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“Honey, would you like some more bacon?”
I was sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast, and Mom bent over as she placed the remaining strips of bacon on my plate. Having a cooked breakfast was a fairly rare treat in our house; usually, everyone grabbed a bowl of cereal as they hurried about getting ready to leave in the morning. This morning, however, since the previous day my older sister Jan and I had just gotten home for the summer from college, Mom had outdone herself and cooked eggs and bacon. Yum.
“What about Jan?,” I asked, as Mom stood there bent over, placing the bacon strips ever so exactly on my plate.
“You snooze, you lose, around this house. You know that.”
“Ummm,” I replied, as I tried to remove my eyes from Mom’s cleavage. “I guess so.” I was not thinking about bacon, though, I can assure you. Mom had on her robe, loosely tied, and I don’t know what was under it. I do know that I could see the deliciously freckled tops of her breasts.
“Delicious,” I murmured. I did not mean the breakfast.
“Oh, I hope so,” Mom said. “It’s not often I make you breakfast anymore.”
Mom’s breasts were not large. She was a trim woman who had managed to keep her figure into her 50s. Her breasts may not have been large, but they were the apple of my eye, if you’ll allow me that turn of double meaning. I had lusted after Mom since my teenaged years. If you’re supposed to grow out of it, then call me a case of arrested development. As a teenager, I was a walking container of raging hormones. Mom was, I thought, absolutely beautiful, and then there was Jan. Jan must have gotten her tits from Dad’s Mother, because they were, well, hooters. So, as I say, if there was ever a time around the house when my dick was not hard for one or the other, or both, I don’t remember it. But I was a good boy, which means I was a mess of repressed desire. Aside from occasionally brushing against Mom’s butt or looking pointedly at Jan’s tits, I never did anything. I just wanted.
Mom straightened up and noticed my thousand yard stare. “Penny for your thoughts.”
“Oh, they’re worth a lot more than a penny,” I replied. “With inflation, I’ll bet my thoughts are worth at least a buck.”
“Well, you’re the economist,” Mom said. “But I’m afraid I don’t have any money on me, as you can see.” With that, she held her arms up and twirled around. When she did, her robe opened up a little more, and I was treated to more of her breasts. She, of course, had no idea.
“Okay, I’ll just settle for a kiss,” I said when she faced me again. “But you have to come down here to give it to me. I’m busy with my bacon.”
“Scamp,” she laughed, and bent down to kiss me on the cheek. I have to admit, when she did that, I got a good look right down her robe. She kissed me on the cheek and when she noticed where I was looking, pulled her robe together with her hand. “I’m not sure that was worth a dollar, but there you go.”
“Oh, it was worth a lot more than a dollar to me. You have no idea what I’d pay for that.”
She laughed, and I don’t know if she knew what I was referring to, but given her fierce blush, I think she might have.
“What are you up to today?” she asked as she turned back to the stove.
“I dunno. Jan wanted to go to the mall, but I don’t know if she’ll ever get up. You wanna go with us?”
That was quite a change, I admit. When Jan and I were teenagers, the last thing we wanted was for the old fuddy-duddy parents to be around. Given that I had just gotten a peek at Mom’s breasts, though, I wanted nothing more than for her to be around.
“Yeah, I just might,” she said. “I get a little bored just sitting around the house for the summer.”
Mom was a high school biology teacher, and a good one. Jan and I even had her as our teacher in our junior years, and loved it. She never treated us any differently than the rest of the students. She just had a way in class of presenting things in a lively way that kept everyone’s attention, even though she must have given the same classes every year for the last 20 years. And, being realistic, I’ll bet I wasn’t the only guy in class who sat there with a boner, watching her as she moved around the classroom. I know that our house was always a favorite gathering spot for my old gang, and it was not always about catching a glimpse of my big sister. More than once I saw my friends watching Mom. I never mentioned it. I didn’t blame them.
“Go wake her up and we’ll leave in about an hour,” Mom said, so I went upstairs to Jan’s room and knocked on the door. No answer. I knocked again, and said, “Janny,” in a singsong voice, “time to get uppy.”
I opened the door and went in, to see Jan all cuddled up in her covers. I went to the bed and did a belly flop right on her.
“Dammit, Kevin,” she shouted. “You big oaf. Get off me.” I rubbed around on her, just to get her even madder, and then got up.
“Mom says she wants to go to the mall with us, and we’ll leave in about an hour. She’s grup sex cooking more bacon, and if you’re not down there in ten minutes, it’s mine, all mine.”
