The Chaperone Blues

Author's Comment: Life can be a time when everything is pretty much routine, and you've figured out pretty much what you think the world is like and...what you're like. And then something comes along to shake that world view up and everything just goes to hell in a hand basket. That's what this story tries to catch the flavor of.

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Chapter One

Claire Richardson was excited as she boarded the school bus. She didn't

take the time to examine that feeling, even though she was thirty-three

years old and was on her way to a high school football tournament. She

just enjoyed the thrills that were coursing through her body as she

bounced up the steps and entered a tiny world of controlled chaos. The

noise hit her like a falling wall as she turned the corner to face

fifty-some-odd students, all of whom seemed to be shouting at the top

of their lungs. Most of them were boys, a few of whom she knew because

her son, Bobby, had brought them to the house for one meal or another,

or because they had dated her daughter, Lori.

No one seemed to notice her at first, though, whether they knew her or

not. The boys were thinking about the upcoming games. The girls were

clustered in little groups that cheerleaders always seemed to sort

themselves into. They weren't exactly cliques, because the girls were a

team of sorts too, but they had natural tendencies to hang with the

other girls who were most like them.

Had Claire stopped to examine the feelings coursing through her body,

she might have recognized them as being remarkably like sexual

feelings. She might have noticed that her panties were a little damp

and that her nipples had spiked through the cream colored silk blouse

she should have known better than to wear to a sporting event weekend.

But she hadn't had time to change after work. She was dressed for

business—a charcoal wool skirt clinging to her hips, making

the jut of her breasts seem larger than they actually were.

She wasn't ignored for long.

Had Claire examined the faces of all those teenagers, she might have

noticed that a lot of the boys' eyes lingered on her as she waded

slowly through the crowd, lugging her bag behind her, looking for her

own children. Or she might have noticed the frowns of some of the girls

as THEY noticed who the boys were looking at with that look in their

eyes that made the girls get wary and careful.

But it had been a long time since Claire had been in an atmosphere

charged so heavily with teen hormones and the spirit of impending

"combat," and she'd forgotten how it affected a person. She'd shut away

her own feelings for the last ten years, after her husband had said

that two screaming kids wasn't what he had in mind for his future.

Back when Claire was in high school, she had fought off all the boys,

looking to her future and wanting to save her virginity for the man she

just knew would sweep her off her feet. It was made that much more

difficult by the fact that she was a cheerleader. She resisted men in

college too, until the team won a big game and a frat on campus threw

them a victory party. She had perhaps one too many wine coolers that

night.

The star of the game was a boy named Denny  who had convinced

her to give him a victory kiss. Denny's kisses had set her on fire. Her

resolve to stay a virgin seeped away like the fluid in her wine cooler

when it was knocked over as he pulled her up. The next thing she knew,

she was lying on a bed with him in a darkened room.

And it HAD been glorious. She hadn't had any idea how wonderful a stiff

penis would feel stroking the walls of her vagina and scraping along

her enflamed clit. Her almost instant addiction to that feeling had led

to her lying naked under him time and again. He’d knocked her

up while they were both sophomores in college, and she'd agreed to

marry him even though she liked several other boys more. She'd wanted

to believe they were in love and nothing either of their parents had

said against the marriage had sunk in.

And, truth be told, things hadn't been so bad at first. But when he'd

gotten her pregnant again within a year, and the money troubles had

started, and he'd had to take two jobs, and couldn't party with his

buddies, he'd thrown in the towel. Claire had been left to finish

college and raise Lori and Bobby by herself, with a little help from

her parents now and then.

So SHE was the one who had to take three jobs and forego dating or any

social relationships outside her jobs. And her determination had

finally led her to find something she was good at. She'd taken an entry

level job at a bank and had eventually worked her way up to being the

manager of the loan department. Her single-minded devotion to her two

children had resulted in success in the business world and a

comfortable living for them all. But it was at the cost of her social

life, as she deflected the well meaning...and some

not-so-well-meaning…advances of the men she ran into in that

business world.

She knew she was beautiful and desirable. She cultivated that

appearance, because it had helped her succeed in the banking business.

She was aware that she was attractive and that people—both

men and women—saw her as a sexual being, but she viewed that

side of her as a tool, used only to seal a deal and not to pursue

personal enjoyment. Her fingers did for her what she thought her body

needed occasionally. She had grown so used to the convenience of being

able to grab a quick orgasm now and then that she had unconsciously

held herself aloof from any relationships with a man that might have

been vastly more satisfying.

It was almost an accident that she’d met Coach Bondurant, or

"Chuck" as he demanded she call him. She knew he was her son's football

coach, because Bobby talked about him like he was a legend. So, when he

applied for a loan to buy a house in Hillsdale, where she lived, and

his file was brought to her for approval, she’d decided to

meet him in person.

That he was five years younger than she was something she noticed but

didn't dwell on. He had a good job and, as far as she could tell, was

good at that job, so she had approved the loan. Having been turned down

by two other banks, his thanks had been effusive, and her casual, "You

coach my son Bobby," had generated praise for her as a mother.

That was what made her give him another look. Being a mother was her

pride and joy.

And that look had turned into a chat, and that chat had resulted in his

solicitation for her to be a sponsor for the regional championships

that the team was going to attend. When he explained that the team,

along with their supporting cheerleaders, would be staying in a motel

for several nights, and that adults were needed to chaperone them, and

that the cheerleading coach was eight months pregnant and couldn't go,

and that he was having a hard time getting a female to agree to come

along for the ride, Claire made one of those snap decisions that she

had learned to trust.

She agreed to do it.

There had been little time to plan or think about things before it was

time to pack her bag and get in her Lexus to drive to the school. Bobby

and Lori had already made arrangements and were already gone as she

backed out of the driveway and drove to Hillsdale High School. She was

thinking about trips SHE had taken as a cheerleader almost twenty years

ago. She had seen what some of the cheerleaders did with the players

when adults weren't watching and she knew well what football players

were like. "Denny the Derailer," her former husband, was a linebacker

who had battered down her defenses as effectively as he battered down

the defenses around the quarterbacks he sacked.

She hadn't thought about Denny for a long time, moving on with her

life. He dropped a card to the kids once in a while, but neither of

them had ever seen him once they got old enough to remember him. They

knew who he was, but had no real feeling for him. The three of

them—Claire and her two children—had poured all of

their affection into their little family.

Maybe it was the memory of that wild night when she lost her

virginity...and got pregnant with Bobby…that re-awoke the

emotions coursing through her as she boarded the bus that day. If so,

she wasn't aware that she was excited in the same way she'd been

excited that fateful night so long ago. All she knew was that she was

excited and she was having fun BEING excited. There hadn't been much

excitement in her life for a long time.

At any rate, as she bumped and jostled her way down the aisle of the

bus, pushing past students, looking for her children, she looked like

she felt. She was a woman who made the boys turn their heads toward

her, admiring the thrust of her breasts through the silk blouse,

including the prominent nipples that pushed through her thin Victoria's

Secret bra.

She saw Bobby and Lori sitting together in a seat toward the back of

the bus and an even warmer feeling raced through her. They were talking

to each other animatedly, obviously fond of each other, and that made

her feel good. So many brothers and sisters fought constantly, but that

was something she didn't have to put up with.

And there were other students involved with them, leaning over the back

of the seat in front of them or standing beside them. They were

obviously popular. It made her feel successful as a parent.

Lori saw her first and smiled widely as she waved. She stood up and

called out, "Hi Mom!"

As Lorie's voice pierced the cacophony of sound, teenagers looked to

see Claire making her way slowly toward them. She heard one boy say,

"That's your mom? Wow!"

That simple comment, made by a boy young enough to be her son, caused

Claire to blush. The compliment that from an older man would have been

shrugged off as normal jarred her into thinking about her

attractiveness in a different way than she usually did. There was a

strange mix of emotions that flooded through her as she thought briefly

about the irony of the fact that a mere boy's positive appraisal of her

appearance meant something to her, while the same thing from a man

would have been deflected like a poorly thrown pass.

"Mom!"

Claire's eyes darted to her daughter's face, which was showing a mix of

surprise and embarrassment. Lori was looking at her mother's breasts.

Claire looked down and saw immediately what Lori was embarrassed about.

Claire had very prominent nipples most of the time, and they were

advertising their presence plainly.

The woman in her was proud of them. The mother in her immediately

recognized that her daughter would think she was improperly dressed.

Never mind the fact that Lori had inherited her mother's nipples and

that she often showed hers off too. What Lori thought was fine for

herself did not apply to her mother.

"Sorry," said Claire to her daughter. She looked at Bobby who was also

staring at her chest interestedly. There wasn't anything she could do

about it now. If she covered the tips of her breasts it would only draw

more attention to them and she was used to men staring, so she decided

to tough it out. "I'll change when we get there," she said.

"I would hope so," said Lori, looking around. She counted at least five

boys who were staring at her mother. The look on their faces was just

like when they stared at her or one of the other girls. She was aware

on a cerebral level that an "older woman" could be a turn on for a

younger man, and she knew her mother was beautiful, but the emotions

she felt at that moment were distinctly uncomfortable.  It was

odd to think of her mother as potential competition. At the same time,

with the certainty of all young women, Lori was sure that she was more

desirable than any older woman could be.  "Never mind. I'm

being silly. You want to sit with us?"

That sent another shot of warmth through Claire as her children, rather

than being standoffish that their mother was there, welcomed her. There

wasn't any place nearby to put her bag, but a boy offered to put it in

the back with the other luggage, which was piled high on the last two

rows of seats.

By the time she sat down, Claire Richardson was an overflowing jumble

of emotions, almost all of them pleasurable. She was immediately

surrounded by boys who, for some reason, wanted to talk to her

children. It made her feel young again.

At least until all the kids started calling her "Mrs. Richardson." That

brought her back to earth pretty quickly. But even then it was obvious

she was being accepted by the kids, and that made her feel almost as

good.

She had barely settled in, squeezing Bobby and Lori up against the

window of the bus, when Coach Bondurant got on the bus. He called the

roll and, when he had decided everyone who was supposed to be there

was, he introduced her.

"Mrs. Richardson has kindly agreed to chaperone this trip," he

announced. "I know you won't give her any hassles ... RIGHT?!" A chorus

of “RIGHT” was yelled out in that tone of voice

that kids all use to let adults know they've said something stupid,

even though they are expected to agree with it. Coach Bondurant went

on. "AND, just so we all understand each other, Mrs. Richardson was a

cheerleader when she was in high school, so she knows all the tricks.

Don't think you're going to be able to game her, because you aren't."

Claire wanted to giggle when there was a softer chorus of sighs that

clearly indicated some hopes had been dashed, both male and female. The

coach waved her forward and, as she left, she heard a boy whisper

behind her. "Man Bobby, your mother is HOT!"

There was a smack, as of a hand on an arm perhaps, and Lori yipped,

"Shut UP Thomas!"

Claire just grinned and went up to talk with the Coach. He had saved a

seat for them, it turned out, because he’d assumed she'd want

to sit with him rather than the students. As she sat down she saw that

his eyes were fastened firmly where every other male's eyes had been.

He looked up and caught her...catching him.

He blushed. "Sorry," he said. Then he smiled. "But I'm normal I guess.

I hope you won't hold it against me."

He sounded so sincere that she decided not to react as she normally

would have reacted. "I suppose I could give you another chance," she

said. "I didn't have time to change into something more appropriate."

"Thank you," he said and, to her surprise, he sounded like he meant it.

"Sit down and I'll show you the schedule and go over the expectations

of the school board.”

It never occurred to Claire that his thanks might be for more than just

... another chance.

He hauled out a thick three ring binder and flipped it open to a list

of rules and policies that the board expected the team to follow on

trips like this one. He was all business now.

"You can read over these in the room tonight, or as we drive if you

want," he said.

Then he launched into explaining a matrix of lines with names beside

them of all the schools that would be playing at the tournament,

explaining how losses and wins affected lines that didn't have anything

beside them. Claire began to remember how things worked and soon they

were chatting about their chances of advancing and his tactical plans.

Claire loved football. It was one of the few sporting events she

followed and watched on TV. That her children were like-minded made

their weekends full of sports, both inside and out of the house. The

bus started off and the noise level abated somewhat as kids began to

cluster into smaller groups and have their own discussions.

"So, other than enforcing the rules, what am I supposed to do?" asked

Claire.

The bus was bounding along on an uneven road now and she saw Chuck's

eyes drawn again and again to what she felt bouncing up and down on her

chest. To his credit he tore his eyes away from her breasts again and

again, looking at the book or at her face. She thought his attempts to

make good his "second chance" were cute. He appeared to be trying to be

a gentleman, at least.

"Well, really, it mostly amounts to making sure the kids don't let

their emotions get away from them...off the field," he said. "I mean

they're kids and they do what kids have always done if they get the

chance." His eyes strayed to her bouncing breasts once again.

Claire laughed. "Well, if they're in separate rooms that shouldn't be

so hard.”

Chuck didn't smile. "The boys know that breaking curfew will get them

benched, but the girls sometimes don't care about that and try to sneak

into the boys' rooms. And, of course, the boys who AREN'T involved

won't rat them out to the coach, so we have to keep our eyes peeled."

"Are there really that many problems?" asked Claire.

"You were a cheerleader. Were there problems back then?" asked Chuck,

not knowing her history, but assuming that such a beautiful and

successful woman would not have any skeletons in the closet.

Her response was confusing to him. First she took in a breath and

didn't breathe it back out. Then she blushed. Then her mouth opened and

closed several times. Finally she stammered, "I see what you mean." It

left him wondering about her past, but he didn't ask any questions.

"We'll try to put their rooms as far from each other as we can," he

said. “Sometimes we don't have much choice in the matter."

The rest of the trip—several hours—was spent in

light conversation, during which both adults developed a respect for

each other that didn't surprise them...and an attraction that did.

The coach's words were prophetic, in ways he couldn't have dreamed. It

turned out that all the other schools had arrived already. Several had

taken more rooms than they had originally booked and, based on Chuck's

preliminary room diagram, they were two rooms short at check-in. The

motel manager was apologetic, blaming his staff for overbooking the

motel. He called three other places in town, but if they went that

route the team would be scattered all over the place. Fire codes

prohibited more than a set number of people being lodged in a room and,

as they pored over the paper map the manager produced, it became clear

that there would be one female and one male student left over after all

the rooms were assigned. And that didn't take into account either Chuck

or Claire.

Oddly, the solution was offered by Lori, who came to the desk after

being chosen by the team to find out why they were all standing around.

When she found out the problem she said simply, "Why don't we put Bobby

and me and you and Coach in one room?"

Chuck looked at Claire and she stared back. It wasn't perfect, but it

was a lot better than either of them had come up with. It was agreed

that it was the best fix to the problem.

The manager was all smiles then, until it was determined that, in one

of the rooms, there was a bed missing. Investigation revealed that one

bed had been broken the night before, so badly that it couldn't be used

any longer, and the maintenance staff had removed it. The remaining bed

was a queen sized bed, but it wouldn't sleep four.

Everybody else was assigned a room and told to return to the bus at a

time specified for supper. In the meantime the manager scurried around,

looking for another bed. He came back looking unsure of how his news

would be received.

"The best I can do is provide a mattress and linens" said the harried

innkeeper. "I realize it would amount to little more than a pallet on

the floor. I'm sorry, but there's nothing else I can do."

"Don't you have a roll-away or something?" asked Claire.

"I'm really sorry, but they're all taken," said the man. It became

obvious that he had put more people in some rooms than the fire code

allowed, but wasn't willing to admit it.

Claire looked at her children and Coach Bondurant. "What do you think?"

she asked helplessly.

Chuck said, "I'll sleep on the floor. It's no big deal."

The manager fidgeted. He made it obvious he had other things to do.

Claire, used to being in charge of things, said, "OK, we'll work it out

somehow. Let's just get in the room before somebody else comes along

and takes it." She gave a dark look at the manager, who just shrugged

his shoulders.

"Of course we'll give you a discount," said the manager.

"I would hope so!" barked Claire.

When they got to the room a motel worker was already dragging in the

mattress that would go on the floor. It was only a double.

"We can't fit two people on that!" complained Claire. She remembered

what it had been like in college, when she and Denny had shared such a

bed. Back then it had been romantic, but this was a different situation.

Once again it was Lori who suggested a solution.

"Look, Bobby and I could fit on that. His stinky feet will hang over

probably, but then they won't be under the covers where their smell

will keep me awake." She grinned as her brother gave her a gentle

shove. "There's plenty of room in the big one for two people to sleep

and not run into each other."

Claire wasn't overjoyed about this fix. "Couldn't Bobby and the coach

sleep in the big bed?" she asked.

"Mom," said Lori with exaggerated patience. "You wouldn't be

comfortable sleeping on the floor and you know it. Bobby and I can

share the little bed. Like coach said, it's no big deal."

"But still, you two would have to be right next to each other," said

their mother.

"That's OK," said Lori. "He's not so bad."

Chuck spoke up. "How about if Bobby, and your mother and I slept in the

queen? That would leave the smaller bed for Lori. Bobby could sleep in

the middle."

Bobby laughed. "I like you coach, but not that much. I don't think I

could sleep rubbing up against a man. I mean Lori's my sister, but I'd

rather bump into her than a man."

And so it was decided. There would be a male and female in each bed. By

then it was time for supper and they didn't have time to argue about it

anymore. Claire couldn't even think about it as she tried to get

through the pandemonium of feeding in excess of fifty kids, while

busloads of kids from other schools competed for available seats and

food.

By the time the screaming kids piled out in the motel parking lot and

began to straggle toward their rooms, Claire was so tired she didn't

care who she slept with. She and Lori claimed the bathroom first.

Claire sat on the commode while Lori showered and they talked about

things in general. Then Lori dried her hair while Claire stood under

the warm water. That water suddenly started going cold and she had to

shut it off as she got goose bumps all over her body. She got out of

the shower and dried off hastily, putting on the silk pajamas she'd

brought to sleep in, not dreaming she'd have to sleep with anyone.

She looked up to find Lori staring at her. "Aren't you going to wear a

bra to bed?" asked her daughter. Claire looked in the mirror and saw

that she hadn't dried her body all that well and the cold had spiked

her nipples again. They were making two damp points in the thin silk of

her pajamas.

"I hate to wear bras to bed," she complained.

"Well Coach will love you in that outfit," said Lori.

"Coach will be gentleman enough to ignore me," said Claire.

"I wouldn't bet on that if I were you," said Lori. "I can't believe my

own mother looks sexy in pajamas!"

Claire looked at Lori, who was wearing a white T shirt and panties.

Claire could see her daughter's dark nipples through the shirt.

"You don't have much room to talk," she said. "You aren't wearing a bra

either, and you don't look so shabby yourself in that. Surely you

aren't going to let coach Bondurant see you in just panties."

"I thought I'd be staying in a room with girls, Mom. I didn't bring

things to wear for bed around men!"

"Well you can't just show a strange man your panties," said the mother

in Claire. "Wait here."

Claire went into the room and asked the two men if either of them had

an extra pair of boxer shorts or gym shorts that Lori could wear. Bobby

dug through his suitcase and pulled out a pair which he threw to his

mother.

As far as Claire was concerned, the shorts didn’t help all

that much. Her daughter was growing up and was beautiful.

"You're still going to make their eyes bug out in that outfit," she

said.

Lori laughed. "This old thing?" She giggled some more. "Coach will be

so busy looking at you he won't even notice I'm there."

By the time Lori had helped her dry her hair and pull it back into a

pony tail, Claire's nipples had softened and weren't so pronounced. She

felt much better about going out into the room, where she planned on

getting under the covers as quickly as possible.

She wasn't prepared for the change in temperature between the bathroom,

with its fogged mirror, and the cool of the main room. By the time

she'd taken five steps into the room her nipples were again proudly

poking out.

Lori was almost correct. When the two women walked into the room, both

men looked at them. Chuck's eyes were, in fact, riveted on Claire,

though he glanced at Lori, too, several times, his eyes looking like he

was at a tennis match. He settled for looking at the ceiling. He and

Bobby had been watching TV. He stayed in his chair and told Bobby to go

on and take his shower.

"There's no hot water left," warned Claire. "It ran out in the middle

of my shower."

The men took it like men and dashed in and then out of the shower

quickly. Both wore gym shorts and T shirts to bed.

It was odd being in bed with another person at all, much less a strange

man. Claire's emotions, which had already been on high alert, built

even more. She couldn't sleep. As she lay there trying not to make any

noise in the semi-dark, her eyes adjusted to the light from the parking

lot coming in through the thin drapes over the motel windows. Her mind

flitted here and there, remembering things. She could feel heat

emanating from Chuck, even though there was a chaste fold of blanket

gathered between them. It took her ten minutes to realize she

was...horny.

It took her ten more minutes to realize she wasn't going to get to

sleep unless she did something about it.

Ever so slowly, she slipped her right hand down her stomach and under

the waistband of her silk pajama bottoms. Her senses were heightened

and anticipation made her tense as she felt the first strands of her

pubes on her fingertips. She almost couldn't suppress a sigh as her

finger split her labia, which were stuck together with the proof of her

excitement, and her fingertip slid onto her engorged clit. She spread

her legs automatically and her right leg bumped Chuck.

She froze.

Listening, she realized she could hear the smallest

sounds—Chuck’s slow breathing, the rustle of bed

clothes from the makeshift bed her children were in, as they moved in

their sleep, voices from outside somewhere, and the sighing of air as

the wall unit under the window tried to pump warm air into the room.

Hearing nothing that caused her to believe she'd be discovered, Claire

pressed with her index finger on the little bump that was her ticket to

sleep. She rolled her fingertip in a circle, playing with the

protrusion, and felt the thrills shoot through her that always came

when she mauled the little lump of flesh. She went slowly, enjoying the

way her passion built as she played with herself.

She was perhaps halfway to her orgasm when she heard Lori's almost

silent whisper.

"Bobby! Not now! Mom's right there!"

Claire froze again. Very slowly she turned her head. Her hair was in

her face and she was afraid to lift her hand from under the covers to

remove it. She could see through one eye the heap of covers that were

her children. It was moving. There was a little sighing moan that was

in a voice too deep to be her daughter's.

"Please?" came Bobby's voice in a whisper.

"You'll wake up Mom," came the whisper of her daughter. "You want her

to know what we do?"

"Nooo," moaned Bobby. "We won't wake her up if we're careful. You know

how hard she sleeps. Pleeease? I'm sooo horny."

