Defiance Hot Mama Stahma

"We're alone," Christie said.

Alak looked up from his perusal of his father's book—a stupid bit of homework when the money changing hands was already counted six ways from Sunday. His future bride stood in the corner, idly toying with the curtains before... the baths.

"Feels like we're never alone."

"But we are now," Christie persisted. "Your parents have gone into town to speak with the mayor. All the servants have gone to their quarters for the night. We could do something."

"We could do something whenever," Alak replied. For some reason, he didn't like how Christie was wheedling at him instead of coming straight-on like usual. It was too... Castithan.

"Not in the baths." Christie took a step through the curtains. She was playing with the buttons on her blouse now. "It's against custom to take a bath alone, isn't it? Hadn't you better join me?"

"But those are the

family

baths..."

Christie finished playing with the buttons. "Aren't I going to be part of the family?"

That was direct enough for Alak.

***

Stahma walked home with her hands together, hidden in the voluminous sleeves of her dress so none could see how her fingers clenched into points of pink rage. She'd spoken out of turn—

once—

and despite the fact that she'd been

right,

Datak had seen fit to excuse her. Apologizing for his wife being overtired, saying she had better go home and rest before she said anything more—controversial.

Stahma had taken the escape hatch, but she still chafed at her flight. The negotiations for Defiance's shipping contract would stretch on for hours more; Datak could've used her insight, but he'd sent her away in his fit of pride. Foolish man. Always having to be

handled,

like Alak as a crying infant.

It was a petty vengeance she'd planned, but enough to salve her petty heart. She would go to the baths, alone, think of Kenya a great deal, and use many, many 'assistants'. By the time Datak returned, she really would be too tired for his nonsense.

When she went to the baths, though, she was not greeted by the taboo privacy she had expected. Indeed, she couldn't believe

what

she saw. But no matter how she gasped, how many times she blinked, it wouldn't go away. It was as real as she, as real as shame, as real as honor. And no matter what her shock or sickness, she couldn't look away.

"Alak," she whispered under her breath. "What have you done?"

Stahma still thought of Alak as her little angel, no matter how he had grown. What Datak saw as insolence, Stahma tolerated merely as a child's shortsightedness. But now, seeing him doing this—she couldn't even recognize him. Especially with his face buried in the dark curls of Christie McCawley's groin, she herself spread-eagled in a bath. The water draped over her nude body, half of it emerging like a chain of islands, the rest submerged.

"Make me come!" Christie moaned, scorching Stahma's eavesdropping ears. "Shove your tongue up my cunt so I'll come!" She squirmed in the sloshing water as Alak obeyed readily, smacking his lips with her sweet taste. And, as her future daughter-in-law climaxed, Stahma had one more reaction to the shocking sight.

Envy.

It had been so long since something like that had happened in her marriage bed that Stahma could almost not believe a man could do it. She'd had to go to Kenya for such a thing. With Datak, you'd almost believe there was something disgusting about her sex. For all he seemed to hunger to have his phallus inside, his tongue avoided it as if the two were simply not meant to go together. Like how it was natural for a cake of soap to be run over your body, but ridiculous to try eating it.

"Don't stop!" Christie cried, thighs shaking, upper body and young breasts wrenched out of the water. "I'm coming so hard, baby, it feels

sooo

good..."

"I wanna fuck you," Alak replied, almost whining, his mouth still in her twat.

"Then quickly, quickly!" Christie panted. "Get your cock in me before I stop coming!"

Alak moved fast to obey and for the first time, Stahma saw her sex. It was beautiful, coral pink petals of tenderness and softness, very lightly dusted with a dark peach fuzz, everything moist and succulent, quivering and tight. Stahma had nothing against Kenya's, but she shaved her pubic hair to satisfy the desires of her other clientele. Christie was quite natural, the dark hair painfully exotic.

Her own pinkness throbbed maddeningly. She reached down and was surprised and unsurprised to find herself soaking wet beneath her bathing garments.

They were fucking now, Alak's cock sawing into her as she continued her orgasmic moans. Stahma could see and hear it all even better now that she'd drawn closer. She could actually hear the blood rushing through Alak's veins in a pounding rage, flushing his flesh, stiffening his cock. He must've been able to feel every nerve ending in his cock as it dug into Christie.

