The Matrons of Regal Bay Ch. 55

"Okay, I'll leave you be, tonight," Johnny grinned. "But you owe me, double, this weekend!"

Pamela gave her son a quick flash of her breasts, unencumbered by a bra, by lifting her Seattle Seahawks Super Bowl t-shirt up. She dropped it and teased, "There you go, doubled up!"

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," Johnny laughed. He then stepped into her bedroom and closed the door behind him. "I was actually thinking that maybe, since you and Freddy have already done it, that you'd like a three-way?"

Pamela sat her book in her lap and gave her son a lingering look. "I've never thought you'd be up for anything like that, Johnny," she replied with a soft voice. "I've never really thought about it, either."

"Freddy was asking that, maybe, you know..." Johnny shrugged his shoulders. "I actually think he misses you, now that we've been getting on and all."

Pamela shook her head, not really believing that a young man like Freddy, who had only recently been able to break down the incestuous wall between his mother and himself, still would desire her. Hell, she still couldn't come to the reality that she was fucking her own son on something of a regular basis.

"Maybe I'll think about it, okay?" she finally replied.

Johnny grinned. "I don't mind, either way. But he seems to think that I might want a shot at his mom, since you and him...well, you know."

"Do you?" Pamela asked him.

Johnny looked at her, as if gaging her reaction to what he might say. Finally, he nodded. "I think I'd like to, yes. But I'd want you there, too."

Pamela laughed. "Oh, another form of three-way?"

"Well, Mom, maybe a four way? You know. Maybe you and me, and Freddy and his mom, maybe we all could get together and have fun. That's what I was thinking, anyway. I haven't brought it up with Freddy, though."

Pamela thought on it for a moment, and then said, "Sure, why not? I'd like to see my son fucking another old broad like me. And maybe I miss Freddy a little, also." She felt herself beginning to tingle just thinking about it. "A pair of old broads swapping sons, now that's an idea. Do you really think Ursula would go for something like that? Does she even know about you and I? I'd bet she doesn't."

"I guess I'm kind of leaving that part to you," Johnny grinned.

Pamela sat motionless for a time, and then leaning towards the nightstand, she said, "Maybe I'll give her a call now. Just to see if she'd like to get together and talk." She retrieved her cell phone and while dialing she told her son, "If you're going out, get going."

Johnny stepped over, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and was gone before Ursula answered.

***

It would be another two days before Johnny and Pamela were alone long enough to talk. As it turned out, Johnny and his mother found themselves in the kitchen as Pamela worked on fixing a large pot of chili. Johnny had been sitting with his father in the living room watching a baseball game on ESPN when he grew board and went looking for his mother.

"Something smells good," Johnny said as he slipped in through the door. It swung shut behind him with a soft thump.

"You always say that about my chili, Johnny," she grinned at her son over her shoulder. She stood at the stove stirring in a fresh cup full of mixed spices, he special blend. Johnny stepped up close behind her and laid his chin on her left shoulder while sliding his hands around to circle her waist.

"Do you think you're making enough?" he asked, noting that she had their large stewing pot nearly full of the aromatic chili. "That'll last us a month."

Pamela turned in her son's arms and replied, "If you remember, your aunt and uncle are coming in this week, and Larry asked for chili, enough to take a pot of left-overs on the road with them after they visit. And I won't have another evening free this week to take the time, so I thought I'd just go ahead and make a big pot now. Does that satisfy your curiosity, young man?" She gave him a quick peck on the mouth and then turned back to face the stove. Johnny's hands remained around her waist, however.

"I completely forgot they were coming down," Johnny admitted. He gave her a quick kiss on the side of her neck and then moved to sit down at the table.

"Helen called this morning," Pamela continued. "She said that they were heading out early, and that they'll be here Wednesday sometime. I told her I've got work and you've got school, but George would be here all day."

"Did she say how long they would be staying?"

"No, but I'd guess at least through Saturday, maybe." Pamela gave the chili one last stir and then placed the stainless-steel lid on top. Wiping her hands on a dish towel, she went to the sink counter and turned on the water. She dropped the cups and utensils into the sink that she'd been using and then turned to look at her son.

