Mother in the Middle

Becca rose before dawn and showered, leaving Paul and Michael sleeping serenely. She threw on a filmy nightgown, not bothering with panties. They'd probably have her naked ten minutes after they woke up. Fucking their mother was such a turn-on that neither of them had stayed soft for long during the night. She'd slept in snatches between long bouts of their fondling and kissing her all over until she'd begged for them to use her pussy again. They'd done so enthusiastically and in turns.

For all that she'd fought against temptation, in the end she'd utterly surrendered to her long-suppressed carnal urges. She was as wet and wanting as her sons were hard and demanding--every single time. But when her excitement passed, her heart was still bound by chains of denial and guilt. Actions had consequences.

She went downstairs to make coffee.

What could she do? In the harsh light of dawn, the future was too scary to contemplate. There was no question that her sons were bent on dominating her. Paul had as much as said that they planned to break and share her as their living sex doll. So far, they were succeeding all too well. They knew how to push her buttons, beginning with the pink one between her legs.

Only if you let them.

Her consent mattered, even if it

was

consent given in the throes of sexual madness. Her willing embrace of son-fucking was a large part of the fantasy the boys were living out. As long as she kept that in mind, she had some shred of control.

It was time to turn the tables.

There was an antique rolltop desk in the corner of the front room, next to a set of rough-hewn shelves holding a few tattered paperbacks, photo albums, and an ancient Silvertone stereo set. She found the tape cassette in one of the desk's cubbies where she'd left it over twenty years ago. The memo field of the yellowed adhesive label was blank, but she knew every song on it by heart.

Michael lumbered down the stairs while she was down on her hands and knees groping behind the bookshelf for the stereo's power cord. He yawned and scratched at his matted hair. "Whatcha up to?"

"I feel like some music.".

"No way that thing will still work," he said with another yawn. "You want some breakfast?"

Becca plugged the unit in. The dials on the receiver glowed with amber light.

"Oh, ye of little faith. It was a wedding gift to my folks from Mom's parents. She was sentimental enough to keep getting it repaired." Becca loaded the tape into its slot and pressed Search twice. The intro base notes of "Fire" rumbled from the one working speaker.

"Loose wire somewhere. Doesn't matter." She sprang to her feet, tripping lightly across the room to Michael. Fresh energy surged through her limbs despite her lack of sleep. She stretched out a hand. "Dance with me."

"Mom?"

"Like we used to. I taught you how, remember?" Becca stood on tiptoes and kissed his chin. "Wasn't it fun?"

"I remember Paul would get embarrassed and go hide," Michael said with a smile. "He was afraid of looking silly."

"Yes, well your brother always took himself a little too seriously." Becca wrinkled her nose. "Don't tell him I said so."

Michael hesitantly took her hand, drawing her close. She led, as she always had, and he took an awkward step backward.

"--I'm driving in my car. I turn on the radio..."

"What is this?"

"Springsteen, you dope." She ran her hands down his bare back, cupping his ass through his shorts. He inhaled with a start.

"I know that. Where'd you get it?" His eyes lit with amusement. "Mixtape from some old boyfriend?"

"--I'm pullin' you close, You just say No..."

"Something like that." Becca ground her pelvis against his. He was half-hard already. Damned if these two weren't the closest thing to perpetual motion she'd ever seen.

"--You say you don't like it, But girl I know you're a liar..."

"Chris gave it to me."

"Uncle Chris?"

"Uh-huh." She spun away and back into her son's arms, kissing him playfully. "Surprised?"

"--Cause when we kiss, Ohhhh, fire..."

"Why would I be--" Michael froze in mid-step. "Hold on, what are you saying?"

"We were together. The first time was right here in this cottage. A week before he left for boot camp. Upstairs in the same bed where you had me last night."

"The

first

time?"

Becca nodded. "We fucked whenever we could. The last time was when he was on a two-week leave from his unit."

"Fuck. I mean...was he your first?"

"Yeah. I'd always wanted him. I adored Chris and fantasized about him all the time. One afternoon when Mom and Dad were out sailing with Lindsey's folks, I came on to him hard. Strutting around here in my undies and tee shirt and nothing else. I was eighteen and thought I could do whatever I wanted."

