Jane Tanner

Mother and son together

CHAPTER ONE

Marge Sayre awakened to the feel of a fat dick sensually worming its way in between the sleep-warm cheeks of her voluptuous ass.

"Mmm," she sighed, smiling as she clenched her buttocks around the forefront of her lover's erection and snuggled back into his embrace. "And just what do you think you're up to this morning?"

"As if you didn't know," the big redhead chuckled. He'd worked her nightgown up around her trim waist; now he pulled the front of it higher, cupping her clefted mound with one hand, rubbing it with an up and down motion as he tweaked the sensitive brown cones of the forty-three-year-old woman's embarrassingly small tits. Marge was nearly flat-chested and never went anywhere without wearing falsies in her bra. "Come on, baby, relax the buns. Daddy wants to go up the old dirt road."

"Oh, honey, don't," she protested, and winced as she felt his hard glans wedging insistently into her tiny rectum. "Your cock's so big. It hurts me too much."

"Don't hand me that." He captured her tumid nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and began pinching down on them. "You like it when I hurt you. Am I hurting you now? Am I pinching those little-girl titties hard enough for you yet?"

"Ohhh! Stop it, Frank! Damn it, not so hard!"

"It's turning you on, isn't it?" he demanded.

She nodded. "You know it… oooh… is! I can't help it."

"Yeah," the six-foot-three redhead gloated. "And you can't help turning on to fanny-fucking either, once we get going good. Now roll over on your stomach and spread your cheeks for me like a nice little slut."

"Please don't force me, honey. Not this morning. You know you have to get me drunk and work me up good before I can relax enough to – ouch – enjoy that!"

"Crap," he hissed, and rolled away from her. "No wonder your husband ran off with another cunt. Okay, okay… get on your back and spread 'em. Or is it asking too much to expect a piece of puss off you?"

Marge glanced at the clock. "Couldn't you wait till tonight? The alarm will be going off soon. I'm afraid Kenny will hear us."

Kenny was her nine-year-old son, who was sleeping for the first time on the couch in the living room of Frank Dixon's shoddy, three-room walk-up apartment near the business district of downtown Albuquerque.

"Sonofabitch!" Frank, who was eight years younger than Marge, cursed through gritted teeth. "I knew it wouldn't work, bringing that kid and his dog in here. Why the hell couldn't you have left 'em with your mother?"

She rolled onto her side and snuggled up to the handsome younger man, her thigh resting on his legs and her fingers toying with the patch of coppery hair at the center of his broad chest.

"Darling, don't be that way," she wheedled. "Love me?"

He broke into a grin, "Better believe it, little tits, even if you are old and skinny."

"Don't say that!" she whined. "You know how sensitive I am about the size of my breasts. Besides, I'm only a year older than you," she said, continuing the lie she'd told him when he had picked her up in a cafe a month ago. "And I am not skinny… at least not from the waist down."

"I'll say. It was them long, shapely legs that made me do a double take when I seen you the first time. And that gorgeous rump, the way you was swingin' it, I damn near creamed my jeans. Hell, no, you're not skinny, and I dig them little-girl titties, too, if you want to know the truth. Each one of 'em is a just-right mouthful with nothing goin' to waste. I was only teasing. Don't you know that by now?"

"I guess so," she replied, and kissed his beard-stubbled cheek. "But I wish you wouldn't. I love you with all my heart, and it hurts my feelings when you make fun of the way I'm built. And you know I didn't have any choice about bringing Kenny here. Mother disowned me when she found out I was living with you. I had to get Kenny away from her before she went to court and tried to have me declared an unfit mother. She threatened to. You know she did."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Kenny's my son. He belongs with me. If we're going to live together, our home has to be Kenny's home too. You said you understood."

"Yeah," Frank agreed grudgingly. "But I got a feeling that kid's gonna come between us."

"Oh, darling, no. Be patient. When I find a job, we'll rent a house so Kenny can have his own bedroom. Everything will be fine then. You'll see. We'll be so happy."

"Sure, baby, but in the meantime, how about making your daddy happy this morning?" he said with a grin, and placed her hand on his erected penis.

Marge wrapped her slender, red-nailed white fingers around the standing column of pulsing turgidity and gave it an affectionate squeeze. Slowly she began moving her hand up and down on the slightly upward-curved shaft, popping the rubbery foreskin on and off the blood-engorged crown.

"You go for that hunk of meat, don't you?"

"You know I do," she sighed. Her head was resting on his shoulder now, her hazel eyes watching his dong as her hand stroked it.

"Show me how much you like it."

He put his hand on her head and began pushing it down toward his loins, her disheveled, shoulder-length brunette hair trailing behind, tickling his chest then his stomach. The first time he'd gotten the deserted wife and mother to go down on him, he'd had to get her drunk and slap her a couple of times to make her come around. No longer. Once she'd had a taste of cock, she went for it in a big way. Oh, she still thought it was dirty and degrading, but that only made it more exciting for both of them. No matter what she said, Frank knew she loved it when he fed her the old fuckstick. He had her number, all right. At least he was satisfied in his own mind that he did. Despite her fancy airs and middle-class morals, she was no different from any other cock-hungry cunt, and he'd taken great pleasure in showing her what she was, beginning with the first night they'd met.

Marge knew what he expected of her, and she wanted to do it for him; but as always, her sense of decency held her back. Each time it was the same. She would give in against her better judgment, her conscience telling her what a weak-willed, filthy slut she was for enjoying the perverted oral sex act.

Only this morning it was worse, because her little boy was sleeping just a few feet beyond the closed bedroom door.

"What are you waiting for?" he barked.

"Please, honey, couldn't we postpone this until tonight?"

"For crissake, why?"

"Look at the clock. The alarm is about to go on."

He snatched the clock off the bedside table and jabbed the alarm button to off. "That satisfy you?"

She shook her head. "I just don't feel right about it, Frank, with Kenny in the next room."

"He'll be there, tonight, too, remember?"

"But it'll be dark then, and he'll be asleep," she whined. "He might be awake now. What if he hears us? Or comes in here and sees what we're doing? I'd just die!"

Frank grabbed her by the wrist and jerked her back up beside him. He forced her onto her back and got on top of her, prying her legs apart with his knees. "Now you listen to me and listen good!" he growled. "You're my woman, and I'll hose you any time I feel like it, understand? It wasn't my idea to move your kid in here. I want a piece of tail, and, by God, I'm gonna have it. Right now! If the brat sees us or hears us, tough shit! He's gotta grow up sometime, don't he? Now, that's the way it's gonna be, or you can pack up and get the hell out. You got that, Marge?"

She nodded stiffly. With less than five dollars to her name, where could she go now that her own mother had piously washed her hands of her? She'd never felt so helpless and humiliated in her life. Her lips quivered. Tears welled up in her eyes.

"Aw, come on, sugar, turn off the water works."

"I'm nothing but a piece of ass to you!" she sobbed.

"Not true. I love you. We'll even make it legal someday if you want to, after you get your divorce."

"If you love me, how can you talk to me like that and, treat me this way? Without any concern for my feelings!"

"I told you before, baby, I'm the boss. I never took no crap off any broad, my ex-wife included, and I'm not about to start taking it now. That's the way I'm made. I can't help it any more than I could help falling for you like a ton of bricks. You gotta take me like I am or not at all. We've been through all this before, remember, sweet stuff?"

Marge sniffed and nodded. She forced a weak smile as she reached for a facial tissue to dry her eyes.

"That's more like it," he said, and kissed her.

Reluctantly Marge opened her mouth and allowed his insistent tongue to slither in through her lips and invade her oral cavity. She didn't want to let him arouse her. It was time to get up. There was breakfast to prepare, and after Frank left for work, she had to take Kenny and enroll him in that dreadful old school with all those Mexican and Negro children. But it would only be temporary. When she found a job, they could rent a nice house in a decent part of the city and transfer Kenny to one of the better schools again.

"What the hell's the matter with you? Get hot, damn it!"

"We should be getting up, Frank. I've got to make breakfast and take Kenny to school. I guess I was thinking about that."

"Later," he told her. "Piss on that noise for now. Think about me, and the fucking I'm gonna give you before I let you out of bed."

"I'll try," she murmured, and resignedly she put her arms around him.

When he kissed her again, she met his tonguetip with hers and licked back at his taste organ as he probed it gradually into her mouth. He snaked his desire-provoking tongue ever deeper into her responsive oral chamber, and when she felt the tip of it teasing the soft lining at the back of her throat, she emitted a submissive sigh and began sucking it in earnest.

As they kissed with tongues entwined, Frank took his erection in hand and started running the feverish head round and around the dew-moistened inner surfaces of her hair-ringed labia majora, making sure that he flicked her elongating clitoris every time his enlarged knob swabbed through the inverted V at the top of her elliptical opening. Doggedly he kept it up, deliberately teasing her pussy until he got her worked up past the point of no return. Only then did he ask, "How about it, baby, you ready to put out for your daddy now?"

"Yes, yes," Marge panted. "You've got me so hot! Put it in me, darling! Please put it in now!"

He wedged the bluntly rounded forefront of his skinned-back dome between the slippery brownish lips of her juiced-up snatch, then paused and grinned down at her lust-contorted face from a stiff-armed position above her.

"Ooooh," she sighed, squirming about in sensual discomfort. Her shimmering eyes gazed up at him imploringly, her tongue sweeping her red lips. "More!" she begged. "Oh, darling, don't tease me this way!"

"You want my cock in you now, huh?"

"Your big, sweet cock! Yes, yes… give it to me!"

"What about your kid?" he taunted. "You didn't forget about Kenny, did you? Aren't you afraid he'll hear us?"

"Oh, damn it… yes, but… if we go easy, maybe he won't!"

A sadistic gleam in his eyes, Frank suddenly lunged into her right up to the hilt. His dickhead jarred her womb. His lean abdomen clapped against the satin-skinned mound of her slightly rounded lower belly, and a split second later his heavy nutsac swung forward and whacked lewdly into the milk-white crack of her cringing ass.

"Naaahhhh!" Marge cried, and then sucked in her breath raggedly, the pleasured shock of being penetrated so roughly causing her to shudder involuntarily.

"Was that easy enough for you?" he grunted, and began fucking into her like a wild man.

"Please, Frank… ohh, ohhhh… not so hard!"

"Shut up! You know you like it this way! You've told me so often enough!" he husked, banging away at her, the bedsprings creaking raspingly as his stomach slapped rapid-fire against hers.

"Ohhhhh… God, that's good!" she moaned as she slid her palms down his back and clasped the muscular cheeks of his furiously pumping butt. "Yes, I love it! But slow down! This old bed… it makes too much… aaaah… noise! Ease up, honey… pul-eeze… ooouuuu… or Kenny… will be sure… to hear us!"

"That's our song… unnn… the bed's playing!" Frank countered, riding her hard and fast. "Remember what you said? 'Let it squeak, Daddy! Make it sing louder for us, 'cause I dearly love to hear it!'"

"But not with… mmmmm… my little boy… ahhhh… in the next room! For God's sake, Frank… oh, sweet dick… let up… a little… OHHHHH… won't you, please?!"

But Marge's piteous pleading fell on deaf ears. Being the type of man he was, Frank callously brushed aside the basically decent woman's natural motherly concern that her innocent child might hear them having sexual intercourse. It gave him a charge to hear her beg between ever longer and more throaty sighs of mounting pleasure. For some perverse reason, he wanted the boy to know he was throwing a fuck into his mother. He even found himself hoping the little shit would open the door and come into the room while he was ramming it to her.

Silently Marge prayed that her young son wouldn't hear the incessant creaking and popping of the rusty old bedsprings. For the boy's sake, she tried to hold herself in check. But it was a losing battle. It felt better each time Frank hunched it to her, his fat dick boring deep into her belly as the force of his thrusts kept driving her butt down into the sagging mattress. It was getting too good. She couldn't hold back.

"Oh, damn you!" she sobbed, and began working with him.

"I figured you'd come around," Frank gloated. "Gettin' good to you, is it? Yeah, that's it, baby! Shake that sweet ass for me! Throw that hot cunt up to your daddy!"

Marge drew up her long tapering legs, bending them at the knees, and planted the soles of her small feet in the mattress beside his legs. The tendons connecting her thighs to her groin stood out taut as bowstrings, alternately jerking and relaxing as she employed the muscles in her shapely lower limbs to help her hammer her sopping twat up to her adulterous lover.

"Daddy, Daddy… ahhhhh… give it to mee!" she moaned, matching the two-hundred-pound man stroke for stroke.

"God, what a man! Unn, unn! HOW I love it… the way that horsecock… of yours bangs away at… oooohh… my very wwoommbb!!!"

The combined weight of their thrashing bodies totaled three-hundred-twenty-five pounds, and they were really going at it now, making the bed's headboard go bam, bam, bam against the wall as the dilapidated springs supporting the mattress squawked and snapped protestingly.

"Your kid's gonna hear us, Marge!" Frank said with mock concern.

"I kn-know it!" she wailed piteously. "But, God help me… I don't care… now! Your cock! Ohhhhh… Lord it's soooo goooddd!!!"

He laughed derisively, threw a volley of extra hard jabs into her then paused suddenly, grinding his coarse, redhaired pubic mound against her spongy mons with his rod planted balls-deep in her firebox pussy. "That's all that matters, huh, baby? A belly full of stiff meat!"

"Yes, yes, ohhhhh… oh, yesss!!" she squealed. She felt cheap and sinful for responding so passionately with her child in the next room, almost sure to hear her crying out like a vulgar slut, but she couldn't help herself. Frank had every bit of his fat seven-inch pole into her. He was rotating his hips, stirring her guts like a tossed salad with the bloated head of his turgid tool. "Oh, God… Frank… Daddy, Daddy… ooouuu… that feels… so damn gooooddd!!"

Frank's expression was a mixture of amusement and lust as he started stroking it to her again, his sex-wetted pole plowing rapidly in and out of the steaming furrow between her drawn-up, widely-parted legs.

"Ohh, ohh, ohh!" Marge chanted, her face a mask of rapture, her head lolling about on the pillow.

The headboard beat a rhythmic tattoo against the wall, the springs popping and creaking loudly with the age-old song of heated sexual intercourse.

"Give it to me! Aaaaah! Oh, Daddy, Daddy… harder… faster! Give it to meee!!"

He kissed her with open-mouthed urgency, ramming his tongue down her throat. He slid his hands under her and cupped the resilient globes of her womanly buttocks, his fingers kneading her spongy assflesh, jerking her up to him each time he socked his rampant member into the silky depths of her slippery vagina.

Marge moaned through her passion-flared nostrils. She sucked his tongue hungrily. Her long, red-lacquered fingernails dug at the twin moons of his freckled buns, spurring him on.

"Oh, Jesus God!" she said, the back of her head burrowing into the pillow when he broke the tongue-sucking kiss. "Sweet dick! Oh, Frank…dar-linggg… love you… yes, yes… fuck me… fuck me… aaaaahhhh!!!"

Frank grunted his pleasure and maintained the rapid tempo of his pile-driving thrusts. They were both perspiring freely now, their abdomens smacking together, making a continuous stream of lewd, wet, slapping noises.

"Shake it, baby!" he husked. "Oh, you sweet bitch… you cock-hungry slut!"

"Your bitch!" she whimpered protestingly, but, as they always did in the heat of passion, his degrading remarks gave her an illicit thrill. "Your slut, Daddy! Mmmmm! Only for you!"

A cruel smile twisted his face. Humping away, he panted, "It's cock you love! And the bigger the better, right?"

"Oh, darling, nooh! Unn, unn… ohhhhhhh… your cock! Only yours! Lord, it's… soo good! Fits me… ooouuuu… just right! Hush! Don't talk! Just ssccrreeww me!!!"

He was cramming it to her a mile a minute, making her sigh and moan as the force of his womb-jolting thrusts drove her gyrating rump down into the sagging mattress.

"You wish… it was bigger, though… don't you, slut?" he persisted.

They'd been through this several times before. Marge knew what he wanted to hear, so she told him, "Yes, yes… I do! I wish your cock was bigger! Ahhhhhh! A foot long… ohh, ohh… and twice as big around! So you could… oh, shit…ram it clear up to my tits!"

"Now you're talkin', hot ass!" he rasped, and French-kissed her, his butt arcing furiously up and down as he poured on the coals and began galloping down the home stretch.

Marge had had Kenny, her only child, by Caesarean section, so her pussy was tight as a young girl's. Her velvety sheath fit Frank's thick shaft like a custom-made glove. Now that he'd got her over some of her hang-ups, she was the best hunk of butt he'd ever found. But for some reason which he himself didn't understand, he had to keep humiliating the middle-class woman. He'd already dragged her down to his level, and still he wasn't satisfied. It wasn't that he didn't love her, because he did. But Frank was a mixed-up guy, and the other women who'd fallen for the handsome redhead since his divorce each regretted it later. There was no tenderness in the man. He was the type that couldn't help hurting women. It was a compulsion with him. At the moment he wished he had a prong a yard long and as big around as his arm, so he could shove it up Marge and split her in half.

"Take it, little tits!" he bellowed. "Take it! Take it!!!"

There was nothing she could do but take it. He was snorting and bucking, riding her like a stallion rides a mare. She couldn't keep up. He was ramming the meat to her for all he was worth, his two-hundred-twenty-pound frame buffeting her slender, sweat-sheened body with the fury of a tropical storm.

"Ohhh, gawd!" she groaned. Her lovely legs came up around him like two gripping pythons. She locked her trim ankles over the small of his back, the pink heels of her dainty feet digging into the upper slopes of his muscular buttocks to help him cram it to her. "Go Daddy, GO! Hump it tooo me! Fuck that horse-cock… ahhhhhh. into me… hard and… ffaassttt!!"

