Mother's Helper

This chapter begins about two seconds after Chapter 1 ends, so if you haven't read that part, do so now. Third and (probable) concluding part is underway, likely to be posted by the end of next week (no promise, but will try). Again, votes and comments welcome. Signed comments will be acknowledged. Enjoy. Jb7

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Sally leaned back against Paul's chest, breathing deeply to catch her breath. Paul's arms were around her, holding her tightly, each hand holding a breast. She tilted her head back, offering her lips for a kiss. He accepted the offer, slipping his tongue in to play with hers; his hand went down to begin lightly caressing her super-sensitive bud. She felt him begin to harden in her quim. She broke the kiss with a short laugh. "Hadn't you better save that for your mom. She'll probably be on you before I'm out of the driveway."

"Driveway, hell!" laughed Rita. "More like before you're out of the kitchen."

Sally and Paul laughed as she stood up, releasing Paul's semi-erect rod from its duty as a cum dam. She felt the sticky liquid start to run down her legs. Rita watched it slowly slide down the inside of her friend's thighs.

"Sally, set your ass on the table and lay down. There's no sense letting that sweet cum get away."

Sally looked at the tall brunette and smiled, doing as she was instructed. In seconds, Rita had pushed her legs up and began licking her son's deposit from the buxom blonde's thighs. Her tongue had just reached Sally's juicy quim when she felt Paul push her skirt up over her hips. Without stopping her ministrations to the kitty under her tongue, she asked, "Wha ah oo ooig?"

He didn't need to answer. His rock hard shaft entered his mother's welcoming quim in a single stroke as his hands found another pair of breasts to caress. Rita's mouth closed over Sally's clit as much in surprise as on purpose. The whole taboo nature of the scene being played out around her helped push Sally to another climax, thrusting her hips and quim up into Rita's face. Rita countered by increasing the force and speed she used to tongue the sensitive bud she was trying pull into her mouth.

Already turned on by watching her son and her best friend fuck, and by the illicit nature of her own activity with Sally, Rita quickly followed Sally and had her own orgasm, moaning loudly into Sally, the vibrations tickling Sally's clit, eliciting giggles and squirms from her.

Rita started to stand, only to be told, "Don't move yet," as she felt her son begin to thrust into her more rapidly, with shorter, harder strokes. Within a few seconds, he froze, mid stroke, and she felt the hot liquid splashing on her inside walls.

Her moan of satisfaction was answered by a similar one from Paul, and a laugh from Sally, who added, "Damn, there's nothing like a quickie threesome, is there?"

Her two partners laughed with her. "Wow," said Paul. "This isn't quite the surprise I was thinking about, but..."

"What surprise?" asked his mother.

"He heard us talking about a threesome, and called me out to suggest I stop by Sunday to surprise you."

"What happened?"

"A kiss, and then I got a bone on," confessed Paul. "To be truthful, I've had a hard on for you two since I was twelve; the thought of doing you both together-- hell, I wouldn't have been able to walk all week. This was actually better than my dreams."

Rita reached up to kiss his cheek; Sally repeated the action on the other side. "Do you think you can last 'til Sunday now?" Sally asked.

"You needn't worry about that, Sally," Rita replied, with a sexy smile. "Why don't you come Saturday, and plan on sleeping over?" Sally grinned her acceptance. She looked around for her clothes.

As she was pulling on her slacks, she watched as Rita idly fingered her son as much as the casts would let her. "Goddam, Rita! You almost make me wish I had a son." When she finished fastening and zipping her slacks, she reached for Paul, asking, "May I?" She pulled him down for a kiss, her hand snaking between them to hold and caress his dick. A responding tingle in her quim made her quickly break the connections. "Shit, if I don't get gone, I won't get gone. Saturday, suppertime?"

Rita smiled and nodded.

That night, rather than the fast and furious fucking they had engaged in the previous night, mother and son took the time to, together, explore and discover what Rita enjoyed and responded best to.

After several long deep kisses, Paul moved to nibble his way from her earlobe to her very erect nipples. He teased them with his lips and tongue, bit them lightly with his teeth, he circled them, licked them and sucked on them, pinched, twisted and pulled them until Rita was unable to lie still.

