The Photo Album Ch 03 1

Chapter 03 - Taking it Real

The next Saturday, I went to my mom's house earlier than usual, thinking to get in an extra hour or so of attic-cleaning. As I let myself in the front door, I heard voices coming from the upper level. The attic access was on the upper level, so I moved toward the stairs that led there.

"You know, Brian," I heard Mom saying, from the direction of her bedroom, "I still miss Jim terribly, and I wish he were still here with us. But right now, I am so grateful that we kept up our foursomes over the years. I don't know what I'd do if my sex life had died with Jim."

"I know," Dr. Rutherford, uh, Brian, answered. "I'm just glad that Gwen and I can be here for you."

I glanced down the hall. The bedroom door was open, by about a foot or so. Quietly, I slid down the hall, not sure if I should stop to peek through the opening, or just slide on by, to the attic access. Alas, given the photos and movies that I'd discovered in Mom's attic in recent weeks, I couldn't help but sneak a peek.

Mom was naked, lying on her side facing away from me, next to Brian, who was on his back, his erect penis standing straight up from his loins, pointing toward the ceiling. Mom was lazily stroking his cock, which was glistening with a sheen of moisture. As I watched, she raised her leg and rolled on top of him, until she was kneeling astride his groin. I stifled a gasp as she groaned, and began to slide back-and-forth on him; I could see his stiff cock lying flat against his belly. Mom was sliding her pussy-lips along Brian's shaft, stimulating her clitoris against the meaty flesh of his erection. Suddenly, with a twist of her hips, and a guttural groan from her throat, she took him into herself. As she leaned slightly forward, I could see his thickness extending from his balls up to her vagina, and disappearing inside her. Slowly, sensually, she rode him, slowly sliding his stiff cock out of herself, then consuming it back into herself.

I found myself transfixed, mesmerized by the sight of my mother having sex with her long-time friend Brian. But this time, it wasn't an old photograph, or a faded home movie, or even a crisp videotape -- I was watching them fuck live and in real time, even smelling the musky scents of their lovemaking. Apparently they had been at it for awhile -- the air from the bedroom was redolent of sex.

Mom's back was turned to me, and her body hid me from Brian's view. I stood there in the hall, transfixed by the vision of my mother fucking her long-time lover, live and in the flesh.

Their flesh had obviously aged considerably since the '92 video, but it had aged very gracefully. Skin and muscles sagged, but both Mom's and Brian's bodies were still firm and toned, especially for a man and a woman in their 70s. Mom's breasts sagged some, and flopped around as she rode Brian's cock, but they were still full and round. Brian had a full head of snow-white hair, and Mom's was a shimmering silver-gray, which she wore in a loose pony-tail that hung between her shoulder blades.

I couldn't see many adverse effects of aging on their sexual capacities -- both their pubic patches were partially gray, although Mom's bush still showed her natural auburn color, and Brian's was still mostly dark brown. But his erection was still stiff enough for her to ride it, and ride it she did. Even with their aging bodies, it was utterly sensual to watch her raise her hips, reeling Brian's cock out of herself, then lower herself again, reeling him back in.

"Don't they look wonderful together?"

I jumped at the unexpected voice, right next to me. It was Mrs., uh, Gwen Rutherford. Shit! I was so busted!

She laughed gently. "I'm sorry," she whispered, resting her hand on my arm as if to reassure me. "I didn't mean to startle you. When I finished my orgasm, it was your mother's turn with Brian's cock; I had to use the bathroom."

"Oh." Did she really just tell me about her orgasm? Or her husband's cock? Or Mom's 'turn' with her husband's cock?

Inside, I was squirming with embarrassment. I'd been caught peeping in on Mom and her lover fucking, by the woman who'd been fucking that lover, who just happened to be her own husband, just minutes before.

"I'm sorry. . . I. . . uh. . ."

"Oh, don't you worry about that, dear. Your mother knows you know about us. It's OK. Heavens, if she cared that much, she wouldn't have left those movies where you might find them. We're all adults, anyway, aren't we?"

"Uh, yeah. . . I suppose so."

"So, do you want to watch from out here, or do you want to come in and join us?"

"Uh. . . I think I'd just as soon stay out here, for the time being. . ."

"That's fine, Jackie. In fact, I think I'll wait out here with you until Brian and Ellen have had their orgasms."

"Uh. . . OK by me." I looked over at Gwen, and noticed for the first time that she was utterly, completely naked. I'd been so focused on Mom and Brian fucking, and then on my own panic at having been caught, that I hadn't noticed at first.

