Mother in the Middle Pt. 02

Becca awoke with a start. She was lying on her side, completely nude, sandwiched between her sons. Michael's arm lay stretched across her waist, his sleeping face resting against her tits. Paul was snuggled up behind her with one leg nudged in between hers.

Outside the bedroom window, the sun was just above the horizon. This time of year, that meant it was well past seven. She'd fallen asleep for the last time somewhere after two o'clock. Stretches of the night were a blur, but some memories stood out as deliciously vivid. This morning her mind was clear. Not for a moment did she entertain the excuse that any of what they'd done together was a dream.

She'd told herself that she'd put off her doubts until tomorrow. "Tomorrow" was today.

Taking care not to wake the guys, she raised herself on one elbow. She was stuck to them in a dozen places by dried semen. The damn stuff was everywhere, plastered across her chest, arms, and face as well as some dribbles between her thighs.

She wasn't sure how many cum showers Paul and Michael had given her. After the first time they'd emptied their balls over her body she'd drifted off to sleep, dozing for less than an hour before Paul woke her by spreading her legs apart and planting his mouth against her cunt. Michael sat up beside her sporting a hard-on as big and stiff as the one he'd been so anxious to drain earlier. Once more, they took turns on her pussy and tits and all the most sensitive parts of her body, rousing her into a sexual frenzy that they relieved only when they saw that she'd reached the end of her tether.

She'd jacked them off again until they'd painted her in more jism from head to toe. Getting them off took longer the second time. Paul seemed especially determined to win some unspoken contest with his mother by holding out as long as humanly possible before unloading onto her back and ass.

The third round took longer still.

They finished off the edibles. Somewhere in the middle of it all, Becca became convinced that her sons were not human at all, that somehow she'd borne two heavy-hung mutants who needed no rest, equipped with cum tanks holding inexhaustible oceans of hot seed.

That had seemed entirely plausible, the fourth time they hosed her down with semen. But then, at last, they were done.

Done for the night, at least. What would they be like when they woke up?

Becca continued trying to extricate herself from the tangle of naked bodies without disturbing her sons. She couldn't move her legs without rubbing against Paul's cock, which stiffened automatically at the friction. Christ, for all of his boasting about control, his dick had a mind of its own. All it needed was a mother's touch to rise like a young tree. And when she put her hand on Michael's hip, hoping to roll him from his side onto his back so that she could get a leg over him and leverage herself onto the floor, the effect was the same--his cock stiffened and grew, poking up against her forearm.

She noticed that the backs of her hands were covered in a cloudy film of dried cum. Without a second thought, she lifted one to her mouth and licked the flaky residue from it. The all-but-forgotten flavor of jism made her insides flutter. If the remnants of Michael's ejaculation had such an effect on her, what would the taste of fresh, warm semen be like?

.Not gonna find out. Not today.

What the three of them had done last night was wrong, very wrong. But she told herself that it wasn't incest. They hadn't penetrated her, so no sex. Okay, that was bullshit, but if she put a stop to this now they could all agree later to blame it on booze and drugs. Whatever was in the bag had been too strong, or it was the wrong kind of whatever it was. Their total loss of inhibitions had been unforeseeable. No one's fault. Certainly not hers.

Such a flimsy rationalization might be a way to back off before they committed a truly unforgivable act. Becca could almost convince herself, but the thorny question remained: did Paul and Michael want to stop?

Did she?

Coffee. Shower first, then coffee.

The coiled muscles of Michael's arm tightened around his mother's waist. He pulled her snugly against his chest and his eyes flickered open.

"Morning, Mom." He smiled drowsily.

"Morning." Becca kissed him chastely on the nose. "You go on back to sleep, honey. I've got to go."

"Where?" The bass rumble of Paul's voice resonated through her rib cage as he pressed himself against her back. "Where you goin'?" His hard, huge cock grazed her pussy. To her alarm, her slit grew moist as the top of his shaft slid along it. He pulled his hips back a few inches, until his glans nestled between her cunt lips. He kissed the nape of her neck. "Lift your leg a little, awright?"

Becca sucked in her breath and held it. If she did as Paul asked, he'd slide his cock right in and start fucking her before she could object.

Panicking, she slapped him on the flank hard enough to hurt her hand.

"Ouch!" When Paul jerked away from her, Becca vaulted over Michael onto the floor.

