tagIncest/TabooYoung Studs for Carol Ch. 04

Young Studs for Carol Ch. 04


Author's note:

After a long time, I wrote another Chapter of Carol's Series. Hope you will enjoy it!

After the long sex session with Carol and her son, John needed a refreshing bath. The large swimming pool in the backyard was the ideal site to recover his energies.

Tom and Nick were resting in nakedness on two deck chairs, in a corner of the patio, in front of a small table and a couple of beer cans.

"Look at him, buddy!" Nick said to his friend, pointing to the naked, glistening body of the giant stud. "The big warrior is back from the battle!! I bet the old chick has been properly served!"

"She squealed like a piglet!" Tim echoed, with emphasis. "The big titted bitch is a hot number! I'd fuck that white ass all night long!".

John jumped into the pool, hitting the liquid surface with a huge and loud splash. For some minutes he floated on his back, enjoying the coolness and cleanliness of the water, at the sunset's light. It was so relaxing!

Then he started to swim, back and forth, from one to the other side, raising heavy and high sprinklings.

When he was out of the pool, he went to a cabin, where he picked up a large towel and dryed himself, with noisy puffs of air.

There was a small cupboard, in the cabin, with two drawers. Drawn by curiosity, the young stud opened one of them and he saw a black, tiny piece of cloth. He took and unrolled it in his hands; then he realized what it was.

He had found the skimpiest bikini bottom that could be imagined: a narrow patch, made just to cover the baby pussy lips of a little schoolgirl, followed by a string of the same material (to be passed, evidently, between the asscheeks), a little bit larger than a dental floss. Both ends of that mini micro garment were connected to a pair of bands, to be tied together around the hips.

No trace of bikini top, in the drawers.

"Aaaaaahhhhh. . . the little bitch!!" John exclaimed. "She loves to show off, the big titted lady!!"

And with that, he figured in his mind the busty woman walking around the poolside and displaying to her boyfriends the succulent boobs, the delicious white buns and the unblemished, smooth skin of her petite body, barely covered by few square inches of cloth.

It was not all! If John had known the origin of that garment, his comments had been much more salacious! And the sadistic desires to dominate the submitted mom-son couple had raised at stratospheric levels. Yes, because the tiny thong had been a gift from Scott to his luscious mom, for her last birthday: a miniature piece of swimwear that was just made, for him, to admire the lovely body of his mother, when she paraded, voluptuously, along the poolside or gave herself into his arms, letting her son cradle carry her inside the pool, and sometimes inside the house, like boy and girl.

"I'll take it later, for my next game with the little pussy," he thought, smiling, as he replaced the micro thong in the drawer. Then he entered the house, to wear a pair of short pants. No more. Soonest he would have taken again the luscious body of the mature wife into his strong arms, skin to skin, flesh to flesh, in an endless orgy of lust and depravity.

When he met with Carol and Scott, they were just coming out of the bathroom. The son had a towel wrapped around his hips; the mom was wearing a white bathrobe.

"Did you wash her?" John asked the boy. And without waiting for his answer, he continued: "Let me check by myself," pulling Carol against his body. The height difference between them was enormous: his seven feet four inches towered over her four feet ten inches, like a giant and a midget.

"Baby, you're too short," he exclaimed. "I can't take my head bent down to you all the time. Let's find a better place!" And in a quick motion he put his hands around her hips, lifting her off the floor, as though she was a weightless little thing. Then he walked with her in his arms to some useful place. Scott followed them.

On the way, after her slippers fell off, her bare feet dangled gracefully in the air: the small brunette was a lovely trophy, the personal plaything of a huge stud.

When they were in the kitchen, John deposited the woman on the table. Now she stood on her feet, and their heads were at the same level. With the help of the table's legs, Carol had made up for the big difference in height between herself and the young stud.

He pulled on the belt of the bathrobe, revealing her frontal torso; then he slid the cloth down her arms and let it fall to the floor: the naked woman was totally exposed to his concupiscent gaze.

"Jeeeezz, lil one. . . you're hot!!" His hands reached out and cupped her breasts, gently caressing the soft, silky skin.

"My god, big guy. . . you always strip me naked!" She whined sexily, covering a little portion of his large palms with her tiny hands.

"Yes, sweety, 'cause you're my toy," he said, as he moved her fleshy globes back and forth on her chest.

"You perv. . . mmmmmmmmmm. . ." She couldn't finish: he had glued his lips to hers in a wet kiss. Quite automatically, her hands went around his neck and she responded to his tongue, as his palms continued to fondle her bare boobs.

