BECOMING THE ALPHA MALE

As Dad prattled on I added an item to the list of things I'd never do when I grew up: tell war stories. You know, war stories. When some adult male (is it always men?) recounts a life event demonstrating that he is, or was, heroic, brilliant, wise, and/or brave. One of these stories might be interesting the first or second time told, but they are never told once or twice. They are endlessly repeated. The only reason I figured anyone listens is to gain an audience for his story. There's an implicit bargain: I will pretend to be entertained by your story for the twentieth time if you pretend to like mine the nineteenth time you hear it

Still, it's probably not a good sign that Dad had only one: How I Met Your Mom. It went like this. My grandfather, John Nicholas, who at the time owned the first of what was now a chain of car dealerships, threw a promotion: "St. Nick in October." In exchange for his sponsoring an event for a Tulane University sorority, the girls agreed to work the show. Cute college girls sell cars. My mother, Jennifer, had recently pledged the sorority and was, as Dad told it, the cutest girl in the bunch. Grandad, who was quite the lech, spotted her immediately. Dad intervened to protect her. They started dating and soon married. What he did not say but was clear to anyone who could do the math, as had I, was that this particular bun was in the oven at the nuptials.

Dad picked this day to retell the story because he had come upon copies of the company newsletter recounting the promotion along with photographs taken that day. The photographer had certainly noticed Mom. While the newsletter featured a photograph of all the girls, many of the unused photographs featured Mom alone or posing with others. Dad was right: Mom was a knock-out. Her brown hair was cut short. She was wearing brand new tennis shoes, a tee shirt with the dealership's logo, and tan shorts. She had been on the gymnastics team until her pregnancy; she was well-muscled and fit.

It would not be fair to say I dislike Dad. It would be fair to say I did not respect him. Family lore was that Grandad had tried to mold his son into a salesperson, but it didn't take. Dad now worked in the finance department. He was apparently a talented bean-counter and made the company a lot of money, but in a sales-driven organization he would always be considered second tier. Unfortunately years of bullying by his father had reduced Dad to a cipher and Dad had made his bargain: he would take any amount of crap if he could crunch numbers, collect a pay check, come home, overeat, and fall asleep in front of the television. Ambition and strength had deserted him.

Mom, on the other hand, had always been the family personality. However, over the past few years she had slid in Dad's direction. Among the indicia of that change was a gradual weight gain. She was not eighty pounds overweight like Dad, but could lose twenty. Unlike Dad, she was still active in the community, but even that had slowed.

After Dad finished his tale and turned back to the television, I kept looking at the pictures; something about them bothered me. Mom was young and, what the hell, beautiful. She looked squarely at the photographer; she lacked neither intelligence nor confidence. Granddad was not the first older man who had hit on the woman in those pictures; she must have fended off plenty of unwelcome advances. The woman in those pictures did not need Dad's help to deal with a man's unwanted attention.

Mom had seemed annoyed most of the night. She was as bored by the story as I and, I figured out later, was bothered to see so many photographs of her younger fitter self. My border-line ogling of the pictures probably didn't help.

After Dad started snoring, Mom asked, "What do you think, buster?"

"Mom, is there any truth to Dad's bull-shit story?"

Mom looked surprised. "It makes him happy. And watch your language."

A little while later Mom woke Dad and they headed for bed.

The idea of my Mom as a young cutie stayed with me. I fetched a photograph album from the basement. It had pictures from the family's annual beach trip. While the intense musculature of her days as a gymnast was gone, Mom stayed in shape and her hair, make-up, and clothes were stylish. I put the picture album away and fired up the family computer to look at the more recent pictures. These showed a woman who had started to let herself go. Mom was gaining weight and not paying as much attention to her appearance. I shut down the computer and headed upstairs. I was getting in bed when I heard Mom coming up the stairs.

This requires a brief description of the house. We lived in a camel back. A camel back is a long narrow house in which the back but not the front is two stories tall. There are two bedrooms on the second floor, mine and the guest bedroom. The master bedroom is on the first floor at the front of the house. This provided me maximum privacy by isolating me from the rest of the house.

I stuck my head outside the door. Mom was entering the guest room, muttering to herself.

"You okay?"

"Besides being pissed off, hurt, and unable to sleep, peachy."

She must be mad at Dad, who else was around? Since I had long had a certain prurient interest in Dad's faults, I said, "Why don't you lay on your stomach and tell me all about it."

I started kneading her neck and shoulders.

"Mmmmm, feels good."

"You and Dad have a fight?"

"Yeah. After seeing those pictures I took a long look in the mirror. I look at myself every day, but I hadn't accepted how much I've let myself go. When I said that to your father, he said he likes his rolly-polly wife. Then he fell asleep and started his freight-train snoring. I was hurt, couldn't sleep, and all I could hear was him. So I came upstairs. I hope I'm not bothering you."

This was not, in fact, the first time she had retreated to the guest bedroom. Dad's snoring could be deafening.

"It's not a bother at all. Am I working the right spots? Dad's not exactly smooth. What do you see in that guy?"

"Right now I am not sure. Your hands are amazing. Can you do my lower back?"

I sat up for better leverage and started working her lumbar.

"What did you think of the pictures?"

I took my time, wanting her to believe that I was searching for the right words.

"Mom, well, you're, kinda hot."

"You shouldn't talk that way to your mother." And then, after a pause, "You still think I'm kinda hot, even with all this extra weight?"

"Yeah, I do actually. You worried about the weight?"

"I think I could lose twenty pounds."

"I'm not sure of that, I think you look great. But if you're interested, Coach told me he wants me to move to outside linebacker for my senior year. I am under direction to gain twenty-five pounds of muscle. I talked to a personal trainer who has several spots open; some of his clients are leaving for the summer. He and I are going to start tomorrow. He told me if I know anyone else who is interested I should bring them along. Why don't you join us?"

"Do you want to work out with your mother?"

"It would be perfect. We could make sure the other one wasn't cheating on the diet. On the other hand, if you like being called rolly-polly by Mr. Who-Am-I-to-Point-Fingers, I wouldn't want to deprive you of your fun."

A moment's thought and, "You win. I'll try it."

I finished her back and returned to my bedroom. At 5:15 A.M. my alarm clock blared. I shut it off, hit the shower, dressed, and headed downstairs. I was surprised to see Mom in a bathrobe. She had the coffee going.

"Morning. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"Don't worry. If I going to start getting myself in shape, I need to see what the well-muscled crowd eats for breakfast. No more sticky buns," she gestured down the hall to the master bedroom, "with hubby."

I fished some blueberries from the frig and whipped up protein shakes for two. Mom looked doubtful, but tasted it. "You know, you could come work at the dealership at a less ungodly hour."

"Mom, I like my job and I don't want to end up like him," gesturing to the same door down the hall. Mom raised no objection. Dad must have really pissed her off last night and I was enjoying taking potshots at him. I was gonna ride this one as long as I could.

* * * *

The first few weeks of summer were great. I was working with a crew that installed patios and decks. We started at 6:00 A.M. and worked to 1:00 P.M., calling it a day before the summer heat became oppressive. Unexpectedly, Mom and I got into a regular workout routine. Mom, in fact, loved the program. She and I spent two hours each afternoon at the gym. At night and on weekends we often returned for classes. Mom even took up jogging. While Mom and I were committed to eating healthy, Dad stuck to his old ways, gobbling down junk food and pre-packaged foods in front of the television.

Mom beat her weight and BMI goals each week and, in response, her confidence was growing. Her relationship with Dad remained frosty. It was as if, having gotten herself back in shape, she lost respect for him. Her communications with him became increasingly curt and Dad's immobile ways became an inside joke. While she would not let me insult him to his face, she no longer stood up for him when I mocked him behind his back.

* * * *

A few weeks into the summer Patricia Miley called. She and I had dated when I was a high school sophomore and she a senior. We had fooled around a lot but had never gone all the way. She went to college in Massachusetts where, based on her intermittent messages, she had discovered her wild side. She was coming home for two weeks. She asked if I was free next Saturday, my eighteenth birthday, and, if so, could I pick her up at the airport and spend the night celebrating in the city.

Over the past few weeks Mom had essentially relocated to the guest bedroom; Dad's snoring was incompatible with a 5:15 A.M. wake up. While giving Mom a back rub that evening I told her that Patricia was coming into town on my birthday and that I wanted to spend the night with her in the city.

To my surprise, she offered no objection. "I always liked her, that would be great. I'd like to see how college has changed her. Make sure I'm around when you ask Dad."

That night I asked Dad if I could spend my birthday night out. Dad started to say no, but Mom interrupted.

"Don't be silly. You only turn 18 once; it's a special night and he should get to spend it the way he wants. Look at the kid dear, he's built like a brick shithouse. I think he can protect himself."

Dad looked a little stunned by Mom's language. Mom went on.

"Of course you can Randy. In fact, why don't you take your father's Mercedes, that should knock her socks off."

She turned to Dad and in a mocking tone said, "If that's okay with you dear?"

Dad started to respond, "But dear."

Mom turned to me, "You father and I need to have a private conversation. Why don't you take a walk around the block."

When I returned Dad said it was great that Patricia was coming for a visit and that he wanted me to take his car. He also handed me $200.00 with instructions, "To show the lady a good time." Mom must have really lit into him.

* * * *

I met Patricia at the airport on Saturday. She was prettier than I remembered. If not for her height, she was about five feet two inches tall, she could have been a model. She was slender and small breasted. He long straight brown hair reached below her shoulder blades. She had green eyes and wore granny glasses, effecting a certain hippie look. Her facial features were cute and, well, border-line perfect. She was, as always, dressed plainly but stylishly: jeans, a tee shirt with "Miss Me" printed on it, and sandals.

