Surrogate Husband Ch. 06

April Brubaker's eyes opened and then shut as she dreamily accepted her daughter's two fingered offering of worship inside her inner sanctum. "That feels soooo good, Bobby," she said in a half whisper as she lowered her legs back upon the bed. "But I need your cock. I've got to have your cock in me or I'll die." She tugged on Becky's hair, urging "Bobby" to move up her body so he could fill her aching pussy with a hard piece of meat. But, Becky wouldn't budge.

"Hurry, Bobby," she intoned. "Quit teasing me and give me the real thing."

Becky continued fucking her mother with her two fingers as she kept up a constant pressure on the older woman's clit, her own body twisting from side to side as the passions of both women gained momentum.

Mrs. Brubaker's eyes flickered open. What was that rubbing against her leg? At first, April was a bit confused. "Bobby don't have breasts!" she cried to herself. "That's not Bobby!"

Mrs. Brubaker grabbed a second handful of hair. "That's not Bobby's hair," she told herself. "Bobby's hair has never been that long nor is it that fine." She closed her eyes once more, thinking that, perhaps, she was still dreaming.

Suddenly, Mrs. Brubaker's eyes flew open wide. "If that's not Bobby," she asked herself, "then who the hell is it?"

"Becky?" April Brubaker called out cautiously, hoping beyond hope that she wasn't being licked "down there" by her own daughter. Becky tried to talk as she continued to manipulate her mother's clit with her lips and tongue. Mrs. Brubaker, in the throes of passion, was unable to make out what the younger Brubaker woman was saying but, she was damned sure she recognized the voice.

"Get off me, Becky," she cried out. She twisted her hips and tried to buck Becky's face off of her burning, yearning, hungry nether regions but, Becky grabbed her mother by the hip and held on.

"Please, Becky!" April said. Once again, she begged her daughter. "Please, Becky," she repeated as her resistance began to rapidly fade.

Slowly, moment by moment, her resistance was entering a realm where there were no morals; where the line between right and wrong was rapidly fading. Wrong was now right and right was now wrong. With a mild whimper, Mrs. Brubaker went over to a darker side of life, giving in to her awakening hedonistic yearnings; finally realizing that her daughter had taken the last morsels of something she used to hold so dearly – her sense of morality – and shattered it beyond repair. The mold had been broken. Her transformation was almost complete.

And, April Brubaker didn't give a damn. All that mattered now was the pleasures that she would give and receive from those she held dear to her heart.

This time when Mrs. Brubaker cried out and said, "Please, Becky," she quickly added, "Don't stop, baby. I'm almost there."

If she could have seen her daughter's face at that moment, April would have seen the younger version of herself grinning as she lapped happily at an extended clitoris while sawing her fingers in and out of her honey hole.

Becky was near delirious with the knowledge that she'd been able to seduce her mother so quickly; something that she'd been planning ever since she'd been seduced by that vixen, Charlotte Mahoney.

Mrs. Brubaker squeezed her hips together and her stomach muscles tightened and relaxed over and over again as she continually thrust her mons hard against Becky's face.

Becky removed her juice slickened fingers from her mother's cunt, trailed them down to the brown, puckered ring below and quickly inserted her middle digit into April's ass.

April, taken completely by surprise, barely had time to acknowledge the invasion of her rectum before her orgasm was upon her. "Aiiiieeee-eee-eee-eee," she screamed. One more time, her hips clenched. One more time, her stomach muscles knotted painfully. And one more time, her mound bumped against Becky's face.

Her whole body went stiff, her hips suspended inches above the bed for what seemed like two eternities, quivering like she was standing naked in the midst of a Montana blizzard. Almost whispering, her, "oh, oh, oh's" stacked, one on top of the other until they became unintelligible grunts.

Then, as suddenly as it began, April's orgasm was over. Her body turned to rubber as her hips quickly fell to the bed. Her eyes rolled back in her head. Her nostrils flared with each measured breath. And her tongue lolled out the side of her open mouth.

==

Tall, slim and very athletic looking, Agent Jackson stood and walked around the side of her desk, her long, dark red hair flowing behind her and shook Bobby's hand. "Glad to put a face to the name," she told him. Setting all formality aside, she embraced Louise Chandler tightly.

"I'm so sorry, Louise," Agent Jackson said. "I didn't count on meeting you again so soon. And certainly not under these circumstances." She backed away and brushed an imaginary wrinkle from the front of her blouse before introducing herself to Grandma Lilly.

