@2

"Where's that lube, sweetheart," Rick said, his eyes showing a new intensity. "We don't want to make you bleed."

"Pass the pipe around," Sabella said. "Let's get shit-faced and fuck real dirty."

She got up and walked to her purse, with all eyes on her naked body. She tossed the lube on the bed, went to Noah's side, took the pipe from him and took two solid hits. Her arm was around his waist, and both she and he could feel the heat of the other; fleshy heat that was soft and familiar. The pipe and the bottle made the rounds, and the excellent weed Noah was so fond of took them all high again, with a breathtaking rush that thrilled Sabella.

"Geez Louise!" she said, staggered to the point of swaying.

"Shit-faced and fuck dirty, baby," Rick said, himself red-eyed and swaying. "You asked for it, you got it."

"Forget the camera," she said. "I don't want any masks, I wanna see all of your faces. Noah, baby, throw me on that bed and put your big cock in my ass."

Noah was stoned to the heavens again, back in that mental place where his mother's wishes and his desires converged and nothing else seemed to matter. It was a blissful place, one where her naked body felt feather-light in his arms, and one where she magically ended up on hands and knees when he tossed her that way, with her ass facing him, spread wide, her little asshole winking, as if to say yes, those pussy exercises work on assholes, too. Just wait'll you feel what I can do to you.

He thought of doing a quick schmeer of lube and ramming his cock in, but first...

"Ohhh, my good Lord!" Sabella exclaimed, when Noah's face went between her ass cheeks, his hungry mouth claiming the entirety of her wet pussy. "Ohh yes!" she said. "Fuck...yyeesss!

Her sky-high bliss was so dreamlike that when the orgasm and the schmeer of lube and the penetration happened it was all one big thing, one ball of energy, wrapping her and twisting her and spinning her, until she was squeezed out the side of it like a birth, and she was fucking, a seven-inch cock deep in her ass, slithering in and out. It was Noah inside her. She would have know it even if she didn't know it. There was noise in the room, she could hear it, swirling around her ears, guttural sounds from her own mouth, her own lungs, and then Rick was there, ramming eight inches down her throat.

"You wanna be fucked, Belle?" he asked, with anger in his voice. "We're fuckin' you now you dirty little whore. That's what you wanna be, isn't it. A dirty little whore?"

"Holy fuck," Craig said as he watched. "That fuckin' cock looks crazy big in your ass."

"Get your hand under there, Noah," Rick said. "Rub her clit. Make her cum with your cock in her ass. Did your little dick man make you cum, Belle? Huh?"

"No!" she grunted.

"Noah'll do it," Rick said, his voice gruff and forceful. "Noah'll make you cum with his big cock fuckin' you in your ass."

"Oh God yes!" Sabella cried. "Please, Noah! Fuck me 'till I cum!" Her body was alive with it, meeting Noah's deep thrusts with urgency, her mouth slurping at Rick's cock as best she could, sloppy and drooling.

"Yeah, now we're seein' the whore in you," Rick said. "Fuck that big cock. Fuck it 'till you can't walk straight."

Noah's hand was under, moving fast on her slippery wet pussy and clit. Sabella was trying to hold in her screams, but it was a lost cause. They broke free, blasting from her lungs, through the thin walls to the neighbors, and out to the parking lot just outside the curtained window. Her salacious screams were catching ears; a family with children, hustling away; a man in the next room, standing, putting his ear to the wall. She orgasmed with a freer scream, and then huffing grunts as it overwhelmed her. Noah was on fire, fucking deep and hard, his hand a blur. He'd never made a woman—or a girl—cum so hard, and he didn't want it to end. His cock felt like it was squeezed through the eye of a needle, the tightest place it had ever been, astonishing squeezing muscles like nothing he'd never felt. His hand was dripping wet on his mother's pussy, so wet he wondered if she'd squirted, like he'd seen the porn girls do. His own voice was loud, too, egging his orgasming woman on with grunts from the wild intensity of it all.

"Let me in there, buddy," Rick said. "I gotta feel that shit."

He wanted in and he was in, into an asshole left gaping after Noah's exit, an asshole slippery with lube and the greasy slime from Sabella's insides. Sabella's body, out of her control, squeezed its tight sphincter muscle around the huge, invading cock, and Rick the Cop howled like he'd been shot with a magic bullet.

"Fuck!" Craig said, watching, with the bottle in his hand.

"Aaaaaaaaa!" Rick cried, fucking the tight hole deeply. "God...damn!

Sabella was in a constant state of wailing, slapping the bed with her hand, gasping for each breath. But it eased, little by little, as Rick fucked her. A deep warmth filled her, to the depths of her soul, and then the pipe was at her lips, held there by Brandon. The magic smoke filled her lungs, there was some blurry discussion, and then she was manhandled by strong men's hands, lifted and placed on top of Noah, face-to-face with him. For a few seconds she couldn't believe how close he was, his face less than a foot away, the young man she'd raised, the young man she'd birthed...the young man she was fucking again.

"Ohh Godd!" she sighed. "Noah!"

She kissed him, open mouthed, the way a wildly passionate woman does. His cock was so hard, and so deep. It was glorious again. And then there was activity behind her, Sabella felt it, a big hand on her ass and then more, another cock entering her, just inches from Noah's. It was Craig, his fat six-and-a-half inches well lubed, pressing into the unholy tightness of her asshole, an inch at a time. "Jesus fuckin' Christ!" he said, uttering the words like excited gasps.

Sabella gasped, too, with each quick breath, and her hand slapped the bedsheet loudly. "Fuck!" she said, the sharp word stabbing the air. She held her breath and let the swirling high engulf her, and then her mind cleared enough to feel it: two big cocks, both as deep as they could be, filling her fuller than she thought possible. Her men held still, letting her adjust to the new reality, and it was she who started moving, just enough to feel the depth and the size of them.

"Oh good lord in heaven!" she said, her wide eyes looking right down into Noah's.

And then her hips started moving. She wanted to be fucked that way, so she started in on the fucking. Craig started, too.

"Oh, yeah baby, fuck me!" she said. "Fuck my fuckin' dirty ass!"

"Oh yeah!...Oh yeah!" she huffed, grinding her clit hard against Noah's pelvic bone as Craig got started.

It was all too much for Craig—the tightness of the hole his cock was lost in; the soft roundness of the feminine ass his hands were on; the off-the-charts sexiness of the way Sabella was reacting to the deep, gut-stuffed double penetration. He came deep inside her, quicker than he wanted to, and more profoundly than he'd expected. It was his second cumming of the evening, and it left him staggered. And then he was out and Brandon was in, the new man's body moving with the ease and the energy of youth. The slapping body sounds of his swift thrusts were audible through the walls and outside in the night air. Sabella was easily heard as well, growling with devilish gravel in her throat, like a lioness, until Rick stuffed her mouth with his cock.

Noah needed to move. His throbbingly hard cock needed action, so he started fucking, too, down underneath, his muscles tense, full of unsprung energy. He released it, and he and his partner-in-crime Brandon took Sabella to a thrilling, screaming climax that left her limp and nearly catatonic.

"Are you all right?" Noah asked.

She was barely able to huff out some words. "Don't stop. Don't fuckin' stop."

--

On the way home the road shone with black glisten, from a drizzle that had started to fall. Noah drove and Sabella was in the passenger seat, buckled in with her seatbelt. Her fishnet stockings were in her purse, along with her lovely little bra and her crotchless panties. The red dress had ridden up her thighs when she sat down, and nearly all of her slender legs showed. She and Noah, both quiet so far, watched the nighttime traffic and the neon colors reflecting off the wet pavement. Sabella was the first one to break the uneasy silence. "Not much of a bodyguard, are you. You guys ravaged me," she said, with a corner-of-the-eye look and a sly grin. "It was perfect."

Noah kept his eyes on the road. Still high, and buzzing with happy hormones like his mother, he decided against a deep discussion about what had happened in that dingy little motel room. Silence seemed necessary. A cooling off period. A gathering of thoughts.

"Brandon's nice," she said. "Did I hear him say he goes to the same dance clubs as you?"

"Oh, yeah," Noah said. "A couple of 'em."

"You guys could team up. What do you call it, wing men? Wing man? The girls wouldn't stand a chance."

Noah smiled a little. "Nick would be bummed, but yeah, that's an idea."

Sabella asked, "You ever do a threeway with just one girl? You and another guy?"

Noah shook his head, with eyes on the road. "No, just girls. Only...a couple times."

Sabella nodded and turned her gaze to the road, too. "Tell me about it sometime," she said. "They were dance club girls, right?"

Noah nodded.

Sabella relaxed even more, resting her head against the seat back. "I like being friends with you," she said.

—

Tuesday morning, at work, Noah brought the camera back to Uncle Abel's office. "How did it go?" Abel asked. "Did you take the pictures of your Ma's thing?"

"Oh," Noah said. "Yeah."

"What's she selling? Nothing your Pop wants, I hope."

"Oh. No. I guess he's...not too interested in it anymore. Hey, Uncle Abe, can I ask you a question? You're only a year older than Ma, right? Was she into...boys, when you guys were growing up?"

Uncle Abel's demeanor changed, suddenly more serious. "Why do you ask? Did you hear something?"

"No, I'm just curious."

"She was a normal girl," Abel said.

"Normal? She liked boys, you mean?"

"Well, she didn't like girls, thank God," Abel said. "There were two girls in our school who were sent away because of that. No, your mother had the normal urges. We all do. Your grandfather, God rest his soul, he took care of things, the only way he knew how."

"Took care of things?"