She sat up in bed and shook her fist at me. “You’d better not eat my bacon, buddy boy, or it’s curtains for you,” she said, using a Hollywood villain voice. “Curtains, I say.”
I just stood there with my mouth hanging open. Good God. Double score, in the same morning. Jan was wearing a light tank top to sleep in and those tits were standing gloriously, with her nipples standing out a foot, it seemed.
She crossed her arms over them and shouted. “Get out, you perv, and don’t eat my bacon!”
I walked out, closed the door, and just stood there a minute. Lordy, Lordy. It was just like I was a teenager again. Surrounded by pussy, and couldn’t get a bit. What was it Coleridge said? “Water, water, everywhere, and not a drop to drink”? That was me. Pussy, pussy, everywhere, and not a drop to drink.
“Get a grip,” I whispered to myself. I was 21, entering my junior year at college, and Jan was 22, entering her senior year. We both went to the university a couple of hours from home, kind of a family tradition now since that is where Mom and Dad met. Jan and I didn’t see a lot of each other on campus. We would try to sit together sometimes in the student section of the stadium on football weekends, but that was about it. Jan had her friends, and I had mine. Jan’s friends were hot. My friends were nerds.
I sat at the table drinking coffee with Jan and Mom as Jan ate her breakfast. Mom got up to take a plate to the sink and I watched her lovely butt, accentuated by her thin robe, as she walked away. I guess I might have been a little obvious, because Jan kicked me under the table. I jerked to look at her, and she gave me that patented Jan eyebrows raised look. “Perv,” she mouthed at me.
This time it was my turn to blush. “Shut up,” I mouthed back, and she laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Mom asked as she sat back down.
“Your son,” Jan answered. “I don’t think he’ll ever change.”
“Well, I hope not,” Mom said. “I love him just as he is.”
That provoked Jan and I both to laugh, with Jan spitting eggs out of her mouth, and we looked at each other and laughed again.
“I don’t know what’s so funny with you two,” Mom said, “but I’m happy to have my babies home with me. Hurry and get ready, and we’ll go.”
We had a good time at the mall. We walked around, going from shop to shop, with no real plan. Mom and Jan tried on a few outfits, and I gave my considered fashion judge opinion of each. I made them pose in front of me while I studied them up and down, and then they’d have to twirl in front of me so I could see the back. I loved it. Getting into the role, I would let my eyes linger on their breasts, legs, and butt, and then I would make comments.
“I like this one. It shows off your assets.” “No, not this one. Too matronly. Your body deserves better than that.” “Oh, yeah. Man, you look hot in that.”
They were getting into it, too, striking exaggerated fashion model poses. Mom turned around to look at me once after I had made her turn, and caught me staring at her butt. “There’s more to the outfit than just that, Buster,” she said with a laugh.
“See what I’m talking about, Mom? He’ll never change.” Mom and Jan both laughed at that, while I blushed and studied my shoes.
“Busted,” I said, and stood up from the chair.
“Yeah, you’re busted alright,” Jan said. “You’ve always been busted.” We all laughed, then, and walked toward the front of the store with Mom and Jan on either side of me and our arms interlocked. I had Jan’s big tits pushing into my arm on the left, and Mom’s sweet little tits pushing into my arm on the right. If life could get any better than that moment, I didn’t know how. I looked behind us as we approached the entry, noting that no one was there.
“I feel just like Chapo,” I said to them, “A rich drug lord out with his ladies.” As I said that, I slid my arms down and cupped each of their butts with my hands – the left on Jan’s butt, tight and muscular, and the right on Mom’s, softer and more rounded.
They both laughed, and both of them took their arms from mine and punched me playfully.
“So much for innocent fun,” Mom said, laughing. “Now I find out my son is a Mexican drug lord, with a bevy of ladies.”
“Nope, not a bevy,” I said. “Just the two prettiest ones.”
“You’d better say that,” Jan said. “I know where you sleep.”
We were walking aimlessly, talking and laughing like that, and passed the billboards for the theater. “Ooh,” Mom said, looking at one of them. “Let’s go see that. I’ve been wanting to see it and your father won’t go out at night. There’s a one o’clock, and we can still be home in time to fix dinner.”
“But that wasn’t the plan,” I said. “We were just going to walk around.”
Mom looked at me. “Sometimes the best plan is no plan at all. Just go with it. Be natural. latina fuck tour porno And what feels natural to me right now is a movie.”
