Note: This is a sequel to Traci and Jim. You may, or may not, want to read that first for background. And, no, this is not just a shameless plug to try to get you to read my stuff. But how would you feel if somebody on the street stopped you and asked how you liked Traci and Jim and you hadn’t read it? Huh? It could happen.

My first encounter with my brother Jim on Christmas Eve…and the following morning…opened my mind to a whole new world. The ecstasy we felt helped convince me that even if what we did was not right, it was at least what we both wanted. The next few days of our Christmas break from college were spent exploring new ways to please each other and tease each other.

I was suspicious of my parents—suspicious of what they knew or what they suspected was going on. Jim and I were very discreet, never displaying our affection outside of our locked bedrooms. So I felt somewhat comfortable, but that nagging suspicion was always there.

As New Year’s Eve approached, I deliberated for extended periods of time on how to celebrate with Jim. I asked him if he wanted to go to a club and he declined. I asked him if he wanted to spend the evening alone and he declined. Finally, frustration set in and I went into pout mode.

It became evident that the entire family’s intent was to spend the evening at home watching a video and TV shows. If it hadn’t been for the promise of good food, I may have found any excuse to get out of it.

So there we sat on a Wednesday night waiting interminably for midnight.

My parents were in their early forties and average in every way. They never went out much and never seemed to do much with friends. I always thought my Mom was very pretty. Not just in the way most daughters think their Moms are pretty, but because she was. She exercised a lot and had a great body. I often wondered why she didn’t have more friends, especially guys at work that wanted to be around her.

We were just a pretty boring family I suppose.

And that’s the way it was this New Year’s Eve. My father was already beginning to snore on the couch by 10 p.m. The rest of us occasionally wandered around the house finding food or playing on the computer. What little conversation their was centered around the movie or shows we watched.

Finally, midnight came and we watched as the ball dropped and a new year began. I kissed my Mom and Jim, wanting desperately to show him my appreciation for his love. But that would wait until later.

As Dad slept away, the three of us found ourselves in separate rooms again by 12:15. Or so I thought.

I finished writing a few e-mails to friends and strolled back into the family room. Except for Dad, who was becoming no more than a part of the couch in my mind, nobody was around. I checked the kitchen. It was empty.

I walked upstairs to use the bathroom and heard nothing the whole time I was in there. Becoming not so much frightened as curious, I quietly stepped down the hall to Jim’s room.

I turned the doorknob in slow motion, as I had several times in the past week to visit my brother at night. There was barely enough light to make out shapes in the room. I stuck my head in and prepared to call out Jim’s name.

I heard them first. Then I saw them.

My brother—naked—was facing the wall. I could make out the curves of his beautiful ass. It was moving.

In front of Jim was a woman, also facing the wall. She was naked. When I realized it was Mom, my heart stopped.

Her hands pressed flat against the wall as her ass pointed back towards Jim. I saw her breasts hanging below her. And I could barely make out Jim’s long, thick cock entering her pussy and pulling back out in rapid succession.

I remember thinking she was beautiful. And he was beautiful. And I wanted to die.

Sweat poured from my hand onto the doorknob. But I couldn’t let go. I couldn’t back away from the door.

I watched as my brother fucked my Mom from behind like they had been doing it their entire lives. Jim grabbed her by the waist and thrust himself harder and deeper into her. Their moans filled the room, but wouldn’t have been audible from anywhere else in the house.

The extremely erotic scene in front of me now influenced my breathing, already affected by the initial discovery. My throat was dry and I licked my lips. I felt the same way as I did when Jim put his mouth around my nipple and I wrapped my legs around his waist. I was getting very horny.

I saw my Mom reach between her legs, but Jim’s body blocked my view. Soon, Mom reached behind Jim and pulled him closer by the ass. They were nearly pressed flat against the wall, the taller man bending slightly to force himself up into his mother.

Jim put a hand firmly around Mom’s breast and I heard her mutter something I couldn’t make out. What followed needed no explanation.

I watched my mother’s body go tense, followed by a release that could only have been an orgasm. She bent at the waist and shoved her ass back toward Jim. Her hands were fists against the wall. Then they were flat again, helping to absorb the pounding her body was taking.

