Winter Mix Ch. 12: Returns

Mother and son moved harmoniously while the slow fuck developed and overtook them as if it were an entity unto itself. He entered an altered state: his prick was a piledriver; his pelvis, a great engine. He plumbed her depths with relentless, rhythmic, mechanically precise thrusts. Sensuality consumed her spirit as every plunge pushed her closer to her crux and each retreat's respite was that much more brief.

Barney chuffed and grunted. Each pumping drive goaded his gonads to justify themselves while Judith whistled through her nose as her breaths shortened and her dynamic drops produced ever more irresistible pressure. She raked her fingernails from his ankles over his kneecaps to join the work party as she straightened up and captured his cock at its pinnacle. Arching her back, she pulped his nuts with her left hand while she furiously fanned her clit with her right and howled her ecstasy, "YESSSS! Oh, my God! YESSSS!"

Delighted by Judith's exuberant joy, Barney's mind snapped back to the reality of the moment. Incredible to him, his replenished sperm factory shipped additional stock to its screaming consumer. As the surging splurge erupted, he gained an immediate empirical understanding of the expression 'tickled to death.' Clutching her hard to his upthrust hips, he flexed his cock, squeezed his glutes and tightened his abs while he cried out, as loudly as she, "MAAHHHHMMM!"

When Judith no longer felt Barney twitching in her tunnel and her fulsome tide had fully ebbed, she pivoted away from his softening dick and lay along his ribs, leaving him to recover on her side of the bed. Tenderly stroking her right hand over his rippling stomach and heaving chest to his left cheekbone, she kissed his right earlobe then hummed, "Mmmm, you were marvelous, BeeBee. Mom couldn't be happier." She wiggled his cheek with a delicate pinch and added, sotto voce, "But, you know what? I think you're going to have to eat your Wheaties every day from now on."

Barney groaned as another thrill raced from his face to his feet. He thought to himself, "Yeah. A double bowlful, if I'm going to keep fucking Mrs. M., too!" Turning to look into Judith's glowing face, he kissed her pink cupid's bow lips and said aloud, "Yes, Mom. I will." Then, exhausted beyond belief, he closed his eyes and crashed.

Judith hugged her sleeping son and lover to her satisfied soul and grazed her fingers through his short sandy brush cut hair. Already dreaming about future nights, mornings and even afternoons, she said to herself, as she joined Barney in his nap, "You can stop fantasizing about Clint Eastwood, now, Dear."

While Judith zipped up Barney's fly on the upper landing in the Barnes house and wondered how long it had been undone, Roberta Maxon, in her kitchen, unzipped her floor-length, multi-hued but mostly red, ribbed terrycloth robe below her naked cum-streaked thighs. Wringing out a warm damp dishcloth, she lazily wiped herself from her knees to her navel as she wondered how long it might be before she felt Barney's big dick inside her again. After re-closing her robe, she climbed the stairs to the master bedroom while she thought, "I'd better check the expiration date on my birth control prescription."

For their weekly Friday fucks, Roberta and Phil relied on his using a condom, or two. But, as she pondered the randomosity of catching her neighbor boy in an impromptu tryst, she realized it would be folly to raid the Trojan supply in Phil's sock drawer. He would certainly notice and wonder. Continuing her mental soliloquy, she said to herself, "No, assuming it's not already too late, and my period comes as expected, I'd better make sure I'm prepared at all times."

Just then the telephone rang. Crossing the carpet to the teak end table between the dormer windows, Judith picked up the extension phone's receiver and said, neutrally, "Hello."

At the other end, her husband replied pleasantly, "Hi, Baby. Just calling to let you know that Trixie and I are coming... Ouch!... home on the next train. It's scheduled to leave in fifteen minutes. Will you be able to pick us up at the station? Or should we cab it?"

Patricia Maxon, standing in the payphone's accordion doorway, could not help herself when she heard her stepdad say that he and she were 'coming'. She impishly pinched his bottom through his alpaca overcoat. Despite its thick protection, on top of his worsted wool suit pants and boxers, her hard sharp nails dug into his flesh, making him involuntarily cry out.

In Westport, Roberta exclaimed, "Phil? Are you okay? I thought you yelped..."

"It's nothing, Bobbie," Phil quickly covered for himself. "I wasn't paying attention and pinched my finger in the phone booth door as I was closing it against the wind. It's alright, really."