Stunned though he was, Michael's cock throbbed bigger and stiffer against her tummy as she told her story. She'd hoped for exactly this reaction when deciding to drop her bombshell. At the same time, she hated herself for what she was doing. This was a conversation she'd never intended to have, and yet here she was using her deepest secret as a sexual lure for her son.

She'd use whatever she could, to drive a wedge between the brothers. To make Michael her ally.

"Chris knew a lot more than I did," Becca continued, slipping her fingers into her son's fly. "We spent the entire day in bed. We did everything, I took him in every one of my holes." Grasping Michael's cock like a handle, she maneuvered him across the floor into the wall. She sank to her knees and dragged his shorts to his ankles.

"Stop..."

"Don't what?" she asked innocently. "Stop playing with your dick? It's awfully stiff. You must like me doing it. You usually do. When it's your idea. Or Paul's."

"But--"

"Or do you mean for me to stop talking? Because there's lots more to tell."

Becca rose and grabbed Michael's shoulders to hoist herself up, trying to straddle him standing. He was so much taller than her that she wasn't sure that what she had in mind would work. She nearly fell backward, but he put his hands protectively around her waist, lifting her easily until her toes were off the floor. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and pressed her big soft tits against his chest, lifting her right leg as high as she could and crossing it behind his back. She wriggled into position with her cunt entrance just above his cock.

"You and Paul are so young, after all. You think you invented something, with this evil little scheme to fuck your mother? Baby, I've been fucking family since before you were born." She relaxed her arms and began easing herself downward.

"You remind me so much of him," she whispered.

"Uncle Chris?"

"Your

father.

My brother."

Mashing her lips to his, she drilled her tongue into his mouth to stifle his outcry. She lowered her full weight onto him, sliding her snug, wet fuck-slit down onto his bulging cock.

Michael flailed in surprise for several seconds before he started rocking his hips under hers. His cock jerked and pulsated so wildly inside her clinging walls that she was afraid he'd cum immediately. Instead, he braced himself against the wall, bent his knees, and gripped her firm ass cheeks in his broad, strong hands. She swung her left leg up and locked her ankles around his back, hoping to relieve some of the strain on him.

"Don't worry, I got you, don't worry," Michael repeated through gritted teeth while bouncing on the balls of his feet to fuck her hot cunt with short thrusts. Becca gasped as he impaled her on as much of his huge, rock-hard cock as he could manage in this position. His sheer physical strength took her breath away.

"I love it!" she babbled. "I opened my legs for my brother and now I'm fucking our son! Don't you love it, honey, fucking Mommy now that you know what a dreadful, incestuous whore I've always been?" She rocked and humped and squeezed her pussy muscles around his pounding prick, working to drive him insane with desire. She wanted to demonstrate how wanton she truly was--to convince him how much wilder their fucking would be if he turned to her side. She was the mother, after all. He was her son and should obey her, rather than the other way around.

"You are a fantastic whore, Mom," he agreed. "And I'm one lucky incestuous bastard!"

"You're my special stud, Darling. Mine, you hear? You said you wanted to take care of me, you remember? Awwwh!" Her gasps and cries grew louder as Michael's hammering cock swept her toward orgasm Her pussy convulsed around his cock and she shrieked, heedless of waking Paul.

"That's it, here it comes!" he bellowed. "I'm gonna blow in your cunt, Mom!"

"Yeah, cum for Mommy!" She strained to lift her ass as high as she could for one last long plunge down his shaft. As she descended, he bucked up to meet her and erupted, pumping his warm load into her depths. She flexed her cunt around his swelling cock, milking him dry as they came together.

Becca climbed off of Michael and slouched against him, snuggling into his side. Now that the delicious madness had passed, for the time being, he looked sad.

"What?"

"It's a lot to process. He fell silent for a while, then said, "You've felt guilty about fucking Uncle Chris--uh--Dad - all these years, haven't you?"

"How could I help it? I felt responsible for Chris going away. For what happened to him. Like it was all a punishment for what we did."

"That's nonsense, Mom. You said he enlisted before you two got together. He made a choice to step up and do something he believed was important. He wasn't running away from you."

"Oh, what's logic got to do with feelings, anyway?" Becca kissed her son like a lover. "Feelings like ours. Be mine forever, Michael."

"Jeez, what a racket down here!" Paul bounded downstairs naked, smiling, and already sporting a hard-on. "Let 'er go, Mike. I want my turn up that hot slot."

