The Truth About Laura Ch. 05

Laura Hampton drove slowly home in the rain, her mind awhirl with questions.

So much had happened since Thanksgiving. First, her parents separated. Her father, Cal, took an apartment closer to the university, enabling Laura to see him more often. This had its positive points -- the sex was getting better and better -- but also had its drawbacks.

"I don’t want you to be a hooker anymore, Laura," he said as they nestled under the sheets that very morning.

"I'm tired of this discussion, Dad. I'm making too much money to give it up now. Tuition's due in January, and I have car payments to make."

"I'll pay all that," he said, kissing her softly. "I don't want to share you with anyone."

"Would we be in bed right now if I weren't a call girl in the first place?" she reminded him, playing idly with his prick. "I wonder how long you could stand it."

Cal stared at his lovely daughter, her gorgeous young breasts, the contour of her lithe, compact body outlined under the sheets of his bed. Laura's expert fingers were stroking him back to full erection, and he knew she'd win this argument again.

"I can barely stand it now," he muttered as she nibbled on one of his nipples, sending a thrill straight to his balls. Laura could feel his dick stiffening in her hand, and her russet-haired head licked its way down to his rapidly expanding cock.

Cal sighed as Laura's expert lips slid halfway down his hungry shaft. As always, the sight of his daughter's head bobbing up and down on his cock thrilled him and he lay on his back to give her room and to get a better view.

But Laura surprised him by maneuvering her body over his, her hairy, glistening pussy inches above his face. Cal spread Laura's cheeks and lifted his head, his tongue penetrating her vulva, probing for her clit.

Laura huffed a little when he found it, and for a few moments they used their tongues alone. Then Cal reached up and sank a finger into Laura's dark, furry pussy. Working tongue and fingers together, he soon recognized the familiar twitches and puffing sounds of pending orgasm.

Laura lifted her head from Cal's dick as the first orgasm hit.

"That's it, Daddy! Harder! Oh, yes!"

Cal redoubled his efforts as his lovely daughter thrashed about on top of him, her hot breathing wafting over his dick even as she came again.

"Oh, Daddy, you're the best!" she sighed as she came down from her intense orgasmic high. Able to breathe now, she took Cal's cock back into her mouth, holding it steady with one hand and gently, proficiently stimulating his balls with her long, sharp fingernails.

Laura's tongue tickled the eye of his cock even as she teased the sperm that would soon erupt from it. There it was, that extra stiffening, the sure sign that Cal was getting ready to--

"Come! Oh, honey! Make me come!"

Laura obliged, swallowing each hot spurt of semen as it splashed across her eager tongue. Down she went for more; he was her Daddy, and she always did her best for him, whether in the classroom or in the bedroom.

Once he finished, Cal surprised her with a sudden plunge of his fingers into her pussy.

"Daddy, what are … ohhh, Daddy," she cooed as he manipulated her into one more orgasm.

Afterward, Laura lay next to her father, her soft brown hair spilled across his shoulder.

"When can I see you again?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said. "Finals are coming up, and I've got studying to do."

But that wasn't the reason. Laura had heard very little from her mother or brother since Thanksgiving; since that hostile embrace her mother Marjorie had given her when she and Cal left, in fact. Cal denied telling Marjorie about their relationship: in fact, he told Laura, Marjorie's reason for the separation was that she needed some time by herself, and that maybe the marriage wasn't over after all.

So it must have been Tim, even after she swore the horny little bastard to secrecy. But what had he told Mom? she wondered. Maybe Mom didn't know about her other life at all. What if she just heard me with Tim? She might save the situation, but if that's true, why kick Dad out? And why hasn't Tim at least sent me an e-mail?

Laura didn't want to lose her mother for the sake of her father. She had to know what was going on. Luckily, business was a little slow right now, and Professor Johnson, who ran the operation, said it was all right for her to take the weekend off. She felt bad about not telling Cal, but she didn't want to take a chance that he might do something, well, stupid.

The rain poured down harder as Laura swung her car into the driveway. She was barely able to keep her feet dry as she tippy-toed into the house through the garage door. The rain was coming down so hard that it drowned out the noise of the door opening.

Even though it was only eight o'clock, no one seemed to be home. Yet Marjorie's car was in the driveway. Laura moved quietly through the first floor of the house; nobody in the kitchen, or the living room, or what had been Cal's den.

Then she heard voices upstairs. One of the voices was Tim's, the other muffled. Padding softly on the steps, avoiding the step that always squeaked, she heard the familiar sound of her brother in full rut. To Laura's expert ear, it was obvious that someone was giving Tim a blow job.

