Surrogate Husband Ch. 06bypennylesspauper©
Three days after his father's funeral, Bobby Chandler was feeling glum. He was alone in the house. His mother and Grandma Lilly were out shopping with Donna. At least, that's where they said they were going. April Brubaker wasn't home either. She'd driven her newly repaired minivan somewhere the day before and hadn't returned yet. So much for using the key she'd thrust into his hand the other day only moments after they'd made love. "That way you can surprise me most any time you wish."
The four women he had come to know so intimately were nowhere to be found. He was horny. His hard cock proved that. But, after getting used to having sex with one or the other of them virtually any time he wanted, he didn't feel much like masturbating. It just wasn't the same.
Bobby turned on the TV. It was tuned to channel four and the news had just started. He closed his eyes and leaned back on the sofa. The newscaster's voice was soothing and was about to put him to sleep when he suddenly sat up straight. They were showing a picture of the man at the airport; the one who'd nearly kidnapped his grandmother.
"And, in a segment we call, 'Keeping America Safe'" the man began, "It has just been confirmed by the FBI that this man, Terrence Baker Jones, whom we told you about several days ago is the serial killer the media has dubbed 'Savage Sam' because of the horrible way in which he dismembers his victims. It is alleged that Jones has killed as many as fifty women, men and children in a killing field that spans from New Jersey to California.
"Jones had been on the FBI's '10 Most Wanted List' for nearly eight years before being apprehended several days ago in the airport after attempting to kidnap a female passenger.
"Our sources within the FBI tell us that the person who helped capture this dangerous predator, may be eligible for a reward."
Bobby turned off the TV, looked in the phone book and dialed the number for the FBI in Prairie Town. A sweet and sexy voice on the other end said, "Federal Bureau of Investigation. "This is Agent Jackson. How may I help you?" Bobby identified himself as the one who had helped capture "Savage Sam."
"I hear there is a reward for helping you capture this man," Bobby stated.
"Yes, Mr. Chandler, there is.
"I want to apply for it, Agent Jackson."
After asking if she could do so, she placed him on hold. A few minutes later, the agent was back on the line.
"First of all, let me congratulate you for your bravery," Agent Jackson told him and then paused, waiting for a comment from Bobby. When she was sure there was none forthcoming, she continued.
"Mr. Chandler, you may not know it but, you've come into quite a sum of money." She paused again before continuing. "We've been after Jones for a few years, now. And he wouldn't be in custody now if it weren't for you and what you did. How does one hundred thousand dollars sound to you?"
Bobby sucked in a lungful of air. Unable to comprehend that his simple act of selflessness would be so rewarding, he was left temporarily speechless.
"Of course, we'll have to see you in person," Agent Jackson told him. "Compare you to the surveillance video. You'll have to fill out some request forms, also. Can you come to our offices in Prairie Town? Say. . .tomorrow?"
At last Bobby found his voice. "Y-y-sure," he said haltingly. "What time?"
"At your convenience," Agent Jones replied. "I should be here most of the day."
"I'll call you if I can't make it so we can set up a new time," Bobby told her.
"Okay," Agent Jackson replied. "I'll be waiting for you."
Elated beyond his own explanation, Bobby Chandler was on pins and needles for the rest of the day, waiting for his family to come home so he could share the news with them.
Mother and Grandmother had barely stepped inside the door when Bobby was eagerly telling them his good news.
Louise hugged him and ground her mound against his rapidly expanding cock. Bobby dry humped his mother for a couple of seconds before she backed away, breathless. She let out a deep breath and said, "Let me guess. You'll not be needin' to spend any of that reward money on Viagra. Will you?" She gave his cock a light squeeze.
Grandma Lilly was next. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her tits against his chest. Bobby grabbed her by the hips and pulled her in close. "Not with a steel rod like that in his pants," she quipped.
At that precise moment, April Brubaker was a few hundred miles away, driving her and her daughter back home.
"I'm so embarrassed," April said to Becky.
Becky, in a derisive voice, said, "That only makes the one hundred and eleventh time you've told me."
Mrs. Brubaker glared at her daughter. "You cannot imagine the shame I felt when Mrs. Leonard called me and told me to come and get you."
"Juiceless Lucy?" Becky questioned.