I could hear and sense her elongated orgasm. I could almost feel it. I knew what that cock felt like inside my cunt. I knew how her body was exploding inside.

Then Jim came. He grunted like he always did, then hammered into Mom’s pussy. Their bodies met with not-so-delicate slaps. Mom’s head fell backward as she finished her own orgasm and felt her son fill her pussy with his warm cum.

Jim entered her over and over, each time pushing her toward the wall…each time spurting another load of cum inside her.

And finally he was done, too.

The two of them stood together, squeezed flat on the wall like an extension of the wallpaper. Jim’s head was tilted sideways on top of Mom’s flowing blonde hair. His hands followed the curves of her body.

I felt a knot in my stomach. So many emotions flowed through me I couldn’t possibly sort them out.

I backed up and pulled the door shut, gradually letting the doorknob turn into place. I wanted to run, but quietly tip toed to my room.

Once safely inside, I threw myself on the bed and lay on my back staring blankly at the ceiling. The scene replayed itself over and over in my mind. I saw Jim’s ass and his cock and Mom’s pussy and her breasts and I heard them and I watched them and I felt the knot in my stomach again.

I was mad. I was surprised. I was disappointed. I was horny.

Fifteen minutes later my hand was on my clit, rubbing furiously as my mind continually repeated the same picture. I felt Jim’s cock inside me. I came. And I kept rubbing until I came again. And then I slept.

In the shower the next morning I came to the conclusion something had to be done. Jim had cheated. He was the guilty party here. Punishment was the only remaining question.

If relationships were involved—his and mine, his and Mom’s—then what better punishment could there be than the age-old technique of driving a wedge between the relationship you don’t want to see continue? OK. So it was a simplistic, juvenile way of viewing things. But try spurning a young woman some time and see what happens.

New Year’s Day began as usual. The entire family managed to meet for breakfast and conversations were held as if nothing had ever occurred. I watched, without success, for outward signs of unusual behavior by Jim or Mom. I very much wanted to see the signs, thus justifying the actions I was determined to take. But not seeing the signs didn’t deter me. If anything, it made me angrier.

At no point did I manage to comprehend the irony in the whole situation. The same fears I had of my parents suspecting something with Jim and I may very well have been floating through the heads of my brother and my mother. Had my parents ever secretly seen or heard us together and chose never to say anything? Was this whole room smothered in unproclaimed affairs?

I began to feel as if I had been placed in a movie with characters I didn’t know. And who was I?

Luck was on my side that day. Jim and my Dad decided to watch football games in the afternoon at a local sports bar. That would give me all day alone with my Mom. I wasn’t exactly sure how it would happen, but I knew something dramatic would take place and it would change my life one way or the other.

After the guys left and Mom started into her annual ritual of packing up the Christmas decorations, I changed into an extra large football jersey. No bra. No panties. Just a jersey that fell to mid-thigh.

I went back downstairs and helped Mom for a while, making sure to show as much skin as I could. This was partly to get a reaction from Mom, but more to help me build up some courage to carry my plan through to the end. After about an hour of packing and moving boxes, I was feeling pretty comfortable in my skimpy outfit.

It was time to act.

Mom was in the first floor hallway, just outside her bedroom taking stuff off the wall. I walked up behind her and put my arms around her waist. Her jeans felt rough against my bare legs.

“Let’s take a short break,” I said softly.

She had put her hands on mine, which pressed her t-shirt against her stomach. “Well, OK.”

Mom turned her head slightly to look behind her. I smiled and kissed her ear. When I felt her begin to move, I slid my right hand down to the waistband of her jeans. She stopped and, in an instant, my hand was in her pants.

I saw her mouth open, but by then my hand had found the bottom of her t-shirt and the front of her panties.

“Traci…” she began to say.

“Shhh.” I hissed the sound through her blonde hair into her ear.

My hand was deep inside her jeans, following the folds of her skin underneath the panties to the warmth between her legs. I pushed in until the fabric started to stretch inside her. Then I pulled my fingers back up over her clit, clutched the bottom of her shirt and yanked it out of the jeans.