I answered the question on her tee shirt. "I certainly did. You're better looking then I remember, and what I remember was damn nice."

"Thanks stud. You're looking mighty fine yourself." She ran a hand across my chest. "You've been working out, I believe."

After I loaded her luggage, we headed for a house in Metairie, a suburb of the city. It was owned by friends of her parents. They were on vacation and had said she could use it while she was in town or needed a place close to the city. I filled her in on my life. Her year has been a bit more eventful than mine.

"I pledged a sorority when I got to campus. It looked like I was in, but then I found out that the initiation required me to sleep with a football, basketball, or soccer player. The pledge chose the sport; the sorority chose the athlete.

"I thought about how much you and I had fooled around in my senior year, but I never let you go all the way. Now I wish I had; I didn't want the entire sorority to know I was a virgin. I thought about asking you to fly to Boston, but that didn't seem practical. I thought about hitting the bars and screwing the first guy that looked good, but that seemed a bit trashy. Then I thought about my math class. It was in one of those big lecture halls with hundreds of students. Students were assigned to a grad student, who was there to answer questions. My grad student was named Sarah. I liked her; she was funny and down to earth. She was also pretty butchy and I've always been kind of curious.

"I went to see her and explained my problem. She invited me back to her place and, with the help of a strap-on dildo, I lost my virginity. We spent most of the next week together and she gave me an in-depth course on most everything she knew about sex. She prefers women, but has had her share of guys. At week's end I joined my football player – you know I have a special weakness for those guys – in bed. Let's just say no one would have guessed my hymen had been intact eight days before.

"She and I have been going at it ever since, but neither wants anything exclusive. I really like that football player and I am one of his regular lovers. I've been in threesomes, foursomes, and general orgies. I have had cocks in my cunt, my ass, between my tits, and down my throat. I've tied up and spanked people and been tied up and spanked. I fucking love sex. My only regret was that I didn't devote my entire senior year to fucking your brains out."

We had arrived at the house. After I unloaded the luggage she said, "So, for your birthday I can take you out on the town and spend some money on you or we could skip the preliminaries and start screwing now."

My hardening cock provided all the answer she needed. She undid my pants, pulled out my erection, and started to frig my dick. I came almost immediately, spraying my cum on her face. I was mortified. She smiled, used a finger to transfer a dollop from her cheek to her mouth, and said, "It appears we are going to need to practice, a lot." With that she took me in her mouth, throughly wetting my meat and reigniting my erection. She took off her clothes and, well, that gentle reader is how I lost my virginity.

We screwed most of the night. Since she didn't need to be home the next day until 2:00, we also screwed most of the next morning. I dropped her off and got home about 2:15. Mom was dressing for the gym. She started to say something and stopped.

"I hope you two are using protection."

"I don't know what you mean," was my lame reply.

"Good boy, a gentleman never tells, but that shit-eating grin on your face can mean only one thing. You up for the gym?"

"Yeah, let me change."

* * * *

Patricia and I got into a regular schedule. Patricia's family was gone during the day, her Mom got home about 3:00 P.M. That meant that I could get to her house after work, get in two hours of bedroom time, and still maintain my work-out schedule. I offered to spend less time in the gym, but her reply, as she stroked my thigh, was that she wanted every little muscle in prime shape.

How we picked a site for the evening rendezvous is more interesting. Mom and I were returning home from a steps class when I told her that in light of Patricia's short visit, I would be spending evenings with her. Mom's grin told me that she knew what that meant.

"I'll miss my work-out buddy, but there are some evening core and aerobic classes I'm interested in. I'll sign up for those. Do you two have a place to be alone at night?"

Actually, no. There were some high school make-out places around town, but I felt Patricia deserved classier treatment than that. I didn't have a solution.

"No."

"The bedroom in the pool house is available. You can come in through the back gate, your Dad will never notice. We'll have to get rid of your curfew. I'll inform your father."

* * * *

As Mom placed his meal before Dad that evening she said., "Your son and I had a discussion about his curfew today. We decided to get rid of it; he can come and go as he pleases."

"Don't you think I should be consulted?"

Mom gave him her best exasperated look. "Okay, you're being consulted." Her face confirmed she didn't give a shit what he said.

Dad looked down and fiddled with his food. "If you think it's okay, dear, then of course."

Mom did not let him off the hook. "I didn't say I decided, I said your son and I decided together. Are you going to give us any shit about it?"

Dad never looked up. "No. If the two of you think it best, that's fine by me."

Mom stood up. "Your son has a hot date tonight and I'm returning to the gym for some classes. I don't feel like coming home to a messy kitchen. Do the dishes tonight. And don't do a half-ass job." She headed for the door; she didn't wait for an answer.

* * * *

After Mom left, I met Patricia outside and escorted her to the pool house. By the bed there was a red rose in a small glass vase.

"Nice digs stud."

I decided to take credit.

"You like?"

"I like."

We made love, lay in bed and talked, and made love again. After I walked her back to her car I headed upstairs to thank Mom. She was sleeping, a thin sheet pulled over her. I was struck by her body's transformation. Mom was hot and getting hotter. I leaned over to kiss her t when I noticed a certain scent; she had been masturbating. The bedroom overlooked the pool house. Had she been looking at the pool house, thinking about Patricia and I when she brought herself off? Did all women taste alike? Could I get away with licking her finger to find out?

She was, it seemed, fast asleep. However, when my tongue touched her finger she stirred and in a sleepy voice said, "Randy is that you?"

"Yes, Mom."

"Did you and Patricia have a good time?"

"Yeah, she loved the rose."

"Good. I'm feeling kind of lonely tonight. Would you mind laying down next to your mother and holding her." She said thanks and told me I smelled good. I, of course, smelled like sex.

That day set the pattern for the next two weeks. Up early, work, a couple of hours in bed with Patricia at her house, the gym and dinner with Mom or Patricia, a couple more hours in bed with Patricia at my house, and sleeping next to Mom.

* * * *

Mom's devotion to reshaping her body was unshakeable and I unceasingly supportive. Her new body displayed neither a supermodel's waif-like thinness nor a bodybuilder's sculpted musculature. Instead she was a curvy powerful woman. She let her brown hair grow out and was paying much more attention to her appearance. She became careful about make-up, emphasizing her lovely brown eyes, and wore bright jewelry and flashy sunglasses. She wanted people to notice her. After eight weeks she got on the gym's scale; she had lost seventeen pounds and exceeded her BMI goals. The guys made sure to congratulate her; she flirted with most of them.

Unfortunately, this was also Patricia's last day in town. She called as Mom and I were leaving the gym. Mom suggested she come over for lunch and a swim. When we got home we discovered an empty refrigerator. Mom asked me to run to the market to pick up some steaks and vegetables for the grill. It would give her and Patricia a chance to visit.When I got home I found the two of them in the hot tub with glasses of wine. Mom was wearing a tee shirt and not much else; Patricia was in a bikini. Their laughter filled the courtyard.

"You two having a good time?"

Patricia answered, "Your Mom's a hoot and you weren't exaggerating when you told me how good she looked. Go fire up the grill stud, your Mom and I are having some girl talk."

I set a small table on the patio and when the meal was done called for the ladies. Patricia's wet bikini left little to the imagination; it clung to her beautiful small breasts. Mom's white tee shirt did the same, sticking to her gorgeous new body and accenting her small pert nipples. Her stomach was flat and hard with the hint of a six pack. Her muscular round ass seemed immune to gravity. Her arms, legs, back, and neck showed no hint of the fat that had been so obtrusive just a few weeks ago.

After we finished eating Mom said, "What time are you leaving for the airport?"

"6:30."

"Your Dad will be gone all day and I'll be back at 7:00. Enjoy."

Mom left and Patricia and I headed for the pool house.

* * * *

On the way to the airport Patricia turned the conversation to Mom. "Your Mom looks great and she sure is cool with us."

"Yeah, its kinda weird having a Mom who changes the sheets for my lover."

"Randy, that is one horny woman. She told me about her sex life when she hit college. It was pretty intense. She said her libido has been especially depressed the last four to five years, but its coming back with a roar. She's focused on reaching her weight and BMI goals, but once she does, and assuming she doesn't flat out leave your father, she is going to be ready for a lover, or lovers. They are going to be some lucky dudes. That woman is going to want to fuck and fuck. She already has that look on her face, like she is ready to go all night long."

"Patricia, you're talking about my Mom."

"Don't bullshit me. I saw the way you looked at her when we got out of the hot tub. I don't blame you, if either of my parents looked that good I might not have gone away to college."

We kissed goodbye at the airport and promised to stay in touch.

While I was going to miss twice-daily sex, Patricia had all but suggested an answer. The truth was that I thought Mom was hot and getting hotter. I was also enjoying my time with her. The new Mom, the aggressive tough Mom, was a blast. I loved watching her bully Dad, especially since it was so often to my immediate benefit.

I thought of Patricia's description of Mom's expanding sexual appetite. I imagined Mom's mouth wrapped around my cock. I imagined my hard-bodied Mom bouncing up and down on my cock. I then had another thought, almost equally as strong. No one could miss how this new incarnation Mom dominated Dad. If Mom and I teamed up we could completely marginalize him. There would be no limits on my personal freedom. She not only promised sex; she promised power. Should I make my Mom my lover? Could I make my Mom my lover? The swelling in my pants answered the first question; I started thinking about the latter.