He moved down her torso to her belly, teasing her navel in much the same way--circling it with tiny nibbles and licks, sucking on the perimeter until Rita was afraid he'd leave evidence of his passion.

He followed the thin shadow of a hairline from her navel down to her curly thatch, burying his nose in the shag carpet, using his tongue to gather the strands and twist them into tiny spit curls. When she realized what he was doing, Rita laughed, bouncing his face with her abdomen.

Paul looked up at her, over her belly, through her boobs, and gave her an impish smile as he dragged his tongue down over her slit, pressuring it to open and give him access to her opening. He continued past it, to the bottom of her perineal area. Flattening his tongue against her, he pulled his tongue up over her labia, sliding it across her clitoris.

This was an entirely new sensation for his mother. She was not naive; she knew about oral sex, and had heard how wonderful (and how bad) it could be, but the one day when she and her boyfriend had cut highschool to get tipsy and screw, oral sex was not on the agenda.

That afternoon, she had gone from virgin to expectant mom in one brief five minute fuck session before her boyfriend's mother had almost caught them in the act. It had been just long enough for Tim, the boy, to unload in her.

Now, as Paul's flat tongue made its way up her slit to her clit, she thought she was going to die of pleasure. The rapture of an orgasmic release was more intense, a more powerful jolt of pleasure to be sure, but the feeling from her son's tongue as it caressed her labia and the surrounding areas was like being stroked with silk velvet. And when it crossed over her clit, it was the most delicious, most pleasing sensation, even better than finally getting to that unreachable itch.

She pulled her knees further apart, giving Paul all the room and access he wanted. Her hands were in his hair, holding him to her pussy. Slowly, her hips began to thrust upward into his mouth. Unconsciously, she began to speed up, matching the speed of his tongue against her pleasure bud.

Paul slipped his middle two fingers into her, pressing against her crinkled hole with his thumb. Rita moaned loudly and thrust against his hand, holding herself off the bed, trying to suck him into her quim.

"Oh, yessss! More! In me, now, Paul. I need you in me!"

Paul nodded, his tongue firmly against his mother's labia, increasing her desire. He moved up her body with his mouth planting kisses every two or three inches, nipping at her nipples, then at her lips as his tongue sought entry at the same time his cock pushed into her hungry, waiting pussy.

He slid into her in a single stroke, and immediately started to withdraw, to his mother's objection. Her legs wrapped around him, to hold him in her. He thrust his hips forward, slamming into her pussy, and then back out as far as she let him.

Realizing what he was about, Rita relaxed her legs a little, giving Paul room to fuck. After several thrusts, he stopped and gathered her in his arms. He rolled to his side and then onto his back, still holding her to his chest. He raised and separated his knees, opening her. Bracing his heels on the bed, he began to move into her. The position placed her clit against his shaft for near maximum stimulation.

Rita was able to get her knees on the bed to stabilize herself and return her son's thrusts. She felt his cock begin to enlarge. At the same time, she could feel the increase in her own arousal; her breathing became labored, her thrusting erratic, Paul's breathing became irregular, his thrusts, faster, harder, more chaotic.

Suddenly, he arched up off the bed, suspending Rita on his cock, which was fully imbedded in her. She felt the blasts of semen as they coated the walls which enclosed his babymaker, sparking her own mini-explosion of pleasure.

The identification of babymaker occurred to her seconds later, causing a shiver of panic as she clutched her son and lover to her breasts. Silently, she vowed to call her doctor in the morning, while Paul was at school.

Later in the morning, Thursday, Rita was on the phone to Sally.

"Sally, I need a favor. I have an appointment with Wendy Daniels Tuesday after next for a TL. I can take a cab there, but they insist I have family or friend drive me home."

"Yes, laparoscopically. It can be done in the office, and has the shortest recovery time, as you know."

"No, I haven't discussed it with him, yet. This is my decision, for me. I have my reasons and they don't all concern him.

"Can you bring me home? They will call you as soon as the procedure is done. Thank you. See you Saturday? And Sally, nothing to Paul until after, okay? Thank you."

Paul was in the coffee shop in the Student Union, having a late breakfast while he caught up on some assigned reading. While his TA duties had been reduced because of his mother's accident, he still had to keep up with his graduate class work.