I didn’t know what to expect, but I guess I expected the worst. To my delight, I was able to use both hands to pull the shirt completely clear of her jeans. Quickly, I slid my hands inside the shirt and up to the bottom of her breasts.

I wanted badly to ask her if this was how Jim would treat her. But I didn’t. I put my hands on top of my Mom’s bra instead.

“Traci, I…we shouldn’t…” Mom stammered.

I lifted her t-shirt to her arms. Without hesitation, she raised her arms and I took her shirt off. With each passing second I was becoming more and more aroused. I prayed she would not stop me.

My confidence rose greatly when I unhooked her bra without protest. For some reason, I then said to her, “Take it off, Mom.”

I could have done it. But watching her do it…voluntarily…confirmed something for me. I wasn’t sure what, yet. But it did.

I looked at my Mom’s bare back as the bra joined the t-shirt on the floor. Her back was smooth and tight and enticing. I ran my fingers over it from her shoulders to her jeans and around her waist.

Eventually, I worked my way up to her breasts. What started out as an attempt to get back at my brother was becoming much more. I wanted to feel them, to taste them. Partly for my own satisfaction and partly to make my mother happy.

My hands engulfed them and I felt her hard nipples touching my palms. Unconsciously, I pressed my body into hers. My pussy rubbed against her ass and we both responded.

I had a nipple between my fingers when Mom started to turn around. I didn’t stop her this time.

She put her arms around my waist and we kissed. It was so natural. I closed my eyes and for all I knew I was kissing the most gorgeous guy alive. Our mouths opened and our tongues met and there was no turning back.

I pushed Mom until her back hit the wall. The ecstasy I felt—and apparently Mom, too—caused us to bounce back and forth against the wall while our arms wrapped tightly around each other. We moaned between sessions of exploring each other’s mouth and our hands were everywhere.

Before long, Mom managed to get my jersey high enough that her hands could touch my ass. She caressed it for a second before squeezing it roughly. Chills spread through me like never before. It was a wonderful and loving and sensual squeezing that I hoped would never end.

Lost in our kiss, I almost missed the fact Mom was pulling my jersey off. I lifted my arms and soon I was naked.

I couldn’t remember the last time she might have seen me naked. Whenever it was, I was young enough to not care much one way or the other. Now I cared--for different reasons. Yes, I was a little apprehensive about a grown woman…my mother…looking at my mature body. I was a little afraid she wouldn’t find me attractive. But I felt sexy. I cared because I wanted her to want me.

All my cares went away as she passed her fingers over my breasts and down my stomach and onto my hips.

“You’re beautiful,” she said.

If we had stopped, gotten dressed and walked away at that point I would have been happy. When she turned toward her bedroom and said, “In here,” I was ecstatic.

We picked up our clothes and entered my parents’ bedroom. Mom closed the door behind us and locked it.

“Do you want to get on the bed?” she asked.

I nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, my arms folded in front of me. I watched as my Mom took off her jeans. I watched her full breasts sway with her motions. I watched as she pulled off her panties and stood naked in front of me.

No wonder my brother wanted her. She was gorgeous and sexy and just a little nervous. She was everything I wanted to be.

“Lay down,” Mom said. Her tone was assuring. I would have done anything she said at that point.

I lay on my back while my mother climbed onto the bed and straddled my body. I reached up and accepted her as she lowered herself onto me. The feel of her body on mine was indescribable. Our breasts met and instantly seemed to melt together. I opened my legs and she placed herself between them. Our stomachs and hips rubbed together as we hugged each other and began to roll from side to side.

Soon, my legs were wrapped around hers and we kissed passionately. Mom kissed my ears and my neck and my shoulders. All the feelings that preceded this were surpassed when her lips touched my nipple.

She took my left breast in her hand and pushed it up so that more would fit into her waiting mouth. I felt her tongue flick across my nipple and waves of bliss flowed to my pussy. I pulled her head closer to me, moaning with joy.

Mom switched from one breast to the other, covering each one with sucks and kisses and licks. I thought I was going to cum.