Carol's clean body exhaled an enticing scent, after the perfumed bath her son had just given her. It was too much, for the turned on stud, and he didn't lose time; his massive arms enveloped the little woman in a tightening embrace, scooping her body up, without effort: it was so fun to sweep her off her feet and carry her around. She was not a young girl in her first time sex; she was a fifty-two, mature, upper class wife and mother; but her small, soft and gorgeous frame, her silky skin, her succulent flesh had the power to give way to his raging hormones like never before, in his life.

Folded in his sinewy arms, the diminutive woman looked like a little pixie captured by a giant satyr: John had gathered her whole body up to his head level, and his mouth and tongue were exploring the curvaceous hills on her chest, savouring the honey taste of her displayed boobs, areolae and nipples.

Carol felt good, because the stud's oral caresses were gentle on her: she loved to be licked and sucked that way.

"Oooooohhhhhh. . . yeeeeessss. . ." she squealed joyously; he cuddled her and she felt herself protected and aroused, at the same time.

John put a last lascivious kiss on the little mole that so deliciously interrupted the smooth surface of her left bosom, then raised his lips from the pillowy softness and gazed at Scott, her son, with a vicious look in his eyes.

"Great melons, boy," he exclaimed. "Made for fun! You like them, don't you?"

"Yes," was the prompt answer, without hesitation. "I love mom's tits." After having seen all the abuses on his mom's body from John and friends and after having repeatedly masturbated during those torrid sessions, Scott had freed himself from any reluctance and now he was only anxious to give vent to his incestuous passion.

"Do you play regularly with them, boy?"

"Yes, John, every day!"

"Wow. . . and where?" It was so exciting! Mother and son were in his full control and he wanted to prolong their erotic confessions.

"Outside, in the pool, and inside, when we are alone!" Now Scott's words were coming out fluently from his mouth.

"Did you strip her naked, dude?"

"Yes, I saw her in the nude!"

"Did you hear, little mommy?" John asked his sexy prey, who was lightly struggling in his firm embrace: but it was a habit, not a real attempt to get herself free.

"Yes, I heard," Carol whispered.

"And you love having your melons touched by your son! Don't you, little mommy?" The giant was insisting. His lips nuzzled into the hairless hollow of one of her white armpits.

"Yes, yes. . ." she moaned.

"Yes what, little mommy?"

"Yes. . . yes, I love my son playing with my breasts!"

Her words made Scott's cock pulse and throb.

"And you have other men playing with your tits, don't you?"

"Yes. . . yes. . . aaaaahhhh. . ." She shuddered, at the soft, teasing bite of his teeth on her upper arm.

"Who are them, lil one?"

"Hubby," she replied. "And you. . . and your friends, here!"

"Don't make fun of me, whore, or I'll make mince meat of your tender body! Right now!!" His voice had a faltering tone.

"Nooooo. . . noooo, please, I'll tell you!" She was really frightened, now.

"So. . . go ahead!! Who are them?"

"One of my friends!" Carol admitted.

"Only one, little slut? Don't lie again, or I'll rip off your nipple from this lovely jug!" His mouth approached threateningly her left breast.

"More than one," she said, finally.

"Did you sleep with many men in your life?" John was inquiring.

"Not many. . . just some of them, before my marriage!"

"And after your marriage?"

"Yes. . . yes, some petting, some flirtations. . I made love, sometimes!" Carol was murmuring in a subdued voice. She had catched a glimse of Scott and she didn't want her son knew his mom was an easy woman.

But John insisted. "Did you make love after marriage, little pussy?"


"Say again! And call me daddy!" He captured her nipple with his teeth.

"Yes. . . oooohhhhh. . . yes, daddy, yes! I made love after marriage!"

"And not only with that old caricature of husband! Right?"

"Don't talk like that, John. . . please!" Carol implored.

"I'm your daddy, not John!" He was shouting. He ignored her pleas. "And you cuckholded the old wimpy! Many times! Right?"

"Ohhhh. . . yes, daddy. . . yes!" She had surrendered.

"Say better, slut! Say that you cuckholded him many times!"

"Yes, daddy! I. . . . cuck. . . holded him many times!"

"Because you love the young meat, don't you?"

"Meat. . . ohhhh. . . yes, daddy!"

"You love to grasp the younger cocks, don't you?"

"Yes. . . yes, daddy!"

"Younger than your pussy?"

