Thunder Over the Boardwalk

MONDAY - DAVY'S STORY

I walked across Logan Square through air shimmering with heat. The fountains didn't seem to help. It was a sweltering 95 degree August day in Center City, Philadelphia, and mostly quiet on the streets. I walked past a party of sweating tourists gathered outside The Four Seasons, and wished them luck on this fun Philly afternoon.

I was headed home early. My day course at the Barnes Foundation had been cancelled because the instructor had his car stolen, so I spent the morning in the Free Library with the homeless, the unemployed, and students like me. I'd had enough by lunchtime, so now I was heading back to my mom's apartment. I lived there when I wasn't at school at UPenn a mile or so away in University City. I would start my second year in two weeks time.

As I walked I tried to think about our upcoming trip to The Shore, our last real break of the summer, and push darker and more dangerous thoughts out of my mind. It was hard. You see, over the last six months I had developed a yearning, almost an obsession, for my mother. I'll tell you why later.

It's not like I don't have a girlfriend. I do. Her name is Hilda and she is very good to me. How to describe her? Well. She looks a bit like Scarlett Johansson between movie shoots. You know, off her diet but still very attractive. Mom has a boyfriend, too. His name is Topher. All four of us were going to Atlantic City for the airshow later in the week.

I made it back home by one and let myself in. Mom has a large apartment in Rittenhouse Square on one of the high floors in what Hilda calls a "swanky block". I shut the door behind me and hung my backpack in one of the closets in the entrance hall. I walked through the living area with its views over the leafy square. I could see Topher's jacket, but no sign of him or mom. I entered the corridor leading to the bedrooms. Mine was second on the right. I closed the door behind me, and flung myself down on the bed.

I was sweaty and needed a shower, but I wondered where mom was. On an impulse, I arose and stuck my head back out into the corridor and listened. I could hear the distant rumble of the washing machine and some music. Silently I crept down the corridor to the end where another corridor ran crossways. Along the corridor on the left was the laundry room and opposite it was a large walk-in cupboard where mom kept the towels and other such stuff. Mom's bedroom and ensuite bath was further along the corridor.

I saw the laundry room door was open. I looked in. Mom was emptying the drier and folding clothes. She was wearing a thin white cotton shift. She had the radio on a classical music station. She didn't see me.

My mom -- now in her early forties - looks like Shania Twain but is a bit taller: five-seven, slim, dark, and attractive in a feisty way. She has smallish breasts but an ass to dream for. She is also very fit. She has to be for her patients to believe in her. I watched her for a few seconds, thinking how attractive she looked, then I returned to my bedroom and lay down to read.

After half an hour, the classical music I could faintly hear down the corridor changed to country and got louder. Nosey, I left my bedroom once more and quietly went back to the laundry room. I cautiously peered round the half open door.

The washing machine was on the opposite side of the windowless laundry room. It was noisy and on a wash cycle. They were both facing away from me. My mom was bent forwards over the throbbing machine, her arms grabbing the corners to steady herself on the slippery steel appliance, her head half resting on a towel on the vibrating surface. The white cotton shift was pushed up above her waist. Topher was behind her, holding her, his hands under her shift. He was fucking my mom.

I could see him rhythmically pumping in and out of her, his balls jangling against her, his shorts around his ankles, his T-shirt hitched up a little. Mom's panties were round her ankles as well. The radio was playing Hank Williams.

They couldn't see me - both were facing towards the wall. I had never seen mom having sex with Topher before, of course. The sight aroused conflicting emotions within me but by far the strongest was desire. I could feel the blood flooding into my cock. My hand crept down inside my shorts and I started to get hard. I continued watching them, a shocking invasion of privacy, I know, but I can't help it. I find myself jacking off, just like I was watching porn. Except this is real and it's my mom and her boyfriend, Topher. I should not have been doing this. I'd get in terrible trouble if they saw me.

Topher's thrusts are strong, and each one pushed mom a few inches towards the wall on the in-stroke, which she recovered on the out stroke. The whole washer is vibrating as if it has a heavy, unbalanced, load going at a low speed.

