Brian Laver: More than a mother

"Well, that was interesting," Don said. "Hey, punk, did you get it off with her?"

"Yeah, sort of," Bobby said.

The older brothers laughed. The three of them headed back to their favorite hitching corner and stuck out their thumbs again. They were soon home and the whole adventure seemed like a dream. To Bobby the dream included his first taste of having his cock held in the firm grip of a cunt, and he would do everything he could to get into another as soon as possible.

Susan had met an interesting guy at a party and he asked her for her phone number, but she really didn't expect him to call her, so she was surprised when he did. They made a date to see a movie. Susan was even more surprised when she realized her reaction to having the date. All she could think about was getting fucked. When she met Sam at that party, she noticed the bulge in his pants – Susan had become an incurable crotch watcher – and if the truth be known, that's what attracted her to him.

She hadn't had a date in a few months, and after relying on her finger far sexual release for that long, she was ready to get fucked. But that wasn't the only reason. She had gone without sex for longer than that before and hadn't become the raving nympho she now was. Maybe it was getting older that was increasing her need, she thought. Or it could be the constant display of good-looking studs right in her own house that kept her horny. In any case, it was a new experience for her to crave a stiff cock with such fervor, and she sympathized with anyone who was in the same boat.

That was why she had been so concerned about Bobby. But now it seemed that he was on his way to sexual fulfillment, too. Would she be the only horny one in the house?

Susan was straightening up the house before getting ready for her date when Bobby came into the living room.

"HI, Mom. Did you see that magazine with the Porsche test report it?"

"How do I know? I don't keep track of your magazines and if you left it lying around, I probably threw it away," she yelled.

"That was a brand-new magazine," he whined. "Look, young man, I have things to do, so stay out of my hair."

Bobby stormed out of the room. Susan didn't have many occasions to yell at him like that and she felt bad about it. But now that wasn't all she was feeling. In her state of horny anticipation of her date that night, the sight of her young son filled her with passion. If he hadn't irritated her by asking about that magazine while she was trying to clean up, she would have reacted to him quite differently. Susan could picture herself walking up to her boy and taking him in her arms.

She let her imagination go, and thought bow his young, stiff prick would press into her belly. Her tits would smother him as he slid down her body to kiss her… But this wasn't getting the housework done. She was only distracting herself and getting her undies all soggy with cunt-juice.

Susan got back to work and locked the sexy daydreams out of her mind. With any luck at all, she would get laid that night, and then she might be back to normal for a while. These incestuous thoughts she was having were beginning to bother her.

When Sam showed up that evening, Susan was dressed in her sexiest outfit. She wore a tight-fitting red, silk blouse without a bra beneath to spoil the natural curve of her tits. She loved the way the silk felt on her nipples, and it kept her pink tit-caps erect and showing through the luxurious fabric. For the movies, she thought her black slacks would be right. They fit her like a coat of paint. Her firm ass was shown off to perfection and the crack of her cunt could be seen if you looked closely.

She was nervous and wished he would show up soon. She envied men for being able to pick a woman and being spared that waiting. Finally she heard a car. In another minute, Bobby was calling her from the bottom of the stairs. She paced a few more lengths of the room, took a deep breath and went downstairs.

Bobby and Sam were sitting on the couch talking. As Susan looked at the two of them, her cunt baked its fragrant juice. She didn't know which of the guys turned her on more.

Sam stood when he saw her and once again the lump behind his fly caught her eye. On the way to the movie they talked. Sam said he was a psychologist. That sounded familiar; she had probably been too preoccupied with his crotch when she first met him to have listened very closely.

A psychologist – just what she needed for a little advice. How could she work the topic of incest into the conversation without arousing his suspicions? She was concerned about her desire for her youngest son, and would like some free advice on the normalcy of that situation.

They talked about all sorts of interesting things, but incest didn't come up. The movie they went to see was a French film with subtitles. Susan didn't like to have to read a movie, but it figured that this type of guy would go for foreign films. He seemed to be a typical psychologist. He looked very intelligent with his gasses, longish hair and tweed sports jacket.

The movie was pretty good, but the ending seemed like a miracle. It turned out to be a movie about a pretty, young mother who eventually fucks her youngest son. It seemed as if Sam had read her mind and taken her to this film on purpose. As soon as they were in the car again, Susan asked him about incest.

"Oh, yes," he said, "a lot of people are involved in that. As a matter of fact, in some societies it's considered normal."

Susan was fascinated and she asked more questions. It seemed to be Sam's opinion that there wasn't anything wrong with fucking within a family. Of course, there could be guilt and jealousies, but that happened with other types of sex, too. The movie and Sam's comments had submerged Susan in a whirlpool of lust. For a moment she was worried that Sam wasn't going to ask her to his place, but he did. She hoped she didn't sound too eager in accepting.

When she got to his apartment, she was impressed. It was full of books, paintings, and expensive furniture. She made herself comfortable on a couch while Sam went over to hip fully stocked bar and mixed two martinis. He came to her with the drinks, handed her, one and sat down very close. He put an arm around her shoulder and sipped the drink. Susan was impatient, but she knew it would be a mistake to show it. She tried to drink the martini slowly and let things take their course.

Sam leaned close to her and kissed her. Susan let her mouth fall open, and she felt his tongue enter her mouth. It wasn't a second too soon. She hadn't remembered a time in her life when she was hornier. Suddenly, Sam leaned forward and picked up what looked like a remote control, for a television set. She couldn't believe that he was going to turn on a TV now, but that's exactly what he did.

A huge color television screen flashed on. What kind of nut was she mixed up with? she wondered. It looked like one of the late-night talk shows, until the picture came into clearer focus. Susan slowly realized that she was watching herself and Sam sitting on that couch.

"It's my hobby," Sam said. "The camera is right up there on the top shelf."

Susan looked up and saw a small TV camera peeking down at her. It was interesting, but not what she had in mind.

"Watch the screen," Sam said.

As Susan looked at the TV, she saw Sam reach over and take her tit in his hand. His touch, in her condition, was enough to curl her hair, but she realized that it was even more exciting watching it on the television screen. She saw him lean towards her and stick his face into the warmth of her neck. When she felt his lips on the tender skin under her ear, her pussy cried out for his prick.

Susan wasn't a TV addict, but if the programs were always as good as this, she would be. She had never seen herself being made love to before, and she couldn't believe how exciting it was. She reached over and stroked the side of Sam's head, a simple gesture, but watching it on the screen made it spectacular.