Tabootopia - A Nation of Incest Ch. 08

At around 1pm, the girls returned. Frankie was walking in front of the girls, his arms outstretched, shopping bags going from his armpit to his little fingers.

"Oh the girls are back," said Daniel. "And they got themselves a slave."

Frankie approached the boys with his head down. "Hi, hello, are you two Björn and Daniel?"

"I'm Daniel. Björn is the dude in the boxers that's jacking himself."

"I see, thank you. Could you please open me the door?"

"Sure thing." Daniel opened the RV door for Frankie. "Go on in. Made you their slave, did they?"

"Yes, something like that, thank you."

"Here, let me help you with those bags."

"Thank you."

Regina, Tammie and Kelly walked in after Frankie and unloaded their bags inside the RV. Then Regina called everyone together.

"Björn, Björn!?" Regina shouted. "Come inside, I got something to say."

"Wait, just need to...okay, okay, umm, I'm in."

With everyone there, Regina put her hands on Frankie's shoulders and addressed the group.

"Everyone, we've agreed to help Frankie set-up his house for a date between his mom and his boss...did I say that right?"

Kelly took a stab at explaining: "We're gonna help him prepare a meal and clean his house, so his mom and boss can have a date, which, I guess, he wants to end with...sex?"

Frankie nodded. "Yes, thank you all so much."

Björn raised his hand. "Umm, hold on. Frankie, you, umm, want your mother to have sex with your boss?"

"Yes, please."

"I'm in! I just, umm, wanted to make sure. I'm excited! Daniel?"

"Abso--friggin'--lutely we want to help! Frankie, tell us more, everything you can."

Daniel and Björn approached Frankie, taboo adrenaline rushing through their veins, both as excited as Damon Welch would've been if he stumbled onto the set of One Million Years B.C.

Björn had his hands clasped. "Tell us, umm, details, about her life as a mother, go from there, go, yes, go."

Usually calm Daniel was speaking a mile a minute: "Okay, tell us about her, how she looks, ethnicity, everything, all the details. Tell us what she's like, tell us what her life story is, tell us about her, tell us, tell us all you can!"

"Thanks so much for your help, guys. Okay, umm, where to start?"

Kelly smiled. "My Daniel is so cute when he's excited."

"He's excited about a son hooking his own mom up with cock," said Tammie.

"It's cuter when you don't say it like that...Aww, look at him...asking Frankie about his mother's underwear. Okay I'm not going to listen anymore. So, girls, can anyone here cook? Because I can't...at all."

***

Frankie's house was a cosy one-story two-bedroom bungalow, located on a hillside that overlooked much of North Gaudium. Inside, the Inter-Lovers made their preparations for the evening's dinner. The girls cleaned and made sure the house was fit for purpose, which left the boys to make the meal.

Daniel chitchatted while chopping the potatoes: "Regina's hot, so why should she learn to cook? Makes sense to me. Plus she has that teen girl metabolism, so she can eat whatever. Kelly, her mom pampered her, so she only learned the basics. Her mom probably guessed her girl would settle down with a nice boy that would take care of her...me, ahhh, it is me, isn't it? Hmmm...oh, where was I? And then there's Tammie, now Tammie can cook, but only healthy stuff, which is a no-no for Frankie's boss, Mr. Hermann. He's a total meat and potatoes man, wants his food hearty and full."

"Uh-huh," agreed Björn, the man in charge of the piping-hot oven. He spoke with sweat rolling down his face. "It's, umm, yeah, makes sense to me...Okay, it says this will cook in an hour, but I'm going for sixty-five -- no, sixty-six minutes."

In the bedroom, Tammie, Regina and Frankie were appraising the centrepiece of the room.

"Step back." Tammie hit the bed with an effortless axe kick. "Hmm, springy, solid, a little soft for my tastes. What do your mom and boss weigh?"

"Her, around one-twenty-five. Him, hmmm, two-fifty, maybe a little more."

"So around three-hundred-seventeen pounds of flesh...Yeah, this bed should handle that. Regina, can you get on your back for me?"

"Okay," Regina lay herself down on the bed.

Frankie was warming in anticipation.

"All right, let's test this." Tammie got on the bed, on her hands and knees, right on top of Regina. Tammie performed a humping motion, her vagina slamming into Regina's. "Let me just..." Tammie then accelerated her pace, the bed frame hitting the wall with a satisfying thud. "Yep, this is a good bed, it will do." Tammie stood up, grabbed Regina's hand, and pat her on the butt for a job well done.