Her son was the farthest thing from her mind now. She was about to cum and knew that Frank was, too. His bloated balls had drawn up against his groin and were no longer whacking her in the ass. His face was contorted with preorgasmic agony and his green eyes had a glassy appearance to them.

His rear end was a blur of motion, driving his rock-hard prick like a piston in the sucking wet cylinder of her copiously secreting vagina. The blood-engorged lips of her hairy hole clung to the pulsating shaft of his glistening, pussy-wetted organ, distending out around it during each out-thrust, then folding inward in joyous acceptance as he plowed it back into the feverish depths of her rippling, sweat-dripping belly.

The bed threatened to collapse when a slat worked loose and clattered to the floor. Frank let out a curse but kept hammering away at her without missing a stroke. If anything, he was powering the pole to her even harder than before, the impact of his sledge-hammer thrusts scooting her up in the bed till her head was raised and her shoulders were mashed against the headboard.

"God, God, God!" Marge chanted, hissing through her teeth. "Ohhhhhhh…you big-dicked bastard… I lloovvee itt! Stab me! Rip me! Ohh, Daddy, Daddy… cram it to me! Fuck me… aaaaaah… ffuucckk mmeee!!"

"You Ready?" he gasped.

"Jesus, yesss!" she wailed, hugging him as she rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. "Don't hold back! Let it go, Daddy! Shoot it! Ohhhhhhh…now, now… nnoowww!!"

A choking sob ripped from the redhead's gaping mouth as he plunged the throbbing length of his turgid stalk hilt-deep into the moist head of her juiced-up snatch for the final time. The enlarged head of his rod banged against the tender neck of her pear-shaped uterus and stayed there, his bloated testicles quivering as they released their burdensome load of pressurized semen. His cockhead expanded to the limit as it spewed out a massive gush of spiraling hot cream.

The first and most forceful spurt of his scalding ejaculate hit directly into the ultra-sensitive mouth of Marge's orgasmically primed womb, triggering her release mechanism instantaneously. Her lust-glazed eyes clenched shut, deepening the crows-feet at their corners. Her mouth flew open, her puffy red lips drawing back to show her teeth as her face took on an expression of agony/ecstasy. Her toes curled down to hug the balls of her feet, a guttural cry of fulfillment rumbling up from deep inside her suddenly stilled chest.

"Whaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!" she shrieked, as the first in a series of flesh-quaking tremors wracked her perspiration-soaked torso.

"Ung, ung, ung!" Frank grunted in the typical male fashion as his fully inserted root planted his masculine seed in the fluttering depths of her feminine belly.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh!" Marge groaned, the cords in her neck standing out as she pressed the back of her skull against the headboard. Her ankles lost their grip, her heels grazing his thighs as her legs flopped down to the mattress and began jerking and twitching erratically. "Cumming… I'm cumming, too! Cuuuummmmm iiinnnnggggg!!"

It wasn't necessary for her to announce her climax. He could feel her snug sheath grabbing convulsively at his stem, as if he couldn't pump his load to her fast enough and her greedy cunt was trying to milk it out of him.

"Oh, Daddy! Yessss! Shoot it! Aaaaaahhhhhhh! Squirt it into mee… deep and hot! Ohhhhhh… Christ, that's goooooddd! Cum, Daddy! Ooouuuu! Cum, cum, ccuummm!!"

Mindlessly she bit into his shoulder and raked his back with her sharp, red fingernails. He gritted his teeth and drove his fingers into the sweat-dampened cleft of her rump, took a firm grip on her tremulous asscheeks and started squeezing and twisting them.

"Gaaaaahhhhhhhh!!" she yelled, her face contorting with the pain his punishing hands imparted to her tender buttocks. But she was disinclined to complain. If she did, he would only hurt her more. Besides, he was right – she did like it when he hurt her! At least up to a point, because he'd discovered her hidden streak of masochism and she couldn't deny the wild thrill which was now blasting through her, making her orgasm so ungodly intense that she feared it would shatter her very soul.

"Darling!" she bleated, shivering from head to toes. "Yesss! Hurt me! Ohhhhhhhhh…oh, gawd, gawd… aaaaaaahhhhhh… oh, Frank… I love yyoouu… aaaggghhhhhhh… with all my… mmmmmmm… heart! Aaarrrhhhhh… ooouuuu… aaahhhhhh… oh, shit, sshhiitttt… nnaagghhhh!!"

Her legs flailed jerkily about, her heels beating the mattress. She chewed her lower lip, moaning and whimpering as she pounded the back of her skull against the headboard. Her glassy eyes rolled up until only their whites could be seen, and heaving a guttural groan, she collapsed into a sobbing, blubbering heap of sweat-drenched feminine fuckstuff, her spasming pussy clutching blissfully at the sperm-spurting cock of her adulterous lover.

When finally she opened her eyes, she wanted to die, for standing in the open doorway were her son and his pet. The big German shepherd was wagging its tail, but the expression on her little boy's face was one of horror-stricken incredulity.

"Oh, My God! Kenny!" she gasped, her cheeks burning with shame. "How long have you been standing there?!"

"Long enough to get an eyeful, huh, kid?" Frank laughed. The boy nodded dumbly. Frank backed his deflating, slick-streaked dong from Marge's sperm-filled muff, and holding her legs open, he said, "I believe the little fart wants a look at your cunt, Marge. Come on, kid, take a gander if you want. I don't mind."

"Frank! What are you saying?!" Marge wailed. She felt like crawling in a hole and pulling it in behind her. "Kenny, nooh! Don't you dare come in here! Take Bobo down to the alley so he can go to the bathroom! Go oonnn!!"

When her son nodded unsurely and timidly closed the door behind him, Marge burst into tears, shrieking, "You bastard! How could you humiliate me that way in front of my little boy?!"

"Aw, pipe down!" Frank muttered as he climbed out of bed. "So your kid saw us! So, what? It was bound to happen sooner or later, wasn't it?"

"I… su-suppose so," Marge reluctantly admitted. She clenched shut her eyes and hugged herself. The way Kenny had looked at her! Dear God, she felt cheap, so ashamed of herself for exposing her innocent son to such a display of sinful sordidness.

"Then why make a big deal of it?" Frank asked. "Come on, sugar. It'll be all right. How about fixing breakfast now? Okay?"

CHAPTER TWO

It wasn't okay. What had happened would never be all right. Marge felt like crawling under the bed, not getting up to make breakfast. Kenny had seen her having intercourse and she was wretched with guilt. But it was done. There was no undoing it, and life had to go on. So Marge, sick at heart, dragged herself out of bed.

Happy go lucky as usual – when he wasn't drinking too much or sexing – Frank wolfed down a big plate of fried ham and scrambled eggs, with Kenny pecking halfheartedly at his smaller portion and Marge chain smoking cigarettes as she sipped steaming black coffee. She had no appetite this morning, was grateful for the lack of conversation.

"Gotta get rolling," Frank said, jumping up soon as he'd bolted his food. "Be finished with this job today. Maybe we'll celebrate tonight," he called over his shoulder as he went out the door without kissing Marge goodbye.

"What was he doing to you, Mama?" Kenny asked the instant they were alone.

Marge had known the question was coming, and she'd been dreading it. She gulped, fought down the urge to run and dive under the bed, and deciding the simple truth would be best, she said, in as calm and matter-of-fact a voice as she could muster, "He was making love to me, Son."

For a moment Kenny said nothing. It was obvious he didn't understand. "Sounded like he was hurting you. I got scared. I didn't know what to do."

How could she explain it to him? He was only nine years old. "It's too complicated. You won't understand such things until you're much older, but Frank and I love each other. We're going to be married soon. He's your new daddy now."

"I don't want him to be my daddy," Kenny pouted.

"But, Kenny, your real father deserted us, and I…"

"I don't want no other daddy! Or my real one back either!" the boy sobbed, throwing himself at her, locking his arms around her as he climbed onto her lap and buried his face against her padded bosom. "All I want is you, Mama! Let's go back to Grandma's and live! I don't want you to love that old Frank! I want you to love me!"

"Oh, precious, I do love you," she crooned, and hugged him tight.

"But you sleep with him now!" Kenny sobbed. "At Grandma's you slept with me! I don't like it here! I don't want you to sleep with that old Frank! You don't love me no more!"

"Oh, yes, I do love you, Kenny. Just because I love Frank doesn't mean that I can't love you, too. I love you both!"

"But you love him better!" the child sobbed. "He's the one you was sleepin' with!"

Kenny's reaction of frightened jealousy was quite normal for a child his age, under the circumstances. He'd lost his father and now feared he was about to lose his mother, too. It had been a traumatic experience for the nine-year-old, seeing his mother in the primal act with the big redheaded man who was a virtual stranger to him. It had shaken the very foundation of Kenny's already damaged sense of security.

"Honey, listen to me," Marge pleaded, her hands caressing his back as she gently rocked him to and fro, the way she'd done countless times when he was younger. "You've got to understand that there're many different kinds of love. I love Frank, yes, the way a woman loves a man. I love him the way I loved your father. Can you understand that?"

Kenny nodded. "I think so."

"Well, I loved you, too, didn't I, when your father was living with us?"

"Yeah."

"And didn't I sleep with him?"

Kenny nodded grudgingly but said nothing. "Then don't you see how it's the same way now, only with Frank instead of your real daddy?"

"I guess so," the child sniffed.

"Of course you do. Now, the way I love you, that's the strongest love of all. You're my little boy, and no man can ever take your place in my heart. I'll never stop loving you, Kenny, no matter what, because I'm your mother. You're my kid, my own flesh and blood, and you're the most precious thing in the whole world to me."

He drew back, studying her face hopefully as he asked, "Does that mean you love me more than you do Frank or Daddy either?"

"I guess it must," she replied honestly. "Because I love you even more than I love myself."

"Then let's go back to Grandma's!" he chirped.

"No, Son, we can't. Grandma doesn't want me in her house anymore. We're going to stay right here with Frank."

The boy didn't like it, but finally he drawled, "Well… okay, I guess, if we gotta. But he can sleep on the couch, 'cause from now on, me and Bobo's sleepin' with you, Mama."

Marge couldn't help smiling. "Why, Kenny, I believe you're jealous of me."

"What's that mean?"

She laughed softly. "Jealous? It means you want to keep me all to yourself, that you don't want me to love Frank, too."

"I don't mind too much if you love him just a little bit, but I don't want you sleepin' with him no more. Is it a deal? Him on the couch and me and Bobo in the bed with you?"

"No, honey, Frank would never go for that deal. Me, either, for that matter. When a man and woman love each other, they want to sleep together. You won't have to sleep on the couch for long. Soon as I find a job, we're going to move to a nice house and you'll have your own bedroom again."

"Then till we move, I'll sleep with you and Frank, in the middle, and Bobo can sleep on the floor."

"Oh, no, you won't," she chuckled, and kissed the tip of his nose. "Our sleeping arrangement stays just as it is. And, Kenny, I don't want you coming into the bedroom again without knocking first, do you understand?"

"All right," he grumbled. "But I don't like it."

Marge hugged him impulsively, and purred, "I know you don't, jealous, but that's the way it's going to be. Oh, precious, isn't it enough that Mother loves you the most?"

"No, I want to sleep with you like at Grandma's."

"Well, you can't, so you may as well forget it."

"Why? Because you want him to make love to you some more?"

"Kenny! What a thing to say to your mother!"

"Well, you do, don't you?" he demanded, looking her right in the eye.

Her cheeks flushed. She started to deny it, then changed her mind and decided to stick with the truth. He'd already caught her in the act and would probably hear them doing it again anyway. "All right, mister nosy, if you must know, yes, I do want him to make love to me again. You're too young to understand that a woman needs that sort of thing, but you will some day."

"But, Mama, you don't need him. I love you more'n he does! I saw what he was doing to you. Heck, I could make love to you good as him. I know I could!"

"Kenny! Hush! You don't know what you're saying!" Marge gasped. "Now, not another word, young man! I won't have you talking that way! Go brush your teeth! Scoot! Hurry! I've got to take you to school right now! You're late already!"

If Kenny had known what he was suggesting, Marge would've been mortified. The very idea! Her nine-year-old son making love to her! But he didn't know, and although it embarrassed her, she was secretly pleased that the little bugger was so jealous of her, the ludicrousness of his naive notion notwithstanding.

It wasn't the type of school Marge wanted her son to attend, but for the present she had no choice in the matter. She enrolled him, told him she would meet him at the door they'd come in when the day's classes were over, then pecked his forehead and left him in the care of a middle-aged Mexican-teacher as wide as she was tall.

Marge walked hurriedly back to the apartment, fighting the awful feeling that she'd permanently come down several notches in the world. Her husband had been a successful real estate salesman. The previous year he'd earned almost sixteen thousand dollars in commissions. They'd been living in a thirty-thousand-dollar home, mortgaged of course, with two cars in the garage, one of them three years old and paid for, the other new with monthly payments due at the bank. They'd wanted for nothing they really needed, and until five weeks before her husband deserted her for a woman half her age, running off to God knows where with the home-wrecking slut, Marge had thought all was well in her middle-class world.

And look at me now, she thought miserably, realistically appraising her current situation as she climbed the narrow, dark stairs toward the shoddy little apartment located above a second-hand furniture store. Still married to that bastard Carl and living with a house painter in a dump like this! Maybe I don't deserve any better, but Kenny does. I won't let my son become white trash!

Their savings had disappeared along with Marge's husband. All he'd left her was a few hundred dollars in their joint checking account, and now that was gone. The mortgage company had evicted her from her home. Her husband had taken the paid-for car and the bank had eventually repossessed the other.

Choking back tears of self-pity, Marge entered the apartment and began tidying up. She refused to think about what she might do with the place to make it more liveable. Enrolling Kenny in that dreadful school with all those Mexican and Negro children had made her desperate to move into a house in a decent neighborhood again. She'd had no luck finding a suitable job as yet, but she had to start trying again. Immediately! Today!

And as soon as she saved enough money, she would start divorce proceedings against Carl. She loved Frank despite his coarseness, but she couldn't go on shacking up with him forever. Now that her son was with them, it made her feel even cheaper than before. For all their sakes, she wanted to divorce Carl and marry Frank as soon as possible.

Once they were married and living as a family in a nice little home of their own, then she could subtly start to work on Frank. At forty-three, with one marriage failure behind her, Marge had no illusions about remaking a second husband into her ideal of what a man should be. But Frank was a bit on the lazy side, which was no way for a self-employed man to be, and he drank more than she thought he should.

When Frank worked, he worked hard and Marge knew he must be an exceptionally good house painter because he turned down at least two jobs for every one he accepted. All she would have to do was get him to ease off on the drinking some, and imbue him with enough ambition so he would want to make something of himself, and there was virtually no limit to how far he could rise in the world.

At the very least, even if Frank insisted on continuing to work alone – he'd said he didn't want a paint contracting business with all the problems of hiring other painters and everything – he could easily handle twice as many jobs as he was now doing, and make upward of a thousand dollars a month.

To push Frank this far was Marge's first goal, and if he sincerely wanted to go no further up the ladder of success, then she would ease up on him and be satisfied. But she didn't dare start working on him until after they were married, and before she could get a divorce or a decent house, she had to get herself out and find a suitable job of her own, so as to show Frank what a little ambition and initiative could do to make life more pleasant and enjoyable for them as a family.

Marge showered and then shaved her armpits. With a hand mirror, she closely examined her pussy and, finding three crisp pubic hairs with telltale gray near the roots, she plucked them out and flushed them down the toilet. Lord only knew how much gray there would be on her head if she ever stopped dyeing her shoulder-length brunette tresses. But she wasn't about to stop dyeing her hair now or ever. She couldn't bear to see a gray hair on her head or between her legs, and she shuddered at the thought of Frank ever finding one on her. She would either pluck her cunt bald or start shaving it before she would ever let that happen. At least until he started turning gray himself, because he must never learn that she'd lied to him about her age.

In the bedroom, Bobo wagging his tail as he watched her every move, she hooked a white garter belt around her flared hips then sat down on the edge of the bed to put on a pair of sheer, flesh-toned nylon stockings. Standing, she stepped into a pair of lavender, lace-trimmed panties and drew them up her long, shapely legs and over her rounded buttocks. She put on a bra of the same color as her panties and filled the too-large cups with a set of foam rubber falsies.

Back in the bathroom, she reapplied the make-up base which the shower had washed off – it hid the tiny age lines in her face which Frank had never seen since she wore her make-up even in bed nowadays. Her eyebrows were thin lines, carefully plucked and arched. She darkened and lengthened them with a dark brown eyebrow pencil, giving them a slight, somewhat catlike upward curve at the outer ends. She darkened her eyelashes with mascara, brushed a faint blue eyeshadow over the lids, concealed the bags under her eyes with an expensive make-up specially designed for that purpose and topped the eye job off with a thin line of jet black along the lower edge of her eyelids that ended in an upward angle giving the appearance of a perpetual smile about a quarter of an inch past the corners of her eyes.

She applied a generous coat of wet-red lipstick to her full, well-proportioned oral petals, a shade that complemented rather than matched the bright red color of her carefully polished fingernails and toenails. On impulse she moistened the tip of her eyebrow pencil with her tongue and applied a tiny beauty mark, an almost imperceptible round dot, just below the finely chiseled prominence of her right cheekbone.

Beaming approval – she thought the heavy but tastefully applied face make-up made her look a good ten years younger – Marge returned to the bedroom to finish dressing. She donned a light brown sheath dress, a mini that would show off her attractive legs to best advantage, and put on a pair of brown, high-heeled, ankle-strap shoes that would be sure to call attention to her legs.

Adding a modest, becoming pair of small gold earrings to her pierced lobes, and a broad brown belt cinched tightly about her trim waist so as to highlight the undulating curves of her womanly hips and buttocks, Marge tripped lightly from the apartment with high hopes of finding that suitable, ladylike job which she wanted and needed so badly.

