Educating Sarah 2

Educating Sarah - part one of a series

Mom and dad teach their horny, teenage daughter the ways of love

Author's note: all characters in this story are at least 18 years or older

Linda Harris couldn't get enough of her husband's cock. Even after some twenty years of marriage, which produced their daughter, Sarah, not to mention both of them having an unusually busy work schedule, they always found time to make the bedsprings squeak enough to register on the Richter scale.

"G-god...fuck...nggg..." Linda, naked underneath Michael's lean, solid body, gripped his waist as he pounded away yet again between her thighs. Sarah hadn't returned home from school yet, so they didn't bother to keep quiet. Not that they tried much in recent days.

"I didn't raise my daughter to be a prude, or ignorant," she would say to Michael as they both caught their breath, basking in the languid afterglow of love. "If she hears us fucking, so be it."

Michael toyed with one of his wife's supple breasts, nuzzling her nipple. "I have a strong feeling she's up to speed on the mechanics of sex." He reached up to brush a strand of dark brown hair from her face, gazing into her hazel eyes. "And what's wrong with her knowing how much we're in love?" Linda touched his cheek, smiling.

"Well, I did have that talk with her." She sighed as Michael took the nipple into his mouth. He loved to suck and play with her tits, and she loved the attention. Michael moaned, nodding, his mouth full.

They heard a door slam in the distance and footsteps on the kitchen tiles. Sarah was home. Both disengaged, slipping on blue, matching bathrobes, straightening the bed somewhat. Michael disappeared into the bathroom while his wife remained, sitting on the edge of the bed, robe open, her bare feet caressed by the thick, shag carpet. Linda didn't bother to conceal her nudity. Theirs was a permissive household and she and Sarah had seen each other naked almost every day, so why bother? A young woman appeared at the bedroom door.

"Hello, honey!" Linda's face brightened, her arms reaching out.

"Hi, Mom."

Although Sarah was about to graduate from high school, legally an adult by now, she wasn't so grown up that she wouldn't give her mother a big hug when returning home, or whenever the occasion seemed right. As they held each other for a few moments, bodies pressing together, Linda couldn't help but marvel at how the young woman had grown in the past year.

My only child. So beautiful, and now such a big girl.

Sarah had just turned eighteen but was a late bloomer. Only recently had she sprouted up at least six inches in height, and her body had a slim, lithe quality, like someone younger. Her blond hair was cut short in a pageboy style, her legs long and breasts small.

"How was your day, love?" Linda sighed as she nuzzled the crook of Sarah's neck, savoring the scent of sun-kissed skin. The young woman released her mother, reluctantly taking a step back.

"Counting them until I'm free." Sarah couldn't wait to graduate from high school. She had already been accepted to the local community college for the fall semester and looked forward to a lazy summer until then. For a lingering moment, she eyed her mother, naked beneath her robe, then let loose with a wry smile. "How was

your

day?"

Linda knew she looked like she'd been through the wringer. Her hair was a mess and she reeked of sex and sweat, but what the fuck. Sarah was an adult, as hard as it was for her mother to accept. She knew about the birds and the bees.

"A day off with your father is like money from home."

Sarah slid up on the bed, next to her mother. "New job's tough, huh?"

"And how." Linda put an arm around Sarah's waist, pulling the young woman against her. The motion caused the robe to fall back, exposing even more of her plush body, which didn't go unnoticed. "Sometimes it's like fighting to stay above water."

Sarah rested her head on her mother's shoulder. "But it should get easier, huh? Once you get used to it?"

"Goddamn, I hope so." She didn't feel the need to sugar-coat the situation. Sarah needed to know what it took to get ahead, to be successful.

"Did you have to take this job, Mom?" The young woman looked her mother in the eye. "Is it really necessary?" Linda smiled.

My dear girl. Another sign of becoming an adult. She's worried about me working too hard.

"Sarah, I just want you...well, all of us...to have the best life we can have." She kissed her daughter on the cheek, but the expression on Sarah's face showed that she wasn't convinced.

"And it takes money? That's going to solve all of our problems?"

The robe slipped open a bit more and Sarah eyed one of her mother's thick, erect nipples. Linda took a deep breath. She didn't have an answer.

"Please don't make yourself crazy, Mom." Sarah leaned over, her face coming to rest between the tops of her mother's breasts, nuzzling damp skin. She inhaled the sweet, slightly acrid odor of sweat trapped between and under Linda's mounds. "I worry about Dad, too."

