, the truth slipped out. She said really missed getting fucked, pardon my language. I tried to let that slide by. But it weighed on me. I had wondered if she missed it. Now it was out in the open. That is why things have been tense. She tried to get me to forget about it, but I couldn't. I started to pester her, asking how and with who she might get some relief. She would get angry. She said she didn't want some stranger drooling all over her. And that's the way things stood until your birthday party."

"That's, that's way too much information. You are talking about my mother! Why are you telling me this?"

"Let me finish, and you will know why."

I fidgeted in my chair. This conversation was getting even more uncomfortable by the minute,

"I was pretty drunk. I don't remember who brought it up, but we realized that you were now of age, and that your equipment probably worked fine. I said at least we could count on you to be clean and discrete. At first she hit the roof. You probably heard that part. When she finally settled down, she saw that it might be a good idea. She was still skeptical, but opened up to the idea,"

I could hear the words but was having some problems with processing them. Was my dad asking me to have sex with his wife, my Mom? Could I do that? Should I? My head was spinning. My body was hearing perfectly — I was getting hard.

"Of course, you can say no. I have a feeling that eventually she would find someone to do it. I mean look at her, any man would be on her in a minute."

"I, I can't. She's my mom."

"She had the same misgivings until we came up with a plan. This is very important: You won't be mother and son. Not for the purpose of this plan anyway. She will be taking an evening class at the YMCA soon. There she will meet a handsome young man less than half her age. They will flirt, and soon will start dating. This young man will take care of her little problem. This way, she can say it was not her son. I know it sounds convoluted but its the only way she will do it. Interested?"

"Wow. You really dropped a big decision on me. If I would be willing to try, you won't decide to kill me?"

"I won't know for sure until it happens. I'm kidding. I do think I can handle it. One way to know for sure."

"And you will not be there, will you?"

"Oh no. You and her go do your thing. If she wants she can tell me about it. You enroll in her class and let's see what happens. I, we, won't pressure you." .

I had some thinking to do. I have to admit it sounded pretty weird, but tempting nonetheless.

*****

I had showed up early to the the Drawing with Charcoal class. I had my blank sketchbook and set of basic charcoal pencils. The other students trickled in, but I was watching for one in particular. I didn't have long to wait. She came in carrying her bag of supplies.

She was dressed in an outfit I had not seen before. A yellow floral print blouse and very tight black jeans that perfectly hugged her ass. Her hair was cut since I had last seen her that morning. She took the space next to me. She was wearing a very different perfume than her usual scent. It was obvious that she had spent time and money preparing for this class.

"May I sit here?" I nodded. "My name is Marcy, and you are?"

'Mark. Please do sit down."

We were sticking to our aliases. Good.

"You are younger than anyone else in here. What brings you to a drawing class?"

"I could say it was to sharpen my art skills, but I was really hoping to meet women."

Marcy blushed a bit. The instructor came in and we didn't have a chance to talk. When class was over, I offered to walk her to her car.

"I just met you, and besides, I'm married."

I persisted and when we got to her car, I surprised her when I leaned in and put my lips on hers. It was nice but as soon as it ended, she was in her car and gone. She was at home when I got home.

"How was your class, dear? Was you and a bunch of older women?"

"Yeah Mom."

"I could have told you that. The class I'm taking is mostly women. Be careful around those cougars. That is what they call older women on the prowl, right?"

"Yep, it's women who pounce on younger guys. From what I've heard, that might not be so bad."

"You're old enough to do as you wish."

The next few classes consisted of drawing still-lifes with bowls of fruit. And after each class I walked 'Marcy' to her car. This always led to making out standing beside the car. Every session the kissing got hotter and she allowed my hands to roam a little more. I had progressed to squeezing her breasts over her clothes and grabbing a double handful of her fine ass. She did draw the line on getting under her clothes.

Once she did invited me into her car and she drove to a secluded area. We had a hot make out session. While she rubbed my cock through my jeans, I slid my hand under her skirt. When my fingers started to move onto her panty covered pussy, she used the married excuse and broke up the session. I was beginning to wonder when or if this plan would work.

The next morning things were the same as always. Mom fixed breakfast in a modest robe.

"Mike, sweetie, how was your class last night. Mine is starting to get very interesting."

We kept the charade up, pretending we attended separate classes.

"Mine is, too. We are starting on anatomy studies. The female anatomy is our next project."

She blushed but kept in character.

"Is my little boy ready for anatomy lessons?"

"Very ready, Mom, very ready!"

"Well maybe you will get to the good stuff soon."

"Maybe we will."

Later in the day, I called her cell using a friend's phone. She answered with a tentative "hello?"

"Marcy, this is Mark. Can you talk?"

"Yes. I'm glad you called. I wanted to apologize for last night. I got scared. I am married you know."

'I think you may have mentioned that once or twice! Don't worry about it. I have something to ask you. How do you feel about going on a real date?"

"I...maybe, what do you have in mind? I'm..."

"Married. I got that. I'm thinking we cut class and get a bite to eat. No harm there, right?"

"I suppose. if that's all."

"I promise." I even went as far as crossing my fingers when I said that.

"Wear something casual. I'm still too young to get into the fancy places."

We decided to meet at a local burger joint. As usual I arrived first. When she appeared I noticed that she did indeed dress casual. She was wearing a grey tank top and a denim miniskirt with black heels. She had pulled her hair back into a ponytail and wore bright red lipstick to match her carefully manicured nails. She looked closer to 21 than her actual 41.

"Marcy, you look fine, you should dress like this more often."

"It does draw attention, doesn't it?

