Tales From the Club: Mom's Gift

This is a direct follow-on from "Tales From the Club: Mom Wins." While there are references to people and events in some of my earlier stories, those stories do not need to be read to appreciate what is going on in this one. However, if you like this story there is a good chance that you will enjoy the other entries in my New Xanadu and Tales from the Club series.

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Mom and I were lying in her bed after our first bout of love making on this, the fourth night that we had spent as loves. This was six Mondays after she had first seduced me.

After Mom had talked me past the incest taboo thing, we had settled into a bit of a routine. I'd show up on a Monday after work, Mom would greet me in her latest sexy lingerie, and we'd chat a bit over margaritas. (Two for her, one for me. From our first Monday I knew that two or three drinks did not impair Mom's performance, but I was the one who was going to have to keep it up.) After that she'd stand me up, slowly strip off my clothes, sink to her knees and tease my cock with her mouth until I was hard, then ask if I'd rather use my old bedroom or hers. Mostly we ended up in hers, not because I got a bigger kick out of using the same bed where Mom and Dad had sex, but to save the trip up the stairs to my old bedroom.

The missed Mondays began after week two, when Mon said she thought that my Dad was might have been acting a little weird about me having her every Monday. "Maybe he's a little jealous. I don't know why. I haven't been jealous about him buggering your sister whenever he wants to." But being a guy, I knew that guys could be strange that way, so I had no problem when Mom suggested that we change to every other Monday. While sex with Mom was special on a level all its own, every other Monday worked for me. I still had our ex-SAA orgies at Martha's and Mary's on weekends, occasional nights with Joan and Cindy, and more sex than I could ever handle was on offer at New Xanadu 2. I'm a sex addict, but I'm not Superman.

Tonight, after we'd sipped and stripped and sucked and had a nice, 95% slow loving fuck until Mom got close and suddenly bolted toward her very loud and vigorous orgasm. After, lay panting and cuddling, Mom licking and nibbling on my nipple, until she stopped to say "I had a chat with your little friend, Cindy, at the club on Friday night."

The stiffening in my cock that had been building under Mom's nipple nibbling disappeared. Cindy had been my "date" on the opening night of our sex club, New Xanadu 2. I first discovered that my parents were swingers when they showed up there that night. As Cindy and I watched form the doorway to the main room, Mom put on a display of truly superlative cocksucking skills. My reaction alerted Cindy to the fact that there was some connection between the me and the lady with the dick in her mouth. After Cindy had drained my balls while Mom was getting her own mouthful, she hit me with that.

What's a guy to do? I wasn't about to out my Mom, so I made up a story about a teenage crush on one of my teachers, and told her that's who we'd been watching. All true, except implying that the lady who we had been watching was that teacher, not my Mom. Now Mom and Cindy were talking. What the fuck. I hoped that Mom had not spilled any beans.

"And what did you and Cindy talk about Mom?"

"Well, first she complimented me on what she called my 'really terrific oral skills,' and said that watching me had inspired her to try to get better with hers. Then she mentioned that the first time she'd seen me at the club she was with her boyfriend..."

Mom must have noticed something. Maybe I was holding my breath or my muscles had tensed up. She broke the story, gave we a kiss and said, "Don't worry sweetie. This comes out okay."

Since she needed her mouth for talking, Mom began fondling my dick as she resumed her story. "Anyway, like I said, she said that she was with her boyfriend that night and that he said he knew me from when he was one of my students in high school. Do tell, I said. And did he say whether this crush ever went anywhere? 'Oh, no,' she says. 'My boyfriend said that one of his classmates had made a pass at that teacher but that she'd shot him down so hard that the others we afraid to try anything.' Are we on track so far, sweetie?"

"Yes, Mom. Please go on, and with your hand, too."

"That's a very discreet young girl you have, John. She never said your name, just 'my boyfriend,' the whole time we talked, which wasn't much longer. She told me that the real reason she had wanted to talk to me was that on that night the club opened you'd let her go wild, and that she'd had her first sex with a woman that night and she'd like that, and she was wondering if I might be interested in spending some time with her upstairs. Well, while given a choice I'll go for cock every time, I've had and been had by more than a few women over the years, and I wanted to get to know this one better since she was my son's girlfriend. Upstairs we went."

