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by Lauren McAllister
I’d been dating Michael for about 5 months, which basically means I’d been having sex with Mike for about 5 months minus 1 ½ dates. While my orgasms hadn’t exactly been faint inducing, he seemed like a great guy (especially compared to some of the creepy mutants I’d come across at singles bars and on blind dates) and we seemed somewhat compatible (I liked to eat and he liked to buy me dinner). In fact, we’d been getting along so very well it was no real shock when he invited me to go out of town for the long weekend to meet his mother. While meeting the momsy of the man you’re fucking isn’t exactly a treat on the level of having a ménage et trois with a couple of fireman, it was the next logical step in our relationship, right? Well, it was a “step” but it turned out to be anything but logical.
Glennis lived in a small town about 100 miles from Baltimore. It was a picturesque little place and she lived in the charming little cottage down a long, flower-lined pathway. Just the sort of bucolic paradise where someone would get savagely murdered in an Agatha Christie novel.
“Mom” was considerably younger than I had envisioned and still quite a looker. She was very kind and welcoming and friendly when we plopped ourselves down at her front door. I received a big hug and was immediately granted full access to anything in the house and handed a big glass of wine. You could tell that Michael thought the world of her. It was heartwarming to see them together, especially after the first seven or eight ounces of my complimentary vino.
Dinner was a delight. For one thing, it wasn’t my cooking. Unlike moi, Glennis really knew her way around a spice rack. Everything was yummy and the conversation was light and erudite and I had another big glass of wine. Yum!
It wasn’t till after the meal that events took a decided turn toward the unusual. Mikey yawned and stretched while sipping his fireside-warmed Courvoisier XO.
“Oh you poor baby, you look so tired,” frowned his mother. “Let me give you a quick bath and you should go straight to bed.”
Give him a bath?!
Glennis turned to me. “You can come and watch if you’d like.” She smiled warmly. “I’m sure you’ve probably seen Mike in the buff by this point in your relationship.”
She walked over and held out her hand, which Michael took and was led into the small bathroom. I followed, almost too stunned to speak. The butterflies in my stomach felt like they were giving birth, I was so unnerved.
Glennis did everything. She took off his shirt and then got down on her knees and unzipped his pants as the bath was filling up with sudsy water. Down went his jeans and down went his underwear. Michael’s floppy cock was waving around only a half in from her nose! This was obviously a much closer family than I had imagined.
“Oopsy, you’ve got a bit of fluff in your foreskin,” she remarked, grabbing a hold of his knob and carefully removing it with her fingertips. “Now into the tub, Mr. Grubby.”
Michael complied without comment as she lathered up her hands. The next five minutes were some of the most shocking, icky, awkward and sensual I’d ever witnessed. The way she slowly spread the soap up and down his arms and chest and then drizzled water over his limbs to wash them clean. By the time his mother had worked her cleansing magic up his legs and thighs, Mike had a full on boner. It was twitching, he was so turned on.
“Oh, I see Mickey has his rocket for mommy, tonight,” she giggled and gave it a little pat. Glennis turned to me. “It’s actually a little easier to clean when he’s at full mast.”
I smiled awkwardly at her and nodded, like this was a good tip to be getting (What and idiot!).
Mike leaned back in the tub as mom gently pulled back his foreskin to expose the rock-hard fleshy head. He pleasurably sighed as she wrapped her soapy hands round his shaft and proceeded to wash his brains out. Up and down she pumped her foamy fist on his rod until you couldn’t see it for suds. My mind was reeling as Glennis scooped up handfuls of warm water and rinsed his genitals within an inch of their lives. Should I hightail it out of this house incestuous house of horrors before things got really strange? I was a hundred miles from home with no car and maxed-out credit cards. What to do?
“Okay, time to make like a doggy.”
Michael flipped over on his hands and knees like a trained poodle and had his back and buttocks scrubbed. Glennis then soaped up her ring finger and inserted it into Mike’s asshole! And rotated it around? How many guys get corn-holed by their mother in front of their girlfriend? I was learning far more about this family and its little traditions that I cared to know. Once his colon was hygienically violated, there was only his nutsack remaining and she pulled out all the stops for the little fuzzy packet he had dangling between his legs. The way she treated his balls, made me wish I had a pair. The tender fondling and expert manipulation of his boy bag must have felt like the deluxe tour of heaven.
Once out of the bath, mom toweled him dry and finished the task by kissing each testicle and then the head of his penis. She turned to me, still holding his freshly washed and snogged dick in her hand. “It’s just a silly little after-bath-time fun we have. I think you’ll find that he’s ready for you now.” Glennis gave me this knowing wink that made me feel decidedly queasy from the pit of my stomach, all the way down to the tip of my clitoris.
But, she was certainly right about Michael being “ready”. He fucked the hell out of me that night. Big he-man thrusts and fingers up my ass and nipples practically licked right off my tits. It was like I was having sex with a stranger (not that I was complaining). I came four times and two of them were worthy of being put in a museum! When loverboy finally got off me and my eyes began to refocus, I noticed that the bedroom door was ajar. I knew I’d closed it on the way in. Was mommy looking in on us?
