This story is semi-autobiographical. I have taken the usual writer's liberties with the situation and the sexual acts. Besides, it's hard to remember the details when you're high out of your mind!
*****
Forty-five-year-old Carl Krone was higher than he had ever been. It was not so much the drinks after his weekly golf game with his buddies. Although he had several. It was the very potent reefer Jimmy Adams and he smoked in the car on the drive home. It was the most potent weed he had in years.
He touched the pocket of his shorts where he had the rolled joint Jimmy gave him. He could not wait to share it with his wife Hazel. In college and later after they married, they loved to get high and fuck. She was an animal under the influence of cannabis. A real three-hole slut!
As he dropped his clubs in the closet just off the garage door, the scrumptious aroma of frying chicken assaulted his nose. He realized that in addition to be high, he had a case of the munchies. He followed the aroma like bloodhound on a trail, his nose twitching.
When he exited the short hall, his 65-year-old mother in law, Sarah Crump stood over the stove turning the chicken. Her thick legs were bare; her feet encased in cloth slippers. Her signature flowered knee length cotton robe stretched tightly across her broad hips. One long braid of grey hair hung over her shoulder resting on her enormous breasts.
His addled brain momentarily cleared. He had forgotten she was spending the weekend while her husband tended to family business out of town. It was of no consequence. He had a good relationship with his in laws.
"Hello mother," he said, waving airily.
"Carl!" she said with mild surprise. "Hazel said you would be gone most of the day."
"Would have been," he slurred, "but they closed the course because of lightening warnings. So, we had a couple of drinks and called it a day. Where's Hazel?"
As Carl strode carefully into the kitchen, Sarah's nose wrinkled as it detected the familiar scent of cannabis. She smiled. She and her Jim toked. In fact, it was one of the things they did to add spice to their dwindling sex life.
She picked up her wine glass and took a sip. It was her second of the afternoon. She felt relaxed with a definite buzz.
"She's next door having coffee with Kitty Hamilton. The chicken will be ready in a minute. There is potato salad in the fridge if you can't wait."
She gave her son in law a wink and a knowing smile.
Even Carl's addlepated brain figured out she could smell the reefer in his clothes.
"OOPS! Sorry about that! Jimmy had some in the car, we toked and..."
Sarah held her hand up and waved him off. "Look, son, I was doing weed before you were born. Jim and I still toke when we can get it."
Carl ruefully shook his head. His in laws were not typical. They were tolerant. He recalled last night when he and Hazel, thinking she was up in her bedroom sleep, got busy down in the family room. Unable to sleep, Sarah came down to watch television and caught them 69ing. All she said was "Oops! My bad!" and left giggling.
Carl fumbled in his pocket, retrieved the doobie and handed it to her. "I need a shower. However, if you care to indulge..."
Sarah stared for a moment. She shrugged. "What the hell. Why not!" She took the proffered joint. She watched her son in law carefully climbed the stairs.
The boy's got a cute ass, she thought.
Carl stroked his cock as he stood in the tiled walk in Kohler shower letting the steaming hot water cascade over his body. He thought about Sarah catching he and Hazel 69ing. It fed into one of he and Hazel's fantasies of being exhibitionist.
They were both deep into it, relishing the privacy they had since the twins were gone. They were both naked. Hazel lay on one side with her knee bent and her foot flat on the floor. Her leg formed a cradle he could lay his head in while licking his wife's pussy. Last night, he was sucking her clit with an index finger in her ass while his thumb was in her pussy. Hazel's guttural groans filled the room as he rocked his fingers back and forth, simultaneously fucking her anus and her pussy.
Hazel lay in a similar cradle formed by his legs. She languidly sucked his cock while her finger probed deep in his anus massaging his prostate gland. He thought he heard a sound but was too far gone to care. They could spend hours pleasuring each other this way. Each time one of them got close to cumming, the other would slow down. When they finally came, it was explosive and together.
In their younger days, before they had the twins, they fantasized about inviting someone into their marriage bed. They even joined a few swingers web sites. Those fantasies were put on the backburner when the exigencies of raising two rambunctious kids filled their scarce free time.
With them away at school, their sex life was improving. They were even again discussing inviting someone else into their marriage bed. Carl sighed, turned off the shower and stepped out. He took a towel from the warmer and dried off. He smiled as his cock bobbed when he dried around his shaved balls. Shaving each other was part of their new-found sexuality. Carl pulled a white knee length terry cloth robe from the warmer and slipped it on.
As he walked back into the kitchen, Sarah was bent over the kitchen table placing the platter of hot fried chicken on the kitchen table. The top of her cloth robe gaped open, revealing her humongous tits. An image of his cock sliding in the valley between her mountainous mammaries flashed in his mind
"They are just jugs, boy! Stop staring and come eat."
The smell of fried chicken competed with the sweetish odor of marijuana hanging in the kitchen. Carl felt the heat rise in his face.
"Sorry, mother! I'm still high and..."
"And horny! I know the feeling! That is some kick ass doobie!"
Laughing, he slid into a chair across from Sarah and loaded his plate with hot chicken and cold potato salad. Ravenous, they talked with their mouths full as they scarfed the food down.
Warm from standing over the stove, Sarah undid the top button of her housecoat. It fell open revealing a cleavage that rivaled the Grand Canyon. The unintentional tease mesmerized Carl.
"Gawddamit Carl! Stop staring at these old jugs and eat! You have seen tits before. My daughter has a nice set."
Carl's jaw looked like a chipmunk with its cheek full of acorns. One cheek bulged with food while he talked out of the other side. Chicken grease and potato salad dribbled out of his mouth.
"Sorry mother! Hazel's tits are nowhere near your size." He stopped chewing and looked across the table at his mother in law. He pointed with a gnawed chicken leg. "What...uh...what size are they anyway?"
Sarah stopped chewing with a spoon of potato salad halfway on its journey to her full mouth. "They are 44E," she mumbled around a mouthful of food. "Breastfeeding three kids and a husband made them and my nipples big."
Somewhere in their subconscious, in that part that acts as brake on untoward activity, an alarm went off. Its volume and import were dulled by the drinks Carl had at the golf course, Sarah's two glasses of wine and the potent reefer.
"Hazel has big nipples too."
Even as he shoveled the food in, Carl's cock hardened. Under the table, the head pushed through the opening in his robe. He recalled fucking his wife's breasts, his tool slipping effortlessly through her oiled cleavage.