CHAPTER THREE

But this was Marge's first day of serious job hunting, and she was fooling no one except herself. Had she been snowing some horny guy in a dimly-lit cocktail lounge, she could've gotten away with knocking ten years off her age. To the trained eye of a prospective employer, however, she came across as exactly what she was – a rather desperate woman in her early forties.

At the beginning, as she applied for sales and office jobs in the downtown district, the help-wanted ads carefully folded and tucked away out of sight in her purse, she had herself psyched up to the point where she felt twenty-three and almost believed her own lie when she said she was thirty-three.

Her make-up, while not exactly garish, was a bit on the heavy side to all but the most casual of observers. Actually it called attention to her age rather than hiding it, making her appear somewhat pathetic to the very people she hoped to impress in precisely the opposite manner.

Without realizing that her tits were fake, several male interviewers ogled her shape, a couple of them literally drooling over her long, nylon-encased legs and the compelling curves of her alluring, womanly hips and butt. Unfortunately, since she had no work experience, they were each forced to regretfully turn down her job application and wish her better luck elsewhere.

It was all very disillusioning to Marge, but she wouldn't give up. She needed a job! So she kept plugging away, trudging about here and there, her appearance becoming more and more wilted as the day wore on. Finally deciding she was getting nowhere on her own, Marge went to an employment agency, where she was interviewed by a hard-nosed woman of perhaps fifty with the build of a man and a voice to match.

"Look, honey, why don't you cut out the bullshit?" the woman told Marge in a blunt but not unkindly manner. "You're forty if you're a day, and you may as well admit it. You've got no experience at anything except being a wife and mother. In case you didn't know, that doesn't qualify you for anything but more of the same. Nowadays, the economy being in the mess it is, a man your age is in a helluva fix when he gets out of work, even if he's got a trade, so where do you think that leaves you? Up the creek, that's where. You come in here asking me to place you in a 'dignified, ladylike position'. I'm sorry, but I've got no magic wand. Now, if you want to come down to earth, there's a new pants factory opening up next week. They need sewing machine operators bad enough to train some, and I believe I can get you on there. Minimum wage to start and a dime raise a month for six months. Think you can hack it?"

"I didn't come in here to be insulted!" Marge huffed as she got to her feet.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it that way. In my business, time is money. I was only giving it to you straight in as few words as possible. If you change your mind, give me a call. Now if you'll excuse me, good day and good luck to you."

Hurt and angry, Marge stomped from the employment agency onto a sidewalk teeming with people hurrying toward buses and parking lots. It was ten after five. The workaday world was over until tomorrow, and she had gone down in ignominious failure.

Bone-weary and thoroughly disheartened, Marge began making her way along the crowded city sidewalk, plodding toward the dinky, walkup apartment which she now realized might be her home for a good deal longer than she'd hoped she would have to put up with it. Her stomach rumbled from lack of food; she'd had no breakfast and had forgotten to eat lunch. The muscles in her legs ached from walking all day. Her feet were swollen, painfully cramped inside her fashionable high-heeled shoes. She wanted a cigarette in the worst way but was too much of a lady to light one and smoke it while she was walking down the public street.

When she climbed the narrow stairs in her stocking feet, carrying her shoes in one hand and her purse in the other, she found Kenny sitting morosely outside the apartment door.

"For heaven's sake, Son, why are you sitting out here?" she asked, and then answered her own question in a high-pitched whine: "Good grief, I didn't get a key made for you yet, did I? And I completely forgot to meet you at school! Oh, precious, Mother's so sor…"

Kenny, leaped up shaking his fists and screaming with rage. "You said you'd be there! You promised! I waited and waited and you never did come! Why didn't you come get me?! Where were you?! What were you doing all…?"

This was too much. In frustration she flung down her purse and shoes and lashed out at the slender boy. She slapped his delicately featured face then grabbed him by the upper arms and shook him till his teeth rattled.

"Don't you yell at me!" she shrieked. "Goddamn it, don't you ever yell at me like that again! I'm your mother! And I'll have the respect due me… do you hear?"

Kenny nodded, his eyes as big as saucers. He pissed his pants. Marge didn't know whether she scared it out of him or shook it out of him. But she was sorely ashamed of the childish way she'd matched his tantrum with an even worse one of her own.

"Mama, I c-couldn't help it!" the nine-year-old whimpered, looking down in horror at his soiled pants. "I been sittin' out here… about to b-bust… for a long time!"

Tears welled up in Marge's eyes when her young son broke down and started bawling helplessly. Contritely she made over him as only a guilt-stricken mother can, drying his tears as she assured him that his humiliating predicament was her fault, not his. She explained why she hadn't called for him at school and apologized profusely. Then she took him into the apartment and sent him to the bathroom to shower and change his clothes. Bobo had been locked up in the apartment all day, so she had a dog mess to clean up, too.

Christ, what a miserable day! She felt like screaming. She could barely resist the urge to beat her head against the wall.

CHAPTER FOUR

Marge was washing her hands in the bathroom when Frank, still wearing his paint-speckled work clothes, came in roaring like a playful lion, a fifth of whiskey in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other.

"Hey, Marge! Where are you? Finished that job and I got a pocketful'a money!"

"In here, Frank," she called, and examined her face in the mirror as she dried her hands. She wished she'd had time to freshen her make-up before he saw her.

The big redhead stuck his head in through the open bathroom door. A shit-eating grin came over his face as he glanced from mother to son. Kenny was in the bathtub. "Well, now, ain't this cozy. Does Mama wipe your butt for you too, kid?"

"Frank, please!" Marge whined. "Do you have to talk that way? Kenny doesn't know what to make of you yet."

"That so, boy?" Frank walked up beside the bathtub and grinned down at Kenny. "You scared of me, are you?"

"No!" Kenny shouted, glaring up at him.

"No, sir," Frank said, and laughed as he clouted the boy on the head with the brown paper bag.

"Ouch!" Kenny yelped. Whatever was inside the bag felt hard and soft at the same time. It had wrapped around the back of his head, the end of it slapping against his ear.

"You had no call to hit him!" Marge protested.

Ignoring her, Frank tapped the top of Kenny's head with the bag-concealed object. "Say sir when you answer your elders, boy. Didn't your mama teach you no manners?"

"No, sir!" Kenny hissed. "But I'm still not scared of you!"

Frank let out a howl of delighted laughter and tousled Kenny's sandy, neatly trimmed hair. "Good! I like that. You're all right, Son. Damned if I don't believe me and you'll get on okay, after all." He set the bottle on the floor and approached Marge with the bag held out in front of him. "Bought you a present, baby."

Unsurely Marge reached for the bag, her face brightening a little.

He pushed her hand aside. "Huh-uh, you don't get it till later tonight."

"What did you get me?" she asked. It was the first present he'd ever brought her, and she was pleased despite the fact that he'd been drinking and was in a rough, playful mood. He hadn't really hurt Kenny. In fact, he seemed to be growing fond of her son.

"You'll find out when I give it to you," he replied, his green eyes dancing mischievously as he poked her lightly in the belly with the end of the bag-hidden article. "I think you'll like it, too," he added. Suddenly his hand darted lower. He stuck the bag up under her mini-dress and rubbed it against her crotch.

"Honey, don't!" she squealed, slapping at his arm as she jerked her hips backward. "Kenny's watching us!"

A burst of male laughter rumbled like thunder in the tiny john. "Yeah, baby, sure," he grunted, turning away from her. He picked up the fifth, uncapped it and took a slug from the bottle. Then he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and offered the bottle to Marge.

After what she'd been through today, she needed a drink, but she shook her head no, not wanting to drink in front of her son directly from a bottle.

Frank dropped the bag. It hit the floor with a rattle of paper and a dull thud, bouncing once. He pushed the fifth at her. "Don't be that way, baby. Daddy wants to celebrate. You got to catch up with me if we're gonna have any fun tonight. Take a drink."

"Not in front of Kenny," Marge said.

"Not in front of Kenny!" Frank mocked. He shoved the fifth at her. "I said take a drink, damn it!"

"Honey, please, not out of the bottle, at least!" she whined, backing away.

"Out of the bottle's good enough for you when we're by ourselves and, by damn, it's good enough for you now," he insisted as he backed her into the corner. He cupped the back of her head, tilting the bottle as he pressed its neck against her closed lips. A trickle of whiskey ran down her chin, Marge making noises of protest in her throat as she wrestled ineffectively with his bottle-wielding arm. "Take a drink or I'll pour it in your hair!"

Marge whimpered as she fitted her lips to the rim of the bottle and allowed the strong-tasting amber fluid to flood her mouth. She felt cheap for letting him force it on her, but it was better to take one drink and humor him than to stubbornly refuse and make him sullen and angry for the rest of the evening.

It burned all the way down her throat. Frank was not a connoisseur of fine liquors. He liked to booze it up but he always bought whatever brand of rotgut the liquor store happened to have on sale when he went in.

"That's enough!" she gasped, finally managing to push away the bottle after he'd poured three large gulps of the fiery liquid down her. She hadn't eaten all day. The eighty-proof whiskey hit her empty stomach and sent a warm glow emanating out from it. She was already getting tipsy as she tore off several sheets of toilet tissue with which to blot her mouth and booze-streaked chin. "I hope you're satisfied. Good Lord, Frank, you've got me half-drunk already."

"You're more fun that way, baby," he said, and swatted her playfully on the butt.

Marge giggled. When he took her in his arms, she protested only halfheartedly, then gave up and opened her mouth for him as he pulled up her dress and fondled her lavender-pantied rump in full view of her innocent young son. His prick sprang up to a full erection and, for some strange reason, it gave her a perverted charge to see the expression of tormented jealousy on Kenny's face as she clung to Frank, sucking his tongue, letting him feel up her ass and rub his lovely fat dick against her flip-flopping belly.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" Frank asked, when at long last he broke their spit-swapping kiss and held Marge out at arm's length to look at her.

Her face took on an odd little smile as she shook her head.

"What are you grinning about?"

"I dunno," she chuckled. "I just feel like it."

"Good. You feel like going out to eat? Celebrate a little?"

She nodded. "I'd like that."

"Gotta have a bath and a shave first," Frank said, and he began undressing. "Kid, you about through with the tub?"

"Honey, wait. I'll get Kenny out of the tub and clean it for you, so you can have the bathroom all to yourself. Frank! Don't undress yet!"

But Frank paid her no mind. He stripped in front of her and Kenny, the boy's soulful brown eyes nearly bugging out of his head when he got a good look at the burly redhead's fully erected seven-inch phallus and the huge, copper-haired nutsac dangling below it. "What're you gawkin' at, kid? What'sa'matter, you never seen a hard cock before?"

"Frank, please!" Marge wailed, jumping in front of the man as she held open a towel for her son to step into. "He's just a little boy!"

"Yeah," Frank laughed, "but he's gettin' a few ideas of his own, I'm thinkin'. Take a look at how that little peter of his is standin' at attention."

Hurriedly Marge wrapped the towel around Kenny and whisked him from the john, her cheeks stinging with embarrassment. "For God's sake, Frank, stop it," she called over her shoulder. "Don't tease him that way! It's not healthy, honey!"

"Yeah, sure, baby, anything you say," Frank readily agreed, his resonant voice booming lightheartedly through the apartment. "Guess I did get a little out of line there. Sorry about that."

"Well, I should think so," Marge muttered to herself as she began toweling her son dry. "The very idea!" Then it hit her – Frank had agreed with her, had actually yielded to her superior judgment in matters of decency for once – and she smiled, thinking that at last her persistent efforts to polish away his rough edges and turn him into a gentleman were beginning to pay off.

Little did Marge suspect what sort of lewd fantasies were going on at that moment in the dirty mind of her horny lover, however, lurid things involving her, perverted sex acts that would make the upsetting incident in the bathroom seem like a Sunday School session by comparison.

CHAPTER FIVE

The only vehicle Frank owned was the rattling panel truck in which he stored and transported his ladders and other painting equipment. It looked somewhat out of place as he pulled into the parking lot of a supper club noted for their excellent steak dinners and nosed into a parking space between a low-slung sports car and a gleaming new Cadillac.

Marge would've preferred to arrive at such an expensive place by taxi, but the whiskey was having its effect on her so Frank's old truck didn't embarrass her as much as it might have. Once inside, thanks to the modern custom of casual dress, she felt only slightly conspicuous because of Frank's Levi's, loud sports shirt and scuffed cowboy boots. His face and hands were a bit leathery from exposure to the sun and wind, and Marge fancifully imagined that the well-dressed people around them were mistaking Frank for a wealthy, eccentric young rancher who couldn't care less what anyone thought of his appearance, for indeed he didn't give a damn how he looked and his boisterous manner proved it.

"About time," he gibed good-naturedly when the scantily-clad waitress came to take their order. "Grandma was slow but she was old; what's your excuse?"

"I'm handicapped, sir," the young woman shot back at him pleasantly. "I'm built too close to the ground. It sort of slows me down."

Frank's booming laughter momentarily drowned out the dinner music and conversation around them. "You're built, all right, short stuff."

Marge felt like sliding down under the table.

The waitress smiled politely: "Would you like to order now, sir?"

"Yeah, give us each a T-bone with all the trimmings. The best you got."

"I can give you a child's plate for the boy," the waitress said, her pencil poised above her pad.

"Nah, don't shortchange my buddy there. Give him the works. If he don't eat it all, we can take the leavings home to Bozo in a doggy bag, right, Kenny boy?"

Kenny nodded. "His name's Bobo," he corrected.

"Bozo fits him better," Frank grinned. "He's a clown like short stuff here."

The waitress was no longer smiling. "How would you like your steak, sir?"

"Medium rare, all three of 'em. That's the only way to eat good steak."

The waitress looked questioningly at Marge, who nodded agreement although she would've preferred hers and Kenny's steaks to be cooked well done.

"Would you like to order cocktails or wine now?"

"I'll have a dry martini," Marge said. She was mortified by Frank's lack of manners in such a posh place as this. "On second thought," she added, "please make that a double."

"Hey, that's the spirit, baby," Frank said, much too loudly. "Live it up."

"A double for you, too, sir?"

"Hell, no, I don't go for that fancy stuff. Bring me a cold bottle of Coors, and a Coke for the kid. That suit you, Kenny, old buddy?"

Kenny looked at his mother. She usually made him drink milk with his meals. "Is that okay, Mama? Can I have a Coke this time? Or do I have to drink milk?"

"Sure it's okay," Frank told him without waiting for Marge to answer. "I said it was, didn't I?"

The boy got his Coke with no objections from his mother. Marge wasn't about to cross Frank for fear he would make a scene in public. Actually, Frank's behavior was true to his character. It was just that here, in the midst of elegant surroundings and well-mannered people, Marge noticed it more. She felt as if they were stuck out like a sore thumb, and that everyone was secretly laughing at them.

When their food came, Frank attacked his steak like a starved savage, actually picking up the bone toward the end to uncouthly tear off the remaining meat with his teeth. His atrocious table manners embarrassed Marge to the point where she ordered another double martini.

Thank goodness he didn't tuck his napkin into his shirt collar for a bib, she thought. It was a mistake, coming here to eat. I'll never let him bring me to another nice place like this, until after we're married and I've taught him some dining etiquette.

When they left the supper club, Marge was well on her way to becoming potted.

"What'a'ya say we park the kid at the apartment and come back here to dance for a while?" Frank suggested as he started the truck's engine.

There's no way you're going to get me back in there, Marge felt like saying, but instead she begged off, explaining that she was pooped from job hunting all day. "All I want to do is collapse on the couch and kick off these shoes, and go to bed soon as the late news is over."

"Sure, baby, whatever you say," Frank agreed, grinning to himself.

He stopped at a liquor store on the way home, bought another fifth of on-sale whiskey and a bottle of chilled wine.

"Take Bobo down to the alley so he can go to the bathroom, Kenny, and feed him the steak down there," Marge said as they entered the apartment, and just as she'd said she wanted to do, she plopped down on the couch and kicked off her shoes, sighing with relief as she rubbed one stockinged foot with the other.

Glasses rattled in the kitchen. Marge supposed Frank was making them a nightcap. Good, she thought fuzzily, I can use another drink. God, I'm tired! She lit a cigarette and took a deep, lung-biting drag.

There was a nagging, troublesome question in the back of her mind. How could she love the handsome redhead and yet be ashamed of the big lug in public? It hadn't occurred to her that the trauma of being deserted by her husband had caused her to latch onto the first seemingly strong man who appealed to her, or that her attraction to Frank might be nothing more than animal magnetism due to her sex-starved condition when they'd first met.

Kenny and Bobo were reentering the apartment when Frank returned to the living room carrying three water glasses. He had rotgut on the rocks for Marge and himself, and a mild, sweet red wine for Kenny. He told Marge it was strawberry soda pop but winked conspiratorially at the boy as he handed him the glass.

Although he didn't know what his glass contained, one sip was enough to convince Kenny that he liked it. He grinned and winked back at Frank. First a Coke with his supper and now this, whatever it was, that Frank wanted him to have but hinted that his mother mustn't know what it really was because if she knew she wouldn't let him have it. They were putting something over on her, him and Frank, and Kenny was beginning to like the big man. Frank had called him his buddy, and the way he was treating him now made the boy feel big and important.

In no time the wine had Kenny feeling all warm and funny-like on the inside. After he gave a couple of inappropriate giggles, Marge smelled a rat and took a sip from his glass.

"Why, that's wine!" she cried. "Frank, how could you? He's only nine!"

With a burst of laughter, Frank told her, "Don't get your bowels in an uproar, baby. It's just Strawberry Hill. Only nine percent alcohol. Now can that hurt him? Hell no, so pipe down and let my buddy have a little fun, too. We're celebrating, remember?"