"Oh, that's good," Roberta answered. "Well, anyway, sure... the snow's stopped and the plows have cleared the streets. The Barnes boy... you know from next door?... Well, yesterday he shoveled our walks, and then today he came again." She pushed her robe between her legs and closed her eyes as she pressed her clitoris. "Uhhhn," she groaned reflexively.

Phil squinted as he processed the guttural noise on the other end of the line. "What's that, Bobbie? I didn't understand..."

"I didn't say anything, actually, Phil," Roberta riposted. "But, as I was about to say, there's no reason I can't pick you and Trixie up. Count on it."

"That's great, Baby, thanks," Phil praised. "We'll see you soon, then." While he hung up, he frowned disapproval at Patricia for her prank, but her face was so angelically sweet that he was forced to quickly change to a grin as he declared, "You are a minx, and we'll be in bad trouble if you can't control yourself better than that!"

Patricia arched up on her fleece-lined ankle-boots' toes and planted a long, undaughterly kiss on Phil's mouth, then retorted, "We're still in New York, Uncle Phil. I'll wait 'til we're home to be 'better.' " Silently. she added, "Just wait until you see how much better I can be."

On the MTA platform in Westport, Phil and Patricia headed for the turnstiles and Roberta's waiting pink Cadillac. Grateful for the car's warmth, Patricia piled their packages onto the back seat then slid across the front bench next to her mother as Phil followed onto the front passenger seat and closed the coupe's wide door against the still harsh cold outside air. He and Roberta leaned toward each other and barely missed each other's mouths as they blank-kissed a perfunctory greeting across Patricia's chest while she shrank out of their way. "Thanks again, Baby," he said. "The train wasn't crowded, but I see the taxi-stand has people lined up three-deep."

In the Maxon driveway, while Patricia scooted for the house with the New York loot, and particularly with the naughty nighty that she knew her mother must never see or ask about, Phil poked his head back into the Coupe De Ville's cabin. Looking quizzically at Roberta, who had not made any indication that she, too, was getting out, he asked, "Aren't you coming right in, Bobbie?"

"No, Phil," Roberta replied, shaking her head. "I made a jugful of my special cocoa for you guys. It's on the counter and can be re-heated in a saucepan if it's not hot enough." Then realizing that she had hardly explained why she was staying in the car, she went on, "While I was making it, I decided I wanted a nice steak dinner, tonight, but I didn't know when you might be home, so I didn't pull any meat from the freezer. I'm going to the market and get a couple of nice rib-eyes." She smiled across the car and said, "I'll be back in an hour or so. Love you!"

"Okay, Baby," Phil answered. "You want to get some broccoli, too? We haven't had that for a week or more." As Roberta nodded and put the Caddy in reverse, with her foot on the brake, he shut the door then turned for the house.

Inside, Patricia watched from her bedroom as the Cadillac rolled back into the street and then moved away. Practically tripping over herself, she ran downstairs and slid across the kitchen linoleum in her wool socks as Phil closed the back door. "Ooomph!" He exclaimed when his niece's hundred-and-eighteen pounds jammed him up against the jamb. "What the hay?" He asked incredulously.

Bubbling, Patricia demanded, "Where's Mom going? How long will she be gone? You wanna make love to me again? NOW?" She pushed her bulky-knit sweater up against his overcoat and shimmied as she unbuttoned it's bottom buttons.

Stunned by the sudden assault, Phil begged, "Whoa! Trixie! Honey, I thought we were not going to do that anymore, or at least not at home."

Patricia peppered Phil's face with hot little kisses and said, between flurries, "I never said that... I might have said I wasn't going to tell anyone... ever... but I KNOW I didn't say I wasn't going to... you know... DO it with you again!" Pushing her hand between his alpaca plackets, she grabbed his package and was not surprised by its swelling size. "And don't tell me you don't want to, either." She squeezed his cock and felt it harden even more. "That would be an obvious lie! So, you didn't say: Where's Mom going and how long do we have?"

Phil groaned as his body overrode his conscience and his libido argued on Patricia's behalf. "Uhhmm, she's going to... uhn!... the store. Back in an...owww-wer."

Patricia yipped, "Goody! Dump your coat in the closet and hurry to my room. I'll be waiting, so you better not change your mind!" Turning instantly away, she fled back upstairs, leaving her stepfather to wonder when he had agreed to her idea. His fattening cock and aching balls reminded him in no uncertain terms.

