My Mothers are MILFs!

"Suck on them," she ordered. He responded with a long pull that drew bolts of delight from her breasts straight down to her pussy. Her nipple tightened even further, until it felt hard enough to etch glass. And every rasp of his tongue against her aereola brought another steaming surge of wetness to her groin, until she felt her juices were about to escape and start running down her shaking thighs.

She couldn't take it. She had to feel his cock. She shifted, straddling his hips with her thighs. Down she sank. Down, down, until his burning rod touched the flushed, quivering lips of her pussy.

"Oh, fuck." It wasn't a gasp, more like a prayer. Slowly, she let her full weight fall on his groin, until penis was trapped against his stomach and the shaft was wedged between the soaking folds of her cleft.

Brandon stared up at her. "Damn. That feels...incredible."

She leaned down and gave him another kiss, wriggling her bottom until he shook in helpless reaction. "What? Didn't Diane ever do this for you?"

He shook his head, then snickered. "Give her a break, Janice. You probably have like ten times the amount of experience she does. Maybe she needs more time to learn."

"Young people," she declared, "lack ambition." She began to move on him, caressing his length with her slit, coating him with her dew. Brandon began to run his hands up and down her back, and she bit her lip in pleasure. "You should tell her what you like."

"No one ever did this for me before. So it's not like I knew."

She filed that thought away for later. What else had he not experienced? If she had her way, his life was going to become much more exciting. Vistas of vast, unexplored territory seemed to stretch out in her imagination, and her body throbbed with excitement.

Meanwhile, Brandon was busy exploring her. His hands and fingers stroked her sides, her thighs, and returned again and again to her breasts, with a dedication which was more than a little flattering. Or, at least, it would have been, if she didn't know just how tit-obsessed most teenage males were. Still, his touches were firm rather than rough, and when she pulled away from him, he didn't force the action.

"You're good," she said, smiling. Raising up, she let his cock slide against her petals. "Real good. Can you feel how wet I am for you, Brandon?" She set her hands on his strong young shoulders, looking deep into his eyes. "Do you want to be inside me?"

Wordlessly, he nodded. "Good. Because I want you inside me, too."

A shift of weight, and now the spongy head of his shaft was poised at her entrance. Brandon closed his eyes and groaned as she sank down on him, filling herself with his rod. She shut her lips on a whimper as he stretched her. It had been years since she had been with a man. In the early years of her marriage, she had dallied once or twice. But she soon got out of the habit. Despite her reputation, no one had made her feel as good as Maureen did. None had been worthy of risking her marriage. And none of those men had been as...gifted...as Brandon was. His thickness pushed her inner walls wide, making her feel stuffed and replete.

"Fuuucccckkk." It was a low, guttural moan, dragged from the bottommost depths of her belly. Brandon's curly pubic hair tickled her nether-lips, and she lifted up, bowing her head so she could kiss him. "That...is fucking awesome."

He swallowed, but returned her kiss ardently. "You feel great, too, Mom."

She tangled her hands in his hair as she kissed him feverishly, her hips rising, then falling again. She loved this. Loved this feeling, too long gone, of a man's shaft filling her, her breasts rubbing against hard muscle rather than another woman's breasts. Her insides felt hot and liquid, and she snuck a hand down between their bodies, her fingers finding her slick, throbbing clit, pressing down, then easing up, each push of her fingers making her passion-slick pussy pulse.

Perhaps wanting to help, Brandon reached for her, but she batted his hand away. "Later," she panted. "Someday...soon...I'll teach you. But not...not now."

Tension was gathering in her belly, deep inside, and she welcomed it, knowing its meaning. With a shift of her hips, she began to draw out her strokes on Brandon's cock, making them longer, slower, but also deeper, his wonderful shaft rubbing the walls of her vagina. He was pushing up at her, his hips rising off the bed in time with her. But somehow he must have sensed her desire, her need. He didn't force his pleasure on her, cutting her climax short before it began. Instead he matched her, joined her, and she fell into an unconscious rhythm she had never encountered with another man before.

"Oh, shit," she gasped. "Oh, baby. Getting close. Getting close." Unable to hold herself back, she fell across Brandon's chest, her groin slapping down on him frenziedly. "Fill me with it," she hissed, as she felt a twitch inside her. "Fill me up with your cum!"