"I'm gonna shower." She skipped into the bathroom as if nothing about the situation was odd in any way. "Then breakfast. Get cracking, guys."

Alone in the glass stall, she turned the shower up as far as it would go. The hot needles of water on her upturned helped to clear her mind but couldn't rinse away her emotional turmoil. She kept remembering holding her sons' rigid cocks in her hands for the first time. Kissing and being kissed by them...their mouths on her cunt and tits. The torment of being denied orgasm, and her grateful ecstasy when they'd finally relented and let her cum.

Her sons had enjoyed her in any way they'd pleased for hours, always gentle but always firmly leading her as if she had no will of her own.

The most appalling part was how much she'd loved every second of it. The very memory was making her horny again. She had to regret what she'd allowed them to do to her. And she feared what they all might do together if she didn't put a stop to it.

Even so, the sensual possibilities of just letting it all unfold held her spellbound.

No. The consequences of incest were terrible and certain. Becca was sure of it.

That was ages ago. Stay in the present.

She uncapped the body wash and inhaled its fragrance. The bathroom door's hinges squeaked as it opened behind her; the damn lock had needed repair for decades. Tall shadows moved beyond the steamy, reeded glass of the stall. The shower door slid open and her sons squeezed into the tiny space with her.

"Hey! Get out of here! What do you think you're doing?"

"Saving time." Michael took the bottle from his mother and squirted lotion into his hand before giving it to Paul. Rather than scrubbing himself, he smeared the cool, creamy lotion over Becca's shoulders and down her back, working it into a white lather. Paul did the same, except that he went straight for her tits. She clenched her jaw at how good his thick fingers felt, massaging her nipples.

"G-Guys, stop it this instant! Last night was--was a mistake. We're sober now. Nothing like that is ever going to happen again. Understand?"

"Whatever you say, Mom." Michael slid his arms under Becca's and cupped her tit-globes in his big hands while Paul soaped up her stomach. Reaching further down, he drew a slippery finger slowly up the furrow of her cunt until he touched the hooded pearl of her clit.

"Ahhh..." she gasped. Her knees were like water. She sagged back against Michael.

"Got her, bro?"

"Yep." Michael swiped his index fingers across his mother's nipples, which tightened into stiff little pebbles. The marble column of his cock pressed into her back. Paul wedged himself between her soap-slick thighs and wriggled his hips, causing his throbbing prick to glide against her pussy mound. She trembled at the contact of her most sensitive flesh and the hot, steel-in-velvet underside of his massive cock-stalk.

"Yeah, that feels just right," he muttered. "How about you, Mom? You like that?"

"Ungh...No..." she lied through gritted teeth, unthinkingly rocking her pelvis to hump against him. He bent his knees slightly, rolling his cock-knob across her clit. As he straightened up, the length of his cock rubbed over the pleasure-giving little bud until his balls bumped gently against her pussy lips. She whimpered helplessly.

"Think how much better it'll feel going up inside you." Paul kissed his mother on her mouth. "All of it."

"Never gonna..." Becca mumbled weakly. Tingles of arousal raced through her. Michael leaned into her from behind, trapping her against his brother to increase the friction of Paul's cock against her pussy.

"Will, too," Paul continued. "Me and Mike both. Pretty soon you'll be fucking both your sons. You'll--YEOW!"

She'd sunk her teeth into Paul's lower lip. She meant to give him a little nip, to startle him into backing off. But she tasted blood and saw flecks of bright red in his mouth.

"Why'd you do that?"

"Why'd I--why the fuck do you think?" She yanked the shower door open, grabbed her younger son by the arm, and shoved him out. Water puddled on the bathroom floor.

"You hurt me!"

"Good!" She didn't mean it. She felt awful about drawing blood, not that the kid didn't deserve it. "Go on, get out." She shoved Michael after his brother. "The two of you, vamoose."

Heads between their shoulders, Paul and Michael slunk away.

"Shut the bathroom door behind you," she called after them. "Towels are in the linen chest. And get to work on breakfast, I'm starving!"

She shut off the water and slumped against the cold tile wall, shaking uncontrollably at the knowledge that she'd been on the verge of inviting Paul to take her, right then and there.

How did he exert such astonishing power over her? It was true that he'd always possessed a real animal magnetism. All of his life she'd noticed how he attracted the attention of women, be they schoolmates, teachers, or even his doting aunts. She was embarrassed to admit that she'd experienced jealousy and feelings of competition with other women where Paul was concerned.

