Fantasy Lifestyles 2/Fantasy Lifestyles 2.iso/ast/barbara3.txt

Text File | 1995-12-18 | 19.1 KB | 340 lines

                 FREEWHEELING BARBARA TOYS WITH BOYS

                            Chapter Three

 "Jerry!" she gasped. "I thought you  were at school! How - what are
 you doing here?"

 "I got  all A's so I  didn't have to take  exams," Jerry explained.
 "Aren't you glad to see me, Mom?"

 "Of course  I am. I'm  just a little  surprised," Barbara answered.
 Surprise wasn't  the word for  it. What if  he'd come five  minutes
 sooner?  she thought  grimly, picturing  her son's  horror-stricken
 face. She trod  water, trying to compose her  mind, trying to still
 her pounding heart. Guilt flooded her. How could she have succumbed
 to her lust - right here in her own home, with her son only minutes
 away. She closed her eyes. She felt like she wa going to faint.

 "Are you okay, Mom?" Jerry asked worriedly, looking at his mother's
 flushed face. "You look kinda weird."

 "Oh, I'm fine. Just the heat. Thought I'd cool off in the pool ..."
 Barbara  became  aware  that  she  was  babbling and pulled herself
 together.  "Well, I  think it's  wonderful you're  home. Let's see,
 what time is  it? Maybe we could go out  for supper." She clambered
 out of the water and stood beside  her son. She glanced down at her
 body - all in order, no  telltale signs of passion. "Would you like
 that?"

 "Sure, Mom," Jerry answered. He looked  at her out of the corner of
 his eye.  It had been  some time  since  he'd seen his  mother in a
 bikini, and  he'd been too  young before to  appreciate her beauty.
 For the first time he looked at  her as a woman and not his mother.
 He was slightly  embarrassed at his feelings, and  he tore his eyes
 away from the tempting display of nearly nude flesh. He hadn't seen
 many girls in  brief bathing attire this close.  He and his buddies
 at school occasionally  sneaked up the hill and  spied on the local
 bathing beauties  at the beach ...  but that was at  a distance. He
 swallowed nervously,  fixing his eyes  on the ground.  Unbidden, he
 thought of  the pictures in  his suitcase. An  older boy had  given
 them to  him, and he  hadn't dared to  examine them closely  in the
 crowded dormitory. He  felt a sudden urge to run  get them and take
 them to  his bedroom to peruse  them in private. He  was aware of a
 breathlessness -  a tightening in  his groin that  occurred when he
 was stimulated.

 "Well, Jerry? That okay? I've got a date later on, but we can go to
 the  pizza place  or something  first." Barbara  looked at  her son
 anxiously. Now he  was looking odd. Maybe the  sun was getting him,
 too. All  the worried mother now,  all thoughts of her  former lust
 erased,  Barbara put  out one  hand and  stroked her  I GUESS son's
 forehead.

 Jerry jumped  as if he'd  been shot. "Yes,  that'll be great,  Mom.
 I'll - I'll just run my bags upstairs." He pulled away.

 "Why don't  you lie down  and rest for  a while? You  look a little
 pale. I know  that bus trip is murder!" Barbara  smiled at her son.
 "And I am  glad you're home early. You just  startled me earlier. I
 wasn't expecting anyone."

 "The door was open, so I just came on in," Jerry answered. "I think
 I will go lie  down ..." He looked at his  mother, trying to appear
 sick. If she'll leave me alone for an  hour or so, I can look at my
 pictures,  he  thought  feverishly.  The  desire  to  gaze  at  the
 forbidden pictures had now reached an obsession. He licked his lips
 slightly  and  glanced  at  his  mother  again,  wondering  if  she
 suspected  anything. No,  she wasn't  even looking  at him. She was
 staring at a  damp spot beside the pool, a  funny look on her face.
 He shrugged. "See ya in a while, Mom," he said, turning and running
 upstairs.

 Barbara  followed  him  more  slowly.  I  guess  he  didn't suspect
 anything, she mused. He did look a little strange for a minute - he
 was staring  at me ... but  it was probably the  heat. I think I'll
 take a  shower, too ... must  get on with things.  I have to forget
 that boy - that  must never happen again. I wonder how  old he is -
 nineteen? He looks  mature for his age. As  she remembered the most
 mature part  of his body, she  blushed vividly and thrust  down the
 thought. Never again. I'll have to  be sure to keep the door locked
 from  now on.  Anyhow, now  that Jerry's  home for  break, he won't
 bother me again. I'll keep so busy  with Jerry I won't have time to
 think about  horrible lewd things. Filled  with resolution, Barbara
 disappeared into her bedroom. God! My own sin will be eighteen next
 week! And here I was with a boy almost his own age!