"But I don't want Kenny drinking!" she wailed, and started to get up with Kenny's half-full glass and her nearly empty one in her hands.

"You know what your problem is, Marge?" Frank drawled, holding her down on the couch between himself and Kenny. "You're too damned sober."

"I'm half drunk and you know it," Marge protested. "Let me up, Frank. It's time for the news. I want to turn on the TV."

"Piss on the news," he said. "What you need is another drink." He wrenched the glasses from her hands, gave Kenny back his wine, and instead of refilling Marge's glass, he picked up the fifth of whiskey and held it to her mouth. "Come on now. Open up and take a drink for Daddy. You're all uptight, baby. It'll help you relax."

Marge took a swallow to humor him.

But Frank wasn't letting her off that easy. He cupped the back of her head, the way he'd done in the bathroom earlier, and kept the bottle, perhaps a third full, tilted against her lips, his resonant voice droning, "That'a girl. Take another swallow. Another. Don't stop now, baby. A little more. You know you need it. Just one more swallow. Come on, it'll make you feel better."

"Unn… glub, glub… noom… glub, glub… unn-nnnn… glub, glub… huh-uhhhhh… glub, glub… UNN, UNN… glub, glub, glub." She struggled and whimpered, thrashing about desperately, but it did her no good.

His hamlike hand held her head securely as he eased the neck of the bottle into her mouth and poured the fiery liquid down the throat of the piteously protesting woman, forcing her to choke or swallow.

The burning sensation in her rapidly working throat brought tears to Marge's eyes. Frantically she dug her fingernails into the wrist of his bottle-wielding arm, causing him to wince and mutter a curse, but he didn't let up on her. When at last he pulled the bottle from her mouth, it was empty.

"My God!" she croaked, and plunged her face into her hands, coughing and sputtering, fighting to catch her breath. "You made… me drink… it all!"

"Wasn't much left anyway," he chuckled. "Don't worry about it, sugar. Got another full one right here beside the couch. Want a slug out of it?"

"Goddamn it, Frank! No!" she husked, her hands shaking as she angrily fired up a cigarette. The room was spinning around her. Her throat felt raw. There was a bonfire in her stomach. She feared she was going to be sloppy drunk before she even finished her smoke. "Why the hell did you have to pour all that booze down me?!" she wailed, batting her eyelids in an attempt to clear her tear-misted vision.

Frank winked at Marge's tipsy son as he took her in his arms, cuddling her tenderly but offering no excuse for his actions. By the time she finished her cigarette, she was stoned out of her gourd, which was exactly the way Frank wanted her.

He began working her up, hugging her, Frenching her ear and stroking the nylon-sheathed columns of her long, lovely legs. At first Marge protested that she didn't want her little boy to see them carrying on this way, but Frank repeatedly silenced her with kisses. Marge pushed weakly at his chest, then finally whimpered submissively and started sucking his tongue as he fed it to her like a cautious, slippery snake.

Awareness of her son's presence faded gradually from Marge's alcohol-dulled mind. She couldn't remain angry with Frank, especially when she was in his masterful embrace, their tongues wrestling about in one another's mouths while his hand wedged insistently between her knees. She allowed him to pry her legs apart and, clinging to him, she uttered a purring noise as his work-callused hand caressed its way slowly but surely up the inside of her nearest thigh, his palm whistling faintly over the sheer nylon of her flesh-toned stocking.

The boy's curious eyes weren't missing a thing. He had a tight, nervous half-smile on his young face. The way Frank kept glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, giving him an occasional wink, made Kenny feel that he was somehow a part of these intimate goings on. He didn't know what to make of the way Frank and his mother were behaving, but he wasn't nearly so jealous this time. He and Frank were buddies now, so as long as his mother didn't mind the way Frank was kissing her and rubbing her leg, he guessed it was all right with him, too, although he couldn't understand why having her leg rubbed would make his mother squirm around so much and keep sighing all the time.

"Mmmm," Marge murmured, when Frank began kneading the exposed portion of creamy-textured thigh above the topband of her hose.

For a moment Frank dallied scant inches short of his primary objective, furtively watching the boy's mesmerized expression as he coaxed the mother's shapely legs farther apart. When he was convinced that Kenny's soulful brown eyes were riveted to the lust-inciting action of his hand, he cupped Marge's crotch and started stroking her clefted mound through the thin strip of secretion-moistened nylon of her lavender-colored panties.

"Ooooh," she sighed, smiling with her eyes closed as she spread her legs wider and savored the sensual pleasure of having her pussy petted.

She'd completely forgotten about her son by this time. She was drunk, hot and bothered, hardly knew where she was. Marge had no idea how long Frank teased her panty-covered box, but it was delicious, the kind of petting her husband used to give her in the early days of their marriage. She was thoroughly enjoying this unaccustomed treat. Far as she was concerned – she was feeling not thinking – she was perfectly content to have this exquisite moment go on forever.

But this wasn't Frank's intention. He had much bigger and – to him – better things on his vulgar mind. He was petting her puss for the same ulterior motive that'd made him force liquor down her. She was drunk enough for his purpose, all right, and now that he had her so worked up the crotchband of her panties was soaked with the slimy/slick proof of her passionate desire, it was time to move on.

He broke their tongue-entangled kiss and pecked along her cheek toward her ear, deliberately working his head in between her and the boy so as to shut off any possible view she might get to remind her Kenny was sitting on the couch with them. Knowing it would melt her, he covered her ear with his mouth and thrust in his hot tongue, swirling it around wetly in the delicate whorls.

"Ouuu, Daddy!" she whimpered, hugging him tight.

"Raise that sweet ass, baby," he whispered. "Let me get those damned panties off you."

The toes of her stockinged feet pressed down into the threadbare carpet as she used the floor for leverage to lift her rear end for him.

Swiftly he hiked her mini-dress up to her trim waist and hooked the fingers of both hands into the elastic waistband of her sheer step-ins. The edges of his front teeth captured her erogenous earlobe, making her shiver and moan with desire as he tugged her panties over the flare of her hips and whisked the protective undergarment down the alluring curves of her upraised, slightly parted legs. He pushed her lace-trimmed briefs past her knees and let the weight of their secretion-drenched crotchband pull them on down to her feet.

"That hot twat's good and juicy now, ain't it?" he breathed.

"Uh-huh!" she cooed, burying her face in the crook of his neck as she kicked away her lavender drawers.

"Got you good and hot, have I?"

"I'll say," she moaned, and fastened her mouth leechlike to his throat, biting him and sucking his flesh.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged, grinning at Marge's naive but excited young son as he pushed her legs wide apart and tugged her squirming rump out to the edge of the cushion. "Brand me with your love mark."

Motioning for Kenny – who'd already finished his wine and set the glass on the floor – to be quiet, Frank took the tipsy lad's hand and ran it up his mother's nylon-clad thigh. He drew it higher, working it in a circular motion over the warm, creamy skin of her perspiration-moistened inner thighs above the tops of her stockings.

Kenny's eyes were like saucers now, his body shaking with a mixture of strange, frighteningly powerful emotions which he'd never experienced before. The corners of his fearfully trembling lips were curled up in a tight, timid smile of uncertainty. With great difficulty he ripped his hypnotic gaze from the fascinating hairy crack between his mother's legs and glanced up questioningly at the big redheaded man.

"It's all right," Frank mouthed silently, his green eyes glinting devilishly from the charge he was getting out of this. "Do you want to feel her pussy?" his lips asked wordlessly.

"I don't know!" Kenny replied in kind, whispering just a tiny bit on the last word. He did want to, but he was scared. His mother had always been careful to keep that part of herself hidden from him, so he knew it was a secret, forbidden place. And by the sneaky way Frank was acting, he could tell they were doing something naughty to his mother, something she would never permit if she knew what Frank was up to.

But Frank didn't leave the decision up to the boy. This was one of his perverted fantasies and he was too close to seeing it come true to stop now. As a boy of twelve, Frank used to dream of playing with that hairy hole between his own mother's legs, and later, in his teens, of fucking it; he'd never gotten the chance to do either, but the thought of any kid diddling his own old lady made Frank wild to see it happening.

The fact that Kenny was scared shitless only made it all the more exciting for Frank as he forced the child's small, reluctant hand the rest of the way up between her legs and brushed it against the puffy, brownish folds of her vulnerable, secretion-moistened sex slot.

Kenny whimpered and sucked in his breath, but it went unheard because of Marge's nasal sigh of longing. Had she realized the vile trick that was being pulled on her, she would've been shocked to the core of her inhibited being. In her present state of lustful desire, however, Marge's alcohol-dulled mind failed to detect the difference between the disparately proportioned hands of her lover and son.

And Frank took full advantage of the lewd situation, too. Excitedly he guided the boy's hand over the mother's privates, combing the tiny, trembling fingers through the crisp, dark brown curls adorning the womanly mound above her distended vulval opening, forcing them to stroke up and down through the slippery folds of Marge's fatty labia before he finally sank two of Kenny's timid fingers into the velvety softness of her feverish, sticky-wet pussy.

"Mmmmmm!" Marge moaned, still clinging to Frank and sucking his neck.

"Do you like that?" Frank asked aloud, watching the expression on Kenny's face as it mirrored the lad's sudden surge of excitement. "It feels good, don't it?"

Kenny nodded, and Marge, thinking Frank's question was meant for her, quit sucking his neck long enough to say, "Mmmm, it sure does!" Then her lips pressed hungrily to a new hunk of neckflesh and she drew it into her mouth to suck and chew.

"Christ, this is rich!" Frank chortled, and he started masturbating the unsuspecting mother with her son's fingers. After a dozen or so pumping motions, he asked, "You got the idea now?" and when Kenny nodded, he released the kid's wrist and left him on his own.

While the tipsy child eagerly finger-fucked his inebriated mother, Frank slipped his hands behind her and began undressing her. He had her dress unzipped and her bra unhooked before it dawned on Marge that both his hands were busy divesting her of her clothes. But her alcohol- and lust-fogged mind was too sluggish to immediately grasp what was going on. Pondering how one of Frank's hands could, be in two places at the same time, she quit sucking on his neck and murmured, "Frank? Frank?" as she drew back her head, blinking to get him in focus.

"Yeah, baby?" He had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.

"You've got… both hands behind me… haven't you?" Her speech faltered due to her drunken condition, but her words themselves were only slightly slurred.

"Yeah, guess I have at that," he admitted, his voice quavering with the need to break loose and vent his perverted glee.

"But you're still… how can you be…?" Marge's voice trailed off as her soggy brain cells filtered out the truth of the matter. If Frank had both hands behind her back, then the hand between her legs couldn't possibly belong to him. It had to be someone else's… and there was only one other person's it could be. "Oh, no!" she moaned, suddenly recalling that her son had been sitting beside her when Frank had begun loving her up. She didn't want to believe what her mind told her had to be happening. Not her own son! It just couldn't be!

"Oh, yeah!" Frank howled as he pulled away from her abruptly and jerked her head down, presenting her with an unobstructed view of the action between her legs.

The shock of discovering that it was her son's small hand pumping all that carnal pleasure into her aroused snatch left Marge stunned speechless for what seemed like an eternity but was actually only seconds. It was insanely wicked, too horribly perverted for words. Kenny was jabbing his small fingers in and out of her like a little fiend, the grin on his childish face reminding her of the Devil himself; and despite the horror of her outraged mind, Marge's feverish pussy insisted that it felt absolutely terrific anyway!

"Oh,no! My God, noooh! Oh,my Goddd!!" she wailed, and with righteous indignation she shoved Kenny away and hurled herself up from the couch of her shame, intending to turn on Frank and claw his eyes out for degrading her and her innocent son in such a despicable fashion.

But she had no strength, and precious little control of her muscles. To Marge's utter consternation, she heard Frank laughing like a fool as she found herself staggering crazily about the tilting room in a desperate attempt to maintain her equilibrium. She lost. Her rubber-kneed legs gave way and her ass hit the floor with a jolting thud. "Oooff!" she grunted, and helpless as a newborn baby, she toppled ignominiously onto her side, her unzipped dress having slipped down off her shoulders by this time.

Marge felt dizzy and weak. It took great effort just to struggle up into a sitting position. In the process, her unzipped dress slipped down nearly to her waist, trapping her arms at her side. She jerked at her dress, trying to pull it back up. Her movement caused the straps of her unhooked brassiere to slip down from her shoulders, and the freed bra cups spilled her foam rubber falsies into her lap.

"Shit!" she wailed in frustration, and began crying.

Her hair was mussed up. She was half undressed, in a state of total disarray, sobbing with anger and humiliation. The flood of salty tears liquefied her mascara. It began running in zagged, dark brown streaks down her quivering white cheeks.

Bobo, who'd been investigating Kenny's sudden appearance on the floor beside him, walked over to Marge now, his tail wagging, and began licking her face.

"Goddamn it, get away!" she whined, and extricating her arms from her fallen dress and bra, she shoved the German shepherd with one hand and slapped at his head with the other.

Normally Kenny felt sorry for his mother when she cried, but not this time. His feelings were hurt by the way she'd yelled and shoved him off the couch. And he was mad at her, too. Long as she'd thought it was Frank playing with her old pussy, she'd liked it; but she'd thrown a fit soon as she saw it was him doing it. Her reaction had made the boy almost insanely jealous again. It wasn't Frank who was trying to shut him out of their relationship; it was her! No matter what his mother had said, the wine-high child was now convinced that she loved Frank better than she did him. He was furious with her. If she let Frank play with her pussy, why wouldn't she let him? Especially since Frank didn't mind, and must have even wanted him to, for the man had put his hand on her there and showed him how to do it.

Frank was bent over double now, pointing at Marge, laughing uproariously and slapping his knees. And Frank was Kenny's buddy, so the boy began imitating the man.

"That'a boy," Frank told him. "You want'a fuck her?"

"Huh?" Kenny had heard the word, but he didn't know what it meant.

"Put your peter in her pussy and pump it in and out, the way you saw me doing this mornin'. You want to?"

Kenny shrugged. He sort of wanted to try that, but he was afraid his mother wouldn't like it.

"Maybe I'll let you," Frank said, picking up the unopened fifth beside the couch as he returned his attention to Marge, who at that moment fell again, cursing, as she was trying to get up. Her dress had slid down to her knees and tripped her.

Frank thought it was hilarious. He laughed so hard tears formed in his eyes as he twisted off the bottle cap, breaking the seal as he did so. When he lifted the bottle, taking several large pulls of the cheap whiskey, he couldn't shut off his laughter completely. Some of the rotgut ran down his chin and dribbled off onto his lap.

"Potent stuff!" he croaked, and offered the bottle to Kenny as he swiped the back of his hand across his mouth.

The lad took the bottle. Imitating his "buddy", he raised it to his lips and filled his mouth with the fiery liquid. His eyes snapped wide open and he spewed the whiskey back out. "Bleah!"

"Yeah, know what you mean, kid!" Frank guffawed.

Abruptly he snatched the fifth from Kenny's hand and recapped it. He quit laughing. His face took on an evil smirk as he set the bottle on the floor and reached under the couch for the paper bag he'd hidden there earlier, the one he'd said contained a present for Marge.

"Hey, Marge," he called, waving the bag at her as he got up off the couch, staggering a little, and started toward her. "Time for me to give you your present, baby."

"You know what… you can do with… your Goddamn present!" she muttered without looking up. She'd managed to push herself up into a kneeling position. The hem of her mini-dress was trapped beneath her knees. She was tugging at it, futilely attempting to pull it back up over her exposed tits.

The six-foot-three redhead weaved his way over to the kneeling, pitiful-looking, half-naked woman. Her mascara streaked cheeks made her look like a clown, what with her disheveled brunette hair framing her face in such a mussed-up manner. He lifted his leg, placed the sole of his scuffed cowboy boot on her bare shoulder and toppled her over to the floor again.

"Goddamn you!" she whined, landing in a very undignified heap on her side.

With the pointed toe of his boot, Frank nudged Marge onto her back. Then he dropped to his knees, straddling her midsection, and opened the brown paper bag. His green eyes glinted with perverted lust as he whipped out her "present" and showed it to her.

Marge stared in horrified disbelief. The object Frank held in his hand was the most obscene thing she'd ever seen. It was a huge artificial cock, easily a foot long and as big around as Marge's wrist. The head was nearly the size of her fist. It was made of a dull-sheened, jet-black rubber, the consistency of which simulated an erected phallus. The shaft was festooned with prominent, vein-like ridges. The massive, mushrooming head had a pencil-sized hole in the end of it, from which an unseen plastic tube traversed the center of the shaft, connecting the glans with a rubber bulb that served as a single, grotesque testicle. Beyond the flared base of the shaft, there was a narrower handle, by which Frank held the monster dildo.

"Where did you get that… that monstrosity?!" Marge gasped.

"Friend of mine's got a dental lab," he said with a lecherous grin. "Had him make it special for you, baby. You like it? Want'a kiss it before I give it to you?"

CHAPTER SIX

"Frank, nooh! You can't be… serious! Good Lord, that thing… would split me!"

"Horseshit. Ain't you been tellin' me how you wish mine was a foot long and twice as big around? Well, that's exactly the size I had my old buddy make this for you."

"But-but… I didn't mean it!" she wailed.

"Aw, come off it, Marge. You can't bullshit an old bullshitter like me. You know damned well you want this crammed up that hot little belly of yours, and you might as well admit it, 'cause I'm gonna give it to you whether you do or not."

"Frank, please! I didn't mean it!"

"You want'a lick it first? Get it nice and slick with spit?" he asked, and pushed the bluntly rounded end of the coal-black head between her tremulous red oral petals.

Marge swung her arm and knocked the offensive thing away from her mouth. "Stop it,Frank! I don't know… what's got into you tonight… but this insanity has… gone too damned far already! Now leave me alone!"