What about Michael? He was an aggressive young man, strongly motivated albeit cautious by nature. But even he seemed willing to follow Paul's lead in this attempted incestuous seduction. Paul was the instigator here, Becca did not doubt that.

She toweled off and walked back into the bedroom to find Paul lounging buck naked on the bed. He was paging nonchalantly through an old paperback from the bedside shelf, dripping wet, with no towel in sight.

"It's Mike's turn to cook," he said without looking up.

"Jesus Christ, these sheets are soaked through. What's wrong with you?" She sank onto the corner of the bed, staring at her disheveled son.

"Beats me. I blame my parents." He looked directly at her and smiled disarmingly. She couldn't help grinning in return. And there it was again, the stirring, tingling heat between her legs. Damn it.

"Whatever you're waiting for up here, you can forget it," she said, securing her oversized towel around her breasts. It barely reached the tops of her thighs.

"That so?" Paul sucked at his lips. "Still hurts."

"Let me see." Becca scooted up onto the bed, touching the puffy red swelling on his lower lip. Before she knew it, his arm was around her waist. He undid the knot in her towel and tugged it off, tossing it on the floor. His eyes roamed her naked body, his expression an odd mixture of awe and pride-- pride of possession, not so different than the way he'd looked at his first car.

Her son wanted to own her. The prospect was as exciting as it was frightening.

"Paul--"

"Shhh!" His fingers moved down her side and up between her damp legs. His immense, hard cock loomed larger in the light of morning than it had the previous evening. He closed his fist around the stalk and pulled at it. Glistening beads of pre-cum bubbled up from the tip and rolled lazily down the underside of the beefy column.

"You said you were hungry..."

"Uh-uh. You are a sick fuck," Becca pretended revulsion, but her mouth watered. Sucking cock had been a major part of her sexuality from the beginning, and she hadn't had one between her lips in years. Cal had become too alienated. She sucked on her dildo sometimes, trying to fulfill her desire to have something long and thick and hard filling her throat. That practice was less satisfying than a Coke Zero to a sugar junkie. Maybe about as fulfilling as she guessed near-beer would be for a problem drinker. Even a self-warming silicone dick didn't feel like a man's prick and it didn't taste like anything. She'd bought flavored lube for her toy, but a cock didn't taste like peaches or blueberries, and they didn't taste like a cock.

The real problem was that a sex toy couldn't respond to her. It couldn't want her. Paul wanted her to blow him as much as a young man could ever want anything in life.

"You know you want to do it," he said with absolute authority. He took her hand and guided it to his cock. She tenderly folded her slim fingers on it, marveling again at her inability to reach completely around it. A pulsing undulation ran along it, and more clear liquid spurted out as if it were a little fountain. That her merest touch so excited him made her heart swell. She was perspiring despite the cool morning breeze wafting in through the open window.

"I can't. This isn't right," she said as firmly as she could manage. Paul spread his corded thighs wider apart and put his hand on the back of her head, urging her downward. At the same time, he angled his hips up to bring the flared helmet of his prick to within inches of her mouth. Her nostrils filled with his masculine scent, the irresistible aroma of cock.

Paul's hand was heavy on her scalp, but he stopped pushing, sending the clear message that he wouldn't force this. It was her choice and hers alone.

Becca timidly extended her tongue, experimentally licking up a few drops of pre-cum. The shock of sense-memory hit her in her core, and suddenly Paul was not the only one squirting.

"Aww...oh, yeah," she sighed. The taste of her son was like a drug more powerful than anything she'd swallowed the previous night. She pursed her lips and sealed them around his cock-head, not taking the entire knob into her mouth yet, drawing every bit of fluid into her mouth. She rolled it around on her tongue, savoring it, rekindling her long-neglected appetite for jism, and swallowed it all in a small gulp. Then she gingerly licked him in the sensitive spot just beneath the underside of his glans, producing another spurt of nectar from his cum-hole.

"Oh, Mom..." Paul groaned. He balled the sodden bed sheets in his fists, the muscles of his legs coiled like steel springs. Teasing him for a while would be fun. Both of Becca's unruly sons deserved a taste of their own medicine. The very idea of them treating her like some fuck toy, playing with her body like a game console, and making her cum only when they wanted her to! Over and over. Hour after hour.