Linda rubbed her nose against Sarah's ear, savoring the pressure against her body. It reminded her of the past, of the days when she would nurse her infant daughter. She wished it could go on forever.

"Why do you two have to work so much? You know I can take care of myself. I'm already looking for a job."

Linda could feel Sarah's breath between her breasts as her sensitive nipples rubbed against the rough fabric of the bathrobe. "I understand, honey, but let us do the worrying. You won't do anyone any good by making

your

self crazy."

The next moment, Sarah turned her face up to gaze serenely at her mother. Without thinking, Linda kissed her daughter on the mouth, a brief peck, then another, one that lingered. She closed her eyes, momentarily lost in the moist softness of the young woman's lips. Kissing, like copious hugs, wasn't unusual in their relationship. It felt so natural, so logical. Sarah never resisted.

After what seemed like an eternity, Linda pulled back, their lips smacking as they parted.

"I didn't know you felt like this, about me working," she whispered to her daughter with less than an inch separating their noses. "Give me some time and we'll see how it progresses, okay?"

Sarah nodded. "Okay, Mom. But you know I'll live in a shack, just as long as we can be together and happy."

This time, Linda nodded. She wanted another kiss, but suddenly felt her husband's cum starting to leak out. She put her knees together.

"Bathroom," was all she said with an anxious voice, brow furrowed as she rolled a giggling Sarah to the side. Bathrobe dropped to the floor as she scurried, naked, to the bathroom.

The moment her ass hit the wooden toilet seat, she let out a noisy spray of urine, sighing with relief. As open as she and Michael tried to be around their daughter, having a glop of semen oozing out of her vagina in front of Sarah would be a bit much.

I can't quite say, "Sorry, your father's cum is spilling out of me. I can only retain so much after multiple fuckings!"

The corners of her mouth curled up as Linda inspected the pale blue ceramic tiles on the wall opposite her. She thought about how nice it was to cuddle with Sarah, to feel her breath on her skin, and to share a few loving kisses. She wiped herself, washing her hands before returning, naked, to the bedroom. Her daughter had already retreated to her room to knock out some homework.

Linda fished some garments from her dresser drawer, slipping on a pair of old-fashioned, white panties and a snug, cotton tee shirt. She paused for a minute to inspect her reflection in the mirror.

Tits sagging a bit, but still somewhat firm for their size. Nipples erect, which is almost constant after nursing as long as I could, and decades of attention from Michael. My tummy is relatively flat, but childbirth gave me a slight paunch that will never go away, no matter how many sit-ups I do. Still, not bad for an old broad of thirty-eight.

She poked her head into Sarah's bedroom.

"Hungry?"

The young woman nodded.

"Okay, anything in particular?"

Sarah shook her head. "No, Mom. And you know I can feed myself, right?

Mother snorted, looking at her daughter askance. "I know, I know, but your father can't."

As Linda busied herself in the kitchen, metal, and glass clanking against the yellow, Formica countertop, Michael came up behind her, clad only in his tighty whities. With his lips brushing back and forth across her neck and ear, he inhaled, then whispered.

"God, I love the smell of sex coming from your body."

Her husband's sexy voice and touch made Linda shiver, nipples stiffening, every hair on her body standing on end as he squeezed her waist. "Uh-huh," she said, voice breathy, eyes closing as she leaned back against his bare chest. Michael's right hand slipped under her tee shirt, rubbing her tummy in a slow, circular motion.

"You..." She couldn't complete her sentence, gasping as Michael's hand slipped down the front of her panties. He massaged her pubic mound, luxuriating in her dark, soft, springy bush before two fingers dipped into her wet pussy.

"Ahhh-h-h-h-h," she exhaled as he pressed against her sensitive clit before going deeper. Two strong fingers started curling repeatedly behind her little nub, massaging the sweet spot behind it.

"Did I give you enough cum, my love?" His other hand slipped under her tee shirt to massage a breast. Linda could feel his renewed erection pressing against the small of her back.

Jesus, I hope Sarah's still doing her homework. Otherwise, she's going to get quite a show!

"F-fuck, no, lover," she managed to stutter. "You know I never get enough."

