Our Neighbors A Porn Star Pt 02

Our Neighbor's a Porn Star!

Part Two: Mom's Turn

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~~ All characters in this book are over 18. ~~

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"So, Heather...what's my son like in bed?"

"Barbara, you have no idea."

Despite the fact that Barb Shroyer had just indulged in one of her long-time fantasies, one which she had been sure would never be realized, the answer to her question brought an unexpected jolt of lust to her mind. Her son, a good lover? Or, judging by Heather's tone, more than good? Her ex-porn-star neighbor and current lover didn't pretend to misunderstand her, or protest that she wasn't having sex with Nate. In fact, her deep, throaty voice was just the tiniest bit smug.

She lightly smacked the younger woman's bottom, the slap ringing in the quiet bedroom where they had recently been exerting themselves. "You're not doing it right, you horny little tramp. You're supposed to simper and protest that Nate was okay, you guess, but after a night in my arms I've ruined you for men for the rest of your life. And that you're swearing off them from now on."

Heather McCormick, known to thousands of men worldwide as 'Heather Fawxx,' one-time adult actress for Sweet Seduction Video, blinked at her cheerfully. "Really? That doesn't sound like the sort of thing I would say at all, to be honest." She reached out an arm and snuggled the dark-haired woman in closer. "What's the matter, babe? Jealous?"

Barb put her arms around her, breathing in the sweet, clean scent of her hair, mixed with the floral aroma of her perfume. "No. Not at all." She paused for a moment. "Well, not much. I was, a bit, when I came home a few days ago and Nate smelled like hot dirty sex. And the only likely candidate was you."

"Hey. That's not fair," the younger woman protested. "I'd just gotten out of the shower. It might have been hot, but the sex couldn't have been much cleaner."

She giggled. "You know what I mean. Nate reminded me of how it used to be before his father left us." One hand squeezed the sweet curve of Heather's bottom. "Hot and nasty. And I knew it was you he'd been with. I was...very surprised. Not that I disapproved," she said quickly. "But I thought you moved to South Dakota to get away from that sort of thing."

"I moved to South Dakota to get away from filming sex for money," Heather replied. "I sure as hell didn't give up sex." She bit her lip. "And I got to tell you, babe, when he pulled me out of that windstorm the other day and pushed me inside, it was crazy. I hadn't been turned on so much in a long time. Years."

Barb frowned. "He wasn't...he wasn't rough with you or anything, was he?" She thought she had raised Nate better than that. But the dreamy look in Heather's eye spoke of a woman who was deeply in touch with her kinky side, and didn't mind a bit. And, she suddenly thought, who was she to get involved? Nate was an adult. And Heather was more than capable of taking care of herself.

Her hand rose to cup Barb's cheek. "No. Not at all. It was different than that." Her glorious blue eyes looked into the middle distance, and she shivered suddenly, the faint tremors setting up enticing ripples through her body. "It was...it had been so long since I felt that someone cared about me, Barbara. About Heather McCormick. Not about Heather Fawxx, adult film superstar." Her voice dripped scorn as she recited her title. "I could tell. When he pulled me inside and gave me that lecture about frostbite, it wasn't because he was trying to score points or trying to get laid. It was because he cared." Her voice grew tender. "You have a damn good boy, Barb."

She smiled in shy pride. "I like to think so."

"And that's why he's so great in the sack," Heather said blithely. "I've been to bed with better-looking guys. And better-hung guys, too." She made a face. "I've been to bed with guys who were too well-hung, to be honest."

She covered her ears with her hands. "La-la-la I can't hear you."

Heather laughed and pulled her arms down. The movement made their breasts brush together, and she sighed happily. Before she could help herself, she was kissing Heather again, her tongue slipping between the younger woman's lips. Pressure on her thigh made her look down, only to see Heather grinding her pussy on the muscles of her upper leg.

God, this is wonderful.

"But Nate," Heather continued, when they finally paused for breath, "is there for you. Oh, he likes sex, don't get me wrong. He likes sex a lot," she grinned smugly. "But he loves making me happy, too. And he's really good at it. I think I've had more orgasms in the two nights we've been together than I did with other men in the last six months I was in LA."