"You fuckin' slut!" he hissed, and slapped her hard, his palm effecting a loud SPLAT as it contacted her cheek and snapped her head to the side. "Where do you get off talkin' to me like that? You said you wanted one a foot long and twice as big around as mine! Well, Goddamn it, woman, I paid good money to have this made for you! Just exactly the way you said you wished my cock was! And I intend to use it on you! At least once! Even if I have to hogtie you to do it! You understand me?"

Marge nodded fearfully, blinking up at him through tear-misted eyes. "But, Frank, I can't… possibly ta-take that thing!" she whined. "Haven't you done enough… to me already? What are you… trying to do? Kill my love for you?"

"A big fat dick is all you love!" he slurred cruelly. He'd had too much to drink now, too, and the whiskey was bringing out the mean streak in him, the side of his personality that Marge had only caught glimpses of before. "Well, by damn, I got a whopper of a one for you, and you're gonna take it!"

He ripped her expensive dress off her, ruining it forever. All the cringing woman had on now was her garter belt and nylon stockings. To Frank, she was more sexy-looking that way than she ever could be bare-assed naked, so he left her feminine hose and their supporting garment on her. He pried apart her legs and knelt between them, then leaning over her, he captured a tender nipple between his thumb and forefinger and pinched down on it sadistically. When her mouth flew open to scream, he stuffed the huge head of the ugly dildo into it.

"Suck it, bitch!" he hissed. "Suck on that black motherfucker or I'll tear this little girl's titty plumb off you!"

The way he was yanking her breast around by the nipple, it felt to Marge as if he were already tearing it out by the roots. Great flashes of searing pain blasted through her. Her cunt gave an-involuntary gulp, ejecting an equally involuntary surge of clear cuntal juices.

God help me! she groaned inwardly, for the sudden burst of sexual pain made her shiver with masochistic delight. The perverted bliss of it overwhelmed her.

Yes, yes! Tear it off me! she felt like yelling as, her son and her sense of decency forgotten, she grabbed the dildo's thick shaft with both hands. Her slender white fingers tried in vain to completely encompass the wrist-thick black rod. She began slavishly sucking the vulgar head, her soft red lips fighting to take more of the dildo into her mouth.

Evidently the rubber wasn't fully cured, for it had a raw, sharp tang to it. Marge didn't mind the foul taste of it. She was totally caught up in her fit of masochistic ecstasy. So long as Frank kept hurting her tits, he was her master and she was his sniveling slave.

When he turned loose of the rubber phallus, she held it herself and kept sucking it fervently. He grabbed her other nipple and started jerking at both of her tender tittles.

"Lick it!" he ordered. "Coat it with spit!"

Immediately she obeyed, pulling the bulbous head from her mouth with a loud, lascivious slurping noise. "Oh, shit, this is insane!" she said, as her pink tongue began lapping lewdly at the obscene black shaft, applying saliva which she knew was to serve as a lubricant when he tried to stuff the monster up her. "But don't stop! Aaaggghhhh! Hurt me, hhuurrtt mmeeee!!!"

She wasn't the first of his girlfriends to beg for more in the heat of passion. He wondered how Marge would take to a good whipping with his broad, silver-studded belt. Then he decided, Nah, not in front of her kid. I'll save that for some other time. It's roughing up her boobs that turns Marge on the most! So he continued to punish her breasts, making her moan and whimper piteously as she gladly licked every inch of the black horsecock he'd made for her till the entire shaft and glans glistened wetly with a coating of her slippery, bubbly spit.

When he was satisfied with the way she'd prepared it for her puss, Frank released Marge's tits, grasped the dildo by its handle and wrenched it out of her hands. The testicular bulb was filled with milk, to which clear gelatin had been added to give it a cummy consistency. Aiming the glans at her nose, Frank compressed the bulb and sent a stream of the gluey substance splattering over her face.

Marge didn't complain or even ask what it was. All she did was whimper submissively and bat her eyes. If she had any desire to wipe the glutinous splotches off her face, she failed to act on it.

"It wo-won't fit!" she stammered, when Frank began working the forefront of the hard-rubber cockhead into the impossibly small opening between her pushed-apart legs.

"I'll make it fit, baby," he replied huskily, his hands shaking with excitement as he watched the huge glans sinking into the yielding softness of her well-lubricated cuntal orifice.

"Aaaggghhhh! Please, Frank, nooh!You're tearing me!" she whined.

Only the front half of the mushrooming crown was into her, and her brownish labia were already stretched tautly about it.

"Don't sweat it, baby!" Frank told her, although the firm/soft shaft was beginning to bow as he increased the pressure. "Puss'll stretch a mile 'fore it'll tear an inch!"

Beads of sweat were forming on Frank's upper lip and forehead as he grasped the front part of the shaft with his left hand and began pushing harder, trying to force her elliptical slot open with the gigantic head of the artificial penis.

"Aaaarrgghhhh!" Marge groaned, her heels and hands digging at the threadbare carpet as she scooted backward in a frantic attempt to escape the unbearable pain in her loins.

"Hold still, Goddamn it! Take it, take it!" the redhead hissed as he crawled after her, jabbing the dildo cruelly at her elusive crack.

Each time he tried to stuff it up her, the massive crown sank a fraction of an inch deeper into her hairy hole, dilating her secreting gap a tiny bit more. By the time Marge's head hanged against the couch, addling her momentarily, her suffering cuntflesh had been stretched sufficiently to take all but the flared base of the mushrooming knob.

With success in sight and Marge temporarily unable to defend herself, Frank redoubled his efforts, callously disregarding the woman's obvious, extreme discomfort as he grunted and shoved, grunted and shoved, making her scream out in agony from the brutality of his repeated attempts to drive the fistlike cockhead into her tiny, pain-wracked pussy.

The German shepherd growled menacingly and bared his teeth. Frank ignored the animal's threat. Kenny, who now feared for his mother's life, leaped onto her tormentor's back and, yelling for him to leave her alone, began beating the man about the head and shoulders with his small, ineffective fists. Frank didn't seem to realize he was being attacked.

Sweat was pouring down Frank's face now. The cords stood out along the sides of his neck. His green eyes were glassy with sadistic lust. If it killed Marge, he wasn't going to let up until he'd buried the enormous rubber dong up inside her quaking, perspiration-sheened body.

"Mercy! Dear God…have mercy on meee!" Marge begged. The red-hot pain of it blinded her. She was sure he was ripping her groin apart. "Ica-can't stand this!Frank! Stop! Pul-eezzzeee ssttooppp… oh, God, God…you're splitting me… wide open! Unnn-ggaaahhhhh! It's too big! I can't… ttaakkeee iittt!!"

Frank's face was as twisted with lust as Marge's was with the horrible agony he was inflicting upon her. Short of the dog actually attacking him, which it didn't seem that Bobo was ferocious enough to do, nothing could stop the powerful redhead from attaining his lurid goal.

Poor Marge's suffering cuntlips were stretched to the limit of tissue-paper thinness when finally the tufted coronal ridge at the rear of the doorknob-sized crown burst through her cringing portal.

"Naaaa-ggaaaahhhhhhhhh!!" she cried, her body jerking reflexively as her elastic labia snapped down around the invading shaft, locking the monstrous cockhead securely inside her too-small pussy.

The momentum of Frank's vicious thrust brought his dildo-gripping left hand crashing against Marge's sweat and secretion-moistened crotch, causing him to grunt and her to scream: "Aaaaaiiiiieeeee!!" Then she sucked in her breath raggedly, her vanquished torso shuddering helplessly as she heaved a guttural groan, "Aaaarrrrrggggghhhhhh!!"

Now that he had the head and a fraction of the shaft into her, Frank paused. "Get off my back, Kenny, old buddy," he told the boy. "I'm not hurting your mama. She likes it. Don't you like it, Marge?"

"Ohhhhhhhh!" Marge moaned, absently licking her lips as the expression on her face began to change. The bulbous glans was inside her, and the shaft, although its circumference was twice that of a man's prick, was sufficiently less girthful by comparison to relieve the terrible strain of her brutally stretched vaginal entrance. To her amazement, the searing pain vanished immediately and a flush of bittersweet carnal pleasure invaded her feverish loins.

"Feels good now, don't it?" Frank demanded.

"Ohhh, you bastard!" she rasped. Her eyes blinked open, shimmering glassily as she focused upon the brutish redhead's smirking visage. Her confused son was standing behind him, peering intently over Frank's shoulder at her, his concerned gaze darting back and forth from her face to her crotch. She didn't want her innocent little boy to see her this way, but for some inexplicable reason his presence only added to the illicit thrill that was flooding over her and immersing her against her will in a vulgar mood of sheer sexual wantonness.

"I knew that hot twat of yours could take it, baby," Frank said. "I'm gonna slip it on into you now. You ready?"

He sank an inch of the wicked instrument into her, the vein-ridged shaft making the gripping circle of her hair-rimmed orifice flutter submissively. Despite the sordidness of what he was doing to her, it did feel good, and there was nothing Marge could do about it.

Unable to help herself, the drunken wife and mother closed her eyes to shut out the shame-evoking sight of her son and, her torso shivering with lewd delight, she heaved a whimper-like sob of unconditional surrender and spread her legs wider so as to give her adulterous lover full access to her vulnerable loins.

"You like the way it feels? Tell me, baby!"

"Yesss! Oh, I do!" she sighed.

"I thought so," he gloated. "You want more?"

She nodded eagerly, her red lips trembling with anticipation. Her fluted sex petals folded in around the oversized shaft as he pushed two more inches of it into her slippery split.

"More!" she gasped, the white moons of her rump quivering as she squirmed with the urgency of her sensual desire.

He jiggled the artificial penis to tease her now that he had her wanting it, and told her, "Speak up, baby. Daddy can't hear you."

"More!" she cried shamelessly. "More, more! Christ, you're gonna… ruin me with that thing, but I… don't care now! Give me some… more of itt!!"

"Now you're talkin', little tits!" he chortled, and jammed it to her.

The huge glans barreled up her snug vagina, stretching the wet-velvet walls as they'd never been stretched before. With a thud that could be heard outside of her body, the bluntly rounded knob banged joltingly against the tender neck of her pear-shaped uterus. It fairly took her breath away.

"Aaaahhhhhh, Goddd!!" she puled, bowing up. Then she fell back chewing her lower lip, going, "Unn… unn… unn!" as she sucked air hissingly through her teeth, for Frank was grunting: "Take it, bitch, take it!" while he rammed the enormous rubber phallus in and out of the dilated gap between Marge's shaking, nylon-clad legs.

There was nothing she could do but take it. He was hurting her again, but this time the hurting was deep inside her, and so Godawful good that she had no desire to stop him. The forefront of the gigantic dildo's glans banged rapid-fire against the hypersensitive mouth of her womb each time he shoved it into her. She could feel it displacing her uterus, pushing that most feminine of all her female organs higher and higher up into her abdominal cavity.

"More… aaah, God…mmoorreee!!" she cried raggedly.

It was incredible to Marge – who'd always prided herself on being a lady – that she could even permit much less respond to this crude type of blatantly obscene misuse of her body, but she wouldn't deny that it was giving her the wildest sexual thrill of her life. That huge prick might be made of rubber but it felt real, and the glorious way it plumbed her depths was literally setting her on fire with perverted lust.

She opened her eyes and gazed up at her young son, silently imploring the lad not to hate her for this. The boy didn't see her face, though. He was too busy gawking at her crotch in obvious enthrallment as Frank continued to plunge the glistening black dildo in and out of the hairy gash between her twitching lower limbs.

"God help us!" she wailed, realizing that her son was becoming excited, too. "Kenny, Don't Look! Ohhh,ohhhhhh! Go in the… unn-uuunnnnnn… bathroom… and close the… doooorrr!!"

"Stay put, old buddy," Frank told him, and grinning evilly at Marge, he pulled the child down beside her and pushed his head to within a foot of her cunt. "Can you see better now, Kenny? Watch your mama's pussy! See how it gobbles up this big motherfucker!"

Kenny was all eyes, his mouth hanging open in premature lust as he watched the giant artificial penis shuttling swiftly in and out of her fascinating pussy.

"Frank, nooh!" Marge whined piteously. "Make him go away! Don't let my… ahhhhh… little boy… see me… oh, shit, shitttt… like tthhihsss!!"

The redhead delighted in hearing her beg, and her motherly concern – not at being hosed with a dildo but because he was jabbing it up her in front of her kid – made this particular fantasy-come-true all the more enjoyable for him. So far he'd only been able to work nine of the rubber cock's twelve inches into her small penile receptacle. Suddenly he jammed it into her extra hard, and a tenth inch disappeared into the cringing circle of her hair-fringed orifice.

"Uuunnnggghhhhhhhh!!!" Marge grunted, her red lips drawing back over her white teeth. It felt like he was ramming an arm up her, and it hurt so unbelievably good! A shudder wracked her feverish, sweat-oozing torso. Her long, red-lacquered fingernails dug into her palms, and moaning piteously, she flung an arm over her eyes to shut out the guilt-evoking sight of her child's lustful expression.

"Take it, take it!" Frank husked, the muscles in his arm straining with the effort as he kept shoving the huge dildo up her.

"Aaaah… God, God!" Marge bleated, her wide-flung, nylon-encased legs shaking helplessly from the roughness of Frank's perverted attack upon her defenseless vagina.

The vein-ridged shaft sawed incessantly away at the fluttering, tautly-stretched ring of her sex-wetted opening, its fistlike glans boring deeper into her belly with each new thrust. She had neither the strength nor the will to resist her brutal lover's ruinous assault. It made her feel like a horrible tramp for her son to see her this way, but her breath was coming in great sobbing gasps which made it impossible for her to even protest the indignity being perpetrated upon her.

Thump, thump, thump! The hard-rubber crown of the mammoth dong battered away at her tender cervix, lengthening the barrel of her silky sheath as it pounded her womb higher and higher up her abdominal cavity. It felt as if he were shoving it clear up into her chest!

And he damned near was, for she'd been dilated to the point where she was taking all but about a half an inch of the foot-long monster now. The immense size of the artificial penis had rearranged her internal organs and stretched the elastic walls of her hidden tunnel almost to the limit of their endurance, but Frank wouldn't be satisfied until he'd impaled her with the entire twelve inches of the ebony obscenity.

With the attainment of his lecherous goal in sight, the redhead began backing inch after vulgar inch of the wrist-thick rubber pole out of Marge, his green eyes glinting evilly, as he watched her inflamed sex petals draw out salaciously around the girth of the retreating, secretion-coated shaft, as if they couldn't bear to part with it for even a split second now that they'd been forced to accept it. The quivering ring of her crimson labia minora prevented complete withdrawal, for they were gripping the ridged shaft so tightly that its bulbous glans was actually locked inside her vagina by the giglike flare of its broad coronal rim. Frank gave a couple of tugs, making Marge groan mournfully as her distended hole clung tenaciously to the huge organ. Then he gave up and allowed her to keep the glans, deciding it would be too much trouble to work it back into her. He released the dildo's handle; mopping sweat off his brow as he reached for the fifth of whiskey.

The weight of the artificial prick protruding from Marge's crotch caused it to droop swiftly until the testicular bulb contacted the worn carpet between her stockinged legs. The void it left inside her created a vacuum which began slowly sucking the uneven shaft of the massive black instrument in through the tremulous portal of her juiced-up pussy. She was hanging on the verge of an orgasm, half out of her mind with drunken lust.

"Ooooh! Don't stop now, Goddamn it!" she pleaded, her buttocks clenching and relaxing as she rotated her rump wantonly. "You've already… aaaah… ruined me, you bastard… so put it… back in me! Oh, Daddy, dooo! Shoveit up… my ccuunnttt!!"

He recapped the bottle, blowing wind from the big, burning slug of rotgut he'd downed. "You go for that horsecock now, do you?" he taunted as he set the bottle of booze aside.

"Yes, yes… I love it… can't help it!" she whined.

"'Course you can't help it, baby," he gibed cruelly. "Know why? 'Cause you're all cunt, that's why! Ain't that right?"

"Oh, God forgive me… yesss!" she wailed, her cheeks burning with shame as she glanced at the excited expression on the girlishly pretty face of her nine-year-old son. "I hate you,Frank! You've killed my love… made me into a dirty, filthy slut! Now, Goddamn you, take hold of that big, beautiful, black cock, and fuck it into meee!!"

Frank snorted derisively, started to hit her then changed his mind and laughed at her instead. "Kenny, give me your hand, old buddy. Crawl in here between your mama's legs. I'm gonna let you give her what she wants."

"No, Frank! Oh, please, nooh! Not that! Good Lord, don't make my son help you… degrade me in this awful way!"

"It's all right, boy," Frank assured Kenny as he lifted him into position between his mother's legs and placed his small fingers around the dildo's handle. "Your old lady's just makin' woman fuss. She really wants you to hose her with this thing."

Marge tried to deny the horrible truth of Frank's words, but she couldn't. In her present state of bitch-dog heat, it gave her a lurid thrill to watch Kenny grasp the handle of that evil instrument. She could hardly wait to have her little boy sink it into her.

"Tell him it's okay, Marge!" Frank ordered, and to help her obey, he pinched down on the tender nipple of her right titty and gave it a twist.

"Aaaggghhhhhhh!!" she cried, shivering with the sudden blast of conscience-numbing sex pain. "Yes, Kenny! Oh, Darling! Ohhhhhh…do it… shove that… obscene cock… up mama's… ahhhh… pussy!!"

The wine-high child grinned nervously and began easing the foot-long rod into her slippery gash.

"Not that way!!" Frank snapped. "Like this!" His hand swallowed Kenny's, and with the boy holding the handle, Frank provided the strength as together they crammed the monster all the way up her with one forceful motion.