"I don't think so,

dear,

" Becca said before Michael could react. "I'm not in the mood just now."

"Well, get in the goddamn mood. You gonna just stand there with Mike's spunk runnin' down your leg and tell me you don't feel like fucking?"

"Exactly that." She snaked an arm around Michael's waist, possessively taking his dripping cock in her hand.

"You better listen to her, punk," he declared.

"Yeah, sure. I'll listen to her moan her head off while I nail her."

"Keep it up, mister. See where that kind of talk gets you." Becca pointed to the couch. "Just go sit down over there."

"Oh, am I in time-out?" Paul blinked incredulously.

"Until you learn to behave."

Paul's defiant glare didn't waver, but he shrugged and did as she ordered. His big, hard cock didn't wilt a fraction of an inch, and she found it impossible to ignore. Resolved as she was to discipline him, a shudder of desire ran through her and she realized that she was far more a captive of her own libido than of anyone else's demands. The yearnings that she'd suppressed for so many years had burst free and were running wild in her.

Seeing her younger son's balls so heavy with his first rich cumload of the day, she weakened. Who was she really punishing, here?

An idea occurred to her.

"Good boy," she cooed. "You just sit there and do as you're told and maybe Mommy will give you something nice."

"Like what?"

She shrugged off her nightie and strutted over to shove her tits in Paul's face. "How would you like to fuck these?"

"Shit, yeah!" he exclaimed. "That is, I mean--Yes, Ma'am!"

Becca knelt before him, the undersides of her soft, round tits resting on his knees. Her large pink nipples were hard. He scooted forward in his seat, taking his cock in hand and rolling the head across the tops of her tits.

"I been looking forward to this. Man, I love these big funbags."

"What a rude word," she chided him, secretly pleased. Paul's crudeness often startled her, but it aroused her as well. Whenever he spoke this way about her body his voice was tinged with an unmistakable note of awe. No other man had ever admired her gifts as unreservedly as her sons did, which to her mind compensated for any lapses in their etiquette.

She slid her slender fingers under her tits and lifted them to his face. "They are rather big, aren't they? Would you like to suck Mommy's nipples some? Get her good and horny before she lets you slide your cock between them?"

Paul bent forward, mouth open and eager to capture a mouthful of warm tit-flesh. Becca leaned away from him.

"Too bad." She raised one nipple to her mouth and flicked her tongue across it, trailing saliva over the stiff nubbin. "I can do it for myself." She pressed her pillowy lips to the puckered areola and inhaled, gradually drawing in as much of the spongy globe as her mouth could hold. She sucked hard for a minute, keeping an eye on his reaction, then released and swapped the tit out for its twin, mouthing and tonguing each until both were so flushed and dark pink that they matched the color of her nipples.

Her cunt-cream flowed freely and she reached between her legs to scoop up a handful, massaging it into the deep valley of her cleavage to lubricate it for Paul. Nudging his knees apart, she shuffled forward to nestle his shaft between her tits. His body heat radiated through her chest as she pushed her tits together to form a snug pocket around his cock.

Paul put his hands on top of hers and started moving his hips, rocking up and down. His prick felt even bigger than usual as it glided between her tits. She bowed her head and opened her mouth so that he could aim his glans right into it whenever his cock poked up from between her big melons. She gave the tip a quick swipe of her tongue every time it appeared.

It didn't take much of this treatment before he started to go off. Jism shot from his cum-slit, hitting her chin and running down her neck. His cock kept thrusting, causing cum to splash over her tits and fill up her cleavage as his cock-head disappeared into it. Ah, the marvels of youth! A few hours of rest had recharged his cum-tanks such that his mother's chest was soon covered in a pearly sheen of jism.

When Paul was done, Becca took her tits in her hands again and licked them clean of his semen. He slumped back on the cushions with an idiot's grin plastered across his face.

"Now, you promise to be good from now on?" Becca taunted.

"I promise, Mama."

Her eyes sought Michael's, searching for traces of jealousy or disapproval. He'd stood behind the couch watching her performance all this time without making a sound. Seeing that his cock was like steel again, she knew that they were all good--a happy family, at last.

†††

Later that afternoon, Paul and Michael reclined next to each other on the curved rattan bench that surrounded the hot tub on the cottage deck, both sipping beer from cans while Becca took turns riding each of their stiff cocks.

