The Big Boy Roller Coaster
Hazelton, PA. August 1983
"Please, can I stay?"
"Go back to your husband, Mom," I replied.
"I don't want to," my mother said as she toyed with the buttons of her jean shirt. Three out of five were already undone.
"Why'd you leave him this time? What'd he do?" I tried and failed to look away.
"He didn't do anything. That's the thing, he's just so fucking
booorinnnggg.
" Mom was forty-four, but I knew this wasn't some kind of mid-life crisis, because Mom never really grew up.'
"Does he know you're here?" I asked, referring to Roland, her third husband, an insurance salesman in Punxsutawney.
"No," she replied.
I manoeuvred around the kitchen so the narrow island was between us. Of course, when Mom appeared at the door of Mrs Aberdeen's double-wide, I had to let her in. I brought her into the kitchen, which seemed to be the safest room in the house.
"Does he know where I live?" I asked.
Given the unusually close nature of our family, Roland would probably figure out where Mom'd gone. The last thing I needed was an irate husband making a scene on my boss's doorstep.
"No, he never asks about you. Come on, let me stay, just for a few days," Mom pleaded. She leaned over the counter on her elbows and pushed her tits together.
Somehow she'd popped button four, and I could see her lightly browned mounds swelling out of a cream-colored bra. I backed away a short distance and leaned against the sink.
"Jesus, Mom! This isn't my house, and I'm not supposed to have any guests while Mrs Aberdeen is away. You can have a beer, then you should go home."
I never should've told Mom about Mrs Aberdeen going to England for a month, but Mom asked me to come visit her, and I needed to give her a reason why I couldn't. I took a couple of beers from the fridge and when I turned around, she'd completely unbuttoned her shirt and popped her tits out of the stiff cups of her bra.
"Now can I stay?" She gave me a big grin.
"Mom!" I objected.
Mom had great tits, and it's not like I wasn't attracted, but she was married again, and I was hoping to put all that behind me and start a new life. The last time I'd seen her was five months ago when I went to Punxsutawney for her birthday. Roland was all over her then, and she seemed happy.
Mom gave her boobs a shake. "Come on, Jimmy, just a week?" Of course she knew how to push my buttons, she was my mother after all.
I was still on the far side of the counter, a sweating beer in each hand. "A week? I told you, I can't have visitors." With difficulty, I dragged my eyes to her smirking mouth. She knew I'd weaken.
"Not even your own mother?" she pouted as she slid around the end of the counter.
"Mrs Aberdeen was very clear about it. No guests."
Mom always did this to me; she disrupted my life just when I was about to get it near normal. I had a good situation here, working as the caretaker of 'Aberdeen Mobile Home Estates' while I slowly built my landscaping business. I stopped backing away like a coward, and extended the beer towards her.
"So, don't tell her. How's she gonna know?"
Mom didn't take the beer; she stood with her hands on her hips, a five-foot-two redheaded firecracker. She could be as wild and slippery as a Sneaky Snake, or as stubborn as a mule. Now, she was planted solidly in Mrs Aberdeen kitchen with her shirt hanging open, her tits thrust out of her bra, and her jeans, low on her inviting hips.
"Somebody from the park will rat on me, guaranteed."
Mrs Aberdeen's "deluxe" canary-yellow home sat on its own plot of land outside the park. It was shielded on the park-side by an eight-foot high privacy fence, and on the other by a thick cedar hedge; still, people could see the driveway when they came in and out of the park.
Mom gave that a raspberry, took the beer from me and rubbed it against her hard nipples.
"Don't you miss me?" she pouted. Lowering her head. she looked at me through the thick wave of hair that artfully dropped over her right eye.
"Of course, I miss you, Mom.
One night,
okay? And put those away." I took a deep breath and tried to shift my hard cock in my jeans without being too obvious about it.
Mom smiled and tucked her tits back into the bra.
"Well, maybe lose the shirt," I suggested with a resigned sigh.
Hell, if I was going to take a chance at blowing my new life, I might as well have some fun. I'd get Mom up early in the morning, take her to Denny's for breakfast, and then send her on her way.
Mom grinned, shrugged out of her shirt and tossed it over her shoulder.