What Bobby was referring to was the fact that, most nights, Claire took

a sleeping pill. Her work was demanding on an emotional level, and the

pill ensured that she'd get a good night's sleep to face the next day.

But this night she hadn't taken the pill. She hadn't thought it would

be necessary.

There was silence, broken by the sound of what was most likely a kiss.

It sounded like a long, wet kiss. Claire couldn't believe what she was

hearing. Her own children? Kissing? And quite likely more than that?!

Lori's voice still came in a whisper, but it was a breathy one, as if

she were breathing hard. "Do you have a rubber?"

"In my suitcase," was Bobby's equally breathy reply. "But I can't get

up and get it. It would wake her up for sure," he moaned.

"Mmmmm that feels good," sighed Lori. "But you know we shouldn't do it

without a condom."

"Wouldn't you like something more than just my finger?" he whispered.

"We shouldn't do it without a condom," repeated Lori. Now it was

obvious that she was breathing hard. Claire could hear her deep rapid

breaths in the quiet of the room.

"Just this once?" pleaded Bobby.

"You always say just this once," said Lori.

But Claire could hear in her voice that Lori was going to let her

brother do it. She was going to let her brother slide his stiff young

prick into her teenaged pussy, where it would spurt long sticky ropes

of his potent teenaged sperm into her womb.

Chapter Two

Claire tensed the muscles in her abdomen and took a breath, preparing

to sit up and stop them. But she froze when her hand got caught in her

pajama bottoms. She was astonished to find that she had continued to

rub her clit as the scene unfolded beside her.

Then she thought about the uproar that would result if she yelled.

Chuck would surely wake up, and then she'd have to explain to him what

was going on. She relaxed and pulled her hand out of her pajamas, her

mind racing. What should she do? Her head turned and she felt light

headed as she saw the lump that was the covers under which her children

were supposed to be sleeping move. It humped up as Bobby obviously

climbed on top of his sister.

Again she took a breath to yell ... scream ... do SOMETHING. But she

couldn't embarrass the children in front of the coach, not to speak of

the embarrassment SHE would feel, too. She realized she was still

holding her breath and let it out in a whoosh.

"What was that?" whispered Lori's voice.

Claire had a flash of inspiration. If she got up and went to the

bathroom, they'd stop. Then she could make noise...toss and turn...like

she was having a hard time getting back to sleep. If she did it long

enough, they'd surely give up this crazy idea.

Lori's voice came again. It was a drawn out "mmmmmm" sound that Claire

recognized as having made herself, on numerous occasions when Denny's

cock had slid into her pussy. Bobby groaned softly too. He had

obviously just pushed his hard adolescent penis into his sister's

pussy. Claire saw the covers move as Bobby thrust hard into Lori.

Claire sat up. She flung the covers off of her legs and swung her feet

toward the children. The covers stopped moving and Claire heard both

her children gasp. Claire stood up and padded around the bed and into

the bathroom. She stood there in the dark for a minute until she

realized they would expect the door to close and the light to go on.

She closed the door. They had stopped. Her plan was working.

Claire almost didn't remember to flush the toilet. She stood in the

bathroom, ears straining to hear anything that might come through the

door. It had been useless, though, and, with a start, she realized she

didn't know how long she'd been in there. She turned off the light and

went blind immediately. Opening the door, Claire put her hands out and

stepped, groping in front of her, into the room. She knew roughly where

the space was between the beds. She had to go around the one she and

Chuck were sharing—he was on the side closest to the

bathroom—and she bent over to feel for the edge of the bed.

Her hands fluttered along the covers and onto Chuck's feet. She jerked

them away instantly, then reestablished contact with the bed and worked

her way around it. Her eyes still hadn't adjusted to the dark, so she

couldn't see the lump that had been her son on top of her daughter.

She didn't hear anything, though.

She slipped back into bed, trying to make enough noise to frighten her

children, but not wake up Chuck.

It almost worked.

As she settled onto her side, so she could see the children when her

night vision returned, Chuck rolled. His arm draped across her body and

his hand fell to the bed beside her left breast. Claire tensed up,

getting ready to rebuff this man's obvious pass at her.

She felt Chuck's hot breath blow against the back of her neck in a long

drawn out sigh. He stopped moving.

Claire realized she was holding her breath again. She let it out slowly

and tuned her body to feel what Chuck's was doing. The only real

contact between them was his arm draped across hers. He was breathing

deeply and slowly. He must have just turned in his sleep.

But now Claire had a problem. If she moved, she'd wake him up for sure.

She was, for all intents and purposes, trapped.

Slowly, her sight returned to her and she looked at the mattress on the

floor. They were still now. Her plan had worked. Strangely comforted by

Chuck's arm draped over her, she drifted into a troubled sleep.

Claire's eyes snapped open perhaps an hour later. There had been a

noise of some sort. Chuck was fully spooning her now, his breath still

slow and soft in her hair. There was a female whimper from the pallet

next to the bed. Claire could see quite well now, from the light coming

in around the drapes that were not completely covering the windows.

The lump in the covers over her children looked much too tall to have

been made by only one body. And it was moving.

They were doing it again!

Claire lay there helplessly as she heard Bobby assure his sister that

their mother was asleep again, and heard the quiet mewling sounds that

communicated that Lori was having a wonderful time.

Then, to her dismay, she heard the little grunting sounds from Bobby's

throat that she somehow knew meant his penis was

spurting…inside Lori...without a condom to contain it or

protect Lori from pregnancy.

Claire didn't know what to do. She was used to making momentous

decisions at work every day, decisions that had the potential for

changing the world. But in this situation she felt helpless. She knew

she should have stopped them. On the other hand it was obvious this

wasn't the first time this had happened. How long had they been doing

this?

She heard Bobby's whispered "Thank you," and Lori's answering "I love

you." It sounded so heartfelt and real, just like she and Denny had

spoken to each other in moments of intimacy.

Claire couldn't believe the warm feeling in her own abdomen. It was

just too strange and bizarre. She felt a tear in her eye break free and

roll down her cheek. She couldn't decide if it was because of what her

children had just done...or because of the sudden loss she felt because

she didn't have that kind of intimacy in her life anymore.

Exhaustion finally claimed its hold on Claire's consciousness and she

fell asleep.

She woke later, having a dream about a man's hand cupping her

breast...a strong man's hand. It felt good. She smiled at her dream and

drifted back to sleep.

Claire woke to see brighter light coming in around the blinds and

drapes that covered the windows of the room. The first thing she

thought of was that Chuck's arm was still over her, pinning her to the

bed. Then she felt his hand—his strong, manly

hand—cupping her left breast. He was still breathing slowly

and deeply, asleep.

She moved and he snorted, his hand closing tighter on her breast. Then,

Claire heard his breathing cease, and there were two tentative little

squeezes, as he realized just where his hand was and what it was

cupping.

The hand darted away from her and he lifted his head.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

Claire had just remembered what she had seen and heard the night

before—her children…making love.

"It was an accident," she whispered back. "Don't worry about it."

Chuck rolled away from her and out of the bed. As he headed for the

bathroom Claire looked at him. The front of his shorts was tented

outward. Denny's penis had been like that in the mornings. He had

called it his "morning wood." Quite often, when he came back from the

bathroom on those mornings, it was still hard. He loved to fuck in the

morning.

Claire realized her pussy was wet. Her emotions, which had abated

during sleep, surged again.

==========================

It was a rough day for Claire. She dressed in a khaki blouse and skirt

outfit she thought was cute, and she was right. All day men stared at

her, whether they were adults or young men her son's age. The fact that

she now knew her son was sexually active made her look at those young

men in a different light. Each of them, she realized, had the capacity

to climb between her legs and scratch the itch that she had felt all

morning and couldn't seem to suppress. At one point she went to the

girls' bathroom and locked herself in a stall, masturbating frantically

to ease her desire.

But all that did was get her hotter.

She was tense all day. It didn't help that she was around Chuck most of

the day, helping him with the record keeping and running errands for

him. She caught herself looking at his trim, athletic body. It was hard

and she just KNEW he'd be good in bed. She shook her head, trying to

shake those thoughts from her mind. He was her son's coach! And,

despite there only being five years between them, she couldn't help but

look at him as much younger than herself.

"What am I thinking?" she berated herself.

She tried to keep an eye on her children too. Every time she saw them

together—which was more often than she would have thought

before last night—they were smiling, happy children, as

normal looking as all the others around them. They didn't hang on each

other, but they didn't avoid each other either.

They just looked...normal.

By contrast, there were other kids who bickered and fought. In most

cases it seemed like the normal everyday interaction of teenagers who

were in competition with each other. She noticed one boy—a

redhead—and a girl with long blond hair, who were angry with

each other about something and acidic in their statements to one

another. The blond, at one point, was hanging on another boy when a

brown-haired cheerleader girl stalked up and pushed the blond away. The

brunette yelled at the redheaded boy.

"Tell your slut sister to stay away from my boyfriend!"

The redhead waved a hand. "She doesn't listen to me. What do you expect

from a slut anyway?"

"Well THAT brother and sister don't cuddle in bed...that's for sure,"

Claire said to herself. She couldn't help but compare those angry

siblings to her own loving children.

It bothered her.

She wanted her children to love each other...but they loved each other

TOO much.

Didn't they?

And it didn't appear to hamper their performance either. Bobby played

well and helped the team win their first game. Lori was the picture

perfect cheerleader, exhorting the spectators to yell and chant and

celebrate each positive aspect of the game. She was bright and happy

and full of vim and vigor.

Claire realized she was slumping as she watched her daughter. "I might

be full of energy too if I'd gotten my ashes hauled as well as it

looked like YOU did last night," she muttered to the girl who couldn't

possibly hear her.

"Say what?" asked Chuck, turning to her.

"Oh!" she blushed. "Nothing. I was just talking to myself."

"Tell yourself hi for me." He grinned. "And mention to yourself that

you look really nice today."

He looked back at his team as Claire blushed even more. She was horny

the rest of the day.

==========================

That night after supper, Bobby and Lori wanted to go socialize with

their friends. Curfew wasn't until nine, so Claire told them to have

fun. When they bounded out of the door she wondered what form that fun

might take.

"You're really good with your kids," said Chuck, looking up from his

playbook. "I mean you've raised great kids."

Pleasure flushed through Claire at the compliment. It was replaced by

fear that Chuck would somehow find out someday the secret she had

discovered the night before.

He closed the book and slid it under the mattress. "We'd better go see

what the kids are doing," he announced.

Claire jerked, thinking of just her kids...and what they might be doing

somewhere. Then she realized he wasn't talking about HER kids.

"Yes," she said.

They went together, moving along the hallways, stopping at the rooms

listed on Chuck's sheet. In all cases where the door was closed, only

boys or girls were behind it. And, in all cases where they found boys

and girls together, the door was open as the rules required.

They found Bobby in one room, playing Texas Hold Em. Lori was in

another room where boys and girls were dancing to loud music.

Claire didn't know whether to be happy or not. She was beginning to

think she had dreamed the whole incident. Her children acted so normal

she couldn't accept that there was something wrong with them.

Claire and Chuck spent an hour chatting with various kids and being

flirted with. Claire noticed that a lot of the girls got all goo

goo-eyed when the coach talked to them, unconsciously thrusting their

breasts out, or playing with their hair, making little grooming

motions. At the same time she felt the eyes of the boys on her. It was

an almost palpable, caressing feeling and it didn't help her horny

state.

By the time they got back to the room Claire felt like she needed to

change her panties.

Chuck went into the bathroom and got his shower first, since there had

been no hot water the night before. He came out in his shorts, his

shirt in his hand. Claire had been lying propped up on the bedspread,

reading a book she'd brought along and she looked up, over her reading

glasses. She felt a flutter in her pussy. He was a hunk. No doubt about

it. His chest was heavy with muscle and her fingers played with the

pages of the book as if they were stroking those muscles.

Chuck had been running his hand through his damp hair and saw her

looking at him. He held the shirt up in front of his naked chest.

"Sorry," he said. "I was thinking about the game." He pulled the shirt

over his head as Claire stared at his flat, muscled abdomen.

Chuck smiled. "I wanted to thank you again for coming along. I really

couldn't do this without you."

What went through Claire's mind was something else he really couldn't

do without her...or at least without a woman. She felt her face get hot.

He didn't notice. "And I wanted to apologize again for what happened

last night. I really don't make a habit of groping strange women in

bed."

Claire remembered the feel of his hand on her breast. It had been a

long, long time since she'd felt that. Her face got hotter. She tried

to dismiss the feeling.

"Forget it. You probably don't make a habit of even SLEEPING with

strange women in your bed." It didn't come out quite like what she'd

thought it would. Her classification of the bed as "his" made her pussy

flutter again.

"Well," he said, reaching under the mattress for the play book, "you're

right about that. I haven't had time to do anything except teach and

coach. I guess I shouldn't be too surprised that when a beautiful woman

shows up next to me in bed that something like that might happen."

His casual mention of her beauty came off unlike a canned pickup line

and Claire's reaction shocked her. She felt warmth in her nipples and

her pussy was suddenly wet.

"Maybe we should assign a couple of the kids to keep an eye on US," she

tried to joke. "There hasn't been a man in MY bed for over ten years."

It had come out as a joke, but it didn't sound like it to Claire's ears.

She blushed furiously. "I'm sorry, Chuck. I shouldn't have said that,"

she stammered.

"No problem," he said simply. "Not that I believe you or anything." He

sat down and opened the book.

Now what had THAT meant? wondered Claire.

The door opened and a cheerful pair of siblings came rushing in,

laughing and talking about their friends. Claire tried to keep reading,

but her eyes strayed to Bobby as Lori dashed into the bathroom,

slamming the door and crowing that she was going to use all the hot

water again.

Bobby pulled off his shirt and Claire was jolted to realize that her

son was in awfully good shape too. He wasn't as heavily muscled as

Chuck, but the muscles were all there, in the same places. Bobby bent

over and dug into his suitcase. Whatever he found was small, because

when his hand came out it didn't appear to be holding anything, even

though it was cupped. Bobby shot a look at his mother, whose eyes

appeared to be on the words in the book. He wandered over to the bed he

shared with his sister and sat down. Claire saw his hand dart under one

of the pillows. When it came out it was obviously empty.

Claire felt her pussy squirt again as she realized what he must have

just hidden.

When Lori came out of the shower she was dressed as she had been the

night before, in only a T shirt and borrowed boxers. She skipped across

the room and dove into bed, getting under the covers. Claire looked up.

"Are you OK, Mom?" asked Lori. "You look kind of tired or something."

"I'm fine," said Claire. She couldn’t help but imagine what

Lori's face looked like as her brother prodded her with his prick. She

shook her head.

"Are you sure? Are you sleeping OK? Did you bring your pills?" Lori's

voice held nothing but care and concern.

"I'm fine, Lori," said Claire somewhat irritably. "I'm sleeping fine,"

she lied. It occurred to Claire that maybe she SHOULD take a sleeping

pill. Then, at least, she wouldn't be awake when her children had sex,

like they obviously planned on doing again tonight. What little SNEAKS

they were! she thought to herself. And Lori's obviously false concern

about her mother sleeping well! Why did her young, beautiful daughter

get to have wild and glorious sex while Claire just had to lie there

horny? It wasn't fair!

Bobby came out of the bathroom. He was dressed exactly like he'd been

dressed the night before. But this time Claire couldn't help but look

at him differently. This time she knew he was...sexually active. Her

little boy was...a man. At least in that sense. She looked at him for

the first time, as a man. His chest was broad, she noticed. How could

she have missed that before? And his arms and legs were muscled.

Suddenly, in her head, she heard again his voice—her little

boy's voice—whispering in the night, "I'm so horny." Her eyes

dropped to the front of his shorts. She jerked her eyes away instantly,

ashamed to be looking at her son's manhood, but that brief glimpse drew

her eyes back again like a magnet, despite her wish not to look.

He must be HUGE! she thought to herself as she stared at the lump under

his skivvies. It almost looked like he was wearing a cup under them,

except for the obvious contour of a thick penis pressed against a pair

of immense balls. When had her son developed THAT kind of equipment?

Again she jerked her eyes away and blushed. How could she stare at her

own son's penis? She looked up to see him smile at her—just a

son smiling at his mother. Why, then, did she feel that emptiness that

she'd felt the night before...that lack of intimacy that she was

suddenly craving?

Claire felt panic welling up in her as she realized her nipples had

spiked. She got up and went to the bathroom. She got in the shower and

turned the water as cold as she could stand it. It didn't help though.

She moaned a soft sound of discontent and, to avoid thinking of her

son's bulge, she intentionally thought of Chuck's hand on her breast,

his own penis shoved gently against her buttocks. She shivered and

turned the water to a warmer setting. Then, with a gasp of surrender,

she shoved three fingers into her pussy as she jerked and rubbed,

trying to have an orgasm. She managed to get a little one, but it

wasn't really satisfying. When she came out of the shower and toweled

off, she realized she hadn't brought anything with her to change into.

She cracked open the door.

"Lori?" she called. "I forgot my pajamas. Would you get them for me,

please?"

Chuck's voice came softly. "They're already under the covers. I'll get

them. Where are they?"

"In my suitcase," she said. As she waited she realized he'd have to

move her scanty feminine panties to get to the pajamas. She leaned her

head against the door and sighed at how that made her feel.

A muscled arm came through the door. Her silk PJ’s were

hanging from the hand at the end of the arm.

"Here you go," came his deep voice.

When she came out of the bathroom Claire knew her nipples were still

spiked. This time it wasn't from the cold. It was because she needed to

be fucked. Admitting that to herself didn't do any good. She wanted to

cover her breasts, but knew that would only make it more obvious. Chuck

was back in his chair again, the book spread open on his lap. He looked

up at her and his eyes devoured her figure in the thin pajamas. She

knew that look and it didn't help her mood. She was used to dismissing

those looks—ignoring them and acting in a cold and

professional manner to deflect them. But she couldn't push the feeling

away this time. At least he didn't say anything.

Claire was glad he hadn't. If he'd said anything even remotely

connected to sex she would have flung off her pajamas and demanded he

take her then and there. And her children would just have to deal with

it! She fell into bed and buried her face in her pillow.

It was going to be a long night.

Oddly, she fell asleep quickly. But she dreamed.

She dreamed of her son, who came to her saying he had a "boo boo." He

pulled aside a loincloth he was wearing and his mammoth erection

strained up. There was a small spot on it where he'd caught the skin in

his zipper.

"It hurts, Mommy," he said. "Kiss it and make it better."

In her dream Claire did a lot more than kiss it and make it better. She

made it go all soft.

She woke with a start. She was lying on her side, facing the children

again. There was movement in the bed across from hers. Movement and

moaning.

"Oooo you got the kind with bumps on it," cooed Lori. "I love that

kind."

Claire looked to see her son's naked back, the covers down to his

waist. Under him was her daughter's naked chest, her breasts white in

the darkness. Bobby leaned down and suckled at one dark tip on top of a

white mound. He rocked gently.

His head raised back up. "Are you sure she took the pill?" he whispered.

"She told me she had them and that she was sleeping fine," came the

answer.

"Good," he whispered. "’Cause I'm about to cum, but I need to

go a little faster."

Lori's hands came under the blanket, where Bobby's ass cheeks were, and

Claire watched as her daughter pulled her son's prick into her.

Bobby groaned softly and froze on top of his sister.

Lori's voice came, louder than it should. "I feel it Bobby...the damn

rubber broke!"

"I'm sorry," he pleaded, still rocking on top of her...still spurting

her full of creamy white sperm. "I had to put it on in the dark."

"We have to stop this," came a hiss from Lori. "You're gonna knock me

up for sure!"

"I said I was sorry," he said softly.

There were small sounds, though, as of little kisses, indicating that

Lori wasn't quite as upset as she sounded.

Claire felt something akin to pain as she realized she was a lonely

woman. Broken rubbers were no concern of hers, because she had no man

at all.

Chapter Three

Somehow Claire got back to sleep, but again she dreamed.

This time it was a dream about her daughter, who walked into the

kitchen, her belly enormous, as if it held more than one baby.

"Morning, Mom," she said brightly.

In her dream, Claire turned to her daughter and said, "It looks like

there's another one in there this morning."

"Yeah," sighed Lori. "Bobby fucked another one in me last night. I

think that makes four. I may have to have a  c-section."

They were interrupted by Bobby, who came strutting into the kitchen

stark naked, his lusty huge erection straining out into the air in

front of him. It was the size of a fire hydrant and was red and angry

looking.

"Morning, Mother," he said grinning widely. "Are you ready to make your

morning baby?"

Claire looked down at her dream belly, which was just as gravid as

Lori's was. She screamed...

And jerked awake. The bed shivered. Everyone else was still sleeping.

She hadn't screamed out loud.

What's WRONG with me? she cried in her mind. She staggered out of bed

and went to the bathroom. Closing the door she turned on the light and

leaned on the sink, staring into the mirror. Her face looked haggard

and drawn. She splashed some water on her face. The cool of it felt

good.

She turned to her travel case, which she had put in the bathroom

earlier and opened it. She got out a sleeping pill and swallowed it.

Claire didn't dream again that night. But when she awoke it was to

multiple sensations. She didn't know why she had awakened just then.

She was still horny. And, she was cuddled up to Chuck, her head on his

shoulder, her hair covering her face. She had twin feelings of her

hand, lying on something soft...cloth...with something firm under it.

As she thought about where her hand had to be, she realized it was on

his morning erection. At the same time she felt his fingers on her

wrist. She felt him lifting her hand...moving it...letting it fall on

his flat, hard stomach.

She lifted her head. "I'm so sorry," she half whispered, her eyes

filling with tears. "I took a pill...I had dreams...I'm so sorry," she

began to sob quietly.

"Hey," he said into her hair. "Take it easy. It's OK. I just didn't

think you'd want to wake up and find your hand...there." He kissed her

hair. "Don't cry."

She felt better for knowing that he hadn't removed her hand because he

didn't want it there. She felt worse because she knew she wasn't going

to be able to control her urges.

"Thank you," she said. "But I don't know WHAT I want anymore."

His fingers went back to her wrist and lifted her hand again. Amazed,

she felt him return it to the lump of stiffness under his shorts and

drape it over his erection.

"There," he said. "All better?"

Claire felt her fingers curl around the stiff column of flesh before

she could stop them. She squeezed gently before sliding her hand

upward, off his hard-on. In the process her hand slid under his shirt,

onto his hot skin.

"We don't even know each other," she whispered, feeling much better for

having been able to take her hand away from what she wanted to feel.

"We can get to know each other," he suggested.

"I'm almost afraid to get to know you," she responded. "I'm already

about to let you do something I swore I'd never let a man do again."

