Like Father Like Son 15

Renee tried to turn over but it was impossible. Sandwiched as she was between two hard male bodies. Both of whom were now snoring. Loudly. She shook her head and laughed. How the fuck had she gotten herself into this one? Not only had last night been her first male-female-male ménage a trois but for goodness sake...with her lover and his son. What was she thinking?

It had all began as a joke really. Ever since her own daughter came of age, she had been listening to lovers fantasize about that most taboo of pairings a threesome with a mother and her daughter. So when Stan her latest lover started to harp on the same fantasy that was guaranteed to turn her off, she had had enough.

She knew that he had a son that was away at university. He complained often enough about the kid calling home for money. So this time instead of bearing months and months of the foolishness before exploding and telling him where he could shove it, she figured that a bit of turn about was fair play. The next time when he started in on the fantasy about her and her look-a-like daughter, she smiled sweetly and pouted, "What about a threesome with your son instead?"

She had honestly thought he would be so disgusted by the idea that he would either break up with her, she would miss the fairly decent sex but no big loss, or he would did as she hoped and shut the fuck up about her little girl as she would always be to her. As a mother, another that even smacked of incest, always made her skin crawl. She simply could not get her head around how something that was a betrayal of some ancient and primal trust could be sexy to anyone. It had been the end of several of her relationships.

So she had been shocked as shit when Stan actually chuckled and threw down the gauntlet. "You think you could handle two of us?" Instead of turning the man's stomach or forcing him to shut up about her own child, he had switched his fantasy. Suddenly instead of listening to stories of him fucking her adult daughter while she watched, it was him and his son spit firing her between them.

Most shocking of all...she had not been turned off. She had actually found the fantasy hot. Logically, she knew that all the same taboos that prevented her from getting into any fantasy that involved her child applied equally here. Except this was not her child. It was not she who would be betraying that bond of trust. What's more as sexist as it sounded, there was simply something different about the male father-son bond than the mother-child one.

So as sick as she told herself it was, she could not help but get a little bit wetter when he started in on the fantasy as he fucked her doggy style. When he had found her staring at a photograph of him and his son taken on the beach somewhere, it suddenly as if by magic got relocated from the hallway to his bedside table...the table that she faced while he fucked her from behind...doggy style. And told her in no uncertain terms of all the naughty things they would do to her.

But until last night she had thought it was just a kinky, dirty, taboo fantasy. She had never for a single minute thought that he would actually do it. They would do it. She had been surprised to discover that his son was even home from college. In all the months that they had been fucking around, she had never met the kid. On the rare weekends that he did come home, Stan had told her not to bother, they would see one another next weekend. So when she walked in to them laughing and drinking beer on the couch, she had practically swallowed her tongue.

Then he had introduced her to his son. The young man's eyes had run up and down her body until she shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. But she had sighed with relief when he excused himself, saying he was going out with some friends. The door had no sooner closed than Stan was on her. He used his dominance to force admissions from her. How wet had she gotten when she saw his son? Was he everything she had imagined? Then he had fucked her right there on the couch where his son had been seating...all the while whispering the naughtiest of things into her ear. Still she had thought that would be it. More friendly teasing as she fell asleep in his arms after sex.

She had awakened though to hands on her tits and between her legs. She had moaned, wondering if her lover had snuck a Viagra...twice in one night. She opened her legs and felt fingers thrust deep inside of her. She had exploded into another powerful orgasm despite the dozens that Stan had given her earlier.

"Damn, Dad, you're right. This bitch is one hot little cunt," came the voice from between her legs.

Her eyes flew open then. It was hard to see with only the light from the street lamps drifting in through the curtains. It took her a long moment for her eyes to adjust. What she saw frightened, disgusted and excited her. Stan was behind her. His hard cock pressed to her ass. Both his meaty hands were squeezing her tits and pinching her hard nipples. Kneeling between her open thighs was his son. His fingers buried to the hilt inside her spasming cunt. He just smiled at her.

She started to shake her head, fight to get out of Stan's strong arms. "Where you going, baby? You know this is what you want. What has been getting you hotter than a firecracker for months. If just the idea of me and Junior giving it to you good can get you off so hard, imagine what we can actually do to you."

And do they had. All the dirty things that Stan had whispered in her ear...double penetration, spit fired, even him sitting back and masturbating while his son fucked her. They had done it all...and more. Until she thought that she had come so hard she had fainted. She must have...because she had absolutely no idea how she ended up in his bed, sandwiched between father and son.

She wanted to cry in shame at what she had done. How she had been used. All the dirty things that they said and did. But most of all, how she responded to them. How hard she had come. How much she had come. What was wrong with her? She was disgusting. How could a mother do this? She felt the tears begin to trickle down her cheek. She tried to get up. To sneak away.

Then she felt the tender kiss on her shoulder. "Good morning, lover," he whispered. She looked around to the smile on Stan's face. "That was a hell of a night, sweetheart."

Then she felt the soft kiss to the side of her neck as the hard cocks on both sides of her began the gentle game of tug of war that set her off so easily. "Beat we can make it a better morning, pops," growled the voice at her pulse.

Her breath caught in her throat as hands, tongues and cocks began their gentle and not-so-gentle torment. What was a girl to do after all? Stuck in a father-son sandwich...