She turned back to Bobby, and assumed the manner of a stiff-lipped, no nonsense FBI agent. "It's just a formality," she told him. "Especially now that I know Louise is your mother. I'll rush this through channels. You should have your check deposited into your account within the next few days."

Bobby mumbled his thanks as the remnants of the Chandler family, almost in unison, turned to leave. "Wait a minute, Louise," Agent Jackson called out.

The trio stopped and turned back around. "I don't mean to be rude, Samuela," Louise began.

"Sam," Agent Jackson interrupted. "It's okay for you to call me Sam when I'm on duty." She smiled wanly. "Most of the agents here wouldn't know who you were talking about if you asked for Samuela."

"Sam," Louise Chandler said. "Sam it is."

Sam Jackson looked at her friend and said, "What was it you were going to tell me?'

Mrs. Chandler intertwined her fingers in front of her waist. "I don't mean to be rude, Sam. But we have a lot of things on our plate. Chief of which is to find something to eat and then check into a Motel."

"Nonsense," Samuela Jackson said with a slight wave of her hand. "About the motel, I mean." She nodded in the direction of her desk and continued. "I've couple of case files I have to go through and then I'll be done for the day. You go get yourselves something to eat and meet me back here in the parking lot around five-ish. I should be through by then. You can follow me to my house for the night."

"What about Mason?" Louise asked. "He's usually not too keen on the idea of having overnight guests."

Agent Jackson smiled broadly, stepped forward and laid her hand on Louise's shoulder. "He isn't. But, we're in luck. He's out on an overseas assignment for at least two more weeks. And, it gets awfully lonely sitting in that big ol' house all by myself." She leaned close and whispered in her friend's ear, "Besides, I get horny as hell when my husband's away for too long. And taking matters into my own hands isn't quite so fulfilling as a long, hard round of sex with another human."

Louise smiled broadly. "We'll be here around five," she told her friend.

===

Bobby gulped some tea as they waited for their food. He turned to his mother. "What was that little whispering session all about?"

Louise blushed; a light pink color covered her face. She glanced at her mother-in-law and then at Bobby. "I guess you both should know."

"Know what?" Grandma Lilly asked.

Louise Chandler cleared her throat. "Samuela, uh, Sam, and I are old friends."

"So," Bobby said quietly. "What's so secretive about that?"

Louise cleared her throat once more. "We belong to a swingers club."

"No shit?" Bobby said loud enough that the patrons at the next table interrupted their dinner and turned to look at them. The woman, a short, gray-haired woman of about seventy or so, made a distinctive clicking sound with her tongue before turning her attention back to her food.

Louise stiffened slightly. "Yes, we do. And keep your voice down."

"Wow!" was all Bobby could think to say. But this time, it was in a near whisper.

Grandma Lilly's response was even quieter. "I'll be damned."

"Anyway," Bobby's mother continued. "That's what we were doing the night your father died. Or, had been doing. After the main party began to die down, we – your dad and me and Sam and Mason - wanted to continue. So we drove on in to Prairie Town and got a motel room. They had not been gone more than thirty minutes when he died."

"What a hot woman!" Bobby said.

"I'm afraid you're left out in the cold on that one," his mother told him. She saw disappointment register on her son's face. Just as quickly, she saw his questioning eyes. "When she swings, it's almost exclusively with women. Sometimes, Mason joins in and they invite another man for a three way. But that hardly ever happens."

Grandma Lilly looked at her watch. "We better hurry," she said. "It's getting close to five."

They ate a couple more bites, got up, paid for their meal and left. Sam Jackson was already in the parking lot waiting for them when they arrived. They exchanged a few pleasantries before she got in her car and drove home. Louise and company followed close behind. Just as Agent Jackson reached her driveway, she pushed a button on the remote she had clipped to her visor. The garage door lumbered open, into the garage and motioned for Louise to pull in beside her.

"Remember," Louise cautioned her son as she turned the engine off and unbuckled her seatbelt. "Don't try to get frisky with Sam unless she makes the first move, which I doubt will happen."

"Aw, Mom," Bobby groaned.

"I mean it, Bobby. We're at her house and we're gonna respect her wishes."