"Yes. . . yes. . . my god, daddy, don't be so dirty!"

"Younger than me?"

"One of them was younger, yes!"

"Same age of your son?"

"Ohhhh. . . I feel ashamed. . . in front of him!" She nodded to Scott, blushing.

"Same age?"

"More or less. . . yes!" Finally, she had admitted.

"Did he feel your tits?"


"Sucked your nipples?"


"Licked your ass?"


"Your pussy?"


"Your clit?"

"Yes. . . . my clit, yes! What else do you want to know, daddy?"

"Did he fuck you?"

"Yes, but only once!"

"And he made you scream and cum! Right?"

"Yes, daddy!"

"Same way as with me?"

"Not like with you, daddy!" Carol said wih conviction. "You are superb; superior than any other guy!"

When he heard mom's words, Scott gave a start. Had her youngest lover the same age of himself? And who was he?

His mind ran immediately to Rudy.

Rudy was Helen's first son. And Helen Boyd was Carol's best friend: a stunning blonde, forty-two, married to Frank. She had given birth, five months before, to the little Jimmy.

Rudy was the son from her first, divorced husband. Now he was nineteen: one year older than Scott. Both of them studied at the same school. Both of them played in the same football team, and Rudy was the captain. A tall, handsome boy, who had already fooled around many girlfriends. The rumors were that he was well endowed, according to what a couple of his dates had privately confessed.

There was another curious thing: many times Rudy boasted that his mother Helen was the most stacked mom in the neighborhood. Despite her short height (only a pair of inches taller than Carol), she had been blessed with a big, round, upturned ass, slender legs and a well shaped figure, as everybody could verify when she walked on the street. But her tits were her main attraction; Rudy assured they were fantastic: fleshy, firm and king sized; two milky melons, as he was never tired to repeat to his buddies, joking on her lactation period. He spied on his mom, he said, when she was nursing the new baby and he admired those swollen boobs, especially when white streams spurted out from those huge orbs.

His words sounded as though he had truly tasted the maternal food, directly from the source, but he had never confirmed it. The result was that everybody, in the classroom, was talking about Mistress Boyd's utters; and somebody, more maliciously, had esplicitly deducted that Rudy, every morning before school, was getting a mother's milk breakfast.

True or not true, one thing was certain: Rudy was proud of his own mom.

"Because he didn't see mine," Scott was thinking in his mind. Only in his mind, however, because he had never taken part in those discussions; he already had the hots for Carol and he was afraid that some improper word, from himself, could reveal his incestuous desires.

"Rudy", repeated Scott in his thoughts, after having heard the confession of his adultery mom to John, who had roughly solicited her to reveal her intimate relationships.

Was Rudy her teenaged lover? What happened between mom and Rudy?.

Like in a flash back, the boy remembered the past events.


The first "incident" happened when Scott's football team won the final game of the school tournament. Carol was the good-luck mother of the team and after any winning match she was kissed and embraced in a friendly way by all the players; it was, apparently, an innocent tradition, also if Scott was getting jealous at the sight of all those hands running around mom's curvaceous body: especially when the summer season started and she was wearing sleeveless, low cut shirts.

That day the team got the cup, but instead of taking the cup, which is a honour for the captain, Rudy ran to the place where Carol was sitting and scooped her up in his sweaty arms; then, always running, he toured around the field, showing her off, like she was the trophy. The woman, after her initial surprise, accepted the role and started waving her hands to the crowd of parents, teachers and students all around. Her smiling face was a confirmation that she was enjoying the unexpected exhibition; all the people were clapping.

When the strong boy deposited Carol back on her feet, he kissed her gently on her cheek and she returned the kiss.

Then it was time for photos; she had been elected, at the beginning of the tournament, mascot of the team and now everybody asked, and obtained, to pose with her. Some of them put an arm around her shoulders in a friendly way, but the majority (including Scott), followed the example of the "captain", because it was much more amusing: they preferred to sweep her off the ground and take a single pose with her, cradled in arms.

Scott didn't mind. They were friends, after all, and it was a justified expression of felicity for the victory.

Something different happened when there was the official photo of all the team. Again Carol was asked, and she accepted, to pose with the group: Rudy wanted her beside him. Just when the photo was snapped, a feminine squeal was clearly heard, followed by Carol's voice. "Nooooo!!!" she exclaimed.

Nobody seemed to know the reason, but Scott, who had turned his gaze to mom, was in time to see Carol fumbling with her shirt and Ruby's hand quickly moving through her upper body.