* * * *

When I arrived home the lights were out. When I got upstairs I heard the unmistakable sound of Mom masturbating through the closed door. My cock stiffened. I ducked into the shower, relieved myself, and crawled into bed with Mom. She was sleeping.

* * * *

The next night Dad, Mom, and I were watching television. Mom lay on the couch, her head on my lap. I fiddled with her hair. After Dad headed for bed, Mom said she was going to take a shower and needed thirty minutes to get ready. After five I crept upstairs to confirm my suspicions: "get ready" included masturbating. However, I couldn't get the image of Mom's hand buried in her sex out of my mind and when I went upstairs I sported a full erection. Mom noticed.

"Jesus, son, couldn't you relieve yourself downstairs?"

"With Dad down the hall, don't be gross."

"You should try sleeping with him."

"Okay, you win. Look, I'll go to my room, do it, and come back."

I went to my room to jerk off. While I made no effort to make more noise than usual, I made no effort to keep it quiet. She heard me cum. When I returned to her I found my show had its intended effect.

"Fuck son, are you always this loud? Now I need to do it."

"Go ahead."

"Not with you here. Are you nuts?"

"Don't think so. With all the stuff Patricia and I did we never masturbated for each other. How do you chicks do it?"

"Stop talking like that, I'm your mother."

"I bet I can even help." I started a story.

"Imagine you're at the gym. It's late on a Sunday. There are only a few people there; basically you and a two clumps of guys. Eventually they leave. You are doing bench presses when you notice this buff blond guy. You've noticed him before, he is about twenty-two. He's got a beautiful body, blue eyes, and his dress and manner are smooth.

"He never says much, just comes in and lifts. He is never rude, but is intent on his work-out. He is not there for the social life. You've seen some of the younger girls flirt with him; again he's polite, but clearly uninterested. You've thought he must be getting some good stuff at home."

"Son, stop."

"You like my story? It gets better."

I licked her ear.

"Unfortunately, thinking about him breaks your concentration and you're having trouble with the final repetition, struggling to get the bar back in place. Suddenly it lightens in your hands. He came over to help. He looks into your eyes and then casually scans your body. He shows no embarrassment, he feels entitled to evaluate you. You're flustered, but finally get out a 'thank you.' He takes a moment to respond, 'Glad to help. Can you spot me?' You agree.

"Together you load additional weight and he does his repetitions. You take in his powerful body and note his form is perfect. When he's done he sits up."

Mom's hand was creeping down her body; it was hovering over her sex.

"He says, 'I've noticed you checking me out.' You don't deny it.

"He walks around behind you. His hands trip down the sides of your body. His touch is light, sexy, sensual. You realize that he's going to take you; he is not going to ask. He knows you will let him. He senses its been years since you been fucked by someone who knows how to fuck. Is it the look in your eyes? Is it your scent? Do you give off the pheromones of a bitch dog in heat? Whatever it is, he knows it. He pulls down your shorts, leans you against the bench press, and tells you to spread your legs. You do so."

The sheet over Mom's crotch was rippling up and down. Her hand was working her labia and clitoris

"There is a cruel streak in this young man, however, for he doesn't immediately enter you. Instead he kneels and kisses your ass, ending with a little sharp bites bordering on the painful. His hand finds your sex; a finger sinks into you, coating itself with the evidence of your arousal, and then slides upwards to your clitoris. He finds it swollen, aching with need. Your sharp squeal and wet cunt leaves no doubt as to how much you need him. He stands up and slides his cock across the face of your vagina and the length of your labia. You reach between your legs to grab him and try to stuff him inside you.

"His cock in your hand confirms what you expected, his thing is thick and long."

I stepped outside the story for the moment. "You do like big cocks don't you Mom. Size matters?."

Her body squirming, she answered, "Yes, I like them big," a moment's pause, "or at least I used to."

The sheet was bouncing up and down. She has abandoned any effort to hide the fact that she was masturbating.

"You take a moment to rub your juices into the head of his cock. Then you try to direct him inside you, but he asks, 'Do you want to be fucked?' He wants you to ask and he wants you to be crude. He knows you'll do anything he asks. You offer just a bit of resistance. 'Yes, I want you inside me.'

"'I didn't ask you if you wanted me inside you. I asked you if you wanted to be fucked.'

"You have no choice, the burning need between your legs is in control. 'Yes, I want to be fucked. Fucked hard, fucked raw.' He teases you, 'But I'm a total stranger, you know nothing about me.' You know what he wants to hear. 'Please, please, fuck my horny cunt. That's all I care about, fuck me please.'

"He enters you. The two of you begin. You are not making love. This is nothing gentle between the two of you. This is raw sex between two powerful bodies. He rams you, you slam back. As you look around the gym you can see multiple reflections of the two of you in the mirrors adorning the walls. What you see is two gorgeous hard-bodied people fucking like feral dogs in heat. There is nothing here but crude coarse pleasure.

"You hear a girl and boy's voice. Two high school kids enter. You've seen them around the gym, goofy kids who spend more time making goo-goo eyes at each other and giggling then working out. They are young and in love. They think sex is all sweetness and love. They don't know sex like this. You decide to put on a little show."

Mom was fully absorbed in my story and her cunt. The sheet was buffeted by her hand as she attacked her sex. She was issuing a series of low grunts, "Ummmmm, ummm, ummm."

"You look over your shoulder at the young man fucking you. You say, loud enough to be heard, 'That's the way stud, fuck me hard, fuck me hard, ream out my pussy with your big fat cock.' You want him to play along; you direct his gaze to the two high school kids. He sees them, he understands what you are trying to do, but he doesn't care. There is only one person he cares about, himself. For him, you're just a life support system for a cunt. He's had scores of women before you; he will have scores after you.

"Knowing this, you become even more excited. You realize that your entire being has been reduced to a recipient for a hard cock, and you realize that's exactly what you want. You want the pleasure of being fucked hard by a stranger, you want his rod between your legs. You turned your body into a machine for accepting pleasure, now its time has come. If this young man sees you only as a cunt, then you are a cunt celebrating the hot burning bliss between your legs. You begin to chant, "FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.'"

Mom's head had rolled back on her pillow, mouth ajar. Her tongue flicked out of her mouth and caressed her lips. Her breathing was rough. Drops of sweat appeared on her forehead. Pushing her hips up against the hand that was working her sex, she joined in the chant, "FUCK FUCK FUCK."

It was time to push her over the edge.

"The young man behind you who has been silent for so long issues a series of incoherent noises. He's getting close, which is perfect since you feel your orgasm closing in. You want this stranger's cum deep inside you. You built this new body for your own pleasure. You built this body so you could have men like him. This man is only the first of those you will share it with. There will be many more loads of jism left inside you. He grabs your hips and pulls you to him, screams, and explodes. That is all you need, as waves of pleasure convulse you, undulate through you."

I again stepped out of the story and addressed my mother directly, "Come Mommy, come Mommy, come Mommy."

She did. She cried out in unabashed abandon; her body shook in sensual rhythms. "Oh baby, I'm cumming!"

While she peaked and settled down I took her in my arms and added an epilogue.

"After the two of you came the young man offered you his phone number. You turned him down, it would never be that good with him again. If you want to fuck him, you know where to find him. In the parking lot you see the two teenagers screwing in the back of what must be one of their parent's SUVs. They're going at it hard; they learned something in the gym. Sex can be sweet, but it can also be vicious and hard. You go over and look, without embarrassment. The girl sees you and motions you to join them.

"Next time, we'll find out whether you did."

I started to get out of bed.

"Where are you going Buster?"

I pointed to my underpants, my rock hard penis evident. "This things needs my attention."

"And start this cycle over again Sorry Buster, you're going to bed with blue balls."

I got back in bed. I figured I'd quit while I was ahead.

* * * *

Over breakfast the next morning Mom presented me with my high school year book.

"Who is the sweetest, least savvy, least experienced, cheerleader?"

I pointed out Janice Edmondson, a cute brunette with a winning smile who was as nice and as naive as she could be. She was so innocent that, as pretty as she was, I don't think anyone even tried to get in her pants. It wouldn't be right.

"And the nastiest?"

"Kim Walker." I pointed to a tall thin black girl.

"Who is the faculty member in charge of the cheerleaders?"

I flipped over a few pages and pointed out Kathryn Lichter.

"Tell me about her."

"She teaches English. In her early thirties. As you can see, she has a dark complexion and tightly curled, almost black, hair. She keeps it short, but not too short. She's one not to hit the gym, but she's a regular jogger. She wears expensive clothes and is meticulous in her appearance. Not exactly pretty, but there is something sexy about her. When you're talking to her you get the feeling she is not quite wholly engaged, like a part of her is judging you. She's more cool and detached than peppy, which has always made her involvement with the cheerleaders a bit odd. However, over the last few years the squad's been rated among the best in the state. She must be doing something right. Word is that she is divorcing her musician husband.

"And why do you want to know?" I added.

"You'll find out."

While watching television that night Mom asked me to sit at the end of the couch, legs spread. She sat between them, her rump butting up against me. She started to move her ass, trying to get me aroused. She was successful, I was soon hard. Dad, sitting feet away, seemed oblivious. When the program ended she stood up.

"I'm going to take a shower. Randy, give me about thirty minutes. And that hard tough piece of meet I put the spicy rub on, make sure it stays hard."

I looked over at Dad. His eyes never left the screen. "Yes, Mom."

Thirty minutes later I went upstairs, put my pyjamas on, and headed to the guest bedroom. My erection was evident. Mom held the sheet open and I slid under. Mom handed me my bottle of baby oil.

