My Mum and the Vicar's Wife Ch. 03

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I discover more depth to their relationship.
5.4k words
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Part 3 of the 3 part series

Updated 06/10/2023
Created 09/23/2021
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The next afternoon, as I step inside the front door, Mum is walking through the house, cradling a baby boy in her arms. "You've kept that secret well," I say with a laugh.

Mum replies, "Yeah, right, funny man. MaryEllen had to run to the stores for a bit. She should be back, anytime."

I head to the kitchen to check on the ribs Mum has slow cooking. "They smell delicious Mum," I offer, "You made extras?"

"Yes. I've invited the Johnsons over for supper, so you'll need to set the table for five." The doorbell rings, and MaryEllen steps in, carrying a few shopping bags.

Our eyes meet, and she is smitten as usual. The eighteen-year-old neighbor takes the baby from Mum, says a cheery "Thanks", and trundles off.

While we walk into the kitchen, Mum says, "Only God knows who the father is. Such a slut." It makes me wonder if Mum has any idea it could be her own grandson she was just holding. I mean, the baby might be mine, or any of the other four guys that fucked MaryEllen like a rag doll, at that bush party last year. MaryEllen does like the dick, and I've never heard her say no to anything.

Mum and I find some time over tea, to talk more about their lifestyle. I ask the inevitable first, "So do you cage dad too?"

Mum takes a sip, pondering her response. "No, we don't do that. The vicar and your Dad are two very different men. George and Tara are both submissives. But she is still on a plateau much higher up than he. So they both do as they are told, but Tara remains very powerful over George, and he loves that."

I nod, still not quite grasping the difference. Mum continues," Your father and I are very much equals in many ways, but his true love for me is to see me fulfilled sexually. To watch me or hear my moans as other men satisfy me, gives your father great comfort. He isn't jealous, because he recognizes his limitations, and doesn't keep me from my best sex life. Your Dad has never been able to give me an orgasm with his penis, yet he has a most talented tongue, and that is how he shows his love for me after my lover, or lovers, have left."

I counter, "But you kicked him out when George and Tara visited last night."

Mum is smiling broadly as I finish speaking. "Derek, it is the deviation, the change of pace, that keeps sexual tension at its peak. Your Dad had all evening to wonder how you might have been involved with the Johnsons and me. He was quite ravenous in bed last night, as I told him of how well you performed with both Tara and me."

"You mean, he..." Mum cut my question short.

"Yes, Derek. Me seducing you had only been a fantasy for the two of us for a good, long time. When he realized that it had actually come true, Daddy's tongue was worn out by the time I had climaxed twice more. I've never seen him so excited. We both slept like babies after."

It still sounds as though Mum is the center of attention, so I ask, "Mum, does Dad get to, em, finish too?"

"Oh, yes, love. His pleasure is very important to me as well. If he hadn't humped his little sausage to completion on our bed sheets while his face was buried between my legs, I would have taken care of his needs. Usually with a hand job, or a blowie, if I feel generous."

"Oh," I say, now even more inquisitive. "He isn't allowed to, uh..."

"Enter me? Cum in me? Certainly. But that is left as a special treat for him. I have become a size queen over time, so intercourse with something less than the size of your package doesn't do much for me. I like to keep PIV as a special occasion for your father. You know, a birthday or anniversary."

I offer, "Well, that does seem to be a lot different than what I've seen of the Johnsons, I guess."

I begin to prepare the table, and Mum raises the subject again. "You know, Tara does have some liberties with your father as well. It's not like I'm the only one having fun."

My eyebrows rise immediately. Wow! This is something totally unexpected. "Dad and Tara?"

"Derek, you've been watching too much porn about this type of lifestyle. Your Dad isn't deprived. I want to see him happy too. We just express ourselves in different ways. And you can ask him yourself. He WANTS me to be the leader in the bedroom. Everyone sees Tara as the meek wife of the perverted vicar, but you've already experienced her sinful side. She adores Tim in bed. She knows it will be a brief session, and that your Dad will always please her orally, but she still uses him to give George the humiliation he needs in their relationship."

Just then, Dad enters. He says, "Hi, Derek. Hello, Mum." Then, as he kisses Mum on the lips, he notices the extra place settings. "Company?"

"Yes, Tim. I've invited George and Tara over. Tara and I thought you might like to entertain them upstairs after supper, while Derek and I amuse ourselves down here."