"I talked to Ursula yesterday," Pamela said after a moment. Johnny's eyes went to hers and she saw expectancy in them. "I came clean with her, about Freddy and me, and you and me. She asked flat out why I was telling her all of this, and I had to tell her that I knew about her and Freddy. That, I think, pissed her off. I think Ursula is one of the quiet, personal types that doesn't like her secrets to be told. I think us knowing about her and Freddy really upset her. And I think she isn't all that keen on any group thing, either, not the way she sounded when I hung up. I might have screwed up any shot you might have had to get into her bed, Johnny."

Johnny replied with a shrug. "It's not the end of the world. I've still got my own mother to go to bed with!" Johnny reached out to playfully tug at her skirt.

"It sounds so naughty when you say it like that," she grinned, and then she flashed some high thigh his way before she brushed his hand away. She went back to the stove and gave the chili a quick stir before turning the heat down. Johnny took the opportunity as his mother stood right next to him to lift her sweater upward, and then unfasten her skirt at the back.

"Johnny!" she gasped as she tried to catch her skirt, but he had already tugged it downward, leaving her standing at the stove in her black underwear. She turned to face him, giving her sweater a pull to hide her near-nakedness from the waist down. "Jeezus, Johnny! Your father's ten feet away!" She gave the closed kitchen door a glance.

"It's more like twenty feet, Mom," Johnny grinned. He reached for her hips and pulled her a step closer. He looked up at her face and she saw the building lust in his eyes.

"We can't, not here," she insisted. "Your father could roll in here any minute." Johnny's hands had slipped to her bottom and he was caressing the soft flesh of her hips and back-side. Her skin tingled under her son's touch. It had been only a few days since they'd been intimate, but to Pamela it seemed much, much longer.

"Dad's busy watching baseball. In fact, last I saw, he was nodding off. He's probably asleep now." As he explained this to his mother, Johnny worked his hands around to her front and pushed up her belly to cup her bra-encased breasts beneath her sweater. He could see her reluctance melting away by the moment.

"We're going to get caught," she warned, and yet lifted her arms upward. Johnny took hold of the grey sweater and pulled it up and off her, leaving his mother standing before him in just her black underwear. "Oh, Johnny, we're going to get caught!" she repeated, though in a soft voice that held nothing but lust in the words. They'd been playing with fire for many weeks, though usually they took more care.

As he ran his hands down his mother's body, he tickled her at the points where her breast flesh rolled into her sides. Pamela had never realized just how ticklish she was, especially around the outer edges of her breasts and high on her inner thighs, not until Johnny discovered it with his tongue. She giggled loudly, and then shockingly looked to the kitchen door once again, fearful that her husband would investigate.

"Johnny, please," she hissed as a warning.

"Okay," her son replied excitedly, and then tugged one bra cup down to release his mother's nipple.

As his mouth latched onto it, Pamela muttered, "That's not what I meant," though she didn't push him away. Johnny pulled her closer until she was straddling him in the chair and her belly pressed into his upper chest. His hands were on her butt again, digging into her flesh beneath the panties. His mouth left her left nipple and she assisted him in releasing her right. This he latched onto as well, giving it an equal dose of tongue flicking and hard suckling.

After just a few moments of this play, Pamela is more willing to take chances. She lowered her hips until she sat in Johnny's lap and pulled his mouth from her tit to her lips. She kissed her son deeply, with all the passion and sin expected of mother and son. She felt his strong manhood pressing hard into her pubic mound and she knew that she had to have it inside her, and soon.

Johnny suddenly took hold of her by the hip and lifted her in his arms. "Whoa!" Pamela gasped as Johnny picked her up and carried her to the counter beside the sink. She was not light, she knew, although she had been working on her weight since she and Johnny had begun their affair. She would never be a pixie, it just wasn't in her genes. She wanted to look good for her son, but knew that it was all in her mind. Both he and Freddy had never complained, nor would they. It was her own vanity that had Pamela joining some of her friends in the gym off and on during the week.

Pamela settled on the counter and Johnny slid a chair up to sit in. It was obvious to her what he had in mind, though she still had to ask, "What do you think you are doing, young man?" When Johnny pushed her knees far apart and scooted between them, there was no question. Nor did he answer with anything other than a villainous grin and a swing of his tongue across his lips. Johnny then leaned forward and planted his mouth to his mother's crotch where he began to gently chew upon her through her panties.

"Oh, sweet Jeezus, Johnny! That's so good," Pamela sighed as her son's mouth worked on her sex. She pushed his head back a moment later and tugged her panties aside. "These are new," she told him as he took in the sight of her naked sex flesh. Johnny then planted his mouth to her and began to lap away noisily, making her giggle and moan.