"This, I believe, is your lubricant of choice. Put some on."

"How did you, oh never mind. It would be less messy if I pulled the sheet back."

"No way Buster."

"Do you and your football buddies have an after-hours way into the gym?"

"Yes," I answered. Copies of the key had been floating around among the athletes for years.

"Close your eyes."

"It's early Sunday morning, about 7:00 A.M. You had trouble sleeping and decide to make a quick run to the gym to pick up something you left behind after Friday's game. You hear a voice in the women's locker room and, curiosity getting the better of you, decide to investigate. You sneak in and see Ms. Lichter. It's bizarre, she appears to be wearing her college cheerleading outfit. She's yelling at someone.

"'Your awful, you want to be team captain? Your lucky to still be on the team. Do it again.'

"You see sweet little Janice, wearing black stiletto heels, thigh high black stockings, a shelf bra, and a belt. Hanging off the belt are two devices, one is in her vagina and the other is in her butt. There is a gym bag on the floor next to her. You see an empty office overlooking the locker room, its windows covered by blinds. From there you can safely spy on Ms. Lichter and Janice. You duck in the office and study the scene. There are metal clips on Janice's nipple. The look on her face is some sort of combination of lust and pain. She looks exhausted.

"Ms. Lichter walks over to her and smacks her breasts. Janice flinches. 'Slut, do a triple cart wheel.' She actually makes it through one, but can't balance herself on the heels and hits the concrete floor hard.

"You look over at Ms. Lichter and notice how aroused she is. Her eyes are sinks of depraved lust and she, almost absent mindedly, fondles her breasts. It strikes you how useful a memorial of this event could be. You start recording it on your Iphone.

"Ms. Lichter walks over to Janice's prone body carrying a remote control. 'The only thing your good for is cumming, isn't it?'

"'Yes, Ma'am.'

"The locker room door opens and Kim walks up to Ms. Lichter. They exchange a long deep kiss. Looking down at Janice, Kim asks, 'How is our slut doing?'

"'A disaster as usual.' She hands Kim what appears to be a controller. 'Do you want to do the honors?' Kim starts to manipulate the box and Janice starts writhing on the floor. The device is some kind of battery-powered sex toy.

"Ms. Lichter looks down, 'Are your pussy and asshole heating up?'

"'Yes Ma'am.'

"For the next several minutes Ms. Lichter watches Janice, who is moaning on the floor. "'Ma'am, may I touch myself,' she asks.

"'Yes, pumpkin.'

"Janice reaches between her legs and rotates the dildo in her pussy. At the same time she is pushing her ass against the floor, jamming whatever is in her ass deeper inside. She starts chanting, 'I love you Ma'am, I love you Ma'am."

I had not started jacking off in earnest yet, but was now.

"'Are you ready, pumpkin.'

"Janice answers, in a strained voice, "Yes Ma'am.'

"Ms. Lichter lifts her cheerleading skirt and straddles Janice. She is wearing nothing underneath and her pussy has been trimmed of all hair. She starts pissing.

"'Time to cum, pumpkin.'

"As she is cascaded by the golden liquid, Janice is struck by an intense long-lasting orgasm, her body writhing on the floor. At the same time you can see her mouth open, trying to gobble down the urine, her tongue sliding across her cheeks and chin searching for drops she might have missed. Despite Janice's desperate efforts most of it gathers in her hair or spills off her tits.

"Kim turns off the remote control and Janice's convulsions finally stop. Breathing heavily, she lies contentedly in a puddle of Ms. Lichter's urine.

"'Pumpkin, my snatch is all messy. Gargle and then clean it off. After that eat Kim.'

"Janice reaches into the gym bag and pulls out a bottle of mouth wash. She came prepared for her own degradation. She gets on her knees and starts licking Ms. Lichter's pussy. After she cleans off all the urine she turns her attention to Kim, who has pulled up her skirt and is like Ms. Lichter, panty-less. As Janice focuses her attention on Kim's crotch, Ms. Lichter says to no one in particular, 'A sex slave is such a wonderful thing.'

"You can't resist the opening. You emerge from the office holding up the recording. 'Three is even better.'

"You look at Kim, who is recoiling, her face a mixture of shock and horror. Janice, in a tribute to those who trained her, continues servicing Kim's cunt. Ms. Lichter never loses her composure. She's been down this road before. She cooly holds your stare and then, her voice still husky and sexy, asks, 'What do you want?'

""Access to you and Kim whenever I want it. You shall also instruct Janice that I am, like you, her master.'

"'How do I know you will keep this a secret?'

"Ms. Lichter thinks about it for a few seconds and replies, 'Done, until at least I can counter-black mail you.'

"'Understood.'

"'I know your one of our students, but I don't know your name.'

"'Randy Nicholas.'

"She turned to Kim. "You'll fuck Randy whenever he wants you to.'

"You expect some resistance, but there is none. Lichter is in full control of her girls. "Yes, Ms. Lichter.' she says."Ms. Lichter then lifts Janice's head up. 'Pumpkin, you know Randy Nicholas here, don't you.'

"'Yes Ma'am.'

"'From now on he is going to be your master, just as I am.'

"'Yes Ma'am.' Her face returns to Kim's crotch.

"You watch for a few moments and then kneel behind Janice. You prepare to enter her from behind. When Janice senses your intent she lifts her ass, offering you her cunt.

"Ms. Lichter looks straight at you. 'You'll find her incredibly responsive and an excellent fuck.'

"You enter Janice is one smooth motion. Her pussy is a velvet vise. She is warm and soft and wet and she responds with enthusiasm, almost gratefully sliding her pussy around your cock. You can feel her body start to hum; it loves you inside. At the same time she is licking the length of Kim's slit, pausing at the top to pay special attention to her clitoris. Kim is starting to buck into Janice's mouth. She is also staring at Janice's ass and your hips, craning to catch a glimpse of your cock violating Janice's most private place."

By hand was flashing up and down my tool.

"Janice inserts one finger in Kim and instantly locates the g-spot. Kim's eyes grow wide as Janice starts to rub it.

"You look over at Ms. Lichter whose mouth is open, her tongue sliding across her lips, staring at the scene before her. You can figure a better use for that tongue. 'Ms. Lichter,' you tell her, 'suck Kim's tits.' She leans to her right and takes Kim's breast into her mouth. Kim had been holding Janice's head tight to her pussy with both hands. Now moaning, 'So good, so good, eat me....,' she shifts one hand to Ms. Lichter's head, holding her face to the breast. Then Kim looks straight at you as her orgasm hits. She lets out a groan that originates deep in her gut, shakes, and starts to slump backwards off the bench until Ms. Lichter steadies her.

"While Kim is squirting and Janice trying to drink it all, in, Janice keeps pushing back against you as you pound her pussy. You are trying not to cum, but don't know how much longer you can last. Janice's entire body is shaking, you can't understand why she hasn't exploded. Ms. Lichter, understanding your dilemma, explains. 'Randy, she requires permission, let her know it's okay.'

"'Cum toy,'" you instruct her, and she does, flopping on the floor before you like a fish out of water.

"You stand up and sit on the bench next to Ms. Lichter, motioning her to the floor. She understands. She takes your erection in her hands and lowers her mouth to it. She focuses on the head of your cock, placing her lips just beyond its head and sucking while swirling her tongue around the crown, occasionally stopping to probe your piss hole, almost as if she wants to see if she can force her tongue inside. You consider jamming it deep into her mouth, but the better part of you knows it's best to reach an accommodation with this woman, not force yourself on her.

"Your level of excitement is already so high that you are soon on the brink of an orgasm. Janice is on her knees, her face inches from the action, watching. She is fascinated. She has never seen her mistress suck a cock before, that has always been her responsibility. You tell Kim to kneel next to Janice. You place your hands on the sides of Ms. Lichter's head, lifting her mouth from your cock and with a sideward glance at Kim and Janice, instruct her to jerk you off. She starts fisting you."

By this point I was nearing my own orgasm. My hand was flying up and down the length of my throughly lubricated dick. I was trying my best to hold back, wanting to come in time with Mom's story. I reached under the sheet with my other hand to massage my testicles.

"You look at Kim and Janice. They know what's coming. They want your cum on their faces. Their blatant need is pushing you over the edge."

I broke in, "Uhhh, unnn, so close Mom, so good, keep going."

"With her free hand Ms. Lichter starts to coddle your balls and you cum, spraying your seed on Kim and Janice. Your cum is on their eyelids, dripping from their noses, sitting on their lips. They lick each other's faces, trying to capture all your cum until Ms. Lichter tells them to stop. She pulls both girls faces to her mouth; she wants her share."

I can wait no longer, "COMMING MOM, FUCK, AHHHHHHH...."

My hand fell limp from my cock while I caught deep mouthfuls of air to fill my heaving chest.

Mom started masturbating. I was certainly going to take advantage of this.

"Are your fingers making you feel good?"

Her voice hurried, she said, "Yes, please don't ask me to stop."

"Don't worry Mom, I won't. I want you to imagine you come home one day. You were supposed to be in a hundred mile bicycle fund-raiser, but it was canceled at the last second. Let's say, bad weather. The house appears empty but there are glasses on tables and signs people have been there. You yell out and hear a reply in an unfamiliar voice from the master bedroom. A year ago you might have fled the house, but this is the new you: powerful, aggressive and self-confident. You walk into the bedroom and see Janice tied spreadeagled, face-up, naked on the bed.

"'Who might you be?' you ask.

"'Janice Edmonton.'

"'And Janice Edmonton, why are you tied to the bed?"

