My Mother, My Sister and Me

"But why didn't you tell me?"

"Mum told me not to let on, Rebecca didn't want you to know, said she thought you wouldn't understand; if only she knew what a depraved, horny little bunny you really are; if only she'd known that you'd have wanted to watch."

"Fuck Lauren, I feel so jealous yet so turned on at the same time."

"You'll get over it. Look, I've got to go, you go and fuck your mother and tell me all about it next week."

"Wait, do they know about us? Have you told them?"

"My mother knows I've got the hots for you, and she's cool with it. I've explained the psychology to her, and she understands, she said you were very hot, and she didn't blame me."

"Yes, but have you told her that we have mutual masturbation sessions while we fantasise about me fucking my mother?"

"God no, that's personal, it's between us, I wouldn't do that to you."

"Oh thank God."

"Stop worrying and go get her tiger."

Nothing seemed to phase Lauren, I wondered if she'd fucked her mother, it wouldn't have surprised me. I'd got three women swirling around in my head, and I wanted each of them very much. I was sure that Lauren and I would jump into bed together at the first opportunity as soon as she came home at Christmas. I still harboured hopes about fucking her mother Madeline, somehow the events of earlier today made that seem a little more likely. But the woman I still wanted to fuck more than any other was my mother.

She called out that tea was ready, and I joined her in the kitchen. We ate in relative silence, and my mother went to bed early. I wasn't far behind her; despite the muddle of feelings and emotions going through my mind, one particular urge overrode everything else. With my cock in my hand, I needed to relive what I'd witnessed earlier. I closed my eyes and saw images of my mother coming spectacularly as Madeline gave her pussy an expert seeing to with her tongue.

********************

I awoke with an erection and dispatched it quickly; I was so highly aroused by images of my mother and Madeline that I got another partial one in the shower. I decided to leave it alone and just enjoy the feeling of my cock feeling heavier and fatter as it snuggled in my underpants.

For the first time in weeks, my mother's bedroom door was closed. When she came down to breakfast, she seemed jittery and didn't indulge in any of her usual choreographed teasing as she moved around the kitchen. She looked as good as ever, but her sparkle was missing. I wished her happy birthday and said I'd let her open her present in the evening. I reminded her not to be late because I was preparing a special dinner.

To my surprise, she said goodbye and left without a hug or a kiss. I watched her striding down the path in her stilettos; a lovely sight, I had to admit. What had changed though? I was slightly puzzled; yes I'd discovered her dirty secret but she didn't know that I had; so why was she so preoccupied, and why had she stopped her seductive flirting with me?

I left work early and bought two dry-aged ribeye steaks on the way home. The Dauphinoise potatoes were in the oven, and the large oak dining table was set with two places opposite each other at one end. A bottle of 'Chateauneuf-du-Pape' had been opened and decanted; I'd bought two just in case. The candles were ready to be lit, and her present was waiting to be opened.

I'd been in two minds about the present, when I'd bought it, three days earlier, it had seemed ideal given the direction in which our relationship seemed to be heading. A set of erotic lingerie seemed just the thing to say to my mother that I really saw her as a sexual being, as a supremely sexy woman that I wanted to please in bed. At least it might have called her bluff; I might have found out whether she was serious about taking me as a lover, or whether she was just enjoying being a prick tease for her son.

Given her current frame of mind, I thought even more so that the lingerie would prompt a reaction one way or another; at least I'd know where I stood with her. I heard her key in the front door, I would soon find out.

"Hi, Mother, Happy Birthday. Everything is prepared, all you have to do is to go and make yourself even more beautiful than you are already."

"Can I just relax with a cup of tea first? It's been a pig of a day."

"Okay, I'll put the kettle on, you can open your birthday present."

We went into the kitchen, and I filled the kettle and switched it on. She sat at the kitchen table looking distracted and a little nervous, it was now or never, I fetched the gift-wrapped box from the lounge and handed it to her. She waited for me to pour the tea, and then she started to open her present. When she opened the box lid, her face was a picture. She looked as though she didn't know whether to be flattered or to admonish me for being inappropriate.

