Me, Mom and Mrs. Mahmoud


Then opportunity knocked.


"I can't come with you guys when you go to Atlanta next weekend," I started as we sat eating dinner.

"How come son," Dad asked as he ate.

Every year over Thanksgiving, the Hinesville Swimming Club went to Atlanta for a meet that brought clubs from around the state to the Georgia fall championships. Our whole family had been going together since Sissy had started swimming seriously at age ten. It had become a real family holiday.

I'd always played baseball, Sissy was the swimmer. And she had a roomful of trophies to prove she was the best high school swimmer in Georgia. We'd both been trying to decide that fall what university we should go to, and whether we'd both go to the same one or not.

"We always go Rod," Mom argued. "It may be our last chance to go somewhere together before you two go away to university next year."

I couldn't tell them that I'd just found out that the Mahmoud children were going to New York to visit their grandparents for the holiday, or explain that I'd found out that Mr. Mahmoud was planning a week long business trip to North Carolina.

Didn't tell them I was hoping against hope to somehow seduce our married neighbor.


"It's not fair. I hate you," I heard from the doorway and looking up saw Sissy watching me.

"No you don't," I laughed, "you love me, I'm your favorite brother."

"That's because you're the only one I have."

"I help you with your home work."

"Yeah right," she answered sarcastically, both of us knowing it was I who relied on her for notes and assignments.

We'd been born just eleven months apart, Mom and Dad apparently so happy with my arrival that they got right to work on Sissy. And it had so happened that I missed the cutoff date for starting school by two weeks and Sissy just made it. We'd ended up in the same grade.

Which can be good or can be bad. We could have grown up hating each other, but somehow, maybe due to the summers we'd spent up north when we had to stick together defending the south (and our accents), we had become best friends.

We didn't really hang out at school, and we had enough different classes that we weren't continually falling over each other, but it was impossible not to know what the other was doing. We didn't have many secrets from each other.

"And you're supposed to knock before entering, remember," I reminded her as she stood looking at my near naked body. "I don't have any pants on."

"You got your boxers on...and don't try to change the subject. Why aren't you coming, you always do," she pouted as she sat on the edge of my bed. "I swim faster when you're there, I'll miss you."

"Sissy, it's like I said, I'm busy. Anyway, you always win."

"That's not the point....its probably because of that Arab woman, isn't it?" she accused accurately.

"What are you talking about? What Arab woman?"

"Ha, ha, ha! How many Arab women do you know Roddy? Maybe I should ask Dad if he knows the name of the terrorist woman his son's got a crush on," she teased, knowing she had the upper hand. "How you've become the plaything of some evil..."

"Sissy," I threatened.

"I don't like Sissy anymore, call me by my name."

"What? What are you talking about? Everyone's always called you that."

"I hate it."

"You do? Since when? Why haven't you ever said anything?"

I'm a woman now, I want to be called Rebecca...or Becky if you like."

"Are you serious? Really? " Seeing her nod I went on, "Okay my darling sister Rebecca, that's who you'll be from now on. Now, about Dad..."

"Don't worry; you know I'd never tell on you."

"Because I'm your favorite brother," I teased.

"You know I love you."

"Thanks Becky," I said, and saying it realized I liked the sound of her name, wondered why we'd never used it.

"I might discuss it with mom though," she teased.


"She's sure to know more than me anyway."


"Who do you think you're fooling? ...Bye Rod," she said as she stood to go. "But remember you still owe me one for this weekend. Oh, and brother dear, you look very sexy in your boxers, very, very sexy...I wonder what cousin Joanne would do if she saw you like that? Or Bobbie Anne Gilliam," she said with a smirk as she flounced out.

How the hell does she know about Joanne, I groused to myself.


I called her Becky at dinner the next night to everyone's surprise. "Becky?" Dad asked, "what happened to Sissy."

"Sissy is for little girls Dad," I said in a fake, deep, serious adult voice, "and now that Rebecca has grown into a such a lovely young woman, I think we should put away her childish names. You may not have noticed Dad but Miss Malloy's chest has sprouted quite considerable protrusions."

Mom, trying to stay serious, was giggling behind her hand, and Becky was blushing as Dad, a kidder at heart, gave his daughter the once over. "I believe you're right Rod. Stand up and let me get a good look at ya honey."

"Daddy," Becky cried.

"C'mon, get up girl," Dad ordered

Giving me a quick, venomous look that promised revenge, my blushing sister shyly stood.