 Jerry sprawled  on the bed. He  had closed his door  and felt quite
 safe. His  Mom never came  in when the  door was closed.  She was a
 great believer in  privacy. He spread the pictures  in front of him
 and began  to look at each  one carefully. He had  pulled his pants
 off in preparation for his jack-off  session. He figured that if he
 came really good,  it would wipe out the  thoughts he'd had looking
 at his  mother. Jerry knew how  awful it was to  have thoughts like
 that about  your mother -  it was  a  major sin. Not  only that, if
 anyone found  out they'd probably put  him in a home  or something.
 Someplace for perverted, evil boys.  He shivered and resolved never
 to look at his mother again. He concentrated on the pictures.

 There were seven of them. The first  was of a buxom blonde. She was
 naked  except for  a garter  belt  and  black nylons,  and she  was
 staring at the camera with a lascivious expression on her face, her
 tongue protruding from her full lips.

 Jerry drew a  deep breath, wondering how it would  feel to kiss her
 on those full wet lips. As his  eyes slowly took in the rest of the
 picture, his breathing quickened and his hand dropped to his penis,
 which was  hardening against his  leg. He grasped  it between thumb
 and  forefinger and  began slowly   stroking it.  He looked  at the
 woman's  pictured breasts  for a  long time,  his breath  coming in
 ragged puffs as  he ran his finger over  the picture, imagining how
 those big boobs would feel under his hand.

 "Oh,  baby,"  he  breathed.  "What  a  set!"  He  breathed  harder,
 picturing  his   lips  fastened  on   the  erect  nipples.   Almost
 unwillingly, he slid his eyes farther down.

 The woman's legs were widespread, and she was holding her cunt open
 with  one hand,  showing the  treasures inside.  A thick  growth of
 bushy curls  covered her twat,  curling along the  extended lips of
 her  open  cunt.   Jerry  could  just  make  out   the  ridges  and
 convolutions  of the  slit. He   peered closer.  It looked  wet. It
 almost glistened in  the picture, seeming to beckon  him nearer. He
 stroked it with a trembling finger, fantasizing that he was running
 his digit over a real, wet cunt. He had touched a cunt before - the
 gardener's daughter let  the boys at school feel  her for a dollar.
 But she didn't have one like this. Hers was sparsely furred and the
 slit was tiny, nothing like  this fleshy abundance. Jerry could see
 a tiny knob of flesh at the top of the opening. He wondered if that
 was the  thing the boy who  had given him the  picture had told him
 about. Supposedly you could just press on this nub of flesh and the
 girl  would let  you do   anything you  wanted. Jerry's  hand moved
 faster on  his pecker as he  imagined what he would  do. He put the
 picture aside and went on to the next.

 In this picture a young red-headed woman was sucking a guy off. The
 girl's body wasn't as full as  the other woman's - her breasts were
 small and tilted upwards. Jerry thought they looked like ripe fruit
 and wished he could bite into them. Her body was bent over, showing
 her luscious ass, and the contrast of her long red hair against the
 white ass made Jerry's heart stop.  But the interesting thing was -
 her  mouth was  completely full  - her  lips distended  around this
 enormous dick she was trying to  swallow whole. Jerry looked at the
 man's  genitals appreciatively  and wondered  if his  would ever be
 that size.

 The  man's root  was huge.  It sprang  from a  nest of  dense black
 curls, pointing straight up, obviously  fully aroused. The head and
 about half the  shaft were buried in the  red head's sucking mouth.
 Her cheeks puffed out and around it, trying to accommodate the rod.
 One of the  man's hands was caught in the  girl's hair, holding her
 head steady, the other was squeezing  one of her breasts. Her hands
 were  cupped under  his balls,  one of  them disappearing under his
 bottom. Jerry wondered what she was doing, then it came to him! She
 was feeling the guy's asshole!  He shivered, wondering how it would
 feel to have a lady sucking  on his dick and fingering his shithole
 at the same time. His hand stroked  up and down his pecker in short
 quick strokes, then slowed. He could  feel his cum building up, and
 he wanted  to look at the  rest of the pictures  before he came. He
 flipped to  the next one, his  hand keeping a steady  rhythm on his
 penis.

 "Hoo, boy!" he breathed. This was the best one yet. In this picture
 a busty  brunette  was  lying  spreadeagled  on  the bed, her heavy
 breasts  hanging  to  the  side,  her  widespread thighs facing the
 camera. Above  her, his dick  still spurting, a  man knelt. He  had
 apparently just  fucked her, for  gobs of semen  clung to her  open
 vagina and dripped from the head of his softening prick.