Facing away from Paul, she crouched on the balls of her feet on the vinyl cushion on either side of his hips and took his entire cock into her cunt with every bounce.

"Oh yeah, oh fuck!" she chanted breathlessly as she moved up and down. Her cries filled the salt air loudly enough to drown out the calls of seagulls on the shore. At first, she'd been shy about fucking outdoors. But this stretch of beach was deserted, and the only access from the long coastal road was on the far side of the house. Besides, her sons had her worked up into such a horny frenzy that she'd have been willing to mount them on the fifty-yard line of the Super Bowl stadium during halftime. Despite swearing that they'd never shared a woman before, the guys handled her like a couple of studs experienced at double-dicking. They'd been that way since the first night of her seduction.

Michael relaxed beside the fucking couple, eyes half-closed but taking in the sexy spectacle of his mother gyrating on his brother's prick like a sex-starved nympho--which Becca herself was beginning to believe might be the truth. Who but a cock addict would embrace son-fucking incest so joyously as she had?

She slowed her fucking movements, leaning forward and bracing her hands on Paul's knees while moving her pelvis in small tight circles. She luxuriated in feeling the contours of his cock helmet stirring her sensitive tissues just inside her clinging pussy lips. Dropping down another few inches, she was able to direct that sweet friction right against her G-spot.

It was all about control. Fucking in this position enabled her to indulge herself and enjoy her sons at her own pace, varying the angle and depth of penetration to maximize her pleasure while directing and encouraging their efforts with little snaps of her slick, agile cock-tunnel around their pricks. That turnabout was only fair. Paul and Michael had started out this vacation intending to reduce their mother to a submissive slut. Now, she would make them her trained stallions: broken to the saddle, but not too tame.

Her climax took her without warning, knocking the air from her lungs. She slumped back against Paul's hard chest, recovering her breath in ragged gasps. Head on his shoulder, she put a hand on his cheek and turned his face to hers, rewarding him with a long, deep soul kiss.

"I ain't come yet," Paul croaked. It was both a boast and a plea.

"Just settle down. Haven't you shot your load enough times for one day? Mama wants to keep you good and hard for more fun later." She rose and hopped off his lap, letting his prick slip from her cunt. She ran an index finger along the slippery cleft of his cock-head. "It's your turn to watch for a while."

Michael held out his arms to her. She stepped up onto the cushion and straddled him. Reaching back between her legs for his cock, she traced her delicate fingers over the round fullness of his cum-laden ball sack and then up the silky, hard girth of his prick. Kissing him lightly on the lips, she eased his glans into the wet open mouth of her cunt.

She was ready. She was so ready...nearly an hour, now, of switching between her sons, riding them at her leisure to cum after toe-curling cum, had rendered her fuck-tunnel wet and supple and hungry for as much forbidden, incestuous cock as she could get.

"Give it to me, Sweetie," she murmured, descending onto Michael's cock ever so slowly. She gloried in the magic of being filled with hot, hard male meat. That she was fucking her own flesh and blood made it so much better, as it had when she'd first ravished her brother. Now their son was giving his mother what she'd thought was lost to her forever.

She tweaked and toyed with his nipples, making him groan and buck his hips up off the cushion to drive half his prick into her cunt. She hefted one of her heavy tits in one hand, pressing it to his mouth. "Suck my titty. Don't be gentle, suck hard--Yesss, that's what Mother likes...I'll teach you all the little things that please me. You'll learn, won't you?"

"I will, I promise," Michael mumbled, sucking Becca's tit-flesh deep into his mouth. An electric shiver raced from her tit to her cunt when he nibbled at her erect nipple.

"Of course you will." She tousled his russet hair, so like his father's. "Because you know, when you please Mother, Mother gives you more pussy." She slowly tightened her inner muscles around her son's cock. His eyes rolled back under their lids.

Paul looked on with sullen envy. That suited Becca fine. Maybe it was wrong to play her sons against each other this way, but she told herself it was all for a good cause. They'd allied to have their ways with her. She couldn't permit that. Encouraging a healthy fraternal competition for her favors was in her best interest, and she'd convinced herself that it was in Paul and Michael's as well. Because no matter how confident they might be of their sexual mastery, she had a lifetime of sexual experience to impart to them.