Giving a quick whistle Dad announced to the table, "You'll be borrowing your momma's bras soon sweetie."

"Johnny!" Mom warned but couldn't keep the smile out of her voice.

"It's true honey. Rrrebbbeccccca," and he said it slowly, emphasizing her new name, "has a right fine little set of titties on her. What do you think Rod? C'mon here honey, let us get a good look at them."

Ignoring her father and feigning anger, Becky sat. But you couldn't help notice the way she pulled her shoulders back and arched her back, pushing her firm tits even further outward, proud we'd finally noticed that the tomboy was quickly becoming a woman.

Fuck, my sister has nipples, hard, long nipples, I thought as her erect buds pushed against her shirt. I think even both Daddy and Mommy were momentarily surprised.

"Have you sat down with your daughter and explained, you know, about the birds and bees honey?" Dad teasingly asked mom.

"Daddy. Stop it!"

I couldn't help adding my two cents worth and interjected, "it's okay Dad, Ma taught her all about condoms."

"Ya did what," Dad demanded, and then turning to me warned, "And you better bloody well make sure none of your buddies get within condom distance of your sister mister."


Later that night, I was laying in bed, reading, just in a pair of gray, cotton gym shorts, when I heard Becky's knock on our connecting door from the bathroom.

The two of us had the upstairs to ourselves. It was our domain, and it had two large bedrooms separated by a connected bathroom, plus a big playroom/TV room.

"You're mean!" Becky complained as she sat on the edge of my bed, dressed in just a cut-off tank top and short, tight, swimming club shorts.

"Ha, you loved it," I teased. "Showing Daddy and me your little boobies."

"I did not. Take that back!" she yelled as she jumped on me and sat straddling my stomach as she grabbed for my hands.

We wrestled, giggling, much as we'd done since we were little kids, and for minutes I let her have the upper hand before I finally pushed her down and pinned her with my body. She was panting as I held her arms above her head, her breasts rising and falling against my bare chest.

"Say uncle."

"Never," she answered as her body thrashed under me.

Holding both her hands in one of mine I lowered my other hand to her side. Gently slid my fingers across her stomach, tickled, and then slowly moved them upwards.

"Roddddy!" she warned nervously.

"Seeing everyone's talking about them, I figure I might as well take a look," I said grinning, as I slipped a finger under her top and touched the underside of her left breast.

"UNCLE...UNCLE," she yelled.

"Ya sure you don't want me to see them," I leered as she shuffled backward from me on the bed.


"I like the way they jiggle," I teased. "Are you cold," I added as her extraordinary nipples pushed through the thin top.

"What about you?" she demanded after she'd jumped out of the bed and onto the floor. "Something seems to have got someone excited," she said as she stared at the huge bulge in my groin.

"That's not"

"Night Roddy," she said as she flounced through the door, but then turned, and looking me right in the eye, lifted her top and flashed me her tits before turning and going.

Fuck! I dreamed of my sister's body all night. She had the prettiest little set of knockers I'd ever seen. High, firm, pink tipped beauties.


It turned out to be so easy. For all my weeks of planning, for all my harebrained schemes, for all my lusty thoughts, getting into Mrs. Mahmoud's bedroom turned out to be a piece of cake. Or more accurately, a piece of a toy one of her children had left lying on the garage floor.

Mrs. Mahmoud, Miriam, slipped, on a toy her daughter had dropped sometime previously, as she got out of her car after a morning shopping expedition three hours after Mom, Dad and Becky had sped away towards Atlanta.

I was cutting her grass, my mind still awash with a thousand mad ideas, when I saw her sprawl wildly.

"Miriam!" I yelled as I rushed to help her.

"I'm okay," she insisted as she lay tangled on the dirty garage floor, her skirt torn, her coat and blouse stained, her face smudged with oil.

"You're cut, don't move...I'll call a Doctor."

"Don't be silly, I'm okay, just help me up," she said as she held out an arm.

"Aaaahh," she squealed when she put just a little weight on her left foot, collapsing into my arms as her ankle buckled under her.

"It could be broken."

"Just help me into the house Rod. I'm okay....No, no, I didn't mean carry me," she protested when I swept her up in my arms.

"Where?" I asked as I carried her.

"Uh....oh upstairs," she said pointing and I proceeded to carry her to her room and set her gingerly on her bed.

"We have to call a Doctor."

"No! Gamal would never approve."

"You're hurt."

"I'm fine. They're just ankle will be fine... don't worry about me."

"Let me see your ankle," I insisted as I knelt at her feet.