 The photographer had caught the  moment perfectly. The woman's face
 was glazed  with lust, her  nipples still turgid  with passion. Her
 open cunt seemed  to quiver with its load of  fresh sperm. Her twat
 hairs were coated  with the sticky stuff - it  was running down her
 legs and  over her stomach. "Wow  - he must've really  shot a wad,"
 Jerry breathed.

 He  wished it  were his  sperm that  was dripping  down the woman's
 outspread legs. He  wondered how it felt to spurt  into a cunt - to
 cover  a woman  with cum.  His hand  was moving  furiously now.  He
 wanted to  cum - to pretend  he was spurting all  over the woman in
 the picture. "God  ... fuck me, baby," he  said hoarsely, squeezing
 at his prick as he thought a  cunt would. "I'm gonna shoot all over
 your twat!" The  lewd words coming from his  mouth excited him even
 more and he hurriedly turned to the next picture.

 There were three  people in this one. A woman  knelt in the center,
 her full breasts  hanging down loosely. Behind her,  a dark man was
 plunging into her  ass, his dick cleaving her  buttocks neatly, his
 balls  smashed against  the full  roudness of  her buttocks. He was
 reaching under her with one hand, feeling her twat. In front of her
 another man was thrusting his turgid  prick into her open mouth. He
 was holding her by the hair  and pinching her breasts with his free
 hand. The  woman seemed in  an ecstatic trance,  her mouth wide  to
 receive the giant prick, her buttocks spread to accommodate the man
 behind her. Jerry couldn't decide which guy he'd rather be, the one
 with his prick buried in that hot asshole, or the one with his dick
 in the wet sucking mouth.

 "Wow ...  shake it, baby,"  he murmured to  the woman, feeling  his
 pecker  buried in  the convulsing   asshole. "Give  me a  ride!" He
 thrust wildly into his hand. He could feel his balls tightening and
 lifting,  and  knew  he  couldn't  hold  off  any longer. The other
 pictures  would have  to wait.  He jacked  off furiously,  his eyes
 glued to the lustful threesome, his mind whirling with the stimulus
 he had received.  "Oh, fuck, fuck me, I'm cumming  ... suck it baby
 ...  I'm  gonna  shoot!  I'm  cummingggg!!"  His  young penis began
 spurting wildly, gobs of thick creamy  cum jerking from the head in
 an  endless  stream,  gushing  through  his  hand,  landing  on the
 pictures, on his stomach, on the bedspread. Jerry couldn't remember
 ever cumming so much - it seemed like it would never end. Unbidden,
 a picture of his mother in her  bikini flashed into his mind and he
 convulsed  again, his  tortured balls  giving up  the last burst of
 sperm. "Oh, oh, good!" he mumbled, turning over, rolling toward the
 edge of the bed.

 And then he saw her. His  mother. Standing in the doorway, her eyes
 fixed on his dangling penis, a strange expression on her face.

 "Mom!" he gasped  in horror. Of all the things  he had imagined, he
 had  never thought  of his  mom catching  him jacking  off. "Oh no,
 Mom!" He stared at her in  abject amazement. He couldn't think what
 to do next. It was perfectly obvious what he had been doing - there
 was no way to hide his cum-smeared young hard-on and the assortment
 of pictures. Jerry  wondered how long she had  been standing there.
 Had she actually  seen him cum? Through the  embarrassment and fear
 that filled him, he was aware of a twinge of lust at the thought of
 his lovely mother watching him jack off.

 "It's okay, dear ... nothing to  be ashamed of," Barbara said. "I'm
 sorry - I  knocked, but I thought you said  come in. It's perfectly
 normal.  I didn't  realize you  were growing  up so  fast." Barbara
 smiled at her  son, hoping her emotions were  well hidden. For what
 she felt  was not motherly  at all -  she was suffused  with sudden
 lust! She had knocked  at the boy's door - that was  true - but she
 had heard  his voice crying  out lewd words,  accompanied by grunts
 and moans. She hadn't been able to resist opening the door quietly,
 driven by curiosity  and something else she couldn't  name. And she
 had seen her son, his hand wrapped around his prick, jerking off as
 he writhed on the  bed, his eyes fixed on a picture  he held in his
 other hand.  She blushed, remembering  the picture -  a woman being
 screwed in the ass while she blew another guy. Part of her wondered
 how it  would feel to  take on two  men at once  - but she  quickly
 squelched that thought.

 Her eyes had been full of her son's jumping dick. She couldn't move
 - couldn't force  herself away. As  he neared completion,  her hand
 had  strayed  inside  her  robe  and  found  her cunt dripping with
 moisture. When  he came, she  had plunged her  finger into herself,
 frigging her clitoris desperately. She  hadn't had time to cum, and
 she was in a state of aroused passion, her body aching with lust as
 she tried to calmly reassure herself that masturbation was normal.