"Oh fuck, I think I'm coming again! Don't take it out! Keep fucking me!" Rushes of pleasure kept tumbling down from on high, impossible for her to know where one finished and another began. Her whole body was consumed with ecstasy, shrunk down to the tight little pussy being held open only by a stiff, throbbing cock. "Keep on fucking me until we come! Until I'm full of your cum!"

Christie's Earth dirty talk, far more aggressive and unrepentant than submissive Castithan lovemaking, sent Alak over the edge. He couldn't hold back, not when her cunt was squeezing his prick, begging him to let go, begging for his jism. He fucked into her up to the balls, again and again, short quick strokes keeping her pussy convulsing with each plunge. He felt his load building, throbbing inside him, a spreading fire.

"Fuck me, fuck me!" Christie urged him. "God, your prick's like fucking steel inside me! How about I play with your balls?"

Alak groaned just at the thought. "You know how much I like a good squeeze when I'm fucking you!"

Christie's hand dipped into the water with a soft splash. Alak groaned anew. "Well, I want you to come in my face this time!"

"Then you'd better

make me

come," Alak grunted.

Christie's long legs broke the surface, scissoring around Alak's waist as she wiggled herself against him. His face reddened to a shade of maroon, his mouth going slack. "I can't hold it any longer!" Alak grabbed her tits like they were handles, using them to pound himself into the depths of Christie's cunt. "I'm gonna come!"

"Then pull out, shoot it all over me,

come

all over me!"

Alak shook his head. "Can't! Gotta—"

He stiffened suddenly, gasping as his buttocks clenched, his body shaking, Christie clenching her teeth as she felt him spend in her. Her mouth fell open as she was pushed into her own orgasm by his shuddering cock. Alak suddenly moved, spasming with quick pumps into her, filling her with more cum to billow out into the water. Christie's eyes rolled back in her head and Alak exhaled, soft and satisfied, before pulling out and dribbling the last dregs of his orgasm onto Christie's groin and belly.

She slapped him.

"What?" Alak laughed, rubbing his cheek at the light hit, sagging back onto the other side of the tub.

"You can't come in my face? You know how many people would love to come in my face!"

Stahma could think of one right now. She'd just realized that the thing clenched between her thighs was her hand. She was rubbing her cunt. The crotch of her panties was wet with hot juices soaking right through it, trickling onto her hand and thighs. She had never been so horny in her life. It was like life had pushed her, shoved her to this point of ultimate frustration. And as always, when pushed, when backed into a corner, Stahma dispensed with pleasant fictions and seized what was required.

Ignoring the twinge of jealousy within her, smoothing her bathing garments to her body with a shock of pleasure that nearly made her gasp, Stahma stabbed into the baths in righteous indignation.

"And what would you call

this

situation?" she asked of them.

Their heads twisted like they'd been pulled by the same string. They stared at her, identically aghast expressions on their faces. They really did make a good match. "Mother!" "Mrs. Tarr!"

Stahma fed her rising anger on their terrified countenances. The feeling of envy was almost entirely subsumed. "Well? Do you have anything to say that might explain this?" she demanded, glaring into both of them.

"We were... we were..." Alak abruptly realized his position and sat up straight, burying his lower body beneath the water.

"I know what you were doing," Stahma finished for him, satisfied at how his voice fell away under her cold tone. "

In

the family baths,

with

each other, not yet married, not yet

anything.

Imagine if you'd made her pregnant, Alak! She would have a hold on you and you with nothing on her!" She was almost trembling with a maternal rage that twined around the gnawing need she felt.

Christie's voice cracked out of her. "I should go..." She reached for her clothes. A piercing stare from her would-be mother held her in check.

"I do not think so." Stahma's cold voice finally froze. "Sit down until I say otherwise. Pray we have this matter settled before

your

father arrives, Alak."

Christie sat down, but Stahma's aggressive act sparked off something inside her. Especially when she noticed Stahma's eyes on the jism running from her cunt, the look of jealousy in Stahma's gaze.

"We're going to be married," Christie insisted. "We were just sort of... practicing for it."

Stahma couldn't work up the parental ire she knew she should be feeling, but she still tried to retain her image, scoffing "That looked expert enough to me."

"Really?" Alak asked hopefully.

Stahma shut him up with a harsh look. "And what do you think Mr. McCawley would say, little Christie, if I hailed him right now and told him what you were doing with my son?"

Christie paled, almost enough to make her look a good Castithan. "You wouldn't."

