Dude You Slept with My Mom?!

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(Bucket-List Progress: Week 13 - 23/104 = 22.1%)

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Based on our progress so far, I expected us to finish the landscaping work around the Presbyterian Church within in the next two days. After that, Emily and I would start on the parsonage. There was also a wide expanse of grass that they used for youth activities - but we weren't doing much in that space.

"How soon does Maggie want us back?" I asked Emily.

As usual, first thing in the morning, we were carrying our things from the truck. Emily had seen Maggie sneak into the office early and had ducked down the hallway to give her a hug and see what was going on while I finished dressing.

"She said to try to head back an hour early. They need to get your make-up on."

"Make-up?"

"Since you're not wearing your TMNT mask, Maggie is painting your face." My adorable little fiancé laughed and said, "She's got a plan - and she hasn't been wrong yet."

I thought for a minute and nodded. "You're right about that."

She was a step ahead of me on the trip back for more supplies. I eye-fucked her ass for a few steps and then scooped her up, threw her over my shoulder, and ran with her. She swatted my ass but I ignored her. By the time I got her to the truck, however, she had gotten her vengeful fingers inside of the top of my pants and had grabbed the waistband of my underwear - giving me an uncomfortable wedgie.

She laughed at me as I tried to resituate my goodies. She grabbed her next load of supplies, and headed back to our worksite. I ended up having to open the door on the truck (to hide myself) and completely redress, in order to get things unbunched. She came around the corner of the church, saw my predicament, and laughed harder.

"That'll teach you to keep your hands to yourself," she crowed.

"Probably not," I professed.

She looked at me, grinned, and said, "Yeah, probably not."

"What can I say, you're just too adorable not to pick up and carry around like a fashion accessory."

She quirked an eyebrow at me and tilted her head to the side. I scooped her ass up in my arms and started gnawing on her tits through her olive-colored work-shirt.

"Sam! Fuck! Do you know how horny I am? Knock that shit off."

I kissed her lips and pressed my forehead to hers.

"I fucked you when we got home," I reminded her.

"I know. I'm just so amped up about tonight," she said, looking around to see if anybody was watching us. "I think this is gonna be wild. You can practice your Chippendale shit. You'll wear your vinyl Speedo under your regular clothes."

"I thought it was too small," I countered.

"The one I gave Ana Stefanov was - but that's not the only one that Maggie bought. That's just a stage-prop for our little drama to get your cock into Niko's mom."

I laughed and kissed her again - a little harder.

"Okay," she gasped. "You've gotta stop. I'm seriously going to rape you right here if you don't. After you fuck these roller-girls, I'm sucking you clean and then you're nutting in me."

"I love you," I told my lavender-headed lover, squeezing her tightly and kissing her face and neck.

"Sam!" she growled.

I nipped her jaw with my teeth and set her back onto the ground. We grabbed the last of our supplies and headed towards the church.

Two minutes later, Sondra's mom came to check on us.

"Did you two get breakfast?"

"We're good," I said.

"That's not an answer to my question, young man," she retorted, smirking.

"No, ma'am," I replied. "We didn't stop for breakfast."

"I'll bring you a cinnamon roll. Give me a half-hour."

"We'll be here," Emily said, laughing.

We had a good start on the ornamental trees by the time she returned. She gave us hand wipes. I peeled off my gloves and wiped the grime from my fingers. She handed me a small paper plate. The cinnamon roll filled the entire plate.

My fingers burrowed into the soft, warm pastry as I tried to pick it up. I moaned with every bite.

"Good?" Mrs. Anderson asked, laughing softly.

"I shouldn't use God's name in vain while standing by a church," Emily told her, "but I don't have enough vocabulary words to tell you just how fucking amazing this is without invoking a deity."

The minister's wife laughed harder.

When my roll was finally gone, I said, "I've heard people describe stuff as better than sex. Honestly, I've always found that phrase to be repulsive - but that was absolutely the best cinnamon roll I've ever had. Thank you."

She leaned close and used a hand-wipe to get a little icing off of my cheek.

"If I made you two a batch of those, would that earn me any ... uh ... special favors?"

"Yes!" Emily exclaimed without hesitation.

I glanced at my girlfriend and looked back at the minister's wife, grinned, and said, "I think that's a 'yes'."

Mrs. Anderson purred, "I need to pace myself. Maybe a week from Saturday?"