So, we did. We bought our tickets, got a huge tub of popcorn and water at exorbitant prices, and found seats in the middle of the small theater. There was no one in the theater but us.
“You can really pick ’em, Mom,” Jan said in a loud whisper which made us all laugh because, after all, there was no one else to hear. “This must be a blockbuster.”
“Oh, hush,” Mom said. “It’s been out awhile. It’s very good, I hear.”
With that, the lights dimmed and the previews started playing. I was sitting in the middle, holding the tub of popcorn so that all of us could share. “Why do I have to be the popcorn man? You should have been in the middle, Mom. You’re both going to drip butter all over my legs.”
“Better the popcorn man than the candy man,” Jan said in her singsong voice, and we laughed again.
“Shush, you two. The movie’s beginning,” Mom said, and we laughed again because she had whispered in the empty theater.
I was much more conscious of the two women on either side of me than of the movie, although it turned out to be a pretty good flick. We all had shorts on, and when either Jan or Mom would reach over to get a handful of popcorn, their legs would touch mine. Especially when Jan would reach over, her breasts would rub against my arm. Okay. I admit it. I had my legs spread and my arms to my side, just for that purpose, but still.
At one suspenseful moment in the movie Mom gave a start and gasped, clinging to my arm. The effect was that her breasts pushed into my arm and I swear I could feel a tight little nipple drilling into my tricep. She was on my left and I was cradling the popcorn bucket with my right hand. In the moment, I reached my left hand down and patted her thigh. “There, there, little Laura,” I whispered, “don’t be afraid.”
She laughed, but I kept my hand on her leg and she didn’t say anything – she just covered my hand with her own, holding it. Now I was in heaven. I had my hand on Mom’s leg. My entire being was focused on that hand. I was afraid to move it, for fear of her noticing her son had his hand on her thigh, but after awhile I got a little braver and started moving my fingers slightly against her skin. It was so soft. I don’t know what she thought was going on, but to me it was one of the more sensual moments I could remember.
Getting ever more daring, I slowly started sliding my hand up Mom’s leg. She tightened her grip on my hand, and kept me from advancing where I so desperately wanted to advance, but she didn’t make me take my hand away. I was really getting into it, making my gentle kneading motions more overt, when she jumped up.
“Dammit.” My heart sank. “Dammit. I have to use the bathroom. Don’t let anything exciting happen until I get back,” and then she was gone.
I sat there, dumbstruck and relieved. I thought she jumped up because of my hand. Maybe she did. Who could know?
Jan leaned over to me. “I know what you’re doing, little brother,” she said.
“What?” I was good at playing dumb with her.
“You’re feeling up Mom’s leg. What do you think? I’m blind? You’re all over her. You two should get a room. You perv.”
“I am not.”
“Oh, yes, you are. You’ve been on her all day. I’m starting to feel ignored.” With that, she put her hand on my right thigh and just when I thought I was really getting lucky, she pinched my thigh. And hard. I yelped.
“Dammit, Jan, that hurt,” I said, and she laughed and then we both laughed together.
“So, anyway, Kevin. I know what you’re doing.”
“What am I doing, then, Miss Know-Everything?”
She paused for dramatic effect and then whispered, “You’re trying to fuck your own Mother, that’s what you’re doing. Don’t feel so special about it. I’d fuck her, too, if I thought I could get her to let her hair down.”
I gasped. What? What did Jan just say?”
“Jan,” I whispered with my voice full of emotion. “Are you a …?”
She interrupted me. “Don’t label, little brother. I’m not anything. I love beautiful men and I love beautiful women. Let your mind expand, college boy.”
I just looked at her, dumbstruck. Good God. The image of my sister’s beautiful face eating pussy filled my vision and I could hardly breathe. If my dick was hard before while I had my hand on Mom’s leg, it was a damned diamond cutter now.
I was just getting ready to say something…I don’t know what…when we heard Mom coming back in.
“We’ll talk later,” Jan said softly, and Mom settled back into her seat.
“Anything exciting happen?,” Mom asked as we all looked at the screen.
“Just the most exciting part of the whole damned movie,” I said, and Jan punched my arm.
“Really? Oh, dammit,” Mom said, but Jan and I assured her she had missed nothing.