"Thanks, babe. Good bed, Frankie. It's a single, yeah, but it's got some nice manoeuvring space, nice leg room. If it was me, I'd prefer a double, because, you know, I'm a professional, and great at this, but for your boss's needs? For sure, he can make your mom cream in this bed."

"Thank you very much," replied Frankie. "Thanks so much for your help --" he paused when he saw the girls' eyes move downward; their casual humping had given the little guy a big boner.

"For a short guy, his width is surprisingly good," Regina said coolly, as if she was examining a science subject.

Tammie nodded. "The blood to his cock just goes straight, like an arrow, straight up, no curves, no slide, nice, nice."

Frankie was sweating, his hard-on only growing more painful as the taut teen stunners heaped praise upon him, their compliments like fuel to a raging inferno.

"Thank-thank-thank --"

"Hit the showers," ordered Tammie. "Get naked, beat off, cool down, come back fresh."

"Yes, yes, thank you."

As he turned to the bathroom, Coach Tammie slapped his ass. "Come on, show some hustle! Jerk that meat, go on, go hard!"

"Yes, thank you!" Frankie dashed into the bathroom and then into the shower.

"I like him, he's cute," noted Tammie. "I feel sisterly towards him, like I would playwrestle with him in my bra and thong -- and I'd win, of course, because that's what I do: I'm a winner. Eventually creating a complex which would make him permanently attracted to strong women."

Regina nodded. "You know, you're nicer than you let on."

Tammie put her arm around Regina, laying a quick peck on her cheek. "I know...just don't tell anyone: I got a reputation to keep, don't want to become a cuddler, ohh." She shivered.

"But you're such a nice snuggle-buddy."

"Shhh! With you, yes, but with other girls? They fear me -- and they want me."

Regina looked around. "...You don't need to act tough; there's no cameras around."

"Oh, but I am tough -- ask Polly's gynaecologist."

***

A woman opened her front door, surprised to see a pretty, young girl sweeping the floor.

"Oh, hello there," said the elegant, forty-something woman. This beauty's skin was smooth and dark, her raven hair wavy, luscious and full. She was wearing a summer dress, her finer features concealed by the bright light of the evening sun.

"Hi, sorry, did I spook you?" replied Kelly. "I'm-I'm not doing anything wrong, just helping --"

The woman shook her head, speaking with an understated French accent. "Don't worry, dear: I know this is a peaceful place. I'm sure you have a good reason to be here. May I ask what it is?"

"Your son wants you to have sex with his boss," Kelly blurted out. "Oh I'm so sorry! That sounds so, uhh..."

"Perfect, I've been wanting to meet him." She went inside and shut the door. Upon entry inside the house, this beauty's true womanly curves came to light: succulently firm breasts, hypnotic hips, and a round, juicy butt. "I've heard he's such a nice man, really been good to my boy. Sorry, I've not introduced myself: I'm Venetia Beauvais, whom you correctly assumed as Frankie's mother."

"Hello, nice to meet you, I'm Kelly." She shook the woman's hand. "Wow, soft, do you moisturize? Your complexion is beautiful. I like your dress, though it would be a little more va-va-voomy if you unbuttoned a few buttons -- sorry! I sound like a pervert! I just --"

"Don't worry, dear. Thank you, you are too kind. So is this dinner soon?"

"Yes, under an hour away."

"Oh then I best get ready." Venetia went for the stairs, but then paused. "Say, Kelly, you seem like a really fashionable girl, mind helping me pick out an outfit?"

"I'd love that."

"Thank you so much. Please, come, come up the stairs -- oh, also, if you don't mind," she rubbed her hand around her vaginal region, "could you please help me trim around here? I have no clue about what's fashionable or not. I don't want to shave it all off, just a small trim. Fair warning, the area is a bit of a wilderness." She giggled. "Would that be asking too much?"

"No, I'd love to. I shave my mom all the time."

Frankie then came down the stairs, spotting his mom and Kelly going towards the bathroom.

"Nice surprise you planned," said Venetia. She kissed her son on the cheek. "How thoughtful, I'm looking very forward to it, thank you."

"Thanks, Mom. Thank you too, Kelly. You both going to the bathroom?"

"Yeah," replied Kelly. "I'm going to get naked with your mom and then shave her vagina -- do not get turned on by that!"

***

He was coming. The house could feel it. They were ready, ready for him. The house was spotless, the food prepared, the table set for his arrival. Not wanting to clutter the house, Tammie and Regina went outside to get acquainted with the garden hose, while Daniel, Kelly and Björn hid themselves in the kitchen. Frankie waited by the door, looking at his watch, knowing the exact moment his boss would arrive: Seven on the dot. It was 6:59 and 50 seconds when he came...