I looked at Emily. She nodded. "That works," I replied.

Our private chef said, "I want to kiss you so badly right now but I'm pretty sure Sondra is watching us."

"She's going to have to step up her game if she wants a kiss," I told the baker.

She shook her head and laughed, taking our trash.

"Barbecued ribs for lunch," she told us. "My husband is cooking the ribs. I'm just making the sides. We'll have to behave. I think he's joining us."

"You're spoiling us," I told her.

"He got a huge number of comments from the parishioners about the church's new look. He was already ecstatic - but that put him over the top. I'm really tempted to ask him if he'd be willing to watch me and Emily service you, but that may be stretching it."

With that, she turned and walked back to the house. Since she had warned us that we probably had spectators, I made a point of pulling my gloves on and getting back to work - and not staring at the woman's most glorious asset - her rounded rump. I did peek - at the edge of my peripheral vision.

"She does have a nice ass," Emily snickered.

"Fuck," I growled, thinking I had been sneakier than that.

"If I wasn't horny before," Emily said, as we worked, "I would be now. Can you imagine the three of us getting it on while the reverend watched?"

"You need to stop or you're gonna get fucked in the bushes," I warned her.

"... and now you know how I was feeling," she replied, snickering.

An hour later, the most mouth-watering smells started wafting our way. I was already salivating. My stomach was rumbling.

"This is torture," Emily moaned.

"I know," I agreed.

We worked a little faster - and tried to ignore our rumbling stomachs.

"I can't believe you told her she could have a free session for some cinnamon rolls," I told Emily, laughing.

"What?" she asked, grinning. "She said we're getting the whole pan if I heard her right. We'll be in a sugar coma for days."

"It WAS pretty amazing," I agreed.

"You weren't lying when you said it was the best you'd ever had," she said. "Before fucking you, I would have easily said it was better than sex."

"I love you, too, Beautiful," I told her.

She claimed a kiss and we worked a little longer.

"You kids hungry?" a male voice called out.

I looked up to see a man who could only be Sondra's dad. His daughter's face bore a strong similarity to both of her parents.

"Yes! You've been killing us with those amazing smells," I said, laughing.

He laughed as well and said, "Yeah, sorry about that!"

Emily and I finished up the tree we were working on, peeled our gloves off, and headed for the garage to get cleaned up. Once my hands were clean and dry, I caught her face and kissed her hard.

"What did I do to deserve you?" I asked her.

"I ask myself the same thing all of the time. Thank you for loving me, saving my mom from my dad, and telling us all of those lies about how we're worthy of your love."

"Please," I said, opening the bathroom door. "I'm pretty sure you two are redeeming me - not the other way around."

We walked, hand-in-hand, to the patio.

"Here they are!" Sondra announced.

"Sorry," I said, sheepishly.

"Nonsense," the minister replied. "Please, sit."

Each of the plates held a rack of ribs. Mrs. Anderson had added an ear of corn, some creamy coleslaw, and a small dish of fresh fruit. I started to grab the ribs but the minister's wife cleared her throat. I paused and looked up.

The Andersons were holding hands. They were, I quickly figured out, waiting for Emily and me to join their little circle. I took Sondra's hand and Emily's. Emily took Sondra's mom's. The reverend offered a short, simple grace.

"Sorry," I said, again, when he'd finished.

"It's alright," he assured me. "I hope you enjoy the food. You two are doing amazing work. I was delighted - but numerous members of the congregation were very effusive with their praise. Everyone was bubbly and excited on Sunday. I can't thank you enough."

"Emily and I aren't used to being fed while we work. I've got to tell you that your wife is an amazing cook and a gracious hostess."

He smiled at his spouse and said, "You are quite right. She's a treasure."

Sondra draped a cloth napkin across her chest and lap and said, "You're gonna want to do this. Dad's ribs are good but they're a little messy."

The rest of us followed her example. I had noticed that Mrs. Anderson wasn't dressed quite as nicely as normal. I'd thought it was because it wasn't going to just be the three of us - but now I wondered if it was to keep from staining her good clothes.

The ribs were so tender that they came apart as I tried to pick them up. Mrs. Anderson was using a fork but the rest of us were up to our elbows in tangy crimson sauce.

"Fuuuu---" I started to moan.

Every eye around the table looked at me.

