11

All characters in sexual situations are 18 or older. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 10

"I... um..." Claire looked around the coffee shop, anywhere but at her friend, Violet. She took a sip of coffee. She mustered her courage and looked into Violet's expectant, hazel eyes. "I missed my period," Claire said quickly.

"You're probably just off your rhythm a bit..." Violet processed the information. "Wait... you don't think..." Violet had assumed Claire was using protection with Jackson. Or at least timing her cycle. That's what Violet had been doing with her brother.

"I was thinking, maybe a baby would help with understanding your serum?" Claire offered a faint smile to her friend. "With genomic tendencies in -"

"You're keeping the baby?" Violet's mouth dropped open. "What about your work in the lab? Who's going to be the father?"

"Don't be silly. Jackson is the father."

"I mean, who's going to raise your baby with you? Because Jackson is eighteen and, well, preoccupied with his... dating life." Violet couldn't believe what she was hearing. "What about your work in the lab?"

"I want this baby." Claire put a hand on her still flat stomach protectively. "And actually, as I was about to say, if you really want to understand your serum, I think a baby is an excellent opportunity."

"You've lost your mind." Violet shook her head.

Claire leaned forward across the little table. "Think about it. Think about what Jackson's babies could mean for science. For humanity. I want to be a part of something special."

"This doesn't sound like you Claire." Violet reached out and put her hand on her friend's hand. "We're not vessels for science. Maybe we should image your brain and see -"

"I knew you wouldn't understand." Claire stood up. "I think babies are a good idea. Think about it." She frowned and walked toward the door of the coffee shop.

"Babies? Plural? You want me to have my brother's baby? Your really are crazy," Violet called after Claire. Every eye in the small shop turned on Violet. She looked around and smiled nervously at the crowd. Violet packed up her things and headed for home.

~~

Normally, the early afternoon was time for Margaret's yoga class. She put on her yoga pants and yoga tank top with the built-in sports bra. She put her hair up and added a bit of waterproof makeup to her face. Looking in the mirror, Margaret felt ready for her class. She walked to the mudroom, picked up her keys, and stopped at the door to the garage. She paused there for a long while, her hand on the door handle. She then turned and dropped her keys in the dish.

Maybe that despicable Burton teenager would stop by after school? Did she want to be at home when he arrived? Surely not. But her knees trembled at the thought and butterflies filled her stomach. It had been three days since that depraved moment at the Burton house, and every afternoon Margaret had decided not to go to yoga class. She was behaving like a schoolgirl with a crush. A crush for a brutish, malformed miscreant. But, however terrifying the teenager's penis was, the thought of it had changed her daily routine. She looked over at the clock on the wall and saw that it was already too late. She wouldn't make the class in time. Margaret went into the kitchen and got herself a glass of water. Little ripples formed on the surface of the water as her hand trembled. She needed to get her mind off Jackson.

The doorbell rang and Margaret froze. The water just touched her lips. It was him. She knew it was. He'd stopped at her house after school. What was she supposed to do? She thought of her trusting husband working hard at work. She couldn't give herself over to that beast outside again. But she couldn't very well let him stand out there for all the neighbors to see. She lowered the glass from her mouth.

The walk through her house to the front door seemed to take an eternity. She was dimly aware that answering the door in her yoga clothes would give that feral youth's roving eyes much to look at. But she didn't even stop to put on a loose shirt. Her hand went to the doorknob and she opened the door. The teenager stood with taunting confidence on her doorstep, leering at her just as she had expected. "You are not welcome at my house, Jackson. After what you did to me, I should -"

"Let me in, Mrs. Evans," Jackson said loudly so that his voice echoed back off his house across the street.

She looked around the street, but it was empty. "I'll only let you in if you promise..." Margaret's gaze dropped down to Jackson's shorts. She knew he could see her staring, but she couldn't pull her eyes away. Now she was the one with roving eyes. Or rather, they were fixed in the wrong place.

"Whatever you want. I promise." Jackson pushed past her into the front hall and closed the front door behind him. Margaret stood next to him with a slack-jawed expression. Usually she looked so haughty. Now she just looked stupid. "So, my mom wanted me to come over today and pick up where we left off over at my house."

"Your mother sent that thing to my house?" Margaret pointed at his shorts. "I thought she was a respectable woman. How could she?"