She lifted the soft, black, waist-high 'Victoria's Secret' corset out of the box and held it up. Her face turned crimson as she inspected the long integral suspender straps and the broad, low-rise matching thong. Then she picked up the two packs of ten denier, black, seamed stockings that I'd slipped into the box.

"Do you like it?"

She gave me a questioning look for several moments as though she was unsure of my intentions, at last, she spoke.

"You really are a naughty boy, buying your mother sexy underwear, What am I supposed to think?"

"I was hoping very much that you'd wear your present with that stunning, black, knitted dress you wore when you went out with your girlfriend a couple of weeks ago."

A shadow passed over her face when I spoke the word 'girlfriend,' I realised that it was too near the truth. I needed to move things on.

"Well, do I get a hug, or are you going to make me take it all back to the store?"

It did the trick; she put her arms around my neck and clung to me. I put my hands inside her suit jacket and pulled her in close. We stayed locked together long enough for my cock to pulse with arousal and start to enlarge.

"How did you know my size?" she said softly into my ear.

"Ah, that's my secret."

"Are you sure it's not Victoria's?" she chuckled and pulled away so that she could see my face, "Laundry basket or my knickers drawer?"

Now it was my turn to look embarrassed; not wanting her to know that I regularly rummaged through the laundry basket in search of the heady scent of her pussy, I confessed to looking in her underwear drawers.

"You're a very naughty young man; don't let me catch you with your hands on my panties, or I might have to smack your bottom," she grinned.

Her words sent a surge of arousal into my already engorged cock; I laughed lamely at her joke, hoping she wouldn't catch sight of the growing bulge in my trousers. I was pleased though, she seemed to have overcome whatever had been bothering her and was teasing and flirting with me again.

"I'll get started on the steaks if you'd like to ready yourself for a spectacular culinary experience madam."

"Mmmm, sounds like I'm in for a real treat tonight; I can't wait. Give me an hour; I need to shower and take care of some other girly stuff, and then I'm all yours," she said as she kissed my cheek slowly and sensuously."

"Okay, I'll grab a quick shower and get changed; see you in an hour."

I resisted a joke about us saving water by showering together and watched her sway her hips into the hallway in her tight pencil skirt. I could feel a tingling excitement in my stomach; this was going to be my chance to fuck my gorgeous mother, I was sure of it and I was determined not to do anything to spoil it.

After I'd showered and changed into a clean pale blue shirt and my best charcoal grey suit, I made my way along the landing. My mother's bedroom door was wide open, and so was the door to her en-suite. I could see her in the walk-in shower, she was reflected in a mirror that hung over the sink. The shower glass was steamed up so I couldn't see her clearly, but I could just make out the outline of her beautiful curves as she soaped her shoulders and arms, humming a pleasant tune.

I felt like a voyeur standing there watching her naked with her back to me. It didn't occur to me immediately that she must have left the doors open deliberately. I was more concerned that, should she turn around, she might be able to see me ogling her like some kind of pervert, so I made my way downstairs to make myself busy with preparations for the meal.

Eventually, everything was ready; all that was left was to fry the steaks, we both liked them medium rare, so it would only take five minutes once the griddle pan was hot enough. I stood at the bottom of the stairs, plucking up the courage to go and spy on my mother while she pulled her stockings on. Just as I thought better of it, she called my name.

"Callum, darling, could you just come and give me a hand please?"

"Okay."

My pulse quickened as I climbed the stairs. There she stood in her bedroom, in front of the full-length wardrobe door mirror, admiring her reflection in her black, fine-knit dress. Her brown hair was in a loose chignon, just like last time. She wore two gold earrings in each ear, one was a stud and the other long and dangling. Her lips and long, manicured fingernails were deep red, her black leather and gold metal filigree-heeled stilettos were high and her seamed, black stockings swathed her long shapely legs all the way up under her knee-length, pencil-cut dress to the tops of her thighs. The dress hugged her figure perfectly, her suspender fastenings were just faintly visible beneath the soft fine material.

She held out a fine gold chain necklace with a small red garnet in a gold setting. Her hazel eyes sparkled as they met mine in the mirror.

"Fasten this for me please darling, it's too fiddly for me."