"He's that good?" Barb said faintly. Now she was starting to get jealous. She knew she was a beginner when it came to girl-on-girl sex. And Heather obviously had no hang-ups at all when it came down to whether she preferred men or women. But to think that her son, barely eighteen, was able to sexually satisfy a woman who was not only nearly ten years older than he was, but one of the most famous adult actresses of all time was a little...daunting.

"Mmm," Heather said, smiling faintly. She ran her hands down her back. "He was already pretty good when I took him to bed. And with me to teach him, he's getting better and better. He does this one thing that I just adore. He'll be on top of you. Inside you. And he barely moves his cock. Just tiny little pumps." Before she could protest, a finger had slipped between her pussy lips, softly pushing in and out. "And he'll kiss your titties and play with your nips. Back and forth, back and forth." Her blue eyes grew dark and hazy with remembered pleasure.

"Ooh, Barb!" she exclaimed in mock surprise. "You're getting all...wet. Down there. Am I turning you on?" A second finger joined the first, and she bit back a groan of sheer pleasure. "Naughty naughty. Getting horny while I describe what your baby boy is like in bed. You're disgusting." Her hands told another tale, however, as they roamed over her eagerly.

"Then," Heather continued, "he'll tongue your nips. And start stroking you, inside. A little faster, a little harder, and he's still all over your breasts. If you can keep from coming when he does that, well, you're a lot more frigid than I think."

"I'm not frigid," she protested. "And I...ohhhh...don't want to go to bed with my son."

"Really?" In and out. In and out. Her fingers kept up their slow, torturous teasing of her canal. "If you weren't interested, babe, why did you ask?" Another, tantalizing stroke, making her throw her head back and moan. "Your mouth says no, but your body says yes. Don't worry. I'm not judging." She snorted, though her lips traced the line of her neck, nibbling softly. "I think I've filmed every fetish out there. And I might have invented a few. Lots of guys get off on mother-son porn. Women, too," she said thoughtfully.

"And I can understand why women go for it. When your husband is a fat, doughy blob who can't get it up without the help of a little blue pill, and your son is young and hot, with tight muscles and a hard cock you can ride three or four times a night, what's not too like? And teenage boys are even worse. Or better. If your mom knows everything about sex, and is just dying to teach you all she knows. Not like those girls at school who use their teeth on a blowjob, or who are so worried about their losing their virginity they just won't let you do the one thing you need to do. Why not Mom?"

Remember that time you walked in on him in the bathroom? Her traitorous mind threw out a hidden memory. You got more than an eyeful that time. Wouldn't it be nice to have it inside you? Sharing it with you and with Heather?

Heather's breath was hot in her ear as she whispered. Her skillful fingers, her unabashed lust and the images her voice brought to mind soon had Barb hovering on the crest of yet another climax.

"But how?" she gasped, her loins rising, humping involuntarily against Heather's thrusting fingers. "Nate's a romantic, poor kid. As long as he's going out with you, he's not going to look at me. And I'm not going to come between you. And I don't want to give up what we have."

"Silly girl." Heather's fingers curled inside her canal, seeking out her most sensitive places. Barb arched her back, keening with pleasure, as they stroked her, sending her to heights she had never experienced with her unlamented husband. "I'm not letting either of you two go. You're fantastic. All we need to do is to be a little...creative.

"Here's what we're going to do."

*****

The next morning was Saturday, and Nate slept late. He had been out until after midnight the previous night. After his hockey team had been pasted by Central, he and some of his friends had gone out for pizza. After that, they had gone over to Jimmy's house and played video games in his basement until nearly three in the morning. When he had finally driven home, the headlights of his car had played over a winter landscape that seemed completely deserted, as if some apocalypse had visited Rapid City and whisked all the inhabitants away, leaving him behind.

It was good to get home, take a hot shower, driving away the December chill that his car's valiant heater could not quite match, and crawl into a comfortable bed piled high with thick blankets. It was even better to wake the next morning at the crack of ten, with the smell of waffles and frying sausage in his nostrils. He blinked, sitting up in bed, throwing off the heavy down comforter his mom had bought him the previous Christmas, and limped into the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later he walked into the kitchen, doing up the strings of his flannel pants, worn for comfort on a lazy weekend day. "Morning, Mom," he said around a yawn. "That smells great."

