Mother's Mil

Part Two.

Heather slammed the bathroom door, locked it and leaned against the painted timber as tears threatened to stain her burning cheeks.

Why was she so upset?

It had been a shock, certainly, to awaken alone from a brief nap in the sun to return to the house and discover her children doing...

that

in the shower. Well, only Gemma was technically her offspring but she cared for Sean like a mother, didn't she?

She hadn't responded as a maternal figure should when he was running those rough hands all over her ripe figure and grinding his long, thick stiffness into her big backside. No, Heather had moaned like a cheap floozy and encouraged her misguided stepson by rubbing back into him instead of telling the poor boy to stop.

Except Sean wasn't a boy anymore and it took two to tango.

It had felt good to be desired by a man again. To feel strong hands and the physical evidence of masculine yearning pressed against her warm flesh, so tantalizingly close to her painfully neglected womanhood. That overheated part of her anatomy had wanted to open its dripping entrance and welcome his prodding hardness into her waiting womb.

Sean's hardness; huge and throbbing and full of virile--

"No, oh please, no... don't let it be true." Heather wept, collapsing to sit on the edge of the bathtub. The cold edge of the porcelain tub dug into her firm butt cheeks but did little to cool the smoldering fire in her core. "It would be so wrong..."

Would it though? Her body didn't seem to think so. Even now, her stiff nipples leaked for the handsome young man in her life. Her pussy ached to feel him inside of her and the fresh, vivid memory of what she had just witnessed flashed on repeat in her horny mind.

Sean standing naked in the shower like a glistening Adonis with her beautiful daughter kneeling before his massive, hunky dick. There could be no question of what... activity they had been engaged in.

Heather's heavy tits throbbed in sync with her empty loins and the three darkened wet spots on the ridiculously undersized swimsuit spreading in an incriminating corroboration of her forbidden desires.

She could blame the fertility medication or baby-brain. Make a case of her husband's constant absence and cooling ardor. Heather could even tell herself that was simply a silly crush for an undeniably good-looking male specimen. A natural physiological reaction to an attractive member of the opposite sex.

But her messy tears put the lie to all of that.

It was her heart that was hurting most of all and it wasn't because of some stupid hormonal imbalance or primitive instinct to breed. It was because... could Heather finally admit it?

"Mom, are you in there? It's me, Gemma, I just want to talk."

A bitter laugh broke through the mature blonde's sobs and she snatched a length of toilet paper off the nearby roll to dab at her red-rimmed eyes.

"I know it's you, Honey. A mother never forgets the sound of her child's voice." She called back, trying to steady the sad quiver in her bottom lip. "Can you give Mommy a minute, please?"

"I don't think I can, Mom." Her daughter sighed regretfully and Heather could picture her leaning on the outside of the door. "We need to talk about what just happened and what it means to you. Please let me in."

What it meant to her? Heather's back stiffened. She was ready to march over to the door and fling it open to give the presumptuous brat a sound tongue lashing when she suddenly hesitated, her fingers on the latch.

"It's only me out here." Gemma said softly as though reading her mother's thoughts. "I told Sean to chill downstairs on the couch while us girls chatted."

Taking a deep breath, Heather left the bathroom to confront her daughter with a wooden expression.

They faced each other in the master bedroom. The same bedroom Heather shared with Sean's father, it was a space that she had never managed to leave her mark on. The room was well lit, the colors were warm and the furnishings neat but Paul had always been resistant to all but the smallest feminine touches on what he called 'her side of the room'.

One walk-in wardrobe was full of his suits, ties and casual clothes while the other still held much of his past wife's apparel which the stubborn widower refused to remove. Heather was sharing closet space with a dead woman and while she had tried to be understanding, compassionate, it was a constant reminder that she was playing second fiddle to a lover long lost to her new husband.

"I can't imagine there is much to be said after what you have done." She coldly, sitting on the king-sized bed and turning her nose up in the air. "Heavens, Gemma. You only met the boy this morning and he's your step brother for goodness sake!"

Her daughter was wrapped in a large blue terrycloth bath towel that covered her full figure from the top swell of her immense bosom to the middle of her thick thighs. Her long platinum hair hung in damp tangles across her shoulders and back as the young trouble-maker stared intently back at Heather with an inscrutable look on her pretty face.