Then she moved lower. I felt her mouth move past my navel and between my legs. She kissed my thighs and used her fingers to feel the thin layer of hair around my clit. Never before had I been so glad that I shaved so close.

Just when I thought she was about to attack my clit with her mouth, she moved up my body again. She reached out with one hand and leaned forward. Her breasts hung inches from my face as she grabbed something on the headboard behind me.

Anxious to find out what she was doing, I turned my head just as her hand went the opposite direction. I saw that she held a small, clear bottle. It was tilted and her palm accepted the liquid that flowed from it.

It was baby oil and it was destined for my body. Mom’s hand began at my shoulder and crossed back and forth across my body. When my upper chest was slick with oil, she moved to my breasts. The warmth of her hand and the soothing sensation of the oil caused my nipples to sprout even longer and harder.

Eventually, I was covered down to my navel. Another quick tilt of the bottle and she had enough to spread over my thighs and calves. The last place she touched was my pussy and clit. I shook with desire as she massaged it in.

When Mom was done, she repeated the process with her own body. I watched her body begin to glisten in the light. After she was completely covered, she lay on top of me and slid up and down, ending up with her mouth planted on mine.

Never before had I felt anything as erotic as that. I pulled her by the ass, forcing her to slide some more. We rolled over and I moved every direction I could to feel our bodies together. Our legs grinded against each other’s pussy, sliding back and forth across our clits until we moaned even louder.

I had to cum. I wanted my mother’s mouth on my clit.

When she was on her back, I moved up until my pussy hovered over her lips. She quickly put her hands on my hips and pulled me to her. Seconds later, she was lapping furiously at my cunt and clit.

I sat so that she could put her mouth around my clit and suck on it. I leaned against the headboard and held on tightly because it would only be a matter of seconds before my first orgasm hit.

“Oh, yes. There. Yes,” I cried.

I began to push my pussy into my Mom’s face as if it was the best cock I’d ever had. She tried to maintain contact with my clit as my body shook in a massive orgasm. Each time her tongue hit me I twitched and felt another spasm deep inside my cunt.

It seemed like minutes before I quit cumming. My body ached from the tension the rocked it and the position I had been in. When I allowed myself to stretch out and lay on top of my mother, the relief was fantastic. It was the most satisfied and the most comfortable I ever felt.

I told my Mom I loved her and she said the same to me. I said it as I would to my husband or any other lover who I was totally, emotionally committed to.

My hand moved between her legs and I felt the wetness of her cunt. I realized part of it was oil and part of it was her own warm fluid. My finger found her clit.

“Yes, baby. Do that. Just like that,” Mom whispered to me.

I wanted to taste her, to lick her clit. But I’d do anything she wanted now. So I ran my fingers over her hard clit, massaging it occasionally with my palm.

I felt her body tense up and relax in advance of her orgasm. Every now and then I’d insert a finger into her cunt and she’d lift her ass off the bed to meet my hand. Mom’s breathing became erratic and she clung to me tightly with one arm.

Then she came. She arched her back before starting a series of humping motions, experiencing the same instincts I had of trying to fuck a cock that wasn’t there. But I was intent on doing better than Jim.

I rubbed her clit with long, hard strokes, listening to her cry out with pleasure. I slid down her chest and put a nipple in my mouth. Her orgasm increased in intensity and she pushed my head down onto her until her breast was flattened between my face and her body.

If somebody had touched my clit, I would have cum again without hesitation. It was so erotic to feel my Mom cumming the way she was, knowing that I was bringing her this joy.

When she moved a hand to mine and gently lifted it from her clit, I stopped and rolled next to her. She put both hands over her face for a second before looking over at me. A tear rolled down her cheek.

“Kiss me, baby,” she said.

I climbed back on top of her and we kissed for a long time. This time it was different. It wasn’t a passionate kiss and our hands weren’t searching for places to make each other cum. It was a loving kiss of thanks.

We showered separately, fearful that Jim and Dad would return soon. I almost hated to wash off the oil that had given me to much delight. But I assumed it wouldn’t be the last time we’d experience it.

My life had changed again. That night I began contemplating whether or not it could get better.

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