"That's a good thing," he whispered back. "That means you're making

progress...working through your issues."

She couldn't help but smile and tried to pinch his skin. It was

surprisingly difficult to get anything between her fingers. She ended

up tickling him instead.

Chuck jerked and batted at her hand, clamping his on it and stopping

her. He rolled slightly as he let go and her hand slid to his side.

There were no love handles there. The hand he'd used came to her hair

and whisked it away from her face.

"I'm going to kiss you now, Claire," he whispered.

"OK," she surrendered. It was an instant, unthinking surrender that

made her feel better somehow before he even touched her.

It was a kiss to write home about. Neither of them cared about the

morning breath, or the teenagers in the bed on the floor next to them.

They just felt each other through their lips and experienced it.

Claire reluctantly pulled away from his lips. "What about your

girlfriend?" she asked.

"What girlfriend?" he replied. "I'm too busy with teaching and football

to have a girlfriend."

He kissed her again and she pressed her body against his, her arms

going around him, pulling him tightly against her. Despite her raging

emotions her passion surprised and even scared her a little.

When it was over Claire buried her face in his chest. "I'm in so much

trouble," she said. Her hand slid to his buttocks and inside his shorts

to grip a glute.

"I'm the teacher," he whispered back. "Why don't you let me decide

whether you're in trouble or not."

She removed her hand from his shorts and put it on his chest. "Not now.

Not yet. Not with the kids here. I can't."

He took her hand and kissed her fingertips. "Take all the time you

need. I'm a very patient man."

He rolled away from her and bounded out of bed, heading for the

bathroom.

Claire rolled over too, to face the other bed.

What she saw was Bobby's open eyes staring at her. He was up on one

elbow, obviously looking up and over the edge of the higher bed she was

in. Lori's lifted head was above his and she was staring at her mother

too.

Lori spoke. "Mommy? What are you DOING?!"

Claire was quite familiar with how children viewed—or rather

attempted NOT to view—the sexuality of their parents. She

remembered the first time her father had, at the breakfast table, come

up behind her mother, reaching around her to cup her breasts and kiss

her on the neck. Claire had been dumbfounded, expecting her mother to

slap at his hands and tell him what a terrible man he was. Instead she

had let her head fall to one side to give his lips more access. Claire

had been fourteen at the time, and had actually shivered with revulsion

at the blatant sexual play of her parents. Parents didn't have SEX!

Ewwwwww!

Of course she hadn't said anything. And, as she began to watch her

parents more closely, she saw many other times when they touched each

other in ways that made it quite clear they were sexual beings...and

happy in those roles. She had made the adjustment to being able

to...let...her parents be normal. It had awakened her own lusts.

So Claire had some idea of what was going through her daughter's mind.

And her reaction to that was a mixed bag of sympathy for her daughter

and anger that, at a time when she might just have accidentally found

something that could make her very happy, her daughter might try to

stop that. If she'd had more time to process events, she might have

spoken with a little less heat in her voice, or perhaps, might not have

spoken at all.

But speak she did.

"Whatever I'm doing, it isn't as bad as what you and Bobby were doing

last night."

She hadn't meant to approach this little problem at either this time or

in quite this way, but it was too late. She saw Lori's face go pale in

the morning light and Bobby swallowed.

Bobby started to say something—probably a

denial—and Claire cut him off.

"We'll discuss this later. This is neither the time nor the place."

As happens in a lot of confrontations between parent and child, Claire

felt the need to do something, or go somewhere—to break the

initial contact while she had the upper hand. Had she been at home she

could have begun dinner, or gone to her room, or snatched up a hamper

to start laundry; anything to make it obvious that she had other things

to do and would take up the subject at hand when SHE was ready.

But here, in this motel room, there WAS no dinner to make or laundry to

do. She got out of bed, but there was no place for her to go. Without

thinking—or perhaps because she was thinking too

MUCH—she grabbed her clothes out of her suitcase and

stormed...more or less...into the bathroom to change.

She had completely forgotten the bathroom was already occupied.

Chuck was standing at the sink running his fingers through a patch of

hair that he suspected was beginning to be contaminated with gray

hairs. He was much too young for that to happen, but suspected it

anyway. After taking care of his overfull bladder, he had stripped down

to take a shower and was waiting for the water to get warm. When the

door opened he automatically turned toward it.

Claire's first impression was that the light was on. Who had gone off

and left the light on? That wasted energy! That was immediately

followed by her mind trying to process the fact that there was a naked

man, with a decidedly thick and manly penis, standing in the bathroom.

The realization that it was Chuck was part and parcel of the smile that

bloomed on his face as he assumed she had rethought her resistance and

had decided to join him in the bathroom intentionally. His smile wasn't

a leer. It was, in fact, genuine happiness that this beautiful woman

had decided to grace him with her company.

Claire's unconscious brain recorded this information, tweaked an organ

that produced a particular hormone, so as to increase that hormonal

level in her bloodstream, and then made several

other...adjustments...to Claire's psyche and physiology.

Claire's conscious brain was horrified. She was three quarters of the

way through the door when she stopped.

"OH!" she said.

Chuck looked confused. His mind was beginning to register the shock on

her face and recognize that his initial belief that she had decided to

come and join him might be less than well founded.

"Close the door, you're letting out all the heat," he said, for lack of

anything else to say.

Claire, being an adult, and a mother, who was quite used to thinking in

just those terms closed the door...behind her. She stared at the naked

man facing her.

"Well," said Chuck, relaxing when she didn't scream or anything. "This

is a little awkward."

Something made Chuck want to treat this like it was just a minor social

gaff. He, too, had been unaccountably happy when he woke up to find

Claire Richardson cuddled up against him. That her hand had been lying

lightly on his manhood had just been the frosting on the cake. Chuck

really HAD been too busy with school to have much of a social life.

He'd taken a few of the unattached female teachers out on dates, but

most of them had been set up by other teachers who wanted to

match-make, and hadn't turned out to be anything near long term

situations. He didn't have a particularly high sex drive, and the

fantasies he masturbated to occasionally were satisfaction enough that

he wasn't impatient to find a warm pussy to call his own. In his

experience, warm pussies were often attached to clinging women who

wanted themselves to be the primary focus of his attention.

But Claire Richardson was a woman who aroused his interest. It had been

a given that she was beautiful and successful. He could see that when

he met her. Since then, though, he had noticed her buoyant capacity to

be girlish, even though her routine demeanor was mature. She took

obvious joy in her children, who were good kids, something teachers

appreciated. He sensed in her a smoldering passion that he suspected

would be spectacular if it were ever unleashed. He saw glimpses of that

as she enjoyed the combat between teenage warriors on the field.

Chuck didn't know if anything could develop with this fascinating

woman, but he didn't want to just let things get strained, or

uncomfortable. And so he opted to treat the events of the last few

hours as something slightly off normal, but cute—one of those

things you tell stories about later in life and laugh at.

"It's amazing," he said, turning back to the mirror and fiddling with

his hair, as if her sudden entrance was nothing more than a minor

distraction, "how underdressed someone can feel in a bathroom."

"Oh damn, I'm sorry. I forgot you were in here," said Claire, somehow

more upset that he was apparently ignoring her than she was that he was

stark naked and she was standing with him in a motel bathroom. "I had

to yell at the kids and then I wanted to get away from them and..."

Claire's voice trailed off. She lost her train of thought as her mind

caught up to the situation. She WAS standing in a motel bathroom with a

naked man! And the man was looking in the mirror instead of at her! And

hadn't he just said something about how he was underdressed...as if SHE

were OVERDRESSED?

"What's going on with the kids?" he asked, leaning closer to the mirror

to stretch at the bags under his eyes.

"You're naked," squeaked Claire.

Chuck smiled and turned to face the woman again. "What was your first

clue?" he grinned. Then he suggested, "I suspect you've seen men in my

condition before this. Don't worry about it. I was about to take a

shower, but I can wait if you want to go first."

What went through Claire's mind was an imaginary scene in a movie in

which she and Chuck were the stars. She saw herself dropping her silk

pajamas on the floor and Chuck holding the shower curtain open for her

to step into the tub. She saw her naked body brush up against his as

she entered the shower. She felt his hands sliding over her soapy body

as he washed her.

The tingle of her nipples crinkling brought Claire out of her short

fantasy and all the feelings she had felt lying next to this man in bed

rushed back to overwhelm her. She looked helplessly at the man she'd

only known for a few days. She was so turned on she was actually

vibrating, her whole body shaking with tension. She shouldn't be here.

Not with a naked man. Not with THIS naked man. Her children were right

outside. They KNEW she was in here with this man. She should leave

immediately…but she didn't WANT to leave.

"I don't know what to do," she said in a little girl voice. She

suddenly felt very much like a little girl. She was perilously close to

crying again.

Chuck left the sink and came over to her. She looked into his eyes and

felt her will to resist draining away.

"Do you want to take a shower?" he asked softly.

The remembered fragments of the shower scene in her fantasy bubbled up

in Claire's mind and she nodded. Almost without her own volition her

voice said, "Uh huh."

"The water should be warm by now," he suggested.

She nodded again, not trusting herself to speak.

"You can't take a shower in your pajamas," he said.

He took the bundle of clothing from her hands and set it on the counter

of the sink. His hands went to the big blue buttons of her silk pajamas

and he began undoing them. He worked slowly, his hands dropping from

each button, when it was loose, to the next one. Claire felt cool air

flow against the skin between her breasts. She couldn't lift her hands

for some reason and just stood there as his hands came to her shoulders

and pushed the silk. It slid off, over her shoulders, and she could

feel the caress of the cloth as it glided down her arms. His hands

smoothed along the tops of her shoulders and down the outside of her

arms.

Suddenly she was standing topless in a motel bathroom with a naked man.

A part of her brain noticed that he didn't ogle her naked breasts, with

their stiffened nipples. Instead he gazed into her eyes as his hands

slid, with a feather touch down her arms from her shoulders and moved

to her hips, gripping the waistband of her pajama bottoms. Her eyes

followed his as his head began to sink, and his eyes stayed locked onto

hers as he went to one knee.

His eyes still locked onto hers, he began to pull her bottoms down

until they were pooled at her feet. As if in a dream she lifted one

foot and stepped sideways with it. She was acutely aware that when she

did this, her naked, defenseless pussy was now open in front of this

man. She began to tremble harder and felt an unaccountable sense of

relief as he stood back up. She wanted him to hug her.

Instead, Chuck took her hand and led her to the tub. Just like in her

fantasy he pulled the shower curtain back, making a doorway for her to

step into the tub. His eyes had never left hers.

As she stepped into the tub Claire replayed the shower scene in her

mind and pleasure shot through her as she anticipated the next part.

Her fantasy came to a jarring stop as, when she stepped into the tub,

he stayed outside and let the curtain fall back to break the lock

between their eyes.

"If you need any help, feel free to ask," came his deep voice from

outside.

Claire blinked and realized she was wet. Then, and only then, did she

feel the water beating against her shoulder and one breast. Mixed

emotions of joy, anger, frustration and sexual passion raged through

her mind and body. What kind of man WAS this? How could he DO this to

her?

Claire's hand jerked to the shower curtain and she flung it open.

"Of COURSE I need your help, you...YOU...YOU MAN!" she barked.

It was then Claire noticed that, while she had been in a fog as her

body was slowly made naked, Chuck's body had gone through a change.

That heavy thick thing she had seen hanging between his legs when she

first came into the bathroom was hanging no longer. Now it was pointing

at her. It was the first erect penis Claire had seen in ten years and

the effect it had on her was electric.

"Get IN here," she growled.

The rest of her shower went much more like her fantasy had. His fantasy

was a bit more detailed than hers had been though.

In her fantasy she had felt his skin against hers, her breasts pushing

into his chest and hands. She had left out the part where his mouth

fastened on her aching nipples and sucked until she thought she'd go

mad.

Her fantasy had included his hands sliding all over her slippery soapy

body. His supplied the slippery friction of his prick gliding into her

pussy as they stood in tight embrace. He was strong enough to, once he

got her to spread her legs, squat between them, digging the tip of his

cock into her famished pussy and then stand up, lifting her with the

penetration of his penis until she had to stand on her tiptoes, her

arms tightly around him to keep from falling backward.

Her fantasy hadn't included the overwhelming feeling of

fullness...completeness that his thick penis caused in her unused sex,

as it pressed against her along every inch of her delicate tissues. She

hadn't realized how empty she had felt until she was full to

overflowing.

And somehow her fantasy had left out his hot kisses, his tongue taking

her breath away as he bounced on the balls of his feet, dangling her on

his spike as her clit was punished by the base of his cock where it

skewered her. Her mind kept trying to tell her this must be all a

dream. Her body argued vociferously that it was very real.

Her orgasm left her so weak she couldn't even hold on to him anymore,

but his strong arms around her waist only let her upper torso lean

backwards, her arms hanging down slightly behind her, her head thrown

back until her neck muscles complained. Warm water kissed her chin and

splashed on her breasts.

In that position she felt him tense, and heard his groan of completion

as she felt the fountain of his ejaculation deep inside her. Her

passion was so sated that, even though she thought about the fact that

she had stopped taking her birth control pills years and years and

years ago, she couldn't possibly care less at this moment.

Claire's back began to complain and she mustered the effort to lean

forward and press her breasts against his muscled chest again. Her face

went into his chest and she was surprised to again feel the beat of

warm water on her back as his hands slid upward to stroke her there.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," she mumbled into his chest.

"In that case, I'm really glad you don't have more self control," came

her lover's response.

She looked up to meet his eyes for the first time since she’d

dragged him into the tub and saw only warmth there. It thrilled her to

the core.

"Me too," she said and kissed him.

Despite the incredible intimacy of what had just happened, there was an

atmosphere of awkwardness between them as they separated and rewashed

their bodies separately...hurriedly, with economy of movement.

It was cold outside the tub and she shivered again as he handed her a

towel. It wasn't big enough, or fluffy enough, and she had a sudden

wish that this had taken place in her own master bathroom...or maybe

his.

"That's the first time something like that has ever happened to me,"

said Chuck conversationally, as he bent and dried his legs.

Claire felt the need to engage him in something other than sex. "I

can't believe that," she said, thinking about...sex. "You're much too

handsome and...manly. I would have thought you do this...a lot."

"Yeah, well don't believe all the hype," he said, rubbing his penis

briskly with the towel. "All this stud-muffin crap isn't at all what

it's cracked up to be." He looked up and grinned. "We stud-muffins are

quite often insecure and underappreciated."

"Well, I appreciate you," said Claire. She was shocked that she'd said

that so blatantly and with such emotion.

"Thank you, Madame" he bowed to her. She smiled at the ridiculous

formal motion, done by a naked man.

When he stood back up he said "Are you really OK?"

She felt another thrill go through her at the care in his question. She

suddenly felt much more comfortable with him, which seemed exceedingly

odd, considering what she'd just done with him. She threw the towel

over her head to partly dry her hair.

"I have no idea. None of this has turned out ANYTHING like I had

expected it to. This whole trip is turning out to be...I don't

know...amazing?" She finished her statement as a question.

"I'm with you on that," he said. "I thought I was just going to coach

football. If somebody had said I was going to make love to one of the

most beautiful women in the world I would have said they were crazy."

His voice suggested that his comment about her beauty was one that

anyone would understand and automatically agree with. He wasn't trying

to get in her panties with that comment. It made Claire's stomach

flutter and she suddenly wanted to have him again. In the old days she

often had three or four orgasms to Denny's one. She made a conscious

effort to redirect her thoughts.

"Thank you, Sir," she said and curtsied to him, using the towel to

mimic her non-existent skirts.

He looked at her and that warmth was back in his eyes. "You really are

beautiful, you know."

"I bet you say that to all the naked women in your motel bathroom." She

smiled.

"I don't know about that. I've never been in a motel bathroom with a

naked woman before," said Chuck, pulling on his underwear. "If it's

anything like this, though, I'm going to try to have naked women in my

motel bathroom all the time from now on." He grinned and continued to

get dressed.

Claire did the same, combing through her hair and deciding that it

wasn't worth the time it would take to dry and style it. Instead she

pulled it back and put it in a damp pony tail. When she was done she

faced the door, but didn't open it.

"I don't know how to go out there," she said.

"You open the door and walk through it," said Chuck, buttoning his

shirt. "It's easy. I've done it lots of times."

"Thank you so much," said Claire acidly. "You've never done it with two

teenagers to face."

"Claire, I was awake the other night," he said.

She turned around, her throat tightening. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"I couldn't sleep...with you in the bed with me. It was too different.

And I felt you tense up and heard the kids. Then when you jumped out of

bed I got ready to mediate...things. When you were in the bathroom I

didn't hear you...um...use the facilities. But you flushed anyway, so I

knew you were trying to do something. I didn't know what, but I knew

you were upset. And, when you came back to bed you didn't do anything,

so I figured you didn't know what to do."

She looked at him in amazement.

"So I put my arm over you so you wouldn't have to decide what to do,"

he said calmly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. It's really

none of my business."

"What must you think of us?" moaned Claire, hiding her face in her

hands.

His hands pulled hers away. "Look, I'm not a father. I don't understand

all this. But they're just kids and kids do that kind of thing. If I

WERE a father I think I'd rather they did it with each other than with

strangers...people I didn't know anything about. But like I said, it's

not my business. If you want me to talk to them, though, I will."

"But its...wrong," said Claire.

"OK, it's wrong," said Chuck. "Is that the only thing they've ever done

wrong?"

"No, of course not," said Claire. "But what if she gets pregnant?"

"So, put her on the pill," said Chuck.

"And just let them go on?" asked Claire, her eyes wide.

"Do you remember the first man to have sex with you?" he asked.

Claire nodded.

"Could anybody have made you stop?" he asked.

Claire's eyes widened more. She shook her head.

"So, put her on the pill and tell them to be careful, and let them

learn what life is all about," he said.

Claire nibbled her lip, staring at nothing while she thought. She

looked at Chuck's face and felt heat in her loins. She had it bad for

this younger man. Abruptly she turned, grabbed her pajamas from where

Chuck had folded them neatly on the counter, opened the door and walked

out to confront her children.

Chapter Four

Lori had looked on in disbelief as her mother had gotten out of bed

after kissing the coach and then followed him into the bathroom. It was

as though she had suddenly been transported to another dimension of

reality. And that was on top of the fact that their mother apparently

knew her children were sexually active...with each other. Lori wanted

to run away from the shame she felt, and yet, her mother's actions were

so bizarre that she wanted to stay and watch what happened next.

Caution overrode her curiosity, though, and when it became apparent

that her mother was going to STAY in the bathroom with Coach, Lori

jumped up and pulled the covers off her brother.

"Get up," she ordered tersely. "We have to get out of here before she

comes back."

For Bobby, the reaction was slightly different. There was nothing he

loved more than the feeling of Lori's firm, tight pussy wrapped around

his cock. He loved the feel of her skin on his, of her lips against

his. He loved the smell of her hair. He loved the feeling of semen

bursting through his prick and out into Lori's belly. He hated using a

condom. Every time he made love with his sister something deep in his

subconscious hoped his baby would begin to grow in her. He hated school

only because he wished they were old enough to run away together and

start a family. He knew how stupid that really was. He knew it would

never work. But it was how he felt, and he couldn't...or

wouldn't…give it up voluntarily. Not even if it was

forbidden by his mother.

All this was the end result, actually, of how he felt ABOUT his mother.

He had always thought she was beautiful. As time went on he recognized

the strength in her, her abilities, her loving nature. When he entered

puberty and saw his first Playboy magazine, the first Bunny he looked

at could have been his mother's twin sister. And he had been in love

with his mother ever since.

Of course she wasn't available to him for anything more than the

hurried hugs and quick kisses she bestowed on him and his sister as she

went about her busy life. The kids were independent, and could cook and

do their own laundry. They even went to the grocery store and did the

family shopping occasionally.

In fact, a trip to the store and cooking was what had brought Lori and

Bobby together as more than just brother and sister. Claire had been

gone one night, to some function or other, and Lori had a hankering for

pie. She couldn't drive yet, being only fifteen, so she begged her

brother to take her to the store to get the necessary ingredients.

Having nothing else to do that night, he agreed and their trip through

the store had been interesting. It had been the first time they were in

a grocery store together, without their mother.

In the past they had competed with each other, trying to get their

mother to buy what each wanted, without caring what the other got.

Their separate, competing cries of "MOMMY, can I have THIS?" had driven

Claire to distraction, like it does every parent, and she had coped

with it, like most parents have to, by striking a balance of giving the

children what they wanted...if it was good for them and if she could

afford it.

This time, though, there was no competition. As they strolled down the

aisles, looking for baking powder and various other things they had no

idea where to look for in a store, they worked as a team. They got

distracted in the cereal aisle, pointing out various older cereals they

had loved as children and not eaten for years—remembering a

carefree time of their lives that was gone forever. And they saw items

they didn't even know existed before that trip, some of which were

strange and funny to their teen sensibilities.

And they laughed, and joked, and found that they liked each other. It

was the beginning of a pivotal experience.

For those of you who have no siblings, this phenomenon of a brother and

sister "liking" each other may be difficult to grasp. You

“only children” out there would assume, naturally,

that ALL brothers and sisters "like" each other. Nothing could be

further from the truth. Siblings, as has been stated before, compete.

They compete for resources within the family. They compete in their

social relationships outside the family. And they compete for the

attention of the caregivers in the family unit. They compete for space,

for time on the TV, for clothing, for use of the car. They compete for

everything. If the parents are good at their job, siblings learn to

work together for the benefit of the whole family. But, arguably,

that's fairly rare, because parents are sucked into the competition

model at work and in their own social groups. Some parents even use

competition to get what THEY want from their children. True, most

siblings find a way to like each other later in life, when they've

grown up enough to recognize competition for the double edged sword it

really is, but for siblings under twenty to actually LIKE each

other...well it's a lot more rare than it should be.

And "like" doesn't mean they can be in the same room for a while

without arguing. It doesn't mean that they mind their manners at the

dinner table. It doesn't mean that they merely refrain from badmouthing

their brother or sister to their friends. What it means is that they

actually seek each other out, caring what the other thinks, sharing

special feelings and moments, helping because they care what happens to

the other sibling. It means they want their brother or sister to be

happy, and that they'll do whatever they can to help them find that

happiness.

It means they are friends...with a blood tie that makes that friendship

more special than most others.

Finding that, or realizing that, is a powerful, life changing

experience.

