Random Thoughts
I Anne in the bedroom
Katie had finally come home from University, and Anne, her mother, simply couldn’t have been more happy.
“Oh, honey, you’re back,” she said, throwing her arms around her in her usual enthusiasm.
But the routine of maintaining the house quickly reasserted itself despite Katie’s return.
Anne dusted on Saturdays.
Darrel, still a senior in high school, mowed the lawn. Then shut the door of his bedroom and stayed there.
James, her husband, left to play golf.
And Katie sunbathed.
Oh, Anne couldn’t complain. The girl kept her room cleaned, helped with the dishes sometimes, did her laundry. But only her laundry.
And mostly stayed out of everyone’s way, almost immediately settling into her usual habits of hanging with friends till the late hours of the night.
Anne didn’t worry about that.
Why would she?
A girl had to have her fun.
Katie was an adult.
But she’s still my girl, she thought. And she always will be.
Besides, Anne told herself. I like to have my fun, too.
And she did.
James, oh he was a good sort, stayed out the way, climbed on top of her every so often, and pretty much tried to make her happy.
But his best years were long behind him, and Anne. Well, she told herself she still had some left in the tank.
And by looking at her, she did.
She wore her dark brown hair at shoulder length, with the tips of her hair just touching the shoulder tops, parted in the middle, and sometimes pulled back with a wide barrette or handkerchief high over her forehead. Thick dark eyebrows ran over her deep brown eyes in a flattened arch, giving her eyes a slightly drooping, friendly expression. Her nose was neither broad nor thin, and it sloped to a slightly upturned button. Her lips were a little thin, but she learned to extend the line of her lips with lipstick, when she wore the stuff. Which had been a while, now that she thought of it. She hadn’t gone out lately.
She wasn’t exactly a party girl.
But she liked to tie the flaps of her shirt above her waistline to show her bellybutton when she cleaned the house, wearing an old pair of capris and tennis shoes.
With her wide round face, and wide but shapely hips, she gave off a still youthful attitude despite her 39 years as she bounced around the upper story of her home, cleaning and dusting the knickknack and bric-a-brac scattered across the top of her long dresser in her bedroom, idly looking out the window at the swimming pool below and feeling just a little bit, just a little bit horny.
She’d been feeling that way lately.
It started last week, maybe the week before last.
A low-level, barely perceptible tremor of an itch spreading throughout her entire body until, unable to stand any more of it and seeing no reason to resist, she’d run to her bedroom, pull off her jeans or capris, spread her thighs and rub herself to a quick, a startlingly quick orgasm.
Then she could go about her day.
Shopping, cleaning, exercising, going out with her friends.
But every day that feeling of arousal would build to an unbearable need to cum, and cum hard.
Coming into her mind randomly. A random, stray thought wandering through her mind.
I should play with myself.
Right now.
I should finger myself.
I should masturbate.
She’d resist the suddenly appearing intrusive thought, Anne would, fighting the temptation and the abrupt urge with a flurry of cleaning, a flurry of doing chores, keeping herself occupied.
But the thought never left.
I need to masturbate, she’d think, the voice of her mind echoing in her head. I need to fuck myself right now.
Then she would.
She’d drop whatever it was she was doing and scramble to her bedroom, struggling out of her clothes to hop on her bed, spread her legs wide, and plunge her fingers over and into her aching wet pussy.
And now, today, she felt it again. Stronger than usual as she gazed out the window, idly wiping her duster over the dresser.
Her thighs squeezed together, pressing tightly together as she squirmed while standing, while looking out at the back yard from her window.
She turned to glance at her bed, at her bedroom door, wide open.
A wicked thought fluttered through her mind.
“Darrel never leaves his room. I’d hear him coming. I should just lie on the bed and play with myself, with the door open.”
She turned to stare out the window again.
“Get a hold of yourself, Anne. At least close the door.”
Her gaze dropped to the figure of her daughter, lounging on a chair by the pool, soaking up the sun, her skin glistened with oil.
“Her breasts are so much fuller than mine,” said thought wistfully. “She gets that from her father’s side of the family.”
Then another thought fluttered through her mind, circling it like a confused butterfly.
“I should just finger myself here, while looking at her. She’d never notice, she’d never know her own mother was fucking herself while she sunbathed.”
Those kinds of thoughts had also been filling her head lately, what, just about two weeks ago. Maybe three weeks ago.
Just idle, random thoughts, highly sexual and charged with an improper eroticism, that quickly passed, at first without so much as leaving a ripple in her mental state.
But several weeks of such thoughts, such random thoughts flying, racing so quickly through her mind left her dazed, scattered and scatter-brained.
That week she’d started taking to cleaning daily, every day, whether she’d cleaned the day before or not. That didn’t matter, she just needed to keep busy, keep doing the same thing, over and over, without thought. Without any thought other than how nice it would be to spread her legs and rub herself, whether anyone could see her or not.
She’d masturbate, the moment would pass, and she’d be Anne again, mother of Katie and Darrel. James’ loving and doting wife.
But she’d already rubbed one out in the laundry room that morning, and her craving came back, doubled, tripled. Unrestrainable. Un-hold-back-able.
Still holding her blue duster in her right hand, she held her breath as her left hand, almost of its own will, descended towards her the button of her waistband.
“The door’s wide open, and Darrel would be able to see all of my ass if he walked by the door. If I do this. I’m not really going to do this, am I?”
She’d never been so careless in her masturbation sessions before, never even taking the slightest chance of being caught. She’d never risk not locking the door behind her, much less letting it stay open.
Not before today, not before this morning in the laundry room.
My god.
The laundry room.
Nothing had even set her off.
But she’d no sooner thrown all the bath towels into the washer, shut the washer door, and turned the machine on, than a powerful urge to touch herself filled her mind.
“I should finger myself here,” she’d thought at the time.
Her mind, already battered by a hundred such thoughts that morning, offered no resistance, gave no defense.
At least the door was closed.
And she hadn’t actually pulled down her pants.
She just stuck her hand down her waist and fucked herself, enjoying her wetness, her heat, flicking the hard nub of her clit until she came, suddenly but not unexpectedly.