"You certainly got mine. Husband didn't mind you going out like that?"

"I'm beginning to think he doesn't care anymore. He just said 'skirt's a bit short,' and kept on reading his paper. Didn't he wonder why I was wearing a short skirt in the first place?"

"He might have an idea." We both knew the answer. "Marcy, I know it's not my business to get involved in your marriage. But after what we have done so far, and what may do soon, I am already involved. We both know where this is going. We can go to my place."

"Your place?

"While I'm in school, I'm renting a room over a garage from a couple. It's pretty private, and has it's own entrance. The couple I rent from are probably sleeping by now."

I had been busy rearranging our old game room into a room fit for an 18-year-old.

"This I have to see. I mean I would love to see your place."

She was to follow me still pretending she didn't know where I lived. I parked in the driveway and led her to the outside stairs to 'my' room. I let her go up the stairs ahead of me, giving me a great view of her legs under her mini.

After a very short tour, we sat down on the only substantial piece of furniture in the room — a badly outdated sleeper sofa that had spent years in our den. I wondered if my parents had ever had sex on it. If they had, she was certain to see the irony.

"I can't offer you anything alcoholic to drink. Unless I go downstairs and swipe some."

"That's okay, I didn't come here for the hospitality."

"Then why did you come here, you being married and all. You could be home with your husband, making love to him?"

"You know why I'm here. As for my husband, he has been unable to have real sex for some time. If it wasn't for that fact I would be home. I would be fucking him."

For a moment, I thought she had stepped out of character.

"He only knows that I need to feel a hard penis filling me up. I'm sure he knows I would eventually find one. It was his idea for me to take the drawing class to start looking."

"Does this mean you have found one?"

She answered by moving closer to me on the sofa, moving her sexy red lips tantalizingly close to mine. She paused, waiting for my next move. I kissed her, savoring the sensation. She kissed me back with an urgency that I had not noticed in our previous make-out sessions. For one thing, it was the first of our kisses that she moved her tongue into my mouth. As it wrapped around my tongue, I wondered how good Marcy was at sucking cock.

Marcy! I realized that for the first time since we had started this role play I actually convinced myself that this hot woman was not really my mother and that we were on a real date. From that point on, I had no reservations about what we were doing was wrong—she was just another girl needing to be fucked. I hoped that she had had the same epiphany.

I pulled back looking at her face in a new light. Gone was the demure, somewhat plain mother. What I now saw was a hot cougar with her lipstick smeared from kissing her young 'victim.' I decided to take charge.

I looked deeply into her eyes. "Say my name, slut!"

"Mark" There was not the slightest hesitation. She did not even flinch at being called a slut.

"Why is a cheap married slut in my room?

"I want to feel you deep inside me"

"No, you want me to fuck your nasty cunt. Say it!"

"Yes, I want your hard cock to fuck my tight little cunt. It's been too long..."

"I don't want to hear about your sexual history — just your future, like tonight."

"Tonight? I just thought we would make out for awhile."

She might have slipped back to 'mom mode' for a moment

"We are going to make out but with a happy ending this time, no running home to you droopy dick husband."

"Yes Mark, I'm yours for the night."

I could read the sincerity in her face. It was time I fucked my date, 'Marcy.'

I went back to kissing her, slowly working my hand beneath her top and undershirt. At first she try to wriggle away from my roving hand, but I got to my prize anyway. Her left breast felt so smooth and heavy to my touch. She shivered slightly when I got to the nipple. My cock reacted by stiffening. I slid my hand over so I didn't discriminate against the right tit. I just had to see them. I motioned for Marcy to take off the shirts. She pulled the tank top off leaving the undershirt on momentarily. It was sheer and I could clearly see there outlines of her sensitive nipples through the fabric. I had wanted to see these boobs since puberty. And soon I would see them unencumbered for the first time.

"Before I take this off, I have a question."

"Okay, I will try my best to answer. As long as you are not stalling."

"Maybe I am a little. Here it is, the right answer gets to see my tits; Why do you want an older woman like me? Is it a mommy issue? Have you masturbated thinking about her?

She really laid it all out there.

"Sure, what teenaged boy hasn't."

"I realize that but what caused you to think of her specifically instead of all the other women."

"For one I think she is sexy when she dresses up to go out. But the thing that I jacked off to for a long time was when I was about 13 or so. I was home early from school and she didn't know I was there. She was changing in her bedroom with the door open. When I saw her she was in only her bra and panties. I wanted to see if she got naked but I was afraid of getting caught."

"I bet she knew you were there, watching her. She may have been hoping that you would stay and see her get completely naked. See her on her bed, masturbating, and saying your name as she brought herself off. So I'm guessing."

With that, she whisked the shirt off, revealing her breasts for the first time. I was transfixed.

"Come on they are just boobs. You men and your obsession with boobs."

I would have made a speech defending men, but we had no defense. All I could do at that point was latch on to one with my mouth. Marcy seemed to be appeased.

"OH Mark!"

The slightly sweaty flesh was better than any meal. I could have spent most of the night licking and sucking her perky nipples. But there was something even better waiting for me.

I was resting my hand on her naked thigh, feeling the silkiness of the bare flesh below the denim skirt. As I moved my hand slowly up, she shifted her body and opened her legs slightly.

I took that as an invitation to explore higher. Unlike the night in the car, I did not encounter any panties as I reached the top of her legs!

"Oh God," she moaned as two fingers slipped smoothly into the well lubricated opening. I could not wait to feel it around my cock.

"Your fingers feel great, Mark, but I need more, right now."

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