Back in the kitchen, Bobby decided to stay and "help" make the pie. The

pie became pie and cookies, and then a cake was added and, at some

point when Lori had flour on her nose and stains on her T shirt, Bobby

had realized she was really a beautiful girl. His eyes had taken in the

swell of her breasts, under that shirt, and her rounded hips, and her

dimples, and the way her pony tail bobbed and swung as she moved her

head. And he realized he had found another woman who compared to his

mother.

More than that, she compared favorably.

"You're beautiful," he said, with wonder in his voice. "You're really

beautiful, Lori."

That had taken Lori completely off guard. While she had become

interested in boys, it was more of a clinical interest. Her girlfriends

gushed about kisses and groping sessions, but none of the boys she

looked at—who were available—made anything happen

in her when she imagined herself wrapped in their arms. She had a dream

lover whose only physical existence was her pillow, which she hugged

and kissed and clamped between her young thighs sometimes, but he had

no face. He had height, and width and strong hands in her

imagination...but no face. She went on a few dates, but the boys were

vacuous, talking about things she didn't care about or

understand.  All they seemed to want to do was eat and boast,

and expected her to find that attractive enough to take off her panties

and jump their bones. One football player who asked her out gave her a

package in school the day before their scheduled date. Inside was a

pair of crotchless panties, with a note that said, "For our date with

destiny."

She just wasn't impressed. That date hadn't happened, even though she

kept the panties. They were frilly, lacy and sheer—nothing

like what she owned before that.

No, boys just didn't impress her.

But none of them had ever said she was beautiful in a way that made it

obvious they really meant it, or paid any attention to her in soft,

caring ways. And Lori could tell that Bobby actually meant what he'd

said.

Bobby blushed when he realized he'd spoken out loud. "Uh...sorry," he

said.

"Why?" questioned his sister. "It was a nice thing to say."

"Yeah, but I don't talk that way to girls," said her brother.

"Especially not my sister."

"Well you should," she sniffed. "You made me feel really good. Nobody's

ever said I was beautiful before."

"You're kidding." Bobby was truly astonished. It was obvious his sister

was a stone fox...once you took the time to look at her.

"Well, I hear things like 'You're HOT, Lori,' and 'You give me a case

of the blue balls, Lori,' and crap like that. All that means is, 'I'm

horny and I want you to take care of my little problem.' They don't

really think I'm beautiful like you meant it. The only other person who

ever said that to me was mom," said Lori, turning back to the counter

to roll out more dough.

Bobby was a little off balance, or he probably wouldn't have said what

he said next.

"Well she should know," he muttered. "She's the most beautiful woman I

know."

Lori heard something in his voice that struck a chord deep inside her.

Those two simple sentences were said with a level of conviction and

passion, and even a hint of frustration, she had never heard in a man's

voice before.

"Why Bobby Richardson!" she said, her eyes narrowing. "You sound like

you're in love with your own mother!"

The look on Bobby's face had given her even more information about just

how strong her brother's feelings were about their mother. Initially

she was shocked, but the fluttery feeling in her own stomach made her

look at the situation differently than she would have if one of her

friends had come up to her and said, "Hey, you know your brother? He's

got the hots for your mother!"

As for Bobby, he felt like a pervert whose picture has just been

published in the paper, with a warning to keep mothers away from him.

He felt panic well up in his chest as he looked at his sister,

expecting her face to take on an ugly scowl. When it didn't, but rather

looked curious, he tried to salvage the situation.

"Sure I love my mother. Everybody loves their mother."

But Lori read between the lines. She was around him enough to know

everything that he did and most people that he talked to, and there was

no way in the world that he could have done anything with their mother

and her not at least suspect it. She thought about her own lack of

interest in dating and her dream lover.

"Is that why you don't have a girlfriend?" she asked. There was a tiny

thing inside her that made her worry that she must be gay because of

her lack of interest in boys. She had worried about Bobby too, because

he didn't date much either.

Bobby tried to bluff his way through it. "Of course not. I go out all

the time."

"Yeah, but you never go out with anybody very many times," countered

his sister.

"You should talk. Jimmy Jones said he had a date planned with you and

you didn't even show up!"

"That's because he gave me crotchless panties to wear on the date,"

said Lori. "Would you have wanted me to go on that date?"

"He did not!" said Bobby. The idea of one of his friends giving his

sister crotchless panties was just ludicrous. "You're kidding," said

Bobby, his mind suddenly conjuring up crotchless panties on his sister.

What made it even more bizarre was that he could only imagine them on

the OUTSIDE of what she was wearing.

"Nope. I still have them. They're hidden," she said.

"Wow," said Bobby softly. "I'm going to have to have a little talk with

Jimmy."

"No you're not. I already took care of things. I don't need big brother

throwing his weight around. I can take care of myself," she said firmly.

"Did you ever wear them?" he asked suddenly.

Lori put her hands on her hips. "Where would I wear crotchless

panties?" she asked heatedly.

"Come on, Lori, he didn't really give you crotchless panties," Bobby

said laughing.

Lori stuck her jaw out. "What? You don't believe me? You want to see

them or something?"

She turned for the kitchen doorway. "Come on big brother, I'll prove it

to you."

Bobby tried to defend himself. "I didn't say I didn't believe you. I

just wanted to know if you'd ever worn them." He followed her down the

hall to her room.

When he got into the room Lori was bent over, rummaging in the bottom

drawer of her dresser.

Again Bobby saw wispy red panties spread over his sister's round

bottom...on the OUTSIDE of her jeans. He wanted to laugh, except that

he felt guilty.

Lori turned around unexpectedly, a bit of blue cloth in her hand. She

saw where his eyes had been.

"You pervert! You were looking at my butt!" she said.

"You can't tell a guy you're going to show him a pair of crotchless

panties and not expect him to look at your butt," Bobby argued.

"Besides, you're SHOWING me crotchless panties, so you're just as much

of a pervert as I am."

Reminded of what she had in her hands, Lori held them up and spread the

waistband apart with her hands. That they were crotchless was

immediately apparent.

"See?" she taunted him. "I was telling the truth!"

"I DIDN'T say you weren't!" said Bobby. "I just wanted to know if

you’ve ever WORN them!"

"NO I HAVEN'T!" she yelled.

"WELL WHY NOT?" her brother yelled back at her.

Like many siblings, they had gotten into an argument that wasn't really

about...the argument. What was REALLY happening was that they were both

experiencing things they couldn't understand, and yelling was one way

of coping with it.

"I've never found a boy I wanted to wear them for," she said, her voice

tightly controlled, but full of emotion. "I suppose YOU want to see me

in them."

Bobby was struck dumb. He had no idea how to react to that. But his

autonomic nervous system reacted for him. His heart rate increased, as

did his breathing rate. His pupils dilated, to let in more light. He

felt a tightness in his chest.

And his prick began to fill with blood.

It showed on his face, and that fluttery feeling in Lori's belly turned

into a ball of warmth that she had never felt before. "You DO want to

see me in them," she said, her voice hushed.

"I AM a pervert," moaned Bobby. "My DICK is getting hard, Lori!" He

said it like he couldn’t believe it. It came out again,

helplessly. "I'm a pervert," moaned Bobby. "My DICK is getting hard for

my own sister!"

Now Lori was the one who was speechless. Her own autonomic nervous

system kicked in and made the same kinds of changes in her body. Since

she didn't have a penis to engorge, her system sent the blood to her

nipples and clitoris and they swelled, becoming more sensitive.

Just like Bobby knew what his swelling penis meant, Lori knew what the

sudden tingle in her nipples and the itch between her legs meant. And,

at this point, though Lori didn't understand why that was happening,

that fluttery feeling in her stomach made her feel...daring.

She had finally found a boy she wanted to wear crotchless panties with.

"Turn around," she said.

"What?" Bobby didn't understand.

"I'm going to put them on. Turn around," she repeated.

Lori never thought about the idea that, in the space of minutes, she

would be standing in front of her brother dressed only in crotchless

panties. But the idea of doing just that was so exciting that she

almost trembled. She was caught on the horns of a teenage dilemma in

which, on the one hand, she wanted to do something exciting. That was

to appear in front of a boy—her brother—clad only

in crotchless panties. On the other hand, though, she had been taught

to be modest and that was well ingrained into her psyche. She didn't

think about the fact that if he watched her get undressed and put the

panties on, he wouldn't see any more than if he just saw her in them.

All she thought about was that getting undressed in front of a boy was

immodest, so he had to turn his back.

Bobby turned in a daze, simply responding to her directions. His mind

was in a whirl. He kept seeing panties on the outside of her jeans.

True, they had changed from red to blue, but he still couldn't

visualize her without the jeans. Before he could think of what to do

she spoke again.

"OK...you can see them now."

Bobby's mind still had her in jeans. The reality of what she'd done

blasted that image from his mind forever.

She had, in fact, stripped naked before putting them on. She stood

tense, ready to bolt, a stiffness in her limbs that made her look like

a mannequin.

Bobby gasped in a breath as he took in white breasts that were larger

than he'd imagined, with rosy pink nipples that were longer than he'd

imagined. The blue lace set off her skin and hair, all of which were

pale and drew the gaze to the soft fluff of almost white hair that

peeked out between the opening at the crotch.

"Oh fuck, Lori," he gasped.

Bobby's face...the look in his eyes, an almost predatory jungle look of

overwhelming emotion, and the word he used, made Lori's knees weak. She

felt like a mouse cringing under the paws of a cat that was ready to

eat her. It was the most fantastic feeling she had ever felt in her

life. His face said it all. She really WAS beautiful to this man who

was her brother. He WANTED her.

Had she been able to stop and think, she would have realized she'd seen

that same look on the faces of boys she'd pushed away. And she might

have wondered about that. Why would she push them away and then want to

welcome that look on her brother's face?

But she didn't have time to think. Nervously she asked, "Do I look OK?"

Bobby tried to clamp down on the emotions that had already made his

dick iron hard. This was his sister. He shouldn't feel this way about

her. He shouldn't feel the things he felt for his mother either.

Feeling his control slipping, he decided to confess, hoping that Lori

would be compelled to throw him out and remove any risk that he might

act on those emotions.

"No, you don't look OK," he said, his teeth hard to part in his mouth.

"You look fabulous. Lori…I want to do things to you. Maybe I

should leave now."

Lori's building emotions continued to push her toward where, an hour

ago, she would never have dreamed of going.

"Like what?" she asked, her stomach churning.

Bobby, having a difficult time cutting things off, was lured further by

her apparent interest and lack of horror at what he was suggesting.

"Hold you," he said tensely.

"What's wrong with that?" asked his sister. "That's not perverted."

"You're naked," he pointed out.

"No I'm not, I'm wearing panties," she countered.

Bobby's frustration and desire bubbled over.

"I want to suck your luscious titties. I want to lick your pussy! I

WANT TO FUCK YOU!" he yelled.

There was a sound in Lori's abdomen, akin to the sound a stomach

makes—growling when hunger is strong. But it wasn't Lori's

stomach that made that sound. Her pussy got so wet it dripped, soaking

the fluff poking from between the edges of the crotchless portion of

her panties. Dewey drops collected on the ends of a few of those hairs.

Lori flushed, feeling the heat of the blood suffusing her cheeks and

neck and chest. She felt fire shooting through her loins and her

nipples ached so much she had to reach up and squeeze them both between

her thumbs and fingers. The pleasure of that tipped the balance.

"Would you please kiss me first?" she asked softly.

Bobby discovered that the idea of kissing his sister was suddenly

appealing in a way that surprised him. She was his sister...and that

made it seem odd. But she was a beautiful young woman, too, and that

made it attractive to him. Something bloomed in his gut and he found

himself anxious to kiss her, wondering what her lips would feel

like...taste like. He was so focused on the kiss part that he didn't

even process the rest of the insinuation in her question. His autonomic

nervous system heard that promise, though, and finished preparing his

body for mating.

What happened then was a comedy of errors as both young people crashed

into each other, each one trying to do something with their hands and

not knowing what to do. Their lips crushed together and, for a few

minutes, that was enough. But the feel of her hot breasts through his

shirt made Bobby crazy and he pushed her away long enough to rip his

own shirt off.

Then they crashed together again, their chests rubbing. Their noses

clashed as each one tried to tilt his or her head in the same

direction. Then they both switched to the other direction at the same

time and their teeth touched, banging. Bobby's hands cupped his

sister's butt through the panties and she moaned as he pulled her

against his stiff bone.

Bobby groaned as he felt nectar leaking from his cock. "Lori, you don't

know what you're doing to meee," he moaned.

"Show me," she whispered. She had never been this excited in her whole

short life. She wanted to see everything...feel everything...do

everything. She was a runaway emotional train with no brakes.

Then they were apart while Bobby frantically pushed down his jeans,

kicking off his shoes. Lori held her breath as he thumbed his shorts

and pushed them down.

What she saw then shook her to her core. Bobby's prick was, in her

opinion, a massive thing, thick and veined, not as long as she thought

it might be...blunt looking, like a cardboard roll when the toilet

paper is gone, but with pink flesh wrapped tightly around it.

"Oh Bobby," she sighed. Her mind screamed that it would never fit in

her, and then argued that nobody said they would even try that, while

other parts of her mind couldn't wait to feel that inside her. She

almost fragmented mentally with her urge to run and her urge to take

that thing into her mouth and hand and pussy.

"Oh Bobby," she sighed again. "Oh please hurry."

She pulled him to her bed, with its pink bedspread covered with cartoon

characters, and their legs tangled as she tried to lie down, crawl on

the bed and pull him with her all at the same time.

Then he was over her again, and that same feeling of being a mouse

under a cat came flashing back into her mind. His head darted to her

breasts and she gurgled with the impact of the feeling as he sucked

hard on a nipple. Her legs tried to flop open, an automatic Neanderthal

reaction as her body begged to be bred, but his leg was in the way and

she could only move one leg to the side. He felt her leg hit his and

lifted his own and she groaned as she was able to spread her legs,

opening herself to be plundered. He shifted to the other nipple and her

knees drew up, digging her heels into the bed. She arched her back,

driving her pussy up at him, and whined when her thighs hit his waist

and she couldn't make it touch anything. Her pussy wanted to be

touched...stroked...fucked. With her eyes closed she remembered the

look of that huge thing that jutted from the brown hair at the base of

it and reached, twisting sideways, groping, trying to find it. She

whined again. It was beyond her reach.

"Bobbeeeeeee," she moaned. "I'm on fire."

Bobby had given up trying to control himself, too. His mind, too, was

fragmented by the multiple sensations vying for his attention. The feel

of her soft naked skin touching him sent electric sensations, almost

pain, out from each place they touched. The taste of her nipples

threatened to make his head explode. The feel of her legs

opening...promising that they wouldn't have to stop...made his prick

lurch and drip. Her voice rasped in his brain, like the cry of a child

who needs help and who drives you to heroic feats to save her. He

pushed up and moved up, knowing his penis would be just above her pussy.

When Bobby moved, Lori's flailing hand found his young manhood. She

gripped and pulled, almost savagely, until it nosed into the gap made

in the panties for this very reason. It nudged between the petals of

her pussy. His motion already started, when Bobby felt that fiery

embrace, he pushed savagely, impaling his sister's defenseless pussy in

one streaking lunge that took the tip of his cock clear to her womb.

Lori was shocked at the pain. Her body had been telling her this was

what she wanted. But his savage, hymen-shredding entry sobered her

instantly and she writhed, trying to get away from the invading

monster. A scream of agony tore from her lips and her hands scrabbled

now at his sides, trying to push him away. It was torture!

Bobby was beyond control, though. His mind registered her anguished

cry, but the Neanderthal part of it insisted that this was

right—that he must go on. His hips lifted, drawing his prick

almost out of his lover and then fell, powering back into her belly.

She grunted with the force of it and her fingernails dug painfully into

his sides, pushing. He let her push him back up, and the muscles in his

abdomen and buttocks clenched, driving him into her again. He heard the

squelch of fluids being displaced and the smack of skin hitting skin.

His body set up a repetitive motion, pulling and then slamming back in,

pounding the soft body under him, as if he were trying to pound her

into submission as she cried out over and over again. Her cries were

like music to the Neanderthal’s ears.

==========================

Lori couldn't make the pain go away. He was too heavy...too strong.

Then her pussy was suddenly empty and she took a breath to shout her

relief. That breath blasted out of her as another agonized cry as the

monster ravished her pussy a second time. She felt like she was being

split open, that she must surely die. Then the pounding began and she

got faint as her body jiggled and shook as it was abused.

Then, suddenly, so suddenly that she was taken completely by surprise,

a streak of that earlier pleasure shot through her loins. Her vaginal

tissues were beginning to adapt...stretch...loosen, and his penis

scraped along her engorged clit each time it slammed into her body. Her

eyes had been closed, squeezed tightly at the pain, but now they opened

wide as more and more of those delicious feelings began to flood her

senses once again. Now the balance had tipped and, while there was

still pain, it had taken on a new feel, like the pain of worked

muscles...a bearable pain...a good pain.

And even that faded away to be replaced by overwhelming feelings of

ecstasy that made her lift her hips, like they had before, when they

were seeking something to fill her emptiness with. Her hips seemed to

know when to do this and soon she was pounding her pussy UP off the bed

as his prick slithered into her on his down stroke. She spread her legs

wider now and that helped too, allowing him to go deeper than before,

where he hit something that made Lori want to scream again, only this

time NOT in pain, but in joy!

Lori had felt orgasms before when she used her fingers, and she felt

that excitement building inside her. She welcomed it, because that was

something familiar, that she knew what to expect from. But it kept

building and then built some more until again she thought she'd fly

apart if there wasn't some kind of release. She cried out again,

thrusting, writhing, trying to reach for that sweet release. Now her

fingernails dug into her brother's buttocks as she pulled him into her

as deeply as possible.

Bobby too felt the release he so desperately sought begin to build. He

gave no thought to letting that release take place outside his sister's

pussy. His body drove him single-mindedly to just...get there. And when

his balls clenched and he knew it was there, the Neanderthal in him

whispered, "Go deep," and he did. He slammed into her one last time and

held himself rigid as his balls emptied themselves into the hot,

clasping pussy wrapped firmly around his prick.

Lori felt Bobby go stiff. She felt the penis inside her get even

larger. Then she felt the rush of heat deep in her belly, right next to

the thing she had almost instantly learned she loved to have prodded.

That heat surrounded the little thing inside her and her orgasm loosed

itself throughout her body.

Again, Bobby heard his sister's now hoarse voice give out an agonized

cry, but this one sounded different than the first ones had. This one

had the force of unbridled joy supporting it. The part of Bobby's mind

that knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that he had hurt his sister

and hurt her badly...relaxed a little. She couldn't sound that joyful

if she was still in pain.

They lay there, gripping each other with muscles that were almost

locked. They drew in great gasping breaths of air, which cleared their

minds enough to assess what had just happened. Bobby could tell that he

was heavy upon her and rolled sideways, holding her, until they were

face to face, lying on their sides.

Lori remembered the pain. She knew how severe it had been—how

she would have done anything to make it stop. But she couldn't feel

that now. And, as he rolled, and his now limp penis pulled out of her,

Lori felt the loss…the emptiness...and she knew that she

would have to be filled again.

"I love you," she whispered to her brother.

"How could you? I heard your screams," he said.

"That's gone. I don't think that will happen again," she sighed. "It

had better not," she added.

"I raped you," he moaned.

"No," she said. She didn't know what that was, but it wasn't rape. Not

as far as she was concerned.

"How did this happen?" he whined.

"I don't know," said Lori. "And I don't care...as long as it happens

again."

"We can't." He was a little boy again. Now he thought of the

consequences. "You'll get pregnant. It will hurt you."

"We'll do something about that," she said soothingly.

"What did we do?" he sounded lost.

"You took my cherry," she whispered. "And I love you for it."

She kissed him until he calmed down enough to know she was being

truthful with him.

==========================

Lori had walked gingerly for a day or two after that, but no one

noticed. It was Lori, in fact, who initiated their second liaison.

Bobby had avoided her, still uncomfortable with the wild thing that had

taken control of him and changed their lives. But Lori wouldn't be

denied. She went to him in his room and badgered him into putting it in

her again.

When, this time, the only sounds she made were coos of encouragement

and joy, Bobby relaxed. And to their amazement, this time was soft and

gentle, almost slow, without the raging passion that had consumed them

both in that initial encounter. Bobby went slower, though just as

deeply, and it was Lori who began to make him speed up. She had two

orgasms before he flushed her full of his seed.

They were hooked.

Just how much they were hooked was shown by the fact that they had been

driven to make love in a motel room with their mother only a few feet

away.

It had driven them until they had been caught.

Chapter Five

Lori couldn't believe it when she saw her mother follow Coach into the

bathroom. Bobby gasped as well. Both of them had seen their mother's

hand being placed on what was obviously Coach's hard dick. And both had

seen her hand squeeze that lump. And then there had been the kiss and

some whispering. Bobby, who had always had a letch for his mother

anyway, felt his prick harden. Lori was thinking about the fact that

there was a man touching her mother the way Bobby touched her.

But the reality of what Claire had said to them both barged through

those emotions.

"Oh, Bobby, she knows!” moaned Lori. "We have to get out of

here."

"Where to, Lori? Where are we going to go?" asked Bobby.

"I don't know, but I love you, Bobby and I'm not going to stop what we

do."

"We can't just run away," complained Bobby. "And why did she go in

there with him? If she was really pissed off at us, she'd still be here

screaming...wouldn't she?"

That got Lori's attention. She was the more grounded of the two,

despite the fact that she had seduced her brother without actually

setting out to do so. Bobby was right. Their mother had basically

announced that she knew they were having sex, and had then gone into

the bathroom with the coach. What did that mean? Bobby spoke and broke

her concentration.

"What do you think she's going to say to us, Lori?" asked Bobby. "You

think she'll come out of there and say, ‘Well, kids, I saw

you fucking and it looked really hot, so fuck all you want.’"

"Of course not," said Lori. "But maybe we can explain it to her...you

know, how we feel."

"Maybe you were right the first time. Maybe we should make ourselves

scarce," advised Bobby. "Hurry, we can't have much longer."

"Mom's been in there for a long time," said Lori. "What can they be

doing in there?"

"I don't know," said Bobby. "Come on...get dressed...HURRY, LORI!"

==========================

The kids were dressed for the day. Lori was standing by the door, her

hand on the handle, looking over her shoulder at Bobby, who was

throwing things in his carryall. Lori said, "Now who's holding us up?

Hurry UP, Bobby!" as the bathroom door was thrown open and their mother

charged into the room.

"What's the big rush?" Claire asked much more calmly than she felt.