"I have things to do, Noah; you'd better get back to work. I suggest you stop thinking about these things and enjoy the wonderful mother you have now. Our past doesn't define us. She's the best woman I know."

Noah thought it slightly odd that his Uncle would be so defensive, but Abel was a confirmed bachelor and his sister Sabella was probably the most important person in his life, especially since Noah's grandparents had passed on.

Later, that evening, Noah got up the courage to go into the house, where his mother was, to come face to face with her and see what they could say to each other. He had no idea how it would go—maybe a deep discussion, or maybe an avoidance of the entire topic of what happened at the motel the night before. He was in the kitchen when he heard his mother's voice coming from the other room. She was speaking on the phone, unaware of his presence...

"No, of course I didn't say anything. You know I wouldn't...Abe, I don't think he looked at you funny...Abe, he does not know you're his father! I've said nothing, and no one else knows! Stop imagining things. You've done this before, remember?...All right, Abe...Yes, of course I'll see you tomorrow. I've been looking forward to it for weeks...No, he doesn't know about that either. Stop being so paranoid. Think about it, Abe. It's you, me, and those nice Koreans who run the Motel. They have no connection with our community. That's why we go there, remember? There's nothing to worry about...All right, Abe...I love you, too. Don't forget to take your pill tomorrow; I want you nice and hard for me. I'm so ready for you..."

Noah didn't take a breath. He thought about escaping, sneaking out through the kitchen door, the way he'd come in, but he was still frozen in place, wide eyed, when his mother rounded the corner with her phone in her hand, wearing a lavender babydoll top that was see-through lace at the breasts, with matching see-through lavender panties peeking out below it. "Oh!...No!...No, Noah! You didn't...you didn't hear...!"

Noah nodded, unblinking, unmoving.

"Oh, Noah," Sabella said, her voice suddenly drained of life. "I suppose it was inevitable. And I know that you...you deserve to know."

"Uncle Abe...is my father?"

"He is," Sabella said. "It's a story I...I would have been embarrassed to tell you, but maybe not so much now...now that we're...friends."

"Pop's not my Pop?"

"Of course he is. He'll always be your Pop. He raised you. He gave you a home, a good home. Sit down, honey. Let's have this talk, the one I've always been afraid of."

"You're not afraid of anything," Noah said. "You never have been."

"Oh yes I am," Sabella said. "Sit. I made a nice brisket for dinner. You'll have some, and we'll have some wine, and we'll talk. I'll tell you everything."

Sabella's confession flowed even before the dinner was served. She told of her promiscuous youth, and her brother Abel's disappointment with his own virginity, and she told of seducing him because she was horny one night, thinking that it would help him as much as it helped her. She walked into his room wearing just her bra and panties, on a hot night when the house they grew up in was sticky with humidity. She convinced Abel to take off his shirt and his pants, so they could sit on his bed in their underwear and be cooler. She got up and put the new Donna Summer record on his cheap plastic record player, and then she danced, the way she'd seen a girl do in a movie. It was almost like a belly dance, slinky movements and sly glances, and then, while she was still dancing, she told Abel about a stripper she was reading about, in a book. She took her bra off slowly, the way she'd read, and she noticed Abel trying to hide the erection that had risen under his cotton undershorts. She asked him if he thought she was sexy and he nodded. She told him that boy's boners were the sexiest thing in the whole world, and she asked him if he knew that. Abel shook his head, and then she was with him, pulling his undershorts down, taking his hard cock into her warm, open mouth. She fucked him, riding him cowgirl style, right there on his bed, with Donna Summer belting out If It Makes You Feel Good.

"Of course we did it lots more after that, and I got pregnant," Sabella said, refilling Noah's wine glass. "Your Grandma and Grandpop didn't have any idea it was your Uncle Abel, of course. I just told them it was 'a boy.' Grandpop arranged a marriage right away—your pop was his friend's younger brother, forty years old and still a bachelor—and the doctor told everyone you were born premature, even though you weren't. Doctors were used to lying in that way back then. I don't know if they still do. So, your Pop, he doesn't know you're not his. No one does anymore, except for me and Abel, and now, you."

"Ma, even after last night, this is too much to believe."

"What started this? What did you say to Abe at work today that worried him?"

"I dunno. I guess I was wondering if you...liked boys, back when you were younger."

Sabella smiled. "You're wondering when I learned I like being a tchotchke? A shmutsik nafka?"

"What's that, Ma?"

"Oh, Noah. I wish you'd spent more time learning. It's a trollop, Honey. A dirty minded slut. No, don't look at me like that. I'm okay with it. I'm very happy with myself, just the way I am. God made me this way, Noah," she said, looking down at the blatant display her tits made in the see-through babydoll lingerie. "There's no other explanation for it."

"But Ma..."

"Let me make you a plate. You'll have some brisket and you'll feel better."

Noah watched his mother transition into a first-class chef, the thing he always used to think she did best. Now, he wasn't so sure; her sexuality seemed equally highly developed. He thought back to last night at the motel, and it was clear that, to her, sex was as natural a thing as breathing. As soon as those men had walked through the door she was a new woman, a free and easy-going woman without a speck of worry. The sexuality flowed from her in a way that was so natural, he hadn't even understood it until he sat there in her kitchen, thinking back on it with a clear, drug and alcohol-free head.

The brisket was meltingly tender, like butter, and the onions and carrots melted in Noah's mouth, too. He watched his mother eat, and his eyes drifted down to take in the details of the babydoll lingerie, with its low 'V' neckline showing off her cleavage. He was getting used to the sight of her nipples, either showing through sheer lace as they were that night, or naked, as they were the night before. They're fine, perky ones, easily aroused, but soft at that moment, at the table.

"Pop really doesn't know?"

"About you, you mean?" Sabella asked. "I don't think so. I think I'd be able to tell if he did. It's been so many years now. I haven't had a hint of it."

Noah ate some more, and then he asked another question. "You were talking to Uncle Abe. You're seeing him...Friday?"

Sabella nodded, her eyes searching Noah's. "We've never stopped, Noah. We've been...lovers, I guess you could say, since before you were born."

Noah was silent, eating.

"It really is love, you know," Sabella said. "The best kind. If we'd been born two-hundred years ago we would have run off and gotten married. No one would have known we were brother and sister. I'm sure it happened back then, probably lots of times."

More silence. More eating.

"Pop was really that old? I guess I never really though about it. So...you and me are closer in age than you and Pop?"

"That's true," Sabella said. "And you and I are closer in spirit, too. Much closer. I know you love sex. I'm sure you got that from me."

Noah couldn't disagree. "It's...the same motel?"

"Where we were last night, you mean? Yes. Every time your Pop travels Abe books a room for the entire time. He's made a deal with the owners, gets a good rate. I meet him there, during the day mostly. He calls them 'lunch meetings.' And then of course I have the key to the room, and I meet my other gentlemen there, in the evening or sometimes late at night."

Noah finished his dinner, washing it down with beer.

"How's the brisket?" Sabella asked. "Good?"

"The best, Ma," Noah said. "You're...somethin' else."

Sabella smiled. The moment seemed right, so she said, "Would you be a dear and look at my tushee for me? I'm a little sore back there, from last night. I want to make sure it's not torn."

"Oh, shit, Ma. Really?"

"I've got some salve to put on it, but I just need someone to take a look."

Noah nodded. He was wishing he was high and mellow, instead of the tack-sharp way his mind felt. He followed his mother to her bedroom, where he assumed they'd turn the corner into her bathroom, but instead she was suddenly on the bed, on elbows and knees, with her lavender panties down around her thighs. Her naked ass and glistening pussy were up high and proud. She'd scooped up the tube of salve from her dresser on her way by, and had it in her hand.

Does it look okay, Honey? I know it's a little swollen, but...that Craig had me stretched to my limits, you know."

Noah climbed onto the bed, on hands and knees, to get a closer look at the abused little asshole. "Yeah, I guess. It's just...kinda red."

"Oh, good. Put some salve on it for me, nice and gentle."

Noah squeezed some on his finger and...

"Ohhh!" Sabella sighed. "That feels...wwwow! It's because it's cold, I guess. Oh my God that feels sexy! Now you've done it. Now you're gonna have to kiss my pussy...if you want to."

Noah's mouth went there, without thought or worry. The familiar taste of his mother's excited juices woke up his taste buds even more than her delicious brisket had done, and just a moment later he was eating her with moaning energy, with his nose pressed tight against her ointment-slippery asshole. Sabella was moaning, too, feeling as horny as she could remember, hoping upon hope that Noah would...

"Ohhhh, God yes!" she said, when his big cock sunk into her, deep in her pussy, where she longed for it to be. It was a slow, gentle fucking, exactly what she needed, as if her sweet son was reading her mind. It went on for a luxurious amount of time, and she came with a vibrating shudder, one that Noah was glad he experienced clear-headed. He came, too, soon after, pumping his cum deep in the squeezing contractions of his mother's remarkable pussy. His quiet sighs were music to Sabella's ears.

—

The next morning, when Noah was at work, Sabella looked out her front window and saw Millie Titchman outside. It was trash pick-up day, and Millie had walked down the driveway to greet the trash men, something Sabella had seen her do before. Millie was dressed in her usual manner—a low-cut summer dress made of fine linen, hemmed right at her knees, the fabric a colorful splash of stylized flowers. The tops of her fleshy breasts showed spectacularly, and looked especially jiggly. Sabella wondered why the trash men never dragged Millie into her garage to rape her. Of course it wouldn't technically be rape, because Millie wouldn't be at all unhappy with such an occurrence.