"You told her that she ran a brothel." Jackson lowered his shorts and underwear and stepped out of them. His rigid dick swung out into the open. It was quite ready for his neighbor. "You've always been mean to her. Not anymore, Mrs. Evans." Jackson pulled his t-shirt off and tossed it at one of the photographs on a side table. It landed on a framed photo of Margaret and her husband on vacation. Their unknowing, frozen smiles disappeared under the t-shirt.

"If I do this... I'm no better than a... rutting pig." But even as she said it, her trembling knees gave and she lowered herself to a kneeling position in front of the eighteen-year-old monster. She knew this was a position of servitude. She was serving the boy.

"You probably think I'm going to say 'oink, oink', or something, Mrs. Evans. But the Burtons are better than that." Jackson wondered at the way he talked to her. This was a woman he used to cross the street to avoid. Her tirades against his mother had frightened him. She had always seemed in a different league than the Burtons. But now, she was in his league, and it turns out, she wasn't even a contender for the divisional title. "Give me a blowjob, please."

"Oh, God." Margaret's fingers shook as she reached out and held the veiny thing. Her wedding ring, worth more than Lucy Burton's stupid car, probably, now touched Lucy's son's vile cock. "If I do this, will you go home and never come back?" She looked up at him with pleading eyes.

"Well, sure. But then you'd have to come over to my house when I ask. Deal?" Jackson knew he was pushing her, but he didn't think she would break. She would just keep bending and bending until his dick was deep inside her. He could see the need in her eyes.

"No," Margaret whispered. And then she leaned forward and took him into her mouth. Her ears were filled with the sounds of a slut slurping in her front hall. Her cheeks burned with the knowledge that the slut was her. Maybe she should have been nicer to Lucy Burton. Maybe if she had been more neighborly, Lucy wouldn't have set her son on Margaret. Maybe Margaret wouldn't have turned into a cock hungry whore. But here she was, her head bobbing on teenage dick, and all she could think was the only thing better would be for Jackson to put out the fire between her legs.

"I... ugh... know what you're thinking... Mrs. Evans." Jackson cupped the back of her head. He liked her with her hair up. It brought out her high, feminine cheekbones. Come to think of it, he enjoyed her whole outfit. How many times had he watched ladies in their yoga pants. Now he could have any of them. All of them. Goodness, the realization hit him as he built to his orgasm. He could have any woman. And he wanted them all. "I know... what you're thinking. And I will put it in your pussy. But... ugh... first... I want to cum all over your face."

"Mmmmppppphhhhh?" Margaret didn't want that. Of all the degrading things he could do, that certainly had to be the worst. She felt him pulling on the back of her hair and his penis flopped out of her mouth. A long strand of saliva connected her lips to that bulging head. She sat passively and waited.

"Don't just sit there. Pump it, Mrs. Evans."

"You want me to...?" Margaret's hands jacked up and down the long shaft. Slowly at first, but then faster and faster. The thing was slick with her spit and his precum. The only thing worse than offering up her face to his effluence was him making her participate in her own defilement. "If you're going to disgrace me like this, do it quickly." She worked him harder, her thin bare arms fatiguing with the effort.

"Right." Jackson looked down at her with a wide smile. He was going to have so much fun with his neighbor. "Here... it... cums... aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh." His cum arced out over the space between his dick and her upturned face and splattered on her perfect skin.

"Ooooohhhhhhh." Margaret was surprised to find that on top of the expected disgust, she felt excited. Her eyes blinked and closed, and she spluttered a little as the stuff fell into her open mouth. The salty warmth covered her forehead, nose, cheeks, and chin. It then dribbled down her neck and her exposed upper chest. She knew that, at least for the moment, she was no longer her husband's woman. She would give this teenager whatever he wanted. He had marked her.

An hour later, she found herself naked on her hands and knees like the rutting pig she had feared she was. Her neighbor was behind her, slamming into her vagina from behind with force. She could hear the slap of his hips on her butt. She could feel his heavy balls bouncing off the backs of her thighs with each lunge. They were in her bedroom walk-in closet, in front of the full-length mirror. Jackson had asked about a mirror, and this was the first place she'd thought of. Apparently, he'd wanted her to look at her own face as he dug out her deepest secrets. And that's what Margaret was doing. He held her bun in his hand, pulling her head upright. Margaret couldn't believe the woman looking back in the mirror was her. This woman had vile sperm on her face and hair. Her mouth formed a rictus of ecstasy, and her eyes seemed to swim in distant waters. Her heavy boobs flopped around under her. Maybe a pig wasn't the correct metaphor for what she'd become. Maybe she was a cow. Her voice came out of her in a steady whine, not unlike a high-pitched moo.