Lori's face registered shock. Claire's eyes went to the bag in

Lori’s hand and the bag Bobby was stuffing full. "The game's

not until one."

Neither teen could think of anything to say. It didn't matter. Their

actions said it for them anyway.

Claire blanched as she realized her children had been planning to run.

Her heart seized as she thought of what that would have been like. They

had no idea what it took to stay alive...to stay healthy. She was

deeply disappointed that they assumed she didn't love them, or wouldn't

try to understand...or was incapable of understanding. It flitted

through her mind that she DIDN'T understand, but she still loved her

children more than anything else in the world. The thought of losing

them made her stomach hurt.

"Did you think if you ran away that all your problems would go away?"

she asked heavily. "Are you really that stupid?" Claire pointed to a

chair. "Sit down."

Chuck exited the bathroom and came up behind Claire. He touched her

elbow, but she jerked away from him.

"Chuck, would you mind if I had a few minutes alone with my children?"

"Sure, Claire. I'll go make sure everybody's up and ready for

breakfast," he said.

Lori had still not moved. Her hand was still on the doorknob when Chuck

got there. She looked at him, fear in her eyes. He winked and then

grabbed her shoulders, moving her to the chair Claire had pointed to. A

little pressure on her shoulders made her sit. He opened the door and

said, "I'll be back in fifteen minutes to take you to breakfast."

Claire wanted to sit down, but knew she needed the tactical advantage

of being higher than the children. Skills she had learned in the

business world were habit now and she didn't even think about them.

"Sit down, Bobby," she said.

"Mom…" he started, but she held up her hand.

"Don't make me yell at you, Bobby. I don't want to yell. Just sit down

and let's talk about this."

Bobby turned and sat on the coffee table his bag was laying on. No one

said anything for a few seconds. Claire tried to think of what she

wanted to talk about, but her emotions were still roiling from the

shower.

"How long has this been going on?" she asked.

At least the children didn't try to lie about it. Lori said, "Three

months."

Claire was lost. How did you talk to your children about something like

this? "I don't understand," she said. "I want to understand, but I

don't know how to do that."

Lori spoke again. "Mom, I love Bobby."

"Of course you do, he's your brother," said Claire.

"No, I mean I LOVE him , Mom," said Lori. "I don't want to be with

other boys. I don't want to have a boyfriend. I LOVE him, Mom."

Claire's head swiveled to Bobby, who was sitting up straight.

"I feel the same way," he said.

Claire tried to lighten the mood. "Well, I'm happy that you don't want

a boyfriend too, at least."

Neither teen smiled.

"Sorry," said Claire. "I'm a little nervous. In the last twelve hours a

lot has changed for me and I'm not at all used to those changes." She

shook her head. "But one thing needs to be clearly understood. We are a

family. And if we have some problems, then we'll work on them as a

family. Running away won't do anybody any good and it would have just

killed me if something would have happened to you two. So the first

thing you have to do is promise me you won't run away."

Both Bobby and Lori had expected shouting...maybe threats. Bobby had

even felt there was a chance that their mother would throw them out.

But her behavior, if not a polar opposite, wasn't anywhere near what

they had expected. And exacting that promise from them actually made

them feel better about things. With that off the table, they didn't

have to think about it and all it would entail.

Bobby looked at Lori. There was yearning in her eyes. She nodded.

"OK, we promise," said Bobby for them both.

Claire felt relief herself. "Now, the second thing I want you to

understand is that you're my babies and I love you." She saw the

reaction in the faces of her children. "Come on...you know what I mean.

I know you're not babies, but you used to be, and every mother thinks

like that. The important thing is that I love you both. I don't

understand what you've done, but that doesn't matter. I love you."

One of the things Claire had learned about personnel problems was that,

during a counseling session, it was usually valuable to find out what

questions the employee being evaluated had. Sometimes they brought

things up themselves that the boss wanted to talk about anyway.

"What questions do you two have about all this?" she asked. As she

thought about that she decided that had been a stupid thing to say.

"Are you going to make us stop?" asked Lori.

Maybe it wasn't so stupid after all.

"I don't know," said Claire. "I have to think about that."

Both youths were shaken by her answer. They had expected a very quick

effort by their mother to forbid them to do anything ever again and

both were prepared to fight for their love. Now, though, her answer

didn't require a fight and their thoughts fragmented as they tried to

adjust.

Claire thought about what Chuck had said. "You probably wouldn't stop

if I told you to," she said. "And I can't make you fall out of love."

She frowned. "But what you're doing is dangerous and you need to

understand that. It's dangerous because Lori could get pregnant. It's

dangerous because society says it's taboo, and if anyone found out

there would be a scandal. Chuck already knows, but I don't think he'll

make a fuss about it. That's not true of others, though."

"Coach knows?" Lori's voice rose to a soprano whine.

"You two made enough noise last night that I wouldn't be surprised if

the people in the room next door know about it," sighed Claire. Bobby

rocked backwards and Claire held up her hand. "It wasn't that bad. I

was exaggerating, but you were a lot louder than you thought you were.

Both nights."

Lori blushed. "You heard us...both nights?"

"It's not all that dark in the room, dear. I saw you too."

"When you got up and went to the bathroom?" asked Lori.

Claire nodded.

Lori turned to her brother and hissed, "I TOLD you so, Bobby. You

should have LISTENED to me."

"Stop!" said Claire firmly. "Fighting between yourselves won't solve

anything either." She asked something she'd been curious about, but

didn't want to ask sooner. "How did this happen?" she asked. "I mean

how did it get started?"

Lori looked at Bobby, but he shrugged, as if to say "Don't ask me." She

glared at her brother when it became obvious she would have to answer

that question.

"Well, we were cooking one day. We were making pies and cookies and

cake."

Claire remembered that day. She'd come home to find the kitchen

completely trashed, a whole pan of cookies burnt to a crisp, and her

children giddy with laughter. They'd been so happy she couldn't be

angry with them for failing to clean up. And, they had worked willingly

and happily together to straighten things out. She nodded so that Lori

would go on.

"And we started teasing each other," said Lori. She darted a look at

Bobby. "And the teasing got kind of excited and we got kind of excited

and things got kind of complicated and it just happened."

Lori looked at her mother to see if such a vague description was going

to fly. Claire's eyes were unfocused. She was thinking about how well

that description could be used for what had just happened in the

bathroom. Then she thought about what had happened in the bathroom and

how wild and spontaneous it had been.

Bobby spoke. "We didn't actually intend for anything to happen. But I

got so excited I couldn't control myself and Lori couldn't make me

stop." He had decided to take the blame. He'd always felt that he

should be blamed for the initial incident. Her screams as her hymen was

torn and her pussy cruelly stretched were permanently etched in his

memory, regardless of how happy she was to welcome him between her legs

now.

Lori waved a hand dismissively. "Don't pay any attention to him, Mom.

He thinks he raped me, but it was actually the other way around. Once I

had him in my hand I wouldn't let him leave without feeling it inside

me." Her relief at finally being able to talk about her relationship

with her brother was so strong that it freed her tongue a little too

much.

Claire was, in fact, a little shocked that Lori could talk about that

so lightly. It made her a little suspicious. "So, are you two sexually

active with anyone other than each other?"

Both children shook their heads immediately, and together. Their

response was too immediate to be false...unless they had practiced it.

Claire looked at Bobby. "And what have you done to protect her, Bobby?"

He looked uncomfortable. "Well, we use condoms most of the time." Lori

snorted. He glared at her. "OK, sometimes."

Claire finally decided she could sit down. She chose the bed. It still

gave her a tiny height advantage.

"I have three friends at work who use condoms for birth control," she

said. "They're all pregnant."

Both teen's heads jerked towards each other at that comment.

"Yeah, condoms are a lousy way to prevent pregnancies. They break, and

leak, and have pinholes in them," said Claire, like it was a discussion

about how to chop carrots.

"I didn't know that," said Bobby.

"Which is why you probably shouldn't be having sex. You need to learn

about adult things before you do adult things," said Claire.

"We're not going to stop, Mom," Lori said firmly. Chuck had been right.

"Even if continuing gets you pregnant?" asked Claire.

"I love Bobby," Lori said stubbornly. "And if I get pregnant, I'll love

our baby too."

"Well, now THERE'S a plan for the future," snorted Claire. "Look, kids,

I love you both, and I'm NOT sorry I had you, but I probably had you

too soon. And when your father left, I was too young to get a good job

and we had to really struggle for a long time. I don't want you to have

to go through that."

Lori looked at her mother thoughtfully. "Mom, if I got

pregnant—from anybody—would you make me move out?"

Claire snorted again. "Of course not. That's the last thing I'd want

you to do. I just told you it's hard to raise a baby. If you were

married, then yes, you'd have to go live with your husband. But you

can't marry Bobby. Nobody's going to allow that."

The door opened and Chuck walked in. "Time's up," he announced. "Ahhhh,

I see there aren't any bloody corpses lying about, so I have to assume

that things have been civilized. That's good, because I'm hungry and if

there had been murder and mayhem the police would come and we'd have to

all answer questions and I'd just starve to death." His attempt at a

joke had been so long that he ended up panting a little. "Anybody

hungry?"

While he didn't get the chuckles he hoped for, Chuck's intrusion wasn't

a problem either. Everyone had had their say…to a point. All

three Richardsons stood up and they went to breakfast

==========================

The day was spent chasing around a perplexing mix of emotions. Nothing

had really been "decided." Lori and Bobby still didn't know what their

mother was going to do about...them. And "them" was something that was

so important to both of them that it affected their behavior. Lori

didn't have quite the verve that she usually displayed when she cheered

on the team. Bobby fumbled the ball twice and at halftime the team was

behind by fourteen points.

Claire, watching the game, had a hard time paying attention to what was

going on. Every time she looked at her son or daughter, all she could

conjure up in her mind's eye was Bobby hunched over Lori, her legs

spread in welcome, as he grunted in that special sexy way that meant he

was filling her with his spunk. That, added on top of her own emotional

turmoil—whenever she looked at Chuck her stomach did

flip-flops—began to rob her of the joy she usually

experienced when she saw her children doing what they loved to do.

In short, her life...and the lives of her children...had been knocked

topsy-turvy.

As sometimes happens to adults in that situation, usually when they

aren't at all ready for it, her mind began to question some things she

thought WERE "decided." She had pretty well become resigned to the fact

that there was no man in her life. In fact, she realized, she had

unconsciously kept men at bay, feeling that she didn't need a man in

her life any more. Now, after what had happened in the shower, and the

feeling in her stomach when she looked at Chuck, Claire's decision that

men weren't worth the effort it took to have a serious relationship had

taken a few hits. Then there was the whole incest thing with her kids.

Incest was wrong. Everybody said so. It ruined the families that were

involved in it...didn't it?

But her children were obviously happy, and normal in every other way

she could think of. They got good grades, were reasonably popular, and

seemed well adjusted when compared to other brothers and sisters she

saw together. Nothing had happened in the three months they claimed to

have been having this relationship that made anything look different at

all to Claire. Was it actually possible for a brother and sister to

love each other...that way...and for it to actually work out well?

So many of Claire's assumptions about her life were in question that

she didn't even know HOW to think about them, much less WHAT to think

about them.

Chuck nudged Claire and her head jerked as she realized she had been

staring at the stats sheet in her lap for quite a while.

"Claire, I need you to pay attention," said Chuck gruffly. It was his

"coach" voice. "I think I might be in love with you, but I need you to

pay attention to the game," he said.

Claire's head jerked again in surprise. That was all she needed. He

might be in LOVE with her?!

She ground her teeth in frustration, and blushed, but nodded tersely.

"OK," she said.

Claire had the capacity to be single minded and she called on that

talent now. Statistics were kept in two identical books. Volunteer

students maintained them, but one of the volunteers had been unable to

attend the contest, so Claire had offered to do that. She and the boy

who had the other book were sitting side by side, and she leaned over

to talk to him, catching up her sheet. Then she paid strict attention

to the game, shoving her other thoughts away.

It was then that she was able to notice that Bobby wasn't playing well.

She began watching him more closely and saw the frequent looks he shot

to the sidelines...not at the coach...but at his sister...and at his

mother. Knowing how roiled her own emotions were, she had no trouble

identifying what was on Bobby's mind.

During a time out, when he ran over to huddle with the coaches, she

pulled at his shoulder pads.

"You keep your mind on the game," she barked.

"I can't," he said.

"Bobby, honey," she said, her voice pleading. "We'll get through

this...difficulty. We'll work on it as a family. But if you can't

discipline yourself when things get difficult, how can we ever make

this all work out? I love you. I'm not going to stop loving you. Lori

obviously loves you too. But...that...can't be the only thing in your

life, Bobby. You have other responsibilities."

"All I can think about is where I'll be sleeping tonight," Bobby said

miserably.

Claire thought. Her questions about whether society was right or not

boiled over in her mind. Who were strangers to tell her…and

her wonderful children...what was right and wrong for them?

She made a decision she couldn't believe she was making. "Well, if you

don't start paying attention to the game I may make you sleep with ME

tonight. There are only two beds in the room. If you want to sleep in

Lori's bed tonight you'd better get back in there and kick some ass!"

Unbeknownst to Claire, her "threat" to make her son sleep with her

played to the overwhelming emotions that were surging through his body.

Unbeknownst to Claire, she had suggested what evolution had primed men

to believe: If you wanted the best women...the most fertile women...the

most desirable women...you had to be the alpha male in the group.

And, as far as Bobby was concerned, his mother and sister WERE the most

desirable women in the group. The surge of adrenaline and testosterone

in his system caused his muscles to swell and his mind to sharpen. He

was primed for combat.

And it made a difference. The fourteen point advantage the other team

was enjoying melted away in a mere three series. Claire felt a surge of

excitement as she saw his play improve dramatically. At one point, when

the defense was on the field, Claire saw Bobby run over to his sister

and hold an animated discussion with her. Lori glanced at her mother

and then back at Bobby and her level of participation in the game

increased as well.

In the end, the team won by six points.

After the game the atmosphere was electric with excitement. They had

advanced to the semifinals and, if things went well, were only two

games away from claiming the trophy. All the kids were giddy, talking

too loudly, full of energy, even though they'd just played a hard game.

Chuck called them all together. "OK," he started. "I know you all are

excited, but this is the time discipline is needed." Claire saw Bobby

look at her and grin. Chuck went on, his hands out, facing the group.

"So even though right now you don't feel tired, and you want to party,

you really need to think about getting some rest. We have a big game

tomorrow and you need to be fresh and able to concentrate. We had a

pretty miserable first half today. Let's not have that problem

tomorrow. So after supper, get to your rooms and keep the socializing

to a minimum. Watch TV or something and try to get some extra sleep."

There were groans of disappointment from both girls and boys. The boys

had, at some level, done what Bobby had done—fight for their

right to claim the woman of their choice. And the girls had watched,

their own hormone levels elevating as they appreciated the strength and

vitality of the potential mates their unconscious minds saw cavorting

on the field.

Both Claire and Chuck recognized the sexual tension in the kids. It was

easy. They felt the same tension themselves. At supper they ate alone

together at a small table, letting the kids mingle and drift from table

to table. Claire noticed that Bobby and Lori started at different

tables, but ended up at the same one.

Chuck saw her looking at them. "So, have you decided what to do about

them?" he asked.

She turned her gaze on him and felt her pussy tense up. "I haven't even

decided what to do about YOU." She smiled a wan, tired smile.

"That's easy," he said confidently. "Just love me."

"I've only known you for a week," she said. The memory of their passion

in the shower flooded through her and she flushed, heat suffusing her

face. "You must think I'm a slut."

He put his spork down on the table as if it were fine silver, and then

wiped the corner of his mouth with a paper napkin.

"Slut isn't a word I'd use with you," he said, his voice level. "I have

standards. I wasn't actively looking for a woman to complicate my

life," he said. "But if I had been, it certainly wouldn't have been a

slut." He looked at her for a long, agonizingly silent moment. "I've

been with two women in my life," he continued. "The first was a girl in

high school. I don't just jump in bed with any woman I happen to share

a motel room with."

"I don't understand you at all," said Claire, full of self doubt

suddenly. "I'm divorced with two teenage children. I'm older than you.

You're gorgeous, and unattached…you could have any woman you

want!"

"Let me see," he said, leaning back in his chair. "What do I look for

in a woman? Gosh...I don't really know," he said with a hint of sarcasm

in his voice. "Well, I suppose I demand that she be beautiful. And

intelligent would be nice. And, oh yes, she has to be susceptible to my

charming approach...you know...lure her into a motel room with her two

kids watching and then jump her bones while she's not looking." He

smiled tightly. "You know, just the average woman. I wonder if I'll

ever find her."

"Joking about this won't help," said Claire, her appetite suddenly gone.

"Claire," he said, and her stomach did flip flops at the way he said

it. "What happened between us was fast, and furious, and unexpected for

both of us. But I can't question how I feel about you. I know you're a

careful woman, who has her own set of plans and dreams, and that I

might not fit into those plans and dreams. But I also know plans and

dreams have a way of changing. I'd like you to give me a chance. I

think you'd really like me when you get to know me. I don't care about

any age difference. I just care about the way I feel about you."

Claire felt her emotions roil again. "You probably just want to get in

my pants again, you sliver tongued...man."

"Desperately," he agreed. "Immediately if possible. I mean not here, in

the restaurant...but maybe outside? In the bus? I can command the kids

not to watch."

"There you go joking again," she complained.

"Who says I'm joking? I can't deny how I feel about you. What happened

in the bathroom this morning was amazing. And it's even more amazing

because I LIKE you too!"

Out of the corner of her eye Claire saw movement. She looked up to see

Bobby approaching their table.

"Mom?" he said. "About what you said this afternoon. Are you really

going to make me sleep in your bed tonight?” He didn't

actually sound like he was upset at the idea.

Chuck's eyebrows rose. He was a man, and he knew what lust looked like

in another man. Did Bobby lust after his mother too?!

Claire looked at Chuck helplessly. "I threatened to make him sleep with

me if he didn't concentrate on the game," she explained.

"And you thought that was a threat? I'm amazed he didn't fumble the

ball twice on purpose!" He looked at Bobby with a calculating eye.

"Well, too bad, bucko," he said to Bobby. "You DID concentrate on the

game, so you're stuck with your sister.” He looked startled

that he'd said it out loud and turned red. "I mean...um...that's

between you and your mother. Oh man, I'm going to go get something to

drink. I think I just put my foot in my mouth."

Claire couldn't get her mind wrapped around the concept that her

"threat" might have been perceived by Bobby the same way it might have

been perceived by Chuck. She looked at her son, who was blushing, as if

what Chuck had suggested was...true. To her, her threat had been to

deny him a place next to Lori. But Chuck was suggesting that Bobby

might have performed well BECAUSE the idea of sleeping with his mother

was...exciting! With everything that had happened she didn't know what

to think or how to feel about it all. She was astonished that the mere

thought of "sleeping" with her son didn't disgust her at all. Her mind

whirled with doubts and uncertainties.

"I think we need to finish our talk," she said, trying to dismiss the

idea that her son might feel about her the same way he felt about his

sister. "Why don't you go get Lori and let's go back to the room. Chuck

can take care of the rest of them for a while."

Chapter Six

Mother and children walked, as there was no other way for them to get

back to the motel. It was a strained, silent walk at first. Bobby had

told Lori what their mother had said. And Lori had some idea of how

Bobby might have heard that comment. She had conflicting feelings about

that too. She thought of Bobby as "hers," even though she was his

sister. But she knew how Bobby felt about his mother, even if his

mother didn't know that.

Claire tried to get things started. "Look, I know what I'm SUPPOSED to

think about you two doing what you do together."

She walked on a few steps.

"And I know that you two love each other."

She didn't know how to express her feelings.

"Part of me wants to demand that you stop...but another part of me

wants to celebrate your love. And now Chuck suggests that you want

to... with me..." She looked at Bobby, who was walking head down. "I

don’t know what to do," she said in a defeated voice.

"I told you it was obvious," growled Lori to her brother. "Did you

really think nobody would notice how you look at her? How you look

at...us?"

Bobby looked distinctly uncomfortable. Lori, having a streak of typical

teenager in her, decided to just call things as she saw them.

"Bobby has always had a kind of sexual attraction to you, Mom. And that

day when we were teasing each other, like I told you before, I sort of

transferred that to me...accidentally. But then it was so exciting and

I wanted to know what it felt like and we just sort of ended up doing

it. But he loves us both, Mom." She looked at her mother to see what

the reaction was.

Claire's heart had seized when Lori said Bobby was attracted to her

sexually. She'd heard the rest, but hadn't been able to process it.

"That's just CRAZY!" said Claire, but she saw Bobby flinch. "Is that

TRUE, Bobby?" she asked.

Bobby too had felt a moment of panic when his sister admitted his

secret lust for his mother. But her plaintive question didn't sound

like she was disgusted—only like she was seeking independent

confirmation of a fact she'd heard but wasn't sure was, in fact, a fact.

Bobby was still on a high from winning the game. That, combined with

his feelings for his mother and his sister, and the fact that he hadn't

been thrown in the street by Claire, had him on a razor's edge of self

control. He stopped and faced his mother.

"OK, yes, I've had dreams about you. It's always been that way. I don't

understand it, but it's true. And I never lusted after Lori or anything

until that day when all of a sudden I couldn't control myself around

her. I know I'm not supposed to feel that way about either of you, but

I DO!"

It was obvious he was frustrated.

"And I don't want to change it. Even though I know I should." His voice

was anguished.

"But why would you want ME?" said Claire, dazed. "I'm your MOTHER!"

"I know that," said Bobby, sounding even more frustrated. "I can't help

it. You're beautiful and I love you. I KNOW that's how I feel. I can't

just STOP loving you, even if it's in ways I'm not SUPPOSED to love

you."

Claire replayed what she'd said in her head during the game.

"So when I said I'd make you sleep with...me..."

"I got crazy," finished Bobby. "The thought of that just made me crazy.

I love Lori and we've even talked about being together for life, but I

can't help but love you too."

"And that made me jealous," said Lori suddenly. "But I know we're not

supposed to do things together too, and you're my mother and I love you

too, so I shouldn't be jealous. But I am. I don't know what to think

EITHER!" she ended, tears gathering in her eyes.

The whole thing was ludicrous, Claire thought. Her whole world was

suddenly just flat crazy. She had strong feelings for a man she'd only

known for a week. She'd made wild, passionate love to that man, in

violation of every rule she had for herself concerning sex. Her

children had been committing incest for months and demanded to be

allowed to continue. And NOW, she found out that her son wanted to

commit incest with HER too! It was just too much to deal with.