When the big smelly truck rumbled away to the next house, Sabella hustled out her door, waving. "Hi, Millie," she yelled. Millie stood there, lost in a bit of a daydream, watching the handsomest of the sanitation workers toss a can full of the neighbor's garbage like it weighed nothing. She snapped out of it when she saw Sabella approaching.

"Hi Sabella. What's new?"

"The sandy-haired guy with the muscly tush," Sabella said, looking his way. "He's new."

"Oh, I know," Millie said, letting her gaze drift back in his direction. "If only. Right?"

"I wouldn't say no to him," Sabella said. "Not with Mervin away."

"Saul's gone, too," Millie said. "One of these times when they're both away we should have a wild party or something. You know, last time he was away it took me a week to wash the cheap perfume smell out of all his clothes."

"Oy, tell me something I don't know already. Do you think they buy it for them? The perfume, for the girls?"

"Maybe it's because they smell bad," Millie said, getting catty. "I tell myself that, but maybe they're really nice. Maybe they look better than me."

"Are you kidding?" Sabella said. "Those sanitation guys can barely function when they see you coming down the driveway. I laugh every time."

Millie looked surprised. "You've seen me? Before? Oh, no. I hope everybody else in the neighborhood isn't watching."

"The heck with 'em, I say. Do your thing. I'm sure those boys are disappointed on the days when you don't come out to say hi."

"Do you think?" Millie said, looking wistfully at the big noisy truck that was already a block away.

"Are you kidding?" Sabella said. "When you die and we sit shiva for you, the house will be full of sanitation workers, all of them crying like babies."

Millie smiled, her face lighting up beautifully. "That's hilarious, but I hope it's true. I'd love it if Saul was left wondering."

"Speaking of wild parties," Sabella said, "let's have a little tiny one tonight. You and me and a bottle of Slivovitz."

"Ooo, I always get tipsy when I drink that," Millie said, her eyes twinkling.

"Sounds perfect, then," Sabella said. "I'll see if Noah can join us."

Millie's eyes widened. "You drink with him? For pleasure?"

"Oh, sure! We even got shit-faced together, twice now."

Millie was smiling again, her face lit up with wonder. "Oh my gosh," she said. "Was Mervin in on it?"

"Oh no," Sabella said. "Not a bit. It's a secret. I know you can keep them, and Noah's good at keeping them."

Millie nodded, temporarily speechless.

"It's a date then," Sabella said. "Seven o'clock? Or you could come for dinner..."

"No, no," Millie said. "Seven's fine."

"Good. I'm sure Noah will be here. He always enjoys seeing you."

Millie was speechless again, her mind already spinning with thoughts of what to wear, for Noah.

"You always look so nice, maybe I'll put on a dress," Sabella said. "I've got a cute little cocktail number I wore when Mervin took me to the Rainbow Room."

"Oh, wow, we're dressing up?"

"Yes, lets," Sabella said. "We can make it a habit. Whenever our husbands are away, we'll put on our finest and our sexiest, high heels and all, and we'll giggle in my kitchen over a bottle of something strong."

Millie nodded, still smiling. "Okay. I have some new dresses. I haven't even worn them yet."

"Oh, how fun!" Sabella said, smiling. "Yes, this will be fun."

—

Noah sat in his mother's kitchen, watching her wipe the last crumb off her spotless counters. It felt odd sitting there, waiting, dressed for a party when just one person was coming. Sabella had talked him into wearing his best white linen shirt and his tight black jeans, the new ones that were still jet-black and crisp looking. He didn't feel relaxed. Part of it was the thumping of his heart, due to the sight of his mother in a cocktail dress he hadn't seen before. It seemed to fit her like it had grown on her, snug but not trampy, every tailored seam curved just so, following and beautifying her already beautiful little body. The little dress made her look younger, or maybe it was the glowing happiness that wearing it made her feel. For whatever reason, she looked stunning, and sexy, and Noah could hardly take his eyes off of her.

Millie knocked at the door and Noah got up to answer it. He swung it open and another stunning sight met his eyes. He'd seen Millie in pretty dresses before, out on the street and at Temple, but seeing her all put together in her sexiest little dress, with her leggy, stockinged legs up on high heels, and her makeup and her hair glowing and smelling like springtime, well, it made it hard for Noah to breathe.

"My goodness," Sabella said, looking across the room at Millie. "You do know how to incapacitate them, don't you."

Millie giggled and stepped inside. "Hi Noah," she said, rising to her toes to kiss him, awkwardly, on the cheek. Neither he nor she had expected such a move, and Millie's face blushed with embarrassment.

"It's a shame you're not closer in age," Sabella said. "You make an adorable couple."

Noah poured three glasses of Slivovitz from a freshly opened bottle. He'd managed to say a few stumbling words to Millie, but he was glad to have the few moments of bartending to gather his thoughts. Sometimes he hated being a stoner. He disliked the word and didn't think of himself as one, but all the beer and all the weed over the years had definitely slowed his thinking a bit, stunting his skill with adult conversation. He was looking forward to getting a glass of the kosher plum brandy in his system, to help lubricate his social skills.

It was a simple kitchen party; sitting some, standing some, sipping strong brandy and snacking on rugelach and stuffed dates that Sabella had made that afternoon. Millie got to know Noah, the way she'd always wanted to, the way a girl would if she was hoping for more. She felt young as she stood there next to him, leaning against the kitchen counter. The brandy was doing its thing, and she and Noah and Sabella were feeling the buzzing warmth of it. They'd been there for over an hour already, and the smiles and laughter were easier than easy.

"I was telling Noah you used to do some modeling," Sabella said, "and you know all about his interest in photography. I don't know why I never thought of this before, but, why don't you two combine your hobbies. What with Saul and Mervin both gone, like they sometimes are, no one will know but me, and the good Lord knows that I'm as easy-going as they come. You two could work on an audition for Playboy and it wouldn't so much as phase me." Sabella winked at Millie, and Millie took it like a shot to the head. Not a gun and bullet kind of shot, it was more like the feeling she got after a big-ass shot of potato vodka, chilled, from the freezer, the way her Saul likes to serve it, only bigger, with a wham! to the head that makes you dizzy.

"Sure, we could try some pictures," Noah said, and Millie's head took another shot; another wham!

"Oh, we shouldn't," Millie said. "Should we?"

"I wouldn't have mentioned it," Sabella said, "but I noticed that Noah brought the camera home from work today, so..."

Noah smiled at his mother. She's the one who'd asked him to bring it home again, and now he knew why. "Oh, yeah. I did," he said, glancing at Millie to see if there was any interest showing on her face. To his great surprise, there was.

"I guess," Millie said, sheepishly. "I mean, if you really want to."

"You two have fun," Sabella said. "Don't judge me by the condition of his room, Millie. He never lets me clean up there."

Millie felt it again. Another wham! Noah's room! Up where he is when she listens, when she's sitting down below with her little dog, getting hornier than horny can be.

Sabella's fancy gold living room clock chimed once for eight-thirty just as the little party was breaking up. It didn't feel like it was ending, so Millie didn't hug her or thank her or say goodbye. It was when Millie crossed the short walkway outside and headed into the garage that the weight of things hit her. Sabella looked out through the kitchen door and said, "I'll see you tomorrow, dears," and then she was gone, and Millie was alone with Noah, following him up the creaky stairs to his room.

It was a mess, Noah's room, because he wasn't expecting a visitor and because it was pretty much a mess all the time. Millie learned that he wore Tommy Hilfiger boxer briefs under his jeans, because there were two pair laying around, looking used and ready for the laundry. And she nearly gasped when she saw the three wadded up tissues on his rumpled bed, tissues that he was quickly gathering and disposing of. He wasn't sick with a cold, so they had probably been used to clean up after a masturbation, that very morning, maybe. Millie's quiet gasp was partly because the thought of it had come so freely to her mind; she must have been on the wavelength of it.

The sight of his big clear glass bong surprised her, too, sitting, as it was, right out in the open, on his bedside table. A rolled up baggie of weed was next to it, and a big box of wooden stick matches. An old-fashioned milk-glass ashtray held the burned bones of the used ones, and some burned up ash and seeds.

There were empty beer bottles here and there, one next to the bed, and more dirty clothes scattered around. The only order in the room was on the walls—a collection of posters, hung perfectly straight, quite obviously curated by an ass man. The biggest was a picture of six young women, standing with their arms around each other's waists, all with their cheeky backsides toward the camera. They wore sneakers, knee socks, black thong-style panties and nothing else. One of them looked over her shoulder at the camera, and one of them had a soccer ball between her feet.

Another poster—in black and white for extra artistic affect—showed a topless long-haired blonde, facing away from the camera, one hand on her hourglass hip and the other pushing down her faded bluejeans, revealing the promising beginnings of the crack of her ass.

Another showed Britney Spears, a side view, with perky tits under a ribbed white tank top, a bare midriff, and her bubble-butt behind adorned in embroidered shorts.

There were other posters and pictures, one showing a girl blatantly topless, her nipples on high alert, her big breasts shining with massage oil. Millie was surprised by the nudity, right there where Sabella had undoubtedly seen it.

"Wow, this is...quite the place," Millie said, as she tried to make sense of the rank but oddly sweet odor of the room. "I've often wondered."

"Really?" Noah said.

"Oh. I mean...not like...a lot," Millie said, suddenly flustered, blushing in a way she knew was visible. "But...you're...right across the road."

Noah nodded, with an impish smile that was helped by the alcohol in him. "Yeah, so are you," he said. "I guess we're both curious sometimes."

Millie smiled shyly, still blushing. She thought about the times they'd looked at each other, Noah up behind his window, her down in her yard, or walking the dog on the street. She was tempted to check out the view from up there, to see it the way he sees it, but Noah's curtains were closed, and besides, she wouldn't want one of the other neighbors to see her peering out.