The next morning, I was totally bewildered and perturbed. Was Michael boning the tar out of me last night or his mother by proxy? It was really hard to tell. A sensible person would have thumbed a ride home with Mike Tyson to get away from that scary but then…I had this wonderful tingly feeling between my legs all through breakfast that told me, “Different families have different ways of relating to one another, just relax.” I may never ask my pussy’s opinion or advice on anything every again.
The next 24 hours went pretty well. More wonderful cooking, additional large glasses of wine, slightly over-affectionate mom/son stuff and an assortment of mind blowing climaxes to finish of the day.
On Sunday morning, it began to rain. The oh-what-a-crack-up local weatherman said that we were in for a big storm and should take proper precautions on the roads. Then he inhaled a large balloon of helium and waddled around the studio, flapping his arms like wings and quacking like a duck. I fucking hate local news stations.
As the day wore on, the sky’s mood soured considerably. Giant lashes of precipitation strafed the town in cold, hard waves. By soggy twilight, ominous rumblings from ill-tempered clouds could be heard making their approach. To tell you the truth, I didn’t really care. I’d had a sufficient amount of wine at and after dinner to sooth any pangs of worry that might seek to perplex me. But then, Michael leaned over and whispered in my ear.
“Mom’s deathly afraid of thunder.”
“Perhaps it will calm down before bedtime,” I hypothesized as I happily floated around my own head.
“Well, if it doesn’t, she’s sleeping with us tonight.”
My merry little brain boat crashed and sank upon this revelatory rock. “Listen, I have put up with a lot. I’ve been a really good sport, and then some, this entire weekend but I am not bedding down with your mother tonight.”
“Well, if you won’t, then I’m going to have to go and sleep in her room.”
I liked this idea even less, for obvious reasons.
“Well, what the hell does she do when you’re not here?”
Michael became very uncomfortable (That made two of us!), “She has to go and sleep over at the neighbor’s and he does off putting “things” to her.”
“Like give her a bath?”
“It’s your decision, of course, but my mind is made up.”
I had another glass of wine.
By the time we were ready to retire, there was heavy thunder and lightening, the only thing missing was a plague of locusts (Though it did feel like a night that was just begging for some kind of biblical retribution). I can tell you, I’d had any number threesomes in the past, but walking into that room with my boyfriend and his mother was about as fucked-up as things could get. While Glennis turned down the sheets, I grabbed my unused (so far) nightie and ducked into the bathroom. When I came back out though, mom and Michael were both lying naked on top of the sheets, giggling away like two schoolgirls. Mike looked over at me. “You’re not going to wear that, are you?”
“It’s stormy and cold out.”
“Believe me, you’ll be plenty warm with the three of us in this small bed, sweetie,” my hostess informed me.
Now I knew what Red Riding Hood felt like standing next to Grandma’s bed.
“Come on baby, take it off.”
I stupidly agreed to remove my night-things (hey, I’d been drinking) but only after I was safely under the sheets. The bed was so small that I had Michael’s naked body pressing against my right side and “mom of the year” squidged up against my left. I could feel her erect nipple on my arm and Mike’s erect penis on my thigh. It was totally, 100 percent horrific.
“Can someone turn out the light?” I queried.
Glennis lay across both of us and reached for the switch, dragging her tits across my face.
“Why don’t we leave it on? You know, just in case the thunder gets really loud.”
Back came the tits and the light stayed on. About thirty seconds later, I felt Michael’s hand sliding up my leg.
At this point, I had pretty well decided that this was the last night that I was ever going to spend with this weirdo. We were done. My two bedmates however, had obviously had something brewing for a long long time. Now that I was no longer emotionally attached to Mike, the thought of watching a guy fuck his own mother had a certain titillation factor to it. Hey, they’d obviously been dying to do it for years. I would just be helping them fulfill that dream.
I gave his shaft a quick friendly squeeze and the I flipped over to face Glennis. She looked more than willing to get into a little girl-on-girl fun, so I gave her a big wet kiss. The lady of the house did not protest. Her hands were all over me. I’m mostly into guys, but I have to say, no one works a nipple like another woman. She was masterful. Her hands and then her tongue turned my areolae into tingly pavilions of joy. Seeing as she was halfway down to my honey pot already, I have her shoulders that little meaning nudge that my own shoulders had received so many times from gentlemen of my naked acquaintance. The universal signal to “go down on me now!”
While all this was going on in my front, I had Michael working his manly magic on my back. I could feel his rock-hard penis shoved deep into my ass-crack as his hands caressed my upper legs and hips. Glennis had maneuvered herself into place and was sliding her tongue to and fro between my inner lips and circling the very aperture of my woman hood. It was exquisite but I couldn’t let my own cunnilingual pleasures distract me from my unholy mission. I reached back with my right hand and while Glennis was licking the daylights out of me, I grabbed a hold of Mike’s knob. Spreading them ever slow slightly, I guided his erect tool between my legs, soaking it in my pre-orgasmic dew as I nestled it in my lower vulva.