"And then," April continued. "And then. . .when she told me why she had expelled you!"
"Ain't no big deal, Mother."
"No big deal?" April Brubaker squealed. "I wouldn't call being caught naked in bed doing who knows what with your classmate 'no big deal'"
"There're no boys within a million miles of us, Mother. I had to do something. Besides, Old Maid Leonard was probably just jealous that I refused to lick that dried up old cunt of hers."
April Brubaker was aghast. Had her whole family, herself included, gone to hell in a hand basket? "Rebecca Ann!" she exclaimed. "What in the world has gotten into you? I've never heard you talk like this before."
Becky Brubaker just smiled as if she had intentionally tried to invoke her mother's wrath. "Well," she began, "that place you and Dad made sure I went to ain't what it appears to be on the outside. That's for sure."
"Evidently not," April Brubaker retorted. She gritted her teeth and clamped her lips closed in order not to completely blow up at her daughter.
"And keep in mind, Mother; everything that happened to me while I was at L. U. is your fault. Yours and dad's."
Mrs. Brubaker's eyes widened in disbelief. "You narcissistic little bitch," she said. "Your evil mind is what got you into trouble. We didn't do it for you."
Becky was shocked beyond belief that her mother would call her such a name. Outside of an occasional "dammit", she'd never ever heard her say a bad word.
They rode along in silence for another hour before either of them spoke.
"It's getting dark," Becky said. "And I'm getting hungry."
Still tight-lipped, Mrs. Brubaker told her daughter, "There's a town a few more miles ahead. We'll stop there for the night."
Approximately thirty minutes later, Mrs. Brubaker parked in the parking lot of the Holiday Inn. "Come on," she said to her daughter. "Let's get ourselves registered, get settled and then we'll find us a place to eat."
"Better not be no damned McDonald's," Becky said under her breath.
After registering, the Brubaker women dropped their bags off in their room and went in search of a nice restaurant. They settled on a place named, 'Paradise Gardens.'
Conversation was light-hearted during their meal, neither of them seemingly wanting to broach the subject of the conversation they were engaged in during their long, grueling ride. Later, as they approached the hotel, Becky told her mother, "I'm sorry, Mother, for talking the way I did earlier."
"You're a grown woman," April told her daughter. "I keep forgetting that."
"Dibs on the shower," Mrs. Brubaker called out after they had entered the room and the door was secured behind them.
Unbeknownst to Mother Brubaker, Becky's eyes filled with lust as she watched her mother get undressed. She groaned audibly when April took off her bra and her tits came into view.
April Brubaker, now mildly embarrassed, tried to act as if she hadn't noticed the interest her daughter was taking in her. She bent at the waist and pushed her panties down her legs until gravity took over and they fell to the floor of their own accord. She quickly entered the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She turned on the shower and, after adjusting the temperature to her liking, stepped in and slid the glass door shut.
For several minutes, she luxuriated in her hot, steamy environs, feeling the worries and the pressures of the day slowly wash away. Just as she picked up the soap and a wash cloth, she heard the shower door open and close. She felt someone's presence behind her and turned around.
"Becky!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing in here?"
Becky smiled and, without asking, took the soap and washcloth from her mother's hands. "You looked so tired," she said as she lathered up the washcloth. "I thought I'd help you out. Maybe relieve you of some of your stress."
Deep in her mind, April Brubaker knew what Becky really meant when she offered to relieve her stress but, being quick to react had never been one of her strong points. "Maybe," she thought. "Maybe I'm just overreacting because of our conversation in the van."
"Okay," Mrs. Brubaker said. "You do my back and I'll do yours." She turned back around and, over her shoulder, said, "But that's all."
"Sure, Mom," Becky agreed. "That's all."
Inside, both women were wishing that this shower would turn into something more than a mutual back washing, but were hesitant to be the one to initiate the action for fear of being rebuked. They stood there in the shower, mother in front of daughter; daughter behind mother, lost in their individual incestuous thoughts.
April arched her neck slightly as Becky began washing her back. "Ahhhhh," she sighed. "That feels sooooo good."
"What's gotten into me?" the elder Brubaker woman asked herself. "A few short weeks ago, I would have been screaming for Becky to get out of here and to let me alone. I would have called her some very bad names. But, after being with Bobby, my almost nonexistent sex drive has kept me horny most all the time."