A few moments later, after collecting herself and catching her breath, she heard the pitter-patter of socked feet walking towards the door.
She threw the door open to a bewildered Katie just about to turn the handle.
“Are you okay, Mom,” she asked. “Your face is flushed.”
Anne stammered an answer.
“You seen my bikini? I can’t find it anywhere.”
Anne pointed to a row of hooks James had drilled into the wall.
Katie yanked the two pieces of her yellow swimsuit off one of the hooks.
“Thanks, Mom,” she said, running back to her bedroom.
If you could call it a swimsuit.
I’m so horny right now. I need to masturbate. A finger in my cunt would feel so good.
Coming back to the present, Anne noticed that the blue duster had fallen from her hand. The fingers of her left hand unbuttoned the last button of her fly, and she felt herself opening her capris and tugging on the waist with both hands, pushing her pants slowly over the wide, inverted heart shape of her ass.
It’s okay to do it here.
To just fuck myself standing here.
She shivered in that unaccountably sexy moment of disrobing, of feeling her ass bare and exposed to the world. God, if someone walked by now, they could see everything.
No. Not everything.
She still wore her panties, her blue panties, edged with lace.
I can take my panties off, she thought. I should take my panties off and slide my fingers across my bare cunt.
My hot, swollen cunt.
I would feel so good.
So nice.
They barely covered her ass, but they covered it, exposing only her bottom curves, pressing her upper cheeks close and tight.
She slipped her panties past her ass, shivering as she felt both holes so hungrily exposed.
Both holes?
Her pussy clenched, moisture gathered around her cleft, and her asshole tightened.
She peeled her ears attentively to the sound of footsteps on the carpeted floor of the hallway outside her door, but she heard nothing but the quiet noises of an empty house.
Darrel sat in his room.
Darrel always sat in his room, now.
He hardly ever came out.
And James always stayed late at work, now.
Or played golf on weekends.
Always golf.
Leaving Katie to stay home with Anne.
Leaving Katie to stay home and sunbathe with her mother upstairs, cleaning the house, so horny, so excited, so craving sex, her pussy so wet and in need now, staring out the window at nothing, at nothing at all, her fingers in her hot cunt, her fingers just gliding over her hot and wet and trembling pussy, staring at nothing at all.
Her fingers, her middle finger, glided into her warm, slippery fuckhole, so wet and hot, staring out the window at nothing at all.
Her eyes caught her daughter Katie, sunbathing below her, her full breasts covered only by the merest hint of bikini cups.
I should watch Katie while stroking my hole.
It would be so hot. So nasty.
Watching my own daughter while fucking myself.
She’d never know.
One of Katie’s knees, her left knee, rose and bent and fell to one side, and Anne stared at the full, soft mound of her daughter’s groin, too far away to see what crease, if any, offered itself to view behind the patch of fabric covering her pubic mound.
It was a dirty thought, a delicious thought, and it burned into her mind like a hot iron smoothing the wrinkles of her resistance.
Stop it, she tried to yell at herself.
This is so wrong.
I’m not even gay. I’m not even a dyke.
She’s your daughter, for God’s sake, Anne. Get a hold of yourself.
I know, the other voice, her other voice said. That’s what makes it so naughty. Katie will never know. Besides, she’s so hot. You might as well get an eyeful while fucking yourself.
Anne leaned against the dresser and stared down below.
Now fully naked, she caressed her body with her left hand, feeling the warm smoothness of her skin, and longed for the touch of someone else. The palm of her left hand slid over her skin from the top sides of her thigh and over her hips. She felt around the round yielding skin of her ass.
Her fingers lingered a moment near her crack.
Her right hand gained speed, moving in a flurry over the lips of her pussy, riding the soft bump of her clit rapidly before shoving a finger, two fingers into her wet hole.
The wet plopping sound of her fingers driving into her squishy cunt filled the room, and Anne’s left hand drifted to her tit, where she kneaded her small flesh like dough, pinching and pulling her hard, aching nipples, stopping only to plunge her fingers into her mouth to lick them wet till they dripped from her saliva.
Spit dribbled from her half-open mouth, and Anne groaned.
Anne’s eyes roamed her daughter’s body, shining with perspiration and oil. Katie’s full breasts, flattening to gravity, swelled out from the edges of her bikini top, threatening to spill completely from their cups.
Large dark sunglasses hid Katie’s eyes, but her lips, a natural pale pink gleaming with gloss, split in a half-part. Anne wondered if she had fallen asleep, and a brief flash of worry troubled the mother’s lust.
She could get burned, Anne thought.
I could get burned just looking at her, Anne realized, continuing to stroke her scalding, quivering pussy, dipping her finger in and out of her drenched, steaming hole.
She’s so fucking hot.
Then Katie licked her glossy lips, and the mother’s worry over her daughter falling asleep in the sun vanished.
So hot.
Still clutching her tit, Anne licked her lips and groaned, a plaintive, pleading protest of need and desire.
I’m so close.
Then Katie’s thighs spread wider as the girl lay on her lounge chair. Her right leg, the leg closer to the house, dropped to the ground, and Katie bent her left leg, spreading her thigh in the opposite direction until the gusset of her bikini bottom slipped, and a little of her pretty cunt, just inside of her fat and swollen outer labia, could be seen.
Anne’s left had dropped from her tit and slid down her body, trailing their polished nailed tips down the length of her trembling body until coming to the fleshy swell of her soft ass.
She suddenly brought her left hand to her mouth, covered her fingers in spit, and dropped her hand back to her ass.
She felt so sexy, her ass felt so sexy, so desirable, so hot.
She loved touching her body.
I’ve always loved touching my body.
I’m so close.
My woman’s body.
Her body trembled, and an electric spark shot from her clit as the woman fucked herself, plunging her fingers into her soaked pussy and rubbing her clit with her thumb, palm, the backs of her fingers as she rode her pussy into an orgasm that couldn’t be far off now.