"'Because I am a sex-toy, a fuck-toy.'

"'Whose fuck-toy are you?'

"'My mistress and master.'

"'And their name are?'

"'I'm not allowed to say.'

"'Have you been fucking on this bed?'

"'Yes, I've been fucking and sucking.'

"'Where are the people you've been fucking and sucking with?'

"'They left about an hour ago. They didn't tell me where they were going. They said they would be,' she looks at the clock on the table next to the bed, 'back in about two hours.'

"'Do they do this to you often?'

"'Yes, they know how horny I get when they tie me up and leave. They like it when I get all worked up.'

"'Are you horny now?'

"You didn't really need to ask the question. A glance at her swollen labia, erect nipples, and damp vagina provide the answer. Looking at this beautiful young girl tied to your bed, her sexual depravity magnified by the innocence and sweetness of her manner, is turning you on.

"'I'm very horny.'

"You start to remove your clothes. The girl's eyes study your body, lingering hungrily on your sexy powerful body. She absent-mindedly licks her lips and you can see the flow from her pussy increasing.

Mom was lying next me. I could see the motion of her hand rapidly moving against her sex. buffeting the blanket covering her body.

I said, "Do you like my nighty-night story, Mom? Do you want me to continue?"

"Yes, you bastard."

"You drop your clothes to the floor. Janice looks at you. 'Are you Randy's Mommy?'

"'Yes.'

"'He told us you were hot and sexy. He was right. I love what you've done to your pussy.'

I interrupted the story for a second. "I guess I forget to mention that you trimmed your pubic hair into a neat rectangle.

Back to the story: "You walk over to the bed and, toying with her nipples, ask, 'Fuck toy Janice, what are your instructions today? Who are you supposed to fuck and suck with?'

"'Whoever comes over.'

"'That would include me then, wouldn't it.'

"'Yes Randy's Mommy.'

"You climb on the bed and straddle Janie's face, facing her feet, and lower your sex. She blows a stream of air against you, sending shivers up your back. You stop, deciding to savor this treatment. When you feel your juice dipping onto her face, you drop down again to smother her with your sex. As you do so you feel her shift. She starts nibbling your butt. Janice is a well-trained sex toy. She must have leaned her head way back, so you rock slightly forward to give her easier access. Her tongue starts rimming your asshole. She tries to force it inside, but the angle is wrong and she cannot do so. You lean a little further back and are rewarded with her tongue forcing itself into your butt.

"After taking the time to enjoy what she is doing, you center your sex above her face. She doesn't immediately focus on your vagina or clitoris, but instead licks along the length of your labia, skipping your clitoris, to pay attention to the sensitive area above it. You are squirming and moaning. You want more and you want it now.

"You set your vagina directly on her mouth. 'Tongue fuck me.'

"Janice does as she is told. As she alternates among pistoning her tongue inside you, exploring your snatch's interior, and licking the face of your vagina, you marvel at her endurance. She goes on and on; any man would have by now been whining about his tongue being worn out, but Janice keeps going, hungrily exploring your cunt. Whoever trained this little bitch has done a marvelous job. You decide to play with her.

"You lift yourself up. You hear Janice moan. You look at the mirror and see her straining her neck, her tongue fully extended, trying to reach you. You look at her cunt. It's inflamed and coated with a lush flow of her juices.

"You consider torturing her longer, but your need to have your pussy eaten is stronger. This time you sit hard on her face. You know she must have trouble breathing, which turns you on. You wonder if you could actually smother her with your pussy. But her tongue and lips are frantically pleasuring your sex. If you did that she couldn't finish the job, which is what you really need."

By this time Mom was approaching her own orgasm. Her head had rolled back on her pillow, her mouth partially open, her tongue moving across her lips, her eyes unfocussed and eyelids droopy. In contrast, her hands were moving quickly under the sheet accompanied by a series of low moans, "Ahh,... ahh, ... ahh,... ahh...."

I stepped out of the story for a moment to involve Mom directly in it.

"Mom, are you ready for Janice to lick your clittie."

"YES!"

"You decide not to smother Janice. You may even want to talk to her owners about borrowing her. Instead you repeatedly slide your vagina, labia, and clit hard across her face, basking in the pressure of her flattened nose and still active mouth and tongue on your sex. Finally you lift slightly and Janice, sensing your need, focuses on your clitoris, sucking it into her mouth while lapping it with tongue, greedily bathing it in her juicy mouth. You look in the bedroom mirror. You have never seen anything so erotic in your life; your perfect new body, which you have honed to perfection, straddling a sweet high school girl, tied to the bed, eating your pussy. Waves of pleasure stream through your body. You are fucking majestic, a Valkyrie, a sexual predator....

Mom's hips jerked up in the air as she exploded next to me, her head jerked, her voice strained. "Goddamn, coming, fuck, shitttttt....''

I held her as she came, relaxed, and gradually returned to the normal. Then I started kissing her while running my hands over her body, touching her sensuously but avoiding her breasts and privates. Our lips played against each other, then I started caressing hers with my tongue. She responded. Finally, I tried to slip my tongue into her mouth, but she wouldn't let me. I broke the kiss.

She put her head on my shoulder while wrapping her arm across my chest. "I'm not sure I'm ready for that yet."

We lay together awhile longer when Mom asked, "Are you comfortable with what is happening with us?"

I took a second. I needed to treat this seriously. I also had to re-frame the inquiry, make it about her and not about us.

I kissed the top of her head. "Yes, I do. I like the smart, sexy, strong woman in bed with me. I've loved watching you over the last months, seeing you take control of your life and body. You're the most exciting woman I know. But the real question is not whether I'm happy with the changes, it's whether you are. I love my new Mom, this powerful assertive Mom. How do you feel about her?"

"Wonderful. It's as if I'm being reborn."

"Then let that woman do what feels right to her. Make your own rules."

At work the next day the boss said his wife's mother had taken ill and they were leaving town that night. He'd be back at the and of next week. Until then, we were off.

When I got home I suggested to Mom that we take advantage of the opportunity and see if we could use Grandad's townhouse at the beach. She said things at work were slow. She didn't expect a problem if she asked for a few days off.

She was also thinking along the same lines I was. "What if your Dad wants to go?"

"The annual convention with the suppliers is the week after next. I bet Grandad's got him working late every day preparing. Why don't you call Grandad to see if we can use the townhouse?"

"Not so fast Buster. If you're going to be the family member to stand up to Grandad, you can't have me asking favors for you. You'll have to talk to him yourself."

That evening I went to Grandad's and asked about the townhouse. He simply handed me the keys. "Your Mom looks great. I haven't seen her this happy in years. You guys have fun." He added, almost wistfully, "Your Mom deserves better than she's gotten."

I broached the subject of Dad. "I also figured that with the convention coming, you'll need Dad to stay here."

I had tried to pass this off as a casual inquiry, but he thought about it, rolling it around in his head. Finally he said, "You're right. Tell your Dad he's staying here." Grandad and I talked for several more hours. I actually enjoyed myself. By the time I got home the house was dark.

The next morning I gave Mom the good news. We decided to hit the gym, I'd let Dad know when we got back, and leave. At the gym Mom got more good news; she was within one and one-half pounds of her target weight. When we got home I sat down with Dad.

"Morning champ. Why aren't you at work?"

"The boss had a family emergency and had to leave town. He gave us a few days off. Mom and I decided to take advantage of it. I spent the evening with Grandad last night, we had a few beers. He's going to let Mom and I use the townhouse for a few days. He wants you to stay here and get ready for the convention."

"Why didn't he tell me himself?"

"Don't know, he asked me to. If it's a problem you'll have to take it up with him."

I could see Dad simmer. What was it? That I was chumming it up with a man who frightened him, that his son was delivering orders to him, or that any dare to stand up to his father was an assault on his manhood?

When Mom appeared Dad complained about being left out. Mom's retort was instantaneous and sharp. "I've busted my ass to get back in shape. I don't need your permission to go to the beach to show off the new bod for a few days with the man who, unlike you, has done so much to bring it about."

She approached me, well into my personal space, and ran a hand across my chest. "You can be confident this stud will take very good care of me."

I didn't expect Mom to be this physical or flirtatious. She was taunting Dad. Well, why not go with the flow. I moved behind Mom and raised her arms as if she was lifting weights, bumping her butt with my considerable erection. "With these looks you can see why she needs protection, but I suspect she can protect herself." I wrapped my arms around her torso. "She does look great, doesn't she Dad?"

Dad looked at me, trying to find the right words, and finally settled on, "Yeah, your Mom's very pretty."

"Oh, c'mon Dad, you can do better than that. How about, sexy as hell."

Dad looked at Mom, hoping she would correct me. When nothing happened, he said, "I guess I've got to get to work. You two have fun." He shuffled out.

Mom turned towards me, pointing at my penis. "You got control of that thing?"

"Not when hot women are rubbing my chest."

"Well, I had told myself I wouldn't buy new clothes until I hit the target, but if I am going to go to the beach to show off I'll need a few items. I also texted my hair stylist, I need a fresh haircut. I should be back in about three hours to pack. Get ready to go."

I took about ten minutes to pack and called my friend Jim to see if he wanted to shoot some hoops. Mom and I headed out the door at the same time. I asked her to text me when she got back.

"You don't think I can get back in three hours?'

"Uh, no."

"We'll see."

I was right, I heard from her six hours later. However, the wait was worth it. She looked great. Her hair was cut so that it fell a few inches below her shoulders. It had an unkempt, wild look. She was wearing tight jeans and a tank top without a bra. After an hour of packing she was ready to go.