"Aaaaah-ggggaaaaahhhhhhh!!" Marge groaned, shuddering from head to feet as the enormous phallus plowed into the very depths of her being.

The unstoppable head drove her orgasmically primed womb into the lower region of her ribcage, instantly plunging her into the utter ecstasy of a spine-wrenching climax.

"Cumming! I'm – nnaaaggghhhhh!!"

Her internal muscles clamped down on the woman-stretching girth of the black pole, locking the entire twelve inches of its womb-displacing length in her cunt. The surface of her dildo-stuffed belly quivered and rippled. The swollen outer lips of her hairy slot twitched spastically around the very bottom of the gigantic tool's wickedly flared base.

"Cumming!" she shrieked. "Oh, gawd… ccuuummmiiinnnggg… ahhhh, ahhhhh… oooooohhhhhhhhh!!"

The explosion of her incredibly intense orgasm threatened to rip her loins apart. The lewd abuse of her womanly body was having its full effect on her now, giving her an all-over cum that made even the roots of her teeth and hair throb with a pulsating, heartbeat-like rhythm. She dug her fingernails into the carpet and arched her back in ecstasy.

"Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!"

Her mouth gaped open, her full red lips drawn back over her teeth.

"Oh, God… oooooohhhhhhhhh!!"

The back of her upraised head tapped the couch as it snapped blissfully from side to side.

"Whaaahhhhhh… Oh, Goddamn… ahhhhhhhhhhh… sonofabitch… ooouuuu… mmmmmm… nnnnnn…I'm dying… dying. oh, sweet shit… gggaaawwwwddddd!!"

Marge fell back sobbing brokenly and shuddering uncontrollably as a measles-like sex rash broke out on the sweat-glistening surfaces of her heaving chest and fluttering abdomen. Her internal organs were convulsing wildly, causing the hair-rimmed lips of her stuffed-full pussy to make tiny wet sucking noises as they nibbled mindlessly at the rubber base of the huge dildo which impaled her clear up to her ribcage.

"Okay, Kenny boy, you can start pumping it in and out of her now."

She heard Frank's voice filtering in through ringing ears and wanted to tell him no, that she'd had all she could take, but she was still in the final throes of her tremendous climax and couldn't speak as yet.

"Go on, old buddy. We got her good and hot now, so let's keep her that way. You want'a fuck her, don't you?"

"Yeah!" Kenny squeaked. "Oh, boy, I sure do!"

"Then start strokin' that ramrod to her, pal!" Frank laughed. "Give it to her hard and fast Kenny! That'a boy! Ream that hot snatch of your mama's out good!"

The slender nine-year-old plunged the massive phallus swift and deep, with all the strength he could muster. He was imitating Frank, giving it to his mother the way he'd seen the big redhead give it to her.

All Marge could do was lie there and take it from her son, her sweaty body twitching and jerking.

"Noooohhhh!" she moaned mournfully, attempting to capture Kenny's wrists and prevent him from committing this dreadful crime against all that was decent and good.

But Frank grabbed her shaky hands and held them fast, rendering her powerless to defend herself and save her son from any further corruption that would drag him down into the gutter where her adulterous lover now had her wallowing against her will.

"Oh, Kenny, please!" Marge whimpered, trying by all that was holy to resist the sinful pleasure which her precious little boy was incestuously pumping into her with the aid of the mammoth artificial penis, "Darling, you mustn't… ooouuuu…Mother doesn't want you to… mmmmmmm… oh, Father In Heaven… ahhhhhhhh… oh, Kenny, don't… stop… ohhhhh… don't… don't… ahh, nooh… don't stop, honey! Ohhhhh…shit, that feels too good! Give it to me, you little bugger! Ohh, ohhhh! Fuck Mama… ahhhhh… with that wicked thing! Yes, yess… ohhh, yesss!!"

"Mama, Mama, I love you!" the boy panted, cramming it to her for all he was worth.

"Yes, Precious!" Marge whined in pleasured defeat, and started hunching her pussy up to help him drive the dildo into her. "And Mother…ohh, ohh… loves you, too! With all her… aaaaah… heart! Oh, Kenny, Kenny…what's going to… mmmmm… become of us?!"

"Now ain't that a touching scene!" Frank chortled as he leaned back, opened his fly and took out his bone-hard prick.

CHAPTER SEVEN

"Keep hittin' the bottom of her twat with that rubber hammer, buddy boy," Frank instructed as he dropped to his knees beside Marge's shoulder, the uncapped fifth of whiskey in his left hand and his erected penis boldly protruding from his opened fly. "But cast your eyes up this way, kid, 'cause I'm gonna feed your mama some stiff meat now and I want you to see how she loves it!"

"Frank, nooh!" Marge wailed, as he grabbed her by the hair of the head and lifted her face toward his groin. "Don't make me… do a nasty thing… like that…! Oh, God, have mercy… not in front of… my sonnn!!"

Marge's piteous pleading was icing on the cake which only served to whet Frank's perverted sexual appetite. With his knees and toes on the floor, he eased back till he was sitting on his heels and pulled Marge's head onto his lap. After a glance at her crotch to make sure Kenny was still ramming the rubber pole up her, he drew her head into position and began rocking his hips, brushing the semen-dampened tip of his skinned-back cockhead lewdly back and forth across the alluring softness of her red, resisting lips.

"Come on, baby," he coaxed. "Open up. You know you want'a take a suck on Daddy's old fuckstick."

Out of the corner of her eye, Marge could see that her son was watching their every move. She was reeling with lust. There was so much pussy juice backed up in her steaming vagina she was starting to squish each time Kenny sank the foot of hard rubber into her belly. It felt wonderful. The glorious sensations of being filled to capacity at the hands of her own dear son were driving her up the walls. Secretly she yearned to suck Frank's cock for him, but she was too ashamed to do such a vulgar thing with Kenny looking on.

"Noom!" she moaned through her nose, refusing to part her clenched-together oral petals even a little bit for fear she would weaken and further disgrace herself in the eyes of her innocent offspring.

But Frank was adamant in his insistence that she fellate him, and once he talked her into "just kissing it a little bit", her baser nature rushed to the fore and Marge knew she'd lost again.

Smack, smack, smack! came the lascivious sounds, as her Judas lips betrayed her innermost emotions by raining fervent kisses upon the bluntly-rounded end of Frank's irresistible prick, almost as if they had minds of their own and she couldn't control them.

"That'a girl," he encouraged. "You like it, don't you?"

Yes, yes, you uncouth bastard, I love your cock! she moaned silently, and something inside her melted as she admitted this demeaning truth to herself.

There was no holding back now. He had her right where he wanted her. Her motherly concern drained away as the overpowering urge to take his male organ in her mouth forced her to give in to his lurid desire.

Heaving a throaty sigh of pleasured surrender, her oral petals fluttered open submissively and she extended her pink tongue to slavishly lick off the drop of clear precoital fluid that hung suspended from the eye at the tip of his enlarged glans.

"Mmmmm!" she whimpered, as the flavorful substance penetrated the pores of her tongue and set her discerning taste buds to tingling delightfully.

Ruttishly she grasped his stem and milked it for more of his sticky, male secretions. Her lapping taste organ was immediately rewarded with several large drops that'd been working their way gradually up his urethra. She smacked her lips in delectation and swallowed the viscous precum.

Although Marge's brain was dulled by alcohol and lust, she knew what she was doing. The trouble was, she couldn't help herself. Her will to resist had evaporated in the flames of her mounting carnal passion. From her peripheral vision, the sight of her child's face slammed luridly into her spinning brain, reminding her that he was watching her hold the shaft of Frank's fat dick while she licked its head like an ice cream cone. She felt horribly cheap and dirty now that she'd succumbed to her fit of oral desire in Kenny's presence, but the worst part of it was – and she couldn't deny it – having her son see her behaving like a common whore was beginning to give her the most fantastic thrill of her life! It was crazy, went against the very laws of decency, but her mood had done an abrupt about-face and suddenly she realized that she actually wanted her little boy to see her sucking cock!

"Sweet Dick! Big and fat and hard!" she heard herself crooning, and her insatiable tongue began curling worshipfully over the velvet-smooth surface of Frank's purplish cockhead.

Frank winked at the boy. "That's it, baby. Lick Daddy's knob. Damn, your tongue feels good! Pull your hair out of the way so my buddy here can see the show!"

Without the slightest hesitation, Marge brushed her hair back so her young son could see unhampered the lewd sight of her lips and tongue as they shamelessly played the overture of the skin flute rhapsody she was now more than willing to perform with Kenny as the audience.

Content to let her dally for the moment, Frank nodded approval at Kenny, who was huffing and puffing but still shoving the huge dildo in and out of his mother's squishing cunt. Then he upended the bottle and took a big slug of the rotgut it contained before he returned his attention to the docile woman.

Disentangling his fingers from her hair, he rasped in a whiskey voice, "Okay, baby, you're on your own. Get with it. I want Kenny boy to see what a greedy cocksucker his mama really is. Take me all the way and I'll let you drink the gravy. That's what you want, ain't it, hot ass? A big mouthful of cum?"

"You're awful!" Marge whined, throwing Frank an imploring glance. "Do you have to make it sound so nasty?!"

"Nasty but nice, huh? I know what you like," he taunted, and gave her nearest nipple a rough twist.

"Ouch! Damn it, Frank! Ohhh…shit, that hurt… good!"

"Confess, Marge, say the magic words."

"I'm your cocksucker!" she moaned, as he pinched her tender nipple to goad her into saying what he wanted to hear. "I adore your dong… aarrgghhhh… and your big, hairy balls! Let me blow you! Shoot your load in my… uuunnnn… mouth!"

"Sure, baby," he said, rubbing his dick over her face. "I'll let you blow me. Have at it."

She clung to his stalk, forming her full red lips into a moist, receptive O. Marge couldn't believe she was actually doing this of her own accord in front of her son. When Frank got her hot enough to go down on him, it always made her feel deliciously dirty, but never to this extent! She was burning up with desire, so enslaved by lust that she was ready for any and everything.

Marge glanced at Kenny to make sure he was watching. It was insane, but in her present state of wild passion, she wanted her son to see Frank's fat dick slipping into her mouth.

Her slender fingers gripped the pulsating shaft and peeled the foreskin hood all the way back. Then she pressed the soft O of her moistened oral petals over the bluntly rounded end of the exposed crown and moved her head forward, letting the swollen, purplish bulb enlarge the circle of her lips as she took it in her mouth.

The salty flavor of his taut-skinned knob was in no way offensive to her this time. Its musky taste had grown on her gradually. Frank had fed her cock enough times that she'd acquired a taste for it by now. Her lips tightened like a draw-string around the top part of his shaft. An involuntary sigh of longing escaped her passion-flared nostrils as she sucked down hungrily on the pungent morsel of turgid manmeat, her tongue laving its forefront to collect the tangy juice which she vacuumed up from his stem.

"Mmmmm!" she whimpered, and began bobbing her head at his loins, simultaneously sucking and licking the top four inches of his blood-filled pole.

Her saliva coated all but the lower three inches of his dong, making it nice and slippery as her encircling lips glided up and down it with rhythmic smoothness. Her hair was a tangled mess, flying everywhere. She kept brushing it back so Kenny could see what she was doing. She was beyond caring about right and wrong, helplessly mired in the lovely muck of sheer and unadulterated carnality with no desire whatsoever to pull herself out of it and escape back to even a semblance of decency. Her cheeks were streaked with mascara. Her face was covered with whitish splotches from the grotesque, testicular bulb on the dildo, the same bulb which was now splatting into the crack of her gyrating ass as her son fucked the enormous artificial phallus rapidly in and out of her squishing, slurping, firebox of a snatch. Marge knew full well that she looked and was acting worse than a whore, but wild sexual pleasure was being pumped into her from both ends, and she couldn't for the life of her give a damn about anything else at the moment.

She flung one arm around Frank and, clinging to his masculine butt, she gave her body and soul to the gut-searing heat of her raging desire. Increasing the suction till her cheeks sank inward and began quivering obscenely, she gradually speeded up the tempo of her head's arcing motions and started taking more of his prick into her voraciously suctioning mouth.

The rounded end of the blood-engorged cockhead bump, bump, bumped into the soft lining at the back of Marge's straining throat, its tufted coronal ridge dragging lasciviously over the roughened upper surface of her incessantly curling tongue.

Never had she gotten such a blatantly wicked thrill as this out of going down on Frank, and in her heart of hearts, she knew it was because Kenny was watching her and ramming that monstrous dildo up her all the while.

God, help me! she wailed inwardly. Because I can't help myself! But she wanted no help, not really, and her actions proved it.

Though she'd never been able to do it before, Marge suddenly uttered a gurgling sound and lunged her head forward, making the entire seven inches of Frank's throbbing organ disappear. The swollen crown lurched down her throat, swabbing the sides as it popped rapidly through the tight, encircling rings. Her puffy oral petals mashed against his groin, staining his fly with lipstick. She heaved a guttural groan of lust gone berserk and began swallowing fast as she could, the ringed portion of her throat skimming swiftly back and forth over the velvety contours of his sensitive, blood-engorged dickhead.

"Jesus!" Frank groaned, nearly dropping the fifth of booze as the indescribable pleasure of what she was doing to him raced up his spine and blasted his alcohol-dazed brain. It was unbelievably good, too much for any man to take. His prong, the head of which was buried deep in Marge's milking throat, gave a mighty jerk, and he threw back his head, howling with bliss as an orgasm took him over.

The first jet of his pressurized semen was rushing up his stalk just as Marge came up for air. When the thick cream erupted in a geyser-like gush from the expanded eye of his bloated glans, it painted a white line down the center of her soft palate and splashed luridly over her pink tonsils, festooning them with dripping streaks of hot sticky cum.

"Ung, ung, ung!" Frank grunted, all two-hundred-twenty pounds of him shaking helplessly as his prostate gland pumped the burdensome load of seminal fluids up from his quivering testicles.

Shoot it, shoot it! Marge yelled mentally, for as he'd said earlier, she did want a big mouthful of cum!

And she got it, spurt after forceful spurt. The steaming ejaculate flooded her oral chamber, floating her tongue and giving her a blast of rich, bitter-almond flavor. When the glutinous sperm began washing over her teeth, making her lips and cheeks bulge obscenely, she knew she'd better start swallowing. But wanting to savor the sharply acrid taste as well as to draw out the delicious humiliation of letting him shoot off in her mouth with her young child looking on, Marge hesitated a second too long.

With her mouth already full to capacity, his ballooning cockhead pumped another stream into it, forcing a wave of frothy white jism to ooze out over the soft red circle of her puffy, tremulous lips.

Emitting a tiny, gurgling whimper, her threat began working spasmodically up and down as she gulpingly ingested the orally trapped mass of hot, pungent-tasting cum. But not in time to prevent her son from seeing a rivulet of white run down from her sperm-coated lips and hang in a dangling, gluelike string from the point of her trembling chin.

She sucked the expanding and contracting head of his sperm-spurting cock rapaciously, drinking the remainder of his load as it spiraled into her greedy mouth jet by viscous jet. Her tumultuous passion drove her on, wouldn't let her stop. Even when the flow of semen ended and his prick quit pounding, she couldn't give it up. She sucked all the harder, moaning and whimpering as she drained the final sluggish drops from his deflating dong and tried to vacuum more of it up from his depleted balls.

At first Frank found her gluttony amusing, but his flaccid penis was very tender now and he couldn't stand to let her nurse on it much more. Then she started gnawing on his limber bone, too, and he couldn't take that.

"Goddamn it, woman, don't chew it off!" he rasped, and shoved her head away from his satisfied loins.

A loud, lascivious slurp sounded when his spongy dickhead broke free of her greedily sucking, cum-coated lips.

"Oh, God!" Marge groaned, and she fell back licking the final traces of cum off her shimmering oral petals, ruttishly hunching her on-fire snatch up to help her son drive the doorknob glans of the massive dildo deep into the moist heat of her heaving belly. "Give it to me, Kenny! Ahhhhhhh! Yes, yes, yes!Oh, baby, baby… Christ, how I love it! Unn, unnnnn!Harder, honey! Fuck that wicked thing into… ohhhhhh… your dirty slut of a Mother! I'm no good… no Goddamned good… but I… ooouuuu… don't care anymmoorreee!!"

Not bothering to put away his saliva-coated semierection, Frank scooted down beside Kenny and took possession of the dildo's handle. "She's ready as she ever will be, old buddy. Is your peter up?"

The slender nine-year-old nodded. He was panting for breath, partly from excitement and partly from the physical exertion of pumping that heavy dildo in and out of his mother's hairy hole. Her sex split, while nice and slick with her copious vaginal secretions, clung to the massive shaft so tightly that shoving it in and out of her had turned into quite a chore for a child Kenny's age.

Frank grinned with lewd expectation. "Then take off your pants and shorts, and I'll let you stick it in your mama. How about it, Marge, you ready to give the kid a piece of puss?"

"Good Lord, Frank!" she gasped, staring at Kenny as he pushed down his pants. "We shouldn't… do anything… li-like that! It's incest!"

"Yeah, it is, ain't it?" Frank chortled. "But that's not what I asked you, baby. Take a look at that stiff little pecker on him and tell me you don't want it."

Quickly she shut her eyes, refusing to watch as her son pushed down his shorts. The mood she was in, she didn't dare look at Kenny's penis for fear she might weaken and give in to Frank's unspeakably indecent urgings.

"The very idea!" she wailed, shuddering with a mixture of fascination and horror at the mere thought of committing incest with her beloved son. "I'm his mother, Frank! How could you even suggest such a wicked thing? For God's sake, haven't you already put us through enough filthy perversions to satisfy you?!"