"Sorry!" I gasped. "This is ... uh ... I don't have words that I'm allowed to say to describe how good this is. What BBQ sauce do you use?"

"I make my own," the minister replied. "One of our parishioners is a beekeeper. His honey is amazing. It's the key ingredient in my sauce."

"It's sooo good," Emily told him.

"Thank you," he said, nodding and smiling.

"I told you it was good," Sondra said to Emily.

"You were definitely right. I'm in Heaven," my girlfriend replied.

By the time we finished the food, I was almost too full to work. They offered seconds but there was no way Emily and I would agree to that. As it was, we were likely to be found napping in the shade if we didn't keep moving all afternoon.

We thanked the reverend and his wife again for the food and headed back to wrap up our work so that we could return to the office in time for me to get ready for my evening "session".

"I think I had a food orgasm," Emily snickered as we worked.

"The rolls were amazing, the ribs were heavenly, and that slaw was creamy, sweet, and tangy all at the same time," I replied.

"Yeah," she agreed. "I don't usually like that shit. I only took a bite to be nice - but it was so good, I ate it all."

"I noticed," I told her, snickering.

"We're both gonna be fat if they keep this up - and the diner will probably go out of business without us being there."

I thought about that comment for a while as we worked. Our usual waitress was missing our tips. We'd probably need to play a little catch-up when we returned. We were definitely saving money on lunches while we worked here - and - no offense to the guy at the diner - but Mrs. Anderson (and her husband) were in a completely different league from short-order cooks.

We finished up for the day and hauled our tools back to the truck. Mrs. Anderson gave us a wave as we pulled out of the drive. I had warned her that we were taking off early. She wasn't worried. She knew we were ahead of schedule anyway.

When we got to the office, Maggie told us to shower. Meanwhile, she ran to pick up Emily's mom. Once my little Tinkerbell and I were cleaned and dried, she handed me the vinyl underwear. As I put it on, she fitted a studded collar around my throat.

"What's that for?" I asked.

"Maggie said we should dress a little like punk rockers - all metal, leather, and shit," she said, winking.

My new underwear were getting smaller as I kissed her lips and then leaned down to suckle her tiny nipple.

"Stop," she growled.

"I should have fingered you in the shower," I told her.

"No. I want to go off like a fucking 4

th

of July rocket when you shove that monster into me when we get home."

I latched onto the other nipple and she shoved me away.

"Get dressed, jackass," she growled.

I didn't have much that qualified as "punk" or "goth" so I just put on whatever Emily gave me. When we saw Maggie and Lena come in the front door on the security monitor, we headed to the conference room.

I sat in a chair. Maggie pulled me between her knees and laid an assortment of face-paints and make-up on the conference table. The two of them were dressed like biker bitches. I still much preferred Elena's riding outfit - but they both looked hot. I told them so.

"They still use the same design?" Lena asked.

Maggie handed her phone to my mother-in-law and said, "It's mostly the same. Hold this. I texted Sheila and she sent me a picture."

Emily claimed the phone from her mom and told her to help Maggie. I sat as motionless as possible as my two MILF lovers made me look like the members of The Screaming Sheilas.

"He got the underwear on?" Maggie asked my fiancé as she worked.

"Yup," Emily said, her voice thick with lust.

"Horny much?" her mother taunted her.

"He's been teasing me all day. He offered to finger me in the shower but I told him I'm sucking him clean when we get home and then he's fucking a load into my cunt. I'm already about to pop. I'll go off like a volcano when he rams it in."

"Alright, alright," her mother said. "Knock that off. Now you're making me horny."

Lena swatted her daughter's hand as she reached towards her gap. Emily giggled and switched directions to pinch a nipple. Her mother growled at her and shoved her fingers away.

"Are we going to get to watch this little performance?" Lena asked.

"That's what I had planned," Maggie told her. "I don't think Sheila's girls will even notice us once Sam starts his little routine."

"Little?" Lena snickered.

"Hush," Maggie ordered, finishing up my make-up.

We climbed into Maggie's car and she drove us to the civic center. We were really early but the parking lot was already starting to fill up.

"Shit!" I said, when I saw the line at the door.

"Follow me," Maggie told us.

We went left - instead of towards the entrance. She walked up to a door and knocked. A burly security guard opened up. Maggie showed something to him and we were allowed to enter. He kind of looked at my face-paint but didn't say anything. We followed Maggie inside.