"Do you want a beer?" Noah asked. "They're warm, but...I kinda like 'em that way."

"Oh. Sure, I guess."

Noah opened two of the four that were left in the sixpack. He used a bottle opener from his pocket, a shiny brass one that Millie was intrigued by, but it was back in his pocket before she got a good look at it. She took a sip of the flavorful, darkish beer. "Wow, that's...really good," she said.

"You like it? Fuck, I wish I had more. Oh, sorry. I'm used to...talking to Ma."

Millie looked intrigued. "You swear when you talk to her?"

"Yeah. I probably shouldn't, but...we've gotten kind of used to it."

Millie took another sip. "I always figure guys don't swear around me because they think I'm expensive or something. Because I dress nice."

"Like, upper class, you mean?"

"Yeah, that," Millie said. "I haven't always been, though. I grew up in a real dump. When the modeling scout saw me I was dressed in my older brother's old workshirt and his dirty jeans."

"Oh, wow," Noah said. "That sounds...kinda good. I can imagine you that way."

Millie's eyebrows scrunched together. "Can you? After all these years of seeing me the way...I am?"

"Yeah. I'd love to do some pictures of you like that," Noah said, glancing down at Millie's close to perfect fifty-something body. "I mean...this dress too, but..."

Millie smiled. "Wow. You know, I miss having guys take my picture. I used to really love it. A big part of it was that I could be sexy, without my mother and father knowing about it."

"They never saw the pictures?"

"Oh, no, they saw them. They were standard catalog shots, and things like that. Nothing too sexy. No, I mean at the shoot itself. If my mother wasn't there I used to love prancing around in my underwear between wardrobe changes. I was already almost as developed as I am now. One of the photographer's assistants used to call me the cutest little Jew in New York."

Noah smiled, but Millie worried that she sounded conceited. She didn't feel that way often—she loved and was proud of her body, even as age had started to change it—but Noah set off new kinds of triggers inside her, things she hadn't felt in years. For one thing, she loved how his powerful physique towered over her by nearly a foot, a characteristic that seemed even more exaggerated under the low sloping ceilings of his attic-space bedroom.

"How long did you do it for?"

"The modeling?" she said. "About six years. Until Saul saw me and swept me into his world."

Noah nodded. He didn't want to talk about Mr. Titchman. He wanted to pretend to be a photographer, even though he was just a lowly hobbyist, and he wanted Millie to prance around in her underwear. It would mean a wardrobe change, and he already had a plan in mind to make it happen. The Cutest Little Jew of 1980 was still just as cute, as far as he was concerned, and he had a strong feeling she was ready to blossom again in front of a camera.

"Do you get high?" he asked.

"I don't," Millie said, glancing at the big bong. "I never have, I guess I should say. Do you want me to?" There was a coy little smile beneath her twinkling, beautifully made-up eyes. It looked like a dare me smile, with a yes behind it.

"I shouldn't...tell you...that," Noah said. "I mean...do you want to?"

Millie smiled and nodded. "Let's," she said. "I feel safe here. And you can carry me home if I have too much and O.D."

Noah laughed. Millie was starting to seem like a new person. Mrs. Titchman was gone, replaced by someone more youthful and carefree. It had started happening down in the kitchen, with the way she held her legs when she leaned, and the way one of her stockinged feet was almost always mostly out of her expensive high heeled shoe. Her first giggles, down there in the kitchen, were part of it, and then her loose, lovely laughs. The quick glances out the sides of her eyes, the little licks of her tongue on her lipsticked lips when she searched for rugelach crumbs—it had all added and multiplied. And then, suddenly, she sat on Noah's mattress-on-the-floor bed, with her shoes kicked off and her stockinged feet and legs curled around her. She leaned back on one arm and looked surprisingly perfect. Not because her dressed-to-the-nines perfection looked surprising, but because it seemed to magically fit right in with the fratboy mess of the room. Only a youthful spirit can do that.

"How does it work?" she asked, when Noah approached with the big bong.

"I'll show you," he said, sitting himself down cross-legged next to her. He lit the bowl and cleared the smoky chamber, getting a huge lungful.

Millie looked fascinated. "Now I know what some of the smell is in here."

"Oh, no. Is it bad?"

"Kind of," she said, smiling as she took the bong from Noah. "Okay, here goes nothing."

Noah held the flame while Millie inhaled. He let the chamber clear, watching through the clear glass as the smoke whooshed into her mouth like a voodoo spirit does in the movies. She coughed, like all first-timers do.

"That's all right," Noah said. "Ma had trouble the first few times, too."

Millie's eyes widened. "She does this with you? Wow. You know, I always thought she was the coolest woman in the neighborhood." Millie's eyes stayed wide, because the sound of her own voice struck her differently, and because Noah's face was even sexier, and because everything she looked at was amazing and somehow alive with a new beauty. Noah stood up and she reached for him, to keep him there next to her, but her grasping hand was seconds too late, even though she was sure it wasn't. "Where...where are you going?" she asked, amazed that her voice was seconds too late, too.

"What kind of music do you like," he asked.

Millie's head swiveled around, and the room seemed to be going the other way. "Ohhh! Wowww!" she said. "A record player! I haven't seen one in years!" She tried to stand, not an easy thing to do in her snug little cocktail dress. She toppled back down, onto her back with her knees up, giggling and then laughing. She looked at the ceiling as she laughed, seemingly unaware that her dress no longer hid the tops of her sheer black thigh-high stockings, the creamy bare flesh of her upper thighs, and the jet-black of her Victoria's Secret panties.

"Oh my gosh!" she laughed. "Am I high...already?"

"Probably. It's a good bag."

Millie's knees went together and she lowered them to her side and she scootched herself up into a sitting position again.

"You probably like classic rock, right?" Noah asked. The slinky funk of Steely Dan's Aja album floated into the odorous air.

"Oh...My...God!" Millie said. "That sounds so good! I remember this one!"

Her sitting-down body started dancing, from the hips up, just enough to bring her cleavage to life. With closed eyes she moved to the groove.

"You've got the prettiest smile," Noah said. He was surprised he'd said it, but he was riding a nice rushing high, too.

"Really?" Millie said, her eyes open and huge. She looked like it was the first—and best—compliment she'd ever received in her life.

"Your eyes, too," he said. "You're super beautiful."

"Noah! You really think so? I've always sorta wondered...if you...noticed me."

"Yeah," Noah said.

"I think so, too," Millie said. "You're the most handsome man I've ever seen. I've always thought it's because your mother's so pretty. You got the pretty genes, from her."

"Jeans! That's what I was gonna say!" Noah said, looking like he'd just discovered a wonderful old thought. "I wanna take your picture, in my old jeans and one of my shirts. Like you used to wear, like you were saying."

"Me, in...your clothes?"

"They'll be too big, but..."

"I can make it work," Millie said. Her already stoned-looking eyes told of her excitement.

Noah smiled, picked up the bong and joined her on the bed again.

"More?" she said.

Noah didn't answer. He lit the bowl and the smoke bubbled through. He handed Millie the bong when he exhaled the big cloud. She put it to her mouth, he lit it, and she inhaled more than she'd done the first time. She coughed it out, but not before holding it a little better. The rush in her happy mind felt profound. Noah held the bong when she flopped down on her back again. Her knees stayed together, off to one side of her, and she giggled again, like a cute teenaged girl.

Noah's high was beautiful, too, and he did what came naturally—he lifted one of Millie's stockinged feet and tickled its bottom.

Sabella, sitting in the overstuffed chair in her bedroom, right next to the open window, listened to gales of happy giggles floating across the gap from the garage. Millie's laughter was so joyous it made Sabella giggle, too, quietly, of course, so she wouldn't be heard.

It went on for the longest time—Millie, completely lost in the tickles, and Noah, wanting to keep her breathlessly laughing forever. It finally abated, with Millie gasping for air. "How did...how did you know!" she asked. "That was better than...sex!" Her beautiful laughter was only part of the fun for Noah. Her jiggling bosom and getting to see her panties again were equally compelling.

All of which, of course, made Noah's cock hard. His new black jeans were steadfast, though, holding it at bay. The last song on the Steely Dan record side slowed and mellowed the mood. Millie reached for Noah's hand and he pulled her to a sitting position again, her slightly swaying body still short of oxygen. The quick shift to upright gave her a headrush of epic proportions. "Wow!" she said . "I'm...high!"

Noah giggled and stood up, reaching for his camera. He took a few quick shots of Millie, just as she was, so he'd remember her that way— a slightly disheveled beautiful woman on a very disheveled bed. "You're starting?" she said, slowly realizing she should fix her hair and straighten her dress. Her panties weren't showing but it was close—the tops of her thigh-high stockings were on display and her left breast was nearly tumbling out of her twisted dress.

"You're perfect," Noah said, clicking the shutter a few dozen times.

Millie looked down at herself and giggled. "Oh," she said, tugging at her dress to try and even out her locally famous cleavage. "You know, my left one's bigger than my right one." When she realized she'd said that to the young man she crushed on, she giggled even more, and then she laughed. "I haven't laughed so much in years!" she said.

Noah flipped the record. The upbeat song Peg started playing. With the camera back in his hands, he was circling and crouching, clicking picture after picture. "Stand up," he said. Millie tried, the lady-like way, but it was no use, so she hiked-up her little dress to get her legs to separate properly and she wobbled to her feet, giggling.

"You're seeing more of an old woman than you want to, probably," she said, straightening her dress down over the tops of her stockings again.

"Are you kidding?" Noah said, with the camera to his eye. "We're just getting started."