"And?" I said. "Please hurry up. I need your mouth to be somewhere else."

"Oh, of course sweetie. There's not much more to tell. She's a sweet girl, gentle and enthusiastic as well as discreet. Clearly she needs someone to teach her the finer points of eating pussy, but I'm not the teacher for that."

I snorted my frustration. Between Mom's handjob and my mental vision of Mom and Cindy with their heads buried between the other's thighs, I was getting very aroused.

She noticed. "Oh, hold your horses son, Mommy will be right there. Anyway, there wasn't much talk afterwards, and none of it was about you."

With that Mom scooted down the bed and wrapped her lips around my now steel-hard cock. She really is the best, you know, and I don't say that because she's my Mom. As a sex addict I've had a lot of blowjobs, some frankly pretty bad, some excellent, many just so-so. But Mom had them all beat. A lot of women seem to think that the object of a blowjob is to get the guy off - the quicker the better for those women who don't really enjoy giving head - and they go at it with a kind of mechanical determination to get the job done, which might eventually even get the guy off in spite of their poor technique. But Mom had figured out that the real object of a blow job was to give the guy pleasure, the more and longer the better, and that if she made the guy feel enough of that, his blowing his load would just come (so to speak) naturally - often bigger and better than he'd ever dreamed possible.

So Mom licked and nibbled and sucked until I nearly went over the top. And stopped. And then she started again. We'd played this game enough that I appreciated her prolonging it, but after two more stops and starts I couldn't take any more. I held Mom's head, pushed my dick as far into her mouth as she'd take it, and shot a huge load of cum down her throat.

Mom squeezed one more pearly glob onto her tongue, then scooted back up be bed and gave me a big, deep kiss. She had told me on our first night together that any guy who expected her to take his load in her mouth and wasn't willing to take some of it back in his wasn't worth fooling with. For someone who liked to spend so much time on her knees, Mom was a pretty strong-willed woman. Happily, I'd always felt that "what goes around comes around" was only fair, and the taste of my own semen had never been a problem for me. Plus Mom was as good a kisser as he was a fellatrix.

"I need to pee, sweetie, and I think I'd like another margarita. Can I bring you anything?"

"Just some water please, Mom. And I could stand to pee, too."

When we got back in bed, Mom had already finished part of her drink. She settled cross-legged at the foot of the bed, giving me a glorious view of her cunt, its lips still swollen from our first fuck of the night. I started to stiffen without the aid of more than the view.

"Sweetie, about that teacher that Cindy mentioned, that was all true, wasn't it?"

"Yes, Mom. As far as I know. I'm pretty sure that after that first guy tried and failed, none of the rest of us tried it. I certainly never did."

"And that teacher's name was Mrs. Williams, wasn't it sweetie."

"How did you know, Mom?"

"Well she was one of your teaches in 12

th

grade. She was a knockout back then; I can see why horny students lusted after her. She's only about five years younger than me. We'd bump into each other at the store and beauty parlor and such, on top of you being her student leading to parent-teacher conferences. After awhile we got to visiting each other for coffee and we'd talk some about her work."

"Did you ever talk about me."

"God, what egotists you guys are. As a matter of fact, no. At least not directly. But one day she did tell me how hard it was to teach guys less than ten years younger than she was, what with all the testosterone and pheromones flying around. And she told me about that kid who hit on her and how hard it was to turn him down, because as she put it, 'he was quite a hunk.' But she knew enough not to get involved with a student even if he was over the age of consent. They might not put her in jail, but she'd sure lose her job and maybe not be able to get another one."

"You and Dad weren't by any chance swinging with her, were you?"

"No, we never did. We both wouldn't have minded it with her, but Mr. Williams was a real dickhead, and we just didn't want her badly enough to have anything to do with him."

As mom talked, she started fingering her cunt, which caused me to start massaging my dick. At this point we here both getting ready for another go. I could see the color rising on her chest, her rock-hard nipples, and I could hear the increasing juiciness of her cunt. I was completely hard and ready to go. I slid down on the bed and gave Mom a finger curl sign to come on up.