"Not near enough!" he snarled as he slowly inserted the full length of the gigantic rubber phallus up her now-stilled torso.

When he had all twelve inches of it buried in her belly, the head pressing against the bruised, ultra-sensitive mouth of her dislocated womb, he squeezed the testicular bulb and injected her with a torrential stream of cold, gelatin-thickened milk. The stuff gushed out in a single powerful surge, bathing her feverish uterus before it washed down luridly between the shaft of the huge dildo and the satiny walls of her snug fitting vagina to spew out of her, making her tightly gripping cuntlips flutter and sputter around the broadly flared base of the artificial penis.

"Ooouuuu!" Marge sighed, the different but highly pleasant sensations of it causing her to shiver blissfully as the whitish slime streaked her thighs and buttocks and trickled down the crack of her quivering rump. She was about to have another climax, and all in the world she wanted was for Frank to start ramming that lovely monster to her and bring her off. "Fuck me with it, Daddy! Get it going hard and fast! I'm about to cum! Push me! Ohhh, hurry! Push me oooverrr!!"

He wasn't about to let her have that cum she wanted. She was hotter than a Death Valley fox in rut on a scorching summer day, and that's exactly the way she was going to stay until she did what he wanted her to do. His powerful fingers locked around the handle, but instead of pumping the dildo to her, he yanked it completely out of her, depriving her orgasmically primed pussy of the evil instrument just when she needed it stuffed up her in the worst possible way.

Her tautly-stretched portal hung onto it like a bulldog, the elastic rim of her hair-fringed opening pulling out from her sweaty crotch, clinging hungrily to the retreating head. Then the broad coronal ridge broke the suctioning seal of her gripping labia minora, and the fist-sized rubber crown lurched free of her distended cuntflesh. It sounded like the uncorking of a five-gallon jug, except the noise her disappointed snatch made was a bit softer and a lot wetter. Her clefted mound snapped back against her groin in a rubber-like fashion, her swollen larger labia flapping loosely in the breeze. Her cunt was a mess, what with gelatinized milk and an abundance of natural woman-goo bubbling down out of it. The furry gap between her legs, previously as small as a virtuous teenager's, was now a gaping gash that could easily accommodate a mule.

"Ooohhhh, nooooo!!" Marge groaned piteously. "Put it back in! Please, please! Dear God, Frank… d-don't be so cruel! You can't leave… me… li-like this! Oh, Daddy, I'm… burning up! Shove it back up meee… and give me… some relief!Make me ccuummm!!"

"So you want to cum, do you?" he taunted, pushing Kenny – who was now nude from the waist down – into position atop her. All it required was a little shove at Kenny's boyish behind, and Frank had the child's pecker inside the mother's sloppy cunt.

"Nooh, Frank! Oh, My God!" Marge cried, but she made no move to dislodge her son. She could barely feel his tiny goober, didn't know for sure if it was in her yawning pussy yet.

Kenny, on the other hand, was very much aware of the moist, womanly heat surrounding his stubby peter. He was high on wine, beside himself with premature, albeit very real, passion; it felt wonderful to him. He liked his mother's pussy right off, and couldn't have been happier about getting to make love to her the way he'd seen Frank doing that morning.

"Ride her, buddy boy!" Frank hissed, and swatted the lad's naked behind as if he were a young colt he wanted to send off at a gallop.

Imitating Frank's earlier example, the glassy-eyed kid flew into action, his stony little dick stabbing rapid-fire into his mother's gaping fuckhole.

He'd hunched her perhaps a dozen times when the first orgasm of his young life exploded in his loins, nearly scaring the naive child to death. He hadn't known anything like this would happen, and although it felt awful good, Kenny thought maybe he was dying, or at least having a fit of some kind.

"MAMA!" he yelled, and collapsed on top of her, crying, "Ohhh, ohhhhhh ahhhhhhhh!!" as his surprised pecker jerked throbbingly in the velvety softness of her hot, wet cunt.

Marge could tell he had it in her now. Of course there was no ejaculate, but she could feel his darling little organ twitching wildly about inside her, and she knew he was cumming. His frightened outcry melted her mother's heart and, right or wrong, she flung her arms around him and hugged him tight, crooning, "Yes, Kenny, yesss! You're cumming, sweetheart! Don't worry! It won't hurt you! Cum, cum! Oh, Precious, darling… my adorable little boy!"

"GAW-AWD-DAMN!" Frank husked, for the sight of mother and son fucking had such a powerful psychological effect on him that, although his prick was only half erect again, it was spurting a second, smaller load of sluggish, milky-white jism.

While the mother and son lay there on the floor in the classic position of intercourse, Marge crying and Kenny wondering what was wrong because he'd enjoyed it and thought she had, too, Frank turned up the bottle of whiskey and killed it without realizing what he was doing.

The room was spinning around Frank when he dragged Marge's son off her and began drunkenly stuffing his limber penis in her. But it wasn't Marge he was attempting to screw. In his alcohol-drugged mind, she'd somehow become not Kenny's mother but his.

It wouldn't work. After two cums and all that booze, he was temporarily impotent. Finally he rolled off her, muttering incoherently, and began blubbering, then broke out crying like a baby.

Marge, who wasn't nearly so drunk now, ignored the big slob. Sorely ashamed of the dreadful thing they'd all done but needing relief desperately, she made Kenny go into the bedroom and, as soon as he'd closed the door behind him, she grabbed up the dildo and was attempting to stick it back up her burning snatch when Bobo trotted over with his tail between his legs and started licking her messy crotch.

The big German shepherd had tried to work his head under her dress many times before, but she'd always slapped his head and scolded him severely. This time, however, she was disinclined to rebuke the dog once she'd felt the enormously enjoyable results of his lapping tongue. Her cunt was on fire. If she didn't get relief she feared she would go crazy and start screaming and trying to climb the walls. The head of the dildo was too large; she couldn't insert it, didn't have the strength.

So she did the next best thing – or so it seem to her lust-crazed mind at the moment – by tossing away the artificial penis and opening her legs to the dog she'd raised from a puppy.

"Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm!" she chanted, squirming her ass rapturously about when Bobo started licking her steaming pussy in earnest. Only seconds later she threw back her head in orgasmic ecstasy, going, "Ooonnnggggg… ooonnnggggg… ooonnnggggg!!" with her hand over her mouth so Kenny wouldn't hear her lustful cries of fulfillment as the blessed relief she needed so badly washed over her in great sheets of tension-releasing bliss.

"No, Goddamn it, nooooo!!" Frank screamed in drunken rage. "Ain't no shit-eatin' dog gonna do that to my maw!" He pushed himself to his feet and kicked viciously at Bobo, missed and nearly fell before he drew back his foot to try again.

But the rotgut was having its full effect on him now. He lost his balance and began staggering backward, swinging his arms wildly and muttering like a lunatic. He tripped on Marge's tattered dress and his hulking body went crashing down, his head grooming off the blunt edge of a sturdy old occasional table. He was out cold when he hit the floor.

Kenny came rushing back into the living room, all shook up, to see what was going on. His mother was still in the final throes of her climax. Before she shrieked and began slapping at Bobo's head, he saw that she'd been letting their pet lick her between the legs.

Now that her raging passion was satiated, Marge embarrassedly retrieved her panties and bra and dipped them on. "Put your pants on, Son," she told Kenny, her gaze unable to meet his after the terrible, sordid things Frank had forced upon them. "We're getting out of here, right now!"

At last she saw Frank for what he really was, and she loathed him, wondered how she could've ever thought she loved a brute like him. He was the scum of the earth, and he'd managed to drag her down to the point where she felt like a piece of worthless white trash herself. But he wouldn't get the chance to degrade and humiliate her again. There was no fear of the drunken bum coming around. He would be out till morning at least, and by then she and Kenny would be long gone. They would take their belongings and go to a motel. Tomorrow she would find them a plate to live, a nice little apartment or cottage in a decent part of the city where Kenny could go to a good school and she would take that job at the pants factory until she could find something better.

But they would need money until she earned her first paycheck. She tugged Frank's wallet from his hip pocket. It contained almost five hundred dollars. With no qualms, she took out two hundred and put it in her purse. Frank owed her at least that much. He'd been flat broke before he'd take the painting job for which he'd got paid today, and she'd given him her diamond wedding rings to sell. The set had cost nearly a thousand dollars, but Frank said he'd gone to three pawnshops and two hundred was the best offer for them.

She'd been put out with him for letting them go so cheaply, and thinking back on it made het infuriated now. She opened his wallet again and plucked out two more fifties.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The next morning, ignoring her hangover and leaving Kenny at the motel to look after Bobo, Marge bought a newspaper and went apartment hunting by bus and on foot. She found several reasonably priced places that she didn't exactly like but would do for the time being, but she was turned down every time when she was asked about pets. A small dog or a cat, it appeared, was acceptable to most landlords, but not a full-grown German shepherd.

Marge seriously considered doing away with Bobo. She couldn't do it, though. It would break Kenny's heart. Besides, she'd raised the lovable mutt from a puppy and was rather attached to him herself.

She wished she could move back in with her mother. But that was out of the question. She wouldn't crawl, which she knew from bitter experience that she would have to do before her strait-laced mother would begrudgingly take her back into the house. Even then, there would be months of smug recriminations to face, for her "good Christian" mother would miss no opportunity to throw up her sinful ways to her and rub in her mistake like salt on an open wound, with a humiliating redundancy of "I told you so's," thrown at her, to boot. No, Marge was damned if she would put up with that. Her life had become miserable enough already; she refused to crawl home begging sustenance for herself and her child, and allow her mother to make things even more miserable for her.

Persistence paid off. Toward the middle of the afternoon, Marge found a tiny but surprisingly nice, well-furnished efficiency apartment above a garage at the rear of a large, fenced back yard. It was sixty dollars a month, all bills paid. The pleasant older couple who owned it lived in the single-family dwelling at the front of the lot. When she told them about Bobo, all they asked was, "He doesn't bite, does he?"

Assuring them that Bobo was very friendly and had never even barked at the mailman, much less bitten anyone, Marge grabbed the apartment and paid a month's rent in advance, plus a twenty-five-dollar deposit she would have to forfeit if the apartment wasn't left in good condition when she moved.

Moving was the farthest thing from Marge's mind, although the neighborhood wasn't as nice as she would like it to be and living above a garage at the edge of an alley wasn't exactly ideal. Under the circumstances, it was the best she could do. She was glad to get the inexpensive apartment. That was one worry off her mind. Now she would have to get a job. Not today though. She was tired and hungry and her feet hurt from walking so much, and the first order of business was to get moved in and settled down.

They retired early that night, Kenny beaming happily because he got to sleep with Marge on the hide-a-bed couch that was luxurious compared to the dilapidated old furniture at Frank's.

As Marge lay in the dark, smoking one last cigarette and worrying about the future, her young son snuggled up to her and tried to slip his hand up under her nightgown between her legs.

"Kenny, stop it!" she scolded, and slapped his hand. "You must never try to touch me there again. I'm your mother, young man, and don't you ever forget it."

"But, Mama, I like your pussy," he said. "Let me make love to you again, like I did last night."

"Oh, Jesus!" she groaned, and took a deep drag from her cigarette before she rolled onto her side and stubbed it out in the ash tray on the lamp table. She turned onto her back and stared up at the darkened ceiling. "Honey, listen… what we did last night… it was terribly wrong. That bastard poured liquor down me till he got me so drunk I didn't know my own name, much less what I was doing. I'm ashamed of the way I behaved. So ashamed. But we've got to go on as if it never happened. I want you to forget all about last night, Son. Don't think about it, and, please, Kenny, don't ever mention it again, to me or anyone else. Especially not to anyone else. Promise me you won't." Tears were trickling down from the corners of Marge's eyes, and her voice sounded all choked up.

Kenny promised. She didn't explain why it was wrong, just said she was his mother and he must never try to touch her pussy again. The nine-year-old didn't fully understand, but his mother sounded awful sad, and that made him sad, too. But he couldn't stop thinking about it, no matter how hard he tried, and when he fell asleep he dreamed that he was making love to his mother. There was just him and her. It was a good dream.

As for Marge, she'd been used to having intercourse with Frank every night. Though she was bushed, she couldn't get to sleep without her nightly orgasm, for it'd become as much of a habit as brushing her teeth. Not that she missed Frank. Oh, no, for she was glad to be rid of that redheaded sonofabitch now that he'd shown his true colors. But it humiliated her to realize how much she missed having that lovely fat cock of his working inside her greedy cunt.

For a long time she tossed and turned, fighting the nasty urge. Then, finally, after making sure he child was asleep, she relieved herself with her fingers, feeling like a silly schoolgirl until it started getting too good to think about anything else.

The forty-three-year-old woman sank into a deep and dreamless sleep only a couple of moments after she'd made herself cum.

To Marge's dismay, after a brief and intimidating tryout on a monster of a sewing machine, the Negro foreman of the pants factory refused to hire her. He told her she didn't have the digital dexterity which the job required, and he didn't even have the kindness to take her aside and tell her in private but chose to degrade her by informing her that she wasn't good enough in front of a bunch of other women seeking work, all of whom Marge would've considered beneath, her a few months back.

She stammered and stuttered, turning five shades of red before she snatched up her purse and ran in horror from what was to Marge a dreadful scene of scathing humiliation. A compassionate smile on the weather-beaten face of a snaggle-toothed Mexican woman made Marge's embarrassment all the worse, for she mistakenly interpreted the display of empathy as a smirking grin.

Outside the building, Marge buried her face in her hands and broke out sobbing, for the bitter incident had completely punctured her illusion of superiority. It was a terrible slap in the face, being turned down for a low-paying, menial job in a pants factory, the very offer of which had insulted her at the employment agency.

Dejectedly Marge trudged back to the bus line and, after repairing her make-up in the ladies room at a service station, she boarded a bus and started for the garage apartment which was now her home, wondering what in the world she was going to do to support herself and her young son. If she couldn't land a job in a pants factory – which to Marge's way of thinking was about as low as a lady could go – then what kind of job could she hope to get? Maid at a motel, perhaps? After-hours cleaning lady at some store or office building?

Strangely Marge's sense of humor – which had been woefully lacking since her husband deserted her – suddenly reappeared and she found herself laughing out loud on the bus. A Mexican girl two seats up on the other side of the aisle turned around and smiled at her. Marge quit laughing, but she nodded and returned the smile.

To hell with feeling, sorry for myself, she thought. I'll find a job, and if maid or cleaning lady is the best I can do right now, then I'll work at it with dignity until something better comes along.

But she wasn't up to being rejected twice in one day, so she went on home.

Bobo met her in the yard, and reared up pawing her shoulders and trying to lick her face. She pushed him down, patted his head and allowed him to follow her up the outside stairs and into the apartment. It was a warm morning, so she shut the screen and left the door open to catch the breeze. Then she flopped down on the couch, kicked off her shoes and lit a cigarette. She'd transferred Kenny to the school four and a half blocks away. It was a good school. There were quite a few Mexican kids in it, but they were from middle-class Mexican families and that made all the difference in the world to Marge. Jumping around wasn't good for a child. She liked this cute little apartment and wanted Kenny to stay in his present school at least for the rest of this school year, so she began seriously reevaluating her attitude, and trying to determine what type of work she could realistically hope to find.

There was just Marge and the dog in the apartment. At first Bobo left her alone, for he was busy nosing around here and there, reexploring the new surroundings. After a while the German shepherd lay down on the floor at her stockinged feet and started to go to sleep. But when Marge absently drew up her right leg and rested the sole of her foot on the couch, the faint odor of her perfumed, somewhat sweat-moistened crotch wafted into the animal's keen nostrils and his eyes snapped open, his head coming up with the memory of her cunt's flavor.

Unlike humans, the lower creatures do not have a highly developed sense of time. To them any memory, whether from a day or a year in the past, is as urgent and pressing as if the event which caused the memory had occurred a mere moment before it cropped up. That being the case, it is readily understandable how a dog who has tasted woman's pussy, and is having a vivid recollection of doing so, could very easily imagine that it had only just happened.

And so it was with Bobo, who seemed a bit mystified as to how his mistress – he remembered her lying in near nudity on the floor – had suddenly become fully dressed and sitting on the couch, which seemed different from the one in his recollection. But couches and clothing hadn't been the stimulus of the animal's pleasant memory. The fragrance of her crotch is what had triggered his recall, which had set his mouth to watering just like Pavlov's bell. Only it wasn't food Bobo was salivating for: what he wanted was more of Marge's delicious vaginal fluids. Up off the floor he came, giving only a single, BARF! for warning before he stuck his head up under her dress and started avidly lapping her clefted mound through the sheer nylon covering of her perspiration- and secretion-dampened panty crotchband.

The unexpected action took Marge, who'd been lost in thought, totally by surprise. She sucked in her breath in pleasured shock, then let it out with a high-pitched squeal of alarm. Between the index and middle fingers of her left hand was a freshly-lit cigarette, rendering it useless for slapping, so, pushing at Bobo's dress-concealed head with the heel of her left hand, she swung her right frantically, slapping the family pet rapidly but lightly – she couldn't see where she was hitting him and didn't want to gouge his eye with one of her long fingernails – in an attempt to drive him out from between her legs.

Bobo was not to be put off so easily, however. Only a few years back had Kenny given up trying to ride him for a pony, and the child's "Gitteup" slaps at the other end of him had caused him more discomfort than the woman's did now, and her slaps were becoming lighter not harder. If she wanted him to quit, she was going to have to cuff him good, the way she'd finally done the other time in that other place.

But this wasn't the other time and the other place, and Bobo's tongue, which had felt good from the start, was getting better and better with each lewd lap he took at her panty-protected pussy. She stopped slapping him, and although she knew she shouldn't, even though they were alone and no one would ever know, she heaved a sigh and lazed back on the couch with her legs open, letting him have at it.