An oval ring that I had never seen before was laid out in the middle of the massive floor. The track was raised above the spectators - who would be sitting in metal folding chairs. There was a railing around the track - and the whole surface was slightly beveled towards the center - but - if people were going to be skating on the thing - there wasn't going to be much to keep them contained. Based on what Maggie and Lena had told us so far, that seemed to be part of the point.

Around the wooden, elliptical track was a thin perimeter of mats - maybe a half-dozen feet wide. I stepped on the padded surface with my toe.

"This is supposed to keep them from getting hurt?" I asked.

Maggie said, "It's a rough sport."

"No shit," I replied.

"You're not supposed to get ejected from the rink," Lena laughed.

"So," I asked, "it doesn't happen much?"

Maggie laughed and said, "Oh - no - it happens all of the time."

Emily and I just shook our heads. Maggie pointed to chairs in the front row. We were sitting about midway along the longer side of the oval. We were going to be smack-dab in the middle of the action.

Spectators were beginning to filter into the arena. I kept looking around the place. It was so different from any other event that I'd been here for. Even stuff like WWE was subdued compared to how "industrial" everything felt.

A squad of skaters came rolling in from the back and climbed into the ring. They skated around - doing warm-ups or something. When they saw my make-up, a couple of them flipped me off. One or two others stuck their tongue out. One grabbed her crotch and a breast and thrusted her groin at me.

I was scared and turned on at the same time. A couple of them looked a little rough but one was a hottie. Honestly, my cock was already stiff. Emily giggled and reached between my legs to check on my "status". She giggled louder.

"How's our boy?" her mom asked, seeing where her daughter's hand was.

"Perky," she replied, laughing.

"I'm a little perky myself," my mother-in-law shot back.

I looked over at her and she gave me a wink.

"This is torture," I growled.

"Poor, Augie," Maggie sighed - reminding us that I was supposed to be using my "stage name".

The first squad disappeared after making a few circuits. It was interesting, watching them work on their footwork and teamwork. I had purposefully NOT watched any videos. Emily had watched a couple and said it looked violent.

The next squad came out and I got more vulgar gestures and other responses. One of them blew me a kiss and then swatted her ass.

"Cumming yet?" Emily snickered.

I closed my eyes and swallowed the lump in my throat as my three lovers cackled at my discomfort.

Four or five other squads came out to do laps before the Screaming Sheila's arrived. When the squad that we'd come to see saw me, four of the five blew me kisses. One of them yanked her top up and flashed her tits at me. They were between a B and a C-cup - with silver bars piercing the nipples. They were so firm that my mouth watered. I wanted to wrap my lips around the nipple and my tongue around the bar.

"That's Sheila," Maggie whispered.

I think I moaned. The girls giggled and laughed.

As Sheila's squad practiced their maneuvers, my eyes roved over their bodies - from their hair to their asses to their long legs. I wanted those legs wrapped around me - feet in the air - skates still on their feet - wheels still spinning - as I fucked my cock into their tight pussies. I was sure half of them had pierced clits or labia. I was panting with lust. I needed to cum so badly! My balls were full and aching. My dick was so hard that it hurt.

"You think we should suck him off?" Lena asked. "The poor boy's delirious."

"I'll warn Sheila that they're probably getting a facial right off the starting line," Maggie snickered.

When the Screaming Sheilas finished their practice laps, they climbed out of the ring in front of us.

"On your feet, Augie," Maggie told me.

The girls stood with me as the skaters came to say 'hello'.

"Is this the dessert you promised us?" Sheila asked.

Maggie nodded and said, "This is Augie."

"Hi, Augie," the girls chorused.

I moaned.

"He okay?" Sheila asked, snickering.

"He's ready to pop," Maggie warned her. "You girls should expect a geyser of jizz to start things off. He'll stay hard. You can get your dessert after that. He's dressed to give you a little dance but you've got him a little fired up."

Sheila's hand found my swollen penis. I groaned in agony as she took my measurements with her nimble fingers.

"Mother of God! Now that's a fucking cock!" the woman exclaimed.

The other squad members leaned forward to get a closer look. Their appreciative moans and words only made it harder for me to keep from cumming in my pants.

"Careful, Sheila," Maggie warned. "I'm telling you, he's about to lose his shit."

She let go of my cock and I shuddered. She snickered and leaned in to give me a quick peck on the lips. The rest of the girls followed suit.