Momma was doing an unbelievable number on my clit as Michael’s pee pee poked through like an eel peeking out of a corral reef. She hungrily devoured his head and shaft which started them both moaning like swine flu victims. I had done it! Glennis was now sucking her own son’s cock! Okay – I know it was way perverted, but I’d had a lot to drink and this was really turning me on. I grabbed mom’s hair and roughly pulled her head back and forth over his cock and my pussy. She was slurping on me and her son’s dong like it was a banana covered in chocolate chip ice cream. I don’t know about Mike, but I was absolutely loving being dined upon. This may have been one seriously demented household, but the sex there was completely off the charts.
Alas, this was not all about me and my swollen, throbbing love-button. The “big maneuver” was about to be executed. They were obviously dying to get it on together; I just needed to facilitate it in the correct way. Slowly, I lifted my top leg up, allowing her sopping wet mouth more and more access to Michael’s cock. Pretty soon, my little yum nub was all but forgotten as Glennis reached in and joyfully kneaded those balls that she’d so lovingly washed the other day. Now, she was practically deep-throating him and the bottom of my cunt was resting on her forehead. From there, it was relatively easy to swing my leg over her and push myself up and out of their way (and believe me, I didn’t meet with any resistance).
Once free from being the meat in a naked girlie sandwich, I set about my Oedipal mission with gusto and verve. While I really like kissing other women (and the odd bit of chest play), I don’t eat vag, but this was in a good cause. I pulled mom off her son’s joystick and positioned them next to each other. Now, I went back and forth. I’d suck a little cock; eat a little pussy – each time pulling their naughty parts just that little bit closer together. After a few minutes of bi-oral administering, I had the “innie” and the “outie” mere centimeters apart. I gave a few quick sucks on Michael’s knob and (instead of going back in for another face-bath) I rubbed the head of his pant monster up between her quivering bubbling vulva.
They say to never get between a mother and her cub and boy were they right. As soon as I’d worked Mike’s first inch or two into Glennis’ vaginal canal, he slammed the rest into her so hard, it almost broke my hand. From that moment on, it was stand way back or get hurt. Mike was on top of his mom in a flash. Her legs were up in the air and he was humping her like he had a train to catch. She started screaming, “Fuck me! Fuck me!” I just opened up my thighs and started wanking it to the rhythm of their cock-in-cunt slapping sounds. It was so bestial and primitive and sick that I just couldn’t stop pounding myself. She stuck fingers from both hands up his asshole at the same time. His tongue was so far down her throat, I’m surprised it didn’t meet his dick coming up the other way.
As they writhed and moaned and committed incalculable abominations in the eyes of God, I had my first gut-busting orgasm. My head began to spin it was so intense. I’m surprised the ends of my fingers didn’t blister from the raging fire burning on my clit. The savage abdominal spasms caused me to make these jerky motions in my torso, like a cat when it’s just about to throw up. Glennis must have been close herself because one second her legs were wrapped around the small of his back and the next they were down on the bed, as straight as two by fours.
Boom! She started to buck like a rodeo bull shitting thistles. Obscenities that would have made Howard Stern blush burst forth from her orgasmic larynx. I was heading for an encore climax when Michael made that retching sound he always makes, right before he pops one. Momsie reached between her legs and grabbed his balls to milk every last drop of gooey cream out of him. As he was filling her uterus with his unclean spunk I was convulsing anew. I squirted all over her bed sheet as round after round of high-caliber cum bullets riddled my insides.
The rest of the night was a lesbo-incesto sexual smorgasbord. Cocks and pussies swirled around that mattress, creating a carnal kaleidoscope of sin and depravity. Michael fucked me and his mother ate his creampie out of my vagina. I got to guide my ex-boyfriend’s (only he didn’t know he was “ex” yet) dick up Glennis’ ass. Man, he ripped his mother’s butthole to pieces. He pounded away on that sucker till he was practically cumming blood.
In the morning, the three of us just stared at each other in silence and shame. What was I thinking? God was I sore (But probably not as sore as mommy dearest’s backside!). We all quickly got dressed, ate breakfast like we were the only one in the room and packed the car.
As soon as I got home, I changed my phone number and the lock on my apartment door. I took the next two days off work to cry and ritual bathe with soap I purchased from a local church gift shop.
Thoroughly disgusted didn’t begin to dent the surface of my own self loathing and revulsion (though, I wouldn’t have traded the experience for the world – why is that?).
It wasn’t till about a month later that all things weird and whacky suddenly began to make a little sense. I was out shopping for clothes (and a new boy toy) when I ran into the girl who’d introduced me to Michael. Over coffee, I spilled the beans about my former beau’s pervy predilections and our wicked weekend (I may have played down my involvement somewhat).
“Oh, Mike’s such a scamp,” she giggled. “He does that little performance with every girl he wants to break up with.”
“Notice that he hasn’t called you since you got back?”
“But, with his own mother?”
Dorothy giggled again. “That’s not his mother! Michael maybe a lot of things but he’s not a literal motherfucker. He just says that for the shock value. It’s all a prearranged performance.”
That little shit! I began to feel a little better about myself and my part in that unspeakable night.
“No, Glennis is really his aunt.”
Well, not that much better.
Copyright 2014 Lauren McAllister