Mom must be away for the weekend, Laura thought. They're in her bedroom. I hope he's smart enough to change the sheets before she comes back. I wonder who she is?

The door was open, and the room lit by a single soft nightstand lamp. Moving down the darkened hallway, she saw her naked brother sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes closed as a woman's head bobbled on his prick.

The woman wore a black lace teddy and high heels; Laura herself had an outfit like that. As Laura tiptoed closer, she recognized the thick, dark halo of hair lit softly by the lamp, the familiar swimmer's figure, the long legs of the model she had been in her twenties, the shiny black heels she wore for special occasions.

Oh, my God, thought Laura, it's Mom! Mom's giving Tim a blow job! How long has this been going on?

Incredulous, Laura stared for a moment, and then stepped away.

Tim, meanwhile, began to bounce his hips on his mother's bed, humping his dick deep into her face.

Marjorie lifted her head for a moment and looked at her handsome son, tan and muscular, masturbating him with one hand and herself with the other. She smiled as she noticed the brick red lipstick smears she'd left along his six-inch shaft.

"I'm so close, Mom," he breathed.

"Just so you have some left for me," she replied, licking the head of his prick.

"That'll never be a problem," he sighed.

Marjorie tilted Tim's prick toward her face and back between her red lips to her moist tongue. The weeks since Thanksgiving had been the strangest of her life. Finding her children in bed together; allowing herself to be seduced by her son; kicking Cal out; and now trying every sexual experiment she could think of with her boy.

Once they had broken the incest interdiction, Marjorie found herself unable to stop. She was like a long-dry alcoholic who'd started drinking again, wanting more and more, knowing she should not be doing it, loving it too much to care.

"Mom!"

Marjorie opened her jaws wider as Tim's prick spewed his hot young man's semen right down her eager slurping throat. His body shivered with effort as his prick pumped two, three, four more hot shots down her enthusiastic throat.

"How was that?" she asked, looking upward.

But Tim wasn't smiling down at her the way he usually did. He was looking at the doorway, his jaw open in disbelief.

Marjorie turned and gasped at the sight: her gorgeous daughter Laura, in a black teddy and high heels that matched her own, standing in the doorframe, looking every bit the madam in the family bordello.

"Laura!" they both cried.

Laura boldly stepped into the room, walked to the other side of the bed and lay on her side, allowing her ample breasts to roll together.

"To think I was terrified what you'd think of me," she purred.

Marjorie turned away.

"Oh, Laura, Laura, what's happened to you?" she asked. "I'm so--"

Laura nodded to her brother, who wrapped his arms around his mother and nibbled her neck, sliding his hand down to her crotch and cupping her vulva.

His dick rising again, Tim turned Marjorie around and kissed her deeply. Marjorie kissed him back and, without breaking the kiss, Tim placed her on the bed next to Laura.

"Wh-- wh-- what … are we going to do?" their mother moaned as Tim loosened the teddy's straps and liberated her breasts.

Tim took a nipple between his teeth as Laura took the other one. Marjorie could hardly believe her eyes as her son and daughter's fingers met in the middle. Tim sank his familiar fingers into Marjorie's cunt as Laura manipulated her clit.

As always, Marjorie's misgivings were washed away as the sex went on. She had not had an orgasm tonight, but this--

I should be horrified by this, she thought as she felt a tongue explore between her legs; Tim's, knowing he owed her one.

But she also felt another tongue, pressing between her lips. I'm French kissing my daughter! she thought with a thrill. This is so depraved! Sweet Jesus, is nothing beneath me?

Laura broke the kiss and loosened the straps containing her own breasts. Generous and round, the nipples already hard, they fell out, almost touching Marjorie's.

"They look just alike, Mom," Laura said, reaching down and manipulating her mother's clit as her brother's tongue probed the inside of Marjorie's cunt.

"Oh, God!" Marjorie barked. "No, we can't! We shouldn't! Oh, Jesus, lower!"

Laura kissed her mother again as Marjorie's body began to quiver with pleasure. Thrashing on the bed now, she tore her face away from her daughter's so she could breathe even as the siblings coordinated their efforts to bring Marjorie a thrill she'd never forget.

"Let it go, Mom!" Laura urged.

"Mmmm-hmmm," Tim agreed.

Crying out, Marjorie clamped her legs around Tim's shoulders and Laura's fingers chugged away until Marjorie almost pulled a muscle. Conflicting feelings of shame and desire coursed through her veins, and she turned away from this lusty stranger with her daughter's face.

But Tim crawled up beside her, his prick standing tall, demanding attention, resting in the cleft of her crotch.