And Brandon did. He pushed up against her, his control breaking as his hips lifted up off the bed. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, and as she felt his cock lurch inside her, her climax came, and she clamped her thighs around him, writhing in sensual ecstasy as she felt the hot spurt of her son's seed fill her channel.

Janice heard her first. Her orgasm had left her limp, lying across Brandon's chest as they slowly caught their breath. For a while she had been simply content to revel in the moment, combing his hair with her fingers as their bodies came down from the natural high of sex. The sun had gone down as they made love, and a fall twilight seeped in through the closed curtains, providing the only light in the dim room.

A noise downstairs made her lift her head slightly from where it had rested, pillowed on Brandon's shoulder. Her lips curled in a smile, but she kept her body calm. Nothing could keep what had happened a secret. And besides, why would she want to? She and Brandon were lovers now. Even if Maureen tried to separate them, which she did not believe for a minute would happen, there was no way she would give him up.

His cock shifted inside her, and she squeezed it with her sheath. His sigh of pleasure almost, but not quite, hid the creaking sound of Maureen climbing the stairs.

"What?" He lifted himself up on his elbows, his eyes wide and panicked.

"Shhhh," she soothed him, rolling off as the door opened. Maureen stood framed in the light of the hallway.

"Oh." She snorted, her lips quirked in an expression Janice had seen many times before. Half exasperation, half loving amusement. "So this is where the two of you are."

"Hi, Mo," she laughed. "I won!"

*****

Maureen closed her eyes as the blood drained out of Brandon's face, leaving it pale and sick.

It was just like her wife, she sighed. She loved Janice to death, but the older woman was like a hyperactive kid sometimes. She couldn't hold still for more than five minutes at a time and she couldn't keep her mouth shut at all.

And now...

"Won?" Brandon looked back and forth between his mothers, his voice sharp. "Won what?"

"It's not important-" she began, but she was cut off.

"It was a bet," Jan said blithely. "I bet Mo I could get you in the sack." She reached down towards his groin, leering cheerfully. "And I did!"

Brandon pushed her hand away, and Maureen bit her lip, sensing the explosion to come. "So this was what it was all about?" he demanded. "A stupid fucking bet? That's just..." His mouth twisted. "That's just sick."

Too late, Jan seemed to realize her mistake. "No, no, Brandon. Not like that!" She looked helplessly at Maureen, hoping for support. "I just...we just..."

Maureen jumped in. "Brandon, slow down. I'm not angry. Just..." Her fists clenched as he got out of bed, his face thunderous. "For the love of God, will you just talk to us?"

He snatched his discarded clothes off the floor, his movements stiff and jerky. Almost against her will, her eyes were drawn to his healthy male body, then to his groin. Even limp, he was more than a bit impressive. But this, of all places, was not the right time and place to comment on how attractive he was. One unwelcome word might push him right over the edge and make him say or do something that could never be brought back.

Brandon stood, pulling his boxers up. The rest of his clothes were in an untidy bundle against his chest. "Mom," he grated. "Get out of my way, please."

Shrugging, she stood aside, watching him storm out of the room. A few seconds later, they heard a door slam shut.

"Well," she said to the huddled figure on the bed.

"Was it worth it?"

*****

Brandon didn't know what to do.

Good, his brain taunted him. The last time you thought you knew what to do, you ended up having sex with your mother. Pervert.

Adopted mother, he protested feebly. Janice isn't really...I mean, biologically...

But even he knew that all his rationalizations were bullshit. The truth was that he had wanted to screw Janice. Had wanted to for weeks, ever since she had started being more affectionate with him. It was obvious, in hindsight. She had been trying to seduce him. And he had fallen for it, with no more self-control than a sophomore trying to get into a girl's pants for the first time.

He took a deep breath, then let it out. His breath clouded in the chilly fall air, hanging for a moment before the slight breeze swept it away.

Behind him, a door opened, then closed.

"Go away, Maureen," he said, not turning around.

"The last time you took that tone with me," Mother Maureen said, sitting down in a chair on the other side of the patio table, "you were eleven years old. The Bears were getting their butts kicked on Monday Night Football, and you were having a nasty little hissy fit because I wouldn't let you stay up to watch the rest of the game.