He was grunting with each poke, while mom was moaning every now and then. Turns out middle-aged people can last quite a long time when they are fucking. I got very excited watching mom get fucked by old Topher. My plan was to skedaddle out the front door when it looked like they were near finished.

My brain was telling me to leave but my cock couldn't drag itself away. I was jacking off fast, almost unconscious that I was doing it, when Topher let out a long groan and arched his back, shoving himself as far up into mom as he could get, half-lifting her off the floor.

He had come; I don't know if mom did or not. The washing cycle finished with a buzzer and what had been a high level of background noise suddenly diminished. All of a sudden I could hear them breathing, and Topher backed out of mom, his sloppy cock limp and dripping with cum and mom-juice. Before he could turn towards me, I drew away from the door and slipped silently into the walk-in closet, carefully closing it to the same position as before. Risky change of plan. Of course, now I could not see what was going on. I hoped Topher didn't need a fresh towel.

I heard steps move down the corridor, a door open, and the distant sound of a shower starting. Did I have time to make my escape? I poked my head out of the door. I could hear nothing but the distant shower. Then the next cycle started which gave me courage to just take one more peek inside the laundry room. I still had a raging hard-on, which I reluctantly stuffed back inside my shorts.

I looked with one eye inside the laundry room. Mom was still in the same position, bent over the washer, face-down, now on one arm. Her beautiful ass stuck out in all its glory, no longer obscured by Topher, her long legs still apart. Her other arm was stretched out under her belly, the tips of her fingers stroking her pussy lips as they disgorged Topher's cum which dribbled down her legs.

It was now that I lost all judgment. The spin cycle started, goading me on. I was on fire with desire for my mother and in my madness it seemed to me that Topher had not finished the job. Instead of fleeing as I should, I took a step forward. My cock, which was as stiff and as big as it ever got, had somehow escaped from my shorts. It was as if someone else was moving towards my mom and I was just an observer. I crept up behind her in a kind of sexual trance and placed my hands exactly where Topher had been holding her.

"Mmm..," she said above the noise of the washer. "Back for more Tophy? Good."

She did not turn around, but settled her head on the towel as she had before.

I did not reply, but moved right up behind her, between her outstretched legs. Her messy pussy beckoned to me, wet, pink, and inflamed with the pounding it had just taken. I moved my hand from her waist and placed it up on her back, near her neck to discourage her from turning . With the other I guided the swollen head of my cock to her pussy opening, and as I did so she moved her own hand away from there back onto the washer as it spun and spun.

Then I shoved my cock all the way up inside her, feeling Tophers cum squish out and run down our legs together. I could feel it dripping off my balls.

"Oh," said mom as she felt my dick travel all the way up inside her. Then I started to ram into her, hard and fast. Much harder and much faster than Topher. And much bigger, if I say so myself.

As I did so she gasped. Shock? Surprise? Recognition?

My nerves stretched to breaking point; I had been close to coming before I had even gotten into mom and within seconds I knew I was going to cum a river. And so I did, arching just as Topher had as I emptied spurt after spurt into mom. She felt me come, and as she gripped the washer once more with both hands she let out a long groan as she came herself.

I hoped and prayed Topher was still in the shower.

Reality set in the moment after I came. Mom was still quivering as I withdrew and shoved my dripping cock back into my shorts. I backed out to the doorway, looked quickly along the corridor - clear - and turned for one last look at mom. She was still on the washer, face buried in her arms and now I had the satisfaction of seeing my own cum slowly dripping down the inside of her legs onto the tile floor where a pool of semen from both of us had formed.

I turned and fled, out to the living area, silently out through the front door, closing it behind me.

Why had I done such a crazy thing?

One incident earlier that year, in February, had changed everything between us. We shared a sleeping bag after an accidental immersion in an icy mountain lake. We were on a hike, miles from any help. As our naked bodies warmed up next to one another I could not control myself and she had little option but to give in to me. But mom made it clear afterwards that it was a one-off and we were never to speak of it again. Let alone do it.

But I could not forget. I've tried. In fact we both found partners -- I hate that word -- over the summer. Mom found Topher, an administrator at the cancer center where she was a physician-researcher, and I started seeing Hilda, a first year student at UPenn. She was my first real girlfriend. I liked her, no matter what happened later. But my feelings about mom were as strong as ever.