"Good," she said, smiling at him over her shoulder as she lifted a waffle off the iron. "You're up. You can help set the table."

"Nag nag nag," he said good-naturedly, but pulled plates, silverware, and glasses out of the cabinet next to the stove. As he did, he caught the aroma of a light, floral scent in his mother's hair. It smelled uncommonly similar to one of Heather's perfumes.

He put the thought out of his mind and set the table, then opened the fridge to pull out milk and orange juice.

"You've shown your usual cleverness in getting up just in time for a meal," his mother said as they sat down.

He grinned at her and transferred a stack of waffles to his plate. He rolled on a couple of sausage links and some toast to keep them company, and poured maple syrup on the whole pile, ignoring his mother's look of distaste. "How can I help it? The smell of cooking food goes straight into my lizard-brain. It says, 'Wake up! I'm hungry!'"

"Your what?"

"My lizard-brain. I learned about it in psychology this semester. It's what psychologists and biologists call the oldest part of the brain, evolutionarily speaking. The amygdala. The brain stem." He made a vague gesture towards the back of his head and took a bite of syrup-soaked waffles. His next words were somewhat muffled by a full mouth. "It's what governs our primitive responses. Fight or flight, food." He blushed, staring down at his plate. Barb watched the show with interest. "Sex."

"Really?" she drawled. "How interesting. And why do they call it the lizard-brain?"

"Well, that's we evolved from, right? I mean, way back when we first crawled out of the muck?"

She smiled and shook her head, taking a bite of her own waffle. "Don't let your father hear you talking like that."

"Fat chance," he said sourly. "Though," he said, brightening, "it would be a great way of getting under his skin. I already have lots of fun getting him riled up by pointing out all the places where the bible doesn't make any sense."

"You," she said, "have an evil mind. How did the game go last night?"

"We lost," he said with a shrug. "No surprise. Central's really good. I think they can win state. I got an assist in garbage-time, when they pulled their starters. It ended up seven to two. How was your shopping trip with Heather?"

"It was really nice." She smiled, dimples forming at the corners of her mouth. "I swear, Nathaniel, that girl might have been raised in New Hampshire, but she must have forgotten everything she knew about dressing in cold weather. I'm glad you were around to help her out the other night. Hopefully she can take care of herself from now on."

"I'll keep an eye on her," he promised. Unspoken was his hope that his mother would have something to do today and he could sneak over to Heather's house for an afternoon of screwing. She had sent him a text message earlier which was fairly easy to figure out, as it only consisted of a nude selfie.

"And we did a little shopping for me, too," Barb continued. She stood and pirouetted in place. "I got a new robe. Do you like it?"

"You look great." The robe was a deep red, which set off Barb's pale skin and dark hair and eyes. Much lighter than the bathrobe she usually wore around the house on cold winter mornings, it clung to her body suggestively. "What's wrong with the old one?"

She flipped a hand at him. "Nothing's wrong with it. But come on, Nate. I bought that thing at Penney's five years ago. It's nice to bum around the house in it, but sometimes a girl wants to feel attractive." She drew the belt tight, which only emphasized her narrow waist and the lush curves of her chest and hips. "And it's silk. It feels sooo good on my skin." She ran her hands up her sides from her hips to her breasts, pretending not to notice as Nate's eyes widened. There. A quick, almost imperceptible shift of her shoulders, and the white swell of her breast came into view. "Oops," she said, drawing a fold of cloth over her chest. "Sorry, honey," she said. "I didn't mean to give you a free show."

"No problem," Nate said, but his face was flaming red. He stared down at his plate in embarrassment, playing with his food like he was fourteen and she had caught him with a stack of dirty magazines. She didn't need to be a mind-reader to know how eager his gaze had been, or his hopes that her nipple might come into view. She could feel it peaking under the warm silk, and had to close her eyes against a sudden surge of sexual excitement.

Time to back off. She smiled to herself as she remembered Heather's instructions of the night before.

"Remember, Barb," she had said, just before she left for home. "Things like this don't happen by accident, no matter what the pornos say. We have to bring him to it slowly. If you strip in front of him, he'll run, because he'll have no idea how to react.

"But we have an advantage."

"What, besides being horny and gorgeous?" she had replied, giving the actress a loving kiss.