Instead of lying down beside, Mom straddled me. This was not surprising; I'd found that she liked cowgirl. Nor was I surprised when instead of guiding my dick into her cunt, she placed it against her rosebud. Mom has gotten me into her ass at least once each time we've screwed. She'd had plenty of anal long before we got together, and plenty of juices from our first fucking had rolled down across her anus. Or maybe she'd lubed up a little in the kitchen. Whatever had greased her up, as she settled my cock slid into her ass with no trouble at all.

Once she was fully impaled, Mom said, "Sweetie, I have a favor to ask."

This was the first time Mom had ever asked me for anything since I'd left home - beyond wanting me to get over my incest hangup, that is. The possibilities raised by her wanting me to do something even more extreme than screwing my own mother, in the ass no less, were more than I wanted to think about. So I thought instead, this is my Mom, we love each other, I should trust her, right?

"Okay Mom, what is it that I can do for you that we haven't already done?"

"Well sweetie, I want you to make love to Mrs. Williams. Would you do that for me?"

That one I wasn't ready for. But whatever the surprise, it didn't seem to have any effect on my cock, which remained rock hard.

"What?. Are you trying to get rid of me already. Or has she done something to piss you off, or do you want to put horns on Mr. Williams for being a dickhead?

"Oh, not at all, sweetie. I certainly don't want to get rid of you. I love you dearly, and you're a good lay. It's just that I think she may need you more than I do at the moment, so I'm willing to share. Like I said, over the years we became friends. That can be closer than lovers and much more than fuck-buddies, in case you haven't had the fortune to find that out yet.. Well, six months ago Mr. Dickhead Williams decided to dump her for some 18-year old, and she's been miserable ever since. She's starting to let herself go, which is a waste, because she's still a beautiful woman. But now she's started to go downhill mentally and emotionally, which is a bigger waste, because she's a beautiful human being. I'm pretty sure she's not bi, or I'd try it myself. So I'm hoping that a wonderful man making wonderful love to her will get her back on track?

"Maybe she needs a shrink Mom. Sex might not be the answer."

Mom had this way of clenching her anal sphincter, and whenever I interrupted the flow of her conversation, after which she'd rise up and slam herself down on my cock. This way, even though my big head was on Mrs. William, she made sure that my little head was still in the other game.

"Well, sweetie. Shrinks are slow and they're expensive, and for a lot of people there's still a stigma associated with seeing one. If you can't get her head on straight, she could always go that route later.

"Okkaaay. But why me? Why not Dad."

Mom leaned forward, careful not to let me fall out of her ass, and took my face between her hands. Looking straight int my eyes, she said. "I have nothing bad to say about your Dad, in this or anything else. But you are the most empathetic person I have ever known. More than that, you're a legend among some of the ladies at the club - Susan, Joan, Mary, even that woman who outbid me so that you could be her daughter's first. They say you're kind, John, apparently especially to women. The word is that you see women as people, not as sex objects. You like them and what's more important, you respect them. If you're not what Mrs. Williams needs, maybe she does need a shrink."

She leaned back and gave me a few more squeezes with her sphincter and with a smirk said. "Oh, yeah, and they all agree you're a good lay too. Now be quiet while I take care of the business at hand. Play with my tits and leave the rest to me."

Mom started to move as I fondled her breasts and her hand found its way into her cunt. I pinched on her nipples the way she liked it, just a little pain, and watched her face as it reddened and started to go puffy. Soon she was gasping and crying out, "Oh, God," and "That's so good," and "Harder." Her jaw clenched, her lips pulled back, and she screamed as a huge orgasm hit her. Mine exploded a split second later.

She fell onto my chest and we lay like that, panting, for a little while. Then she rolled off of me and said, "God, you are wonderful, sweetie. Maybe I'm crazy to be sending you to another woman. But it still seems like the right thing to do for a friend in need."

She reached over for the remains of her drink and drained it in a gulp, which gave me a moment to collect what remained of my wits.

"Um, Mom, have you discussed this with Mrs. Williams? What if she doesn't want some strange man in her bed right now?"

"Well, actually, sweetie, no I haven't. I figured that I should talk to you first before I did anything that might get her hopes up and then dash them if you refused. And if you say yes and she says no, well, it's lady's choice as usual. But as a friend I think I owe it to Katherine - that's he name by the way, with a K, and not Kathy - to give it a try."