For a moment, the mother and children lay together, allowing Marjorie to recover. Laura reached over, tugged on Tim's prick, brought him between mother and daughter, and rolled him onto his back.

"What are we going to do?" the half-stunned Marjorie asked.

"My turn," Laura said simply, straddling her brother and sinking down his hot, scarlet length.

"Ohh, Laura," he sighed.

Once she had her brother's cock right where she wanted it, Laura took her mother's hands and pulled her close. Marjorie understood and her cunt hovered above Tim's face. He knew his oral duties were not finished yet.

The women's lips met, and then their breasts as they explored each other's bodies. With a mischievous smile, Laura cupped her boobs together and rubbed her nipples against her mother's once she broke their kiss.

"Oh, sweet Jesus!" Marjorie gasped as Laura's stiff nubs sent jolts of bliss between the two of them. "I've never felt like this before! Where did you learn that?"

"During a threesome with one of the other girls," Laura replied, leaning forward to give Tim more room. She bobbed up and down on Tim's prick as he tongued away at their mother.

Now the women played with each other's boobs, Marjorie's the larger, kept firm through swimming and exercise, Laura's flush with youth and energy. Mother and daughter stared deeply into each other's eyes, bound together now in a way neither ever thought possible, and in the minds of both visions of the future began to grow.

Laura's experience had taught her certain signs, and she knew what she wanted: a three-way simultaneous orgasm. Marjorie was already breathing hard, still feeling the effects of the last one; Laura was almost ready. But could Tim hold out?

Laura felt the first stirrings as she danced on her brother's stiff, slick prick. Gently, she reached between Marjorie's legs and began to masturbate her, helping her brother bring their mother's pleasure home. Then she felt the always recognizable extra stiffness when a prick was about to fill her pussy.

Just in time, Laura got her wish. Tim jammed his prick all the way into Laura's cunt and held it there as his balls let go. Marjorie and Laura cried and shuddered together with bliss, embracing as they came together once, twice, more.

Eventually, Tim eased himself out from under the two women and said, "I can't feel my tongue. I don't think I'll be able to eat for a week."

The women laughed, but Marjorie withdrew from her children and moved to the edge of the bed.

"What's wrong, Mom?" Laura asked, giving her a hug.

Marjorie sighed.

"In the last month, everything I ever believed in is gone," she said. "I've lost my husband, fucked my son like a demented nymphomaniac, my daughter's a hooker and now I think I'm bisexual. I'm a whore, just like you."

Laura nodded, her pretty face free of expression.

"No, you're not, Mom," she said softly. "But would you like to be?"

***

New Year's Eve, and the old mansion outside of town that served as Professor Johnson's brothel was prepared for a swinging evening.

"Marge, you take my breath away," said the professor, after Marjorie agreed to give the call girl's life a try. "You'd be amazed at the number of young guys who want an older woman. Let's start at the next party and see how it goes."

So now Marjorie Hampton, tall and regal in a white evening gown, joined her equally elegant daughter in the parlor, where the girls were sipping champagne.

"Nervous?" asked Laura.

"Just a little," Marjorie said. "I don’t know whether to thank you or kill you."

"I've arranged a special client for you," said Laura. "Then you'll know. Head upstairs. Here's the key to Suite 13."

Marjorie nervously climbed the stairs, twisting the key in her hand. She loved sex, always had, and now it was safe to admit it. After what she had done with her children, how could she possibly object to Laura's lifestyle? Besides, the pragmatic side could hardly argue with the money. It certainly beat trying to sell real estate in this market.

The door opened into a stylish bedroom, with a small bar on the dresser, a Victorian four-poster bed, Maxfield Parrish paintings on the walls, and a man on a love seat, waiting.

"Cal!"

"Marjorie?"

The two stared at each other, and burst into laughter.

"I never expected--" he began, but Marjorie placed her fingers on his mouth and said, "I know who you were expecting."

Cal kissed his wife for the first time since she had thrown him out.

"So you're the special client," she said. "I ought to strangle you."

"So all of a sudden you're the working girl here," he replied. "How'd that happen?"

"Laura set it up," she replied. "I know all about the two of you."

"I see. Well, I know about the three of you. It seems that we've worked out the gold vein of depravity."

Marjorie poured two shots of neat Scotch and handed him one.

"And now?" she asked.

"Well, I've lived my fantasy, and it seems you're living yours," replied Cal. "If you're willing to forget everything, then so am I. I miss you, and I want you back."

They knocked back their liquor, and, for the first time in a long time, kissed as lovers. Cal never called his wife "Laura" again.

END