"Even after twenty years?" His breath caressed Linda's sensitive skin, just like Sarah's did only fifteen minutes prior. "Twenty years of straight-on, deep, liquid, sweaty, gooey

fucking

?" He accentuated the "F" so it made her jump slightly.

Surrendering, Linda gripped the edge of the kitchen counter as her husband massaged her pussy, his other hand tugging at her nipple.

"Oh, god...goddamn!" She felt Michael's healthy erection rubbing against her more urgently, again ready to fuck. "Where's Sarah?"

"In her bedroom, I think." Michael didn't miss a beat as he pinned her against the counter. His hand started slapping wetly against her pussy. Linda quelled a whimper.

Goddamn, he's still horny! Michael's a fucking Superman sometimes, even when he's exhausted from work, but he usually saves this for when Sarah's not at home.

"Jesus, what if she sees us?" she whispered, to no response. Through the building sensations in her body, she envisioned their daughter catching them in the act. That thought was pushed aside by a quickly-approaching orgasm.

After years of lovemaking, Michael knew intimately his wife's sounds and body language.

"That's it, my love." His voice was like warm honey. "Come for me one more time."

Linda nodded, her eyes closed, lips apart as accelerating slapping noises filled the kitchen. She wanted to bend over the counter and let Michael pound another one out, whether or not Sarah walked in on them.

Oh, fuck, what if she's watching?

That's when it hit.

"Ahhhhgggg..." Linda tried to come as quietly as possible, but to her, it sounded like ragged screams of passion. Her hands squeezed the edge of the counter so firmly that it creaked with her shuddering body.

"Yes, my love...yesss..." He held her tight as she bucked and writhed against his firm grip. "Come...come hard for me. God, I love it so much...can't get enough of your sweet, wet pussy."

"Nnnnggg...ahhhhh..." Linda made a sound like air escaping from a tire, unable to form coherent words, sexual tension escaping as she rode down the backside of her intense climax.

In time, Linda nodded, and Michael's fingers slipped out of her body. She turned to watch him lick them clean, unable to take her eyes from his mouth as he savored the heady taste of her sex. The next moment, she thought she saw movement in the living room.

Shit, could it be?

She rested her head on Michael's chest, eyes still searching.

No. I'm just paranoid. But not enough to keep from...

She dropped to her knees and, exposing her husband's aching erection, took it in her mouth.

If Sarah sees this, I don't know what I'll say, but my man needs relief.

"Goddamn, honey," Michael growled, somewhat surprised. He also glanced over his shoulder to see if they were alone. "Ahhh..."

She wasted no time in taking his eight noble inches down her throat, like she had done thousands of times over the years, one hand gripping his buttock as the other squeezed the base of his cock as she returned the favor. It was Michael's turn to grip the counter as he looked down into his wife's loving eyes, her mouth full. Slurping noises filled the air as he winced with pleasure.

"Goddamn...fuck, honey...hungry bitch," his jawline flexed as his teeth clenched. Linda merely groaned.

Of course, it didn't take long for his body to go taut, cum erupting from his cock, right down Linda's throat. She, in turn, kept him in her mouth, repeatedly drawing up the length of his slippery, twitching shaft, until the spasms subsided, swallowing, savoring the taste.

Now maybe we can get through dinner without raping each other.

Michael shook his head, spent and satisfied for the moment, as Linda tucked his limp cock back into its pouch. The elastic band on his underwear snapped tight as his wife rose to kiss him. Their mouths lingered, tongues intertwining, as he tasted his cum. Linda moaned as their bodies pressed together.

Icing on the cake.

Suddenly, Michael pulled away, slapping Linda's ass with a loud

smack

.

"Now get to work with those pots and pans, woman!" He commanded.

"Asshole!" Linda pretended to slap his face, but it was a love tap. They both laughed as she scurried away, looking over her shoulder at her lifemate, fulfilled.

"What's going on in here?" A voice called from the other side of the kitchen. It was Sarah's. Michael, with his still-damp member swelling inside his underwear, creating an unmistakable outline, merely smirked at his daughter, giving her a kiss on the mouth and a pat on the butt as he exited.

"Oh, nothing." Linda tried not to look guilty, but it was impossible. She still tasted Michael's salty, alkaline semen in her mouth, and hoped her copious wetness wasn't making a visible spot on the front of her panties.

Maybe I should put that robe back on.

"Okayyy..." The young woman slipped onto a barstool, eyeing her with a mixture of suspicion and amusement. Linda felt the need to speak as if it would divert Sarah away from the obvious.