Under her short, silver-white hair, her utterly infectious smile, more wrinkled and weathered now than it had been in my childhood and youth, was still enough to light up a room. Her breasts sagged more than they had even in the videos from 20 years ago, but they were still round and full, with nipples that stood out proudly. Her body was still taut and firm, even if it sagged a bit with the effects of seven decades of gravity. I could smell the musky aroma of her arousal, still lingering from her recent lovemaking with her husband; she really had been fucking him, just a short time before. And her sandy-colored pubic hair was about half-white itself.

As we stood there, watching Mom and Brian fucking through the opening in the door, Gwen leaned into me and wrapped her arms around my waist, with a wistful sigh. I returned her gesture, putting my arm around her shoulder, only remembering after I'd touched her that she was naked. Briefly, I pulled my hand off her, before catching myself, realizing that she was just naked, and wasn't going to bite; my arm around her shoulder didn't entail any 'sexual' connotations, necessarily.

After a couple minutes, Gwen put her hand on mine, and dragged it down to her breast, cupping my hand over it.

"Gwen. . ." I said.

"It's OK, Jack; just humor me. I miss your dad almost as much as your mom does."

"OK, Gwen."

I felt the full weight and heft of her mature breast, feeling it bounce and jiggle in my hand as I fondled and caressed it. I leaned down and smiled wryly as I whispered to her, "You know, Gwen -- for a 70-year-old, you've got really nice tits."

"Damn right I do."

In the bedroom, Mom and Brian were slowly but steadily climbing their orgasmic hill. They had been relaxedly, almost lazily, fucking each other for a while now. I was becoming mightily impressed by Brian's staying power, especially if he'd fucked Gwen to orgasm before Mom climbed aboard. But there he was, his cock still stiff, still probing in and out of Mom's sultry vagina, until at last, her body became stiff, and began to shudder and twitch. "Oh god, Brian," she gasped. "I'm cumming!

"Yeah, baby," Brian gently urged her. "Cum for me. Let me see you cum on my cock."

"Oh, yes, Brian! Oh, I'm cumming! Oh, it feels so good. . . so good, Brian. . . Cum with me. . . please? Will you cum inside me?"

"I will, Ellen. . . hang on. . . I'm close. . . here it. . ."

He groaned loudly as his climax broke upon him, and he sent streams of his semen surging into my long-since menopausal mother.

"Ooooohhhhh. . . ggggoooodddd. . . yyyeeesssssss. . . " Mom groaned. "I feel it. . . I feel your cum. . . inside me. . . Thank you, Brian. . . so wonderful. . . thank you. . ."

With that, she fell upon his chest, whimpering and purring in pure sexual ecstasy and fulfillment.

Gwen and I stood in the hall, taking it all in, marveling at the sensuality of the scene we'd just witnessed.

Then, abruptly, Gwen broke free of our affectionate embrace. Pulling me by the hand, she barged through the half-open door.

"Look who's here!" she said, excitedly.

*****

"Jack!" boomed Brian. "Good to see you, son!"

"Jack?" Mom was a bit startled, as she quickly rolled off Brian, exposing his cock, now lying limp on his loins. At first, she made as if to cover her nakedness, then realized how silly that was. "What are you doing here? I didn't expect you for an hour!"

Aside from the embarrassment of barging in on my mom having sex, to say nothing of who she was hiving it with, I was more than a little embarrassed to be standing there in her bedroom, with her lying naked on the bed, next to a naked man, who not only wasn't my father, but whom I'd known since my childhood by the honorific 'Dr. Rutherford'.

"Sorry, Mom." I felt my cheeks flushing. "I thought I'd get an early start. I suppose I should've thought that you might be. . . I mean. . . Dr., uh, Brian was here last Saturday. . ."

Brian laughed. "Yeah, I suppose that was a little obvious, wasn't it?"

"It's OK; really," I demurred. "I've seen some of the photos. . . and the movies. . . Honestly, I think that what you guys have together is pretty amazing. A lot of love, the way you take care of each other. I just never imagined. . . I mean, my own parents. . ."

Mom spoke. "Do you really think that, Jack? You're not just horribly disillusioned? You don't think we're a bunch of perverts?"

"Naw, Mom. . . When I first saw the 'sailing' photos, I'll admit I was pretty shocked. But when I thought about it more, and when I saw a couple of the movies, I saw the love that you have for each other. It takes a lot of trust to pull off what you guys have done, I'd imagine."