===

"Plop yourself down anywhere you wish," Sam told her guests after they'd exited their vehicles and entered the house. "Anybody for a drink?" After all three Chandlers answered in the negative, she continued. "I'm going to change. Then I'll fix me a stiff drink. In the meantime, there's plenty of sandwich material in the 'fridge."

Several minutes later, Sam reappeared, a glass of brown liquid in her hand. Her long, flowing, gray terrycloth robe covered her from the neck down to about mid-calf. She sat down on the sofa between Bobby and his grandmother, opened her legs so that Louise, sitting in a recliner opposite the sofa could see a neon pink patch of silk between her legs. Then she spread them even wider.

"My god," Louise thought. "I think she's trying to tell me something."

Across the small room, Samuela Jackson was having similar thoughts. "Hope she gets the hint," she said to herself as she lifted her glass toward Bobby's mother, smiled, and then took a sip.

At that moment, Bobby was not very successful at stifling a yawn. "Sorry," he said.

Agent Jackson was quick to apologize. "Sorry. I should have figured you were tired." She nodded to her left. "There are three bedrooms down the hallway. The last one is mine. The other two are up for grabs."

"Sounds good to me," Bobby told her as he yawned again. "Think I'll take advantage of your offer and jump into the first one I come to." He stood and left the room.

Sam turned to Grandma Lilly. "You can have the other one," she said. "It only has a twin, so. . ." She looked at Louise and winked. "Any objections to bunking with me, Louise?"

Louise Chandler, still mesmerized by the neon pink that was staring at her so blatantly from beneath Sam's robe, was slow to respond. "Uh. . ., yeah. Sure," she mumbled, not taking her eyes off the brightly colored triangle between her friend's legs.

Grandma Lilly, the next one to announce her intentions of retiring for the night, stumbled sleepily towards a waiting bedroom.

Samuela smiled at Louise and patted the sofa cushion beside her. "I guess that leaves just the two of us," she said. "Why don't you come over here and keep this lonely old woman company."

"Lonely, my ass," Louise said. "You're just horny, that's all." After standing, she stretched and then walked over to the sofa and sat down beside her friend. Samuela Jackson, eyes laden with desire, leaned in and kissed Louise Chandler just below her ear.

Shards of hot, scalding, mind-burning lust surged outward from the pit of Louise's stomach to every cell in her body, causing her to shiver almost uncontrollably. She arched her neck and whimpered as Sam trailed her tongue down the side of Louise's neck to her exposed collarbone.

Bobby's mother turned. Her mouth bumped softly against Sam's as they hugged each other close. Lips opened and tongues collided in a frenzied attempt to gain dominance; one oral digit over the other. Louise pulled her tongue back inside her mouth, allowing her friend, the FBI agent, to take control.

Sam, now on the offensive, thrust her tongue forward, through yearning, quivering lips and past Louise's teeth, deep inside her grieving friend's mouth. She could feel the pressure building as Louise tried to suck her tongue even deeper into the recesses of her oral cavity.

Anxious hands, spurred on by the rising need that saturated her entire body with a wanting that could no longer be denied, reached for the buttons on Louise's blouse. Feverishly, they went from button to button, popping one after the other from its anchor until the last one was set free.

Louise, still joined at the mouth with Sam, raised her arms and allowed her blouse to be removed from her burning body. Sam broke the air-tight seal and breathed deeply as her eyes feasted on her friend's heaving breasts that were covered with a white, lace-around-the-edges, near transparent half bra. Louise unhooked the front clasp and let it slide down her arms before tossing it to the floor. Sam's hot breath on her breasts was like giving wine to a drunkard. Intoxicating.

Sam sucked a nipple into her mouth as she slowly and gently pushed on Louise's shoulders until she was lying on her back. She teased the rubbery like appendage with rapid flicks of her tongue. Louise held her friend's head in place and groaned lustily as she attempted to shove her tit flesh into Sam's throat.

Samuela Jackson's hands moved to the waistband of Louise Chandler's skirt. Together, the two women managed to get it off and onto the floor in near record time.

"You look so sexy," Sam told her friend, "laying there wearing white granny panties and your legs spread wide."

Louise wiggled seductively on the sofa. "Not nearly as sexy as the view you kept giving me," she said.

Samuela stood and began disrobing. Louise's desire and passion continued to build as each article of clothing was removed. Finally, the panties were all that was left on Sam's bronzed, athletic body. She moved forward and straddled Louise's upper body.