She pushed her left hand between her ass cheeks, bringing her first and middle fingers close to the puffy warm rim of her rosebud, her asshole. Pushing her ass out from the dresser, she sank her two big fingers already lubricated by her spit into her shithole, spreading the tight hole wider and wider and inching her fingers deeper and deeper up to the second knuckle.
“Oh my fucking God,” she grunted. “I need this. I need this so bad.”
She leaned against the dresser, holding herself up half-sideways over the dresser top, her eyes never leaving Katie’s body, as she pressed her groin against the hard edge of the furniture.
She held her hips between the vice of her two hands, one fucking her pussy, the other fucking her asshole.
She felt her anal gunk, her asshole packed and dirty, but it didn’t alarm her; it didn’t disgust her.
What had she expected to find up there?
But oh.
Somehow she knew she’d need more; the sweet rich fullness of having both holes stuffed had only been tasted. She’d need more of it. Thicker, harder.
She thought of James’ cock, but the thought of it vexed her, and the image quickly passed.
She wanted something else.
She wanted someone else.
Katie sat up suddenly, reached behind her and untied her bikini top, and the girl’s magnificent glands spilled into view. Wide aureoles, slightly darker than the surrounding skin, topped by round nipples greeted Anne’s eyes, and even from her distance, the mother thought they looked hard, excited, alert.
“God damn, God damn, God damn,” Anne muttered over and again, half-crazed, eyes glued to her daughter’s nudity.
Hit by another barrage of lust, Anne’s knees almost gave out, and the woman collapsed against the top of her dresser, eyes focused and stuck to her daughter’s groin in full view between her parted thighs, covered only partially by the yellow fabric of her bikini bottom. Her eyes rushed to her breasts, to her pussy, to her breasts, and pink glossy lips, back to the girl’s half-hidden pussy, desperately trying to take in as much of the young woman’s beauty and raw sexuality as she could.
“Oh God,” she said, panting, “I’m cumming, I’m cumming. I’m cumming so fucking hard looking at your pussy girl.”
But she wasn’t. Not yet.
Her orgasm seemed to waver, to dawdle just beyond the reach of her fingers, and she quickened her pace, rubbing her clit and fucking her pussy with two fingers at a dizzying pace, until finally her fingertips blazed a fan of blurry fingers over her clit, and she screamed, bending into the dresser as if fucking it, jamming the fingers of her other hand as far into her asshole as she could, spit falling from her open mouth as she gazed hungrily at her daughter like a woman possessed.
II Eine kleine buttplay
It took her ages to recover.
She pulled her fingers from her ass and drew her fingers from her still clenching vagina.
Spent, embarrassed, ashamed, she slowly brought herself together, collected the ragged fragments of her mind, and gathered her discarded clothes.
She pulled on her blue panties and walked to the door, peeking out into the hall before closing the door.
No one was in the hall.
She tried to scour her memory for any echo of footsteps, but she had been so deeply engrossed in.
No.
How could I?
How could I do that to Katie?
But Darrel never left his room.
He wouldn’t have been in the hall during all that. He wouldn’t have been peeking through the door, listening to his mother’s cumfest from outside her bedroom.
He never left his room.
Anne knew that much about the awkward teenager, and she felt some relief at that.
She was the only one who knew about her debauchery.
Her decadence.
Her perversions.
She lifted her left hand and saw the filth.
I need to wash my hands, she thought.
Her left hand hung suspended in the air in front of her. Brown, anal filth covered her two nails, smeared over her pink polish. Her mind reeled in sudden turmoil, and her mouth tightened with disgust as another thought followed quickly on the heels of the first.
Or I could just.
No.
God, no.
Lick them clean.
Anne wanted to scream, to throw her hands down, to run to the bathroom. She shook her head slightly, her eyes worried and terrified at her inability to block her own thoughts. Or to even resist them.
Why not?
Her deranged voice echoed loudly in her head.
No one’s looking, no one can see.
But it’s so gross, she protested.
I’ll get sick.
It’s just a little bit, the other voice said reassuringly.
You can do it.
You can lick your hands clean.
Anne continued to shake her head, but even as she did so her hand drew closer and closer to the quivering lips of her open mouth. The dank, disgusting, and acrid smell filled her nostrils, but still her fingers moved closer, and closer, and closer to her mouth.
Then her fingers entered her mouth, and her lips closed over them, and her tongue swirled around the tips and lengths of her fingers.
And even as she gagged and ran into the bathroom, Anne kept her fingers in her mouth, sucking on and licking the remains of her sickly sweet and bitter smelling shit, surprised by the blandness of the flavor of her, well, poo.
Not good, definitely.
But definitely.
Not bad.
III Anne’s struggle
Her shower left Anne feeling a little better about herself.
That almost incessantly raging arousal, that horniness, had dissipated.
She felt clean. And normal.
Normal enough not to overthink her actions of just a few minutes ago. Of just half an hour ago.
Oh my god.
How could I do that to her?
Anne fled to her dresser, picking out the most sensible underwear she had, fled to her closet to pick out the baggiest, drabbiest clothes she owned. She flung a years old T-shirt over her head, pulled up a pair of old, green sweatpants, and tugged white anklets over her feet, then she shoved those feet into her plain blue tennis shoes.
Nothing sexy.
Nothing sexy at all.
She sat down in front of the computer in the family room, where she checked the bank account, figured out the budget, paid bills.
On a whim, she searched for sex toys.
Why that had come into her mind, she couldn’t explain.
Just a random thought, really.
I should look up sex toys, she thought. Things that might be fun.
She was an adult. Hardly a prude. And she already had a vibrator, because a girl did.
But when her eyes alighted on a huge black strap-on dildo she knew she had to have it.
She briefly considered ordering one online, but she recognized the company name. They had a local outlet here.
She grabbed her purse and headed out the door.
IV Anne sans panties
The rest of the day flew by, quietly, almost peacefully.
Yeah, that nagging, inescapable horniness, that ever-present arousal, remained, keeping her from truly relaxing. She couldn’t shake the feeling that at any moment another burst of lust would wash over her, leaving her defenseless and ready to fuck herself no matter where she was.
