Slut Son Ch. 12 - Three Heats

Disclaimer

All characters are 18 years of age or older, of sound mind, and able to consent. Any characters, or situations, depicting real-life people or events are purely coincidental. This story contains strong sexual themes, including: unrealistic anatomy, fellatio, cunnilingus, exaggerated volumes of male and female ejaculate, distended abdomens, anal and vaginal penetration, and unprotected sex without resulting in pregnancy or disease. This literary work is for entertainment purposes only and should not be used as justification for the pursuit of acting out any fantasies or fetishes reflected in this story. Please...enjoy yourself.

******

♫ Previously on Slut Son ♫

After weeks of being away from her sister's house, Brigit returned intent on engaging in an endless copulation-fest with her sister, Candice, and hung nephew, Simon. To her disappointment, it appeared the Memphis house was completely empty upon her arrival. Resolved to make herself at home, Brigit quickly discovered that her stud nephew was fast asleep in his room. Whipping up some quick preparations, Brigit returned to Simon's room with a warm bottle of coconut oil and drenched their bodies in the slippery solution. After sending her nephew over the edge, Simon once again declared himself an incest loving male slut and covered them both in blasts of thick spunk. Now, Simon's running acquaintance Evita Juarez, and her friends, have Simon in their sights for a little friendly competition. Luckily, this contest only has winners.

Chapter 12 - Three Heats

"Fat chance," a mature brunette said to a very toned Puerto Rican milf who was being penetrated by a terrifyingly large phallus. "Good luck keeping your daughter..."

"My daughter," the Puerto Rican mother interrupted, "nnngh wouldn't know what to do with this."

Three eighteen-year-old friends face-timed with each other and viewed a short video sent by their leader, Evita Juarez.

"I can't believe the nerve of my mother. I wouldn't know what to do? Look at her! She can barely take it!" Evita complained loudly and sharply to her friends on the call.

"I can't believe you recorded your mother having sex," replied one of the other girls on the call. Solenne Garcia was a young Puerto Rican girl like Evita. Once a very disciplined gymnast, but the absence of regular physical activity, combined with her continued high caloric diet, caused her to gain a considerable amount of weight. However, she found that her fat tits and large ass made her all the more alluring. "I think it's weird, but she's not my mother so I'm enjoying watching this guy's dick wreck her cunt. No offense." Solenne added when she noticed the grimace on Evita's face.

"I'm sure your mom was just caught up in the moment." The third teen attempted to defend the milf's lewd comment. Michelle Lewe was a very fit and accomplished cross-country runner. She had fair skin, bright strawberry-blonde hair and a cute face peppered with freckles. "I mean, I don't think any of our mothers really see us as women."

"Not sexual women at least." Solenne commented. "You should find this guy, and rub it in your mom's face. But again, I think that's weird."

"How would you find him?" Michelle wondered. "He's masked, so probably the other women there don't even know who he is. And if you ask your mom, 'hey, who's this guy you're having sex with?' You'd have to admit spying on her. And I'm willing to bet that's not going to put her in the divulging mood."

"Ugh. God Michelle. I was just kidding." Solenne replied, rolling her eyes.

"Actually," Evita started, "that's a great suggestion Michelle. I may not know who 'this' is, but I've got my eye on someone just as hot."

"Your neighbor?" Solenne asked.

"Mmm hmm." Evita answered with a smile growing on her face.

"Come on Evita, let me get in on this. You said he was huge right? Bursting out of his shorts?" Solenne pleaded.

"I better be there too." Michelle said timidly. "To make sure everyone is alright."

"You two aren't gonna let me have this one huh?" Evita playfully acted annoyed. "Fine. You guys can be here when it goes down."

"Yeah girl!" Solenne shouted.

"Do you think he's gentle?" Michelle wondered.

"And you know girls," Evita posed with a very mysterious tone, "it might be time to finally hold that competition we always talked about.

"Ha ha," Solenne laughed. "You don't scare me. We're in!"

"Sigh. I just want a guy who'll eat my pussy." Michelle responded.

***

An unexpected cool breeze swept through the coastal town of Ocean View and provided a much needed respite from the sweltering heat and the disgustingly heavy humidity. Residents and tourists alike appeared more active throughout the town as more people were walking the parks and trails, every available seating outdoors was occupied, and the overall mood of everyone affected had greatly improved. And no one's mood was higher on that beautiful sunny day, than local eighteen year old track star Evita Juarez.