Louise, seeing Sam slowly squatting over her, grabbed her friend by the hips and pulled her forward until her face was buried in Sam's neon pink panties. The smell of Sam's essence tantalized her olfactory nerves as it wafted up her nose. Her sense of smell translated itself into an overwhelming desire to taste what lay on the other side of that bright pink strip of cloth.

Bobby's mother pressed the flatness of her tongue hard against Sam's wet panties and drug it over her mound. Her head bobbed as if she were answering someone's question with a nod as her tongue made trip after trip along the outside of her friend's panty covered mound.

Unable to reign in her emotions, Sam's need for more stimulation made her reach inside the leg band and pull the gusset of that neon pink barrier to the side. She shuddered and emitted a sharp, passionate cry when she felt the first touch of Louise's talented tongue against her blood engorged lips.

Louise pulled Sam's panties down and off and dropped them on the floor then, immersed herself in the selfless act of cunnilingus. She wrapped her lips around Sam's clit, and flicked her tongue across the end; up and down and from side to side. Sometimes she would simply apply a bit of suction and drag that nubbin of desirous female flesh as far between her lips as possible, then let it slowly slide back between her lips. Never letting it slip completely free from her warm, wet embrace.

Sam knew the end was near. Somewhat disappointed that her orgasm would be upon her so soon, she reluctantly backed away from Louise's face, knee-walked down the sofa until she had a clear view of her friend's wet grannie panties.

Not bothering with preliminaries, Sam ran her fingers in one leg hole and out the other. Making a fist, she twisted and pulled on the gusset until the fabric began to rip. She tugged even harder and the shiny material split in two; from the left leg hole all the way to the top. The elastic bands seemed to tear easier than the material itself. She tugged again and what remained of the panties began to slide down Louise's thigh.

Sam let the tattered undergarment dangle from Louise's knee and quickly lowered her face into her friend's hungry quim.

Louise, moaning in anticipation, lifted her hairy mound as high as was physically possible. She waited impatiently for that first contact with her lover's mouth, her hips quivering mightily as she struggled to maintain her position.

Finally, it came. A wet, warm sensation that sent her senses reeling and turned her mind inside out. She grunted loudly; a guttural sound that came from deep within her soul. Her hips jerked and her vaginal lips twitched as lightning bolts of pure, unadulterated lust surged from her brain, down her spine and into her clit. Louise Chandler's world had been reduced to the one area of her body that was giving her the most pleasure; her pussy. Her wet, hot-as-the-fires-of-hades cunt.

Bobby and Grandma Lilly, each in their own beds both awoke at the same moment when the sound of Louise's grunting cries brought them abruptly out of a deep sleep. Together, they quickly walked down the hallway and back into the living room, stopping about a foot from the sofa.

Grandma Lilly, wearing her light, almost see through peignoir, immediately went to her knees and kissed her daughter-in-law passionately. Both mouths opened almost simultaneously, tongues darting to and fro; trying to gain entrance. Her hand went to Louise's breast.

Louise Chandler, already nearing a stage of madness where each new sensation, multiplied a thousand times over, manifested itself at the very core of her sexual world – her clit, was beyond the point of recognition. She knew not that it was her mother-in-law. Nor did she care. All that mattered was the impending orgasm that was threatening to make its presence known in a matter of seconds.

Bobby, despite what his mother had told him earlier about Sam's preference for women when her husband wasn't around, shucked his boxer briefs and knelt on the floor near the FBI agent's backside. Tentatively, fearing rebuke at any moment, he began kneading her butt cheeks, the only part of her body that had any measurable amount of flab on it.

Samuela had been grinding her mound against the sofa in order to maintain a certain level of arousal while she continued pleasuring Louise. Bobby's touch, though startling, was not enough to make her turn her head to see who was touching her in such an intimate way. Sam, like Louise, welcomed the added sensation; so much so that she began to grind her clit even harder into that soft, leathery surface.

Bobby, emboldened by Samuela's acceptance of his touch, placed a hand on her side, just above the swell of her hip, and urged her to her knees.

Seconds later and Bobby was on his knees behind Sam Jackson, spreading her butt cheeks wide. He inserted his middle finger into her juicing honey hole just long enough to get it well lubricated. Then he pulled it out and used it to massage wrinkled brown star.

Sam tensed. She knew that her husband was not there and she could see Louise and Louise's mother-in-law. It had to be young Bobby Chandler that was introducing her to yet another mind-blowing sensation.