But as it didn’t come, as it didn’t wash over her, she found that she could enjoy the day with a fair degree of peace of mind.
The visit to the sex shop didn’t help matters, but oddly enough, it didn’t worsen her situation. She shopped for her new toys methodically, almost clinically, selecting a bright magenta silicone cock.
As an afterthought, she bought a harness to along with it.
And a vibrating wand.
And a few other things.
She’d read blogs warning her of the dangers of porous sex toys, especially those containing phthalates. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but she intended to steer clear and well away of them.
She couldn’t look Katie in the eye.
“Hey, Mom,” she said, walking by her in the wall, a beach towel wrapped around her.
“Hey,” but Anne didn’t look; Anne couldn’t look; Anne mustn’t look at her, and Anne did not look at her.
Not even to glance behind her to watch her daughter pad into her bedroom.
Not even to see if she’d drop the towel.
Just a little.
Just a little to show a little more skin.
Oh, god.
Stop this, Anne.
And Anne stopped it.
So that was a victory. Of sorts.
But when dinner came around, even as Anne stirred her homemade ratatouille with Italian sausage for her spaghetti sauce, dressed in a light sundress under her blue apron, another wicked idea came to her.
I shouldn’t wear panties at the table.
I mean, how naughty would that be? To not wear panties at the table.
What would Katie think?
A tingle thrilled through her, and she shivered just thinking about it, just thinking about talking to her daughter, knowing her pussy was exposed, bared for all to see if she spread her thighs.
She looked around the kitchen, saw no one, and reached under the hem of her dress, quickly slipping off her panties to put in the pocket of her apron.
What would Darrel and James think?
That thought seemed strange to her, as if coming from someone else. What did Darrel or James matter? Oddly enough, the thought of going sans panties in front of her son and husband didn’t faze her even a little.
After all, what difference did they make?
But Katie.
Katie, sitting kitty corner to her at the table, directly across from her brother, and sitting on Anne’s right side, she took Anne’s breath away.
Oh, god. Katie.
Anne squirmed in her seat as she felt her molten pussy begin to leak.
She could almost smell her pungent, funky arousal.
Could Katie smell her?
Did Katie like it?
Did Katie want to see it?
Another thought flashed through Anne’s mind, randomly, coming from nowhere.
Anne spread her thighs wide, surreptitiously dropping her hands to pull her dress up to her waist.
Then she knocked her spoon of the table with her elbow.
James threw Anne a quizzical look.
“I’ve been so clumsy today. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Darrel, do you mind?”
Darrel did mind, and he said so.
“Katie’s closer. Why can’t she get it? Why can’t you get it?”
Katie rolled her eyes.
The spoon had fallen just inside the area below the table, covered by its habitual white tablecloth.
James had often protested against its use, but Anne held firm.
A table needed a tablecloth.
Katie stooped off her chair just enough to reach the spoon, but Anne’s foot kicked further under the table.
Katie glared at her mother.
“I’m so sorry, honey. Please.”
Katie huffed.
Why not just get another spoon?
Katie knelt beside her chair, then crawled just another for her head to be completely underneath the table.
Anne turned just enough in Katie’s direction and spread her legs wide.
My god, she thought. What the fuck is wrong with me?
She could feel her juices leaking from her hole, she knew Katie could see how wet she was.
She heard Katie yelp with surprise as something, presumably her head, bumped the bottom of the tabletop, but she kept her thighs spread wide, showing off her big cunt to her daughter.
“Do you need more bread, dear?” she asked her husband, lifting the bread basket and holding it in James’s direction.
Katie had trouble getting the spoon. Anne heard it clattering under the table, but eventually Katie retrieved, scrambling from beneath the table with a red, flushed face.
She peered intently at her mother.
Mom, she mouthed silently. Why?
But Anne just smiled in reply.
Katie spent the rest of the meal staring at her plate, not daring to look at her mother.
Suddenly she jumped up and fled the table without saying a word.
Darrel reached for her unfinished plate.
“What?” he said. “I’m still hungry.”
“That’s fine, dear,” Anne answered.
V Katie’s dilemma
Katie huddled on her bed, her knees pulled to her chin as she shivered and shook with, well, she didn’t know. She couldn’t say.
She wanted to be outraged, and she was outraged, but she wasn’t outraged enough. She wanted to be disgusted, and she was disgusted, but she wasn’t disgusted enough. She wanted to be sickened, and she did feel sickened, but she felt she should be sickened more.
More deeply, more utterly.
She should be grossed out and nauseous, but she wasn’t.
Not really.
Not when she really thought about it, and it was all she could think about. All she’d ever be able to think about now. Her mother’s vagina, bared for all the world to see, under the table.
But it hadn’t been bared for all the world to see.
It had been bared for her. For Katie. Deliberately. And without apology or explanation.
Bared was the word for it, bare. Naked. Shaven. Hairless. A gaping, naked wet hole, practically dripping, labia sticking out, ragged and fleshly flaps dripping with her juices.
Her pussy juices.
My mother’s pussy.
What the fuck, Mom?
Katie continued rocking back and forth, groaning with frustration, fear, confusion, disgust, and outrage.
What the actual fuck, Mom.
It was weird, though. Not just her mom flashing her under the table. But that she’d even gone under the table in the first place. It just seemed weird, now that she thought about it. She was in college now. Hell, she wouldn’t have done that even in high school. Listened to her mom like that. Got off her chair to pick up a spoon she knocked off deliberately.
It was weird.
Not just all that, but the way she felt now.
Outraged, disgusted, alarmed. Confused. But all so. Distantly. Like behind a glass wall. Like something stopped her from really feeling the total strangeness of it.
Her mother’s pussy.
How could she?
Eventually Katie quit rocking back and forth, eventually she changed, grabbed her car keys, purse, and phone and drove over to Lisa’s house, her old friend from high school. From way back.
It’d be nice to see her again.
VI Katie back home
She came home late, after midnight.
She crept upstairs, trying to be quiet, trying not to wake anybody up.