"Oooohhh, Johnnnnyyyyy!" she gasped louder than she had hoped, fighting back a squeal as her son brought her to a quick, sharp orgasm with his mouth and tongue. He'd only been between her thighs a little more than a minute and already she was creaming.

"Hey, John! Bring me another beer!" George called from the living room.

"Johnny, please! It's your father!" Pamela hissed, pushing his face from her crotch. "He's coming!"

Johnny laughed. "So are you!" he said as he spun out of the chair and reached for the refrigerator door. In that moment, the kitchen door banged open and George pushed in. Pamela gasped and lifted her knees up to her chest, just avoiding being hit by the door as it swung her way.

"Where's that beer, John?" George asked as he wheeled his manual chair part way into the kitchen. As luck would have it, the kitchen door swung inward, to the opposite side of the refrigerator. Pamela sat stone still and absolutely silent, her knees drawn up to her chest, behind the door on the counter. Johnny, at the refrigerator, had his father's attention.

"Here you go, Dad," Johnny said, handing one of his father's favored Olympia's to him. George took it and set it in his lap.

As he started to pull back, George asked, "Where'd your mother go? I thought she was cooking dinner?"

"Oh, well," Johnny stammered, unable to glance at her behind the door. "She had to run to the store. She forgot something. I'm keeping an eye on the chili."

"Damnit! I wish she'd have said something. I wanted her to pick me up some beer brats and sausages. I want to barbeque for you aunt and uncle, when they come in. Show that over-bearing sister of mine that I'm still good for something around here."

"Dad, don't talk like that, okay?" Johnny insisted. "Aunt Helen's been like that long before you got hurt."

"Just be glad you don't have an older sister, boy!" George laughed. "The bitch! Give me the chance and I'll turn her over my knee, like Daddy used to do." George pushed back out of the kitchen then, Johnny followed.

"I'll text mom, let her know to pick up the brats and sausages, okay?"

George looked to him and shook his head. "Damn, I forgot you could do shit like that nowadays. Ain't like it used to be, boy. Ain't like it used to be." Johnny returned to the kitchen only after he made sure his father was back in front of the television.

"God-damnit, Johnny! That was close!" Pamela huffed softly as her son rejoined her in the kitchen.

Johnny took her in his arms and pulled her close. He kissed her before saying, "Now we've got plenty of time." Again, they kissed. This time, when their lips broke apart, Pamela began to kiss downward. She pushed her son's t-shirt up and kissed each of his nipples, adding a curling tongue bath to each as Johnny pulled his shirt off completely, tossing it to the chair where his mother's sweater lay. How his father hadn't noticed he had no idea. The sweater, or her skirt lying on the floor in front of the stove.

"We're going to get caught," she again told her son, though between kisses on his neck and chest. With her breasts still hanging out of the top of her bra, Pamela cupped each in hand and stroked her nipples against her son's naked torso. The contact made her tingle and she continued to work her mouth down her son's body a moment later.

"We're going to get caught," she again says, even as she settled to her knees on her discarded skirt before him. Her face was now level with the bulge at the front of the navy blue sweat pants he wore. Her hands went to his hips and stroked downward, to either side of his bulge. Her eyes went up to his, and then her hands went to the waistband. She curled her fingers and took hold of both his pants and his underwear. She yanked her son's clothing down then and was rewarded with his wonderfully thick manhood waving just inches away.

Again, she muttered, "We're going to get caught," before plunging her mouth halfway down her son's shaft.

"Ooohh, mom!" Johnny sighed. Her mouth warmed his cock and he grew rock-solid within seconds. She worked his scrotum with the fingers of one hand while stroking the exposed portion of his shaft with the other, while her mouth ran up and down his length. He loved the way his mother's mouth made his cock feel and would never tire of having her suck him.

However, this was no time for a leisurely blow job. He needed to get off before his father interrupted them again. He did let his mother work his cock over for a minute longer, but pulled her mouth up and off his little master before she could get into a steady rhythm.

"What is it?" she gasped, looking towards the door fearfully as she stood up.

"It's okay," Johnny assured her. "I just want your pussy now." He turned the chair that he'd used to eat her from a few minutes earlier and took a seat. He grabbed his cock and told his mom, "Go ahead, have a seat!"