"That sounds quite nice, doesn't it, boy?" Dad says, looking my way. He adds, "I guess it would be crowded with all of us in one room." Before I could answer, Mum makes another offer.

"Or, you can entertain George and Tara, while Derek and I watch some telly until they leave. Then there would be plenty of room in our bed for the three of us." She smiles and winks at him.

Quickly, Dad responds, "Oh, that would be even better, I think. Would that be okay with you Derek?" I find myself flabbergasted at how easy all of this seems to be for them, as though they were selecting food from a diner menu.

"I'm fine with whatever you two would like," I suggest, looking toward Mum.

"Then that is what we will do. Both of you should select some appropriate attire for our guests." I think it odd that all of this has been decided before two of the participants have even arrived. Dad and I retreat to our respective rooms and return wearing dress pants and buttoned shirts.

Mum goes upstairs as well, but dons a sheer black blouse, that shows well her lacey black bra beneath. A steel grey skirt displays her thick legs to mid thigh, and sheer hosiery and grey pumps finish off her ensemble nicely.

Mum pulls out some wine glasses while Dad opens the wine and begins filling them for her.

As if on cue, the doorbell rings. I answer it and greet our guests. Seeing a neighbor walking his dog past the house, I offer, "Good evening vicar Johnson and Mrs. Johnson, won't you come in?" and usher them inside. The vicar shakes my hand and his wife offers a kiss on the cheek - her rosy red lips leave a ruby smudge on me. Tara's cologne teases my nose, while her husband smiles a knowing smile. It would seem that they are well aware of what is to come of the evening.

I assist Tara in removing her light jacket, which reveals that her sheer white blouse is the only fabric between my eyes and her tiny breasts. Her dark, raisin-like nipples are already erect, and poke at the wispy material, daring my eyes to not stare at them.

"You look wonderful tonight, Tara," my father comments, handing her a goblet filled with wine. She blushes some, and says, "Thank you, Tim. Georgie picked it out especially with you in mind." Tara leans into Dad and kisses him, but fully on the lips, one arm balancing the wine while the other reaches round his neck.

When she steps back, Tara looks immediately at Mum for reassurance, and is greeted with a nod and smile. At the same time, Mom steps next to me and puts one arm around my waist, her hand settling on my hip. The poor vicar has no idea which couple he should keep his eyes on. Dad slides his arm around the vicar's wife, mimicking Mum's move, yet his eyes riveted to Mum and me for any movement at all that might in the least way be sexually arousing.

"This is delicious," I offer, holding up my glass.

Tara looks into Dad's eyes, "Yes, delicious." Again she checks in with Mum, and then gives George a naughty smile.

Mum says, "Drink up all. Dinner is ready. I'm sure we will all enjoy some dessert, later." Each of us sips the remainder of our wine and we proceed to the table. Mum points to the head of the table and says, "George, you should sit here, so you can lead us in saying Grace."

And while Mum directs, both men take over the chore of serving the racks of ribs, potatoes and vegetables from stovetop to table. George has put an apron on over his cassock, and both men move effortlessly through the kitchen.

"Tara, you sit on that side, next to Tim. And Derek, you and I will sit on this side." As I attempt to go by her to help the men with serving, she grasps my arm and guides me to my seat, whispering, "The boys are fine. They will take care of us tonight. Just relax and enjoy it."

Mum looks to Tara, and says, "That blouse does look very elegant, Tara," drawing my eyes once again to the dark nubbins pressing into the soft, flowing fabric. Then Mum's hand settles softly along the top of my right thigh, the heel of it less than an inch from my softened cock. Tara looks at Mom's hand, then at me, saying nothing.

As Dad places a serving tray down, Tara says, "Thank you, Mum. I must say that you two look wonderful together." Dad eyes us, and notices Mum's hand on me, then looks at me, unable to hide his pleasure.

I offer, "I think you are right, Tara," and reach my arm around Mum, pulling her into me. Dad, hand still on the serving tray, is unable to pull himself away when he sees my hand appear at Mum's rib cage, fingers firmly cupping the side of her massive right boob.

"Don't forget the gravy, Timmy," Mum admonishes him, snapping my father from his spell.

"Yes, Mum. Right away." But George has arrived with the gravy boat, and everything is now at the table.

Tara calls to Dad, "Come, sit with me so we can start, Tim. She pats the seat of the chair, next to her, and Dad sits - with Tara on his right and the vicar on his left, at the head of the table.