She changed out of her clothes, down to her panties, no bra and was just picking up her favorite threadbare tee shirt.
Someone tapped her door.
Before she could cover herself the door opened, and her mother’s face poked in.
“Honey? Baby? Did you have a good night?”
For some reason, some bizarre reason Katie couldn’t explain, she just stood there, facing her mother, holding her tee shirt at her waist, exposing her bare tits, her bare boobs, to her mother’s shining eyes.
There was no denying the lust rising like a tidal wave behind them.
Katie pushed her bust out slightly and faced her mother. Why? She had no idea. She just did.
“I had a great night, Mom. Lisa and I, we just laughed for hours. I forgot how funny she is.”
Anne stepped into her bedroom, wearing a silk night robe. Her nipples were hard, and the robe clearly outlined the slope of her boobs.
Initially, she wasn’t going to wait up for her daughter. But then she thought it might be nice to say good night.
Then she had a thought it might be kind of fun, kind of naughty fun.
I shouldn’t, she thought, protesting against the random idea.
I mean, I probably already freaked the poor girl out enough.
Just the thought of it had made her finger herself to an orgasm, her hand under her panties, slowly fucking herself to a climax beside the snoring figure of her husband.
She fucked herself with both hands, pressing the back of her panties into the crack of her ass, pushing the satin into her asshole as far as it would go with her two long fingers.
Then she came.
When she finished her panties were soaked.
Now she stood just inside Katie’s door.
Staring straight into her daughter’s eyes, not breaking contact even for a moment, she loosened her robe so that it dropped away, exposing her full boobs to Katie.
She placed her fingers inside the waistband of her wet panties and slipped them down her hips, pushing the down her legs, and letting go to let the drop with the softest of whooshes to the floor.
Her eyes never once left Katie’s.
Then she stepped forward, embraced her daughter, and kissed her forehead.
“Good night, sweetie. It’s good to have you back.”
VII Katie in her room
Katie stared at the panties in the middle of her floor.
It was all so strange.
Behind that weird glass, she howled and raged with violated decency, even trust. Her mother had violated every tenant of good behavior.
You just didn’t.
You just didn’t do this sort of thing.
But she did.
Mom did.
Mom did it twice now.
And I just let her.
Katie pulled her shirt over her head and fell into her bed. Surprisingly, she fell asleep quickly and effortlessly.
But later that night, waking up thirsty and, well, horny, Katie went to the bathroom to get water.
When she returned, her eyes met the panties on the floor near her bed.
Swooping to fetch the silk garment, almost without thinking she brought it to her face, breathing in the pungent aroma.
She fall onto her bed, lay back, plunged her right hand down her panties to pump her pussy while pressing her mother’s panties filled with wonderful stink of her mother’s pussy and asshole to her nose and mouth. Finally she stuffed the panties into her mouth as her orgasm hit her.
Her toes curled, her legs bent towards her chest, and she doubled over, moaning in exquisite agony, delirious with her mom’s funk.
VIII Out of hand
Things got a little out of hand the next day.
IX Katie at the pool
Katie successfully put last night’s events out of her mind. She was good at that, apparently. Just put it behind the glass wall and go on with your day. You were horny, and they were there. On the floor. Wet and pungent, filled with her mother. God. What an orgasm.
Meanwhile the day was sunny and bright, and the pool looked so good.
Laying out in the sun, that’s what she need. Catch some rays, soak up the sun, and just relax.
So she picked the skimpiest bikini she had.
I mean, why not?
Lisa had bought it for her as a gag. Katie took one look at it, shook her head, and tossed it deep inside her closet.
Lisa had called it a slingshot bikini.
The garment consisted simply of two strings running from her groin to over her shoulders and back down to rejoin the string running through the crack of her ass. A very small bikini top went with it, just two very tiny triangle hardly large enough to cover her nipples.
“You don’t have to wear the top,” Lisa had said at the time. “You can use the bottom string to cover your tits. Sort of.”
Katie had just rolled her eyes at her friend.
Now, on a sudden whim, she decided to wear the swimwear. And to forego the top.
After all, it was just their backyard, and no one was home that Saturday afternoon except her mother.
I mean, Darrel might have been in his room messing with his stupid computer, but that didn’t really count.
Did it?
X Anne sees Katie
When Anne looked out her bedroom window, she had to grab hold of the sill to steady herself. Her daughter lay in the sun, not much more than twenty feet away, if that, practically naked. Her boobs showed clear and fleshy, a thin line of fabric covered her nipples. Her dark areolas, so much larger than the nubs of her tits, extended well beyond the string.
Anne hadn’t bother putting on panties that morning.
Why bother, she thought. Not with the way she’d been feeling all last night. She barely got any sleep, but she did manage to rub herself to three or four more orgasms.
James hadn’t woken up.
Which was weird, because she certainly hadn’t been quiet about it.
So that morning she threw on a faded black Guns ’N Roses tee and pulled on a pair of loose pink satin bootie shorts.
Now, so much like the day before, she found herself leaning against the windowsill, her face practically jammed against the window, as both hands quickly moved to her pussy and ass. Her fingers stole into her cunt, already flowing, so wet and hot. She’d been so hot since yesterday, her pussy leaked constantly, and when Katie jumped up from the table, Anne plunged three fingers into her hole, not caring whether Darrel or James saw her.
They didn’t.
They didn’t notice when she slumped in her chair, slouching to hammer her pussy into her fingers. They didn’t seem to notice the legs of the chair beating against the floor. Her orgasm did nothing to bring her down, but still the men in her life did not notice.
She sucked her fingers clean at the table, told Darrel and James to clear the table and put away the dishes. Then she went to her bathroom, poured her favorite bath oil, disrobed, and climbed into the wide, long tub, deep, hot, bubbly.
It wasn’t long before she was pinching her nipples, rubbing her breasts, and sliding her fingers over her labia, fat and lewdly open, her lust again instantly flaring. She tried to think, tried to regain control of herself, but the storm of desire blew away all restraint. And really, there was no need for restraint.
She was alone and free to think of Katie.