Evita was a stunning Puerto Rican beauty; with beautiful naturally bronzed skin, wavy jet black hair, dark brown eyes, dimples when she flashed her bright smile, and the tightest body ever sculpted on a female athlete. Her long slender legs made up most of her height, her toned stomach accentuated her low body fat percentage, and her breasts remained perky and upright whether they had the support of a sports bra or not. Evita's most alluring attribute had to be her dense bubble-butt that could have acted as a shelf at the base of her spine. Even under leggings, the musculature separating her maximus from her thigh was undeniably outlined. The hypnotic ability of her posterior has entranced both women and men alike.

While the unusually paradisiacal weather certainly elevated Evita's already cheery disposition, it was hardly the sole cause. While jogging around her neighborhood, she would often catch glimpses of another running enthusiast who sported nothing more than his running shoes and very tight compression shorts. He had introduced himself as Simon to Evita, and the rivers of sweat running down the V-shaped trenches of his lower abdomen made it impossible for Evita not to draw her eyes to the outlined monstrosity stuffed into his shorts.

A normal interaction for Evita was to be constantly hit on, especially when approached while wearing suggestive jogging clothes herself; which she often liked to do. However, Simon never took it any further than passing friendly chit-chat. Never inappropriate or dismissive, but once he was done with his normal pleasantries he would be off to continue his jog. A welcomed change of pace for Evita, but always in the back of her mind, 'figures, the one guy I want to hit on me.'

Beep beep...beep beep...beep beep!

Evita slowed her running pace to answer an incoming call on her smartwatch, and tapped her left earbud.

"Have you seen him yet?" A voice blared through Evita's earpiece. She grimaced at the sound of her friend's obnoxious tone.

Solenne Garcia, a once promising gymnast turned lounge enthusiast, was one of Evita's closest friends. Eighteen and Puerto Rican as well, she had slightly lighter colored caramel skin than Evita and was a few inches shorter. And an indulgence in snack foods had evenly distributed additional weight around her hips, thighs, and bust. The weight gain depressed Solenne at first, but was quickly justified with a, "guys are always into thick chicks," explanation. Solenne and Evita had been through nearly everything together. And moreso, had confessed every secret and hidden thought to one another. And Evita's constant bragging and boasting about her multiple interactions with the "hot guy" in her neighborhood only served to frustrate Solenne.

"No." Evita replied sharply. "I told you, I'll let you know."

"Maybe you missed him. That fat ass of yours is slowing you down." Solenne shot back.

"Don't be mean." The faint voice of another girl could be heard over Solenne's phone.

Michelle Lewe, a beautiful strawberry-blonde girl, acted as the conscience of the group despite only being eighteen herself. Michelle had become very close friends with Evita when she had joined the track team. However, whereas Evita excelled in short and middle distance, Michelle was an accomplished and champion cross-country runner. She was the tallest of the group but also the thinnest. Her small breasts were barely considered a "hand full," her face and chest were lightly peppered with freckles, and most astonishingly, her creamy pale skin seemed to never lose its pure velvety softness.

"Shut the fuck up." Solenne huffed under her breath. "Pick up the pace Evita. Don't lose this guy." Solenne barked.

"I'm not getting all sweaty. Last thing I need is to bring him back to the house, and then you and Michelle have your way with him while I'm in the shower." Evita returned her friend's sharp tone as she continued her trek around the neighborhood. To better lure in her prey Evita paraded around in a black and pink running top and a pair of elastic shorts she had pulled up onto her hips until her ass cheeks had become completely exposed.

"Excuse me," Solenne replied sarcastically. "You were the one who said you see him all the time."

"I did." Evita said. "He was training for some event and he was out here every single day."

"Like I said, maybe you missed him." Solenne repeated, but a little softer.

"I haven't missed him." Evita replied, not even sure if it was true. "I actually came out a little early to..." Evita had rounded a corner on the sidewalk when, "oophf!"

A large figure who was taking a leisurely stroll around the circle braced himself as a perky Puerto Rican beauty nearly crashed into his chest.

"Grunt! Whoa! Are you okay?" The man had grabbed Evita by her upper arms to stabilize her.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" A flustered Evita apologized over and over again. "I was talking to a friend, I got her voice ringing in my ear, and..." Evita paused and her eyes widened when she realized who she had run into. "Simon? Oh my goodness, it's you!"