"Mom, you're crying." she said, it was a statement of fact. "Do you know why?"

Heather's brow furrowed as she stared incredulously at the brazen girl. Gemma didn't look the slightest bit awkward or apologetic, she just stood there with a gentle but oddly determined expression and met her mother's stern gaze without flinching.

"What sort of question is that, young lady?" She snapped, crossing her arms over her sore breasts. "I walk in on my daughter

fellating

her naked step brother in the shower and you wonder why I am upset?"

Gemma sighed and shook her head, walking over to sit next to her mother on the bed.

"I'm not questioning the cause of your distress, Mom." She said in a quiet voice. They were seated so close their wide hips nearly touched. "I simply want you to explain to me, and yourself, why it made you feel this way."

The older blonde seethed at the audacity, the impudence! Was her daughter mocking her now? Right after shaming herself by... by...

"Look, nobody was doing anything wrong, we are all consenting adults and I have always been very open with you about my active sex life." Gemma continued, tentatively wrapping a comforting arm around her mother's trim waist. "We've always been completely honest with each other, Mom. Can you please be honest with me now?"

That was true. Heather had always encouraged a judgment-free dialogue with her one and only child. She never had the time to be a helicopter parent and it was a means to make sure the blossoming young woman was practicing safe avenues of adolescent exploration, as well as maintaining an unshakable foundation of mutual love and respect between them.

"It--it was a shock. That is all, Honey." She hedged, the slow creep of anxiety sneaking up on her as Gemma touched on something she wasn't ready to articulate yet. "It's one thing to know on an intellectual level but another to see in the... um, flesh."

Gosh but that sounded lame ever to her own ears as Heather felt the heat of humiliation spreading from her cheeks, down her neck and across the top slopes of her tender breasts.

"I know, mom and I get it, I really do..." Gemma crooned, resting her head on her mother's shoulder. "But from a tough, brass-knuckled lady like you? We both know that you aren't that easily shaken. You aren't angry with me are you?"

Was she?

Even before Heather allowed herself a risky peek of self-analysis, she knew that wasn't the case. Neither could she break out the tested and proven "no, just disappointed" that had served mothers well from times immemorial. Because, in the end, Heather's tears weren't the product of shock or embarrassment or outrage...

They were tears of heartbreak and jealousy.

Her cheeks ran with fresh waterworks as the dark curtains of denial parted and allowed the liberating light of truth burn away months worth of deceiving herself and rationalizing away the powerful, adulterous affection Heather felt for her stepson.

"No, Honey. I could never!" She wailed, burying her beloved daughter in a crushing hug. "It's only that I--I..."

"You love Sean."

Gemma's words were a smidge muffled, coming from within her mother's colossal, creamy cleavage but they struck home nevertheless. Heather pulled back just far enough to look down at her in astonishment.

"Wait, you knew?"

"Give me some credit, Mom. If I hadn't caught the hint from the way you gushed over the guy on the phone..." The vexatious brat wiped moisture from her own cheeks. Her eyes were dry as milky droplets beaded on her dainty fingertips. "How could I miss the way your body is literally gushing for him now?"

Heather clapped her hands down over the darkened patches of her distorted green one-piece with a horrified squawk and a wet

splat.

Gemma just giggled and licked her fingers clean.

"That's... That's just a side-effect of the hormone treatment--"

"Mom, please. I'm no doctor but I am a veterinarian." Her daughter smirked with a knowing glance down at the badly soiled swimwear clinging to Heather's inflated curves. "I've been trained to manually stimulate prize stallions, artificially inseminate broodmares for foaling and track the reproductive cycle of whole herds of cattle. You're no heifer but the clear symptoms are all there."

"Symptoms?" She knew what Gemma was getting at and there were days Heather really did feel like a cow with her huge heavy udders bursting with milk. "It's so awful, Honey. My body wants him so badly but my heart doesn't know what to do."

She could feel the tears threatening to return and lowered her head in shame.

"I understand, Mom. You married the wrong man of this house and now you feel guilty about your feelings for Sean." Her daughter's arm around her waist gave a comforting squeeze. "But you can't continue to torture yourself like this, I won't allow it. You need to say 'fuck Paul' then literally go fuck his son. Be with the man you actually love. Put yourself first for once in your life."