Between taking care of his mom's minimal personal care needs, and the housework (he hadn't realized just how much there was that his mother did for him each day), and trying to keep up with the lust bunny he had unwittingly unleashed, there wasn't a lot of time left. And he had had the balls to invite Sally to join them. And think about including Patti, her older daughter.

"Now, there," he mused, thinking of Patti, "was one sweet piece. Taller than average, she must be at least five-ten, nicely built, not too small up top, but not so big the jerks would hit on her just because of her boobs; trim waist, proportionate hips. Not so heavy he couldn't lift her, and not so skinny he'd wind up bruised after a wild session in the sack. Nice face, one you could stand to look at all day; blue eyes, hair like her mom's, dishwater blonde. Cute crooked nose. Fell off a bike, her mom said. And smart..."

"Hey, Paul. What are you doing here at this time of day? Don't you have a lab to set up?" Speak or think of the devil! He looked up at the person intruding on his reverie.

"Hi, Patti. No, on the lab. Fitz, Dr. Fitzpatrick, gave me the time off until Mom gets her casts off and can handle a five pound weight by herself. So I'm using the time this morning to catch some breakfast and read some pages. You got time to sit? What's up with you?"

Patti set her books on the table and sat down. "What's up with me? That must be a good question; it seems to be on everybody's mind today. Mom sent Di and Dottie, Harry's daughter--did you know she's staying with us until her Mom comes?" Paul nodded. "Wow! I mean, usually school bus drivers are among the first to know things like that, but she didn't this morning, but you did. Weird.

"And last night, Mom came home in a state--wow! Right to her bedroom and I bet she wore out a set of batteries using her--thing she has that uses batteries." Patti blushed, realizing she might have revealed something her mother would prefer to keep secret. "And whenever we were alone, all she wanted to talk about was me and sex, I mean, sex and me, and if I did, did I want to.

"Am I making any sense?"

Paul smiled and nodded. "So, what did you tell her?"

Pat ti looked at Paul, shocked. "I told her my sex life, or lack of it, or surplus of it, was nobody's business but mine. And she could keep her cougar bait boyfriend to herself."

"Her cougar bait boyfriend! That's funny. So, which is it, surplus or lack?"

Patti gaped at him, shocked again, then laughed. "Damn. Well, since you seem to be so interested, there has been a severe dearth of attention paid to the carnal appetites of this young woman."

Paul's eyes twinkled in amusement as he replied. "That is just one fucking shame. Anything I can do to help?"

Patti was speechless. She opened her mouth to reply, but couldn't think of a suitable response. She pulled her books to her, to get up to leave, but sat, rooted to her chair.

Paul got up and walked around the table to her, tilted her head back, then bent down to plant a kiss on her lips. "Think about it, and call me. I would really, really love to help."

After Paul had walked away, Patti slowly regained her orientation to place and time. She shook her head to clear it and watched him as he walked through the coffee shop doors. She stood up and glanced down at her books. There, on a post-it, stuck to her Psych text, was Paul's name and what she recognized as a cell phone number. She wondered why she was smiling.

That evening, after dinner was done and cleared, Paul joined his mother in their living room. She was sitting in the easy chair, legs curled under her, watching TV, but not seeing it. Paul sat on the couch, looking at his mother. "Everything okay?" he asked.

The question filtered through her musings. "Hmm? Oh, yeah. Just wool gathering, nothing important."

"And bananas are this color," he replied, holding his hands about a foot and a half apart. "What?" he asked, again.

Rita looked at him, a trace of annoyance on her face, then grinned. "One of the problems of teaching your kids to be good at reading people is that it's hard to keep a secret.

She lowered her eyes, and speaking haltingly, told him, "I made a decision last night which may or may not impact us. I made it to avoid what I see as a strongly negative possible outcome of our relationship. I made it based on my history, and I made it only partly considering the impact on you, even though I knew you might have feelings about it.

"My decision would have been the same, regardless of how you felt, so I went ahead and started the process to implement that decision." She paused to look at him. "I am having my tubes cut and tied two weeks from this past Tuesday."

Paul sat open mouthed for a moment. "Just like that? I don't get a vote. Your body, your choice; that's the drill?" Hurt and anger were clear in his voice, on his face.