Out of pure self defense, so she didn't just go completely mad, she

tried to make some decisions. If she could just make some decisions

maybe all this would become manageable.

"I don't think you should sleep with me tonight," she said to Bobby. It

didn't come out like the obvious statement it should have been.

But Bobby nodded. He actually looked relieved. "Thanks," he said,

confirming the look on his face. "I don't know what I would have done."

"I do," said Lori a little grumpily.

Both mother and brother stared at her.

"Well, I know what he's like! He's hard to resist when he's right there

with you!"

Claire thought about how much "resistance" she'd put up with Chuck in

the bathroom.

"OK, we'll deal with that problem later," she said. "For now, I'm going

to have to let you two...” She couldn't say it out loud. She

tried to exert some kind of parental control. "But we HAVE to get you

on the pill, Lori."

Claire's doubts about what she'd just said were bombarded by the

intense joy that suddenly bloomed on Lori's face. She flung herself at

her mother in a tight embrace. "OH THANK YOU, MOMMY!" she squealed.

"You don't KNOW how happy that makes me!"

Lori, having some kind of feminine instinct that caused her to push her

advantage at the moment, went on.

"And you're going to keep doing it with Coach!" she demanded. "You've

needed a man in your life for a long time, Mom, and Coach is wonderful!"

Claire wasn't too impressed with her daughter's characterization of the

relationship Claire had with Chuck as "doing it," but she couldn't

bring herself to complain out loud.

Then again, she had a sudden urge to "do it" right then and there. Her

emotions, already sustained at peak levels for what seemed like days,

had been assaulted further by her son's confession that HE wanted to

"do it" with her. Rather than contemplate how she felt about THAT, she

centered her physical attraction on a man that the world might approve

of.

"OK," she heard herself say, not believing she was saying it to her own

children.

In all, the rest of the walk was strange too, though not quite as

strange as the first part. Decisions had been made, but they were

strange decisions, and all three of them knew it. Lori tried to keep

the conversation going, making attempts to talk about the game, and the

fact that she was still hungry, and even bringing up Claire's desire to

redecorate the kitchen back home.

But each topic was strangled by the fact that none of them could think

about much except what might...or would...happen in the motel room that

night.

When they got to the room things didn't really improve that much. Bobby

turned on the TV in an attempt to distract himself, and suggested that

maybe they could watch a pay-per-view movie that night. When the menu

came up, the first thing on it was a movie called "Brother's Secret

Desire." The teaser suggested that "Brother" would enter into a

relationship with all the women in his family. It was rated triple X.

More than one person in the room groaned.

When Chuck opened the door and stepped in, he could feel the tense

mood. "Well, do I still have a girlfriend and a star player?" he asked

jokingly.

Lori, who had been worrying that her mother might reverse her

decisions, tried to add to the joke. "Well, you won't be sleeping with

me, Coach! At least not tonight."

Her joke fell flat as Bobby and Claire both glared at her.

"Look, I don't want to cause any tension," said Chuck. “If I

need to sleep on the bus to make things more comfortable I will."

"NO!" said Claire, before she could even think about it. All three of

the others in the room stared at her. Claire made another

decision...for the sake of making a decision.

"The sleeping arrangements will not change. Chuck and I are adults. You

two are ACTING like adults, so let's just all be adults about this."

Chuck tried once more. "When it comes to being adult...I'm your boy."

He grinned.

That time it worked. Lori giggled and Bobby smiled. Claire, still

consumed with physical feelings, simply got up, went to Chuck, took him

in her arms, and kissed him firmly.

"You'd better not ACT like a boy tonight," she said. She felt a sudden

release of tension in her own body as she accepted her sexual feelings

and realized that a large part of that release was due to the fact that

she could admit her feelings in front of her children.

Suddenly, Claire felt like she could celebrate what she'd stumbled

into, even if it was strange and taboo, at least in part.

She turned to her son and daughter. "Wouldn't you two like to go visit

some friends or something?" she asked.

To her surprise, Lori stood up. "No," she said. "I think I want to do

the same thing YOU want to do right now." She bent over and removed her

saddle oxfords, and then her socks. Then she stood up and gripped the

hem of her cheerleader's sweater, in preparation for pulling it over

her head.

"And, seeing as how we're almost all family here, I'm not going to be

shy about it!" said the cheerleader.

Ten seconds later she was standing, dressed only in her sports bra and

skirt.

Lori looked at her mother. "Mom, if you don't want Coach looking at me,

you'd better do something to distract him."

Chuck was, indeed, looking at one of his cheerleaders. He had the same

feelings toward his cheerleaders that any man would...that he

suppressed...for his own good and theirs. He turned to Claire.

"Please distract me," he said, making sure Lori was behind him.

Claire stared at him in wonder. Could he really be comfortable with

what was about to happen? "Are you sure?" she asked.

The look in his eyes convinced her. "We have a bed check to make in

about an hour. Let's start with the beds in this room."

Maybe it was the emotional level of the people in that room. Maybe it

was the sudden freedom to do what they all wanted to do. For whatever

reason, the awkwardness that SHOULD have made itself felt...didn't.

Lori unashamedly got naked, ignoring her mother and Coach.

Claire, eager to do something...anything...to distract her mind from

what was happening, simply began to disrobe, ignoring her children and

concentrating on the look in Chuck's eyes as he watched her.

Bobby, unable to discipline his eyes, watched as both his mother and

sister got naked. By the time he got his pants off his cock was iron

hard and dripping.

Chuck couldn't help but look in the mirror, peeking at Lori as her

young body came into view. That, and the knowledge of what was about to

happen, made him harder than he'd ever been in his life and his prick

bounced in anticipation as he got naked too.

The level of passion in the room was so high that no foreplay was

necessary. Both women were ready—physically,

emotionally—in all ways, they wanted to be bred. Both men

were willing and capable of doing the breeding, and it took place

quickly.

Lori, knowing her brother better than Claire knew Chuck, pushed him

down so she could control penetration and speed.

Claire wanted Chuck's muscled body over hers, dominating her...TAKING

her, so that she could pretend, at some level, that it was HIS idea

rather than hers. She was used to being in charge. Right now she wanted

to be...taken.

There was a sigh of happiness from Lori and a groan of satisfaction

from Bobby as Lori positioned his prick and sank down on it, driving it

to her cervix.

Chuck teased Claire by putting the tip of his prick in her gaping, wet

slot and then suckling her nipples while he prodded her pussy ever so

gently. Claire was impatient, though, and her hands fastened on his

hips and pulled with force that was surprising.

"You bastard," she moaned. "Don't do this to me."

"Don't do what, Claire?" asked Chuck.

His sudden removal of his lips to talk was agonizing to Claire's

tortured and sensitive nipples.

"FUCK me, you bastard," she groaned.

"Don't fuck you, Claire?" he teased.

"Don't make me beg in front of my children," gasped Claire.

"Oh," he said, returning to her nipples.

Then he powered his cock to HER cervix, in one rushing lunge that took

her breath away. By the time she got enough air in her lungs to make

noises, he had already withdrawn and pummeled her sopping pussy three

times.

Claire shook with the violence of Chuck's thrusts. As firm as they

were, her breasts jiggled and flopped, and her legs scissored further

open as she made nonsense sounds deep in her throat.

Lori, sitting on her brother's stiff prick, turned her head to watch as

her mother was ravaged. Seeing Coach Bondurant's muscled body covering

her mother's, his thick cock slicing in and out of her mother's pussy,

was so shocking and erotic that she had an orgasm. Her pussy rippled

and fluttered as she ground it down on her own stiff thick prick.

Bobby, over-stimulated by the events of the day, turned his head too,

and saw Coach doing what he'd dreamed of doing for years. He promptly

blasted his sister's pussy full of warm sticky spunk. Her pussy muscles

suddenly started milking him, and he lunged upward as his balls emptied

into his sister's belly.

Claire was having her own orgasm, also a product of having been horny

all day, and suddenly being able to give in to her lust. She hoped, in

the middle of that orgasm, that Chuck would go on for hours.

Chuck, of all of them, was possibly the only one in control of his

body. The feel of Claire's clasping pussy around his seldom-used tool

was so wonderful that he wanted it to last. When she had what was

obviously an orgasm under him, he took the time to slide in and rub her

clit with the base of his cock, loving the feel of her body welcoming

him inside it. Then he set about making that happen again.

Lori felt her brother's seed splashing into her pussy. She was, at

once, happy to feel it, and a little sad because she knew he'd get soft

and she wasn't ready for him to get soft yet. She sat and rocked,

keeping his softening cock firmly in her slot. From experience she knew

that he would recover in a few minutes. She could wait. While she

waited she watched as Coach did amazing things to her mother.

He went on and on, and Lori could recognize that her mother was having

multiple orgasms as her head flailed, her hair flying, and her fists

gripped the bed covers that hadn't even been pulled back in their haste

to make their sexual joining. Lori couldn't help but wonder what it

would feel like...to be under that muscled body, to be stroked for that

long.

For the first time in her life Lori was interested in a cock other than

her brother's.

Bobby was watching too, and was feeling decidedly inadequate. He had

always been able to make his sister squeal with excitement when they

made love, but watching his mother being rodded and reamed made him

realize that there was a level of control far beyond what he'd been

able to develop. He imagined being able to fuck his mother that

long...what it would feel like to lie on her full soft breasts as he

pounded her like Coach was pounding her. He felt his prick respond to

that desire.

He reached up and took control away from Lori by pulling her to him and

rolling to pin her.

Lori was caught unawares because she was staring in fascination at the

thick slick rod that was pistoning in and out of her mother. She'd been

unconsciously rubbing her clitty against her brother's pubic bone and

was on the edge of being able to work into an orgasm. Suddenly she was

falling and she squawked.

"Bobby!" she yipped, feeling his cock slip out of her. Then she found

herself under him as he loomed over her, and his cock, stiff again, was

nudging into her pussy. He kissed her hungrily and sucked her nipples,

like he had seen his mother's nipples get sucked a few minutes ago.

And then he pounded Lori into submission, bouncing her all over the

bed, making her jiggling body slide upwards until her head hit the wall

and began bouncing off of it. She complained and he reared backwards,

grabbing her hips and pulling her roughly down the bed as he kneed

himself backwards. Then he fell on her and began sliding his cock in

and out of her in long strokes to match those of the coach. He gave an

extra firm push when he bottomed out each time, grinding against Lori's

clit and digging deep into the mouth of her womb. She began making

appreciative sounds and thrusting back up at him, almost as violently

as he was shoving into her.

"OOOommmmmmm I'm cumming, Bobby," she whined. “Cummming soooo

goood."

"You should have made me wear a rubber, Lori," he whispered in her ear.

"I'm gonna shoot again...gonna knock you up for sure...gonna make a

BABY!" he groaned as he thrust into her one last time and his dick

pumped his seed into her womb.

Feeling that, and hearing that, made Lori squirm as she wriggled her

pussy up at him to get every drop. She didn't want to BE pregnant, but

the thought that he might be putting a baby in her belly was SO hot

that she loved the idea of the danger involved.

In the next bed Claire had finally had enough orgasms that she'd just

gone limp. Her body shook as Chuck knifed into her and all she could do

was raise her head occasionally to make her unbelieving eyes see that

his cock was STILL hard and STILL stroking her pussy, better than she'd

ever had it stroked in her life. She knew that she had to have this

again and again. All her reservations about letting him do this were

gone. She had never felt like this.

He leaned down and kissed her hard. Then, his lips inches from hers, he

spoke in a voice loud enough that everybody in the room could hear.

"This morning...in the shower," he panted. "I never got the chance...to

ask you...are you...on the pill?"

Claire heard the question and all that it implied.

"Nooooooooooo," she moaned.

He panted on. "You want me...to pull... out?"

Claire's mind whirled. When WAS her last period? She couldn't think.

She hadn't planned on this! He'd take it out of her if she told him to.

She was thrilled that he cared that much.

But her pussy didn't want to be empty.

What if she got pregnant? What if this man...this wonderful man...was

in the process of creating life in her womb? Her thoughts flashed to

her children...in bed next to her...moaning lustfully as they did

exactly what she was doing. If Denny could create two such wonderful

children...what would Chuck's be like?

"Noooooooooo," she rasped.

"You know...what this...could mean?" he insisted, shoving in deep.

"Yessssssssssss," she whined. "Cum in meeeeee."

He pulled back one more time and dug deep. She felt his nectar rush

forth and saturate the end of her satisfied pussy. She imagined that

thick, white, potent seed pouring into her womb...surrounding an egg...

She hugged him to her fiercely, all her remaining energy going into

that embrace as he gave her what she now craved.

Both couples cuddled and were very happy doing so when suddenly a loud

knock at the door shocked them all rigid.

"Coach?" came a plaintive cry through the door. "Are you in there?"

Claire bolted from the bed, snatching up her clothing, which was lying

everywhere where it had been flipped, thrown or tossed. She turned to

Lori who had also jumped up, her brother's sperm streaming from her

pussy, pushed out by abdominal muscles that had clenched violently as

she got up. Her clothes were almost in one pile and she grabbed them.

Both women darted for the bathroom.

Chuck calmly got up and pulled on the pants and shirt he'd been wearing

all day. He nodded to Bobby and said, "Act asleep," softly. Then he

went to the door. Charlie Waters was outside, shifting from foot to

foot when Chuck opened the door.

"What's the problem, Charlie?" he asked.

Charlie tried to peer into the room. "Are you alone, Coach?"

"Bobby's trying to sleep. What's the problem, Charlie?" he repeated. He

stepped out and let the door close on his hand.

"The problem is we have a chance to take the championship and a few

people are going to mess that up for us!" complained Charlie, who was a

skinny second string receiver. He'd joined the squad at the insistence

of his father, who had played when he was in school. Charlie wasn't cut

out for football, though, in his own mind.

"What's going on?" asked Chuck.

"You know the room Frank and them are in?" asked Charlie. That room

contained four of his seniors, who had asked to room together, it being

their last year playing and all. Chuck had suspected they might have

ulterior motives, but let it go.

"Yes," said Chuck.

"Well, Tiffany and Sharon and two other girls are in there with them,

and the door's closed, and they're making noises," said Charlie.

Tiffany and Sharon were two of the senior cheerleaders. Charlie had had

fantasies about them for over a year. The thought of what might be

going on in the room overcame his reluctance to be labeled a snitch.

"What kind of noises?" asked Chuck.

"The kind of noises..." started off Charlie. He had been about to say,

"like there's SEX going on!" but decided to say, "necking noises." It

sounded ridiculous, but Chuck didn't laugh.

"You might get a chance to play yet, Charlie," said Chuck. Two of his

star receivers were in that room.

Charlie gulped. His motivation had been to break up the soiling of his

fantasies—NOT to actually get on the field.

"I'll take care of it, Charlie," said Chuck, opening the door to go put

on his shoes.

Charlie, realizing that what he'd just done might end up with him

making a fool of himself on the field in front of the whole school,

suddenly decided that the kids in that room needed to be warned. He

took off running like the receiver he was.

Claire had the bathroom door open slightly and was peering out through

it as Lori pulled her cheerleading outfit back on.

"Mom," she dragged it out, complaining. "Bobby's stuff is going to soak

into my uniform!"

Claire looked over her shoulder at her grown up...adolescent daughter.

"That's the price you pay when you decide to play," she said tersely.

She suddenly thought about her own womb and what might be happening in

it right now. She was surprised how little she cared at the moment.

That got her thinking about her last period. When she worked it out in

her mind she took a deep breath. There probably couldn't have been a

worse time for her to get her pussy filled with dangerous sperm than

the last two days. She saw Chuck come back in the room and close the

door. She went out into the room.

Chuck looked at her and sighed. She had that tousle headed, slightly

flushed look of a well-fucked woman. He felt not a little pride, and a

desire to continue where they'd left off, but pushed that down.

"Charlie Waters says there's a sex party going on in one of the rooms,"

he said.

Claire felt panic. "Which room?" she gasped.

"Not this one," he smiled. "We need to go down there. If you take a

minute or two to put on your shoes it should be all over by the time we

get there. I told Charlie he might have to play. You should have seen

the panic on his face."

Claire looked at him with an arched eyebrow.

He smiled sheepishly. "Well, would YOU have wanted to get caught when

you were in high school?" He stood up. "Besides, getting there too late

will still put a scare into them. They'll know they were almost caught

and that will make the rest of the kids less likely to fool around,

don't you think?"

In a strange way, Claire thought he made perfect sense.

Chapter Seven

Five minutes later Claire and Chuck were walking side by side. Having

visited the manager, they were approaching room 203 with key in hand.

They were about ten feet away when the door burst open. Tiffany Jewell

and Ramona Hodgkins dashed out to come face to face with the coach and

Claire. Both were dressed in their cheerleading uniforms. The hem of

Ramona's skirt was caught in the back where it had obviously been

accidentally tucked inside her panties. There was something glistening

running down Tiffany's right inner thigh.

"Stop right there," ordered Coach in his coach's voice.

"We were just getting some towels," babbled Ramona.

"Really?" asked Claire, feeling bad for just having done exactly what

these two girls had done and now having to catch them at it. "Where are

they?"

Both girls looked at their empty hands, like somebody had told them

hair would grow on their palms if they masturbated and they were

checking to see if it was true.

"Wait right over there." Chuck pointed to the front window.

The door had closed behind the girls with a sharp slam and Chuck keyed

it open, swinging it wide. Claire followed him inside.

Three of the boys were in bed, covers up to their chins. Frank Zeliff

was sitting on a chair, trying to put shoes on. He had lipstick all

over his face.

Frank looked up, his eyes wide. "Hey Coach," he said weakly. "What's

up?"

"What are you guys doing in here?" asked Chuck.

Danny Pruett said, from bed. "We're trying to sleep, Coach...like you

said."

Chuck moved to the bed, reached down and whipped the covers off.

Danny's limp prick lay in a spermy mess that soaked his pubes and

balls. Claire stared before Danny covered his genitals with his hands.

He didn't say anything.

Chuck turned to the other bed, which had two boys in it. They were

clutching the covers under their chins so tightly their knuckles were

white.

"Do I have to show Mrs. Richardson what you two look like too?" he

asked.

"No Coach," they both intoned. "You got us," said George Caddy.

There was a noise from the bathroom.

Coach looked and said, "I suppose the other two are in there?"

He got four blank stares back.

Chuck nodded to Claire and she went to the bathroom door, which was

locked. She knocked and ordered, "Open up...Sex Police!" Then she

giggled. She turned around and wiped the smile off her face as Chuck

shook his head sadly.

"Sorry," she mumbled. She turned back to the door and pounded on it.

It opened and two more cheerleaders came out. They were fully dressed,

but in their hurry to get that way, each had grabbed some incorrect

uniform items. One of them was a busty girl of about five feet ten, and

the other was lucky if she was five feet tall. The big one had grabbed

a sweater top that, once she got on, was so tight she couldn't pull it

off again. Her partner had been forced to wear the larger girl's

sweater top and it almost looked like a dress on her. The tall one had

a wad of tissue paper in her hand.

Claire held her hand out. "May I see that please?"

The girl's hand...and the tissue…vanished behind her back.

There was a bra lying on the floor between one of the beds and a wall.

Claire pointed at it.

"Whose is that?"

The tall girl looked and then bent over automatically to pick up the

bra, and Claire darted her hand to snatch the tissue out of the hand

that was still behind her back.

It was a spermy mess. Claire held it up and nodded to Chuck.

Chuck knew what he had to do. He didn't feel good about it. He didn't

feel guilty at all about what he and Claire had done. They were adults.

But he had sanctioned what Bobby and Lori had done, and now he was

going to have to punish these kids. He tried to take a little comfort

in the fact that Lori and Bobby's parent had also sanctioned what had

happened. But if left a bad taste in his mouth.

"You four are benched," he pronounced.

There were four groans of complaint.

"Come on, Coach, we were just having a little fun," whined Frank.

"Your fun doesn't appear to have involved any condoms, Frank," said

Chuck heavily. What am I going to tell the parents if any of these

girls show up pregnant?"

"They won't, Coach," said Danny. "They all used suppositories."

Well, a good spermicidal might help a little, but still, the rules had

been broken. What was more important, at least publicly, was that the

eight had been caught.

It turned out that Charlie HAD come knocking on the door, telling them

that Coach was coming. But the boys hadn't believed it. There had still

been over an hour before bed check was due.

It was the girls who wanted to stop, but all four boys had been trying,

on a bet, to cum at the same time. They had insisted that Charlie was

just jealous and that nothing would happen.

By the time things had settled back down, Claire no longer felt guilty.

All four of the girls were simpering idiots. Tiffany had convinced them

that the big suppositories would protect them from pregnancy, so they

had gone along with the crazy scheme. Claire had been using the same

kind of birth control when she got pregnant with Lori.

"You have to tell your parents what happened," she told the girls once

she had them huddled together outside the room. "If you don't, we have

to. In fact, we have to anyway. You can tell them yourselves, and when

we contact them they'll already know and tell us they know. But, when

we tell them, we're going to tell them that you were told to inform

them. So you may as well do it yourselves. If you're going to try to

act adult, you also have to take responsibility for what you choose to

do."

None of the girls liked that idea, but they were left with little

choice. They left for their rooms, heads down, feet dragging.

On the way back to the room Claire spoke. "You know, if they can't do

it...we really shouldn't do it either."

He looked at her. "Ever again?"

"No, silly." She blushed at the hurt in his voice. It made her feel

good. "Just while we're here. I think my dating life is going to

improve when we get back home."

"Yes it is. OK, I'm with you," he said.

When they got to the room the kids were dressed and watching TV.

Claire explained what had happened and what decision had been made

because of what had happened.

"That means you two, too," she said.

Surprisingly, both teens just nodded their assent. They knew what was

likely to happen without those four players and it sobered them.

Chuck and Claire presided over a very quiet bed check that night. The

news had spread. The night passed uneventfully, though all of them had

a hard time getting to sleep and talked for several hours into the

night in the darkened room.

The next day the four players suited up, but sat on the bench. The four

cheerleaders were also benched, but they wore civilian clothing so they

wouldn't stand out in the crowd.

The first half went as expected, and the team was twenty-one points

behind at halftime. Parents who had come to see the game, driving for

hours, began to approach Chuck and demand to know why four of his best

players weren't in the game. Two of those sets of parents were Frank's

and Danny's.