"I paddled your behind for it then," she added calmly. "Don't think I'm not willing to do again tonight."

He shrugged sullenly, keeping his mouth shut.

"You could have handled that better, you know."

"Which part?" he asked sarcastically, startled out of his surly mood. "The part where I fucked my own mother? Or the part where she admitted she did it just to win a bet?"

"Say that word one more time, and I wash your mouth out with soap."

"I'm not a kid anymore."

"Then stop acting like one!" she snapped. Even in the darkness, he could see the angry glitter of her eyes.

He shook his head, disbelieving. "What are you talking about? Are you...are you on her side?"

Maureen huffed in exasperation and folded her arms across her chest. The leather of her old jacket creaked with the motion. "I'm not on anyone's side. Seems to me there was plenty of foolishness between the both of you. Jan should have been honest about what she wanted and given you the chance to make your choice, rather than luring you in like a bee to honey. And you," she pointed at him, "could have acted like an adult, rather than using what she said as an excuse to salve your own guilty conscience."

"My what?" He sat up straight.

"You heard me." Maureen cocked her head at him, her eyes narrow, as if she was examining an exotic but unappealing dish at a restaurant. French-fried crickets, maybe. "You saw me come into the bedroom, and the first thing you wanted to do was make clear that what had happened between the two of you was not your fault." She flipped a hand dismissively. "Really, Brandon. If I thought Jan and I had taught you one thing, it was the need to take responsibility for your own actions."

"I was lured." Even in his own ears, it felt childish.

"Oh? Is your dick in charge of your brain? Granted, you're eighteen. But I thought that even teenage males had some self-control."

"God, Mom!" He ran frustrated hands over his face. "I don't get you! You caught me in bed with your wife. And you're not even acting angry about it. Instead, you're just being...snide and sarcastic. Can't you just, I don't know, punch me in the face or something?"

She shrugged. "I could, I guess. Would it make you feel better?"

"No. Yes. I don't know." He put his head in his hands. "Nothing makes sense right now."

In the dark, he heard Maureen get up and walk over to him, then felt an arm fall around his shoulders and pull him in for a hug. How many times had she comforted him? How many times had he leaned on her for support?

"Let me guess. You expected me to completely lose my shit when I caught you in bed with Jan, right? And now, since I obviously haven't lost my shit, you don't know what to do?"

He nodded numbly.

"Well, you can start by apologizing to Jan, when she gets back."

"Gets back?" He sat up, suddenly worried. "What happened? Where did she go?"

"Well, after you stormed off, she cried for a bit. Then we talked. And then she went for a walk. She didn't want to run into you before I'd had a chance to ream you out a bit, since that's what you seemed to want. But I'm sure she'll be back before too long."

"Mom. Maureen." He took a deep breath. "Why aren't you punching me in the face?"

In the dark, her smile glimmered. "Let me ask you a question," she countered. "Are you sorry you made love to Jan? Or are you sorry you got caught?"

He started to answer, but stopped when she raised a finger. "And be real careful about what you say," she warned him. "I want the truth. Not what you think will get me to take it easy on you."

He clenched his jaw and looked away, unwilling to meet her eyes.

"Hah." Strangely, her voice seemed...sympathetic. "That's what I thought." She sighed. "Not that I can blame you much, Brandon. Janice has a very...compelling personality. When she sets her mind on something...well, it would take a stronger person than you are to tell her no. Hell, I couldn't. And I was older than you when I met her for the first time. And she is, after all, one hell of a sexy woman."

"Maureen? I don't..." He stuttered to a halt. Why couldn't she give him a straight answer? "Why aren't you mad?"

"Do you want me to be?"

"I want to understand!" he flared. "If Diane had caught me screwing, I don't know, her older sister, or her best friend, or something, she sure as hell wouldn't be sitting out on the deck talking about it with me. She'd be kicking my ass so hard I'd be tasting shoe leather!"

Maureen leaned back. "Well, maybe it is our fault, a little bit. How can you understand when you don't really know how things are between the two of us? We've been together for so long we aren't used to explaining things to anyone else.

"Janice is a wonderful person." In the darkness, he had to strain to catch her voice. "But she's not like me, Brandon. She never fought who she was. I did. She's impulsive, headstrong. I'm not."

"Opposites attract?" he suggested.