Noah's comment flew right over Millie's very high head. Her mind and body, unable to resist, locked into the songs infectious dance groove. Within moments she was dancing for the camera, hamming it up the way she sometimes did when she was a young fashion model, with hands up behind her neck, thrusting and shaking the big moneymakers on her chest. All the while a huge, radiant smile lit up her happy face. There wasn't much room, what with Noah's mattress on the floor and piles of other things, but she made the most of what little bare floor there was.

Noah was smiling, too, behind the camera. He'd photographed girlfriends over the years, but there was something magical about Millie. She'd been an icon of mature sexuality for so many years of his life; all of them really, all of the years that counted, the ones since his cock first got hard and he discovered how good his hand felt on it. Back then Millie confused him. Sexual feelings, even fleeting ones, for a woman older than his mother were cause for some soul searching. But then he realized his friends had eyes for Mrs. Titchman, too, and he noticed the way the young mailman lingered in her presence. It was the tits, of course, and the hourglass curves of her waist and hips, but it was also her eyes, and her amazing, spectacular smile, the smile that looked like magic in the viewfinder of his camera, right there in his bedroom.

"Turn around, and pull up the dress a little. Let me see your stockings."

Millie giggled and did it, still dancing as she turned away from Noah, holding the hem of her dress as high as she dared, just an inch or two below the damp gusset of her panties. Dancing had never felt like it was feeling, and music had never sounded like it was sounding. The song, so much funkier than she remembered it, blotted out everything rational, and the hem of her dress rose some more, and some more, until her panties and the bare skin of the small of her back were showing. It was the dancing ass Noah had hoped to see, and then it was gone, and Millie was laughing. "I feel so naughty!" she giggled.

The song ended and the needle quietly hissed into the record's run-out groove. Millie's eyes followed Noah when he put down the camera and went to tend to it, her happily stoned gaze settling on his muscular backside. The record playing ritual—putting the black vinyl disc into a paper sleeve, putting that into the cardboard jacket, taking another record out and cuing up the needle—seemed so ancient to her, like something from another life. She was frozen there, standing still, without another thought in her head. A Van Morrison album was spinning, his voice singing, And it stoned me, to my soul...stoned me just like jellyroll, and it sto-oned me...

"Oh my god," Millie said, realizing she was hearing a saxophone—really hearing a saxophone—for the very first time. "Why does this all sound sooo gooood! I can't believe you're into all this old music! Where did you get it all?"

"A lot of it was my uncle's. I found the turntable in Ma and Pop's basement."

Millie closed her eyes and raised her arms straight out at her sides, like a bird's wings. She swayed and bobbed gently to the beat. Noah loved seeing her that way, high and mellow, giving herself fully to the sweet music. He undressed her with his eyes, down to the black panties he knew were there and the black bra that he assumed was there. Her breasts were too big to be without one, he reasoned. His jeans held back his erect cock again. He hoped the lump wasn't too noticeable.

Millie's eyes opened when she heard him moving. Her slow, barely-a-dance continued as she watched him rummaging though his clothes. When he was done he held a pair of faded bluejeans in one hand, and a blue long-sleeved button-front shirt in the other.

"Are those for me to wear?" Millie asked, her voice as mellow and sweet as the music. Noah nodded, and she said, "Not that shirt. I want the one you have on."

Noah smiled. He dropped the unwanted shirt on the floor, tossed the jeans on the bed, and started unbuttoning the one he was wearing. It was his mother's favorite; soft pure-white linen that she kept clean and ironed for him.

Millie had seen him shirtless many times, years ago, when he was a teenager mowing lawns. He mowed his own and she used to hire him to do hers, a weekly ritual that she kept her eye on surreptitiously, standing back behind her lace curtained windows. She was the age Sabella is now, and it was a time when Noah and his friends were discovering the magic of girls and women. It was right around the time her quietly whispered nickname—Mrs. Tits—was born, and all of Noah's friends were jealous of his proximity to her. The shirtless mowing was actually his best friend's idea. "Ya gotta do it, man!" the friend had said. "Maybe she'll let you inside and give you a blowjob! Oh my god, that'd be so awesome!"

Millie was well aware, of course, of the name they called her, and of the reason why Noah showed her his shirtless teenaged body every week. She well remembered adolescence and the hormones that confused and excited. And she probably would have brought him indoors and taken advantage of him sexually, if she'd thought she could have gotten away with it, without a soul ever finding out about it.

And so there she was, face to face with him in his bedroom, his much more mature and muscular body shirtless again. It was the moment when she noticed the lump in his blacker-than-black jeans, and suddenly she could barely breathe. Noah handed her the shirt, still warm from his body, and he picked up the faded bluejeans and handed them to her as well. Van Morrison was singing Moondance, a song Millie remembered.

Well, it's a marvelous night for a moondance

With the stars up above in your eyes...

"You know how to pick 'em, don't you," she said, the words somehow coming without breathing. She stood still for a few seconds, looking into Noah's sexy eyes, and she said, "You'll have to unzip me." The truth was, he didn't have to; she could have managed it herself, but she wanted him to do it. It was a risky form of play, but just being there with him was risky, and she was suddenly dying for that melting feeling she knew she'd get when his fingers did the deed. Nothing else seemed to matter.

The zipper went down slowly, or maybe it was their high minds making it seem that way, with a heightened awareness of the sound and feel of each and every tooth releasing from its neighbor. When it was fully down Noah stepped away, and Millie took a few steps, too, as if six or seven feet of distance between them would make what was happening more respectable. There was all that slightly smoky air acting as a veil, after all, and with no other room to change in, Millie's shit-faced mind told her that was enough.

The magic weed let her feel goosebump tingles in an entirely new way when she let the dress slip down her body. She pushed it over the curve of her ass and stepped out of it. Still facing away from Noah, she wanted to look over her shoulder at him, to see his reaction to seeing her in panties and a bra, but she didn't. She squatted like a lady to pick up his jeans and then she pulled them onto her legs and had to work a bit, with wiggles and tugs, to get them pulled up over her ass. It's not a big ass, it's the perfect one for her body, but a woman's is different than a man's. The waist of the bluejeans was much too loose—again, a woman thing—but she fastened it, and then she stood there, looking at the shirt on the floor. Noah wondered about the pause...but then he knew what she'd been thinking. She did glance at him this time, a quick, shy smile over her shoulder, and then her hands went behind her, she unfastened her bra and it was quickly off. When she bent for the shirt, Noah saw the side of her big breast, hanging and moving freely, and when she stood and put the shirt on he got another nice glimpse of it before she was fully covered. She buttoned a few buttons before turning to face him. The buttons she'd chosen—the lower down ones—left her soft, deep cleavage free to astound. "I didn't know if they'd fit," she said, looking at the way her thighs filled out the legs of his jeans. Noah nodded, a bit stunned as the gravity of the situation started to seep in. "A belt might make it look better," Millie said.

Noah surprised Millie—and set off her gloriously tingly goosebumps again—when he took off the belt he was wearing and stepped forward to hand it to her. "It's a good thing you don't want me in black jeans," she said, smiling in a new, shyer way.

Noah looked down at the jeans he wore, getting the meaning of what she'd said at the same moment he realized her eyes were on the lump constraining his erection. It was his turn to get goosebumpy, all over his six-pack stomach, chest and arms, and Millie saw every one of the tiny, sexy bumps. Her mind was suddenly so hyper aware, she could almost count them.

Her high took over her thinking, and she held the front tails of Noah's white shirt in her teeth, getting some of her nice lipstick on them in the process. Her idea was to give herself a visual on the belt looping operation, a surprisingly difficult thing to do when shit-faced, she was finding out, especially when the clothes you're wearing aren't your own. Noah didn't know if he should offer to help or not, so he took pictures instead. It made Millie giggle and prolonged the whole undertaking, but Noah enjoyed seeing her like that, naked around the middle. "Don't be hanging my bellybutton on your wall," she said when she was finished, chuckling when she thought of what that would look like if it were done literally.

Van Morrison started to sing Into the Mystic, the last song on the album's side. "This is a cool song," Noah said. Millie took his word for it, plopping herself down on the bed-on-the-floor for a listen. She was soon on her back, with her knees up as they seemed to like to be. Noah joined her, sitting, with the big bong in his hand and a flame over the bowl.

"More?" Millie said, surprised. "Wow...Okay."

Noah exhaled a big cloud and Millie took the bong, inhaling a hit worthy of the big lungs in that astonishing chest of hers. She flopped back again, exhaling a column of smoke that drifted toward the ceiling, and Van Morrison's voice soared. I wanna rock your gypsy soul, just like way back in the days of old..., and Millie was there, into the mystic.

She never really came down. Certainly not for the next three hours, and not even after that, she'll tell you. Fucking Noah would have been wonderful enough, but doing it while gloriously high was the best thing she'd ever done in her life, bar none. When she first opened her shirt for him and showed him her naked breasts, she had a near orgasm just from the look on his face and the high-voltage in the air. And when he opened his beltless black jeans and pushed them down, her body turned to soft rubber and her mind turned into the sky. She was his, and he was hers, and they were one. Noah had managed to flip the record to side two before the shirt opening and the jean removing, so there was music, and Noah fucked Millie to the rhythm of it, deeper and smoother and more beautifully than her very best dreams. Noah's perfect body was godly, she was sure of it, and the orgasm he gave her proved it. It was to the slow rhythm of the song Brand New Day, her mind expanding to the heavens when the huge orgasm overwhelmed her, with Van Morrison singing ...make me feel so free, make me feel like me, and it lights my life with love...