Phil detoured at the upper landing to his bureau in the master bedroom and retrieved a Trojan from the box under his socks. Before closing the drawer, he grabbed a second one, just in case there was time for a double fuck. Then, taking care to be neat, he undressed to his underwear, laid his clothes on the queen-size sleigh bed where he could get back into them quickly if needs be. Juggling the wrappered rubbers as he went, he walked back along the corridor to his stepdaughter's room.

Patricia, meanwhile, had haphazardly tossed her outer and underclothes willy-nilly as she hurried naked under her covers without even turning down the bed's snowy-white popcorn chenille spread. Propped against her brass-framed standard bed's white wooden headboard, decoratively painted with Swiss-styled hearts and flowers in bright colors, she waited impatiently for Phil to appear. As soon as he showed in her white enameled doorframe, she pounded the mattress with her flat little palm and cried, "Hurry, Uncle Phil! I'm all itchy!"

Phil slowly approached as if it were the first time he had ever been in Patricia's sunny yellow painted bedroom. Peeling off his T-shirt and boxers, he stood undeniably ready to be any man but a stepfather or uncle to the nubile teen who sat positively quivering in her bed with her sheet drawn up to her chin. "Just a moment, Honey," he said. "Remember what we talked about at breakfast? Let me put on my protection for safety's sake."

Patricia stared lustily at Phil's tumescent tool and hanging nuts as she replied, "No, Uncle Phil! I want to do it. I saw how Friday night, let me, please?" Smiling at her eagerness, he handed her one of the foil squares while he put the other one on her nightstand beneath her lemon milk-glass lamp then started to get into bed. "No, wait! Stay right there!" She exclaimed as she dropped the sheet and leaned forward.

While she crawled on all-fours toward the mattress edge and her uncle's hard-on, Patricia's pert thirty-five-inch B-cup tits swung tantalizingly between her arms. It was all Phil could do not to grab her by the boobs, flip her onto her back like a turtle, and fuck her bareback right there and then, even though she was at her most fertile point in her monthly cycle. Innocently unaware of his controlled impulse, but not so innocent in her own mind, she tore open the envelope and pushed the condom over his velvet spade. As it snapped into place behind the helmet rim, she rolled it smoothly to his dick's root.

With her hands still holding his protected prick, Patricia popped its head into her mouth and mauled it between her cheeks and tongue. Sneakily, she sought out its reservoir end and deliberately chewed a hole in it while she played at teasing the latex-covered glans' leaky slit. Sensing the torn edge with her tongue-tip, she smiled around his compromised cock and thought, "Ninety per cent is already too safe for me. I want your baby-stuff to succeed, Uncle Phil!"

Sliding her hands up over Phil's waist to his underarms, Patricia pulled him onto herself on her bed and kissed him fervently, not only because she loved him, but also to distract him from the damage she had done to the rubber. On her back, she curled her legs up high and back against her flattening mounded breasts as he naturally positioned himself. With all systems go, as far as he was concerned, he nudged his soft-nosed steel-strong shaft between her labia and slid it up to her clit. She squeaked on contact and slipped her hands and feet behind his broad back.

Phil kissed, then sucked, Patricia's proud puffed haloes as he drew his cock back down her moistening slice and then dredged it upward again, with more pressure a half-inch deeper in her folds. When he bumped her button again, she jerked as she mewled and inhaled a sharp short breath. Wet and waiting on his return trip to heaven's gate, she kicked her heels and lunged her hips. This time when he thrust forward, he was snared in her snatch.

Patricia kissed Phil's wavy brown hair as he tugged on her tit with his teeth and slid his staff balls deep in her vagina. The emotions she had stored up on the long train trip from The City, combined with the fantastic feeling his hard cock sent through her young body, burst incandescently in a rapturous orgasm she could not have imagined would come on so quickly. Clutching his broad back, she clawed her sharp nails across his scapulae and whimpered her delight.

Phil loved that his niece had come fast. He wanted her to have a good fuck, since he could not know when they might have the chance again. He also was happy that he was not, himself, near ready to shoot. The pressure was building, but under control. He wondered how many climaxes he could induce in her, and hoped his rubber would hold all the stored cum he thought for sure he would eventually spend.

Patricia's first crisis, though swift and strong, soon passed. Satisfied, but anxious for better results, she rocked her uncle as he plowed firmly on. In her head, she screamed, "Give me a baby! Please!" She had no rational reason for it, but was certain that she had a ripe egg just waiting to be fertilized and grow. Focusing all her energy on making him ejaculate, through the broken catch-bulb, into her womb, she squeezed her thighs, calves, and Kegels around him as hard as she could.