Instead of straddling her son, Pamela turned to face the kitchen door before lowering into her son's lap. Johnny guided her hips and his cock, until she felt the damp knob of his manhood press against her own damp womanhood. Her labia parted and gobbled up the familiar shaft of her son's cock.

"Oooohhh, yeessss!" she moaned as silently as she could, while giving herself over to the pleasures that washed through her each time her son penetrated her. She dropped fully into his lap, accepting every inch he had to give her, before leaning forward and lifting upward. She paused as his knob tickled her labia again, and then dropped back, taking him hard and deep. "Uuunnggghh!" she grunted. Pamela held herself in place and then gave her hips a rolling, twisting lift, before again dropping down onto him.

"Yeah, Mom! Fuck me with that hot pussy!" Johnny croaked behind her. His hands came around to her tits and he held onto them tight as she worked herself over on his ready post of hard man-flesh.

With her attention fully on the door, expecting it to open and her husband to wheel into the kitchen to catch them hot at it at any moment, Pamela still worked herself into a panting, grunting orgasm within minutes on her son's cock. It helped that he had reached down into her crotch and found her throbbing clit. Johnny had learned how to work her to maximum effect lately and she all but boiled over as her vagina exploded around Johnny's cock. She grabbed a dish clothe and screamed into it as her orgasm exploded.

"Stand up, Mom," Johnny panted into her ear, even as he lifted her. Holding her tight to him and his cock deep within her, Johnny maneuvered his mother into a leaning position. He was now able to take her from behind with longer, deeper thrusts as she leaned across the counter beside the sink once again.

Both were panting in time with their mating. Johnny's heavy balls slapped against his mother's clit with every plunge. His thighs smacked against hers loudly, and there could be no doubt in anyone's mind given the panting and moaning, and the slapping of flesh, as to what was going on in the kitchen.

"Oh! Oh, god, Mom!" Johnny began to grunt. "I'm going to cum!"

"Yeessss, baby! Yeesssss!" Pamela moaned as her son's cock began to pulse and throb wildly within her body.

"Uuunnggghh!" Johnny growled as his semen boiled over and flooded his mother's womb.

"Oooohhh, Johnnnnyyyyy!" Pamela moaned as she climaxed along with her son.

"John! Get me another beer, son!" George's voice suddenly broke into the kitchen.

"Noooo!" Pamela moaned softly. Johnny disengaged and she twisted from the counter to stand behind the door, naked and trembling through the last tremors of her latest orgasm. A warm gush of her son's semen rolled from her pussy and trickled down her inner thigh. She grabbed the dish clothe and stuffed it between her thighs just as the door banged open.

Johnny, for his part, had managed to pull his sweat pants and underwear back up just before the door had opened and his father had rolled in. George didn't notice that his son had removed his t-shirt, or if he did, he didn't say anything. "Hey, what are you doing in here? I asked for another beer."

"Sorry, Dad. I was on the phone. I didn't hear you." Johnny again pulled a fresh beer from the refrigerator and handed it to his father.

"Your mother not back yet?" George asked as he popped the can's top. He took a drink, his eyes on Johnny.

"Not yet. She did say she'd get your sausage, though. And the brats."

"I hope so," George replied. He looked towards the stove. "Damn, that smells good. Bring me a bowl as soon as it's done, will you? I'm starving out here." He took another drink from his beer, again looking up at his son. He paused, as if considering saying something else, but only told him, "And bring me another beer with it, will you? Your mom's chili always makes me thirsty." With that said, George again pushed his chair backward, though he did give the door a glance as he turned. Before it closed, Johnny saw him again look to him, and he wondered if his father was beginning to suspect something after all.

"We're going to get caught, Johnny," Pamela whispered to her son once the door had shut completely. She straightened up her underwear, tucked her breasts away, and retrieved her sweater and skirt. She couldn't put them back on, she realized. Her husband surely had noticed them this time. And she would have to go through the living room to get clean clothes to put on.

Johnny recognized his mother's dilemma and holding a single finger up, he rushed past her and skipped down stairs to his room. He brought back a pair of his sweat shorts and a crimson t-shirt with the USC Trojans logo in gold across the chest. "Here," he said, handing them to his mother. As she dressed, he ladled out a bowl full of chili for his father and retrieved another beer. "You'd better head for the store, Mom. Dad's expecting brats and sausages in the refrigerator, next time he checks. And you know he will." Johnny gave his mother a look that let her know that he was thinking the same thing she was. That they had been very close to getting caught, this time.