I stood behind her, placed the fine gold chain around her slender neck, and fastened the catch, deliberately grazing the nape of her neck with my fingertips as I did so. She shivered and I could see the goosebumps appear around her collarbones. I rested my hands lightly on her shoulders, then moved them to cup the tops of her arms. The garnet rested on her décolletage, just above her cleavage; she looked more beautiful than I'd ever seen.

"Oh! Darling, what are you doing? You're sending shivers down my spine."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to," I lied, "you smell lovely, what are you wearing?"

"I've gone old school, it's Chanel number five, your father hated it, so I'm glad you like it."

"It's very classy, like you Mother."

"Ah, thanks darling, flattery will get you everywhere with me," she said as she put her right hand on my left hand.

"You've got big strong hands, that's another way that you differ from your father."

"I hope I'm as little like him as possible."

She turned to face me to emphasise her sincerity.

"You're not at all like him in any way."

She put a hand on my forearm; we looked searchingly into each other's eyes; I felt an overwhelming desire to kiss her full on the lips. She must have judged that the moment wasn't right, because, with a swift pirouette, she eluded me and made her way downstairs.

I didn't follow her straight away; I looked at my reflection in the mirror and wondered if I was being foolish; how could I possibly imagine that my mother would commit incest by allowing her son to fuck her for God's sake? In any case, she was clearly getting what she needed from Madeline. If my mother was into women now, or even if she swung both ways, how could I compete with Madeline's experience and expertise?

My self-doubt vanished the moment I heard her stilettos click-clacking on the hard floors downstairs. It was such a sexy, evocative sound; I had to be in my mother's presence, to watch as her fit, shapely body slinked around the house in her close-fitting dress and high heels. She was in the kitchen when I caught up with her. I loved that the heels she was wearing raised her up to just a couple of inches shorter than me.

"Mother, you don't need to do anything, it's all in hand. I've just got to do the steaks then we can sit down to eat."

"Okay darling, you don't mind if I watch you, do you?"

"No, let me pour you a glass of wine, it's been breathing for a couple of hours now," I said as I turned on the heat for the griddle pan.

"Mmmm, nice," she said as she took a sip of wine, "I can't remember the last time I was wined and dined by such a dishy young man, but I'd better stay sober in case you try to take advantage of me later on."

"You look so lovely that it would be impolite of me not to give you a birthday kiss at the very least."

"You're being very naughty and inappropriate again with your mother," she said teasingly.

"Well it is your birthday, it would be remiss of me not to give you my special attention."

The steaks started to sizzle and smoke in the pan; my mother's apron was hanging on the back of the kitchen door; I put it on to protect my clothes.

"Mmmm, it's a good job I'm your mother, otherwise I'd be insisting that you were naked underneath that apron."

Her words sent a tingle through me; my cock pulsed a couple of times and started to engorge. I turned to look at her in mock disbelief.

"Now who's being naughty and inappropriate?"

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, she got up off the edge of the kitchen table where she'd draped herself and sashayed toward the dining table.

"I can see it's nearly ready; I'll go and sit down."

Our flirting was back in full flow, but my comment about her being naughty and inappropriate seemed to have unnerved her a little. She looked pensive, I would have to go carefully with her if I was to stand any chance of coaxing her into a birthday kiss.

Her flirting and teasing had gathered pace and intensified over recent weeks. Once or twice, I'd been almost certain that we'd been close to a full-on kiss that would surely have led to me sinking my erect cock inside my own mother.

However, since yesterday evening, she'd seemed a little out of sorts; one minute she was seductive and provocative; the next it felt as though she was withdrawing from me. The only explanation I could think of was Madeline, my mother couldn't have known that I'd seen them in bed together, or so I thought at the time, so was she perhaps in love with her and feeling guilty about an incestuous desire to be fucked by her son?

I topped up her wine glass and she immediately took a couple of sips, it was a good sign; I didn't want her drunk, but I did want her uninhibited. I dimmed the lights, we settled down to eat; I tried to loosen her up a little by telling her how good she looked and how any son would be proud to be seen with a mother like her.

"I'd love to go out with you sometime; we could go to a classy restaurant, or the cinema, or maybe go and see a West End show. It would be great to be seen out with you, I could watch other people giving you admiring looks and wishing that you were their girlfriend."