Noah was close to cumming, too, and when he pulled out he put his slippery cock between Millie's tits—a first for her—and he came as fast as his fourteen-year-old self would have done, blasting shots of cum against Millie's chin that dripped down both sides of her neck. It was gasp-worthy, and then Millie laughed. She was ecstatic, and the world was a perfect dream.

Having never had sex with someone who wanted to continue, Millie was covering new ground from that moment on. Led Zeppelin went on the turntable and the sex turned oral. A cock hadn't graced her mouth for two decades, and it turned out she was as hungry for one as she'd imagined, which was usually every trash day, and every day she saw Noah in his workday trousers.

It started, though, with Noah's mouth on her pussy, with his strong hands holding her thighs in a legs-in-the-air position. "Oh!" she said, when the wonderful surprise of it happened, seemingly out of nowhere. She's natural down there, fully bushed, trimmed with scissors to a fine, soft nap. Her pussy looks like a blossom, pink and juicy, with no lips to speak of. It's the kind of pussy that opens when she spreads, and Noah's moaning mouth reveled in its warm wetness.

Her clit was there, as easy and welcoming as any he'd ever seen. The music was quiet but thunderous when Millie's second orgasm hit her, a free flowing one that rose up without a hint of apprehension. She wondered if the easy magic of it was from the marijuana, or from Noah's skill, or maybe it was his upstairs room, a place of wonder that she'd dreamed about and now was in, with it's oddly beautiful disarray as charming as the boyish man who was tonguing her electrified clit.

"Stop!...Stop!" she whimpered in gasping giggles, pushing his head away, her thighs shaking and trembling from the powerful orgasm. "Oh my God!"

Noah smiled a glistening smile that melted her heart, and then her world was literally spinning. Noah was rolling her and he was turning and she was on top and it was the sixty-nine position that she'd heard about but never tried. That's when two decades of hunger for a cock in her mouth was satiated, and she couldn't quite believe it was at the same moment that her freshly orgasmed pussy was in Noah's mouth again. She suddenly realized it was the position of all positions. The one that proves God is real and He made human beings the way he did for a reason.

Millie didn't want it to end. Ever. She wanted to do a bong hit right there, and maybe eat one of Sabella's rugelach, and she wanted to lie there on top of Noah's naked body, with her pussy at his mouth and his big beautiful cock right there by her face, forever. Everything about him, even the scent of his balls, intoxicated her. She'd touched a man's balls before, just palming them in her hand a little bit, but never before had she used her mouth on any, the way she was doing with Noah at that very moment, licking playfully with her tongue and then filling her mouth with them. Her hand stroked his big cock as she mouthed them, the long, hot shaft still wet with her slobber.

Sabella listened at the window, imagining, picturing the sixty-nine she couldn't see. She was glad the Led Zeppelin record wasn't too loud. The deeply sexual moans were clear to hear, and she could even make out the sighs, though barely. It was enough. An image of the goings-on clarified in her head, so much so that she cast aside the new cookbook she'd been reading. Her fingers slipped under her panties and she imagined it was her son's tongue there, her mouth salivating with the remembered taste of his cock.Millie's third orgasm was louder, freer, a lovely mix of laughter and upheaval. Noah rolled her off and rammed his cock into her, doggy style. It wasn't a request, it was a need, and Millie loved it. Flashing thoughts of sanitation workers taking her by force in her garage flung her into another wild, screaming, bucking orgasm. Noah was loud too, his voice reverberant as he fucked her with all his fury, his body suddenly spasming as Millie's was, the two of them lost in the shit-faced ether, realizing that reality was as better than any dream.

They were both stunned when it melted to an ending, Noah's cock still deep, throbbing the last drops of his cum deep inside of her. The record had ended; heavy breathing and the nearly silent skipping of the needle were the only sounds in the room. Noah kept his cock in Millie because it felt ever so right. He bent and kissed her sweaty back and her shoulders, and his hands went to the profoundly weighty tits that hung under her.

Millie didn't know what to say. She'd just been fucked to perfection by the perfect man, at the perfect time, in the perfect place. The best sex of her life, without question.

Noah was speechless, too. As he felt the soft, warm weight of Millie's breasts in his hands, he thought of what his mother had said in the kitchen, about he and Millie making "an adorable couple." "It's a shame you're not closer in age," she'd said, and Noah suddenly felt sad. Feelings hit him that way once in a while, usually when he's on the back side of a good high.

"Can we...do this again?" he said.

"Already? Oh my God!"

"No. I mean...will we be able to...do this again sometime?"

"Oh," Millie said, sensing his melancholy and his desire. Her body flushed with heat and tingled with goosebumps, helped along by Noah's warm hands, his continuing shoulder kisses, and that big cock that was still inside her. "I want to," she said. "But not when Saul's home. When he's off fucking his African girls I'm all yours, if you want me." The thrill of saying it to Noah was almost as good as an orgasm.

"Really?" Noah said, smiling.

Millie moaned. It was Noah's cock, still inside her, getting hard again, that made her do it. "Yes," she sighed, feeling the beginnings of his slow fucking. "I want to."

His hands moved to her hips, she lowered her shoulders and her head to the rumpled sheet, and they were fucking again, Noah swelling to full hardness inside her, Millie moaning like a happy whore. Sabella wondered what position they were in. She couldn't tell.

-

A little while later, while lying on his side next to Millie, Noah's hand played gently with her breast, his finger tracing circles around the nipple. "Ma says you look like Sophia Loren," he said.

Millie smirked. She'd heard people mention the resemblance many times, for her whole life really, starting way back in the fashion photography studios when she was a teenager. "Do you even know who she is?" she asked.

Noah nodded. "I looked her up."

"How?" Millie asked, her stoned mind stuck, for some reason, on the time of her youth, the era of the World Book Encyclopedia.

"On my phone. I watched some video clips."

"And? What do you think?"

"I think you're her, and you just haven't told anybody."

Millie smiled. "Noah, she's my mother's age. She's in her eighties."

"Well...God made you in her image, then. He doesn't do anything for no reason."

Millie didn't answer right away, and then she said, "I read somewhere her father was a jew. I don't know if it's true or not."

Noah kissed the nipple that he'd awakened, and then he rested his head on Millie's soft pillowy breasts.

"I've never done this," Millie said. "Just lying around naked with a man, so relaxed."

"Really?"

"Really. This is nice."

The record player was still skipping silently. Millie watched as Noah got up, his body so young and beautiful. His cock was softer but not small, still reddish and sticky from fucking her. He took a sip of warm beer, handed her the bottle, and changed the record, lowering the needle in the groove. Stevie Wonder's funky organ played. Noah stood there for a moment, looking at Millie lying naked on the bed, and his cock grew fully long and started to rise.

—

Two hours later, Millie headed home on wobbly legs. She'd foolishly let the side door to the garage slam on her way out, waking Sabella from a dream-filled slumber. Sabella, wearing just a sexy bra and panties, with a soft-fleece throw wrapped around her, stood at the front window, watching Millie cross the street in the dark in high heels.

Noah watched Millie from his own front window. He stood naked, lit dimly. When Millie looked up at him a stained glass window of God came to mind, high up above a pulpit, illuminated by an evening sun. It was more of a Christian church thing, but she'd seen a few, and with the things Noah had just done to her so fresh in her giddy mind, thinking of him as a god wasn't too far off the mark.

After Millie disappeared into her house, Noah sat on his bed with his camera, reviewing the shots he'd taken. When he'd first pointed the camera at her naked body she protested, giggling, hiding her breasts with her hands, saying they were too big and they looked better with a bra on. Noah disagreed, they both did another bong hit, and Millie started posing, and laughing, and posing some more. Old-fashioned pin-up girl poses at first, and then, as Millie got more comfortable showing off her nudity, they became more x-rated. Noah took hundreds of pictures. Frozen moments that showed Millie's true, undeniable beauty. She loved that he was naked when he photographed her, and she really loved that he got hard when he did it. She blushed and she looked as cute as she did when she was eighteen.

A full compliment of poses were photographed—frontals and rear views, doggy style pussy shots, and lying-on-her-back tit adoration. Millie was embarrassed when the camera closed in on her furry pussy, but Noah loved it. He loved every inch of her.

—

The next day at work he downloaded the files onto his workstation computer. He erased both of the memory cards in the camera before giving it back to Uncle Abel. The professional quality ink jet printers Noah works with render skin tones beautifully, and the temptation to use one to print some images of Millie was too great. He snuck a few into his workflow, and they came out looking beautiful, but one of the printers' ink reservoirs needed a refill. After he'd taken care of it, it was lunchtime, and his weed smoker's brain lost track of things. There was one more image of Millie ready to print, already in the printer-driver's memory buffer. Once the ink was refilled all Noah had to do was open the driver's control panel on his monitor to start the queue again, but he'd forgotten it and walked away, stashing the prints he'd already made in his desk before heading off to the food truck out on the street.

Another employee, a mousy man who dislikes Noah, needed to use the printer. He restarted the queue, the printer started printing, and the stunning image of Millie appeared, in all her naked glory. When Abel returned from a meeting with a client the print was on his desk, with a post-it note blowing the whistle on Noah. Abel didn't need the note to tell him it was Noah's work. He'd met Millie a number of times, at parties mostly, Hanukah gatherings at his sister's and once at a Fourth of July picnic when Millie was wearing a memorably low-cut summer dress. Abel was well aware she was Noah's hot neighbor across the street, and he was less surprised than jealous that she'd found her way into Noah's bed.

The big question in Abel's mind was what to do about the situation. He could confront Noah, or he could keep quiet, keep the print and stay late that night, after everyone leaves, and scour Noah's work station computer to see if there were more. He chose the latter course of action, and late that evening, with no one around, he made a few prints for himself. He downloaded the rest of the image files onto his own computer and put them in the file with Noah's friend Eliana's naked photos.