"Where... ah... ah... ah... do you want it?" Jackson felt so connected to this woman at the moment. How strange that a week ago, she was yelling at his mom about dog poop, and now he wanted to stay inside her forever. He hoped she'd ask for him to fill her up.

"Oooooooooooooo." Margaret tried to tell him to put it outside her. Anywhere outside her vagina would do. She'd even take it on her face again. But she couldn't get the words out.

"What's that... ugh... mean?"

"Oooooooooooooo." Margaret seemed to be in a constant state of orgasm. Was such a thing possible? Her fogged brain tried again to form words, but all the crazed woman in the mirror could do as Margaret watched was take the punishment the teenager doled out and whine.

"Gonna... cum..." Jackson let it out inside her. His pleasure all the more intense as her pussy clamped down on his dick, milking him over and over. He heard her scream as he filled her. No words, just a wild, lost call for togetherness.

When he'd recovered some, Jackson guided her out of her walk-in closet and onto the bed she shared with her husband. He placed her on her back and knelt between her legs. He admired her thick copper bush, and looked down at her splayed pussy lips. Her poor pussy gaped, and cum ran out of it in a steady stream. "You've got a new pussy now, Mrs. Evans." He stuck two fingers in her and felt how loose she'd become. He pumped her with his fingers for a few minutes, enjoying the mystified expression on her face and the squelching sounds her pussy made. He then climbed up on top of her, slid his dick back inside, and put his hands on her heavy boobs. He pushed himself up so he could watch all of her as he plowed away.

"Again?" Margaret was beside herself. The first time they'd done it, he had cum once inside her. But that wasn't enough for him this time. "Again? Again? Again? Again?" she chanted, until her words flowed together and everything else was unintelligible. Her poor headboard banged against the wall like it had never done with her husband. She was afraid they'd punch a hole in the drywall. To her horror, she lost herself in pleasure again, and when he readied himself for another ejaculation, she whined encouragement at him and held her feet high in the air to allow him the best possible access to her womb.

But Jackson didn't stop there. After his orgasm, he pulled her on top of him and had her ride him for a good long while.

Margaret's hips moved with a herky-jerky awkwardness at first, but then her body found its own hidden beat and soon she was smoothly bouncing on that great pole, her body moving in ways she hadn't known it could. She whined her way right though his orgasm and then fell on the bed next to the young man, huffing and puffing. "You have to... leave, Jackson." She turned her head and looked over at the skinny brute. "And you can't come back here." She rolled on her side away from him, her bed groaned under her. They must have broken her bed frame with their wild movements. She could feel his stuff sliding out her and drenching the sheets below. How would she explain her bed to her husband?

"Yeah, I'll go." Jackson felt great. He swung his legs off the side of the bed and stood up. "I won't come back. But you can come over to my house anytime, Mrs. Evans." He dressed slowly, all his muscles tingling with afterglow.

"Never." Margaret lay perfectly still until he'd gone. She didn't even say goodbye to Jackson. He was crazy if he thought she'd come calling like a common trollop.

~~

Humming to herself, Lucy walked down the upstairs hallway with a basket of fresh laundry. She stopped by the bathroom and looked in. "Messy one today, huh?" Inside, Lucy saw her daughter naked with her legs spread. Violet was toweling off her vagina. "That looks awkward, let me help."

"I don't need help, Mom." But Violet watched her sweet mother put down her basket in the hall, step into the bathroom, and take the towel from her. "This is so weird."

"He makes a mess all over me, too." Lucy carefully dabbed the towel and gently wiped Violet's pale thighs. She then moved the towel up over Violet's stomach and removed the sperm splattered there.

"Um... Mom?"

"Yes, sweetie?" Lucy was engrossed in the cleaning. She didn't want her professional daughter going back to work in her room covered in messy stuff.

"Have you been using any sort of protection?" Violet couldn't stop thinking about her conversation with Claire. Would babies really be good for science? Did she want to find out?