The thing of it is, I think my mom also wanted me. But not as myself. Not as her son. She could not accept that. I felt bad for my girlfriend. I felt bad for Topher. But this madness haunted me. I was well aware that it could destroy me and mom.

So I walked the streets until the time when my course was scheduled to finish. I killed three hours in the Market Street Mall, very badly in need of a shower, and returned home to whatever fate awaited me.

I opened the front door and peered inside. No one was in the entrance hall. My backpack was still in the closet. Good.

I walked into the living area. Mom was sitting next to Topher. She was reading her medical research papers. Topher was behind a newspaper. She looked up and Topher put down his paper. Mom crossed her legs and the movement filled me with a vivid memory of what I had done to her a few hours before. Her eyes burned brightly as she stared at me. Almost sultry.

"How was your course, Davy? Tell me about it," said mom. Her tone was casual, but her look bored into me. Was it anger or something else?

Topher sat back next to her looking tired but smug. He had his hand on her knee. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was sure he knew nothing. I spun a short tale about the course. She listened with apparent interest, said 'Hmm' and went back to reading her research papers.

Later I checked the phone messages on our residential number. The Barnes people had left a voicemail apologizing for the cancellation of the course. Mom had already moved it to the 'saved' folder. She knew all the time.

WEDNESDAY - HILDA'S STORY

I'm Hilda. We got to Atlantic City by lunchtime. This was my first trip out with his family, up to now we'd just been together during term time at UPenn. I have to confess I was quite nervous when I was asked on the trip to AC. I find Davy's mom intimidating. All that medical brainpower. I don't think she liked me. But her boyfriend Topher was very kind to me. I had to keep reminding myself to act normally and enjoy myself. But I was very nervous and wanted to please everyone. Looking back on it, that may have blinded me from what was really going on..

The penthouse suite at The Chelsea was huge, with a great sea-view. But I was worried about us having sex in our bedroom of the suite while his mom was there -- even though her bedroom is well away from ours. I had to get over that, so perhaps I drank a little too much on our first night there. At about ten, after dinner with his mom and Topher, we went outside to walk with the crowds on the Boardwalk. It was busy! I have been to AC before in the summer but these crowds were something else.

"I've never seen so many people," I said.

"It's the airshow," said Davy. "Everyone comes down here to watch it. You think my mom likes AC? Of course not. It's a shit hole."

"I wish you wouldn't swear," I said. "It's rude."

We walked on south along the boardwalk and came across an outside terrace bar area in front of one of the hotels -- I won't say which one, they wouldn't like it. Davy took me by the hand and led me in. We sat down at one of the tables. A lone server was trying to keep lots of tables happy so we had time to watch what was going on. Most of the tables were occupied, but the lights were small and dim, the big lights on the boardwalk cast long dark shadows over the customers, most of whom were drinking rather than eating.

"What do you want to drink?" asked Davy.

The waiter came and Davy ordered a Sam Adams and I had a Chardonnay. We weren't asked for ID. We sat waiting for our drinks to arrive, which wouldn't be anytime soon. The Boardwalk was still busy at 11pm. Every five minutes or so a Boardwalk Patrol cart trundled past, momentarily lighting up the dim terrace with its low-mounted headlamps. As it went by Davy gasped..

"What?' I asked.

Davys elbow nudged me. He covered his mouth with his hand and said

"Look over there. The girl with the two boys at that table.'

At a table next to the wall, about fifteen feet away deep in the shadows, I saw the girl and two young guys. A pretty blond, she was sitting to the left of them. The guy in the center with his head in his hands was silent but smiling. Both the girl and the other guy, an Asian, were giggling. They each had one arm on their elbows, but their arms next to the guy in the center were out of sight under the table. They were turned towards the guy between them watching his face and giggling. The table was poorly lit, and underneath it was in black shadow.

As I watched, trying not to stare, it seemed clear that something was going on under the table. I had a good idea what it was, but we could not see. Both Davy and I kept watching; we were in dim light too, so we could get away with stares. After a while the two stopped giggling and could not conceal their arm movement. The Asian had both his hands under the table now. The guy between them had his head in his hands and looked down at the table. His smile had gone. In a moment he sort of wriggled, and his mouth opened.