We got to the beach about six. After we unloaded the car Mom suggested we go for a run. She disappeared into the bedroom and returned, dressed in some of the new wardrobe: an aqua sports bra and pair of tiny red shorts. She looked good.

We did six miles. When we returned Mom asked me to start preparing dinner while she showered. I had just finished chopping up the fruit and vegetables when she re-emerged. She was wearing no make-up and combing her hair back. For clothes she had on one of my tee shirts and, from the way it clung to her damp body, nothing else. The tee shirt hung half-way to her knees.

"Your turn, Buster. And be quick about it."

When I got out of the shower I put on shorts only. Two could play this no underwear game. When I got to the kitchen I could see the fixings for salad dressing but no Mom.

"Out here, on the porch."

Mom was sitting in the two person hammock on the private porch overlooking the water. She had a bowl of salad in her hands. The other bowl was on a nearby table. I grabbed the food and joined her on the hammock.

Mom looked at me, her eyes and smile approving. "You've grown into quite the man."

"Thank you. And you are quite the sexy lady."

"Hmmmm, about that, there are a few things I want you to know, things mothers don't usually share with their sons.

"Most of my junior and my senior year in high school I dated Harold. Very sweet, kinda shy, smart, polite. Mothers loved him. He was on the chess team. At the time I had the build you saw in the pictures Dad brought home. I was on the gymnastics team; I was slender, flat-chested, flexible, and strong. Guys on the team hit on me and I knew some of the girls slept with some of the boys, but I was loyal to Harold.

"Harold was inexperienced and not aggressive. The farthest he ever got was second base and I had to plop his hand on my breast to get him there. I was frustrated and I know it sounds hackneyed, but I was determined to lose my virginity on my prom night. I bought the sexiest dress my mother would allow and I did look fine.

"Unfortunately, someone poured alcohol into the punch and Harold, who never drank, was out cold by 10:00 P.M.

"I was not ready to go home. Three of the guys and three of the girls on the gymnastics team had come as a group and I started dancing with them. After awhile the team captain offered to drive me and my slumbering boyfriend home. I knew exactly what that meant. We dropped Harold off at his house and drove to a secluded spot where I did it the first time.

"Turned out I loved sex. I had a few more dates with Harold, but that summer was mostly devoted to getting laid. With my addition the group that had gone to the prom had three guys and four gals and pretty much open rights to each others' bodies. It was a wild summer.

"I expanded my horizons at college. Away from home I found I enjoyed not only fucking, but playing the slut. I liked men's eyes on me. Around the campus I made no effort to hide my body and never played hard to get. I slept with a variety of guys, including a professor. Sometimes I'd dress provocatively, including wearing a pair of falsies, and hit the bars of the upscale hotels looking for attractive businessmen in town with expense accounts. I was also doing it with several members of my gymnastics team. I even tried a sorority mate.

"Then I want to the event at your Grandad's dealership. Your Dad was older than I, had a good job, was unfailingly polite, and at the time was not a bad looking guy. He also had some semblance of a backbone. He asked me out, we fucked – I may have been his first – and I ended up pregnant. He was not my only lover, but he was the only one who asked me to marry him. It was not exactly the life I wanted, but still it looked like a pretty good life and I accepted. Unfortunately, over the years he's lost most of his spirit. I was following right behind him until our sudden turn of events."

By this time we had finished our meals. She took my bowl from me and put it with hers on the table.

We lay down in the hammock. She looked out at the ocean awhile, lost in thought. It was the kind of silence that feels like it has weight. It was also the kind of silence that it is up to the other person to break.

Finally she did. "You need to let me decide how far and how fast. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

I slipped an arm under her head, wrapping it down the side of her body. After awhile Mom laid her leg over mine.

"I like it when you hold me."

We lay like that for what seemed half an hour and then Mom shifted, picking her head up and kissed me, carefully and tentatively She pecked the center of my mouth, then each corner. I kissed her forehead. She gave me as incandescent a smile as I've seen and offered me her lips. I gave her a peck, as she had done with me. This time, however, her lips responded, caressing my own. We spent the next minutes kissing, exploring the contours of each other's lips and mouths. Finally, I felt her mouth open and accept my tongue inside. For awhile I was cautious, simply playing with her tongue.

When we broke the kiss she gave a long contented sigh and snuggled against me, her hand resting on my thigh, "You're a good kisser."

"Hard not to be with you to inspire me."

Again she lifted herself up and turned towards me. Her strong hand was on my chest, moving up and down, rubbing me.

"Randy, I think you're an absolutely beautiful young man."

We started kissing again, at first slowly, but soon we were like two frantic high school students, our lips and tongues searching everywhere, whispering sweet words of affection and low moans of desire, our hands clawing each other, our bodies shaking with need. My dick was throbbing. I was already fucking her in my mind. Then Mom suddenly called a stop to it.

"I think that's enough for tonight."

She lay back down next to me. My fucking cock ached. I decided, barely, not to proclaim the need for another shower so I could jack off. Instead I wrapped my arms around her. Eventually the warm breeze from the ocean and the swaying of the hammock had their effect and we both fell asleep.

About an hour later we were awakened by a car horn in the parking lot. Mom slid off the hammock, grabbed the dirty dishes, and headed for the kitchen. I followed, staring at her ass, imagining leaning her over the kitchen counter, pulling up the tee shirt, and taking her from behind. Instead, I dried the dishes after she washed them. When we were done she stretched and said, "If we are going to hit the gym first thing in the morning, we better get to bed."

"Good, I've been thinking of some new night-time stories."

Mom put her arms around my neck, clasped her arms behind my head, kissed me, and leaned her head back to look me in the eyes.

"I thought we agreed, I would decide how far and how fast."

What I thought was, "Yeah, but I thought that meant tonight." What I said was, "We did."

She kissed me again and patted my erection, twice.

"Tell that bad boy that tonight was like a first date. He's supposed to go to bed frustrated."

She held my hand as we walked down the hall and reached the master bedroom. "Tonight your Mom sleeps in here." She pointed down the hall, "You get one of those."

I closed the door, got into bed, and brought myself off with sweet thoughts of Mom dancing in my head.

* * * *

The next morning I was greeted by my Mom's drill sergeant voice and smiling face. A glance at the clock confirmed what I suspected, it was 6:00 A.M.

"Mom, we're on vacation."

"Time to hit the gym."

When we got to the gym she took my hand in hers as we walked across the parking lot. We spent two hours working out and in a place where no one knew us we took on the roles of boyfriend and girlfriend: taking occasional breaks to check on the other, standing close to and touching each other, making frequent eye contact, laughing and flirting.

When we got back to the townhouse we decided to lay out in the sun on the porch. I donned a pair of swim trunks; she disappeared into the bedroom and emerged about twenty-five minutes later with hair combed, make up applied, hoop earrings, and a string bikini with a thong. She was carrying a small satchel from which she fished sun tan lotion. We covered our fronts, I quickly, she taking her time, particularly enjoying rubbing it into the skin around her breasts and groin, putting on a show for my benefit.

She then lay down. "Do my back."

I straddled Mom's calves, applying the lotion first to her feet and then moving up. "Mmmmmmmmm....," feels good," she said.

By this time I had plenty of experience rubbing her back and legs and knew what she liked. What I was giving her was mostly a massage, but I was getting no complaints. When I got to her upper thighs I attacked them with enough force to ensure she felt the reverberations in her pussy. I was within a finger length of her box. I thought about slipping a finger inside her, but stopped. She exhaled. Was that disappointment?

I liberally squeezed the lotion on to her all but naked ass. I worked it into her firm majestic butt and then down her sides, slipping a finger to apply a final coat along her hips facing the ground. Her breathing was becoming deeper, heavier.

I moved up to her back. The red bikini top was tied in a bow in the back. I untied it.

Her voice, husky, "Make sure you retie it when you're done."

I undid the string, and lay the ends on the ground next to her. I worked her back, neck, and shoulders. She murmured her appreciation. Then I moved to her sides, running my hands along the sides of her breasts. Then I saw it. While the movement was small, almost imperceptible, she was rocking her hips, pressing her pussy against the floor. My hands were within inches of her breasts. Reluctantly, I refrained

I ran a finger down her spine.

"Did I miss a spot?"

"No Buster."

I retied the bikini top and laid down.

"My turn."

She squirted lotion on her hands and did my back and then my feet and calves. Unlike me, she seemed hurried, impatient. It was far from the sensual application I had bestowed on her. I started to wonder if I had done something wrong. However, when she reached my thighs, she slowed. Her hands became insistent; she worked the muscles deeply. I could feel the strength of her hand and arms. Then her hands moved up, into the leg of my swim trunks, onto my ass. She raked ten strong fingers across my ass. My cock was a piece of iron.

Then, "You win. Roll over Buster, let's massage what you really want. Let me see the bad boy you've been torturing me with."

I rolled over and she pulled my swim trunks down.

She took my hard cock in her hands, studying it. "You certainly didn't inherit this slab of meat from your father."

Never taking her hand off my erection, she kissed my mouth, exploring it from my lips to its deepest recesses. I responded, but let her take the lead.

After awhile she lay her head on my shoulder while continuing to play with my hard cock. She wasn't trying to bring me off. She seemed more interested in just exploring, trailing a finger from the head to the testicles to test its length, wrapping her hand around it to determine its girth, squeezing it to see how hard it was, and then taking each testicle in her hand, judging their size and weight. Part of me wanted to beg her to jerk me off, but another part was simply enjoying this slow tentative journey around my penis.