"I tried, but your brother's so insistent." Lucy tsked at a spot of dried sperm on Violet's hip that didn't want to come off. "I've just been keeping track of my cycle," she lied. She couldn't tell Violet that she couldn't say no to Jackson on her dangerous days and he'd been filling her up regardless.

"Oh. But how safe is that, really?" Violet heard the doorbell.

"Well, that'll probably be for Jackson." Lucy finished her cleaning. She heard Jackson thump eagerly down the stairs.

"Hello, Mrs. Evans." Jackson's exuberant voice carried up from the front door.

"Well, that will keep your brother busy for a while." Lucy tried to listen, but Margaret must have been whispering because she couldn't hear the woman speak. "You're all clean." Lucy took the towel to put in the dirty laundry, stepped back into the hall, and picked up her laundry basket. "I'm going to go fold laundry, what are you up to this afternoon?"

"Oh..." Violet could hear the slap of skin echoing up from downstairs. They were already going at it. She grabbed fresh panties and pulled them on. "I'm going to do some genomic modeling."

"Sounds good." Lucy rolled her eyes. She didn't have the faintest idea what her daughter was talking about. "Have fun." Lucy hummed to herself and walked on down the hall toward her room. She could hear Margaret's constant, high-pitched whine pair with Jackson's grunts from downstairs as she folded laundry.

Chapter 11

"You're just about the most useless husband in the whole world." Lucy frowned at Delmore, knowing full well that even if she got him out of his clothes, he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction she now craved. "Don't I do it for you anymore?" She stuck out her hip and flaunted the sexy lingerie she'd bought to spice up her marriage. The lacy bra and panties didn't leave much to the imagination.

"You look great, dear." Delmore looked up from his coffee. "But I'm off to work in a minute. I have a lot of responsibility now, you know."

"I know." Lucy sighed.

"Anyway, it's odd doing it in the morning, isn't it?" Delmore put a lid on his coffee and picked up his briefcase. "We should do it at night, like normal couples."

"That's the problem, Delmore. We don't do it at all."

"Well, that'll change tonight." He walked to the garage door. "I'll be home late. Stay up for me and we can have some romantic time. And you shouldn't walk around the house in those clothes, dear. Think of how embarrassed you'd be if our son saw you. Good bye." With a curt nod, he opened the door and left before Lucy could tell him that their son was very much going to see her wearing the lingerie. And she wasn't going to be the least embarrassed. Lucy raced up to Jackson's room.

~~

"I... ugh... can't help myself." Lucy's fancy panties rested around her right ankle, but her lacy bra had survived her son's pawing and still covered her breasts. She rode Jackson with a gusto, her boobs bobbing inside the bra in unison. "So... deep."

"Hey, Mom?" Jackson looked up into her pretty blue eyes and saw them regain some focus. She kept her hips bouncing, but looked down at him. He felt her nails dig into his chest. "Wanna hear something cool?" He smiled with the bliss of total abandon. Nothing could contain him now.

"What?" Lucy screwed up her face. What "cool" thing could he want to tell her in the middle of that ecstasy? She tried to remember what he'd been like before his accident with Violet's serum. What would he have told her then? Some new video game, maybe? Some fact about space? Of course, before the accident she wouldn't have been riding her son like she'd just started the Kentucky Derby. "What is it... oooohhhhhh... Jackie?"

"I think I... uh... uh... uh..." He lost his focus as his mom's pussy clamped down on his dick. He could feel how tight she sheathed his dick with every downstroke, practically popping over his wide, sensitive head. "... I... knocked up Mrs. Evans."

"Oh... God. Really?" The revelation heightened everything. Sparks flew before Lucy's eyes. "That... stuck up... woman... pregnant? By you? Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh." Her hips stopped. Soon, her whole body writhed as the orgasm overtook her. When it was over, she looked down at Jackson's handsome face and smiled. "It was probably... Mr. Evans... that gave her... the baby." Her hips rocked on his in a slow, undulating motion.

"I asked her that." Jackson's face was suddenly serious. "She said it couldn't have been his because she... you know." His face went a bit red. How odd it was to feel embarrassed talking about someone else's sex life when at that moment he had his giant dick embedded in his mom's belly. But some social conditioning was strong, Jackson reckoned.