The rest of the evening unfolded as if the sexual perversions were merely a dream. Jake and I settled in watching TV, resting our drinks on the same coffee table where I had been hog tied, skewered, fisted, raped. Jake sitting in the same spot were our daughter straddled him and rode his cock till they both came. I tried to focus on the entertainment coming from the TV but the images of what happened in the room kept pushing themselves into my thoughts. I only prayed Jake would not smell my pussy scent. Yes, as ashamed, degraded and humiliated as I was, the scenes replaying in my mind were turning me on.
I looked over at Jake. He was looking straight ahead at the TV. I looked down at his jean covered crotch. My hands reached over and I started to loosen his belt buckle. I again looked at my husband's face, his gaze, still focused on the TV. When I went to unzip his jeans, he raised his ass off the couch letting me slide the zipper down and tug the jeans and his boxers just off his butt. His manly body odor escaping from the confines of his clothes.
His cock was limp, but its thickness evidence of his superiority and dominance. The head lay on his hairy upper thigh. As I lowered my head, while wrapping my fingers around the base of his being, I looked up, he was still concentrating on the show. A relaxed look on his face.
I pointed his limp dick towards my face and sucked the helmet shaped head into my mouth.
My other hand, slide down my side, tucked itself up and under my skirt, down into my panties and digging into my already moist, warm, hungry pussy.
As I washed my tongue over Jake's tool, I felt it stiffen in my fist and mouth. Then a thought shot through me. A most delightful musing. My son's cock. I was wishing it was John's precious, young cock firming up in my grasp, in my mouth.
My fingers dug deeper into my sore but yielding wet cavity between my thighs. My thump manipulating my already swollen clit.
I now concentrated on my husband's, no, my son's cock. I lathered it with my saliva. I lovingly caressed it with my fingers. I took my mouth off the now blood-filled bulbous head and sucked and licked the underside of the now hard cock. I slowly moved down sucking and licking the slight, extended bulge of the canal that would deliver his semen. It yielded to the tip of my tongue when I pressed into it. When I lapped the flat of my tongue on it, it made an indented impression on the flat surface of my tongue.
This was now my son's cock. My precious little boy's manhood, I was worshipping in my mouth. Feeling its power around my fist, against my kisses, my tongue. I smeared it against my face, my cheeks, then I moved head up over it and swallowed half into my mouth. Bathing it with my tongue, sucking it with my lips. My cheeks now indented, trying to draw my baby's sperm into my mouth. A mother, loving her own son's cock.
My fantasy was shattered! Jake placed his hands on the top of my head, forcing his cock to the back of my throat.
He barked, "That's it bitch. You want my dick, then here it is!"
He grabbed a fistful of my hair and proceeded to fuck my face. I gagged loudly each time jabbed his member into my mouth. I held tightly to the base of his dick. My hand acting as a barrier so his cock could not go further down my throat. My right hand still jabbing into my pussy and thumb pressed against my clit.
As his first wave if cum poured down my throat, Jake let out an unrestrained lengthy moan, "YYYYYEEEESSS!" I gulped it down; my gag reflex became nonexistent as I was lost in the throughs of my own thigh shaking orgasm.
Jake's dick continued to pulsate in my mouth sending spurts of his sticky, warm cum into me. My cunt, contracting, vibrating around my fingers trapping them inside me.
Jake released his grip on my hair, let out a sot, "Yes." I pulled my head up and off his cock, sucking the last drop of his sour, musky cum out of his tube. At the same time, I withdrew my fingers from my, this time, self-ravaged pussy.
I sat up on the couch, straightened my skirt, wiping my wet fingers on it. Jake stood, pulled up his boxers and jeans zipped them up, buckled his belt and sat back down watching the TV screen as if nothing had happened.
I turned to look at the show, but I really didn't see anything. The thought of having my son's lovely penis in my mouth, me pleasuring him, giving myself to him, relaxed me.
About an hour later, I excused myself and got ready for bed. I took a quick shower and slipped into some comfortable, uninviting pjs and drifted off to sleep, before Jake came to bed. My last thought, my son, my John coming home.