Now she leaned against the window, her knees almost buckling, as she swiped her juices over the rosebud of her asshole, delighting in the warm, wet, naughty feeling. She’d been so turned on. So turned on lately.
For at least a week, all those thoughts, all those random thoughts.
They had begun two weeks ago, maybe.
She’d always been a little, you know. Charged up.
But nothing like this.
The first week, she didn’t think much of it. James had been out on his business trip to Asia, she couldn’t remember which country exactly. Maybe Vietnam. She just thought she’d been horny in his absence.
Odd, random thoughts would flit through her mind, sudden flashes of arousal that passed, dissipating rapidly like steam from a turned off kettle. Leaving her flushed, excited, but still in control of herself. Able to lock her door while she hurriedly peeled down her pants, her slacks, her skirt, to caress her suddenly aching hole, her pussy.
God, she loved to call it her cunt now.
My cunt.
She groaned and exhaled against the window, her breath momentarily clouding small patches on the glass.
Her vaginal secretions covered her asshole, she felt so hot, so good, as she sank two fingers of her left hand into her rim, sinking her fingers deeper and deeper into her ass, pumping her cunt wildly with her right hand, three fingers at a time.
Oh god.
Until yesterday, when she saw Katie sunbathing.
She lost all control, all restraint.
Afterwards, she remembered how all last week she’d think about her, right before or right after her climax, a thought of Katie’s pretty face, a vision of her body in a dress. How she’d clean Katie’s room, and stare at her prom photos or photos from Halloween, that year she dressed, against her mother’s better judgment, as a sexy witch.
A very sexy witch.
Sheer black fishnet stocking, some kind of black lacy gothic bodice, pushing up her tits, sheer fabric showing off her body underneath, a black mantle, and pointed cap. Black leather platform boots.
Anne couldn’t believe she had let Katie go out like that.
It was what, two years ago? She must have only been sixteen or seventeen.
But god, she looked hot.
Not that Anne had put it that way at the time.
All last week she’d run into Katie’s room, looking over her photos, folding her clothes, running her fingers thoughtfully over her clean underwear, or slowly, one by one, placing her dirty panties into the washer, inspecting them, almost casually, clinically. Not dwelling on it when she’d suddenly run to her bedroom, strip off her clothes and fuck herself silly.
Until yesterday.
Oh, there was that part of her mind that had screamed at her during and after.
But the sound of it seemed distant, muffled, and her new desires were so strong, so powerful, she could not control them, did not want to control them. She wanted to lose herself in the flood, to be swept away, out to see, never to touch the dry land of whatever her existence had been.
When she brought the dildo home yesterday, everything had changed for her.
At the store, at the sex shop, nothing had fazed her, all the toys, all the objects and clothes and accessories, none of that fazed her. She knew what she was looking for, saw other things that intrigued her, bought them, and went home. Only then did the experience hit her.
Not bothering to check the time, not bothering to close her bedroom door, she stripped, cleaned and lubed her new toy, placed it upright on the bed and sat on it slowly, gradually impaling herself as she pounded a vibrating wand against her clit, Katie’s Halloween photo staring up at her, between her knees.
Oh god. Oh fuck.
Oh god.
The rags and shards of her former life screamed and howled in despair, but Anne had passed the point of caring. Or even hearing. She held one hand on her slippery dark pink shaft and the other held her wand, and she shuddered and screamed, her breath ragged, heavy, short. She desperately wished someone were there to caress her tits, to squeeze her boobs, to fondle and kiss her boobs swaying as she pumped her ass into the dildo, delighting in the fullness the cock inside her produced, she sank the vibrating bulb of the wand into her pussy, touching inside her vaginal walls, hammering her spot with the machine rapidity of her vibrator, that sweet, sweet spot where all things wonderful begin until her eyes rolled back in a shuddering, quaking orgasm, jerking repeatedly in spasms of delight and pleasure, spraying her juices all over the photograph of her daughter in its braided black metal frame.
Oh fuck. Oh god.
Oh my fucking god, Katie. You make me cum so hard.
I want to fuck you so bad.
I want you to know how much I want to fuck you.
I want you to see my pussy.
My cunt.
And so that night at the dinner table, she showed it to her.
XI Anne’s orgasm
Now, the next day, she stood at the window, half-teetering against the wall and window, barely able to keep from falling as she pumped her clenching ass and twitching cunt, bringing both fingers to her mouth one after another to lick her fingers and to get them wet, though she hardly needed the lubrication. She was so turned on, so on fire, the taste of her ass thrilled and disgusted her, she knew she was sinking and sinking fast into an endless pit of depravity, but she didn’t care.
She didn’t care.
Another orgasm was building inside her, another limb-wracking, body-contorting orgasm breaking her will like an electric shock and she looked out the window, looked out at the lovely form of her daughter, her Katie, so hot and sexy and young and beautiful, with her tits fully exposed because, honestly, there was no way that string was going to stay in place, and she whined and pumped her pussy, three fingers turning to four fingers as she desperately, yearningly, fucked herself like a piston.
Then Katie did something, and when she did it, Anne shrieked, flung her head back, stamped the floor with her bare feet once or twice, fucked her cunt against the window, orgasmed, and fell like a rock to the carpet of her bedroom.
The sounds she uttered contained no words.
“Yim yin, yin, uhn, gah,” she whined and growled.
It is doubtful they were even meant to be words, but their meaning was clear, vivid.
XII Katie shows her mother
Katie saw her mother in the window.
Of course she did. How could she not have?
She listened, with bored amusement, to the muffled screams of her outrage shaking her insulted head and wagging her calumnied finger at her, gesticulating vehemently behind her glass wall, along with confusion, fear, loathing, and disgust, all of which were also shaking their heads and waving their arms wildly and in vain.
Katie didn’t care.
Something had happened to hear that morning, waking up with her mother’s panties next to her face, remembering the mind-altering orgasm which had swept over her in the wee hours. Her smell, her fragrance, her taste, came rushing back to her.
Yes, her taste.