Knock. Knock. It begins.

Frankie rushed towards the door and opened it. "Hello, Mr. Herrmann, thank you for coming."

"It is my pleasure," he said in a thick German accent. He extended his hand and Frankie shook it; Frankie's hand was almost lost in this man's meaty paw.

Kelly, Daniel and Björn peeked from the kitchen, and gasped when they saw this white bear-like creature stamp into the house. This grizzly man was Richard Hermann. Right upon entry he took his shoes and socks off, making himself feel at home in his employee's household.

As the teens could attest, the first and most immediate trait of Richard Hermann was his imposing size: 6'5 and 255 pounds of thick granite, a body crafted by the hard daily grind he endured at his metal factory. His face also said much about him: looking all of his 55 years of age, his skin rough and covered with stubble, his hair thinning and grey -- and, most noticeably, an expression of silent might. From just one glance you could tell that this was not a man to be messed with.

So why did Frankie want his mother to have sex with this man? Simple: it was because Richard was Frankie's father figure. He was a true alpha male, a man that looked out for the boy, that trained him how to work -- and taught him how to be a man. By arranging this date, Frankie was just following his instincts as he, the boy, wanted this great man to be thanked the right way, the most honoured and sacred way a shepherding alpha male father figure should be thanked: sex with that boy's appreciative mother. This being Tabootopia, this fantasy didn't need to be hidden: it could be acted out in the open.

Richard wore a white shirt with plain blue boxer shorts. His huge thick shoulders pulled the shirt to its limits, and the shorts exposed his bulge. Only seconds had passed and yet Richard had already marked his domain. He felt comfortable, relaxed -- and then felt a surge of hot blood when he heard the coming footsteps.

Gentleman Richard stood with his hands clasped near his crotch, awaiting the woman's arrival.

"Frankie, stand straight."

"Yes, Sir," he said without a second's hesitation.

Then she came down the stairs. Upon the first view, Richard felt his clasped hands be pulled wide apart.

Venetia's dark, sensual curves were a smooth, perfect fit for her choice of attire: a tight purple dress. Her hips swayed with each movement. Her breasts bounced with each step. Her face was radiant, aided by just a small dash of make-up, a small sprinkle that only accentuated her natural beauty. Her hair was exotic; her wavy dark locks tied back by pins, with the edges dangling down the sides. In all, she was a full, complete package of dusky hot seduction.

Venetia indeed looked wonderful in her elegant yet drop-dead sexy dress -- but the dress wasn't the actual reason why Richard's libido had reached raging hard levels. The styling helped, for sure, but it was what Venetia didn't wear that appealed to Richard the most. What made Richard so stiff was that this dazzling woman...wore no shoes. Her bare feet against that thin carpet had this steelman's forehead dripping with sweat. Why? It was not a foot fetish. No, what Richard admired so deeply was the symbolism of the act, the message she immediately sent by not wearing shoes. To him, a barefoot woman was a domesticated woman -- and Richard loved a domesticated woman...especially one that immediately showed him her willingness to be in a complete state of humble submission...

"Hello, very pleased to meet you: I am Venetia, Frankie's mother." She put out her hand.

"Good evening, I am Richard, you look gorgeous this evening." He held her hand, kissed it, then, leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, the edge of his lips meeting hers, his stubble rubbing against her skin, his manly musk going right into her airways.

Despite his unconventional looks, Venetia felt her cheeks glowing -- especially when she saw the outline of his piece. But Lady Venetia kept her poise, keeping her eyes on his face. She smiled and pointed towards the dining area. "Thank you for coming. Please, this way."

"No, allow me," he said with a strong gentleman's firmness. He took her soft hand and led her to the dining table. Richard was glad to be there -- but became oh-so-more pleased with his decision when he got a good, hard look at Venetia's shapely, curvaceous behind. It was an intoxicating sight, a sight which had his inner thermostat reach boiling levels. A man with a only a glimmer less control would've put his hands on that delicious rump, lifted her up, put her over the table, and allowed his animal side to take control. That would've been an easy task for him, a quick and simple feat for a man with Richard's dimensions -- yet an option he wouldn't even consider. Why? Because Richard didn't desire a quick, easy, snap-bang encounter with this woman. He wanted only full satisfaction. To achieve that, he needed to complete the full ceremonial process, which, on this occasion, started with a nice, cordial family dinner. Only after feasting would he ravish his woman. And, yes, he already considered Venetia as his woman. Only a minute or two had elapsed since he set foot in the house and already he felt right at home.