The next morning he motioned for Noah to come to his office. "I just wanted to say, whenever you want it! The camera! It's fine! Take it every weekend!"

—

Ever since Noah was born, Abel had helped Sabella make decisions regarding the boy's upbringing, as best he could without stepping on Mervin's toes. So of course, when Abel found out Noah was taking naked photos of the married woman across the street, he called Sabella and told her about it. He worried that Noah was going to get into serious trouble, maybe cause a neighborhood scandal. Abel was shocked when he found out Sabella knew about it and didn't seem to mind.

"How can you not care about such a thing?" he said. "She's thirty years older than he is, and she's married!"

"You need to trust me on this, Abe," Sabella said. "It's not something you'll worry about."

"It's not something I'll worry about? I'll worry about what I worry about!"

"Not this, Abe. Not this."

-

Later that afternoon Sabella called Abel on the phone. "Come to my kitchen door at eight o'clock."

"Sabella, that's too risky. We can't. We've got the motel to use, every day if we want to."

"You don't even know what it's about! Just come. I know how you like surprises." Sabella thought about asking him to dress for cocktails, but she knew she didn't have to—he always wore a sport coat and looked well put together.

-

Abel was right on time, eight o'clock sharp. He heard laughter when he walked from his car to Sabella's kitchen door. He knocked and walked into a situation that was completely unexpected—the air thick with marijuana smoke, a big glass bong and an open bottle of brandy on the table, a bag of weed splayed open, seeds and buds scattered on a white kitchen plate. The three partiers were thoroughly high. The initial surprise of it shocked Abel, but not as much as seeing Millie Titchman there, the living breathing woman from the naked pictures that had bedazzled him at work. She looked as shocked as he was, her nice high suddenly twisted by the surprise arrival of a guest who shouldn't know that she's even aware of what marijuana is.

"Millie, you know my handsome brother Abe," Sabella said.

"I do," Millie said. She stood still, though swaying slightly, and she didn't blink once as her eyes scanned him. She was remembering back to Hanukah, and the Fourth of July. Yes, that was it, she thought. The Fourth of July picnic in Sabella's backyard. He had on a pale blue polo shirt that fit him well, not baggy like all the other men seem to wear them. His chest looked strong and his waist looked trim, and his arms filled out the sleeves. I remember him sneaking glances at my breasts, and how good it made me feel. Millie remembered it all in the flash of a second. "It's nice to see you, Abe," she said.

Abe's own flashing second of remembrance was all about the pictures. The doggy style ass shots and the tit shots and all the others, all two hundred of them that Noah had taken. "It's...nice to see you, too, Millie," he said. He turned to his sister, with a confused look in his eyes. "But...what goes on here, Sabella? I'm...surprised...at all this."

"The marijuana, you mean? You've seen the news, Abe. It'll be legal soon. We're just...getting a head start, to see if we like it. Noah's so generous, and..." Sabella giggled, "...we like it...a lot!"

She laughed and Millie giggled, nearly spitting as she tried to hold in a laugh of her own. Noah's high had crashed a bit when Abe walked in, with a strong feeling of being busted by his father, even though he was still processing the whole father thing. His flashing second wasn't remembrance, it was a vision of a possible future, a vision of Abel smashing the glass bong in the sink, the sparkling shards of glass scattering to the floor, Sabella on hands and knees cleaning it up, the way a good mother does. I'd love to see that, Noah thought, her on hands and knees in that tight, sexy little cocktail dress. I'll bet her ass would look awesome that way.

"You'll try it Abel, won't you?" Sabella said.

"I'm driving, Sabella. Even if I wanted to, this is not the time."

"So you'll stay a while! We'll have fun! There's no hurry! We're mishpokha, Abe. Family. Millie is, too. We'll eat some, we'll drink some, we'll smoke some... You'll see."

Abel hated kvetchers, and didn't want to be one, especially in front of Millie, so he shut his mouth and stopped complaining. Truthfully, he didn't want to leave, if only because he wanted to gaze upon Millie for at least a few minutes more. He'd never seen her all done up, with her hair softly perfect, her makeup softly glowing, and her breasts softly jiggling under—and partially out of—her stunning little yellow cocktail dress. She and Sabella had both gone all-out for the evening, fashion wise, with stockings and high heels, necklaces and earrings. Millie's lipstick was particularly eye catching—the richest deep red, painted to perfect points at the extraordinary corners of her always smiling mouth.

"You've seen a beautiful woman before, haven't you Abe?" Sabella said, smirking at her obviously smitten brother.

Abel blushed, a rare sight that few have ever seen.

Millie felt herself swaying even though it was hardly noticeable to the others. She backed up against the counter and leaned against it, feeling a bit week in the knees from handsome Abel's blushing ogling. She loved it, of course, just as she loved being looked at by just about any man. There was something about Abel, though, that struck her a bit more powerfully. She thought maybe it was the twofer, Abel and Noah, both of them over six feet tall, both of them muscular and well built, both of them with those lovely dark eyes.

Abel took the glass of brandy that Sabella handed him, but, when the time came, he was slower to take the bong. He reached for it only after watching Sabella and Millie each take a hit, and seeing their mellow and beautiful reactions to the smoke that had left their lungs.

"Will I regret this?" he asked Sabella, just before inhaling.

"You absolutely will not," Sabella said, smiling, with twinkling mischief in her beautifully made-up eyes.

Just five minutes later, the little party of four was nicely stoned. Abel was astonished by the symmetry and delicacy of almost everything he looked at. The knobs and drawer pulls in Sabella's kitchen were particularly attractive to him. He and Millie discussed them, running their fingers over them reverently, praising the designer's intents and the manufacturer's machine work.

Abel's third hit off the bong solidified his shit-facedness. That's when Sabella, splendidly shit-faced herself, put her plan into motion. "We'll play truth or dare," she said. "Spin the bottle. Like when we were kids."

"It's suddenly game night," Abel said. He shrugged his shoulders and reached for his brandy, downing a much too big gulp.

Sabella cleared off the kitchen table and plopped down one of Noah's empty beer bottles, nicely rinsed out, of course. Everyone sat down and an entrancing silence fell upon the room. "Here we go," Sabella said, with a look on her face like she meant it.

She spun the bottle and it pointed at Millie. "Truth or dare, Millie."

"Dare," Millie said, worried that 'truth' might be a question about Noah.

"I dare you to take off your dress," Sabella said, knowing she probably would.

"Bella!" Abel said, looking at her wide eyed. He said no more, and Sabella was silent, looking at her friend Millie.

Millie stood and took off her dress. Noah and Abel were both astonished when they saw what was underneath—the mythical violet purple bra, and matching violet purple panties! Noah also took note of the lack of pubic hair around the perimeter of the pretty little panties, where some had been the last time he'd seen her. Millie hooked her thumbs under the sides of her panties, pulling them up higher on her hips, and then she adjusted her sheer, nude-colored thigh-high stockings, one at a time, placing the tops of them just so around her lovely thighs. She sat down, as casually as she could, with excitement showing in her stoned-looking eyes.

The next spin pointed at Sabella. She asked for a dare, and Millie said, "I dare you to take off your dress," knowing she wouldn't, not with Noah and Abel there.

"Well this is moving quickly," Sabella said. Up she stood, stripping down to brand new lingerie—a black bra and panties, the bra with lacy ruffles at its top edges and the panties with the same ruffles where the legs meet the crotch. She adjusted the sides of the low-cut panties, pulling them high, giving the overall effect of a broad smile, making her belly button a happy looking eye.

Both Noah and Abel were stunned. Abel felt like he had no idea what was happening. Sabella's kitchen, her entire world all of a sudden, felt like abstract theater, where nothing is what it seems. He wondered if marijuana didn't agree with him, if maybe he'd end up at Bellevue, in the psych ward for druggies. But doctor, my sister made me take it! I just don't do those kinds of things!

Abel's world stopped when the bottle pointed it him. "Truth or dare?" Noah asked.

"Truth," Abel said, hoping he could keep his clothes on.

Noah asked, "What do you think of Jeanie, at work."

"What do I think of her? I think I wish she'd button her shirts a little higher! So I don't get arrested for lechery someday!"

Noah laughed.

"Abel Lieberman, are you a tit man?" Sabella asked, smiling.

"You know I am!" Abe said. The weed had let the words escape, and he blushed again.

Abe spun the bottle. It pointed at Millie. "Truth or dare?" he said.

Excitement coursed through her, causing her bosom to heave in the sexy violet purple bra. She had a strong feeling a tit man would ask for the obvious dare, so she asked for a truth question. Abe looked into her beautiful eyes and was flummoxed. Everything about her had him tongue-tied.

"Ask her if she's ever kissed a girl," Sabella said.

"You know I have!" Millie said, giggling.

Abe watched, bewildered, as the two beautiful women merged, Sabella on Millie's lap, kissing her deeply.

"Sabella!" Abe said. "You two? How long?"

Sabella smiled, with her arm around Millie's shoulder. "Since we both found out about our husband's 'travel girls.' I mean, who could resist her, right? It's just once in a while, when we can't stand it any longer. We've always been worried about the neighbors talking."

Noah was surprised, too, but in a laid-back way. His mother's sexuality continued to blossom, right before his eyes, like a flower with many branches. He'd gotten so used to it, in a delightfully stoned kind of way, that it didn't even shock him when, just few spins-of-the-bottle later, Sabella said to Abe, "I dare you to show us your shvantz."

Abe wasn't as laid back about it. "Bella! Noah's with us!" he said.