I just sat there for a bit, totally flummoxed. I replayed exactly what Jan had lezbiyen porno said, every word, and my dick throbbed. “Holy shit,” I thought to myself. “Holy shit.” No wonder Jan didn’t like me hanging around with her at school. I knew Jan had fucked around a little. She was very selective in high school, but I knew when she had lost her cherry in her junior year. She never told me, but I could tell. She had been dating this Ken Doll-looking guy and after one date when she got home late, it just seemed like she changed a little. Became a woman in front of my eyes. I don’t know if Mom or Dad could tell, but I could. She had been selective, but after that I could always tell if she had been fucked on a date. But now to learn she liked it both ways? As I say, “Holy shit.”
On my left side, Mom hooked her arm under mine and hugged it, dragging me from my revery. Back in reality, I gently placed my hand back on Mom’s leg. This time, she put her hand on it and pulled it off her, placing it on the arm of my seat. “Damn,” I thought.
She whispered in my ear. “Wipe your hand off. I had butter and salt all over my leg when I went to the bathroom.”
I made a show of wiping my hand on a napkin, and put it back on her leg. She again placed her hand over mine, and seemed to give me a little nudge to move my hand higher on her leg. I did. Oh, brother, I did. I slid my hand from the top of her leg to the inside of her thigh, and tickled her with my little finger. I could feel the top of her shorts with my fingers, so I was pretty high up her leg, and I wanted to be higher. I slid my little finger under her shorts and started moving up. She squeezed my hand.
“No, no, Buster,” she whispered lightly in my ear. “Not too much.”
That was good enough for me. She knew exactly what I was doing, and what I wanted. Not to put too fine a point on it, but dammit, she knew I wanted to touch her pussy. She had to know. My virginal Mother, and she was sitting there with her son feeling her up. Wow. Jan and I had laughed about it it when we were living at home, with both of us convinced that Mom and Dad had only had sex twice, once for each of us. Clearly, there was a side of Mom I had never known.
After the movie we walked out to the car, again with all three of us arm in arm. If Mom was upset that I had my hand on her leg, she didn’t show it. She was happy. Jan was just as happy, it seemed to me, and we all teased and laughed with each other. On the drive home, Jan sat in front and I sat in the back seat, lost in my thoughts. What a day. I found out my sister ate pussy, or at least I assumed that from what she had said, and I had my hand on Mom’s leg.
Jan turned around to look at me. “Are you lost in space, Idiot?,” she asked. “Are you listening to a thing we’ve said?”
I was ready with a quick, witty response. “Huh?”
“I said, what was your favorite part of the movie?”
“Oh. Oh, yeah. Well, I don’t know. I liked it all.”
Still looking back at me, Jan arched her eyebrow and then turned her head to look at Mom. “Yeah. I know what part you liked best.”
I looked at her with shock. Was she going to bust me in front of Mom? Was she going to say, “You liked feeling Mom up, didn’t you?”
But she didn’t. “You liked the action scenes, didn’t you, you shallow college boy.”
I snickered, both in mirth and relief. “Yeah. Of course.”
Mom laughed, too. “I liked the action, too, Kevin. It was a very action-packed movie, wasn’t it?” She looked at me in the rear view mirror and our eyes met. She kept the eye contact until she had to return her eyes to the road, but I knew the message she had sent. At least, I hoped I knew the message she had sent. She had liked the action – my action – as much as I had liked it.
Mom was practically bubbly at dinner, and that put everyone in a good mood. We talked and laughed and, halfway through the meal, Dad got a bottle of good white wine for us to share. “I don’t know what we’re celebrating,” he said, “but let’s just celebrate our family.” We toasted to that and, after dinner and loading the dishwasher – a job Jan and I shared – we retired to the family room to watch one of the British mystery shows Mom and Dad liked. Dad was in his easy chair and Mom, Jan, and I shared the couch.
Dad had the air conditioner cranked, as he liked it. Mom said she felt cold and got up to get a throw to put over our laps. What do you think I did? Of course. I slipped my hand to Mom’s leg and squeezed lightly. Again, she put her hand over mine, and squeezed back, then she put her hand on my thigh. I rubbed her leg lightly, running my fingers up and down her thigh. Mom didn’t do the same, but kept her hand in one place and lightly scratched with her fingers. I didn’t try and go for her pussy. I had enough experience by this time to know not to rush things. My philosophy with women had matured to the point that I didn’t believe in seduction, if the word meant getting someone to do something she didn’t want to do. No, my philosophy was to let it be known what I wanted, and then let her move things along at her own speed. That’s what I would do with Mom. If she wanted what I wanted, we’d get there. If she didn’t want it, then we wouldn’t. No plan. Either way, I was a winner. If I never got any farther than rubbing her leg, I was a winner.
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