Stahma looked away, satisfied with Christie's trembling lower lip, her pleading eyes. "No. No, much as you deserve it, I would not bring that shame on my liro."

She approached, walking in a way that brought Christie's attention suddenly to the scantiness of her bathing garment. While they were naked, she was next to naked herself.

"But I can't allow such compromise in my own household. Imagine the dishonor of one of the servants finding you like this. They would have leverage over you for all time. Instead, the gods favor you."

She reached out to stroke Alak's cheek. He swooned thankfully in her favor, her cooling wrath.

"It is only your loving mother who knows of your misdeeds. Not even your father, who would punish you. Instead, I will sacrifice the shame I feel, seeing this despoil, and instead teach. I've 'practiced' myself, from time to time, but I do not leave evidence."

"We didn't exactly make a sex tape," Alak protested.

"No?" Stahma asked him cuttingly. "Who's is that?" she asked mockingly, eyes redirecting down to Christie's cunt. Her slender fingers glided along its length, scooping up a sample of Alak's leavings as Christie gasped, her whole body twitching at the unexpected and unexpectedly pleasurable touch.

Like hidden prey had made a sound in front of a predator, Stahma swiveled herself to Christie. Her wet fingers went to her mouth as if shushing her. "You made it. Now dispose of it. Dispose of the evidence."

Taken by surprise, Christie floundering, staring at the filmy fluid making Stahma's fingers whiter than white. "I... I don't think I should, Mrs. Tarr..." Just opening her mouth seemed to pull the scent of the seed into her nostrils.

Stahma cut her protest off. "You certainly seemed to think you should when I came in here. Do as I say, Christie. Show me what a good daughter you'll make."

Standing back in shock and a certain amount of glee he couldn't hide, Alak watched as Christie's red tongue collected every drop of cum from his mother's fingers. At first gingerly, just a taste, but then she lapped at Stahma's fingers, swallowing quickly, sucking on her fingertips, leaving not a drop. It took her a long time to swallow, erasing the taste from her mouth.

Stahma pulled back her hand, rubbing her fingers together with Christie's saliva. "That's better. But there's still evidence." She smiled, softening her tone. "You've already shown me you're willing to clean up your share. I'll do the rest. It's only right..."

She knelt before the girl, sliding her hands up Christie's dark thighs, warm like they'd been browned by scorching fire, prying them further apart to get at her cunt. Stahma wondered if it was even warmer.

"You're not going to call my dad, are you Mrs. Tarr?" Christie asked with a little startled gasp.

"No, dear." Stahma stared devoutly at Christie's rapt little cunt, her clit standing out, her wetness flowing. Yes. Yes, this would make a good home for her son's cock. Her thumbs moved over the pouting lips, rolling across their slickness, teasing them open and shut, finding sliding them exposedly open. Christie was trembling under Stahma's hands. "And please, call me Stahma. Or Mother..."

Christie collapsed slowly, back into the water, propping herself up on her elbows. Opening her legs wider. "You'll have to go deep... he came really hard..."

Stahma scratched her nail over Christie's labia, just enough to make Christie hunch her sex upward. "I will go where required. Tell me, did my son make you come with his perpetually wagging tongue, or did you need a cock inside you to finish?"

"His... cock..."

"Rude Alak... not knowing enough to satisfy a woman without jamming his

kwofo

inside her. You must watch, Alak, to learn another lesson from your wise mother." Stahma's thumbs converged on the girl's clit, Christie arching up instinctively, her cream bathing Stahma's fingers. "After all, how can a wife be satisfied with only one orgasm?"

"Yes! Oooh, that's nice... nice..."

Stahma purred, "You just relax, darling, and let mother work. We'll get rid of all the evidence, and that little itch as well...

And Stahma swooped down, her tongue out like a charge blade.

Christie wailed like a banshee, her body writhing as Stahma's tongue plowed into her folds, then arched up as Stahma tortured her clit with expert precision. Stahma had thought that only Kenya could arouse her passion so powerfully, but at the first wet sweetness on her tongue, she lapped greedily, hungry not only for the taste, but for Christie's submission to the pleasure Stahma brought her. The girl obligingly quivered through the water, cunt hunching up even as her voice rose to a shrill plea.

"Yes, that's it! Eat me, Stahma! Make the itching stop! Make my pussy

clean..."