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Thursday morning, I woke up early. John will be home today. I didn't want to sleep. I couldn't if I wanted. I dressed as Jake snored. I made myself a cup of coffee and was out the door.
The sooner I got to work, the sooner I could ask to leave. I knew that wouldn't, shouldn't, be a problem. I'd just explain my boy was coming home from college and that would be that. The only thing was, I beat my boss, George Wilcox, to work by an hour, so I had to wait to ask. In the meantime, I placed the project reports on his desk a day early. Shit, I'll even ask for tomorrow off.
George came in approximately one hour later. I waited for him to get settled, time to look over the paperwork I had left on his desk. I walked over to his office door, it was open, he looked up, stood, "Mary, come in."
I looked at him. It seemed I noticed him for the first time. He was a big man, about six- one, mid-fifties, his brownish grey was showing signs if thinning on top. He could use to lose about 30 pounds, I glanced down at his groin and wondered how big his dick is.
"Mary?" he said, a slightly confused look on his face.
My head jerked up as our eyes met. What's gotten into me? Am I checking out my boss's crotch?
I stammered, as I looked in his hazel eyes, "George, I'd like to leave early today, if I could, my boy, John, is coming home from college and I..." He raised his hand, showing me his palm stopping me.
"You leave any time you want," he said with a smile.
I thanked him. And, God, he ran his eyes up, down and up again. Was he checking me out? I shook the thought out of my head, "Mary, get a grip."
Again, I stammered, "And, if it's okay I'd like to take a well day tomorrow."
He gave me a smile, "No problem, the reports are done. I won't even count it as a leave day."
I returned his smile, "Thanks boss." I turned and started to walk away.
He called after me, "Oh Mary."
I stopped and looked over my shoulder. He had a wider grin on his face as he looked at me adding, "Enjoy, the time with your son."
His words shot through me. I could feel my eyes darting from side to side. I nodded and walked away. Afraid to turn and see if he was watching me, checking me out, looking at my ass, as I walked back to my desk.
I sat down and glanced around the office. There was some quick eye contact with some of my co-workers, both men and women. Did any of them know? How could they? Could any of them have been there on Saturday? OH GOD.
I looked down, fumbling some papers on my desk. I could feel my face flush. I looked over at Mr. Wilcox's office. No, he couldn't, Jake wouldn't. We are all members of the country club. I've met his wife on several occasions. They've even played golf together.
What new hell is this? It could be anyone. Anyone could have been at the house on Saturday. I threw some files in my briefcase and walked swiftly to the elevator. The door opened and another co-worker stepped out.
"Got off early?" he asked grinning.
I retorted, "What do you mean by that?" Shit, why did I say that?
He smiled, "Huh?"
I meekly apologized, "Nothing, sorry, in a hurry."
We both said, "Bye," at the same time as the elevator doors closed.
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I was still shaking when I got to my car. I fumbled with the car keys as I pressed the unlock button. I sat down, my hands clamping down on the steering wheel to steady myself. Thinking out loud I said, "Come on Mary, just relax, think about what you have to do. Stop at the grocery store, pick up John's favorites and head home. You're off till Monday. Maybe even call in sick." I laughed at the final thought. I turned the key, backed out of the parking space thinking about what I needed to pick up for my son's homecoming dinner.
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The market was a refreshing reprieve. Only thoughts of what i needed to get, occupied my mind. As I drove home, I was planning the evening's supper. But as I pulled into the driveway, Kelly's car was already there. I opened the garage door. Thank God, Jake wasn't home.
I carried the first load of groceries into the house, then another bag with my briefcase. Kelly wasn't in the kitchen, so I busied myself putting most of the food away, leaving the rest out that I would need later.
Now to go change out of my work suit.
I was startled when I stepped into the dining room. Kelly was standing in the living room, her arms folded across her chest. She was wearing a light blue button-down sleeveless blouse, tight blue jeans that showed the sleek definition of her legs and an open-toed, black, strapped, three inched heeled sandals.
I eyed her young, firm body. Her soft, golden hair framed her sweet face. Her outside beauty masking her dark, perverse, sexual inner self. As I examined my daughter, I was so jealous, envious of her youthfulness.