"So you found him huh?" Solenne spoke softly over the phone. Evita frowned for a split-second, and raised her left hand to end the call when Solenne anticipated her friend's reaction. "Don't you dare hang up on me. I wanna hear how you get this gorilla back to your place."

"Haha! Yeah it's me." Simon replied. "Seriously Evita, are you okay?"

"Yeah. Did you hit your head? Is your pussy on fire?" Solenne continued to tease.

"Shut it...uh, sorry. No. I mean, I'm fine." Evita struggled to block out Solenne's ragging. "Sorry, I just uh...really wasn't expecting to run into you. Literally, haha." Evita regained her balance, but remained just inches from Simon's radiating body. She had lifted both hands and placed them lightly on his broad bare chest. "You're...not sweaty. Did you just start?"

"Hmm? Oh yeah. Probably ten minutes ago. But actually I've just been walking. Felt like such a nice day out, and I could really use a break from my regular routine."

The two runners stood there for a moment, mooning at one another, until Simon finally spoke again.

"Well, Evita, I know you're a serious runner so I won't hold you up. I'll let you get back to it." Simon offered with a bright smile and stepped to the side of the walkway to let Evita pass.

'And just like that, he's done talking to me. How the hell am I going to get him back to my house?' Evita frantically thought.

Simon had begun walking when Evita called out before missing her chance. "Hey Simon!" He stopped and turned. "I'm not really feeling a serious run today. Would you like to just, I dunno...hang out? At my place?"

"You gotta work that body girl." Solenne chimed in. "Make it impossible to say 'no'."

Evita cupped her left arm underneath her modest bust--that was already sitting quite high--and swayed side-to-side. 'Good Lord. Too obvious. But all guys think with their dick. And judging by the size of his, that's the only part of him that can think.'

"You just said you could use a break. And today is the perfect day for that." Simon's hard swallow did not go unnoticed by Evita. She had mistook it for nervousness, but in reality he was trying to hide that he was salivating over her tight figure. "Have you ever had a Switcha? Trust me, you'll love it."

"I haven't actually, but I'm up for anything." Simon replied with another bright smile.

"Jackpot." Solenne shouted over the phone before Evita quickly tapped the left earbud to end the call..

***

Evita and Simon walked side-by-side back to her house. It was a short walk but they used that time to talk about the various athletic events they participated in. Evita had placed first in several regional events, and when she asked Simon about his race, he replied by describing his performance as "an embarrassing failure."

"Oh I'm sure it wasn't that bad." Evita replied encouragingly.

"I literally dry-heaved at the finish line. Probably would have thrown-up if there was anything in my stomach." Simon hung his head as he re-lived that moment. "Oh well. I did it for Kelli and I'm glad it's over."

"Kelli? Your girlfriend?" Evita's voice was soft and timid.

"Huh? No no no. She's my boss actually." Simon explained when he looked down at Evita's cute face. "She was having trouble getting participants, so I agreed without really knowing what a rucksack race was."

Evita hooked her right arm around Simon's left and pulled herself close to his muscular body. "You did a nice thing for a friend. You're a good guy."

Simon lightly squeezed Evita's arm. "Or I have a hard time saying no to women."

'I'm counting on that.' Evita thought.

When the two fit runners had arrived at Evita's house, she led Simon to the rear of the house that had an entrance to her finished basement. When she opened the door, she dropped a bombshell for him.

"Sorry I didn't mention this before, but a couple of my friends are already here. It's kind of the hangout spot for my girl friends." Evita explained with a smirk. "I hope you don't mind."

"Nope. Not at all." Simon replied, not even remotely understanding what it would mean for him.

***

"Hey guys! I brought a friend." Evita alerted Solenne and Michelle as she descended the basement steps with her handsome escort in tow.

When Simon first entered the basement, he stared wide-eyed at the two additional beauties lounging on their friend's large sectional; desperately trying to hide the fact that they were eagerly awaiting his arrival. His eyes were first drawn to a thicc dark haired beauty lying on her side on the middle section. She had on an off-white t-shirt with a local surf shop's logo on the front. The shirt was probably not meant to have a plunging neckline, but her large heavy breasts stretched the top so much that it exposed more than six inches of creamy caramel cleavage. A simple pair of black shorts was the only other observable piece of clothing she wore.

"Oh? Who have you brought home for us?" Solenne asked, trying to sound surprised.