"Are you done with your homework, young lady?" Mother asked as her husband returned. He had put on his robe and handed the other to Linda. Immediately, she slipped it on.

Thank god.

"Uh, no." Sarah eyed her parents. "I just heard some noise and came to see what was up."

Michael didn't help. He was again behind Linda, massaging her shoulders. He left his robe open and his erection had returned, flustering her even more.

My face must be beet red.

"Cooking...that's what's up." Linda was getting angry at herself for being turned on yet again.

God help me. Why is it I need to fuck so bad, even with my daughter only a few feet away, interrogating me?

"Hit those books and get it done, sweetheart." Michael chimed in, much to his wife's relief. "Then we can be together."

"Sure, whatever." Sarah's feet hit the floor and she trotted off.

"I'll call you when dinner's ready," Linda called after her daughter, who didn't respond. She shook her head as she unwrapped a package of chicken breasts.

A grown-up one minute, a bratty teenager the next.

Saturday was thankfully a day off for all. Late spring meant school would be soon over and Sarah had all summer to regroup and plan for the fall semester at community college. It also meant the days were getting warmer, and longer, with sunshine and clear skies. This day was no exception.

Linda and Michael had installed an impressive, amoeba-shaped heated swimming pool in their backyard several years ago. Michael especially liked using it as he swam almost every day that wasn't freezing. Linda, in contrast, contented herself with lounging near the pool with a mixed drink, watching her husband do his laps, or watching their daughter, who loved the diving board.

The years had been kind to Linda, not only because she minded her weight, managing to do light exercise most days, but a lot of it came down to genetics. The complex DNA mix passed down from her ancestors produced a pretty, full-bodied woman of moderate height, with dark brown hair, full hips, and ample breasts. Her face was not delicate, with a prominent nose and full lips, but she possessed a certain

je ne sais quoi

that made most men look twice.

Still, the only reason she dared to wear a modest, one-piece bathing suit outdoors was that Michael had installed a high, wooden privacy fence to surround the backyard. Parading naked, or near-naked, around the house was fine, but she wasn't an exhibitionist beyond the confines of her own domicile.

As she did most days when weather permitted, she threw a big, thick beach towel over one of the reclining lawn chairs, then proceeded to slowly and thoroughly rub oil all over herself. Michael or Sarah would help with her hard-to-reach areas, then she kicked back with her drink, soaking up the sun, and watching the world go by. Usually, she would bring along her radio, tuned to the local classical music station.

"Why don't you ever come in with us, Mom?" Sarah's head poked just above the waterline as she bobbed up and down, her toes just touching the bottom. A Mozart string quartet intermingled with the sound of splashing water as Linda took a sip of her cherry daiquiri.

"No, honey, I'm fine watching you two go at it."

"Ah, that's bogus! What's the purpose of having a swimming pool if you don't use it?" Sarah splashed water on Linda, making her jump, spilling part of her drink.

"Hey, you little turd!" Linda protested as Sarah swam to the far side of the pool, giggling.

Michael had worked hard on keeping himself fit, and it showed. While he was by no means an Adonis, his figure was lean and firm, with just a tiny bit of paunch, which he couldn't stop pinching while furrowing his brow.

"If you can pinch more than an inch" was a saying at the time, and he tended to obsess over it. In his line of work, appearances meant a lot, but it was mostly for the benefit of his wife.

Sarah's slim, lithe figure, blond hair, and pale skin were a surprise, considering her parents' heritages. Michael was by no means an albino, with dark hair and piercing eyes. Early on, the joke about a Swede in the woodpile was brought up often, but Michael knew she was his.

"Amazing how physical traits skip a few generations, then pop up out of nowhere." Michael had traced his lineage, in part, to somewhere in Scandinavia, but he could find nothing more specific. The other half of the family was pure Mediterranean.

Climbing out of the pool, dripping with water, Sarah resembled a Nordic water sprite. Michael appreciated the two-piece bikini she wore that day.

"See something you like?" Linda teased.

Michael had joined his wife after a swim. After rubbing oil on her back, he reclined with a beer, watching their daughter splash about in the pool. Sarah's attire was decidedly skimpy. On a more well-endowed person, the bikini would have been too daring, but the young woman's figure offered nothing to challenge the wisps of thin fabric. She wore it well.