She had stuck her tongue out, suddenly tempted, to taste her mother’s dry nectar, the semi-liquid vaginal drippings, so tangy and viscous. Electrified, turned on by a once-in-a-lifetime aroused subversion, she pushed the whole soft fabric in her mouth, sucking her mother’s flavors from pussy to ass while pushing her other fingers ever more deep inside her juice-slickened cunt.
She lifted her hips and jerked her fuck hole hard against her fingers as she came.
And when it was over, she lay on her side, curling to draw her knees close to her chest as she cradled her mother’s panties to her face, content and spent.
“I love you, Mommy,” said had whispered, though there was none to hear her. Except angels, maybe, gazing in awe at the human body.
Now she lay back on her lounge, soaking up the sun, and squirming her upper body enough to shake the strings loose from her boobs, letting her mother feast on her the vision of her flesh.
After all, she told herself. She showed me yesterday. She flashed me. It’s only fair that I flash her.
Then a sneaky thought, a naughty thought, a wicked, very naughty thought burst through her mind.
She showed me her pussy. That means I should show her mine.
Suppressing an urge to giggle and wink at her mother, whose face she could see through upper story window, she bent her knees towards her face, and wrapped her arms around her legs, just below the back of the knee joint. Then she carefully moved one arm to pull aside the string only nominally covering her pussy, sliding a two fingers between her suddenly wet lips as she did so, sliding them up and down, up and down several times for the benefit of her mother’s lust.
She smiled when she saw her mother teeter for a moment then fall below the level of the window.
Serves you right, she thought. After what you did to me.
XIII Anne brings a toy to Katie
Slowly Anne regained her senses and part of her composure. Enough composure, at any rate, to go to her night table and pull out the new dildo and harness she bought yesterday.
Then she slipped off her shirt and satin shorts, practically skipping downstairs in her enthusiasm to see her daughter.
Her heat was rising again. And rising fast.
XIV Anne finally gets it
Katie stretched her legs and stretched her arms out, yawning in the sun.
She heard the glass door to the house slide open and smirked at her mother walking naked as a jaybird out to the back patio. She stuck her tongue out.
Anne made a beeline toward her Katie.
Gone was any semblance of hesitation, reluctance, or even planning.
She had no use for strategy, foresight, or cunning.
She meant this to happen, and she meant this to happen now.
She needed it.
She so need this.
She knelt, squatting, her spread thighs showing of her lascivious cunt especially for Katie, just for Katie, always for Katie now, as she caressed Katie’s cheek tenderly with the back of her hand, her fingers bent as her knuckles grazed her daughter’s lovely, lovely skin.
Anne’s left hand went to her pussy. She slowly stroked between her lips, almost casually, nonchalantly, as she removed Katie’s dark glasses with her right hand.
Katie blinked in the sunlight.
“Mom!”
“Katie, look at me. I need you to do something for me. I need you to do something to me.”
Anne’s eyes drifted across Katie’s face, her face glistening golden in the sun, bronzed by so much tanning. Anne would have to get onto her later about that. And those brows. Surely girls didn’t like such think brows, nowadays?
“Is that the way your friends do their eyebrows now?”
She couldn’t help it.
She just couldn’t help it.
“Mom!”
Anne’s left hand left her pussy, she caressed Katie’s startled mouth with her fingers, gently forcing her wet fingers between Katie’s slowly parting lips. Katie, delirious, unable, unwilling, and seeing no reason to resist, immediately gave in to the lust suddenly blazing like a fire inside her.
Even five minutes ago this would have been too much, but somehow.
Somehow having her mother so close, somehow having her mother so gently caress her cheek, somehow tasting the tangy sweet juice of her mother’s cunt in her mouth, sent Katie over whatever fragile line remained in her. She greedily sucked her mother’s fingers, gazing into her mother’s deep brown eyes with her own hazel green eyes she’d got from her father.
Anne had fallen in love with Larry’s eyes, long ago, and now those same eyes were staring back at her with love, adoration, devotion, and.
Cruel mischief?
Could she do it? Could Katie really do it?
Seeing that look in her daughter’s eyes left no doubt, and she pulled her fingers from her daughter’s still sucking mouth to collect the long dildo she had dropped beside her.
“I want you to put this any me,” she explained. “I need it so bad. I need you to put this in me so bad, honey. I need you to fuck me with this. Can you do it? Please say you can do it.”
Without waiting for an answer, Anne scrambled on her hands and knees beside Katie’s deck lounge, wiggling and swaying her ass pleadingly.
She pointed to a bottle.
“There’s the lube, use plenty of it. And you’ll have to wear that. I mean, if you want to.”
Katie blinked at the harness with sudden realization.
“Oh. Em. Gee. Mom. I can’t believe.”
But Katie had seen this before, seen a dildo and harness, although she’d never worn one herself. She’d seen the movies, the videos, gone to dorm rooms filled with dorks playing video games and watching porn. Of course she had sex. Lots of it too, to be perfectly honest about it. She liked sex.
She liked casual sex. Hooking up. She knew other girls who liked it too. And she knew that there were lots of girls who didn’t. Who needed relationships.
Katie didn’t need that.
Relationships.
She’d had those in high school, about a half a dozen boyfriends or so.
In college that year, she’d had that number almost the first week. Well, the first week she started to hook up.
She heard her friends, girls in the hall, in the showers, or hanging out in the dorms, she heard them talking about their frustration, how quickly the boys came and left them wanting.
She’d never let that happen.
She’d cum, cum hard, and then she let the boys cum.
She’d learned with her six boyfriends in high school how to keep a boy excited, how to edge them, how to make them wait.
Katie held the harness up, turned it over in her hands, and carefully put the thing on, slipping the heavy black canvas straps up in legs and over her hips, tightening and buckling the straps.
She held the dildo to the mount, sighed, and removed the harness.
It was easier to get the toy into its mount before slipping the harness on.
Anne wiggled her butt.
“Pour lube all over me, dear. All over my ass. I like to feel it run down my crack.”
Oh my god, Mom. Could you be a bigger freak?