After awhile she turned towards me and got up on elbow, and looked down at me. "God, I love your body." She kissed and licked my belly button, chest, and nipples. When she reached my mouth she re-explored it. Her hand continued to rove, gently, around my chest and cock, acquainting herself with its shaft, head, testicles, and the sensitive skin of my inner thighs.

You can imagine my state of arousal and lack of any objection when she whispered, "Ready to go, Buster?"

"Yes."

She reached into the satchel and retrieved some baby oil. After spreading it on her hand, she firmly grabbed my cock.

"I always liked them big."

She held it right below the head and moved her hand up and down, determining how far she could stretch the skin. Then she started jerking me off, beginning with slow, long strokes, monitoring my reaction as she intensified the process. Her free hand found my testicles. Then she started talking.

"What a nasty little slut am I, frigging my own son's big cock. That's what you want, isn't it, a slut Mommie. I can see the way you look at me, you like this new hard body. Tell me the truth, you want to turn me into your personal slut, your personal whore, don't you Buster. You want me there to fuck whenever you want. You want a live-in always-horny personal slut, don't you?"

Her earlier patient exploration of my shaft already had me at a high state of arousal and her dirty talk was getting to me. A few months back this had been my sweet, rather dull Mom.

"I love your big hard cock. I think about having it in my pussy. Are you ready to fuck your own Mommy. Are you ready to be a motherfucker? Do you imagine your Mom riding this fucking tent pole, is that what you want?"

My cock was getting even harder as more and more blood rushed into it. And then, as my mother continued to taunt me, I felt the cum, which had reached the boiling point in my testicles, start to surge. Mom went on.

"Is this why you worked me so hard this summer? You wanted a hard-bodied Mom you could fuck whenever you wanted? An in-house fuck machine? Someone who wouldn't settle for anyone but a stud like you? Are you sure you're man enough to please me? Are you ready to fuck all day long?"

"FUCK YES," I screamed, spraying cum across my chest.

I lay gasping for air while Mom used a finger to transfer droplets of my jism from my chest to her mouth. "You shoot a bigger load than your Dad. Tastes better too."

After letting me catch my breath, Mom said, "Well, now I know why you've been so supportive this summer. I have your confession."

"You can't be so sure, men will confess to anything while getting a good hand job."

"A good hand job?"

"Okay, a great hand job."

* * * *

We lay outside for an hour, our bodies touching, holding hands. Finally Mom stood and offered her hand to help me up.

"Let's take a shower to wash off this lotion."

We walked to the bathroom. I pulled my trunks off. She stepped out of her bikini bottom and turned her back to me. I untied the top and it fell to the floor. She turned to me.

"So, what do you think?"

I took my time admiring her body. She was curvy and strong. Her ass was amazing, round and firm and already showing a preternatural power to defy gravity. She studied me with the same attention to detail.

"You like what you see?"

"Very much."

"How about my boobs?"

Mom had never been well endowed, and the loss of body fat had resulted in shrinkage up there. I had never really been a tit man, or more accurately, I liked all boobs regardless of size. Mom's were just fine.

"They're great."

"When I was in my early twenties I was slight, my small boobs fit my build. I'm much curvier now. Do you think they should be bigger?"

"Mom, they're great. You're the last woman on earth to have body image issues. Your frickin' gorgeous."

"Thanks Buster. You're mighty fine yourself. Her gaze settled on my penis. Let's get in the shower."

One advantage of town homes is that they have very big hot water heaters. Mom and I lingered in the shower. I washed her hair and thoroughly lathered every inch of her spectacular body. Her boobs might be small, but her low gentle mewls as I gave them an comprehensive cleaning showed they were mighty sensitive. I got on my knees to clean her legs, moving up to her butt and sex. Mom, her hands grabbing the top of the shower door, was soon rocking her hips in rhythm with the scrubbing I was giving her ass and vagina. Still, respecting her desire to set the pace, I advanced no further.

I didn't have long to wait.

"Use your fingers on me."

I stood up, slipping a pinkie in her rectum and another finger in her vagina. Her cunt gripped my finger. She leaned against me and her breathing deepened and slowed.

"Oh my fucking God, that's... ohhh... that's so good..."

I tipped her head back and kissed her, my tongue spearing into her mouth. We continued to kiss, hard and deep, as I worked her with my fingers. Finally, she broke the kiss and pressed her head against my chest, moaning deeply.

"Grab my ass hard. With both hands."

As I did she centered her sex on my thigh and started sliding it up and down. I put a hand on each ass cheek and pulling her tightly against my leg.

"Put a finger in my asshole."

Who was I to argue? I did.

"Move it around."

I started sliding it in and out and circling it around within her. Her asshole was incredibly tight. I could feel her muscles trying to push the invader out. All the time she slid her cunt up and down my leg.

"Feels so good baby, feels so good. Mommy's going to come on your leg. Fuck fuck, oh yeahhhhhhhh! I'm coming, AAAAIIIEEEEH."

I held her, supporting her through and after the orgasm while the water cascaded off our bodies.

* * * *

Over the next three days we got in two work-outs a days and most evenings enjoyed a long run. While still limited to mutual masturbation, we brought each other off several times a day. Mom loved showing off. She brought attention to herself with an assortment of elaborate sunglasses and long dangling earrings. Her clothes unabashedly displayed her new body. She wore fuck-me-now shoes which jacked up her fine ass and lengthened her magnificent legs. We spent one afternoon roller-blading, she in a bikini that distracted more than a few men. Mom could also be crazy kinky. One night we hit the dance floor, she in a gold dress so short and tight that it left nothing to the imagination. After two hours of dancing she dragged me out to car where we jerked each other off. People wandered by the car. Some even openly enjoyed our show; that turned her on even more.

She loved hanging all over me. In turn, I always had a hand on her. She enjoyed it when I found an excuse to brush against her ass or tits. She had that look, like she could fuck you all night and then want to fuck some more.

* * * *

One of my favorite moments of the trip was sitting on a blanket with her listening to music at an outdoor concert. Mom was wearing a red and white striped one piece dress that fell to her ankles, but featured a thigh high slit. She also wore four inch red pumps, red nail polish, red sunglasses, long dangling earrings which ended in large circles, and was carrying a bag that matched her dress. As I said, she liked to draw attention to herself.

I was sitting with my back against a tree. Mom was between my legs, her hands on my thighs, leaning against me. I was wearing a pair of loose shorts. After Mom finished an ice cream cone bought from a passing vendor, she shifted her position. I felt her hand crawl up my pants leg and start stroking my cock. I looked around in panic. No one was staring. I looked down; Mom's body and long flowing dress probably obscured what was happening.

Mom noticed my concern.

"Afraid someone will see what your nasty Mom is doing?" she asked.

"A bit."

"Don't worry, they'll be looking at this."

With that she put her right leg in the position of an inverted "V," entirely outside the slit. The leg, and it was a magnificent leg, was exposed halfway up her hip. Any man looking this way would be straining to catch a peek at her pubes. At the same time she pulled her hand out of my shorts and reached inside her bag. She coated her hand with baby oil.

"Unbutton your shorts."

Against all sane impulses, I did.

She reached behind herself and down my shorts, took the head of my cock in her hand, and started a series of twisting movements around the head. To a causal observer the movement would be imperceptible. I accepted the inevitable, relaxed, and savored what she was doing.

At first she held the head of my cock in place, swiveling four fingers around it. Eventually she slipped her thumb to the underside, finding the most sensitive area directly below the head. I found myself moving my hips in a humping motion. I looked around. Our movements were slight and with the sky darkening it was unlikely anyone who did not already know what was going on could figure it out. I closed my eyes, intent on focusing only on the horny bitch my mother was becoming and the incredible sensations her hand was bringing me.

Mom felt my body relax; she had me where she wanted me.

"This is what you want, isn't it honey? To turn your Mom into a brazen slut with no boundaries."

Mom started to turn up the heat.

"Son, you have the most delightful cock. I love this big pole. Mommy's become such a bad little filly, all she can think about is playing with your fat dick. Is Mommy becoming the kind of horny slut you want?"

She was increasing the pace . My breath was coming in short hard bursts. My hands were tightly clenched fists pushing against the ground.

"Buster, if you come in your shorts I promise to suck the dried cum from them later."

The band finished a song and the crowd burst into applause. Thank god. I grunted hard and blew my load into my shorts. Mom withdrew her hand, licked the cum from her fingers, and joined the crowd applauding the musicians. I did the same.

* * * *

On the morning of our fourth day and final full day at the beach Mom announced the good news: she had reached her weight goal. After we got back from the gym she asked if I recalled what had started our affair.

"Sure, the night that Dad made a joke about your weight, you came upstairs. You were upset. I rubbed your back."'

"Right, Buster. I want a celebratory back rub right now."

She stripped and lay on the bed. I noticed something in her ass.

"Mom, what's that?"

"It's a butt plug. I forgot it was there. Take it out, gently. Haven't you seen one before?"

"Actually, no. I've heard of them, but I've never seen one."

I pulled it from her butt. It was blue, about 2 ½ inches long, and flared.

"My anus is very sensitive. I slipped it inside before we got on the treadmill. It feels great and the distraction doesn't hurt when I did the speed work. Now, my back rub."

Mom had wanted me to see it and to remember the comment about her sensitive butt. But, still, I didn't want to rush things, they were moving along just fine. I put the butt plug down and commenced the massage. I spent about fifty minutes on her back and neck, arms, and legs, drawing appreciative soft moans.

It was time to follow-up on her comments about her butt. After five minutes of straight massage on her backside, I pulled her ass cheeks apart and ran my tongue up their length.