"Yes, besides that. You know that Nate and I are lovers. And you know who I am. And what I did. But Nate thinks you don't know a damn thing about me. So when we finally spring this on him, it'll have one hell of an impact."

"And how would you know?" she had asked. "I'm sure you're right, but..."

Heather held her close. "I've done my research, babe. You might call it overkill. Jake certainly did. He couldn't understand why I wanted to know how real incestuous relationships formed." Her voice took on a broad cockney accent. "'We're sellin' fanasties, girlie. Why d'you want to bring facts into it?'" She snorted mildly. "But I wanted to know. If I was going to pretend to be a horny teen seducing my stepfather, I wanted to know how it really happens in the real world.

"And just remember, babe, stories like these don't always have happy endings. So make sure this is what you really want. You have plenty of time to change your mind."

She sat back down in her chair, her eyes on her son. I do want this. The experiences of last night had broken chains she had long despaired of losing. Not only had she finally made love to a woman, after decades of mute longing, but she also now knew that the one man in the world who she wanted most was sitting across from her, wolfing down waffles as if they were an endangered species.

God, he's good-looking, she thought, stifling an inner sigh. She sipped orange juice, taking in his body with hungry eyes. Not too tall, but with shoulders that promised to fill out when he hit his full growth. His skin was winter-pale, lightly dusted with sandy blond hair, the same color as that on his head. He was lithe and quick, with a body honed by hours at the hockey rink.

And Heather had told him enough about what he had hidden in his pants to satisfy even her feverish curiosity.

"Mom? Hello? Earth to Mom!"

She blinked, coming back to herself from her daydream, glad that Nate was too young to realize she had been undressing him with her eyes. "Sorry, honey. I zoned out there for a minute. What did you say?"

"I was asking what you were going to be doing today."

"I have a house to show," she said. She glanced at the clock on the wall. "I should start getting ready, to be honest. I should be home around four-thirty or so. What about you?"

He made a disgusted face. "Final exams next week. I'm going to be studying most of the weekend." His look cheered in one of his mercurial changes of mood. "But three weeks of winter break after that. Nothing to do but sleep late and hang out all day."

"Well, I think I'll be able to find something for you to do," she said, hiding an evil smile. Or someone. Like me. She got up. "I'm going to get dressed for the showing. Can you clean up?"

"Sure, Mom."

She dropped a kiss on his head, allowing her chest to press into his shoulder. "You're a good boy, Nate. I don't tell you often enough. I love you."

"I love you too, Mom."

*****

Barb arrived back home a little after five o'clock, to be met by Nate, a grin lighting his face from ear to ear.

"It came! It came!" He grabbed her and spun her in a circle, lifting her completely off the ground. Her feet kicked helplessly at thin air.

"What came, you big goof?" she said when he finally put her on the ground.

"The acceptance from the University of Wyoming," he said. "Finally! It was in my in-box when I got back from-" He cut himself off, "when I got back from running an errand." He waved at a sheaf of print-out on the dining-room table. "it's all there. Residence information, meal plans, payment schedule, the works."

"That's fantastic, honey," she said with a smile. Hah, she thought inwardly. Running errands my ass. Heather had sent her an edited version of her afternoon with Nate, along with a picture of his well-toned backside she had taken with her cell phone while he wasn't looking. That tantalizing image had been seared into her brain and it had taken all of her self-control to keep a professional demeanor through the day, rather than locking herself in the bathroom to finger herself to orgasm, as she wanted to do.

"We should celebrate," she added. "Where do you want to go eat? And don't," she said, wagging her finger sternly, "say 'hamburgers.' You're a grown man. We are not going to McDonald's tonight."

"C'mon, Mom," he said in mock whine. "Happy Meal?"

"No." Her lips twitched and she fought to keep her face stern.

"Happy Meal! Happy Meal!" he shouted, running around the house, sounding like a demented six-year-old. "Happy Meal!"

"No," she said again. "I'm going to change. When I get back here, you better look presentable."

*****

"I feel like a banker in this," Nate griped as they sat down at Delmonico's, one of the pricier eateries in the city. Not, Barb was forced to admit, that Rapid City, South Dakota, could compete with New York or Chicago for fine dining.