Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of fictional mind control, rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, consensually non-consensual (CNC), or non-consensual sex or scenarios.
Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of fictional incest or fictional incest content.
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It was around 10pm. Sammy and his best friend, Jonny, were sitting on the floor in front of the TV. They were trying to act like the two beers they had each had weren't affecting them, but they were given away by laughing overly loud at the dumb movie we were watching. The 18-year-olds were tipsy. Art, who I had been friends with since he and his wife moved in next door to us five years earlier, was sitting in the big armchair polishing off his second scotch. I was on my third. We both had shared a bottle of wine with my wife Ella at dinner, so I knew he must have been almost as drunk as me.
Ella had sat down on the couch with me, "Just for a few minutes to see what stupid action movie my boys are watching before I head off to bed." After the day of sun, a big glass of wine at dinner and the sleeping pill she generally took before bed, it wasn't long before she was lightly snoring, head on my shoulder.
I was about to comment about a not bad stunt scene when I noticed that my son, Sammy, was not watching the TV. I followed his eyes and realized he was looking at his sleeping mother's thighs. In fact, he was looking between her thighs. Ella was wearing pajama shorts with one leg propped up affording our son a view of her crotch. For some reason, knowing he was captivated by such an intimate part of his own mother, made my dick stir.
I was about to slide Ella's leg down when something made me stop. I noticed Art was also not watching the TV. He was furtively trying to see up Ella's shorts as well but being a bit drunk was not as smooth as he thought he was. It is true that Ella is a beautiful woman. At 42 she could easily pass for early thirties. She had a cute, friendly face sprinkled with freckles and chestnut-colored hair that contrasted her ice-blue eyes. With medium-sized, still firm breasts, she was as slim as the day I met her -- flat tummy, hard butt and toned legs.
So, she was objectively beautiful. But her son? And my friend? I'm sure neither would ever have let on if not for the booze.
To this day, I do not know what possessed me. I stretched my arms and said, "I'm ready to switch to beer. Any takers?" Art looked up. He was momentarily worried I had seen him ogling my wife but when I didn't react, he smiled and said, "If you're offering, I'm not saying no."
Despite being tipsy Sammy did a better job than Art at hiding where he was looking, "If you'll let me, I'd have another?"
I nodded, "Sure." Jonny looked to Art, "How about it, Dad? Me too?" Art smiled and said, "Looks like this has turned into a guys' night at the cottage. So why not?"
I chuckled, "Yeah, a guys' night." I stood, gently laying Ella's head on the cushion, and "accidentally" let the unbuttoned cardigan she was wearing over a light blue sheer camisole and no bra, fall open. This left one breast covered only by the semi-see through fabric.
Art paused the movie as I went to the open-concept kitchen, which was separated from the small living room by a counter. As I pulled four cold ones from the fridge, I could see that as Art and the two boys made small talk, my son's eyes were still zeroed in on the opening in his mother's shorts. I'm pretty sure he could see part of her naked pussy from that angle.
As I got back, Sammy and Art happened to glance at each other, and it was clear they realized both had been checking out Ella's snatch. I handed out the beers. Jonny sat up to take his and noticed Ella sleeping. From his angle he couldn't see up her shorts, but he could see her sexy suntanned legs slightly parted and could certainly see her breast with prominent nipple poking through the camisole.
As I sat down, I repositioned Ella so that her legs were spread wider, and the cardigan slid partially off her other breast. I was getting a thrill showing off of sleeping wife in this lewd way. I looked at the guys, they all pretended to be looking elsewhere. "She's pretty zonked from the sleeping pill so the movie won't wake her but maybe I should take her to bed now."
"You should just leave her, Dad. Mom looks comfortable." Sammy said a little too quickly.
Then Art said, "Yeah, Bob. She looks good to m-- I mean, she looks fine." I smiled at his slurred words.
"You guys think she looks good here?" It was at that moment that Sammy and Art both realized they had revealed themselves. Then Jonny, probably the drunkest of all of us said, "I think she's beautiful."
Dead silence. Sammy and Art probably thought I'd end the fun and take Ella to the bedroom. But then I broke out laughing, "So you think Mrs. Oakley looks beautiful?" He nodded earnestly.
"What about you, Sammy? Does your mom look beautiful to you?" My son didn't know what to say. I could tell this was a turning point in the evening. I shifted my weight which pushed Ella forward slightly, causing the cardigan to fall completely to her sides. The camisole that covered her tits was so sheer she was almost naked from the waist up.
Sammy took a swig of beer and bravely said, "Yeah, Mom looks...amazing."
I nodded in agreement and pulled one of Ella's bent legs. Now there was no doubt Sammy and Art could see part of her shaved pussy. "What do you think, Art?"
Art casually moved his hand over his crotch to hide his hardon. "You have a very sexy wife, Bob."
"Thanks, Art. Which means Sammy has a very sexy mom. Okay, we have a consensus. I'll move Ella when were done." And then said, "Jonny, I think you might find Mrs. Oakley even more beautiful if you could see what your best friend and your father are seeing. Isn't that right, Sammy."
Sammy was a deer in the headlights for a long moment. He must have been thinking WTF? But then snapped out of it, "Yeah. Come over here, Jonny."
Jonny did and again, with teenage drunken candor, blurted out, "Oh my god. I can see your mom's pu... Her... I can see your... mom."
Art slid down from his chair onto the floor next to the boys, "The word you're looking for, son, is pussy. Bob, your wife has a beautiful pussy." Then he looked at me and asked the question that took things even further over the line. "How deeply does your sexy wife sleep on those pills?"