The family Fun continues (4)

It was close to midnight by the time that last round finished and everyone was ready to call it a night. I’d assumed I'd be going home. I hadn’t drunk much, so driving back wasn’t a problem. However, I was dissuaded by a very persuasive hostess.

“Oh, no Witch. You’re staying here tonight. I don’t think we’ve finished yet.” I raised my eyebrows. “As you wish, mistress. On the sofa?”

As far as I was aware, they only had two functioning bedrooms and whilst normally I wouldn’t have minded sleeping on the sofa it was rather damp from all our fun.

“Don't be so obtuse. You think we’re going to traipse downstairs one at a time to fuck you?”

Lizzie has this way of speaking. It’s quite deliberate and it’s impossible to tell if she is being serious or not. It’s most endearing but highly annoying! I tried to pay her back. “So instead I’ll be bed-hopping?” I said it as a joke but her reply — “That’s what I had in mind,” — indicated otherwise! Hardly an issue though. “So where shall I start mistress?” I asked, almost like a chambermaid asking which room to clean first.

“Best come to ours. I think John needs a bit of recovery time don’t you son?”

“Spose.” came back the reply. Still some teenager left, but after that night I suspected it was fast disappearing.

We went up to bed. John said good night and went to his room. I followed Chris and Lizzie to theirs. I could have done with a shower given the amount of dried juice and cum I had on my skin but it seemed pointless if I had more sex on the way.

I sat on the edge of the bed to remove my stockings, the last vestige of clothing still on, but was stopped. “Let me,” came a voice and Chris was beside me on his knees. I stood and faced him. My private area (Ha! Private! Yeah. Right.) level with his face. He took in the view kissed my pussy lips and turned his attention to undoing my suspenders.

I couldn’t recall a man ever doing that before, but I found it erotic in the extreme. He kissed each clasp before undoing it. Undid both on one leg and gently started pushing my stocking down, trailing behind it with his tongue running down my leg. It gave me goosebumps. Lizzie was calmly sitting on the bed watching. “He loves doing that. Look what it does to his cock.” Sure enough, he was erect again. Once both stockings were off he reached around me to undo my belt. This meant him leaning in against me. No objection from me! His lips found mine again. This was so erotic I had plenty for him to drink and he did. He seemed determined to keep supping as long as I kept producing. We would have been there a long time if Lizzie hadn’t intervened. “Oh come on, fuck her,” she playfully growled and pulled me back onto the bed. I doubt Chris had been awaiting the instruction, but (I can’t say this any other way) I was gagging for him to fill me.

It was a rough and tumble fuck. The depravity of the earlier evening hadn’t sated anyone's appetite and we were soon in a threesome.

I was on my back. Legs wide apart hanging over the edge of the bed. Chris's cock made an abrupt entry. Easily. Lubrication wasn’t an issue. Lizzie deftly swung a leg over me presenting her cunt to my face. She gave me a few seconds to taste her wetness, then sank down on my face. Blocking my ability to breathe. God, it’s true what they say. Shortage of air did dial up the sexual pleasure. God knows how. I thought I already had my meter pushing past the red zone.

She raised herself off my face. Having failed to asphyxiate me she tried drowning me. If I couldn’t taste the difference I’d have said she was peeing on me but that was definitely honey juice. Chris’s fucking was almost secondary. No, that’s not right. It was sending me into orbit, but the physical side, the feeling inside my cunt, somehow seemed vague. A dream. All my senses were occupied. Like being attacked on all sides and every defensive position dealing with its own emergency and central command, my brain, not knowing what to concentrate on.

Soon, all too soon, I didn’t need to. I felt Chris tense. One last deep thrust into me up to his balls and he let fly. His cock spasmed in me. That I did feel. Even through the orgasm it had produced. Lizzie’s fountain reacted too. My tongue brought her off. The three of us climaxing together. Proper porn movie stuff!

In more ways than one. We had an audience! We’d all been too consumed in the action but standing in the doorway was John. Naked. A flag pole at attention pointing our way.

No idea how long he’d been there but it hardly mattered.

I won’t say I didn’t want to fuck him, that I was too tired for another session but it was close. I made to get up as I said, “Okay John I’m on my way.” but Lizzie interjected. “No stay. More fun here.”

