Rex Taylor: Mother lover

The cove was secluded, some distance from the main, road, and the property was posted to discourage casual trespassers. All in all, Cathy decided, as she and Chris disembarked from his father's car, it was a knockout place for a party. The soft lapping water in the cove gleamed silver in the moonlight, and the yellow glare of the bonfire threw weird shadows across the pale sand as some dancing couples moved to the sound of a portable radio.

"They started without us," Cathy observed as she and Chris went hand in hand down the slope. She had come in casual dress-cut-offs, halter top, and a plaid flannel shirt as a precaution against the night coolness blowing in off the water-but she had already been outdone. There were twenty or twenty-five people in sight; Cathy supposed, about equally divided in terms of sex, and none of them was wearing much of anything.

One girl, rather fat, with enormous saggy tits, was boogalooing topless, her boobs flopping in time with the mimic, and most of the other girls had long since discarded their tops, it appeared. Cathy hadn't seen so many bare tits since her last communal shower after gym class at school.

"Drink?" Chris invited, leading her towards a big tub. He bent over and took two paper cups from a sack lying on the sand and dipped them into the tub, handing one dripping cup to Cathy. She took a sip and her head swam momentarily. Purple Jesus punch, she thought gleefully; Grape juice and grain alcohol, with slices of lemon floating and dissolving in the tub. She took another sip.

It was nice, she decided, but so strong it could really knock you on your ass. A couple of years ago it would have been different-everyone sitting around with joints or caps of acid, smoking or dropping-but thank God, all that was out of style nowadays, and kids were more interested in getting bombed and boogleing than in trying out this dynamite new powder.

Cathy took another swallow of her Purple Jesus and turned to say something to Chris, but she closed her mouth as fast as she'd opened it.

A girl, really pretty and completely naked, had just come up and wrapped her arms around Chris' neck, and she was giving him a big wet kiss. Cathy flushed angrily, and she crushed the cup in her suddenly steely grip, dribbling punch all over her fingers.

Chris wiggled out of the girl's grasp and turned

towards Cathy. "Cath," he said, "this is Penny. Her dad handles a lot of East Coast business for my father. Penny, this is my friend Cathy."

"Oh, hi," Penny drawled lazily, propping her bare body against Chris. She had a nice body, too, with firm, high-set tits, long, long legs, and a beaver neatly trimmed and parted, as if it had just been to the beautician. Cathy hated her on sight and wondered how many times Chris had fucked this new girl.

"Penny!" someone was calling, almost in key with the Lynard Skynard song on the radio, and the threesome by the punch tub became a foursome. A guy, tall and on the skinny side, came up to stand beside Penny and Chris. Like the girl, he was naked, and his cock half-hard, the stalk bouncing a little as he moved. He put his hands on Penny's waist. "Naughty girl," he said. "You're not supposed to run away without finishing your chores."

Penny grinned at Chris. "Gotta go," she said, "for duty calls. You planning on hanging around for a while?"

"I guess we'll be here awhile," Chris nodded.

Penny tiptoed and kissed him again. "See you later," she said. "We can talk over old times or something." She gave her hand to the naked guy, and they walked away.

Cathy stomped across the foot or so of space that parted her from Chris. "Who was that?" she demanded.

"Just Penny," he smiled. "I introduced you to her. Remember?"

"She's a slut," Cathy declared. "She was trying to make you. Right in front of me. I could scratch her eyes out."

"She's an old, old friend," Chris said. "I've known her for years. A little wild at times, but

she's all right."

"I suppose you've fucked her."

"Sure," Chris said, "but it didn't mean anything. We were only fooling around and it sort of happened." Twenty or thirty times, he added to himself.

Cathy frowned at him, but she said nothing. "Why don't you get me a fresh drink?" she suggested. "I seem to have spilled mine." While he knelt to get her a clean cup, she wiggled out of her flannel shirt and halter, so that the first thing Chris saw when he turned back was Cathy's bare tits. "These are the tits you came with," she reminded him, "and don't forget it."

He gave her the cup of punch then let his hand drop down to stroke the nipple of her left tit. "I don't see how I could," he smiled, feeling the nip come to proud attention between his fingers. "Say, the music is too loud.. Why don't we find someplace a little quieter? Like, on the other side of that low dune?" and she went with him, bright-eyed and slight-stepping at the prospect of once again tasting his love.

Jennifer Pendexter was an even later arrival at the party than Chris and Cathy, for she was ambling down the bluff unescorted at the very moment they left the tub of punch. Always an observant girl, Jennifer saw them going and made instant recognition. She smiled wryly to see the possessive manner in which Chris' hand cupped Cathy's delicious ass and wondered for the hundredth time at least how she was going to manage getting her nose into Cathy's all-American pussy.

"Oh, that feels good," Cathy purred. Her cut-offs were down to her knees, and Chris was sliding him hand back and forth through the silky hairs of her snatch, teasing and tickling the insides of her upper thighs and doing strange, wonderful thing to the mouth of her warm, wet cunt. She raised her face to his and began to give him nippy, puppy-dog kisses, each one loud smack in the relative quiet of the night air.

She slid closer against him, working her hands into the waist of his own cut-off jeans, slipping down to knead the muscular firmness of his ass. She twisted her entrapped arms in the tightness and the button at his front snapped open. Cathy laughed into his mouth, and she brought her hands. around his body, one set of fingers capturing his cock, the other unzipping him, tugging the cut-offs down his legs.

"Bet you can't screw me right now," she sighed, getting a good handful of his cock and balls.

"How much you want to bet?" he panted, reciprocating with the steady work of his fingers in her own crotch.

"Sixty-nine," she whispered back.

"Dollars or cents?"

"Neither one, dummy! A sixty-nine. That way, no matter who loses the bet, everybody wins."

"You're on," he replied, wiggling his hips to help her slide his pants down.

"Get me off," she challenged.

"You're a sex maniac." came a squealing voice that was, suddenly very, very near to where Chris and Cathy lay, and the teenagers rolled around jut in time to see Penny, still naked and still lovely, come rimming over the top of the low dune that separated them from the party by the cove.

Penny saw them, too, and she bounded high like a gazelle, leaping right over their prone figures with a defiant yell. In another moment a boy appeared in hot pursuit. It was the same boy who'd confiscated her a bit earlier, and he was still naked, too, but his cock was no longer half-hard. Cathy could see it thrusting up high and stiff from the hair patch of his groin, and, she could almost hear the bouncing of his nuts inside his huge scrotum.

He wasn't quite so athletic as Penny. He tried to jump over Chris and Cathy as well, no doubt wishing to impress Penny, for she stood waiting a few yards away, but luck wasn't with him. His foot slipped and he fell forward, landing on Cathy with a thump that knocked the breath out of her for a moment. And there he lay like a beached whale, pinning Cathy beneath him as he scrambled in the slippery sand for a toehold.