April silently chastised herself for wanting her daughter in such a sexual way but, could not make those thoughts go away. Ever since the phone call from Mrs. Leonard, she found herself wondering about how it would feel with another woman's tongue lapping up her juices. She wanted to tell herself that she would gladly return the favor, should that kind of situation arise, but didn't know for sure if she could.
Becky absentmindedly worked her hands lower and lower on her mother's back as her thoughts overtook her. In her sexually charged mind, she knew that, contrary to what she'd told her mother in the van, she was glad they had sent her to such a place. She'd gained an education that wasn't part of the regular curriculum. She'd been introduced to a whole new kind of sexuality. She'd blossomed quickly under her new found friends' expert tutelage and had found herself enjoying her time with them more and more.
Becky wasn't ready to call herself a lesbian. Not yet, anyway. "Technically, I'm still a virgin," she told herself. "I have to get laid by a man before I know for sure." She smiled wickedly as Bobby's face invaded her thoughts. She'd always wanted him. Even when they were in elementary school and knew virtually nothing at all about sex.
Without realizing she'd done so, Becky's hands were now roaming up and down her mother's sides, taking long, slow strokes from her shaven armpits to the curve of her hips.
The elder Brubaker's breathing was becoming increasingly shallower and more labored. Minute electrical impulses surged from her torso directly to her clit, thwarting her efforts to keep herself from becoming aroused.
Becky's roaming hands continued caressing; continued to stoke the fires of her mother's lust until April could stand it no more. When her daughter's hands came to rest on the swell of her hips, she took them in her own hands and placed them on her breasts. Becky immediately began to knead her mother's tits like she was prepping a lump of dough, getting it ready to make bread.
April sighed and shuddered at the same time when her daughter began toying with her nipples while her own hands found their way down her stomach, past her navel and into her forest of pubic hair; searching for her clitoris. She pressed her forefingers against the sides of her hooded clitoris and began lightly rubbing it.
Mrs. Brubaker knew she was about to cross a line that should never be crossed. Her mind was in an oxymoronic turmoil. On one hand, she knew that she should make her daughter stop and let her sower alone. On the other hand, Becky's hands on her breasts just felt too damned good for her to object.
Summoning all the willpower she could muster, April removed her own hands from her clit and, with even more difficulty; she convinced herself to pull Becky's hands away from her breasts. She turned around and faced her daughter. Becky, her eyes full of lust and not yet willing to give up, replaced her hands on her mother's breasts.
Mrs. Brubaker, with a renewed determination to deny her and her daughter's quest for sexual gratification, quickly removed them. Panting with unfulfilled desires, Mother and daughter looked each other in the eye.
"What's the matter, Mother?" Becky asked. "Did I do something wrong?"
"What do I do?" April asked herself. "I can't very well tell her I was enjoying myself now, can I?" She shook her head slowly, gathering her thoughts. "We both were doing something very wrong." With deep regret, she made a very dejected looking Becky get out of the bathroom and wait for her turn to shower.
Mother and daughter, now finished with their showers were lying in bed together, covered with only one sheet, each lost in her own thoughts when April turned to face her daughter and saw a tear forming in the corner of a closed eye. "I'm not angry, you know," she said as she caressed the top of Becky's head.
Becky opened her eyes and turned to look at her mother. She wiped the tear from her eye, sniffled and said, "You sure acted like it."
April, her face filled with compassion, reached out to her daughter and pulled Becky in close. Becky turned in her mother's arms and scooted back until she could feel a set of hard nipples poking through the flimsy materials of their pajama tops. She wiggled her butt and ground herself into her mother until their bodies became almost as one.
"Kind of reminds me of when I was little," Becky said. She looked over her shoulder. "You remember holding me like this, don't you, Mother?"
April snaked her arm around Becky's waist, letting her hand rest over her daughter's belly button. She could feel the tiny tremors of anxiousness that ran throughout the younger woman's body. For a moment, April was tempted to move her hand even lower.
Becky, her body still experiencing the disappointment of unfulfilled desires was hoping beyond hope that her mother would slide her hand under the hem of her pajama bottoms. However, that was not the case. Instead, April Brubaker lifted her hand from Becky's stomach, pulled the top down until Becky was modestly covered before resting it again on Becky's stomach.