It almost got ugly. First Frank's father tried to play it all down, but

Chuck insisted that rules were rules. Then Mr. Zeliff demanded to know

why he wasn't called and notified when the...infraction...had been

discovered. Chuck explained that the kids had been given the option of

telling their parents first. The two men began to bluster, but their

wives, thinking no doubt about what the parents of the girls involved

would say when THEY found out what had happened, pulled their husbands

away forcefully.

It should have been a slaughter.

But Chuck found out that if you take four second and third stringers,

who were motivated by the fear of public humiliation, they played a lot

better than he thought they would. The rest of the team knew their

honor was on the line too, and even though they started the game down

and angry that the coach wouldn't let their friends play, by halftime

they knew they'd have to deal with it or lose.

Claire never found out what Chuck told them in the locker room. She

heard that all four boys apologized for putting the game at risk and

demanded that their replacements be given every opportunity to succeed.

And, in the second half, the team bounced back. They were, for the most

part, a passing team, but they employed the run more than half the time

in the second half. Charlie, sure that he'd be killed if he were

tackled by the opposing linemen, decided that dancing and twisting his

way OUT of those tackles was the way to go. He had a talent for it too,

that he'd never known before. The first time he scored a touchdown, it

was on a thirty-five yard run that caused him to have to leave the

field after it was over. He had almost peed his pants and was so weak

he just ran off the field. He regained a significant measure of aplomb

when he was attacked by elated teammates who pummeled him and shouted

insanely.

Another boy, a second string running back, was smaller than Danny had

probably ever been, and the holes the line opened for him seemed big

enough to drive a truck through. He carried the ball twelve times and

always got at least eight yards on each carry. On one carry he was

finally brought down at the one yard line.

In the end, they lost, but it was only by two points. Oddly, compared

to what they had thought would happen, the team was upbeat about it.

They had discovered that they'd have a decent team the next year, and

that teamwork paid off. It was a valuable lesson.

Chuck took a lot of heat from school officials, though, instigated

primarily by Frank Zeliff's father, who demanded that Chuck be

disciplined for "losing control of the team" and for having

"insufficient chaperones to adequately supervise the students." He made

his demand at a school board meeting. No one had mentioned in public

why the four boys were benched. All Chuck had said to Mr. Black, the

principal, was that they broke nonnegotiable rules.

So, when put against the wall at the school board meeting, Chuck stood

up and said, "I made rules. It doesn't matter what they were. All that

matters is that they were broken and the kids knew what would happen if

I found out they were broken. I stand by my decision."

A school board member, a friend of Tom Zeliff, who had brought the

complaint, asked, "Mr. Bondurant, what rule exactly was broken?"

Tom Zeliff started waving, trying to get his friend to withdraw the

question, but the man didn't see him. He thrust his chin forward

belligerently.

Chuck looked at Mr. Zeliff, who tried to wave him off too, but by then

he was pissed that this whole thing had been blown out of proportion.

"The players were caught...being involved sexually...with four of the

cheerleaders," he stated flatly.

When the pandemonium died down—and that took a

while—the board members wanted to know all the salacious

details. Chuck wouldn't tell them. He said that information had been

given to the parents involved and that, as far as he was concerned, it

was in their hands. If THEY wanted to make the details public, then

THEY could, but HE wasn't going to.

Then he sat down.

The board members wouldn't drop it, though. They were under the

impression that, since they were elected officials, they had some kind

of right to know about the details of the allegations. When Chuck still

wouldn't tell them, they demanded that, since a decision had to be made

concerning whether or not the kids would be suspended or expelled from

school, they had to know the details.

Chuck stated that, since they were not actually school officials and

couldn't suspend or expel anyone, it would be a violation of the kids'

privacy to tell them what had happened.

One board member, Paul Stevenson, stood up. "Mr. Bondurant, who were

the girls involved in this incident?"

At this point only Frank Zeliff had been identified to the public at

large, and then only because his father had decided to try to throw his

weight around. Those who had been at the game knew which players had

been benched, and a few officials in the school knew. But Chuck had

told no one who the girls were. The team knew, and the cheerleaders all

knew, of course, but they had closed ranks upon returning to the school

and finding themselves in the limelight.

"The girls’ parents have been notified. I don't believe the

names of the girls are pertinent to the issue in this meeting, Mr.

Stevenson," said Chuck.

"I don't believe you want to keep your job, Mr. Bondurant," said

Stevenson.

"That's the first thing you've said all night that I agree with," said

Chuck. And he got up and walked out.

The news flew like wildfire through the community. Coach Bondurant had

caught kids having sex! Of course everyone in town knew that kids had

sex, so that wasn't odd. But the Coach wouldn't give the names publicly

and that was something the gossip mongers just couldn't resist. The

boys' names were assumed, of course, because people at the game had

seen them sitting on the bench. Rumors flew and everybody was unhappy.

Parents grilled their kids, but the kids all decided that the adults

were being nosey and stayed clammed up.

Mr. Black explained to Chuck that, by contract, he had to stay the rest

of the school year and couldn't just walk out. Chuck agreed, but stated

that if he started getting hassled by the school board, or began to get

"disciplined" for stupid things, he'd leave and they could sue him if

they wanted to. Since Mr. Black knew the names of the kids involved,

and agreed with Chuck that their situation should be handled by the

parents, he agreed. He was also under a lot of pressure, except that no

one knew that he actually knew the names.

Thankfully, even with all the noses poking into his business, Chuck was

relieved that no one seemed to have found out that he had stayed in a

room with a female chaperone. That would have blown the lid off things

even more.

Back at home, Bobby, Lori and Claire tried to settle back into what had

been routine before the trip. It was impossible. As Claire lay in her

bed she couldn't help but wonder what her children were doing. Her bed

suddenly seemed too big...and too empty. Every night she reminded

herself to get Lori to the Doctor to get a prescription for the pill.

Every morning she lost herself in work and forgot.

Lori never reminded her.

Claire was bent over her desk working on several files when a shadow

fell across her. She looked up irritably. Nancy, her secretary, knew

she didn't want to be interrupted and should have called her first.

Chuck was standing at her desk, a half smile on his face.

"Hi, I just thought I'd come in and check on my loan," he said.

Claire sat back and watched his eyes drop to her chest before coming

back up to her face.

"Your loan was final a month ago," she said. "We cut you the check and

it was cashed. I checked."

"My, my, no sense of humor at all today," he said, that maddening grin

coming to his face. "You need to eat something...get your blood sugar

up. You'd feel better," he said. "All work and no play can make a girl

cranky."

"This is a fine time to suggest...play," she said, her mood lightening.

"Kids still get recess at lunchtime. Why shouldn't we?" he smiled.

"So, where do you want to eat lunch?" asked Claire. His eyes were so

brown and deep.

"I figured, what with you having two teenagers and all, you're bound to

have a jar of peanut butter and loaf of bread," he said.

"My house?" she said meekly. She knew exactly what would happen if she

got him alone at her house.

"I don't have any peanut butter at my house," he said.

Claire felt herself melting inside. She hadn't done this for years. The

prospect of having him pressing her to the bed again suddenly made her

pussy so wet she was afraid she'd leave a spot on her chair.

"Come on," she said, rising quickly. She forced herself not to look at

the chair. On her way out she said, "Nancy, I'm going to lunch. I don't

know when I'll be back."

Nancy, who had told Chuck that Ms. Richardson didn't wish to be

disturbed, had been disarmed by his grin and his statement that he'd

take all the blame if she got mad. She looked at her boss with wide

eyes. She could see that Claire was...agitated.

"Is everything OK?" she asked.

Claire waved a hand hurriedly. She was afraid Nancy would smell her

arousal. "Fine...it's just lunch."

Chuck grinned and mouthed, "Thanks," to the secretary.

Nancy, who knew her boss pretty well after three years, sat back in her

chair. Could it be that the Ice Queen was beginning to thaw?

When they got to the house, Claire led Chuck up to the door and fumbled

with the keys. She got inside and was so agitated she couldn't turn

around and face him. She couldn't believe what he did to her self

control.

"Claire?" he said softly.

"What?" she responded, looking down at the floor.

"Are you OK with this?" he asked, coming up behind her. He placed his

hands gently on her hips. "I don't want to push you into anything."

"Oh, you're not pushing me anywhere," she sighed leaning back against

him. "I'm just helpless when I'm around you."

His hands slid around to her front and up to cup her breasts. His lips

were at her ear. "Good," he said. "I'm not hungry for peanut butter

sandwiches anymore. Where's your bedroom?"

Her hands had come up to cover his, pressing them to her breasts, and

she was breathless as she took one hand and pulled him to her bedroom.

Once there, she was able to turn and face him.

"I needed you so badly," she moaned. "But you haven't called since we

got back."

"I wanted you to have some time to think," he said.

"I was afraid you thought we were all perverts," she sighed.

"I see two kids who love each other," he said, unbuttoning his shirt.

"I see a boy who loves his mother." He started on his pants. "I see a

woman I love and can't do without, whether she loves her son

differently than society approves of or not."

"We haven't done anything," objected Claire.

"I don't want to share you with him," said Chuck, baring his stiff

prick and making Claire's breath catch in her throat. She was still

completely dressed. "But I will if I have to."

Claire felt dizzy. She had tried not to think about how Bobby felt

about her, and had forbidden herself to think about how she might react

if she were naked with her own son. When that happened she thought of

Chuck and masturbated with her eyes tightly closed.

"I need you now," she gasped.

"For a woman who needs me so badly, you sure are overdressed," he

chided. He came to her and began to unbutton her white silk blouse. Her

hands scrabbled and buttons flew. Her bra opened in the front and it

flopped apart as she released it. His fingers had unzipped the short

zipper of her gray wool skirt and she pushed it down hurriedly. Today

she had worn a garter belt instead of panty hose, but her panties were

under it. She pushed at her panties unsuccessfully and whimpered with

frustration.

"Leave them," said Chuck, pushing her to the bed. "I'll take care of

them."

He pushed her down on the bed and she writhed, wanting to feel his

weight on her. His hands went to her thighs and she raised her hips to

let him take her panties off. Instead, he pulled them aside and

burrowed his face into her wet pussy.

She had never done this before. Denny refused to put his mouth on her

sex...had basically refused to do anything other than take her

missionary style. The feeling of Chuck’s tongue in her slot

made her face hot and she was afraid she'd burst a blood vessel. She

let out an agonized groan as his tongue stabbed into her sex and then

his lips found and sucked in her clit.

"Ohhhh, you're killing meeeeeee," she moaned, her head turning from

side to side.

He stopped and her head came up off the bed in panic. "Oh don't stop!

Please don't stop," she pleaded.

"More later," he said, fisting his cock and crawling up to nestle it

into her slot. "But now let's do this."

He pushed, the side of his cock scraping along her panties where they

had been pushed aside. Always before he'd been an ardent and almost

violent lover. But this time he inched into Claire, staring into her

eyes. As he seated himself in her, he said, "I love you, Claire

Richardson."

Claire's emotions overcame her and she bawled, her hands on his ass,

gripping and pulling fiercely. She sobbed on, but her actions made it

clear what she wanted and he began to rod her pussy with long, strong

strokes. They thrashed together, straining and thrusting against each

other, their kisses sloppy. Claire's makeup smeared and ran but, had

she been able to see it she wouldn't have cared at that point. She

ached to feel her release, and when it came she sobbed again,

surrendering to the feeling of being in love again, her pussy clasping

and gripping the penis of the man she loved. And, when he groaned and

she felt his cock swell and spurt, the hot liquid she could feel

splashing in her was something she knew she'd crave. At that precise

point she also decided she wouldn't go see the doctor after all. She

wanted this man's seed to take root in her and to grow into a baby they

could raise. She didn't care if he married her or not...if they lived

together or not...she just wanted a piece of this man with her forever.

When they collapsed, both gasping for breath, he murmured the words in

her ear again, wonderingly, as if he were surprised himself at the

emotion in is voice. "I love you."

It had happened so quickly that, when she looked at her watch, Claire

realized only ten minutes had passed. She told him so. "We have time to

go again," she said hopefully.

He smiled at her, but then frowned. "I have to talk to you about

something."

There was something in his voice that made Claire's inner self take a

figurative breath to scream in anguish. It was the unspoken sound of a

man saying goodbye to a woman and she wanted to put her hands over her

ears.

"You're leaving," she gasped.

He sat up, surprise across his face. "Who told you?" he asked.

His confirmation of her fear cut through her like a rusty saber,

tearing her heart. She began to cry again, but this time it wasn't from

joy.

Chuck rolled toward her and held her. "No…don't

cry...Claire? I got a job offer," he said.

She had known deep inside her that his tenure at Hillsdale High was

numbered in mere months. The fiasco at the school board meeting had

assured that. But she'd tried to push that out of her mind, hoping

against hope that things would work out.

Chuck cupped her chin. "Claire, it's not like I'm leaving tomorrow. And

it doesn't have to be the end for us."

"Why?" she sobbed. "Where is this job offer?"

"Southeast State wants me to coach their football team. Head Coach,

Claire."

Southeast State had just had their first miserable season after several

years of winning game after game, beating schools that were much bigger

than they were. This whole end of the state was proud of them and

almost everybody had the colors of the Southeast State Tigers on their

car, or flying from their flag pole, or even painted on the curb with

their address numbers. But their coach of some nineteen years had

announced he was going to retire at the end of the season. He had

thought it would spur his team to win one last season for him, but,

instead, they were demoralized and lost all but two games.

But they had the talent to win. What they needed was a coach to put the

heart back in them. It was a wonderful opportunity for someone like

Chuck and Claire knew it. But Southeast State was in Carrolton.

"That's a hundred and fifty miles away," she whined.

"A mere three hour drive," he said, cupping one of her breasts.

"You'll be surrounded by all those college girls, with their firm round

asses and those impossibly firm tits," she moaned. "You won't even want

to think about an old hag like me."

He pinched one nipple—hard—and Claire yelped and

sat up, batting his hand away.

"What'd you do that for?" she groused, rubbing the offended nipple.

"I was trying to bring you back to your senses," he said. "If you have

any left."

"But it's so far away," she pointed out. "And you'll be busy coaching.

I know how much time you spend with high school boys. I can only

imagine it will be longer with that team. Especially when they start

winning again."

He grinned. "I'm please you have faith in my abilities. Now, just find

a way to have faith in my love for you. We'll figure something out. I

can't in good conscience ask you to quit your job and marry me, because

while this is a plum, the pay's not all that magnificent. And I assume

Bobby and Lori are planning on college, so it wouldn't be fair to them

to ask you to do that either. But we'll figure out something. OK?"

Claire wanted to believe that he was right, that things would work out.

She hugged him fiercely, which led to kisses, which led to groping,

which led to Claire climbing on top of him and riding him, holding her

hands on his muscular chest, forcing him to let her have two more

orgasms before she said he could cum in her again.

Later, when she looked in the mirror in the bathroom, she almost

screamed. Her mascara had run, making her look like a KISS groupie. Her

lipstick was smeared, her rouge was brown and pasty looking. Her hair

looked like rats had nested in it for years. She made such sounds that

Chuck came into the bathroom to see what was wrong.

"What's WRONG?" she shouted. "I look HIDEOUS! That's what's wrong!"

"What are you talking about? You're gorgeous," he said. He reached

around her to cup her breasts again and gave them a squeeze. "You're so

gorgeous I want to go again. OK? Hmm? One more time?"

His antics got her laughing and his attitude about her appearance, more

than anything else he'd said or done, convinced her that he really did

love her. If he could act that way when she looked like a Titanic

survivor...he really loved her.

Because of the time it took her to repair her makeup and hair, Claire

didn't walk back into her office until an hour and a half after she'd

left. Since Claire usually didn't take lunch at all, unless it was with

a client, Nancy paid particularly close attention to how she looked.

There were little telltale signs. There were a few wrinkles in the

blouse, because it had lain on the floor instead of having been hung

up. Her hair had been changed slightly, as if it had required an

extensive brushing. She was wearing a different color of lipstick than

she had been when she’d left. But most obvious of all was her

relaxed posture, the confident way she walked, and the smile on her

face. Claire Richardson had the look of a well-fucked woman.

Nancy was thrilled. While Claire was gone she'd made a friendly bet

with Shirley, over in accounting, and stood to make some made money if

she could find a way to get Claire to admit she'd been laid over lunch.

It was the look in that hunky man's eyes when he’d led Claire

away that had convinced Nancy to find Shirley and make the bet.

Nancy followed Claire into her office and waited until she'd sat down.

"Yes, Nancy?" said Claire, as if she'd never left her desk at all.

"Do you want me to arrange to send him some flowers?" asked Nancy.

Claire's head jerked. "Women don't send men flowers!" she said. Then

she thought about how she hadn't been in the dating field for years and

years, and things might have changed. "Do they?" she added.

Nancy smiled. "They do if they had more than one orgasm." She was

taking a chance. She knew Claire well, and they were as friendly as a

boss and employee could be, but it was still a chance.

Claire blushed. But she was an adult, and she wasn't ashamed in any way

of how she felt about Chuck.

"Better make it two dozen then," said Claire. She grinned at her

secretary. She wrote Chuck's name on a piece of stationery and handed

it to Nancy. "Have them charge it to my personal account. The bank's

not paying for this one."

Nancy was smiling from ear to ear when she left. She suddenly stopped

and turned back around. "I almost forgot. Mr. Phinneas wanted to see

you when you got back. It didn't sound like he was mad about anything."

Claire almost groaned. Clyde Phinneas was the president of the bank.

While he had never said or done anything improper, his eyes raked up

and down her figure every time he saw her. She was always on her guard

around Clyde. But he was the boss, so she got up and strode toward his

office on the other side of the building.

"Yes sir?" she said as she walked into his office.

He looked up from the papers on his desk and, true to form, his eyes

went from her face to her chest, and then down, before slowly drawing

back up to her face. "Sit down, Claire," he said.

She sat in the chair farthest from his desk and waited. Clyde was hard

to read, but he didn't look too happy.

"This...difficulty with coach Bondurant... It's very unpleasant," said

Phinneas.

Claire's stomach did a flip flop as she realized Phinneas didn't look

happy at all.

Chapter Eight

Claire had been ready to talk about a lot of issues she was associated with at the bank. It had never occurred to her that the subject of Chuck might come up.

"Yes," she said shortly.

"I believe you're dating Coach Bondurant. Is that correct?" he asked.

Claire felt heat beginning to build in her chest. "Yes sir, though I can't imagine why that would be any of your concern," she said. She immediately wished the heat in her chest hadn't been so obvious in her voice.

"You're aware that Paul Stevenson is a member of the board of directors for this bank," said Phinneas flatly. "He's concerned that there may be some public perception that your...association with the coach...may reflect poorly on the bank." He sat back and watched to see what Claire would do.

"That's ridiculous," said Claire. "And you know it."

Phinneas smiled a tight little smile. "Mister Stevenson has suggested that, if you should see fit to identify the children whose behavior ruined the chances for our school to have a state championship, he would be assured of your loyalty, and would have no guilty feelings about recommending that we retain you in your current...sensitive position."

Claire wanted to rage at the man. But she took a breath. "Mister Phinneas, I have been with this bank for ten years. No one has ever had any complaints about my performance. You, yourself, have given me the highest marks during annual evaluations. Mister Stevenson is just mad because he couldn't bully Chuck into divulging the names of those kids. And now he's trying to bully you too, Mister Phinneas. Well, he won't bully me. You have my promise on that."

"And, if it comes to loggerheads—I'm not saying it will, you understand—but if it does, what would you choose to do?" he asked.

Claire was a little confused. It was almost like the man was giving her a choice. It might only be the choice of being fired or being allowed to resign, but why would he care?

"As I said, sir, I know my job and I do it well. My percentage of loans in default is two percent, Mister Phinneas. You know that. Any bank in the state would be happy to have me." She started to stand up. She was prepared to walk out and never look back. That was a result of her anger, though, and not rational thought.

"Claire, please...sit down," said Phinneas.

Claire would never be able to tell anyone just why she decided to stay. She wanted to wag her ass at the man on her way out, sort of a "wave goodbye to this, you prick, because you'll never get your hands on it for SURE!" kind of body language. But, she sank back down in the chair and waited.

Phinneas sat up straight, businesslike, and shuffled some papers on his desk. "You are entirely correct, of course. You are one of the best loan officers I've seen in my life. You're wasted here in this one-horse town. You need to be at our corporate headquarters. I believe you are aware of where headquarters is?"

Claire knew exactly where headquarters was. It was in Carrolton...a hundred and fifty miles away.

Phinneas went on. "I've had a phone call from Rod Brown. As you know he oversees all the loan officers for headquarters. He tells me he could use a right hand man…or woman…to take charge of training loan officers across the state how to achieve loan default rates below ten percent. Are you interested?"

Claire stared at the man, who suddenly had what looked suspiciously like a twinkle in his eye.

"You'd have to move your family to Carrolton, of course, but the move would be covered by your benefits. And your salary will be roughly doubled. Aren't your children about ready to start college? I hadn't thought of that. That would be convenient, wouldn't it? And I believe they have a good sports program at the college there...for your son...of course."

He was smiling now.

Claire felt weak. She sat up anyway, though, and nailed Phinneas with her stare. "You know about the job offer, don't you?" she said.

He grinned. "Of course, my dear, I just gave it to you."

Claire shook her head. "The OTHER job offer. You knew about that before I came in here!"

"Rod is an old buddy of mine," confided Clyde. "And a football fanatic. When he heard rumors that Southeast State had offered the coaching job to some young buck from our town he called me to get the skinny on what kind of coach he was. We just got to talking and...well, you know the rest."

Claire was as astounded as if she'd seen a flying saucer. Up to this point in time, Clyde Phinneas was the coldest man she'd ever met. He rarely smiled, never chitchatted and didn't appear to have a heart at all, much less a heart of gold.

"What about Mister Stevenson?" she asked.

"He's an asshole," said Clyde, as if he talked that way every day. "All he's going to see is your house being packed up and you leaving town. I'll tell him that's what putting pressure on people results in. He'll owe me big time. By the way, I want you to choose your replacement, and I want you to train him or her first when you get to the big time. That's part of the deal, OK?"

Claire stood up. She felt shaky. She walked around his desk and pulled him to his feet by his hands.

"I need a hug, Mister Phinneas," she said. His eyes looked shocked. She pressed her lush body against his and whispered in his ear. "Mister Phinneas...once...just this once...I'd like you to squeeze my buttocks."

She felt his hands slide very tentatively to her round bottom, whereupon they gave a convulsive, tiny, little squeeze. She pushed him away and smiled. "Thank you sir...for everything. I misjudged you, and I'm sorry. I'll try not to make that mistake again."