Seriously? The bed was full with the three of us adding John would make it ultra cosy. Not that that in itself was a problem but I couldn’t see how he and I were going to fuck without his mother getting involved. And that was clearly her idea. One look in her eyes confirmed it. If we’d been drinking heavily I’d have perhaps said something. Stop her making a mistake she’d regret in the morning. But we hadn’t been drinking. If she was drunk it was on sex. I assumed she was capable of making a rational decision. Besides, Chris seemed laid back about it and I have to admit the thought gave me an extra frisson of excitement. Nothing untoward might happen of course. Yeah. Right.

John wasn’t fazed. He strode over and climbed on the bed. It reminded me of an old wartime black and white movie I’d seen of men adrift in a dingy. Too many making it sink. Some brave stiff upper lip officer, gallantly letting go so the others can survive. Sorry, I’m wittering. Anyway, we didn’t have anyone with a stiff upper lip. Plenty of other parts stiff though, Cocks through to nipples.

Suffice to say it was cosy. I decided the best way he could do me was doggy style. On hands and knees and with him on top, we occupied less space.

Unaccountably I’d dried up. Run out of raw juice-making material? Edgy due to what we were about to do? More than likely. My dry state didn’t last long. John’s tongue technique was now first class. Once the tap was open again he wasted no time in entering me. Earlier I said I thought I was too tired for another fuck. I wasn’t. Going in doggy fashion increased the feel. Increased sexual sensation. Increased my willingness to go along with what happened next.

Lizzie was on her back pushing herself under my body positioning her head under my pussy bringing it close to John's cock. A ringside seat watching her son's cock entering and leaving my body. She didn’t do anything. Simple stayed there. watching. She was being stimulated though. Chris had his head sucking hard between her legs and I found by accident or design his rather solid cock twitching next to my arm. Too good to miss. I lowered my head to the bed and took his cock in my mouth. John's rhythmic pounding had changed my dry river bed into a raging torrent and Lizzie was showering in it although she wasn’t drinking. Her attention was fully on her son’s cock.

He came. He seemed able to produce semen as easily as I did juice. I thought that was what Lizzie was waiting for. Like a cat standing by the fridge door. Waiting for it to open. John to pull out. His cum to dribble out into her mouth. I was wrong. As he pulled out Lizzie got a hand to it and pulled it down. Towards her mouth. No, no, no! Was I really witnessing this?

I rolled to the side of Lizzie to watch. Pervert, my mind screamed. I’m not sure if I was calling myself that for watching or Lizzie for doing. No matter. The description fitted us both. And I didn’t care. Nor did anyone else in the room.

John's cock had deflated from its rock-like status but his mother was now holding it and that halted its decline.

The atmosphere had changed. From sexy to obscene. But it wasn’t that. There was a stillness. Three of us frozen. I’m not sure any of us were breathing even. Lizzie was the only exception. She was clearly breathing. Just holding her son's cock was making her whole body react as if she were orgasming. Her breathing, heavy. Her eyes fixed on the penis inches — no, an inch — from her mouth. Like a snake her tongue shot out. Touched the helmet and shot back in. A lightning raid. Afraid? Ashamed? Someone might see! Discovering her god hadn’t sent a thunderbolt down from heaven to incinerate her. Her tongue making another raid. This time staying. Not just touching. Licking. No thunderbolt still. Her head moved imperceptibly closer. Her mouth widened. Devoured its prey.

I discovered I could move. My hand found its way to my cunt. A finger helping with the ache I felt, but not wanting to crack the tableau, I controlled myself.

Chris also was simply watching. The only movement, from his erect twitching cock. Elizabeth, Elizabeth. Her head now bobbing. Her son his eyes closed his head back was moaning.

Time had stood still. This scene felt as though it had existed forever. In truth perhaps a minute. A minute since John had shot his load into me. A minute since the world order had changed.

In that short time, even John would have trouble getting another full erection. Let alone coming with a load of semen. And so it proved. An anticlimax? Hardly. Lying there gently fingering myself watching Lizzie mumbling on John’s flaccid cock, her husband idly wanking his, we didn’t speak. God knows what the others were thinking. My thoughts were pornographic. And I suppose the picture they conjured, illegal, but I’d have so loved to have seen John take his mother properly.

Both my closest friends, Mary and Lizzie had now experienced what I had. Sex with their offspring.

Lizzies, though, was on a different level.