"I could never forget that," April said dreamily as she kissed Becky lightly on the back of her neck.
Becky, trembling with a renewed hope and desire, waited for her mother to kiss her again. "Anything," she thought. "Just keep doing something." Becky wanted to make love to her mother badly, but was afraid of getting rebuffed once again. After telling each other good night, they both fell asleep with April's hard nipples still trying to bore holes through Becky's back.
Later that night, Becky awoke with a start. She looked at the clock on the night stand and saw that it was getting close to two o'clock. She turned to look at her mother who was now, lying on her back, spread eagled. It took a bit of time for her eyes to get adjusted to the dimly lit room but, when they did, Becky gasped audibly. Both of April's hands were inside her pajama bottoms.
Becky propped herself up on her elbow and leaned in to get a better look at what her mother was doing. She witnessed what she thought was a slight rise and fall in the groin area of her mother's pajamas. She moved even closer to make sure of what she had seen. Her face was just inches from the elder Brubaker woman's cloth-covered pussy. Becky's suspicions were confirmed. Her mother was masturbating.
Though she was getting incredibly turned on at the sight of her mother frigging herself, Becky remained still; listening and watching for any sign that her mother was awake. With the exception of an occasional sharp intake of breath, Mrs. Brubaker's breathing was slow and measured.
"My god!" Becky said to herself. "She's playing with herself. My own mother is playing with herself in her sleep."
Unable to keep her emotions reigned in, Becky began to unbutton her mother's pajama top. Finished with the final button, she pulled it open, her eyes hungrily devouring April's breasts. She tenderly cradled the nearest tit in her hand, leaned in and gave a tentative lick to the already hardened nipple.
April Brubaker interrupted her breathing with a strong sigh before the normal rhythmic rise and fall of her chest continued.
Becky, now more emboldened, sucked at her mother's nipple as if she were a nursing newborn. Gradually, April's breathing became more ragged and uneven until she was literally gasping for breath. The daughter pulled away from the mother's heaving tit and hovered over her, waiting to see if she had caused her mother to wake up. Gradually, Mrs. Brubaker's breathing settled into a rhythm of uneven, but measured breaths.
Becky waited for what seemed like an eternity before she dared to move. Finally, the desires of her deviant mind took command and urged her into action. She carefully slid down the bed and straddled her mother's sleeping form. She then undid the drawstring that ran through the waistband of Mrs. Brubaker's pajama bottoms.
Exercising an extraordinary amount of self-control and discipline, and aided by her mother's unconscious lifting of her hips, Becky slipped the pajama bottoms down Mrs. Brubaker's legs and over her feet before tossing them on to the floor. Becky carefully spread her mother's legs until she could lie comfortably between them.
At first, she was content just having a close up view of her mother's body as she continued with her self-flagellation. Then, she began to lightly run her finger down her mother's labia as she blew softly on the exposed lips.
Mrs. Brubaker moaned as a light orgasm hit her. Still asleep, her hands left her clitoris and moved sensuously up her body to her breasts and she began toying with her nipples.
Becky seized the opportunity and quickly replaced her finger with the broader expanse of her tongue. She gave her mother's outer labia several licks before she let her lips come to rest on April Brubaker's clit. She gently sucked it between her lips and began to tease it with slow, measured flicks of her tongue across the end of that hardened appendage. She then tightened her oral grip on that sweet little bud and rode it much like she would if she were sucking on a cock.
April Brubaker, still in a dream-like state of mind, used one hand against the back of her daughter's hair and held her flush against her quivering quim. As if that weren't enough, her legs straightened above her as she trapped Becky's head between her squeezing, clenching thighs.
"Oh, Bobby, Bobby, Bobby," she murmured almost incoherently. "Fuck me, Bobby. Fuck me like you did that first night."
"Bobby?" Becky said to herself. "My over religious, overzealous mother and Bobby? The same Bobby she used to chase away any time she saw him come near me?"
Becky grunted loudly as a sudden electrical impulse surged throughout her body and out her now very-inflamed clit. She involuntarily squeezed her own thighs together as another more powerful jolt traveled the same path as the previous one.