Anne shivered with anticipation when she felt the lube touch her skin, and she squeezed her asshole as the mucilaginous substance ran over her cheeks and down her ass crack. Katie poured lube generously over the magenta shaft, admiring the color and texture and size. A disorienting, powerful feeling shuddered through her as she stroked the cock, her cock, and pointed its tip towards her mother’s pussy, the vertical slit with extended lips hanging animal-like below her ass, the fat flesh of her outer labia dark and needy for a pounding.
A bitch in heat.
My mother’s a bitch in heat.
But when she touched the tip of her cock against Anne’s vulva, Anne whimpered and shook her head.
“Not there, honey. My ass, baby. I need you to fuck my ass. Fuck my asshole with your big fat cock.”
Anne closed her eyes, squeezing them shut at the intensity of pleasure filling her anal cavity, shooting up her spine, and shocking her brain with raw sexual power.
This.
This.
This is what she’d been missing, this is what she’d been needing for so long now, her daughter holding on to her hips and fucking her ass as if her life depending on it.
She’s fucking me.
She’s finally fucking my ass.
My daughter’s cock is finally in my asshole.
Anne reached her left hand up to rub her pussy, her clit, her sopping hot cunt while her daughter rammed her, at first slowly and gently, but very, very quickly building up speed, strength, and intensity, fucking her mother’s ass raw and deep, raw and deep.
Katie ran hands all over her mom’s ass, her hips, just the touching of her skin sent shockwaves of pleasure sizzling through her.
Her skin’s so hot, so soft. And I’m fucking her. I get to fuck her. She’s finally letting me fuck her.
I finally get to make love to my mother.
Needs, desires, lusts she had never felt before crashed through her system, overwhelming her psyche. Whatever restraint existed was gone now, as the constant rubbing of harness’s dildo mount on her clit began to take its effect.
She bent over her mother, leaned her tits across her mother’s back and reached around to feel and cup her mother’s boobs, so soft, so yielding, smaller than her own but oh so lovely, so nice, so wonderful. She squeezed her mother’s tits and pinched her mom’s nipples.
Then she started screaming as the building orgasm waited no longer and erupted, Vesuvius on the Pompei of her mother’s asshole.
XV Larry on Sanders
Larry tossed the car keys into the oblong platter Anne had set out for him. He slipped off his shoes and padded to the kitchen.
“Honey?” he said. “You’ll never guess what Sanders just said to me as I was leaving the office. Honey?”
He roamed the house, varying the theme of “Honey?” with “Baby?” and even “Darl?”, but still he received no answer. He caught movement outside, saw his daughter and wife goofing around near the pool, slid the door open and stepped partially outside.
“Honey, you’ll never believe what that Sanders said to me as I was getting ready to leave the office.”
Anne didn’t answer, Larry furled his eyes, puzzled. Then he understood. His wife was busy. He really shouldn’t be disturbing her.
“Never mind,” he said. “I’ll tell you later when you have a moment. Sorry about that.”
XVI Darrel in his room
Darrel lay back in his bed, listening to death metal blaring through is earbuds into his head, beating his mind senseless with guttural rage, thumping bass lines, pounding drums, and distorted guitar.
He held his phone above his face, going through all his apps.
His phone had been acting really weird lately, screens failed to deploy, his browser was slow, apps wouldn’t run. He couldn’t use his text with any degree of confidence in how the message would come out. The thing was well and truly fucked. He’d have to reset it to factory settings, and he really didn’t want to do that. So, he figured he’d go through his apps one by one, getting rid of anything he didn’t need.
Games he never played, reader apps he never used, hookup apps he was ostensibly too young for.
Then he saw it.
He frowned in confusion, trying to remember when he installed it. A fog seemed to have settled over his mind recently. Everything at home seemed to happen in a daze, a weird mist covering his family and even the objects in his home. Suddenly he remembered it.
It was a cheap knock-off of the real thing, but it was free.
Given a star and a half and dozens of warnings by reviewers, but what the hell it was free.
So he downloaded it, customized the settings and let it run.
But nothing had happened.
Not one fucking thing had happened, and a couple of days later he’d even forgotten he installed it.
He just stopped caring, to be honest.
At least about anything happening at home.
Everything was bullshit anyway better just to ignore it all.
So he did.
Darrel sat up and opened the app settings, wondering if he’d done everything right.
He checked family for the app target. He didn’t want to use it on his Friends and saw no benefit in selecting Strangers. So that just left Family.
Why not? It’d be funny.
Sibling?
Hell no.
Parent/child?
Oh, how weird would that be? He could change it later, if his mom got really bizarre.
The thought of getting a blowjob by her.
Kind of gross and perverted, but oddly.
Well. He was a teenage guy. Of course it gave him a boner.
Everything gave him a boner.
Or everything used to.
Now that he thought about it, he’d not jerked off in. Days. Weeks. He didn’t even get those woodies in the morning.
Straight?
Gay/Lesbian?
Other?
Lesbian, obviously. He’d love to see his mother with another woman, love to fuck some a neighbor in front of his mother.
Watch his mother ride her face while he fucked Mrs. Carmichael’s hot snatch.
I mean, now that his mind was going there.
Anal?
Well. Here he hesitated.
Sure. You only live once.
Suppress rest of household?
Naturally. He didn’t want his sister or father noticing anything.
Speed of change?
Instantaneous? Days? Weeks?
Darrel couldn’t decide, so he left the default setting on Two Weeks.
The Frequency setting had stumped him.
Continual? Bursts? Manual? Random?
He clicked Random.
Then he had clicked Update Settings and Run App.
He clicked Uninstall on the app and read the warning pop-up.
“Are you sure you want to uninstall? Uninstalling app while cycle in progress may cause sudden and extreme reactions on targets.”
What cycle? What targets?
Darrel was just about to click Go Ahead and Uninstall when a wave of boredom, of outright ennui, overcame him.
The death metal blasted in his ears, and suddenly he didn’t give a shit about his phone.
Leave the fucking app running.
Let the fucking Masturb-EZ app run forever if it wanted to.
He’d ask his mom for a new phone later.
Or his dad.
His mom seemed strangely preoccupied lately.