While Heather didn't appreciate her little girl's crass choice of language, her words were not without merit. Like a seed being planted in rich soil, the idea slowly germinated in beautiful mother's mind and grew on her.

She hadn't been truly happy in some time. A long time, in fact. The brief flare of passion with Paul that had brought Heather to Pittsburgh had reawakened her to the joys of romantic and intimate love only to be cruelly snatched away again too soon.

Was she doomed to sink back into loneliness again or could she take a leap of faith and gamble her matronly heart on one last chance at happiness?

"Wait, Gem-Gem, what about you?" She asked, remembering the sordid scene in the bathroom. "Aren't you also interested in Sean?"

"Only to a given value of interest." Gemma replied airily but there was a smile in her voice. "Like, I'm interested in his big, yummy dick and seeing how fast he can fuck a baby into me. Maybe a quick tumble now and then whenever I am in town but otherwise I'm not looking for anything serious. I'm moving to New Mexico to start my new job soon but want to be round and ready to pop by the first calving of the spring."

"You want me to leave my husband to share a man with you? Honey, you can't be serious."

"Not sharing! More like... lending or shared custody. You get him most of the time and I get supervised visitation rights." Gemma giggled, clearly tickled by the notion. "Think about it, Mom, if we both catch a pregnancy soon we can raise them at the same time and nobody needs to ever know. It would be

tooo~

fucking cute!"

The image of not one beautiful infant but two danced across Heather's juiced-up baby-brain. The whole idea was outrageous, ridiculous and... and...

Could she finally concede to her feelings and seize the long denied happiness in whatever form it might take?

Would she ever have the courage to do so alone?

"You're getting ahead of yourself there, little Miss." She said in her best stern mothering voice. Pulling back from her daughter and trying desperately to ignore the molten heat boiling below her belly button at the scandalous suggestion. "Sean has a say in this too, you know. What he if doesn't want any part of your crazy plan or me?"

"That won't be a problem, believe me." Gemma said, with a self-assured nod. "He's a healthy, horny young man. But if you are worried, a clever girl can always find ways to sweeten the deal for her prospective Beau."

"What do you mean?" Heather asked but her daughter was already distracted, looking past her at the walk-in closet that she shared with the late lady of the house.

"Just that I have a few ideas..."

________________

Sean was practicing his man-spread on the large living room couch and trying to pay attention to the ballgame on the television. The Pittsburgh Pirates were having a good innings but somehow, he couldn't focus on the sprawling flat-screen after the turbulent day he was having.

Gemma had sucked him off in the shower, then sent him downstairs to cool his heels while she smoothed things over with her mother after they had been discovered. As far as bad days went, this one was a doozy and Sean wanted to hit his recent past-self in the face with a shovel.

But why? Other than being indiscreet, what had he done that was so wrong?

He had face-fucked the daughter and spitting image of the woman he had been silently worshiping from afar since the moment he met her. That was what, and the young man felt rotten about the whole sticky mess.

Especially since Sean had contributed the sticky part to that mess himself, though it was hard to feel regret about that part.

It had been as though a year's worth of backed-up emotions and hot cum had erupted from the core of his being, completely lost to the taboo fantasy of packing his step-mothers mouth and stomach full of his stepson seed. Because that was who he had been picturing at the time; Heather down on her knees and lavishing his cock with hungry attention.

Fuck, even now he was getting hard just thinking about it. Sean adjusted his unfurling length in the loose athletics shorts he had thrown on in a hurry and scratched at his bare chest as he tried to settle down.

"Hey there BIG little brother..." A sultry feminine voice purred from behind him. "You're looking awfully lonesome down there all by yourself. Want some company?"

Sean groaned and ran a weary hand down his face. Gemma was back and sounded like she hadn't learned a damn thing from their earlier misconduct.

"Dammit, Gemma. You're meant to be patching things up with your mom, not flirting with trouble again."

There was a flurry of girlish whispers from behind him--maybe up on the stairs?--and Sean was abruptly self-conscious of his half-dressed state. There was only one person that the irrepressible tease could be conversing with in such hushed tones.

"Um, it's okay, Sweetie. Gemma and I have kissed and made up." Heather said and she sounded nervous for some reason. "May we come join you? On the couch, I mean."