Well, she'd show them! She'd let Paul think that she was going to suck him until he came, and when she was good and ready she'd just jack him off onto her tits. She'd already done it last night, so she wouldn't be crossing any new lines. Yes, she'd show him who was in charge. Michael, too.

Still, she couldn't help but wonder--if her son's pre-cum was so good, how delicious would his semen be? It was only an idle musing since sucking Paul to completion was out of the question. But rolling his heavy balls in the palm of her hand while his cock stirred and throbbed against her lips, Becca's pussy grew wetter. She moved her other hand along his shaft, pleased by the way she could make it leap and dance. Tightening her fingers around the base gave her a reassuring sense of control. She slid her hand up to the top of his prick and bent it toward her lips again, slowly circling the rim of his glans with her tongue.

"Don't fucking tease me," Paul spat, twining his fingers through her damp red curls and trying to pull her mouth onto his cockhead. "Get on with it. Blow me!"

His frustration revealed the tiniest crack in the façade of his bravado. Becca grinned and stuck out her tongue at him. She bet that he was used to having girls closer to his age do as he demanded, but doubted that he'd been with a woman of her experience. With renewed confidence, she decided that it wouldn't hurt to suck on his cock-knob for a while. She'd show him just how overmatched he was by giving him exactly as much as she chose, which would be a lot less than he hoped.

Becca engulfed her son's prick-head in her mouth, closing her soft lips around the stalk just behind the engorged bulb. "Mmm..." she moaned. She'd gone too long without a living, throbbing cock in her mouth. Pure, animal need shook her--the urge to suck him until he came into her mouth was almost overwhelming. She'd resist that urge. She knew she could. She had to.

Oh, but Paul's cock tasted so good! Her mouth watered freely, saliva bathing his cock and seeping out past the corners of her lips. She rolled her tongue around his hot, spongy flesh, massaging his prick while more pre-cum drooled into the back of her mouth and rolled down her throat as if to prepare the way for a big hard column of cock.

"You're so good," Paul groaned. "Way better than Maggie."

Becca nearly choked. She pulled her mouth off his cock. "W-Who's Maggie?"

"Marguerite. My probation officer."

Her heart sank. "This is news. Probation for what?"

"Don't matter." Paul shrugged. "I'll tell you about it, later. Just you keep on sucking that dick."

Becca sat up, fists on her hips. "Don't take that tone with me, Paul. I've got a right to know what kind of trouble you're in. You may think you're a grown man, but I'm still your mother."

"Okay, okay--"

"And besides that, if you think I'm going to compete against some--some bureaucrat who's got you on a leash you can forget this whole damn thing!"

"I'm not on a leash!" Defiance flashed in Paul's eyes but quickly faded, replaced by an imploring look. "Ah, Mom. I didn't mean it like that at all. Nobody in the world can compete with you. I swear, I was just--look, it was a dumb thing to say and I'm sorry. Please don't stop."

Paul gave his mother the sad puppy look that always got to her. He was a keen manipulator, this one was. But it worked one more time, if only because she wanted his cock back in her mouth. She'd loved sucking Cal's prick, in the days when he'd been into it, and Paul's cock was very much like his father's only bigger. Much bigger. Longer, and thicker, the helmet so round and flared at its rim and the shaft more deeply veined than the dildo she'd considered so exaggerated when she'd used it the previous afternoon.

Just looking at her son's cock made her pussy run like a faucet.

Damning herself for a weakling, she leaned forward again as her lips parted of their own accord to mold themselves around his prick. She vowed that before she was done she'd make him forget even the name 'Marguerite.'"

"Oh, oh Mom, thank you!" Paul moaned in grateful tones, all the while inwardly congratulating himself. Everything was going just the way he'd planned and was proceeding more quickly than he'd dared hope. He'd learned years before how to soften his mother's anger and avoid her discipline. He was, he'd admit, just a little bit spoiled by her, and he was bright enough to know that it was because she'd sought to protect him from his father's eternal disapproval.

Now, though, there was an added dynamic: Mom wanted his cock. He didn't think she realized, yet, what a slut she was deep down inside. He would teach her.

He'd learned to read people real good, out on the road. Life was a hustle, a long con, and you used what you could find to get what you could get. Seeing the resistance in his mother's eyes, he'd deliberately dropped Maggie's name as a challenge to throw her off her balance. It had worked. Most things usually did work out for him.