"You got that right," Gwen chimed in. "It was hard enough. . ."

"Damn right it was hard enough," Brian interrupted, laughing.

Gwen smiled at his juvenile joke and waved him off. "It was hard enough as it was, not to think that Brian might have liked Ellen better than me. Or, if we were having an argument, not to call your dad for some 'comfort'." Mom and Brian nodded their agreement. "Thankfully, those things never became big issues for us."

I nodded. "So," I continued, "if you don't mind my asking. . . How often did you. . .?"

Mom smiled. "Remember those monthly visits to Grandma and Grandpa's when you were little?"

"You're kidding me. . ."

"I am not. When you and Scotty (Scott was the Rutherfords' son, the same age as me) got older, and could sleep over at friends' houses, we just sort-of 'flexed' with the opportunities that we were presented with. Then, once you moved out, we got together pretty much every Friday."

I smiled. "You guys really had it all worked out. . ."

"Well," Mom said, "it was definitely worth it."

I had another question. "So. . . if you were having weekly swap times. . ."

"We were sharing," Brian corrected me. "It was always the four of us together. I wouldn't have liked not knowing what Gwen was doing with Jim. This way, it was all open and transparent."

"Sorry," I said. "If you were sharing together once a week, how often did you and Dad. . .?"

Mom smiled wryly again. "Mothers don't usually tell their sons about their sex lives with their fathers."

"Let alone with their best friends," I retorted, with a wry smirk of my own.

"Yes," Mom admitted, smiling at my comeback, "I suppose that's right. Your father and I made love virtually every day, right up until he got sick. When we were younger, it wasn't unusual for us to do twice a day."

"Wow. . . that's a lot of sex."

"We loved each other very much."

"I always knew that."

"But you didn't know everything," Mom said, still smiling enigmatically.

"Was there ever. . . anyone else? A third couple? Or a fourth? Did you ever go to an orgy?"

"OK!" Gwen interrupted. "That's enough questions for now! I was just noticing that Jackie, here, is the only one of us with any clothes on! Come on, Jack, what do you say? All this sexy talk has got me horny again, and Brian can't keep carrying the whole load for Ellen and me both, all by himself." She shoved me down onto the bed and quickly stripped my shirt off over my head.

"We all miss your dad, Jack," she continued. "There's supposed to be four of us here. . . How'd you like to stand in for him, just this once?"

"I. . . uh. . ."

Gwen was fumbling with the button on the front of my shorts. Inside, my erection was rapidly growing, sapping my powers of rational thought. In short order, she had stripped me completely naked. I lay flat on the bed, my stiff cock pointing straight at the ceiling. Immediately, Gwen began stroking up and down along my length.

"Oh, Jack," my mother purred. "I never knew. You have a marvelous cock, my son -- a lot like your father's; maybe even bigger." Then looking at her friend, she smiled and said, "I think you're really going to like this one, Gwen."

"You think?" Gwen said, fumbling around, looking for something on the nightstand. Mom tossed her the bottle of lube, and Gwen squirted a small pool of it into her palm, then began rubbing it up and down on my shaft. The slick fluid, and Gwen's skillful hands, had my cock quiveringly, pulsatingly hard in minutes.

"Gwen," I groaned, "if you keep doing that, I'm gonna cum. . ."

"Don't want that," Gwen chuckled. "At least, not yet!" And, with a quickness that belied her 70 years, she climbed on top of me. With her hands, she placed my lube-slicked cock against her elderly cunt-lips, nestling it between her labia in a sensual genital 'kiss'. Then, with a smile and a groan, she impaled herself on the full length of my erection, my balls nestled against her ass. I savored the sensations of my thick cock buried inside Gwen's mature pussy. This was no photograph, no movie image; this was a real, live, warm, snug, woman's vagina wrapped around my stiff dick. And it belonged to my own mother's lifelong best friend, who might even have changed my diapers, back in the day.

"Oh god," Gwen gasped, "that is so fucking nice." I was only a little taken aback to hear Mrs. Rutherford talking dirty.

Brian chuckled. "It's been awhile since you've had a cock that young, eh Gwen?"

I didn't know about Gwen, but I hadn't had any kind of sex in weeks; probably more like months, if I was brutally honest with myself. In my 20s, I'd been as sexually active as the next guy, and in my 30s I'd had a failed marriage that had lasted seven years, until my wife got the proverbial itch and went off in search of men whose cocks she liked better than mine; at least we hadn't had children together. Since then, I'd had a few friends-with-benefits, but now, in my mid-40s, willing sexual partners were getting increasingly hard to find. No matter, though; my cock was wonderfully warm and snug inside Gwen's experienced, 70-year-old vagina.

