Kathy Andrews: Hot, hot mother

Toby began to speed up the plunges of his cock and Ginger met him. Once again Ginger was thrashing beneath her brother. Toby's breathing increased and soon they were both squirming and fucking wildly.

Lisa dug into her tit, causing a sharp pain.

She thrust a finger into her juicy cunt, stabbing it up and down, the hod of her hand smashing her inflamed clitoris.

"Ohhhh, I'm gonna come again, Toby!"

Ginger sobbed, grinding against him. "Oooo, make me come again!"

"I'm almost ready, Ginger!" Toby moaned, racing his cock up and down. "I'm just about there, too!"

"Now!" Ginger wailed.

"Yes!" Toby grunted.

Lisa saw them straining together again and their young bodies shuddering in orgasms.

Again they rested a moment.

When Toby sat back, Lisa stared at her son's wet cock. It was soft now and his balls looked even longer now that they were hanging down. She caught a glimpse of Ginger's almost bald cunt before she closed her legs. The pink lips were puffy and soaked.

Ginger sat up, facing her brother, crossing legs. She held his cock in her palm, giggling at him.

"What's funny?" Toby asked.

"I just thought of something," Ginger said. "What?" Toby asked, giving one of his sister's small nipples a light pinch.

"Remember what Daddy said?"

"He told us a lot of things," Toby replied.

"About Mother?"

"He still said a lot of things."

"About wishing she would come home?" Ginger said. "That he would call her the day he was killed?"

"Oh, that."

Lisa listened, watching her daughter bounce her brother's cock up and down. "He said he was gonna call her and beg her to come home. He was gonna tell her all about this, remember?"

Toby nodded. "I don't think it's funny, though."

"It's not funny, at least not that way," Ginger said. "I was just thinking about what it would be like if Daddy was still alive, with all of us like this."

"Yeah," Toby agreed. "Did you see those shorts Mom had on? They sure were tight."

"Got you hard, didn't it?" Ginger laughed. "You know it!" Toby grinned. "I'm glad you came here tonight, Ginger. I was about to take a chance and come to your room."

Lisa turned from the door and walked silently back to her bedroom. If her husband had found Ginger and Toby fucking, she was sure she was the last person he would call for help. But from what Ginger had said, that seemed to be the truth. And what else had Ginger meant?

Lisa removed her robe and climbed beneath the sheets. Her husband could not have gotten involved with the children, not that puritan who only fucked in one position – on top of her. Not the man who had refused to let her suck his cock, or lick her cunt. Not the man who had felt it was only his duty to fuck her.

The idea was just too ridiculous to consider. Instead she thought of the boy on the bus, Tod.

She licked her lips as if still feeling his young cock between them. She slowly began caressing her body, fondling her tits, her flat stomach, the thick hair that covered her cunt. She parted her legs, rubbing her hand up and down her wet, hot cunt. In her mind she was sucking on Tod's delicious cock again, the movements of the bus making it more erotic, the sleeping passengers never knowing she was giving the young boy a blow-job.

Toby's cock, stiff and throbbing, floated into her mind, and she wondered what her son's cock would taste like, feel like, between her lips or even fucking her.

The following day Lisa took her son and daughter to lunch at a sandwich shop.

All morning long she had dwelled on what she had seen, what she had heard. None of it made sense to her, except that her son was fucking her daughter. She wondered if they had inherited her erotic personality.

Toby was in his old faded jeans and a clean t-shirt, his usual uniform. Ginger dressed in a fresh, summer frock, a pale yellow in color. Her copper-colored hair was drawn back into a pony tail. Although pony tails were no longer in fashion, Ginger liked her hair that way. It made her look a good two to three years younger than she was.

Lisa wore a skirt and blouse and sandals, her legs bare. Her rich auburn hair was long, hanging to her shoulders, and she was without makeup.

The table they sat at was round and quite small and Lisa's knees touched those of her son. They ate sandwiches and drank soft drinks. Both Ginger and Toby chattered happily and Lisa watched them closely, listening to every word. But they said nothing that would help her understand what she had heard last night.

Since she had returned home, Lisa had been careful around her children, always wearing panties and bras and sitting carefully so she wouldn't expose anything. She hated to wear panties, unless they were of the erotic type, and she hated bras even more. She loved to feel her firm tits swing freely, her nipples brushing the material of her clothing.

Today, she was naked beneath the skirt and blouse. She couldn't stand the panties and bra any longer. While they ate, she remained silent, her eyes watching her children. In her mind she kept seeing her son's cock standing out so hard and her daughter's pink, candy-sweet cunt eagerly taking it.

Finally she spoke. "I hope your father had kind words for me while I was gone," she said softly. "I mean, he didn't hate me, did he?"

Both Ginger and Toby glanced at her, then each other.

"He didn't hate you, Mother," Ginger said. "Daddy loved you."

"He told us that many times, Mom," Toby put in. "In fact, he really missed you, especially just before the accident."

"Did he say anything about why I left?" she asked.

Again she saw the glance pass between them. Ginger started to shake her head, but Toby stopped her.

"He… he said a few things, Mom."

"Care to tell me what?" Lisa prompted.

For a minute she thought Toby would answer her, then he looked down at the table, saying nothing.

Ginger looked at her mother with huge eyes, the green darker than usual. Toby, however, kept his eyes down. Deciding it was best to drop it for the time, Lisa cleaned up the table, taking the litter to the barrels provided.

"Ready to go?"

They got up and immediately Ginger and Toby began to hold hands. Lisa followed them from the sandwich shop. They were not far from their house and the walk felt good. Lisa remained behind her son and daughter, watching the sway of her daughter's ass and the bunching of her son's ass. A tingling heat began to spread out ward from her cunt.

Inside the house, Lisa flopped onto the couch. Her skirt swirled up about her knees and she didn't bother covering them. Drawing one leg beneath her, she sat on her foot. A few inches of her creamy thighs were exposed and they drew her son's eyes. She watched him as he stared at her flesh. His cock, confined in the tight jeans, seemed to lurch. Deliberately, Lisa inched her skirt higher. She heard her son gasp and he quickly turned his eyes away from her thigh.

Ginger had slumped into the arm chair, scooting her hips forward. Her short skirt went higher, her knees parted. It could be she was careless, like so many girls her age, but Lisa didn't think so. She thought her daughter was doing it on purpose.

"Why was your father going to call me?" Lisa asked.

She saw her son jerk, his eyes straying over her thigh again. He sat down on the coffee table, seeming nervous.

"He wanted you to come home, Mother," Ginger said.

"He didn't seem to care when I left," Lisa reminded her daughter. "Why would he change his mind?"

"Because…" Ginger looked at her brother. "You tell her, Toby."

Toby swallowed. "He might not have told the truth, Mom."

"About me?" Lisa prompted.

Toby nodded.

"Mother, he said you couldn't keep your hands off men," Ginger said.