It was the reaction she had both feared and expected. With a mixture of anger and exasperation, she replied, "Don't do that, Paul! Don't make it sound like you will never have another chance at fathering a child; like I am your last hope. Society has changed a lot in their view toward unwed mothers, but there is still a social stigma attached to it unless you are very rich, very poor, or in an acceptable long term relationship, none of which describes what we have."

"What do we have, Mother? What is our relationship? What is our future?" The bitterness and pain were still evident.

"Our relationship? We're mother and son, first, last and always. Nothing will ever change that. Over the years, I think, we have also become friends. At least I like to think so. And recently, we have become lovers, lovers whose love must be kept secret, but lovers, still. Our future? I hope none of it changes.

The way we express our love, our friendship, even the responsibility in our biological relationship may be altered by time, but I hope the base relationships don't change." She looked at her son, seeing the anger, her expression, one of sadness and pain.

"Why the TL? It isn't necessary. I would be proud to care for our baby."

"Oh, Paul." her voice was a combination of sadness, exasperation, regret and anger. "You have no idea what it would be like for me to have a child without a husband today. You have no idea what we, what you would have to sacrifice. Don't you think I've considered all that? I went through it once; I won't go through it again!" Her voice and visage expressed a firmness he had never heard.

"What do you mean, you went through it once? You said my father walked out on you..."

"And that's the truth. When he found out I was pregnant, he simply stopped talking to me. I never said he was my husband. Legally, Paul, you are a bastard." She hesitated, then went on.

"I was sixteen and thought the sun rose and set on Timmy. One late summer afternoon, I was at his house. We were alone, drinking some wine punch his parents had left over from dinner the night before. We got a little silly, and before I left, for all intents and purposes, I was pregnant.

"My parents fought for a month before my father agreed to let me stay in his home. As soon as I finished my GED, they asked me to move and take you with me. They helped pay the rent, and so did Tim's parents, to be fair, as much as they could. And mom and dad did babysit so I could go to evening classes when I had to, to get my RN.

"But, as soon as a guy learned I was an unwed mother, they either ran, or assumed I had a price stamped on my ass. About the only people who were unconditionally supportive were the other women who were in similar circumstances. Go through that experience again, even with your support and help? Not if I can avoid it.

"Think what it would cost you if it got out that you were the father of my baby. You wouldn't be able to get a job anywhere in your chosen field. Even if it didn't get out, you'd have to drop out of school. One of us would have to stay home to care for the child. We couldn't afford day care and your school on my salary, even with the assistantship.

"And when my father found out I was pregnant again without being married, I'd be out of a job, and disinherited. And if he learned you were the father, he would denounce us from the pulpit of his church every week as long he drew breath.

"Dad is as skilled a physician as there is in this town, but his ability to tolerate human frailty doesn't extend to their behavior or emotions." She paused. "Shit! I'm rambling."

Paul broke in, speaking softly. "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't realize it had been so hard. You always seemed so cheerful, even when I could see you were tired, you always had a smile for me." He crossed the room and dropped to his knees in front of her chair. With his face in her lap, he asked, "Can I do anything to make up for all the problems I've caused you?"

She pulled his face up and kissed him warmly on his lips, coaxing them open. "Oh, Baby, you didn't cause any problems, any more than any other baby, that is. It was the holier--than--thou attitudes I had to deal with while making our way that caused the problems. Nobody could understand why I wasn't apologetic or ashamed of what I had done.

"Regardless of how Tim acted afterward, that afternoon had been an act of love, and you are its fruit. Why should I apologize or feel shame?"

"Do you know where he is?"

"Sadly, yes. He got a job teaching at a suburban school out around Chicago. There was a school riot. He tried to break up a fight and was stabbed in the abdomen. He died before help could get to him. I hear he left a wife.

"His parents were school teachers. When they got the news, they were shattered. He was an only child. They were older when he was born, in their late fifties, when you were born. They retired and moved to Florida; I heard they died shortly after they moved down. Sally and her girls live in their old house. 'Swhy I don't visit her often, but don't tell her that."

"I'm sorry I got upset, Mom. I should have realized you had a good reason for making such a hard decision. I like the way you described our relationship--mother and son, friends, lovers. And just like nothing will ever change the first part, nothing will ever change the other two, either.