"You shouldn't be here... You're barely dressed," she added, referring to the cut-off jeans I was wearing and the lack of top, my typical lawn cutting wear.

"It's me or the Doctor," I insisted.

"Owwww," she cried when I put her foot in my hands and gently moved her ankle.

"I don't think it's broken."

"It hurts."

"I'll go get some ice," I said rising.

She was sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed, her hajib and coat off and lying beside her, when I returned.

"You'll have to sit back...yes against the headboard, like that," I instructed as I adjusted her body. "Your ankle up, on top of the pillows, like this," I said as I lifted her left foot and gently placed it down and then surrounded it with the ice pack.

"Thank you. I'm fine now," Miriam said with a cold formality, dismissing me.

"Your knee's bleeding, your elbow too, your hands are scratched," I said as I walked into the Mahmoud's ensuite bathroom.

"You don't have to," she said softly when I returned with a two towels and a damp washcloth.

"I don't want you bleeding to death," I grinned as I sat on the bed next to her scraped and bloody knee.

"Your skirts ruined."

"It doesn't matter." She watched my fingers as I lifted the ripped hem of the modest, mid calf length skirt up over her knees. As I gently washed her torn and grease stained skin, she knew that, with her other leg up, I could see the wispy white, silk underwear she wore, could see the dark curls shadowed below.

She spread her knees further apart as I touched her.

I took my time, my movements more caresses than anything else, even let my hand slide halfway up her inner thigh before finally pulling away.

"You're gentle, you could be a doctor," she murmured, her dark eyes never leaving mine as I moved to take her hand.

Her blouse was ripped and blood stained at the elbow, splotched with dirt in the front from her fall to the greasy floor. She didn't protest when I slowly undid the buttons, actually leaned forward to allow me to slip it off her shoulders.

Her bra, a matching piece of white silk hid little, a demi-bra that just covered her nipples, the top of her mahogany areolas clear atop full, lush hills.

"What?" she asked as she saw a momentary grin slide across my lips.

"You sure wear sexy underwear under all those clothes," I said smiling. "I thought Muslims..."

"Just because we wear hajibs and cover ourselves in public doesn't mean we're not sexy young man. The women of Lebanon are famous throughout the world for their beauty...for our ability to please a man," Miriam boasted.

"Please me," I whispered as I pushed down her bra and cupped a breast almost reverentially.

"We can't," she whispered as she drew my head towards hers.

She smelled and tasted of the Middle East, a spicy, intoxicating tang that evoked Harem girls cavorting naked, ready at a moments notice to pleasure their master.

"You're taking advantage of an injured, defenseless girl," she said when our lips finally separated.

"You fell into my trap," I said as my hand moved from one straining nipple to the other.

"I'm dirty, bloody," she complained, even as she sought to grab my lips again.

"You're so beautiful."

"My foot," she groaned as my hand slipped beneath her skirt.

"I'll be gentle," I promised.

"Not too gentle Rod," she ordered, her hand suddenly rubbing my cock through my denim shorts.

I stood; stripped quickly, let her see my huge pole for seconds before I bent back to her.

"You're so big...I don't much bigger than hard," she murmured when her hand found me.

I lifted her, let her wrap her legs around my waist, grabbed her two ass cheeks in my hands, then slowly lowered her hairy, moist slit towards my cockhead.

Her cunt seemed to close like a vise on my shaft once my fat head was inside her. I jiggled her up and down as we stood locked together, each time pushing more and more into her depths.

"Ahhhhhhhhh," she groaned when I was finally completely buried.

I walked her to the wall, pressed her back against the hard surface, thrust again and again, filling her each time her ass slapped into the wall.

Her cut elbow, her injured ankle, her pain were all forgotten as her foreign cries of pleasure echoed through the room.

Her pussy was orgasmicly lubricating me as my thick penis started to buck and flood her with my cum. I held her pinned to the wall for minutes, my sticky shaft still hard and buried in her, damming my ejaculate in her cave. I had a sudden hope that my teenage sperm would put a big American baby in her womb.

"Lover," she murmured, her teeth nibbling my lips.

"Are you sore? Your foot, your arm?" I asked.

"My pussies sore. You stretch me man has ever...Allah sent you to me...again?" she asked excitedly as I started to move my piston in long, deep strokes. "Gamal can't..."

"He's too old for you," I insisted as I slowly built up speed.

Later with my creamy sauce oozing from her cunt, matting her dark, silky pubic pelt, I carried her to her tub where the two of us tenderly washed each other.