The photographer didn't hesitate and ordered: "A little trouble, boys! Again, please. Keep still, now!"

As soon as the picture was taken, Scott caught mom and Rudy in a short discussion. Ruby was lightly smiling, while mom looked a little disappointed; but not for long, because she concluded with a kind of fillip on his cheek.

"What happened with Rudy?" Scott asked, when nobody was nearby.

"Nothing, Scott, nothing important," she answered, trying to conceal her embarrassment.

But her son was not satisfied. "What did he do? Tell me!" he said again.

"Nothing! For an instant he slid his hand into my blouse and cupped my breast."

"Did he squeeze your tit?"

"Just a little, honey, but he was joking, nothing more. That's all!"

"I don't like this kind of joke with you!" He was angry.

"Because you want mom only for you, don't you?" she whispered in his ear. "My son wants his mom all for him, am I right?"

"Yes, mom, I don't want other hands on your tits!" Scott was trying to calm down from his anger.

"Don't worry, honey. This evening mom will offer her beautiful, naked tits to her handsome boy. And you will play with them."

"I love your boobs, mom!"

"Do you love to lick them, don't you? Forgive mom and she will let you suck and handle them all the time. Dad is away till tomorrow, so you can see mom in the nude, this evening. She will parade for you in your room, all naked but the skimpy thong you gifted for her birthday. Are you happy, now?"

"Mom, when you are clad in that little piece of cloth, I just want to cradle you in my arms and feel your white body forever!"

He had to stop his incestuous confession, because somebody was coming.

Three weeks after the "incidents" at football field, Scott and Rudy met together. Boyd's house was no more than five miles far from Blum's house and the two boys, like their mothers, were friends: they had grown like brothers since the early years. And now Scott, with the help of mom, who accepted joyously his lascivious caresses, had quite forgotten Rudy's naughty performances.

When he talked with his friends, Scott avoided any reference to what happened that day, after the football match.

He arrived to Rudy's in mid afternoon, around five o'clock, bringing some DVDs they had planned to play, before meeting with two young girls before dinner. They were sitting in front of the screen, when Rudy opened a drawer, just under the equipment, to pick up the remote. A red piece of cloth, which appeared to be a tiny female garment, was in the drawer.

"Rudy," Scott exclaimed mockingly "what's this? Are you on the other side? Far from me, faggot!!"

"I'm not a faggot, you can bet!" Rudy promptly replied, with no embarrassment in his voice; and with his hand he took the red thing, displaying it to Scott's astonished eyes. It was a mini bikini top; and it looked like the same model that Carol was wearing in the backyard, when guests came for some pool party. Only for guests, however, because when mom and son were alone, since a couple of months she used to show off topless. The color, too, was the same.

"Why this stuff is here?" Scott asked.

"It's a souvenir!" Rudy answered.

"A souvenir?"

"Yes, a souvenir from the greatest fuck with the most luscious lady you can ever imagine. What a fun! Now I'll tell you."

Rudy's story to Scott.

A couple of weeks ago, I was walking on the street to my girfriend's house, when a woman, a middle aged one, stopped me, asking for an urgent help. She was upset: the motor of the car had a problem and she was late to her appointment. What to do?

You know my ability to repair anything, especially when it's a matter of car or bike. And the woman! She had immediately aroused my sexual interests. A stunning light blonde, not tall, but with a very well shaped body; she wore a blouse and a skirt; this was cut much more than half a foot over her knees and it let imagine a pair of fleshy thighs; and then. . . you know, Scott, how much I'm taken by the jutting curves. . . well, that hottie had just what I'm dreaming about: her lower back arched into a pair of buns, which were like two upturned, perfect spheres; and her tits. . . how can I describe them? Two king sized melons which stood proudly on her chest, like they wanted to defy the gravity: because, from the way her nipples protruded from the light cloth, it was easy to assume she was braless. Probably, the appointment she had spoken about was with her date. Lucky man!!

She looked to be in her mid thirties: so, when I heard she was forty-seven I was really surprised. No wrinkles on her snowy neck; her angel face, where she had added a very light make-up, was decorated with a little nose, two blue eyes and a mouth, with a crown of white perfect teeth and crimson lips, which was the right target for a throbbing hard cock. When I bustled around the motor and she was close, I didn't miss the chance to feel her upper arm: meaty, tender and silky smooth. I restrained myself, with difficulty, from licking and biting that soft flesh: and how much fun could be to explore her warm armpits and taste the salty feminine secretion!

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