Sean twisted to face the two ladies and his jaw nearly came unhinged from his skull as it went slack in disbelief. They were standing--no, they were

posing

--on the stairs where he had suspected, dolled up like a double-feature wet dream.

The pair of busty bespectacled beauties were bedecked in brightly colored, heinously revealing silk cheongsam dresses that hugged their luscious curves like a second skin and bared entire hectares of pale, perfect skin for Sean's widening eyes to ravish.

High slits ran up each side of the dresses, all the way over their child-bearing hips, exposing long miles of toned calves and firm fleshy thighs from behind the draping front flaps of shimmering fabric. Gemma's enormous ivory breasts almost spilled free from the low-cut strapless neckline of her burgundy and silver gown while Heather's noticeably larger cleavage swelled heavily out from between two halter straps that were stretched paper-thin from framing and constraining her magnificent mammaries within sheer cups of cobalt blue and gold silk.

"Wha--what are you girls wearing?" Sean rasped, his mouth gone desert dry with shock and arousal.

"You like, little bro?" Gemma preened under his lusty stare and flipped back her loose curtain of moonlight-silver hair. It flowed all the way down to her bubbly butt in straight gleaming locks. "Maybe you recognize our outfits?"

His gaze raked up and down the two voluptuous goddesses posturing for his pleasure upon the carpeted stairway. Heather shook her golden tresses loose from a loose bun, looking a bit shaky in her strappy stiletto heels and blew him a shy kiss. They were both wearing elaborate lingerie beneath the scant dresses, translucent thigh high stockings and connected lacy garters vanishing up under the broad sheeny sashes encircling their teensy-tiny waists.

The under-sized silk garments did look somewhat familiar to Sean, a callback from distant memory? But as the two gorgeous, curvaceous temptresses sashayed their way down the stairs and clicked their way across the polished hardwood floor towards him on teetering high heels, all rational thought staged a tactical retreat from his lust-addled brain and waved the white flag of blissful surrender.

"Outfits?" He asked dumbly, his vision locked on the two hard points poking through azure silk of his dazzling step-mother's top. "Aaah... yeah, they look amazing on you both."

Heather was blushing under her stepson's wrapped attention and kept glancing at Gemma as though for support as they approached, arm in arm, at a slow catwalk strut. Crossing one heeled foot in front of the other in perfect synchrony and adding an extravagant swish to their broad, beautiful hips.

"They are a little tight on our robust country girl figures," Gemma said with a naughty grin. "But I'm guessing that your mom was a bit smaller than either of us?"

Then it hit Sean like a thunderbolt where he had seen the two skimpified cheongsams before. It had been over a decade earlier when Paul returned from a two month contract in southern China...

"You're wearing her dresses." He rasped, boggling at the way both sexy women spilled out of the exotic attire. "Why are you both wearing my mother's dresses?"

It was so wrong, seeing something so sacred to his absentee father adorning these glorious nymphet's sinful bodies as they swayed forward in tandem to stand before Sean where he was rooted to the couch. So deliciously wrong and cock-hardeningly right in all the most wicked ways.

"Because we want you to make us both Mommy's today, little brother." Gemma crooned, bending low from the waist until her bulky cleavage hung an inch away from his dry lips. The perky peaks of her pebbled nipples catching the edge of the shiny fabric were the only reason the top-half of the gown hadn't slipped down to her slim waist. "Your mom and your sister want you to take that huge stepbro cock and fuck us full of your babies."

Wha--Babies?" Sean could smell them both as they closed in on him. Sweet sweat, coconut sun lotion, floral shampoo and the musky tang of female arousal. The heady cocktail of scents wafted off both of them. "Holy shit, for real? Heather too?"

He tore his eyes away from the cavernous depths of Gemma's creamy cleavage to stare dumbfounded at his bodacious stepmom who was cupping both her flushing cheeks in her palms and looking away in nervous excitement.

Then Sean's wandering gaze inevitably meandered its way down her expansive slopes and noticed the darkening sheen spreading from twin outlines of her fat nipples pressing through her sleek gown.

"Please, Sweetie..." Heather said in a quiet, breathy groan. "I want another child so badly. Your father... can't get the job done but if it was with you..."