"And what about me, Mom. I'm not complaining, but I've got a pretty full plate already. At some point there may not be enough of me to go around."

"I know that sweetie. You're a good worker, a good father to Little John, a great planner to have come up with your sex club, and a great friend to a lot of women, including your poor old Mom. I'm willing to make a sacrifice here as a gift for my friend. If Katherine goes for this, she can have you for my next two Mondays.

"I'm generous to my friends, but in five weeks, if not sooner, I want to have you back in my bed and inside me. If you manage to jump start Katherine's engine and she wants more of you beyond that, it'll be on her own time after a month from now. Maybe some other night if you can fit her into your busy schedule. Or maybe at the club. I'd be happy to take her there as a guest. But after that month I want my Mondays with you back.

Mom was being terribly serious at this point. Not a trace of her earlier playfulness or, for that matter, the margaritas that she'd had. I needed to lighten things up, so I pulled her to me and kissed her, gently. Still holding her I said, "Do you ever wonder where I got that empathy that you were raving about? Sure, Mom, I'd be honored to be your gift to your friend. But never for a moment believe that I'd rather be in anyone but you. I love you. That's not something I've ever told another woman, except Gloria, which turned out to be a mistake, and I got over that."

Mom gave me another kiss back, as gentle and lingering as the one I'd given her. "I know you do, sweetie. Now let's get a shower and get out out of here. I know you have to go to work in the morning."

As I was getting dressed after our shower (on more blowjob, moved along quickly when Mom slid a couple of fingers into my ass), I asked, "So how are you going to work this, Mom?"

"How about you show up here straight from work tomorrow. I'll have talked to Katherine to tell her you're coming over with a message from me?"

"Won't Dad be home?" I asked, my unease showing.

"I expect so. But it shouldn't be as awkward as you seem to fear. Your Dad knows what's going on and he's cool with it. Sooner or later you two are going to run into each other, so why not here in the privacy of our home where you can work out any kinks."

***

That all sounded good, but I can't say I had a particularly restful night. Still, work was work, providing of a comforting distraction. At 5:45 that evening I presented myself on my parents' doorstep, rang the bell, and was greeted by my father.

"Come on in son," he said, and after the door was closed behind me he gave me a big hug. "I want you to know that you've been making you mother very happy, and what makes her happy makes me happy. We've discussed it, her and I, quite a lot. In case you were wondering, we've agreed that your times together are your thing and hers. It's never going to become a threesome with me. So, enjoy yourselves - carefully, of course."

As easy as that. What could I say except, "Thanks Dad."

"Now, I believe your Mom has something she wants you to do for her. Again none of my business, she tells me, so I'll let you two get on with it. She's in the kitchen.

I headed on into the kitchen where I found mom drinking a cup of hot green tea. She'd poured another for me. Maybe it was prudish of me, but I was happy to see it wasn't another pitcher of margaritas. Booze had flowed pretty well in our Monday night debauches, and at the back of my mind had been the niggling question of whether my mother was a closet alcoholic.

I began to wonder if, in addition to all her other sterling qualities, Mom was psychic when she looked up and said, "No, sweetie, you mother is not a lush. I just figured that a little likker might help make jumping that fence quicker, so to speak. Beyond that, I do like the occasional margarita. Now, close your mouth before you catch flies, sit down and drink you tea."

I didn't sit down. Instead I went around the table, put my arms around her and gave Mom a kiss, which she returned enthusiastically. When our lips unlocked I told her, "Mom, you never cease to amaze." Then I sat down and drank my tea.

While I was finishing the tea Mom said, "I talked to Katherine today. I told her I wanted to send you over this evening with a note and a gift. She wanted to know about the gift but I told her it would all be explained in the note. She agreed. You've got about an hour to shower, shave and do whatever else you want to make yourself attractive. I've laid out some clothes for you in your room that I know will fit because I got your sizes when you were here last month. I didn't get you a new coat, but what you're wearing should do. Katherine's house is only four blocks from here, so I think you should leave you car here and walk. Now, give me another kiss and get moving."