George stands at his chair and removes the apron, and proceeds to say Grace. "Bless us, Lord," but as he speaks, he notices that his wife has set her left hand directly on top of my father's groin, fingers cupping his package through his trousers. The vicar stumbles through the rest of the prayer, eyes gazed only at Tara's hand play with Dad. Upon completion, the five of us join in a harmonious "Amen", which is followed by a soft moan from my father.

Poor Dad, despite Tara's left hand pleasuring him, he can't keep his eyes away from my fingers and thumb exploring Mum's massive lacey bra, through her blouse. Mum is beaming at my gumption. Dad tries not to react to both stimuli, but his hips and thighs betray him. I can see that he is becoming overwhelmed at the sexual festivities already.

The vicar, meanwhile, has begun to eat; his other hand still nestled in the loose pocket of his cassock. Mum's left hand moves to find my own hardening cock, and rests on it mid-shaft, allowing each heartbeat of mine to lengthen my erection more, and more.

I happen to catch my father silently forming the words, "Please stop," to my mother. She and I both sense his dread that if the two women continue their ministrations, Dad will lose control, and end his night right here at the table, before it begins.

Mum removes her hand from me and nods to her girlfriend, who quickly retreats from Dad's crotch. I follow suit, gliding my hand from around my Mum, caressing her back lightly, along the way. Dad's relief is instantaneous.

We all begin to devour our supper, pleasant compliments given to Mum for her culinary efforts. With more small talk out of the way, Mum becomes rather silent, and the husbands take note quickly.

George and Dad tend to removing plates and glasses, filling the sink for washing and drying. Meanwhile the ladies and I chat about not much really, filling in the quiet moments while the boys tidy things up. All of this is good for my ego, and I relax as Mum suggested, and enjoy the ride. The wives and I go to the lounge where Mum and I take the sofa, while Tara awaits Dad in the loveseat. Shortly after, George and Dad enter the room and adapt to the seating plan - Dad snuggles in with Tara, while her husband is sat in the easy chair, happy as a clam. About ten minutes of chitchat ensues before Mum suggests, with authority, "Tim, why don't you escort Tara upstairs? George, you may as well stay back with Derek and me, so the two of them can get comfortable. They don't need you hovering over them."

Tara and Dad are already rising up before Mum finishes speaking, with Tara soon leading the way up the stairs. Once Dad and Tara were gone, Mum says, "Georgie, did Tara free your little willie for you, when you went home last night?" A giggle is heard from Tara at the top of the stairs.

"Yes, Mum. Thanks for suggesting she do that for me. It has been quite a while."

Mum continues, grinning as she asks, "And were you allowed to put that boy cock of yours inside your wife, or did you go off before you even had the chance?"

"Oh, Mum," George said excitedly. "Yes, she let me put it inside. It was a real treat! Derek is a real cummer!" Now, I know that some men do like sloppy seconds. But, it was just surreal to hear someone brag about something like this.

"And did she allow you to cum inside her?" Mum asks, already well aware of the answer.

"No Ma'am. I had to pull out."

She giggles and says, "So you had to jack yourself off like a horny teenaged boy?"

"Yes, Mum. But she promised me that maybe next time she would allow my little chubby to go where the big boys go."

Mom looks to me and asks, "I guess this talk doesn't do much for you, does it, Derek?" I shake my head no, silently.

"I don't suppose any girl has forced you to do that, have they Derek?" I recognized where this was going.

"Oh, no, Mum." I offer. "They all like me cumming inside. They are usually moaning and cumming on my cock, so girls love it when I fill their pussy or mouth. Sometimes on the second or third rounds, a girl will beg me to cum all over her face, though."

The vicar is listening to all of this while his thumb and forefinger wanks his dicklet beneath his robe.

Mom laughs a bit, then says, "Did Tara lock you up again, George?"

"No Mum. I'm free as a bird today!" he announces.

"Then why don't you boys stand up and let me have a wee look?"

The vicar jumps from his seat and begins unbuttoning the many buttons of his cassock, while I undo my belt and drop my trousers to the floor. My cock is still flaccid as the two of us stand next to my seated mother, in all her dominant glory.

However, when George finally slips off his cassock, and has no underwear on beneath, the diminutive gentleman is already fully aroused. Yet, my dick in its present form is more than twice his length, rigid. It reminds me of what mine looked like, the first time I noticed that my dick could even get hard, somewhere around third grade. Mum sits between us, and chuckles.

"Look at the difference, Georgie. Isn't Derek's magnificent?" George stares at mine, and toys with himself, nodding. I have to smile at how he loves this talk.