"Everyone, this is my neighbor Simon. Simon, that's Solenne, and Michelle."

Simon then looked over at the girl at the far end of the sectional. She was a thin, yet overwhelmingly cute, strawberry-blonde girl sitting in an innocent pose with her legs tucked under her. Her hair was pulled into a pony-tail that hung over her right shoulder and down her chest. A micro pink bikini top covered her tiny breasts and black shorts completed her ensemble.

"So, Simon is it? Thanks for putting on a shirt before coming over." Solenne had always put on a strong front for new people.

"Umm, sorry. I didn't know I was..." Simon answered, sounding confused more than anything.

"Don't mind her. She got crass when she got fat." Evita teased, defending her new guest.

"Yeah? Fuck you!" Solenne spat. Addressing Simon, "I was a gymnast. A damn good one too. But it became too demanding so I quit. And I didn't feel like working out anymore."

Simon made no attempt to judge. "I totally get that," he replied, trying to sound sympathetic. "I recently finished a tough event myself, and I'm in no hurry to work out that intensely again."

"Yeah. You've really let yourself go." Solenne smirked.

"So is that, like, your hobby then?" Michelle piped up.

"Working out?" Simon clarified. "No. I work out just enough to look 'good'. But no, I would not say it's a hobby."

"And what do you want to look good for?" Michelle asked with her sweet and innocent sounding voice.

"Might as well have a seat and get comfortable." Evita offered. "I'll get you that drink."

"Here!" Michelle said, patting the cushion next to her.

"Thank you." As Simon sat, his right arm brushed against Michelle. 'Her skin!? She's like...like, velvet.'

'Fuck he's so hot.' Michelle thought as she bit her bottom lip. 'Evita was right, he is impressive. If he eats pussy, then he's perfect!'

Simon smiled at Michelle and gazed into her eyes as he answered her question. "I dunno. Look good, feel good. I guess." He shrugged. "I suppose my motivation isn't too different from everyone else's really. The better I look, the more attractive I feel."

"Uh huh." Solenne interjected sarcastically. "It's so you can hook up with a ton of girls, right?" Simon had blushed, showing his hand, and that did not go unnoticed by Solenne. 'My god, this guy is so easy,' she thought as she was becoming exponentially excited.

"Stop!" Michelle summoned her courage and placed her left hand on his right leg and squeezed his thigh. 'Mmmmm, completely solid. Just like the rest of him is about to be.' "She's just trying to get a rise out of you."

"I was just teasing him." Solenne added after smiling an evil grin. "Look at him, he's tough. He can handle it."

'Leave it to Solenne to scare a guy away. Huge tits and no tact. Perhaps super sweet is more his taste.' "So, Simon?" Michelle started again in her girlish voice. "Would you say you get a lot of attention then?"

Simon laughed at some unknown thought in his head. "A fair amount, sure. But I can be pretty oblivious. If I'm being completely honest, I'm kind of...trashy. "

'How trashy?' Solene and Michelle thought in unison.

"But I bet a girl has to be super hot to get your attention, right?" Michelle pressed as she scooted closer to Simon, practically sitting on his lap. 'My pussy is getting so hot.'

"All women have something that makes them beautiful." Simon replied, trying to play it safe. "Whether it's a tight athletic figure, a pair of impressive breasts stretching a tee, or the most incredible velvety soft skin." He put a strong arm around Michelle and lowered his next to her ear, making sure to take long deep breaths. "You smell intoxicating, by the way." He whispered.

'Fuck me I'm so turned on right now!' Michelle gleefully squealed in her head as her breathing became louder and harder.

The die was cast. With such an obvious flirtatious move, it was clear that all parties in Evita's basement were after the same thing. For Evita and her friends, it was time to execute their plan.

"Simon, you seem like a pretty cool guy. Do you mind if I ask," at Evita's inquiry Simon lifted his head from Michelle's neck and focused his attention on his beautiful Puerto Rican hostess. "Have you ever gone down on a girl?" Simon inhaled to gather the air to answer her question. He was excited to do so when, "if Michelle wasn't busy biting her lip and rubbing her thighs together, she would have asked you herself."

Simon returned his gaze to the fair strawberry-blonde, and in doing so it caused his downfall. Her bright green eyes appeared to have mysteriously tripled in size. Her stare pierced him, body and soul, and in that moment he gained three new mistresses that he would inexplicably obey and strive to satisfy. "May I?"