"I'm forty-eight today; I think my 'girlfriend' days might be in short supply now."

"Nonsense, you're in your prime and you could easily pass for thirty-eight. I'll bet if we went out together, most people would assume that we were a couple."

"You look every bit as good as you did when I was small. Do you remember? You were such a kind and patient mother, you used to sit me on your knee so that I could watch while you were at your dressing table putting on your makeup."

"That was over twenty years ago darling. I don't think I'd be able to sit you on my knee now."

"Well, my point is you look as beautiful as ever, more so in fact, anyway, you could always sit on my knee."

"I might just do that if you keep plying me with wine and giving me such lovely compliments."

I picked up the bottle and refilled her glass, she laughed and took a sip, then I squeezed her hand and told her again that she was beautiful.

"Is it working?" I asked her.

"It might be," she smiled.

I was glad that I'd had the foresight to open the second bottle; I cleared the plates and brought it to the table on my way back. Her glass was almost empty again so I topped it up. Then I served a simple ice cream dessert. When we'd finished dessert, I brought in a small birthday cake with one lit candle and sang Happy Birthday to her. She looked thrilled to have been made such a fuss of; her whole demeanour lit up and a tear came to her eye. She got up and hugged me as if her life depended upon it.

"Darling, if you only knew, my own parents never attempted to make my birthday special; your father hardly ever remembered it. Oh, I'm so happy that you've made such an effort."

"I wanted you to know that you're loved and appreciated Mum; you deserve to be happy."

She released me from her tight embrace and a shadow seemed to cross her face again.

'What's the matter, is there something wrong?"

"Darling, I can't do this any longer."

I started to worry, was my incestuous affair with my mother to end before it had begun?

"Do what?"

"This, us both pretending that we don't know what happened yesterday."

"What do you mean?" I knew exactly what she meant but couldn't think why she thought that I knew.

"Did you come home from work late yesterday morning?"

I didn't answer.

"Did you?"

This time I had to tell the truth, "Yes."

"So you know then?"

"Yes, but how?..."

"How did I know?"

"Yes."

"I saw your car drive away from where you parked."

"Oh God!"

"Did you come into the house?"

"Yes."

"Then you must have realised that I was in bed with, with..."

"Madeline, yes... I watched her make you come."

"I'm so, so sorry; I didn't want you to find out like that, it must have been horrible for you."

"Mother, it was the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life."

"Really? Really? Honestly? Oh my goodness, then you don't mind that we're in a relationship?"

"No, although, to be completely honest, I'm jealous."

"Do you want to go with her too?"

"Well, yes, I can't deny it, but that's not what I meant."

"Wait, what did you mean?"

"I was jealous of her, not you."

We were still standing next to the large solid oak dining table. The only item left on the table was the birthday cake, its candle still smoking slightly. The dimmed lighting fell across my mother's face as she realised I was telling her that I wanted to fuck her. She looked at me seductively.

"Do you still want to give me that birthday kiss?"

Our lips touched for a second or two, then again for longer. She embraced me and we kissed gently at first, then with more vigour. The feeling of my mother's tongue in my mouth was sublime. My erect cock pressed against her hip, and her pussy pressed against my thigh. I could feel the heat it was giving off, she gyrated her pelvis and rubbed herself hard against me. I grabbed her right buttock with my left hand and pressed the fingers of my right hand into her mound through the fine material of her dress.

I could feel her labia parting; she gasped and then pushed her tongue further into my mouth. Her right hand slid down between our bodies; she squeezed my bulging cock through my trousers. She eased my suit jacket over my shoulders and removed it while we still kissed passionately. Then she eased herself back against the table and pulled me with her by my tie. We kissed again; I felt her suspender strap at the front of her left thigh; my ardour increased.

"Do you like me in stockings?" she asked with breathless urgency.

"Fuck yes, if only you knew how much it turns me on."

She opened my shirt buttons frantically and I tried to pull my arms out of the sleeves but I hadn't undone the cuffs. She took advantage of my predicament and unbuckled my belt, then unzipped my trousers. She let them fall to my knees, I managed to free myself from my shirtsleeves just as she peeled off my underpants and exposed my rigid cock.