A full meal was on the table, the configuration set for three, with seats on the left, right and front. Venetia sat on the right, Frankie on the left, Richard taking the seat at the front of the table.

"Hmm, and who are the children behind me?" he asked as he took his royal throne.

"They made this meal," replied Frankie. "I couldn't have done this without them," he said as he looked at them gratefully.

Björn and Daniel nodded, not wanting to speak, wanting the spotlight to be on the diners.

"You look so hot, Miss B," whispered Kelly.

"Thank you," she replied with a wink, pleased with the work Kelly had done.

Richard turned to the boys. "You made this? It looks wonderful." He turned to Venetia. "Oh; please excuse me, but do you mind if I try a piece?"

"Please do," said Venetia.

Richard grabbed a turkey leg and chomped into it.

"Hmm...Great! Great job, boys. Say, are you the people with the RV?" he said as he took another chomp.

"Yes, we are," replied Daniel.

"Little rusty. I'll fix some dents; don't even say no, it is my payment."

"Thank you, Sir," said Björn.

"Hmm, yes, you are very welcome." He turned to Venetia and Frankie, "I like how everyone here is family, it feels good. Go on Frankie, eat, eat." He patted the boy's cheek. "Go on."

Frankie smiled and ate.

Richard's eyes turned exclusively to Venetia, his libido rising higher as he gazed into her soft brown eyes. "Hmm, this really is delicious. Thank you for inviting me."

"It's my pleasure," she replied with a soft hum.

Richard nodded. "Please, Venetia, tell me a little about yourself, such as where you are from, originally."

"Well, I'm originally from Montreal. I have one son. I came here about a year or two ago. I work as a typist, and I'm currently very, very...single."

Frankie could read his mother's signals: the fluttering eyelids, the 'come-hither' look, the movement of her lips, the tone of her voice, the glow in her cheeks. Everything, everything she did screamed out one loud message: Fuck me -- now. Frankie was seeing something a son rarely sees: A woman stripping off the reigns of motherhood and slipping into the veil of a seductress. For Frankie, seeing his own mother flirt in this overt manner made him feel like he was peeking into a side of his mother that was intensely illicit, yet, he couldn't look away, couldn't look away even if he wanted to...and he didn't want to stop looking. Frankie had bought a front row seat to this show, and he was dead-set on enjoying this forbidden thrill ride.

"Yes, as I am, single, too," replied Richard. He'd read Venetia's signals, loud and clear, yet remained cool, calm, composed, even though he was looking at exactly the kind of woman he'd always dreamed about: dark, seductive, and very, very hungry. German Richard then talked about his background, his upbringing, his rise to management level, how he managed a highly proficient 'mittelstand' factory in Dusseldorf. He then told her how he came to Tabootopia and the day-to-day duties he had in his own North Gaudium factory. He was in autopilot as he relayed his life story. Not because he was disinterested. Not at all. It was because Richard's focus had been drawn elsewhere...

Venetia's lips.

His eyes were fixated on her dazzling lips; so full, soft, wet, and, due to the salad dressing, had been glazed with sweet hot honey, her lips shining with a golden hue, her allure so very, very...enticing. Yet his composure stayed throughout, no sweat, no stumbling, no falling down.

"That is my story," he finished. "I try not to wonder where I am, I just enjoy life. Grateful and honoured to be...here."

"Richard, I must again thank you," said Venetia. "I'm very grateful to you, for being so good to my son."

Richard put his hand on Frankie's shoulder, smiled at him, and then looked at his mother. He spoke with honest pride: "This is a good boy. He polite, he listen well, he does what he told, he never complain. I know he won't be doing my factory job forever. He smart boy, he'll go far, and I support him. You did very good job raising him."

This father-son scene made Venetia's chest feel very warm indeed. "Thank you, and thank you so much for everything. I see you've improved him so much as a person. His confidence and everything...Thank you."

"Yeah, thanks, Sir," said Frankie.

Richard then gave Frankie a stern look. "You always stay on good path, yes? You never let me or your mother down."

"Yes, Sir."

"Okay, now let's eat."

Venetia's whole body started to heat up. That warmness inside her was due to what she saw in front of her: Richard as the father to her son, his strong manly influence in her boy's life, a scene that warmed her heart...and the rest of her body. Seeing Richard at the head of the table, enjoying his meal, exuding a much-needed masculine influence in the household, made Venetia tingle with excitement, the likes of which she'd only ever felt when she was younger, when her daddy was in charge, bringing home the meat, taking care of business...and making a very loud ruckus with Momma during bedtime.