He looked back with slightly glazed eyes. "Could I have one more little squeeze?" he whispered.

"No," she said sternly. But, before she left, she stepped closer and pecked him solidly on his lips.

As she left he called out, "I'll have the movers get in touch with you."

It was a testament to her feelings as a mother that she talked with her children first. There was the initial resistance to moving from the only place they'd ever called home. She'd expected that, and she let them vent. Then she mentioned that, since they wanted to stay to finish the school year, and since who knew how long it would take to sell the house, perhaps they could be trusted to live there with a little minimal supervision, such as occasional visits from Chuck, while she went on ahead and found a place in Carrolton for them all to live in.

"Of course, with you two about ready to go off to college and leave me all alone I might look for something with only two bedrooms. I know that means you'd have to share a room until Bobby moves out. And then, when you go to college, Lori, I could turn it into a home office or something." She watched as what that meant sank into their teenaged brains.

"We'd have to...share?" asked Lori, looking sideways at her brother.

"Yes, I know how that must disappoint you," said Claire. "And what with beds being so expensive and all, I might just buy one big one, instead of two little ones. And it would only be until you both go off to college. I know you could just live there and go to Southeast State, but I'm sure you wouldn't want to live together in that little room all through college or anything. But remember, I can always turn the job down. If staying here another year means that much to you..."

Claire almost laughed as Lori squeaked, "NO! Mom...really...this is important for you! I mean this is a big promotion, isn't it?"

"Twice the money," said Claire.

"You've sacrificed so much for us over the years," noted Lori. "It's only right that we sacrifice a little for you. Don't you agree, Bobby?"

Bobby just grinned and hugged his sister, kissing her soundly. Then he let her go and hugged his mother tightly.

"Thanks mom," he whispered into her neck. She shivered as she felt his hard body pressed hard against hers. On impulse, she kissed him on the lips...not too long...but warmly.

"You're welcome, sweetheart," she said when she pulled back.

"Hey!" barked Lori. "Hands off! You have your own man." She giggled. "Unless you want to share. I might be convinced to share some." She laughed gaily and pulled Bobby away from his mother. "Come on," she yipped. "Let's go plan."

As they disappeared toward the bedrooms, Claire wondered how much planning they'd do and how much...other they'd do. She decided to go find Chuck and talk to him next.

"THAT meeting went well!" Claire sighed to herself as she lay, sweaty and sperm soaked in Chuck's bed.

He had worked himself up to a fever pitch at the idea that they would be together. He'd proposed to her with his prick jammed almost into her womb and she'd accepted as his semen rushed into her unprotected belly. She told him about the conversation with the kids, laughing and squirming as he suckled at her engorged nipples and then, when she told him that Lori had suggested sharing men, he rolled back on top of her and deposited another load of baby batter in her welcoming uterus.

As they lay there resting after that second wild ride, he turned his head to her. "You can't let me supervise them while you're gone. If Lori comes on to me I might not be able to resist."

Claire lay there staring at the ceiling. So much had changed in her life. The changes made it seem like she'd been asleep, dreaming a drab and boring existence, and had finally wakened to a world full of color and passion and love. She never wanted to dream again. Her own real life was so much better.

Part of those massive changes had to do with her children. She hadn't know who they really were until that fateful weekend at the football tournament. And she'd resisted letting them BE who they were, because it was strange and different. She thought about Clyde Phinneas, and how wrong she'd been about him. Somewhere along the way she'd decided, somehow, that what her children shared was something precious and, while it couldn't be honored publicly, because the public just wouldn't understand, she could honor it herself.

That sharing was based on lust, as much as it was love, in Claire's opinion, and they might grow apart as the years went by and find more conventional partners. That would probably be better in the long run, but she couldn't deny them the love they now shared.

And, she felt completely unafraid of losing her lover and future husband to her daughter. She felt more secure with Chuck than she ever had with Denny, and she'd known him for far less time. If anything happened between them it would be lust alone, more than likely.

That led her to the obvious progression of thought that, if Chuck were to climb on top of Lori as they sated that lust, she and Bobby would probably end up naked and sweaty together in bed too.

She looked at that thought from several different places in her mind, trying to find one that screamed against it. There had been a scream in her mind at one time...but now she couldn't seem to find it. If she coupled with her son it would be simple lust too, even though they loved each other. But she was surprised to find that her mind didn't recoil anymore at the prospect of feeling her son climb between her thighs.

"Claire?" prompted Chuck. She had been silent a long time.

She turned her head. "Think about you...with Lori...and me... with Bobby." She let that sink in. "How does that make you feel?"

To his credit he did think about it for a moment. "I don't know," he finally said.

"Does anything in your mind scream that it shouldn't be?" she asked.

"No...there are some doubts, but nothing screaming. Does that make me a pervert?" he asked.

"I don't think so," she said. "I think that makes you human. Society created all these rules about this kind of thing, but before the rules we were just...human." Her hand strayed to his arm and she stroked it. "Nothing screams at me either," she said.

"Wow," said Chuck.

"Yeah...wow," repeated Claire.

"Why don't we just play that by ear," suggested Chuck.

"I don't think it's her ear you want to play with," said Claire, slapping his arm lightly.

He rolled over. "I love YOU," he said. "And it's YOU I want to be with." He kissed her and she knew he meant it.

"I believe you," she said simply. "One more time?"

"You wrung me out good and proper, lady," he said, smiling wanly. "I think I'm done."

"We'll just see about that," said Claire. She sat up and dove down onto his flaccid penis, sucking it into her mouth and humming.

It took a while, but she got her third pussyful before she stopped.

If Claire had thought the kids would be surprised and amazed that Chuck had asked her to marry him, or that she had agreed, she was sadly mistaken. They were elated.

They met together as a family, including Chuck in the plans, giving his opinions full weight. Not that there were any arguments about what should be done, really. Lori flirted with Chuck outrageously, and got called on it time and again, by Bobby or her mother.

Chuck never said a word. But he didn't flirt back. It was like her teasing comments bounced off a solid brick wall.

Claire, on the other hand, was much closer to Bobby than she had been in the past. She'd left off hugging him and kissing his cheek when he entered puberty, thinking that he wouldn't want that kind of attention from his mother now that he was "a man."

But she found touching him made her heart melt, so she did that a lot these days. They weren't sexual touches. Gripping his forearm while talking to him, or rubbing his shoulders while he sat and studied, leaning against him, shoulder to shoulder as they did dishes together...little touches. And she gave both him and Lori pecks on the lips as they left the house or returned. There were fewer arguments, even though Claire's rules as a mother didn't change, with the exception that Claire didn't pay much attention to whether Lori and Bobby slept in their own rooms.

She did, however, get Lori a prescription for the pill. Lori hadn't had a period since Claire had found out she and Bobby were having unprotected sex, but wasn't due for another week, so they wouldn't know for sure until then. It might be much too late to close that particular barn door. On the other hand, if it wasn't already too late, there was no sense taking further chances.

==========

Lori's teasing came to a head the night before Claire was due to drive off to Carrolton to begin her new job. She'd only be gone a week this first time, since the Holidays were close upon them, and she'd have time to come back home, or look for a new one, whichever she needed to do.

Dinner was finished, and a movie had been rented. Chuck was sitting on the couch while Bobby put the tape in the player. Claire and Lori were finishing up the dishes; Lori washing and Claire drying. It was for that reason that Lori got finished first, dried her hands and went directly to sit on her future stepfather's lap. She giggled as she plopped down.

"I don't remember sitting on my daddy's lap. This is kind of nice," she giggled, squirming.

Chuck had had all he could take. He lifted his right hand and cupped her braless breast through her T-shirt, squeezing her nipple.

"I bet you don't remember him doing that either," he said seriously.

Claire walked in to see Lori's shocked surprise at being groped. Leaving them alone to work it out she went up behind Bobby and slipped her hands around his waist to rest on his hard stomach. He was too tall to put her chin on his shoulder, so she leaned around his arm, dragging her breasts across his back.

"What are we watching?" she asked.

"The Summer of '41," he said, leaning into her. "Or my sister trying to seduce your fianc? he added.

They both turned to see Chuck, still fondling Lori's breasts, only this time with his hand under her shirt, while she kissed him.

"Should they be doing that?" asked Bobby, a tinge of jealousy in his voice.

"Should we be doing this?" asked Claire, and she lifted her lips to her son's.

Bobby's response was almost animal. He kissed her back hungrily, his tongue flashing out of his mouth and his hands dropping to the same buttocks that she had let Clyde Phinneas squeeze only a few weeks ago. He pulled her against his obviously hard penis.

Then he broke away and leaned back as far as he could with his mother holding him tightly.

"Don't start something you can't finish, Mom," he warned.

There was a squeal from Lori as Chuck pulled her down and rolled on top of her on the couch. Her T-shirt had somehow gotten in a pile on the floor. She let him settle between her legs. Even though she was wearing jeans and he was fully clothed, they looked completely sexual about what they were doing. Chuck's mouth sought out the cheerleader's nipples as she squealed some more.

"They're using the couch. That only leaves the bed for us," said Claire, her voice deep with feeling.

Bobby picked her up, carrying her like she was a little girl. She leaned against his chest as he took her and laid her gently on the bed in her room. She didn't know if that was a claim by him that he was taking her in her own bed, or if something deep inside him didn't want to use the bed he fucked his sister on. And she didn't much care at the moment. She felt release, and shame, and excitement and fear all at once as her son began disrobing. When his penis was exposed, long and straight, it was like she'd never seen it before.

He stood, frozen, as Claire slowly unbuttoned her blouse, exposing her lacy bra.

"Are these what you dreamed of?" she asked. Her fingers went to the front catch and she undid it, but only let the bra come apart a few inches.

"You do it," she whispered.

His hands came out and, so gently that she could only tell by the cool air on her nipples, he lifted the cloth and moved it aside.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered.

"You used to nurse from them," said Claire, feeling a stab in her loins as she anticipated feeling him suck again.

He leaned down and licked one nipple with just the tip of his tongue and then dropped his face into her full breast and sucked, making little noises, much like he had when he was a baby.

Claire pushed her pants down while he sucked, alternating from one breast to the other, but she could only get them just past her buttocks without dislodging him.

"My pants," she gasped, her pussy now wet.

He left off her breasts reluctantly, licking and then sucking again and finally licking a nipple again before standing up. Her pubes were exposed and the way he looked at them made her want to cover herself. Instead she raised one leg so he could pull that pant leg off. He pulled both at once and she lay quietly, legs together, arms at her side.

"Let me see," he said.

"I can't," she moaned. "I want to, but I can't."

His hands moved to her knees and under HIS pressure, she let her knees begin to move apart. Her knees came up off the bed naturally, bringing her heels closer to her buttocks as she made the saddle he'd mount her in.

"Beautiful," he whispered.

Then, almost too fast for her to react, he climbed on the bed and between her thighs, lying down on her soft body and kissing her mouth. Again his tongue dueled with hers as he ground his groin against hers. He seemed intent on kissing her forever, but now that she'd decided to do this, she wanted to feel him in her. She reached between them, making a fist to cause him enough discomfort that he'd raise up and, when he did she found his cock and directed it to her sopping pussy. Still kissing her he rammed forward instantly and then stopped, buried deep as he moaned into her mouth.

She squeezed him with muscles she'd brought back into peak shape by using them on Chuck and he surged against her, mashing her clit.

He broke the kiss and moaned.

"Mom, I can't control it. Oh Mommmmmmmm," he sighed as she felt his prick buck and squirt. He was not as big around as Chuck, though he was longer, so much so that she felt his prick digging into her cervix as it propelled his seed into her again and again.

"It's OK, baby," she said soothingly. "Mommy wants your cum." She couldn't say why she used little-boy talk with him. He certainly didn't feel like a little boy, and the fluid he was filling her belly with was little-boyish only in so far as it might MAKE a little boy in her womb. "Mommy loves your hot cum in her belly," she moaned.

Bobby grunted and his surges became short strokes, which became longer strokes as he realized he was still hard. Now he was finally doing what he'd dreamed of since his balls began making the stuff he had just soaked his mother's pussy with. His own needs satisfied for the moment, he began to pay attention to the movements and sounds his mother was making. They were different than what Lori did, but similar, too, and he was able to read that slightly different language.

He found that his mother liked a steep angle of attack, and that she liked it when he shoved into her so hard that it made her breasts jiggle. He thought her nose had started running or something, based on the sniffs she suddenly developed, her head coming up off the bed and then bouncing back down. Then he realized she was having an orgasm, but was trying hard to have it quietly, breathing through her nose and keeping her lips tightly closed.

There was a distant wail, from the direction of the living room, where it was obvious that a teenage girl was also having an orgasm.

"Let it loose, Mom," he whispered, leaning down to lick a nipple.

Claire's eyes popped open and her mouth followed. The sound she made was reminiscent of a singer who is trying to hold a note as long as possible at the end of a song, though the pitch changed, starting low and building higher and higher until it was a high pitched whine of pleasure. Her pussy might have been playing that voice, based on the ripples that seemed to be like the fingers of a Flamenco guitarist on the smoking frets of a guitar.

As Bobby pounded her harder, that long whine changed to quick inhales, followed by explosive exhales that powered her vocal chords in ways that sounded vaguely alien. Her head flailed, her hair flying every which way. Her hands alternated between gripping the bedspread with white knuckles, to grasping his waist and pulling him harder into her.

Bobby, was used to a teenage girl who knew what an orgasm was, and enjoyed hers immensely, but had no frame of reference to enhance that orgasm emotionally. His mother, entering into this taboo relationship, brought all her passion to their mating and expended it like a machine gunner who knew he had endless ammo.

Bobby was shocked at the raw sexuality his mother displayed as she enjoyed his prick.

It was still too soon for him to cum again, and he was having a wonderful time poking and prodding his mother, so he just kept on.

====

Back in the living room, Chuck's kisses and groping had led to him lying Lori down on the couch, still dressed in her pants. He attacked her sensitive teenaged breasts, with their sensitive teenaged nipples, using experience that Bobby just hadn't had time to gain. Chuck knew just how hard to bite them, and just how hard to suck on them. He knew just how hard to squeeze them, and just how much he could pull them away from her chest, without making the pain she felt uncomfortable. And he knew how to rub her, even through her jeans, in ways that drove her crazy.

When she was writhing under his attention, arching her back and thrusting her hips, he stood up and, in seconds, made himself naked. His thick pole jutted at her, like the barrel of a shotgun.

"Is this what you want, little girl?" he asked menacingly. "You want me to stuff you like I stuff your mother?"

Lori was beside herself. She'd seen that penis at work in her mother, but she'd been six or seven feet away. Up close it looked like a baseball bat to her. So there was fear that he'd split her open. But, in another sense, she'd...seen that penis at work in her mother...who had been enjoying it to a HIGH degree. So there was eager anticipation to feel a strange prick in her pussy.

All that translated to, "Oh please...please...oh please."

Chuck leaned over and unsnapped her jeans, pulling them apart so forcefully that the zipper sang as it jerked apart. She barely had time to lift her hips before he was pulling them down, her panties with them. Unlike her mother, something in her wanted to display herself to this man and, as soon as she could, she flung one leg up on the back of the couch and put the other foot on the floor, spreading herself wide, opening her defenseless pussy to be plundered.

Chuck plundered it first with his tongue.

Lori wasn't prepared for that. She and Bobby had talked about having oral sex, but fear that it might not be all it was cracked up to be had kept them from trying something that might turn out to be something they wished they'd never done. So, while Lori had thought about what it might feel like, she had no frame of reference to deal with the feelings of having her pussy lips, along with her clit, sucked into his mouth and...chewed on...for lack of a better description.

Her hips jerked convulsively and she whined in almost-fright just as he burrowed between her pussy lips to find her clit and sucked just that in. He knew exactly how hard to nip and suck at that, too, and Lori felt herself washed away by a tidal wave of feeling as she had an "emergency orgasm." She bucked and grunted and thrust to the point that it was obvious she was in the throes of passion.

Which is when Chuck decided that might be the time to stretch her pussy a little. Like a snake he struck while she was still on cloud nine. He fisted his cock and nosed it between her sloppy pussy lips and, with tightly controlled pressure, began to shove it into her buttery depths.

Lori's orgasm turned into something that was half pain from being stretched almost cruelly, and half electrical shock from having the penis stretching her scrape along her clitty like it was trying to rub it off her body. She might have screamed, partly from the pain and partly just to release tension, except that she had no air to scream with. And, by the time she could get some air into her young lungs, Chuck had pulled his sword of love out of her and begun to run her through again. And, by the time she decided what kinds of noises to make with that air she now had in her lungs, he had already set up a rhythm and was fucking her with strokes that pulled out slowly and then slammed into her forcefully enough that her firm teen breasts jumped down and then up once.

The sound her mind had planned to make suddenly changed to, "Ohhhh fuck," as it gushed out between her suddenly dry lips.

"Is this what you wanted?" he whispered in her ear, his body hovering over her so that the only contact they had was his prick in her pussy.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh fuck," was all she could reply.

Suddenly Chuck poked in and held it, rotating his hips in small circles like he was trying to squeeze her clit flat, or maybe unscrew it from her body or something.

"Cum for me, Lori," he grunted. "Make my prick all wet."

Lori had lost her breath again at the savage clitoral stimulation, so when she did cum for him, and around him, she couldn't tell him she was doing it. That didn't matter, because her pussy told him for her as it flexed, loosened and then tightened down to grip him like a Rottweiler grips an intruder.

"Yeaaahhhhh, that's it baby," he cooed. "Cum all over my cock. You want a little present from my cock, Lori? You want to feel me squirting in there?"

Lori nodded frantically and finally got a breath. She used that one in a voiceless wail that was heard upstairs by her mother and brother and her hips finally woke up enough to begin thrusting up at the man. Her efforts almost dislodged him and he expertly dropped his weight on her, pinning her to the couch with his cock, his chest pressing her breasts almost flat. Then he gave jackrabbit thrusts that brought him over the edge and delivered his sperm into her pussy in staccato jets that made her cervical lips a spunky mess as they dipped and opened with her orgasm, sucking his offering into her young womb. His cum rushed through them and into her center where, if she'd been on her new birth control pill prescription long enough, there would be no egg waiting.

=====

Up in the bedroom Claire had just finished her fourth orgasm since spreading her legs for her son. He was still happily lunging into her, a smile on his face, his young arms still strong enough to hold him up so his mother could get the air in her lungs to stay conscious for another orgasm.

Finally she pushed at his chest.

"Can you cum again, baby?" she asked breathlessly.

"I don't think so," he replied calmly. "It feels really good, but I don't have that...feeling."

"Then you'd better stop or I'm not going to be able to get out of bed," she said somewhat sadly.

He started to pull out and her hands slapped on his ass, stopping him.

"I loved this, sweetheart, but you know we can't do this a lot...don't you?"

He eased back in and kissed her chin. "I know," he said. "I feel lucky for just this one time."

"It's not that I don't love this," she said, squeezing his cock with her pussy muscles once more. "I'm not on any birth control and I think Chuck and I are going to try to get me pregnant right away when we get married. So we don't want YOU making a little brother or sister in me...right?"

Bobby's eyes went unfocused and he thrust into his mother again.

"I came in you tonight," he said unnecessarily.

"I know, baby. I wanted you to. Just this once," she cooed back at him.

"You want to know something funny?" he asked, his thrusting getting harder.

"What darling?" asked his mother.

"I think I could cum again now." He looked down at her, his eyes bright.

"OK baby," she sighed, pulling him down for a kiss.

During that kiss he sent reinforcements to his first load of sperm troopers, who were actively seeking the egg they'd been sent to find and fertilize. If they had failed, his backup swimmers were determined not to.

===========================

Back in the living room Chuck had rolled off the couch, pulling Lori with him so that she was draped across him like a blanket of flesh, her arms and legs hanging limply, her ear turned to his chest. She could hear his heartbeat as it thundered under her ear.

"I'll never tease you again," she sighed. "I can't take it when I tease you."

"You did just fine, princess," said her soon-to-be stepfather. "But I don't think you should tease me either. It's not ladylike. And I think it bothers Bobby."

"I love Bobby," she said.

"I know you do. And loving him means disciplining yourself."

"He's upstairs fucking Mommy," she argued.

"And how do you feel about that?" he asked.

"His sperm is for me," she said firmly.

"There you go. I imagine the thought of my sperm soaking your sweet little pussy isn't too happy a thing for him to contemplate either."

"But I liked doing this with you," she whined.

"We can do it once in a while, when they're horny for each other, like tonight. But the rest of the time we should behave ourselves. Deal?"

"Deal," she sighed.

============================

Epilogue

Rod's secretary had already hired a realtor to assist Claire in house hunting, and a suitable house was found within three days. With the raise Chuck would be getting, and the substantial raise Claire already had, the new house, while much more upscale than what she was used to, was easily affordable. It had four bedrooms and three baths, with a formal dining room and huge kitchen.

Chuck, being much younger than the former coach, was able to relate with his new players on a level that perked them up. He let them learn from their mistakes and they soon found that his tactics led to scoring, which they liked a lot. He was tougher than the previous coach about accepting gifts, and made it almost impossible to slide through a class, but that only made the majority of players who never would have gotten gifts and who studied their asses off anyway because they knew there would be no NFL contract for them...happier. Now the playing field had been leveled. And, Coach Bondurant had this habit of putting second string players in unexpectedly, and running odd plays, which gave the opposing defense absolute fits. The word spread and people began to want to play for him.

The coach's new bride was already two months pregnant as she walked down the aisle to put her ring on his finger. He was as proud as he could be and she was smiling so widely that her face hurt. That baby, when he was born, looked suspiciously like her son's baby pictures. But then he looked an awful lot like Chuck's baby pictures, too.

Lori's new pills worked better than she deserved them to. She and Bobby set up housekeeping in one of the four bedrooms and she stayed on her pills long enough to get through her junior year in college. She stopped taking them as her graduation present to her brother.

When he found out, he was insatiable, so much so that, as he used his engineering degree to get a job with a defense contractor, Lori basically just stopped having periods for a few years. When both extra bedrooms were filled to capacity with babies, they finally started looking for their own place.

The same realtor found them a house only three doors down from Claire's.

Now there's a crowd of four, five and six year olds running between the houses, cousins who play with each other all the time. Uncle Chuck comes to visit Lori once in a while, and Uncle Bobby comes around every so often to fix something, usually in Claire's bedroom.

They're a happy family, all in all, the blues they once experienced are now far away in the past. That's a good place for the blues.

The End