"Something like," she agreed. "But really, Brandon, when I think about what the odds were against us staying together when we first met, I have to laugh. Jan is not suited for monogamy.

"Which is why I don't ask her to be faithful."

He blinked in confusion. "Huh?"

"Think it through. I did, back when I first moved in with her. I'd already seen the way she looked at other men and women. It didn't take a genius to see that some day she would get tripped up and fall on her back with her legs wide open. And if I was the sort of selfish, jealous bitch who couldn't handle a little competition, all I would do is make us both miserable. And then drive her away.

"So I gave her freedom. Freedom to stray. And freedom to come back, without a bunch of high-school drama. And that freedom," she added, "binds her closer to me than any promise we could make. I give her what no one else will."

"The right to choose," he said, suddenly understanding.

Maureen nodded. "Exactly. She chooses to be faithful. Mostly." Her lips turned up in her seldom-seen grin. "And when she doesn't, well, it usually gives us something hot to talk about in bed."

"She's not faithful? And you are? That doesn't seem fair to you."

She reached out and took his hand. "Fair? Who cares about fair? This isn't a soccer match, Brandon. Or a game show. These are our lives we're talking about. I love Janice. If I tried to make her play by my rules, I'd lose her. So I don't." She shrugged. "Seems like a fair trade to me."

She stood and stretched, her hands reaching towards the cloudy night sky. "Enough talking. Hopefully I've given you enough to chew on for a while.

"And two more things to think about, before I let you off the hook for the night.

"First, you're going to apologize to her tomorrow morning."

"All right," he sighed. "Though I don't really know whether it's for going to bed with her, or for the way I acted, after."

"I think you do know that."

He ignored the gibe. "And second?"

Maureen leaned close. "Everything that happened tonight? Janice suggested it. Which means I knew about it, even if I bet her that you wouldn't go to bed with her. And I could have stopped it, if I wanted to. I've told her 'no' once or twice before and made it stick.

"And if I was all right with her going to bed with you, what do you think that really means, Brandon?"

She turned around and walked back into the house as he stared after her. And he didn't think it was his imagination that was giving her long, slender legs a saucy twist.

*****

Brandon would rather have faced a herd of rabid wolverines than go downstairs for breakfast the next morning.

Do wolverines have herds?

Oh, shut up.

Half of him wanted to sneak down the stairs and out the back door, hop over the fence, and avoid everyone until he felt up to facing Janice. He figured he would be able to screw up his courage sometime in the next ten or twelve years.

Don't be an idiot. He rinsed off his razor and dried his face. The longer you put this off, the worse it's going to be. Just rip off the fucking band-aid. Yeah, you might bleed a little. But the pain will stop eventually.

To add to the fun, it was Saturday morning. So it wasn't as if he could make a hurried apology, toast a bagel, and then escape out the door with the excuse that he had to rush to school. And by the way the rain was pelting down outside, the soccer game which had been scheduled for that afternoon was most likely going to be cancelled.

You got three choices, he thought, as he pulled up his jeans. Spend the day up here like a chump, bail like a coward, or actually face the music.

He sighed. His sleep last night, what little there had been of it, had been uneasy, interrupted by soft, sensual images. Of Janice and what they had done together. And even more disturbingly, of erotic dreams where Janice's sweet face and curvy body had transmuted into Maureen's.

Maureen. Her face, her body, haunted him, as much as her words the night before. What had her hints the previous night meant? Was she really okay with what he and Janice had done?

More frighteningly, was it possible that she was willing to be more than an observer in the dance Janice and he were sharing, and might be willing - fuck, eager - to be an active participant?

It was all too much, he decided, pulling on a sweatshirt and heading downstairs. He could work out his complicated feelings for Maureen later. The primary order of the day was to make things right with Janice.

He walked downstairs, his feet leaden. In the living room, the television was on, the sound turned low the way Maureen liked it -- enough to fill the silence with background noise, but not enough to truly distract her. He paused in the doorway that connected the dining room with the kitchen. His mothers were talking quietly in the breakfast nook, their half-finished breakfasts in front of them. Janice must have just made a joke, because Maureen laughed, her face breaking into one of her infrequent grins. Janice responded by stroking her cheek with the back of her knuckles as her wife leaned into the caress.