Phil was surprised how near the edge he suddenly was. Despite fucking her several times already, he had forgotten how hot his niece was and could be. His balls boiled and his breathing grew ragged as he sensed his impending explosion. "To hell with her coming again," he thought. "There's time enough for a longer fuck after this one!" Pulling her bottom into him as he drove deep, he clamped his jaws around her boob and sucked her to the back of his mouth as he felt his semen rush from his dick.

Patricia felt Phil seize up inside her as much as she felt his teeth on her tender titty. Overwhelming bliss flooded her mind and spirit. She cried silently, "Yes! Send them!" She rolled, kicked and tossed her head as her second orgasm released her tension, and she babbled aloud, "Unn-huh! Uhn cle! Uhhhnn-Hunnnh! Oh! Uncle! Yes!"

Phil feared Patricia's unbridled response would endanger his condom's security. Quickly, he pulled out from her pussy, but not as quickly as she rolled with him onto her left side, stripped the sticky rubber from his stalk and tossed it through the air to the floor. Out of his sight, beneath the sheet, she stabbed three fingers into her cunny to prevent any valuable viable sperm from going the wrong way. At the same time, she laid her other hand against his face and pleaded, "Again? That was too fast. We have time to do it again!"

Not waiting for an answer, Patricia stretched her hand from Phil's cheek to the end table and brought the second Trojan to her mouth. Faster than he could protest, even had he wanted to, she opened the foil and pushed her hands below his waist. He closed his eyes and enjoyed her deft fingers as they pushed the latex sheath into place and unrolled it snug to his pubic hairs. Then she spun two-hundred-and-seventy-degrees to her right and hunched under the covers facing the headboard in an A-frame crouch on her shins and forearms.

Quoting herself, after her spanking at the Plaza Hotel, Patricia grinned and said, " 'You have my attention, Uncle Phil.' Now, do me like you did it before!"

Shaking his head and wondering what he could do to corral this so-excitable and so-exciting filly, Phil got on his knees behind Patricia's ass then pushed his bound boner between her thighs and onto her vulva. She reached down with her right hand to guide him home, but without him realizing, she unrolled the Trojan right over his mushroom and off before she pushed him where she most wanted him to be. "Yes, Uncle Phil," she praised. "There. Right there. I itch so much! Scratch me.

Hard!"

Phil was both sensually supercharged and oddly desensitized from Patricia's legerdemain. He was thrilled to be where he was, but had no idea how thin the ice was for skating. "Oh, Trixie, Honey," he sighed as he slid seven-inches into her and felt her welcoming cunt collapse into its closest cosseting cuddle around his cock.

Patricia twerked her bottom and rolled her hips encouragingly as Phil stroked smoothly with renewed control. He pushed deep, held, then retreated partially and held again. Thrusting forward, he pulled nearly all the way out before flexing upward and scraping her G-spot on his way back in. She hugged a pillow under her face, chewed its corner and enjoyed the melting sensation in her stomach.

With her exposed ear, Patricia listened for her stepdad's expected known pre-ejaculation noises. His huffing grunts and groans inspired her own tremors. Her right hand still lay between her knees, holding the removed rubber. As she sensed his approaching crisis, she dropped the condom, raised her hand to her clitoris and twiddled it vigorously.

Phil's shrinking scrotum coddled his walnuts as they staged a second eruption. Patricia alternately crushed and released his pillar like a milking machine. With his pulse roaring in his ears, he raised his head and roared from his chest as his reserved seed roared forward to assume their nature-driven duties. She thrust her ass backward against him as if she could add speed and shorten the distance for the winning sperm's quest for her egg.

When Patricia was certain her uncle had no more baby-stuff to deposit in her nest, she fell forward and triumphantly hugged her pillow as she exulted in her head, "That had to do it! It felt so good! So deep! So long! I just know we just made a baby!" As Phil collapsed beside her, she rolled over, dragged the unused condom between her lubricated labia, and then held up the limp gooey latex for him to see. "Oops, Uncle Phil," she said disingenuously but with perfect inflection. "It looks like this fell off and there's nothing inside it." She patted his face softly and added, "So it must be that all of you is inside me. But let's not worry. Ninety percent of the time a girl doesn't get pregnant, right?"

Suddenly, Phil sat bolt upright in the bed and exclaimed, "There's your mom's car! She's home! We'll have to talk about all this later, but right now, get dressed just as you were when we got home!" Running from the room to the master bedroom, he called over his shoulder, "Hurry, Trixie!"