"I'm guessing he's got one, too," Sabella said, smirking. "Go ahead Abe. Millie's curious. She's wondering if a big strong man like you has a schlong to match."

"But she's married!"

"She is," Sabella said, "and he's fucking an eighteen-year-old Botswanan girl this very minute. He'll give her a small diamond in two weeks when he leaves her, plus her paycheck of course, and then he'll find another girl on his next trip. We're just hoping for a little equality here. And for goodness sakes Abe, look at her! Look at that look in her eyes! Show us your shvantz or we'll rip your clothes off of you ourselves!"

Millie giggled and it turned into weed-fueled laughter that jiggled her magnificent tits. It caused Abe to laugh even though he hadn't planned on it, and Sabella laughed, too. Abe stood, still giggling, still confused by that feeling of unreality. Then he dropped his pants. When his mostly hard cock sprung out—a true schlong, and a near twin to Noah's—he laughed even harder, looking down at it, trying and failing to make sense out of how high he was and how amazing and hillarious it felt to be standing there that way.Millie's laugh caught in her throat the second the big cock came out, and she nearly choked on her gasp. She felt a rush in her bloodstream and on her tingly skin, knowing, suddenly, that sex with that handsome man was inevitable, and very, very welcome. But there was more to the gasp than that. The good smoke and the liquor had conspired to make her forget that Abel was Sabella's brother, a fact that she'd known for ten years, but just a moment after the unveiling of Abe's big shvantz, that juicy tidbit of memory hit Millie right in the noggin again. Brother and sister! Good Lord in heaven!

Noah was sitting quietly, outside of the laser-focused gazes the others had on each other, for the moment at least. He was astonished by his mother's voracity. It was like the motel all over again, only this time, instead of drawing him in, it was his biological father and the sex-starved neighbor who were getting stuck in the web Sabella was spinning. Noah's shit-faced mind couldn't quite believe what was happening. Was it going to be a fourway orgy? With his true father, his loving mother, and Mrs. Tits? Was something like that even possible?

"Now that's a schlong," Sabella said, gazing at Abel's fully erect cock as it bounced with his giggly laughter. "Am I right Millie? You told me Saul's is a little thing, didn't you."

"I did," Millie said.

"You'd better sit, Abe, before Millie's eyes pop out of her head."

Noah passed the bong around again and everyone took another turn with it, even Abel, who told of his skepticism of the drug, but said, "I'm still curious, though," and took a massive lungs-full hit.

With a boost from the rushing high, the bottle spinning continued, with a thrilling, rapid-fire removal of clothing. Everyone wondered if what was about to happen was really about to happen. Millie's and Sabella's tits were bare, Noah's big cock was out, hard and proud just like Abe's, and everyone sported goosebumps on their arms and other places. Millie's goosebumpy 38 DDDs and wildly aroused nipples were especially wonderful. She was the last one to strip fully bare, standing when she removed her violet purple panties, giggling as she turned to show herself off, giving a full, pirouetting turn. "I've never been so intoxicated in my life," she said, standing there with a look of thrilled wonderment on her pretty face.

"Still the most beautiful woman in the neighborhood," Sabella said. "If those trash boys could see you now..."

Millie's big smile lit up the room. "Oh! Now there's a thought!"

"Trash boys?" Abe asked.

"Millie likes to say hi to them when they come by in their truck. There's at least a few of them she'd like to fuck."

Millie giggled, almost uncontrollably. "It's true," she said, still standing, showing all of herself.

"How about my brother," Sabella said. "Would you like to fuck him?"

Everyone heard all the air go out of Millie's lungs, in a rush, through her open mouth. She was as still as she could be, but her head nodded slightly, seemingly without any input from her shit-faced brain.

"You'll do it on my rug, in the living room," Sabella said, sounding for all the world like a weaver of spells, a makhasheyfe, an old-country witch.

Once the idea was there, swirling in Millie's mind, there was nothing else. Abe was sitting at the table, so she couldn't see it, but the memory of his big, bouncing cock was fresh in her mind, and she wanted it. She wanted it as badly as she wanted Noah again, and the remarkable similarity between uncle and nephew's bodies hadn't gone unnoticed. She wanted them both, and the flashes of possibility in her beautifully clouded mind were thrilling. The fantasy that she'd long dreamed of—a threeway with two men—suddenly seemed like a very real possibility.

With her mind still spinning, her feet took her there, to the living room rug, just through the doorway. It felt plush on her bare feet and her toes, remarkably so, like walking in a box of warm cotton balls. She looked over her shoulder and Abe was there, following, his big cock pointing forward, leading him to her.

Abe was acting without thinking much, the same as Millie was. His male instincts were fully alive, amplified as if by magic, carrying him to the cotton ball softness where Millie stood. It was there that his nakidity finally hit him, with tingles rising from the soles of his bare feet all the way to his scalp. He was so high from Noah's strong weed that absolutely nothing felt real anymore. Not Millie's hand, pulling him down with her; not Millie's slender fingers, wrapping around his throbbingly hard cock; not Millie's lips, softly but passionately kissing his mouth, the way an angel might do. It didn't feel real when she pushed him down on his back, floating on the cotton ball cloud, and it didn't feel real when Millie's hot, wet pussy engulfed his preternaturally hard cock, inch by glorious inch.

"Go to her," Sabella said to Noah. "Both of you is what she really wants."

Noah was there, a few moments later, almost floating into place, silently, his big cock hard and ready, melting into Millie's mouth. She was a cowgirl on Abe's saddle, and Abe's hands were on her tits, the tits that so many men dreamed of. Noah stood beside her, with his toes in the softness of the rug his mother was so particular about, and he moaned. He'd already grown to love Millie's mouth, after just one night with her.

Sabella was the final piece of the puzzle. She knew she was a difficult fitting piece, one that the other pieces—Abe and Millie at least—might be put off by. It was incest at it's most blatant, an orgy with your brother and your son, but it had to be done. The ice had to be broken. She'd put the game together, designed the whole damn puzzle herself, so it was now or never. The moment was upon her.

Sabella arrived at the warmly moaning scene without much notice, and then she did what needed to be done—she straddled her brother Abe's head, on her knees. She lowered her pussy to his hungry mouth, she leaned forward to help Millie with Noah's cock, and it was done. Millie's eyes showed surprise for a brief few seconds, but then the moaning rose in volume, everyone's eyes looked dreamy again, and four naked humans let themselves go. It wasn't difficult. All of their thrilled, buzzing minds wanted to go free, to think the things that they were thinking, and do the things that they were doing. It was such a powerful feeling that Noah lost his seed, shooting two rifle-like shots across the room before Millie devoured the rest, guzzling and swallowing as she fucked the big cock beneath her. Sabella took Noah's cock from her when it was mostly spent but still powerfully hard, it's cum just dribbling from it's oversized tip. She licked it and mouthed it, milking the last drops, with Noah moaning above her, towering and strong, the handsomest son she could imagine.

The sight of it and the sound of it triggered Millie's orgasm, one that had built with a toe-curling rise, ascending bit by bit ever since she'd taken off her dress. She wasn't yet used to the wonder of orgasming under the influence of the happy weed, and this time her cumming blossomed into something huge and beautiful, with sighing, laughing exclamations floating from her, decorating the air with quivering delight. She was limp in Sabella's arms when the trembling intensity of it passed, with some of Noah's cum still dripping from her lips.

"You'll drink Abe's cum, too," Sabella said, holding Millie gently, the way a mother would. "That way you'll always carry them with you, in your blood, like family."

Sabella guided Millie off of Abe, but she herself stayed on him, riding his face, her hips gyrating like a gypsy dancer's. She lowered herself down for a sixty-nine, slurping up her brother's pussy-wet cock, tasting Millie on him. Millie was there, ready to share, and the two women took turns with fast-moving handjobs on the big wet cock, stopping every once in a while to mouth it. Millie was on hands and knees, and Noah was hard again, taking his place behind her, slipping his full length inside her, deep in her pussy. Abe was moaning and happily groaning, the swift, squeezing hand jobs taking him to someplace new and extraordinary. His cock suddenly spewed cum like a geyser, and a loud bellow came from his mouth, the manly noise buzzing against Sabella's pussy. His first pulsing squirt flew high up into the room, and then Millie devoured the rest of his cum, guzzling and swallowing, just as she'd done with Noah's eruption.

When Abe could think again he dug into Sabella's pussy with his lips and his teeth and his tongue. He knew his sister's triggers well, and moments later he had her there, flying in a happily stoned orgasm, the kind she craved, and Millie suddenly had one, too, fucked hard from behind by the boy she secretly loved, the boy she'd fucked a thousand times in her dreams.

It didn't slow down from there. The biggest chunks of ice were broken a few minutes later. First, Sabella pushed Noah down and mounted him, a cowgirl fuck on an enthusiastic young bucking bronco that ended with a screaming, tit's bouncing orgasm. And then she was off, on elbows and knees, and Abe, newly hard from Millie's mouth, slipped his cock into the pussy that he knew better that any other. Sabella didn't look at Noah when Abe was fucking her, but she could sense him watching, When Noah started fucking Millie in the same doggy-style fashion, right next to her, Sabella knew all was well—Noah's beautiful cock hadn't deflated from the shock of all the new.

The puzzle pieces all fit together, eased there by Sabella's spell-weaving makhasheyfe ways. She was indeed a shmutsik nafka—a dirty minded slut—but she didn't mind and neither did her son, or her brother, or her best friend. There was schtupping to be done, and two big, hard schlongs that weren't ready to quit. It's a tangled web of family, and Sabella is the spider at it center. She's so unashamedly meshuganah, one almost has to wish her mozel tov!