"Yeah, that's a good look for you." I took a step backwards.
Mom's body had matured even if her attitude hadn't. She was heavier and more hippy, although her little belly didn't look any bigger. I was positive there was extra boob crammed into her bra than the last time I'd seen her. Extra boob, and looser - 'new improved mom boob, with super jiggly wave-action!' I loved the changes so much I reached into my jeans and straightened my cock. I expected her to cozy up to me for a kiss, but she just stood there, coyly biting her lower lip.
"What is it, Mom?"
There was a rapping on the kitchen window. I looked into the darkness and barely made out a blob of a white face surrounded by a cloud of red hair.
"Jesus," I said.
"Can Trixie stay, too?" A grin spread across her face.
My half sister was already through the door and half-way across the kitchen.
"Alright, the party's started," she declared. She pulled her top over her head in one smooth, practiced motion revealing a white, heavy duty bra.
"Hey, Jimmy-boy," She shook her mane of thick unruly hair.
"Did you run out on your husband too?" I asked.
"About a week ago. He's just so goddamned
boring,
you know." Trixie smiled and held out her hand. I gave her my beer.
"Then you went to Mom's and talked her into leaving, too?" I shook my head.
Trixie lived in the suburbs of Philadelphia and was married to some guy named Chuck Pruitt who owned a used record store. She'd been married nearly two years; I was fuzzy about the details because it was a quick Las Vegas wedding and none of us were there.
"Well, you know, it was just so crowded at Mom's place with all
his
kids running around. We needed a vacation."
Trixie put an arm around Mom and they bumped hips as they took swigs from the long neck beer bottles. Mom's current husband had several kids from previous marriages; some of them still lived at home.
Trixie inherited her personality from mom, but her looks clearly came from her rouge Irish father. She was a Christie, with pearly white skin dusted with freckles, light blue eyes and long, wavy reddish-golden hair.
I didn't know Mom's exact bra size, but I did know Trixie's - when your sister is a double D you know it. Trixie was proud of her tits and not at all shy about showing them off.
When we were on tour, and Mom brought her on stage, Trixie would say "Hi, I'm Trixie, but you can call me Dee Dee!"
The crowd cheered and shouted things. Without much encouragement, Trixie'd shouldered her guitar and opened, or lifted whatever she wore, thrust her chest out and smile. The crowds loved it. Sometimes, girls in the audience would flash her back. I liked that part.
It had been a long time since I'd had a threesome with my Mom and Trixie. They weren't going to be denied their bit of fun, and I wasn't in the mood to stop them, but I hoped if I kept my wits about me, I could still limit the damage.
I was playing a dangerous game. Maybe Mom and Trixie were just out to blow off some steam, or maybe they felt a more serious itch. The last time they busted loose, it ended with the dissolution of our rock band 'Trixx', and the family scattered to the four winds.
I shook my head and tried to look stern as I got myself another beer from the fridge. "That's what you get for marrying older men."
When I turned around, they'd wandered out of the kitchen into the living room.
"That's why we need some serious stud time, Jimmy-boy," Trixie said over her shoulder.
"This looks comfy, should be a great place to kick back for a week or two," Mom said as I followed them.
"Two nights, that's all," I objected. "I've got work to do around here. I can't just drop everything and entertain you two."
"That bitch boss of yours has really got you wound tight, baby. We didn't get here a moment too soon." Mom set her empty beer-bottle on the coffee table and came to me. She pushed her way into my arms and encircled me with her own.
She ground her boobs into my stomach and tilted her chin up. "Come on, give Mommy a kiss."
I wrapped one arm around her waist and the other over her shoulders and squeezed. I brushed her lips with mine, and teased, the way she liked it.
"Fuck, Mom, oh fuck," was all I could say.
She pressed her lips harder against mine. The tip of her tongue slid along my lips and darted in and out.
"We can help out," her eyelids drooped she looked into mine. "Come on, we'll help out during the day and we can party at night - just three nights."
I felt Trixie's lips on the back of my neck and her big boobs pressing against me.
"You can be the boss," she said in a low, sexy chuckle.
"When have you guys
ever