 Maybe that is, but what I'm feeling is perverted - wrong - immoral,
 she thought  to herself. Screwing  this afternoon was  bad enough -
 this - this,  this is a sin. No mother  should think this way about
 her son.  It's impossible ... I  must be insane! She  drew her robe
 closely around her, as if she could shut away her depraved desires.
 "Don't  worry about  it, dear.  I'll never  come in  your room  and
 disturb you again. And please,  don't worry. We'll forget about the
 whole  episode. I'm  going to   get dressed  for supper  now. Pizza
 okay?" She smiled  brightly at her son and backed  out of the room,
 closing the door gently behind her.

 Jerry still sat on the edge of the bed, his thoughts in turmoil. He
 hadn't believed it  when his mother had walked in  on him. He still
 didn't in  fact. But she  had been real  nice about it.  She hadn't
 seemed too shocked or anything.  Jerry blushed again. He didn't see
 how he could look her in the  face again after what she'd seen! And
 if  she knew  that he'd  been thinking  about her  when he came ...
 Jerry  winced.  Still,  she  hadn't  seemed  horrified. In fact her
 expression had reminded  him of someone. He thought  a minute, then
 his eyes lit on the first picture, the one with the big blonde, her
 face glazed  with lust. He stared  at the picture wondering  how it
 could remind him  of his mom as she had  stood in the doorway, then
 shrugged. He'd do what she had  suggested - forget the whole thing,
 pretend it had never happened. But  maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea
 to get one of his buddies to spend break with him. For some reason,
 Jerry didn't want to be in the  house alone with his mother. Not if
 she was going to keep running around in bikinis and bathrobes!

 Jerry clattered down  the stairs, dressed in jeans  and a T- shirt.
 "Okay, Mom, ready to go!" he sang out.

 Barbara got up slowly from the couch and smiled at her son. She was
 dressed in a green dress with a  low neckline, and as Jerry saw the
 twin swell of  her breasts, his resolve hardened.  He just couldn't
 stay alone with her, not thinking  the thoughts he did! If Steve of
 Richard was here he could control himself better, could go off with
 them and  try to ignore this  sexy creature who happened  to be his
 mother.

 "Hey, Mom, would it be all right if I called up Steve and asked him
 to spend break  with me? He didn't have anywhere  to go. He's still
 at school. I told him I'd ask you  and he could come up later if it
 was okay with you. He'll be finished with exams by tomorrow."

 "Sure, hon," Barbara answered, aware of a pang of disappointment at
 not having  her son to herself.  "Call him right away  ... tell him
 I'd be  glad to have  him visit. I  know you boys  don't want to be
 around  us old  folks all  the time!"  She smiled  at him lovingly,
 wishing  she could  see him  without visualizing  his young  pecker
 spurting his hot, tasty-looking cream.

 "Oh, it's  not that, Mom!  You're sure not  old. I mean,  it's just
 that I promised Steve ... that is, he's all alone at school." Jerry
 floundered  in explanation,  hoping he  hadn't hurt  his mother  by
 intimating that he didn't want to be around her.

 "I understand, Jerry. Why don't you call him now, and then we'll go
 out for supper.  I have a date with Mr.  Greenway tonight. Will you
 be all  right by yourself? I  didn't know you were  coming home, or
 I'd  surely stay.  I can  break the  date if  you'd rather  have me
 stay."

 "Oh no. I mean ... I'll be  fine. Got some reading to do - wouldn't
 be good  company anyhow," Jerry  stuttered, completely unnerved  by
 the prospect of his mother remaining home.

 "I guess  so. You're a big  boy now, after all,"  Barbara looked at
 her son, and  they both flushed and looked  away as they remembered
 what a big boy he was.

 No, not a boy. He was almost  a man now. Why did this thought hurt?
 Her own age? Life slipping away  from her. Was this why she peddled
 that damned bicycle mile after tortuous mile? To somehow, some way,
 hold on to her youth?

 She  looked  at  her  legs.  They  were  tanned and muscular. "Bike
 freak," she said  to herself, using the same  intonation that young
 Jim had  that day at the  motel. But what could  the damned bike do
 when  her chin  began to  sag, or  the crow's  feet began to spider
 around her  eyes? When would that  be, five years, six  years? What
 would she end up, a little  old grey-haired lady with a trim, tight
 body that didn't match her false teeth?

 She  had  read  an  advertisement  in  today's newspaper. A plastic
 surgeon  saying he  understood, the  dilemma of  the "aging woman."
 Eyelid-lifts, chin  lifts, brow-creases eliminated.  No. She wasn't
 to that yet. But how long  would a lousy two-hundred dollar bicycle
 keep her young? Not long. Not long ...