Gwen leaned forward, offering her breasts for me to suckle. I smiled, wondering how long it had been since they had realistically been capable of providing milk. Even so, they were beautiful in their own right, and I knew that both her husband and my father had taken great joy from them, for many years. Eagerly, I took her left nipple into my mouth, gently suckling her, savoring the taste and the firmness of her mature tit-flesh, and eliciting a groan from deep inside her.

"Oh god," she moaned. "That's so good, Jackie; suck my tits."

She began to grind herself on my erection, and gently squeeze my shaft with her cunt-muscles. No matter how old she was, Gwen Rutherford still knew how to fuck.

On the other side of the bed, Mom had nestled into Brian's lap. With one hand, he fondled her breasts, while the other was idly stroking her slit. Mom was holding Brian's limp cock, playfully fondling it. Mom leaned back to whisper in his ear, "Isn't this hot? Look at her fucking him!"

Brian smiled and nodded. "Just like Jim, isn't he?"

Mom only sighed, in tacit agreement.

I was getting close to cumming now, but I wanted Gwen to cum before I did, if at all possible. I was straining with all my might to hold off my orgasm, and I'm sure it showed on my face.

"You're getting close to cumming, aren't you?" Gwen asked me.

I nodded my head, unable to speak.

"Well, then, cum ahead!" she said, and began to grind herself onto me with vigorous movements.

"Oh, Gwen," I groaned, "I wanted you to. . ." And with that, my floodgates burst, and rivers of cum shot out the end of my cock, into her. Hell, it felt like all of my internal organs were shooting out the tip of my cock, along with a few gallons of my thick, white seed.

"Oh, yessssss!" Gwen hissed. "Cum for me, Jack. Cum for your aunt Gwen. I want your cum, Jackie -- I want to feel you cum inside me!"

Even as my orgasm crested, and all the cum drained from my balls, I stayed hard for a while longer, still thrusting and pumping inside Gwen's knowing cunt, while she squirmed and writhed through another orgasm. At last, her climax crested, and my cock began to soften. She fell forward, lying on top of me as we both caught our breath.

"Thank you, Jackie-boy. It's been a long time since I've cum like that."

"Ummmmm. . . me too. . . you're welcome?"

I looked over at Mom and Brian.

"Nicely done, young man," Brian chortled. "It's been a long time since I've made her cum like that, too."

Mom reached out and stroked my face, smiling. "Your father would be so proud. . ."

*****

We cleaned ourselves up and wandered down to the kitchen, still naked, while Mom warmed another batch of her deluxe oatmeal for us and Gwen (it was becoming quite natural now to use first names for the Rutherfords) made coffee. We all sat around the table naked, bantering happily about the morning's sexual festivities, and the previous night's.

Brian and Gwen 'casually' asked if I'd like to join them regularly for their Friday foursomes, filling the spot Dad had left open. I looked toward Mom, who just smiled, wordlessly telling me that she liked the idea, as well.

"It's definitely an appealing thought," I replied.

When breakfast was over, we all sighed, and began wandering around the house, retrieving our clothing. When we were all fully dressed, Brian and Gwen warmly kissed and hugged Mom and me, and headed for the door.

"Next time!" Gwen said, cheerily.

"Unless, that is, you need me sooner," Brian chimed in, drawing an elbow in his ribs from Gwen.

After the Rutherfords left, Mom and I sat at the kitchen table together, finishing one more cup of coffee before we headed up to the attic.

"Mom," I said, "I had no idea."

"No reason you would," she answered.

"So. . . why did you leave the photo album where you knew I'd find it?"

She sighed. "It's complicated, Jack."

I wasn't going to let her off quite that easy. "Complicated how?"

She looked at me again. It was an odd look, as if she were pondering how, of even if, she should say what she was thinking.

"Well, Jack," she began, sighing heavily, "How shall I say this? . . . Once a week with Brian, or twice if Gwen doesn't mind, really isn't a replacement for every day with your dad. I've been wondering about how to ask you. . . I mean, if you're really going to join our foursome. . . God, this sounds so cheesy. . . With your dad gone, you're really the man in my life now. . ."

My jaw hit the floor.

"Come on, Jack," Mom said, as she stood from her chair, "Let's go clean the attic. . ."