She soared up in wrenching paroxysms, plastering her cunt to Stahma's mouth whenever the Castithan wasn't teasing her clit, nipping and lapping at it like an expensive chocolate. But a candy could only be sucked on so long. Sooner or later, it had to be bitten into. Stahma's pale lips closed on the bud; she sucked it even as her tongue continued its expert care.

Alak watched the entire spectacle, delighted at the masterful attention his fiancé was receiving.

"Yes, yes!" Christie sobbed, feeling the beginnings of her first orgasm. She gazed through fluttering eyelids at Stahma's beautiful face gracing her pussy, her voice running around from her, gasping and giggling as her juices painted Stahma's perfection. "Eat me up, Mrs. Tarr!" She heaved more furiously than ever, the water bounding away from her in great splashes. "Eat me all up!"

Stahma's answer was a muffled gasp of "More, more!", barely audible over the noise of her ravenous devouring of Christie's sex. She gouged for all of the cream that Christie could give her, explored every inch of Christie's sopping pussy, finally pumped her tongue in and out with leisurely strokes to make Christie produce even more of her divine liquid.

The sudden tongue-fucking had Christie pulled as tight as a bowstring, lunging up as if the words she cried out demanded it. "

Fuck me with your tongue!"

Despite their boasts, it took time for even a young, virile Castithan to recover from ejaculation. But now, Alak had. His cock had grown too hard to endure any more voyeurism. The sight of Stahma's tongue darting in and out of Christie's sex, both pink and wet and hungry, was just too much for him. Listening to their groanings and surgings, he reached down to fumble with his erection.

Stahma stopped him with a sudden look.

How did she always—

"Son, make yourself useful. I'm a touch uncomfortable, being so overdressed for the occasion."

Obediently, he went to work at the fasteners of Stahma's lingerie. Though Stahma was more than happy to be oblivious to anything but the pussy under her full lips, she was quite aware of him ripping her collar down her shoulders, the overstretched seams tearing in his eager fingers. A shame. She had found the garment most becoming on her. Still, there was nothing to be done; Alak had a long way to go and only time would teach him. She helpfully twisted her hips as the shredded garment was brought over them, her feet slipping out of the heaped wreckage on the floor so she was as nude as her children.

Alak stepped back to enjoy his handiwork and an idea occurred to him. "Mother, why don't you sixty-nine with her?"

As much as Christie might protest, Stahma stopped her oral ministrations to attend her son. "What now?" She slipped her fingers inside Christie to give the girl something to puzzle over.

"You eat her pussy while she's eating yours. You put your ass on her face, like if a six were just an upside-down nine, the two numbers coupling."

"Numbers mating?" Christie shook her head. Earthers could be so strange. Still, it was an intriguing notion. She nodded to Alak. "It's worth a try. Good thinking, son."

"Thanks, Mom."

She shifted until her knees had settled to either side of Christie's head, then lowered her cunt to the girl's face as she returned the stroke of her tongue to Christie's sex. Christie whimpered, nearly oblivious to the fine, almost feathery trim of Stahma's pubic hair grinding against her cheek, then into her mouth. Without quite realizing what she was doing, her tongue left her mouth and entered Stahma's burning sex as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

She tasted Stahma's juices, gulped them down, and stabbed her tongue out for more. Stahma, in turn, buried her face deeper in Christie's sex. She'd felt Kenya's tongue inside her many times, but that was slow and supple. This was frantic, youthful, but still seemed to know just where all her most sensitive areas were. Stahma guessed that Christie had learned

something

about what women liked from what she'd caught Alak doing to her. Good for him.

Within moments, her ass was swaying atop Christie's face, responding in kind to Christie's thrusting tongue. They fucked to a self-made chorus of muffled moans, choked grunts, a soundtrack of sheer bliss.

Alak watched, his shock finally dwindling to nothing. His cock ached and he was dying to pump it, picturing himself shooting off onto those two writhing bodies. But that, in his estimation, would be a waste when you considered the excess of pussy in the room.

Stahma and Christie were singing a duet of mutual need, heaving together in writhing symphony that was birthed in one body and relayed through the other. Their breasts ground against each other's thighs, their fingers dug into quivering asses, both on the verge of orgasm as their tongues blazed at a frantic pitch. The bathwater flew about them like the sea in storm, running from their uninhibited writhing as they drove themselves to a climax that somehow took both women by surprise while arriving completely simultaneously.