"Tell me!" she admonishes. He instantly recoils.

"Yes, Mum. Your son has a cock that I can only dream of." Mum proudly smiles.

"Georgie," Mum says, in a sweet voice, "I would love to play with my boy, like your wife is right now with Tim, but as you can see, Derek needs a little fluffing to get him ready. Would you be a good boy, and do that for Mummy?"

I put my hands on my hips, and the obedient vicar drops to his knees, and reaches out to cup my thick, drooping shaft. He opens his mouth, looking into my eyes, and begins to fellate me. I am surprised by how soft his mouth is, never having thought that a man would be very good at sucking dick.

Quickly my cock responds to his sucking and licking me, from the tip of my cock to the base of my shaft. The hairs of his goatee tickle at times; again, even the most hirsute girl would never have offered such a sensation. George turns his head sideways and slowly draws one of my balls into his mouth, laving the sensitive egg inside with his tongue. This brings me to full attention, and surprisingly fast.

"He is a most able cocksucker, Mum," I offer, one hand guiding the back of George's head to the slow rhythm that I prefer. George moans out loud at the compliment. His hand remains fisted around my shaft, squeezing more blood into it, and his thumb strokes my very sensitive frenulum, coaxing dribbles of precum from me.

"Yes," Mum says, kindly, "I've seen him cum without touching himself once, when your father erupted in his mouth. He's such a good little faggot."

The submissive man, hearing Mum's description of such a lewd event, grasps my shaft at the base, and hungrily impales his mouth with it. His lips meet his fist almost six inches down my length. George moans as I do, both of us enjoying his warm, wet mouth working my cock like a horny schoolgirl. He removes his hand from my shaft, and reaches both hands around my hips to take hold of my taut glutes. His fingers spread wide across my cheeks, holding me firm and is able to take my entire length. George's throat accepts my speared head without so much as a gag or wretch from the holy man.

Mum taps George on the top of his head. "That's enough, boy. I'm sure Tara is almost done servicing my husband. You should go see if they have anything they might like you to do for them." George removes his mouth, and smiles at me.

"Thank you," he says automatically, to no one in particular, picking up his cloak. He has left me coated in his slobber, and is on his way up the stairs, as naked as the day he was born, but for his black socks.

Mum stands, takes hold of my dick. She kisses me, saying, "Wasn't that fun? He loved it!"

"Yeah, it was weird to see a man so willing to suck a cock like that. I see what you mean about just enjoying the power of it. I did have the notion of giving him a good face fucking, though."

Mum responds with, "All in good time, my love."

I move in for another kiss, this time far more intense, my hands reaching around to pull her large ass cheeks into me. Our tongues dance while Mum grinds into me, my wet dick presses into her fat belly. Her heavy breasts crush my chest.

I kiss her cheek and nuzzle lower, but Mum stops my advance. She says, "Let's slow down a bit. They won't be long." We sit back on the sofa, Mum letting my head nuzzle into her heaving left breast, my cock returning to its flaccid state. We enjoy the quiet together, and only a few minutes later, all three adults appear on the staircase. "See, I told you," she whispers in my ear.

The two of us meet them near the front door, and I notice that the vicar's beard is matted wet; his nose and lips sport a honey glaze. "Thank you all for dinner", says George, his broad smile not waning in the least.

Dad says, "Thank you both for coming." The wives give each other a peck on the cheek, and the happy couple leaves for home.

Mum says to Dad, "I assume things went well for you."

"Oh, yes. Very. George never disappoints his wife."

"Did you give Tara something for Georgie to enjoy?"

Dad nodded, adding, "Yes. She was waiting for him when he came up, and he went right to work."

Mum responds with, "Come up with Derek and me. And rest, baby; you need to recover."

Dad asks, "You don't mind if I sit on the sidelines, Son?"

"Not al all, Dad," is my reply, taking Mum's soft hand in mine, and lead the way to their bedroom.

As we near their room, Mum leans in and whispers, "Remember, this is a different dynamic. I am his gift to you tonight, and your father is only here to witness our enjoyment. He will take care of me later."

My Dad goes directly to the chair next to the bed, and peels off his clothes, obviously anticipating our mating. Mum unbuttons my shirt, the only article remaining, other than my socks. I eagerly unbutton her filmy blouse, slipping it from her shoulders. I turn to Dad as I reach around Mum's rotund torso to release the clasps of her bra. "Thank you for this, Dad."

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