She squirmed. "Mmmm, feels good. You like my butt, don't you baby. I know you love looking at it. It turns me on when your eyes wander down there."

"Mom, your tush is fucking amazing."

I returned to my oral attentions, eventually focusing on the brown anal bud. I licked its surface and tried to force my tongue inside, but it was simply too tight and muscular. I further spread her ass cheeks and had some success. Mom sighed as I tickled just inside her anus with my tongue. It started to wink open and shut, allowing me to push in further.

I could smell the flow of oily juice from her pussy. I slipped a finger into her pussy and transferred the juice to her labia in slow lazy strokes. I returned my thumb to her vagina and, taking my time, found the g-spot while I stroked her clitoris with my index and ring fingers. Not too much, just consistent, moderate, pressure. I wanted it to last. I continued my oral assault on her anus.

I pushed her along slowly, but Mom was getting into it. As she got more excited, she got more vocal: "Lick Mommy's hard ass baby. Mommy's ass is on fire. Ohhhh god baby. That's the way."

She started humping my hand. By now I knew her well enough; she was headed for an eruption.

I increased the pressure on her clit while tongue-fucking her asshole. Mom pulled her ass cheeks apart so I could stick my tongue further into her. She started jerking her hips up and down, losing control of her movements.

"All I can think about is sex, I've missed so many years, so many, I am a slut, I want to be a slut, a son-fucking slut, yes, yes, help me, yes, yes, oh gooddddd, fuck, fuck, AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH."

She bucked underneath me, bashing my face with her ass. I was tempted to ram my dick in her still spasming cunt, but instead finger fucked her with almost savage power. Her cunt welcomed the intrusion and gripped at the fingers. I placed my other fingers on her clit, pushing hard. This initiated a series of follow-up orgasms as she continued to writhe and moan. Finally she collapsed on the bed, face first, breathing hard.

A few minutes later she rolled over, "Hey Buster, there is some lubricant in my bag, fish it out. Smear it on my anus, then lubricate inside.

I did so, taking my time, focusing on stimulating the inside of her rump. I was on the right track; she moaned. After I finished she asked me to lay on my back. She kissed my mouth, nuzzled my ears and neck, and licked my nipples as she moved down my chest. I ran my hands along her toned body. Finally, she coated my dick with lubricant and straddled me, her knees on either side of my hips. She slid my tool along her anal crevice. We were both well-lubricated, it moved without resistance. She centered my cock on the anal bud and lowered herself, slowly increasing the pressure.

"I used to love this Buster, but never tried it with one as big as yours."

With that I could feel her sphincter stretch and give way. The head of my cock popped inside her. Her short grunts, which originated deep in her solar plexus, reflected a combination of pain and pleasure. She supported herself with her hands on her thighs as she held my cock just inside her ass and flexed her muscles. Those muscles exquisitely worked the head of my cock. My penis had never been so intensely stimulated.

I let her know it, "God, my cock has never felt anything like this. Fuck Mom, your ass is like a vise."

I closed my eyes and relaxed, focusing my attention on my penis, not wanting to miss a single sensation.

Then Mom took another inch into her and repeated the process: holding my cock in place while tightening, relaxing, and flexing the muscles of her perfect ass.

"Fuck Mom, so fuckin' good God your ass is tight, Jesus fucking Christ, so good...."

As my cock explored ever deeper recesses of Mom's well-lubricated rectum, she softly cooed sounds of contentment, until inch by inch, she was sitting on my pubic bone. I felt her ass grudgingly expanding to accept me.

I looked up. Mom's mouth was slightly open and her head rolled back on her shoulders. Her nostrils flared and her breathing came in short bursts. There was beads of sweat on her face and rolling down her tits.

"How does it feel Mom, pleasure or pain?"

"Both, feels good, hurts good. You told me no pain, no gain, Besides," and here she looked me directly in the eye and smiled, "a little pain can be sexy."

That was a side of Mom I might want to explore.

Mom did not allow me to plunge in and out, but instead rolled her hips in an oval pattern while working my cock over with her muscles. Now, I'd like to say I was able to hold out until I brought her off. If not that, I'd like to say that I stayed hard after I came. If I said either, however, I'd be lying. Mom's ass was the sweetest tightest place my cock had ever been. Her ass muscles, which she had worked to perfection over the last months, worked my shaft with unprecedented intensity. I was soon chanting, "Fuck Mom's ass, fuck Mom's ass," until, like Mt. Vesuvius, the lava was not going to be denied. I let out a yell and exploded in her rump.

After I regained my senses I looked at Mom, who was still straddling my now limp dick. She had a huge grin on her pretty face.

"Ever had anything that good before?" she asked.

"Nope."

"Better than Patricia's?"

"What exactly did you two talk about in the hot tub?"

"Don't avoid the question."

"Yes, better than Patricia's."

She moved forward, bringing her sweet cunt to my face, "Good, now eat my pussy."

It was clear she had liked my dick up her ass; she was dripping wet. Her pussy lips were slightly separated, displaying their pink inner walls. I decided to take my time. I gave a short lick to her clitoris, waited a couple of beats, and did it again, a couple of beats, and again. "Nice," I heard her say in a husky voice. She was aroused, but not on the verge of coming. I nibbled the inside of her left thigh, returned to her clitoris, and then turned to her left thigh. After spending a few more moments with her clitoris, I lowered my head and licked and tongue fucked her vagina.

"Mom, you have the sweetest pussy."

"Sweeter then Patricia's?"

Mom enjoyed dirty talk. I decided to up the ante.

"Don't know, we might need a side-by-side taste test."

Mom was not going to back down.

"I think we can arrange that."

I continued reaming her cunt with my tongue, occasionally licking the outer lips of her vagina. I stuck my tongue inside her. "Ohhhh! God!," Mom moaned. I lapped the sweet nectar from inside her burning snatch. I gently sucked one, and then the other, of her pussy lips into my mouth. The taste, mixed with her aroma, was intoxicating. Could you get high on pussy?

I ran my tongue all around the folds of her pussy lips before plunging it back into her cunt. Mom moaned as I licked all around, pushing my tongue against her inner walls. I had pussy juice all over my mouth and my cheeks and I rocked my head, experimenting with the varying sensations I could give her. Mom started cooing, her eyes closed, her entire being focused on what I was doing between her legs. Her breasts, nipples hard, rose and fell on her chest in time with her deep slow breathing. I slipped a pinky into her anus, where, aided by a combination of my cum and the lubricant, I explored the first few inches. Her reactions confirmed what she had said earlier, her asshole was extremely sensitive. The frequency of her moans was increasing and she was now rubbing her sex up and down on my face. Her hands were on her breasts, pulling on her nipples.

I turned my attention to her labia, running my tongue along its length, raking her clitoris hard with my tongue and sucking it into my mouth.

Mom was whimpering. Her movements were becoming wilder and she started writhing. She cheered me on. "Eat Mommy's pussy. You're such a good pussy eater. Eat Mommy's pussy baby. Use your tongue on me baby...." Soon, as I continued by assault, she lost the ability to put together a sentence, the room instead reverberated with her growls of delight.

The flow and increasingly pungent smell of her pussy left no question I was on the right track. I paid close attention to her clitoris, sucking it into my mouth while lashing it with my tongue, then maintaining continual contact with that nub by sliding my tongue all over it. At the same time I fucked her ass with my pinky. Her bottom started bouncing up and down as she fucked my face. Her arms were by her side, her fists clenched. Her body stiffened and her hips jerked downwards, mashing her sweet sweet cunt in my face.

"Yeah, on yeah, god, so good, too long, need, need, fuck, yeah, oh god, ooh goddd, ohhhh, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK, CUMMINGGGGGGG."

She exploded, drenching me in her syrup. Convulsions swept the length of her body; her cunt clamped and unclamped. She sucked in great drafts of air. I held her clit against my upper lip and applied increasing pressure to it with my now all but numb tongue. In the next instant the air was squeezed out of her lungs by the next powerful spasm. She had shot off again. I started to repeat the process when, in a dazed voice she said, "No more baby, can't take any more, you eat Mommy so good."

She lay next to me. We exchanged sweet passionate kisses, savoring the joy we had bestowed on the other. Eventually she asked me to hold her and, nestled together, we fell asleep.

* * * *

Mom's movements woke me up. I was laying with my stomach against her back, my right arm draped across her breasts.

"You sleep well lover?" she asked.

"Yeah, how long?"

"About an hour." Mom's voice suddenly turned serious. "What would you think of my having breast augmentation surgery?"

Mom had made enough comments about her breasts to let me know she was not happy with their size. The trick: I had to be completely happy with her breasts while being fully supportive of her desire to change them.

"Mom, your breasts are great. Is surgery something you are seriously contemplating?"

"Yeah, I consulted with a doctor about it."

"Mom, as hard as you have worked to get back into shape, you should do it if that's what you want. You've earned it. I have only one concern."

"Which is?"

"That it won't spoil what is happening between you and I."

She rolled her body into mine. "Don't worry about that Buster. In fact, I would like you to be there when I tell your father and take me to the clinic on Wednesday."

"Have you decided on how big they're going to be?"

"How big do you think they should be?"

More tricky ground. I ventured this answer: "Not mine to say. There is certainly nothing demure about the powerful sexy body you've built. Anyone who looks at you knows you're a confident strong woman dedicated to taking care of herself. If you would want to accentuate your curvy build, I say go big."

"I'm looking at D cups."

"I'm not sure exactly what that means."

She sat up and demonstrated with her hands.

This was going to be fun.