"You should rest, sleep...I'll go," I offered when I'd deposited her on her silk sheeted bed.

"No! Stay," she pled. "Lie with me."

That had been a Thursday afternoon. We spent most of the next sixty hours entangled in her bed, continually surprising and exciting and satisfying the other. I became her slave. She became my houri as we coupled in paradise.

She offered me her fingers, her ass, her mouth, her tits, her vagina...she delighted in being coated in my cum.

"You're the man I've always dreamed of," she whispered. "I'm your little harem slave girl."


"I won. Four races. The100 and 200 crawl and the 100 fly and the 100 medley," Becky said breathlessly as she bounded into my room late Sunday night.

"I knew you would. Did you have fun?"

"Yes, Daddy bought me a dress...a late birthday present...said it was to show off my boobies," she laughed. "I met a boy at the closing dance...we"

"You what?" I asked, suddenly interested.

"We kissed. We danced close."

"Thats all?"

"I felt his penis...when we was hard."

"He didn't try to"

"He touched my breasts," Becky said proudly.

"If he did anything to hurt you," I started.

"No. He wanted to. I mean, you know. And he's going to be at swimming camp this summer..." she ended excitedly.

"I may have to go as your bodyguard," I threatened.

"Why do you care? You have all your girlfriends! And so what happened with you? With Miss Terrorist?"

"What do you mean?" I answered blushing.

"C'mon. Talk big brother. So did you two..."

"She's a married woman!"

"That didn't stop you with Joanne."


In the weeks that followed she slowly wormed the story from me.

During the busy Christmas season Miriam and I only found a couple of chances to make love. Quick stolen moments that only temporarily eased my lust.


No one could fool mom for long and one afternoon in late January she called me aside and started in. "She's a married woman."

"What do you..."

"She has two children and a husband; she belongs to a different culture. God Roddy, if her husband ever found out he'd probably have her stoned or have some other bloody barbaric thing done to her."


"You? What about her? Do you ever think of anything besides your prick."



"I'm sorry," I apologized, "but that's bullshit and you know it. Just because you're unhappy don't take it out on me."

"I'm unhappy because of you. Of you and your sister. If I hadn't had you I wouldn't be spending my life in this...." Ma's harangue trailed off as she saw the anger in my eyes.

"Well you won't have to worry much more. We'll be gone soon...then you can do whatever the hell you want," I yelled as I stormed out.


I skipped dinner.

"Roddy?" I heard whispered in my ear, a soft hand shaking my shoulder.

"What? What time is it," I mumbled as I slowly roused.

"It's your mother."

"Ma?" I whispered in the dark. "I'm sorry ma. I didn't mean"

"Shhhhh," she said as she put a finger to my lips and nestled next to me on my bed.

"But I want to say"

"LISTEN," she hissed. As I lay quietly she went on, "Of all the things I've said in my life, and you know I've said some doozies, I've never been ashamed more than I am now."

"It's okay, it was my fault"

"It wasn't! I wouldn't trade anything in the world for the joy you and your sister bring me. I love you two so much it hurts and I'm so, so proud of the man you've become. The day you were born was the happiest day in my life."

We were both crying, mom's face just inches from mine as she talked. "I love you mom," I whispered as I kissed her cheek.

"I was angry, jealous that you no longer need me. Jealous that other women will now be more important to you than me. Mad at that woman. Mad you're sleeping with her. Angry that I'm unhappy all the time."

"Don't be sad, I'll always love you ma," I promised, hugging her to my body.

"It's just you've grown so fast. You'll be away at University next year, Sissy too...Do you love her Roddy?"

"It's just she drives me crazy...I told you the first time I saw her, she's hot...she makes me"

"She's a shameless Jezebel, god, Dad and Uncle Ted were right, we never should have let those terrorists into the country..."

"Ma!" I challenged with a grin.

"Well, she's definitely a little hussy, tempting innocent boys..." she laughed, each of her breaths seeming to caress my face.

I got hard as I held her, as our tears turned to laughs she couldn't help but feel me growing against her stomach, didn't say anything as she continued to hold me tight against her.

Report Story

byscouries© 44 comments/ 366331 views/ 168 favorites

Share the love

Report a Bug

3 Pages:123

Forgot your password?

Please wait

Change picture

Your current user avatar, all sizes:

Default size User Picture  Medium size User Picture  Small size User Picture  Tiny size User Picture

You have a new user avatar waiting for moderation.

Select new user avatar: