Brendan watched sullenly as Jean Marsden came out of her front door and placed the bin bag by the front gate. He'd been infatuated with her since he was sixteen years old. And now, he was at the ripe old age of twenty five, he'd finally admitted that he was never going to get inside her lacy thong. His thoughts wandered as she bent over to drop the sack. He wasn't actually sure that he wouldn't get a chance, he was just so shy around her, he'd never even hinted or asked. He always seemed to get himself into a muddle every time he was in her company. He'd never understood why as he was always a big hit with the girls at school, college, and now at work. There again, Jean could hardly be called a girl. She was the same age as his mother and even though she was, Jean had a look about her that defied anything that he could write down in words. He would never be able to do her justice.
He caught his breath as she looked over to him and waved. He gave a little wave back and was thankful that she was so far away and couldn't see the embarrassing shade of red that come across his face. He turned away to head indoors, only to find his mother watching, knowingly, from the kitchen window.
Jean turned away and made her way back up the garden path, a small smile on her face. She'd known about Brendan's infatuation even before he did. She used to think it was really sweet, but these past few years her feelings were being somewhat conflicted. It hadn't gone un-noticed by Jean that Brendan had grown into a strapping young man. Being a divorcee and the children gone on, she spent a lot of time on her own. Of course she had her friends, especially Brendan's mother Rita who she often went out socializing with. And a wild time they always had. You couldn't count the number of times that they'd brought men back to her home and spent the night giving and having pleasure. They often spoke about Brendan and his feelings. Brendan's mother, although not having said so in so many words had forbidden Jean from taking Brendan into her bed. She hadn't given any explanation and Jean had a sneaky suspicion that if not yet, then soon, Rita would be attempting to take her own son into her own bed. She'd seen the way her eyes misted over whenever he walked into a room that they were already occupying. Not that Brendan noticed. His eyes were firmly on Jean and her expansive chest.
"I see you gave your customary morning wave to the slut over the street! " Rita said her back still away from her son as she continued to gaze out the window. She regretted the words as soon as they left her lips. Too late to take them back now. She waited, knowing her strapping son was staring at her. No doubt with his mouth agape.
" Why would you even call her that?.... She's supposed to be your dearest friend....... What has Jean ever done to you?" Brendan whispered, still at a loss over his mothers words.
"She hasn't done anything to me actually, I'm just sick of watching you two fawn over each other. I get sick of the way that you ogle her tits every time she comes over here." as Rita said this she couldn't help but slowly push her own expansive tits out and it didn't go unnoticed by her that her sons eyes immediately dropped down to see them. For at least two years Rita had longed for her own sons cock. She gazed down now and wasn't disappointed by the growing bulge in the front of his sweatpants.
Brendan slowly and purposely dragged his eyes away from his mothers tits and wasn't the least bit surprised by seeing his mother ogling his growing hard-on. He'd noticed a long time ago how she'd taken to ogling his manhood every time she got within seeing distance. This never failed to excite him, just as it was doing now. He smiled as he watched his mothers tongue slowly lick across her bottom lip. This made him harder and he felt that if his younger sister wasn't in the house they might of actually of crossed that forbidden line. As it was, he'd no doubt go to his own bedroom and with thoughts of Jean and his mother floating around his head he'd bring himself to a less than satisfying climax.
Rita watched her son walk away, having no response to her last comment. As he disappeared from view Rita lifted her hand and squeezed an elongated nipple. Her thoughts flew back to two years past when she'd come home early one Friday night only to find Brendan laid out on the sofa, absolutely naked, with Miranda Thomas sucking on the thickest and longest cock she'd ever seen. Rita had stood stunned at the doorway, her own cunt throbbing as she'd watched, unashamedly, as Miranda had given her son the blow jobs of blow jobs. She'd had no idea that her own son was built the way he was. And ever since, she'd been obsessed with his manhood. She measured every man that came her way with Brendan's huge tool. No one had come any where near him as yet. All Rita knew was that she wanted her own son big time and she was pretty sure that he wanted a piece of her too, but neither one of them knew how to cross that forbidden line of incest.
Rita listened to her son as he closed his bedroom door, having a pretty good idea of what was about to happen behind it. Quite often when they'd had an ogling session, Brendan would suddenly leave and go into his bedroom or the bathroom. If only her daughter Samantha wasn't in. An idea quickly formed in her head. Rita made her way to Samantha's room and knocked on the door.
"Samantha honey..... Are you busy?" she called through the door.
"No mum... what do you need?"
"If I let you take my car, would you go to Nan's for me. I promised her her baking books back by this week and it's Thursday now. Would you mind dropping them off for me?" Rita said slyly. The fact that she'd said that she could use her car was enough to swing it. She knew how much Samantha loved driving her car and also knew that it would take at least an hour for the return trip, that's not counting the time for chat and the inevitable cruising that she'd be doing. that's enough time for Rita.
True to form Samantha was out of her room and in the car in a flash and was soon powering her mothers convertible away from the house. Rita estimated that she would have approximately one and half hours before she returned. She ran to the bathroom, unbuttoning her tight blouse as she went. Once there she quickly removed her bra and after a moments thought, reached under her mid-thigh denim skirt and removed her knickers. She mused as she put her damp knickers in the wash basket how if this had been a girls night she'd of been wearing a thong and she wouldn't of removed them. She was well aware of what most men liked and she knew they liked thongs. Checking herself out in the bathroom mirror she reasoned that for forty seven she wasn't half bad. Still had a great figure that caught men and boys attention, she smiled to herself as she thought even the odd woman had been caught ogling her tits and arse.
Not giving herself time to think for fear of chickening out she crept along the hallway until she got to Brendan's door. She leant her ear to it and could hear a rhythmic drumming and the occasional groan coming from her son. Her already hardened nipples became so distended they were obscenely poking their way through her blouse. She quickly reached down and deftly undid all but the last two buttons on her blouse, grabbed the door handle and walked straight in. Brendan's body left the bed as his bedroom door flew open.
"For fucks sake mum.... Why didn't you knock?" he said as he tried frantically and unsuccessfully to pull his boxers over his hard cock before his mother could see it.
"I'm so sorry love I didn't realise that you were even in here. I thought you'd gone out." all the while staring at his throbbing tool that he was still trying to cover. Rita decided to go for it'