Davy and I smiled at one another. Then as luck would have it the Boardwalk Patrol cart trundled past once again. It lit up the trio's table perfectly underneath and we could see what we weren't supposed to. It was only for a moment but we could see everything.

The pretty blonde, who was wearing nice pink shorts, was gently pumping her companions erect cock which was poking out of his pants. It was a long thin one. He was coming, still spurting in fact, and a river of semen was sliding down, over her hand and onto the hand of the Asian on the other side who also had a grip on this guy's cock, lower down. This guy had his own cock out and was stroking it furiously with one hand as he was still gripping his buddy with the other. The Patrol past and the light went out.

It was one of the most erotic sights I have ever seen and I squeezed my thighs together as my pussy had suddenly become wet. Over at the trio's table the Asian's head dropped and he twitched a little. He had come too. The pretty girl laughed, and her hand reappeared, reaching for a paper napkin to wipe off the gobs of semen from her hand and wrist. She put it on her empty plate for the server to clear away.

Davy turned to look at me.

"I am seriously horny, do you think we could..?" he pleaded

Now I felt guilty. Davy had come on to me back at the hotel but I wouldn't because his mother was there and it put me off. I had never done anything like this in public. But I was horny too, after that exhibition, and I didn't want Davy to think I was a coward. I moved my chair closer to him and, looking around to make sure no-one was watching, reached down under the table.

"I can't get your shorts undone," I whispered.

He reached down and within seconds Davys large fat cock sprang free and I gripped the end of it, just holding it at first. I wasn't sure how I was going to do this without being obvious. I started a slow rub and squeezed his glans. He was putting out precum and it made his cock all slippery. It felt sooo good. Now I really wanted him inside me but of course that was impossible. I gripped him harder and wrangled him about a little. I am still learning what to do with guys cocks. But it's all good. Then I went back to pumping him. He's very big. He seemed to like that best. A minute later I felt a presence behind us.

The server was leaning over between us, looking down at our laps. Davy's cock smiled up at him, all wet with precum and my hand wrapped around it.

"Both of you leave right now or I'll call the police," he said, holding a tray with our drinks on it. He did not set it down.

There was nothing more to be said. We zipped up, I grabbed my bag and we left while the trio at the other table watched with interest. I have never felt so humiliated in all my life and fifty yards down the Boardwalk I burst into tears. Davy was upset, too.

"I'm so sorry, Hilda. So, so sorry. It was all my fault. I'll make it up to you. No-one will ever know about it. I promise."

Davy grabbed me in his arms and I started to cheer up a bit. We walked on south for a long time, not talking, each in our own thoughts. The crowds had thinned out. It occurred to me that maybe it was possible to walk too far in AC. Davy was holding me by the waist, which I like, and the incident at the bar was starting to seem funny. It was not like we'd been arrested or anything. No-one knew our names. Perhaps I could even brag about it to my roommate Sandra. She thinks I'm a bit innocent.

A distant shout turned us around, looking back where we had come from. A gang of drunken youths were heading towards us. They were yelling and stumbling about. Boardwalk patrol was nowhere to be seen. They had not seen us but still...

"Come on," said Davy.

Davy has a good eye for trouble. He took my hand and led me down onto the beach. The boardwalk here was still in reconstruction to repair storm damage and it was possible to crawl in under the boards between the new wooden supports. It was dark down there and I hoped nothing lived there that would bite us.

"We'll just wait for them to go past, then we'll head back to the Chelsea."

We had walked too far but I was not worried. It was a good hiding place, and the sand was soft. Nothing bit us as we sat down. Davy looked at me, his face just visible. I could tell he was still horny.

"My mom's nowhere near, hon. Come here."

He leaned forward and kissed me, gently guiding my hand onto the bulge in his shorts as he did so. I responded with a squeeze. This was so exciting, I was becoming wet again. I rubbed him and impatiently undid his zipper. I did better than in the bar; soon his cock was out. I could barely see it in the darkness but I could feel its power. I grabbed it and squeezed, wondering if we could do it here in the sand and the dark. At least I could make him come. He's quite difficult to blow cos he's big, but I do my best.