I won't take my panties off, Marge kidded herself. And I'll make him quit that lovely ticking as soon as I finish this cigarette.

It didn't work out that way, however. Marge didn't realize it yet, but her morals, once as high as it's humanly possible for an ordinary woman's to be, had been irreparably lowered as a result of her ill-fated love affair with Frank Dixon. Her self-image had taken quite a nose dive, too. She'd been feeling sort of like a kicked dog when she got home from the pants factory.

Now a dog was licking her pantied crotch. It didn't exactly make her feel like a queen, but the physical sensations of the harmless lapping – after all, she wasn't going to take her panties off, was she? – were very sensual indeed. The incessant tugging sensations produced by Bobo's tongue dragging up over her nylon-protected furry slot were lolling away Marge's tensions and worries and causing her to slip rather swiftly into a pleasant, euphoric mood of lazy voluptuousness.

By the time she mashed out her cigarette in the ash tray, she was thinking, God, that feels good. I'm tempted to take off my panties and let him finish me off. He's got me leaking now. I'm pretty hot. Didn't expect that. If I get worked up and don't get relief, it always leaves me tense and irritable for hours afterwards. Oh, what the hell, I let him lick me off the other night and the world didn't cave in, did it? What will it hurt? No one will ever know! Just this once, though, because I sure don't want to make a habit of this!

"All right, Bobo," she whispered, and glanced around furtively, although she knew there was no chance of detection. She was in her own second-story apartment with no one near enough to hear her even if she should raise her voice a good deal above a normal speaking tone. "You win, boy. Back up so I can unwrap it for you."

After she pushed the German shepherd away with a stockinged foot, Marge quickly raised her lovely ass and hoisted her dress up around her trim waist. She hooked her thumbs in the elastic waistband of her step-ins and skinned the wispy undergarment down the slender columns of her long, shapely legs. Then she lazed back with her fleshy rump hanging precariously on the edge of the couch and her legs spread invitingly open.

"Come on," she whispered, patting the dew-moistened petals of her parted sex. "You've got me wanting it now, damn you."

His tail wagging, the big dog walked up between her thighs and nuzzled her furry slot with his muzzle.

"Ooouuuu, your nose is cold!" she whimpered. "Give me your nice warm tongue, Bobo. That's what I want!"

Bobo backed his nose out of her and gave a half-sneeze. He paused to sniff the crack of her ass. Then he licked his chops, looking up at her, and Marge wondered if dogs were such dumb beasts, after all, because the expression in Bobo's eyes was amazingly similar to Frank's and her husband's when they got horny.

There was no time for Marge to mull this over, though, for now that Bobo had her permission to lick, lick her he did. Out came that long red tongue of his, making her suck in her breath and shiver with delight as he worked it into the cleft of her buttocks. Then Bobo dragged it slowly up through the fluted folds of her elliptical opening, and Marge thought she would faint, it felt so sinfully good!

"Aaaaah!" she sighed, squirming in sensual arousal. "Damn, I must have been too far gone to appreciate that scratchy tongue the other night, Bobo. But I'm not now, so keep it up, you lovely beast. I'll give you an hour to quit that naughty licking!"

Her nylon-encased legs formed a wide V. They were bent slightly at the knees, the soles of her stockinged feet resting on the carpeted floor. The globular white moons of her full, womanly buttocks hung half-on, half-off the edge of the couch cushion. In this position, with her dress up around her waist and her panties lying on the floor beside her shoes, her hairy hole was presented to the dog as best it could be for the lewd purpose at hand. Her brownish, dew-moistened labia majora yawned lazily open, giving Bobo's eager tongue easy access to the wetly shimmering, reddish-hued sweetmeats which comprised her nerve-rich cuntal vestibule.

Bobo's black and tan head wagged up and down steadily, his long, slender, red tongue laving up through the responsively tingling inner slopes of her furry trough at the rate of about two lust-inciting laps per second.

"Jesus!" Marge breathed. Each time the canine tongue slithered up her sex slot, its roughened upper surface dragging abrasively over the hypersensitive head of her elongated clitoris, she batted her eyes and shivered with erotic delight. There was a dreamy smile on her face. The tip of her tongue kept tracing absently around the tremulous oval of her parted red lips. It felt marvelous, and right or wrong, Marge knew she would be having more of this in the future.

Unknown to Marge, however, the German shepherd wasn't going to be content with merely licking her succulent gash. At that very moment, his long, fiery-red penis was creeping jerkily out from its furry sheath at the rear of his underside, its painted tip dripping slippery canine sexual fluids. Although Bobo was quite happy for the moment to continue lapping up the nectarous juices bubbling copiously down from her velvety vaginal well, the instinctual urge, to mate was beginning to make itself known in his subhuman brain.

"Mmmm… mmmm…mmmmmm!"

Marge was whimpering now, squirming about, sighing with pleasure each time she exhaled. The smile gradually drained from her face. Her mouth hung open, her chin quivering from time to time. Her hazel eyes were taking on a glassy sheen. The noise of her own breathing prevented Marge from hearing the soft footsteps as her landlady climbed the stairs carrying a covered bowl of homemade stew.

"Ohhhhhh… oh, that's lovely! Deeper, Bobo…lick deeper! Snake that… ahhhhhh… tongue way up… into my ccuunnttt!!"

The pleasure of it was becoming unbearable. Marge's eyes clamped shut. Her head began rocking to and fro. Just as her landlady arrived at the landing, her hand poised to knock, Marge let out a pleasured moan that even an old woman peering through a screen door couldn't misinterpret.

Abruptly Bobo quit licking her.

"Don't stop now, Damn it!" Marge wailed, grabbing at his head and trying to force him to continue. "LICK, LICK! I'M about to cum! I wa-want you to bring me offf!!"

But Bobo's instincts told him it was time to mate. In his mind's eye, although Marge was his mistress, he regarded her as he would have a bitch dog in heat who'd presented him with a dribbling pussy to lick. The licking was over. His penis was fully erect. Semen bloated his testicles, the pressure of it urging him on.

Barf, barf! he scolded as he jerked his head free of Marge's hands. And up he reared, hopping into position on his hind legs. The pencil eraser tip of his glistening prick found its mark and he bowed his back, sinking the full length of his tapering, beet-red animal phallus into her human pussy before the astonished Marge realized he meant to mount her.

"Naaaaahhhhhhh!!" Marge squealed, and then sucked in her breath raggedly, shuddering from head to toe, for the pointed tip of the dog's penetrating dick had speared directly into the tiny, supersensitive mouth of her womb itself, sending a flood of sheer bliss through her orgasmically primed torso.

"Aaaaaahhh, Goddd!!" she bleated, as the horny animal locked his forelegs around her and started humping the meat to her. "I'm cumming… cumming… cuuummmmmiiiinnnnnggggg!!"

The blast of sudden ecstasy obliterated any sense of horrified revulsion Marge might have had. She knew she shouldn't permit this crime against nature, but a woman shuddering with orgasm is hardly in a position to defend her honor. Her toes curled down and hugged the balls of her stockinged feet. The long, graceful columns of her nylon-clad legs twitched spastically. Her arms lifted in a series of jerky motions, her fingers spread wide apart and her hands shaking visibly before they faltered – it was her intention to shove Bobo off her – and changing her mind, she grabbed the dog's arching behind and tugged his pleasure-giving prick into her spasming snatch clear up to its hairy hilt.

"Aaaaahhhh-gggaaahhhhh!!" she trilled, letting the animal lick her face as her head lolled rapturously from side to side. "Ohhhhhh… OOOhhhhhh… That's soo goooddd!!"

Her internal muscles convulsed rhythmically, clutching the slippery column of Bobo's fully inserted, spear-like erection, which, because a dog's body temperature is higher than a human's, felt glowing hot to Marge although it was actually only a few degrees hotter than a man's penis. And she felt something else, too, for most dogs ejaculate their first load quickly and the milking action of her steaming vagina did the trick for Bobo, who had a big, rusty load built up.

Bobo whined mournfully as the bulging lump of ready-to-be-released semen slipped swiftly up the pulsing shaft of his pussy-engulfed penis. And Marge, who was still in the final throes of her toe-curling climax, whined right along with the animal. With every jangling nerve in her orgasm-wracked body she could feel the knot gliding up Bobo's dick, coming closer and closer to her contracting and relaxing womb. She'd seen a couple of dogs copulating once, so she knew what was about to take place. Only she didn't care. It was too late to stop now. Decency demanded that she hurl the family pet off her before he planted his subhuman seed in her belly. But decency be damned, for she wanted to feel it spurting into-her!

And, man, did it spurt! Oh, how it spurted! The lump snuggled right up to Marge's womb, into the mouth of which had already been inserted the pencil-eraser head of the dog's thumping organ, and out it all came in one surging, superhot stream. The sticky dog sperm gushed into her like water from a sun-heated garden hose that'd suddenly been turned on full force.

"Whaaaahhhhhhh!" she shrieked, throwing back her head with the incredible pleasure of it as the geyser-like gush of scalding dog cum blasted directly into her pear-shaped uterus, filling that most feminine of all her female organs gloriously full and then making it swell up like a balloon to take the rest of Bobo's massive load.

"Ohhhhh, My Goddd!!" Marge groaned, her glassy eyes bulging in ecstatic disbelief.

This was wonderful! It felt too Godawful good to be true! But it was true, and the illicit pleasure of having her womb bloated by the inundation of Bobo's canine semen thrilled Marge to the core of her passion-wracked being. The supreme joy of this blatantly obscene union with her big dog plunged Marge nonstop into a second climactic paroxysm, the intensity of which made her first, toe-curling cum feel like a tiny tickle by comparison.

"Nnnaaaaahhhhh-gggaaahhhhh!!" came her guttural groan of complete fulfillment, as the agony/ecstasy of her spine-wrenching orgasm blanked out her mind.

"Hoooo, hooooo… oooohhhhhhHHHHH!!"

Her head snapped from side to side, her shoulder-length brunette hair fanning the air.

"Aaaaggggghhhhhhhhhhh!!"

The features of her lust-contorted face were twisted into a mask of unadulterated bliss. Her own son wouldn't have recognized her if he'd walked in the door at that moment, as Marge's landlady was now doing.

"Uunnn, uunnn… ohhhh, gawd, gawd… aaaahhhhhhhh!!" Marge bleated, and bowed up, quivering and jerking, before she fell back limply and lay there sobbing out her inner bliss while her pleasure-soaked body shuddered helplessly.

After her long, satisfying orgasm had run its course, Marge heaved a final sigh and opened her eyes. The sight of her plump, gray-haired landlady standing just inside the door ripped the fatuous smile off Marge's face.

"Oh, My God!" Marge gasped. She shoved Bobo away and whipped down her dress to hide her naked loins. "Missus Nelson! I know what you must be thinking, but please don't…"

"Oh, for goodness sakes, child!" Mrs. Nelson scolded in a grandmotherly fashion. "Why should you care what I think? Don't apologize to me. After all, I did sort of sneak up on you, though I didn't mean to." She paused and giggled like a young girl. "But you really ought to be more careful in the future. Close the door, at least, honey, or a show like that is just liable to bring some horny salesman bursting in to rape you."

Marge was flabbergasted. She'd expected the woman to rant and rave and order her out of the apartment.

"That certainly is a nice red pecker," Mrs. Nelson commented as she watched Bobo flop down on the floor and bend his head back to lick his semierect penis. "And from the way you were carrying on, I'll bet it must have felt every bit as good as it looks, too, hummm?"

A stupefied nod was the best Marge could do, for the permissive attitude of Mrs. Nelson – who was pushing seventy and looked to be the archetype of grandmotherly sweetness and purity – left Marge stunned speechless.

"I made a stew this morning," Mrs Nelson said as she returned her attention to Marge. "If I do say so myself, it turned out exceptionally well. I noticed you come in a while ago, and I thought you might like a bowl of it. You haven't had your lunch yet, I hope?"

Marge shook her head. She still couldn't believe this.

"Good!" Mrs. Nelson exclaimed. "Let's go into the kitchenette and chat while you sample my stew. Do you have crackers? I'll trot back for some saltines if you don't."

"I, uh, have some crackers," Marge, who was simultaneously slipping her feet into her shoes and shoving her soiled panties out of sight under the couch, replied haltingly, for she'd stocked up on groceries the previous evening.

They sat down on opposite sides of the table, Mrs. Nelson beaming approval as Marge dug into the big bowl of delicious homemade stew.

"I had a German shepherd like yours once," Mrs. Nelson said with a sly wink. "He's long dead now, of course, but King sure helped me stay true to George during the war."

Now Marge understood why Mrs. Nelson hadn't been shocked. She flashed the kindly old lady a grateful smile, because her voluntary confession made Marge feel much less guilty about succumbing to bestiality herself.

"Sometimes I wish I had another one like King," Mrs. Nelson went on. "Not all dogs will do it to a woman, you know."

At your age? Surely you're not serious! Marge felt like saying, but apparently the old lady meant it, so Marge stifled the urge to laugh. "I could loan you Bobo," Marge said jokingly, never dreaming the sweet little old lady might take her up on it.

But it wasn't a joking matter to Mrs. Nelson. The old gal had snow on the roof but there was still plenty of fire in her furnace. "I was hoping you'd say that!" Mrs. Nelson gushed. "Oh, God love you! I'll take him to the house with me if you don't mind. I want George to see me taking him on. Don't worry, honey, I won't tell George about you. The poor dear. He hasn't had a good hard-on in more than a year. It used to give him such a thrill to see King and me going at it. Who knows? I might just get two good screwings today, and wouldn't that be like old times! I think I'll take Bobo and hurry home now," she said, and got up from the table. "No, no, don't get up."

"Have fun," Marge called after Mrs. Nelson as the excited woman entered the living room to collect Bobo on her way out.

"You can be sure I will," Mrs. Nelson called back. "My pussy's all aflutter just thinking about it. Come on, Bobo, you're invited to a party at my house. Oh, yes, you gorgeous animal, sniff me, if you want to. Do you like the smell of it? Yes? Ha, ha! We're going to have us a real good time, Bobo, just me and you and George, and I'll cook you a nice, juicy steak afterward. Would you like that?"

Leading Bobo by his collar, Mrs. Nelson started out the door, then paused and called to Marge, "By the way, honey, I almost forgot to ask. Did you get that job you were telling me about yesterday?"

"Afraid not," Marge answered. She was entering the living room to see Mrs. Nelson out.

"Well, don't look so glum about it. There'll be other jobs. Plenty of them for a pretty young woman like you. Say, wait a minute… can you cook?"

"It's about the only thing I can do well," Marge admitted. "That, and keep house."

"Then I know… yes, I'll phone him and recommend you, if you want me to. My sister's boy. He's got a drive-in restaurant not far from here. Within walking distance, in fact, and when I talked to Sis on the phone yesterday, Jim's cook had just up and quit on him with no notice. Jim was having to run the front and do the cooking, too, and he's got a real good business going there. Pays his help mighty good, too. If he hasn't hired another cook yet, I'll bet he'd just be tickled to death to give you a try. That is, if you think you might be interested. I don't mean to meddle, and I imagine working in a kitchen might be…"

"God, yes, I'm interested," Marge interrupted. "Call him, Missus Nelson! Please call him now!"

CHAPTER NINE

It was hot, hard work and the pay wasn't all that great – a hundred a week for a forty-hour shift – but Marge was glad to get the job. Nor was it the kind of creative cooking which she enjoyed. Mountains of burgers and fries was what it took to satisfy the ravenous appetites of the drive-in's customers, mostly teenagers, and it kept Marge hopping to fill the stream of orders turned in by the one counter girl and the three carhops. Mr. Worley – Mrs. Nelson's nephew Jim – broke Marge in to the way he wanted things done and, when the orders piled up faster than she could fill them, he pitched in to help her out, always joking and carrying on with her the way he did with the young girls who worked for him.

Mr. Worley was in his early fifties, turning bald. He was a wiry little man. At five-foot-five, he stood two inches shorter than Marge. Mainly he made all the drinks and tended the cash register, but he seemed to love his business and was all over the place when things got busy. The only thing the jovial little man didn't do was hop cars. He and Marge hit it off right from the start. By the end of her first shift, they'd dropped the "Mister Worley" and "Missus Sayre" bit and were calling one another by their first names.

The only real objection Marge had about her job was the hours – two in the afternoon till ten p.m. when the place closed – because she didn't like the idea of leaving her nine-year-old son alone in the evenings. At first the boy walked to the drive-in and hung around for an hour or so after Marge had given him his supper, then Mrs. Nelson sort of adopted him and Marge quit worrying about him so much, knowing he was being looked after in the evenings and put to bed promptly at eight. It wasn't so bad. The drive-in was closed on Sunday and Monday because Jim wouldn't work on Sunday and said he'd learned the hard way that Monday was a money-loser.

Although Jim was married, happily he said, he insisted on driving Marge home every night and she let him. She liked the man and saw nothing wrong with accepting a ride from him since he was her employer. Then they got to stopping at a bar for a nightcap. One night they had three drinks before Jim took her home and Marge, who was a bit tipsy and hadn't had any loving for weeks, allowed her boss to kiss her goodnight.

Jim was all over her in a matter of minutes. They were parked in the alley behind her apartment, and he was wrestling her around in the seat as if they were a couple of teenagers, French-kissing her while he fought her hands to play with her foam-rubber tits through her blouse. Finally he shoved his hand forcibly under her dress and began rubbing her cock-starved pussy.

"No, Jim!" she panted, when he slipped his hand inside the secretion-soaked crotchband of her nylon panties and probed two fingers up into her juiced-up slot. "Ohhhhh… oh, don't! Damn it, I ca-can't… let you screw me!"

But screwing her wasn't what he was after. He begged her to let him go down on her, nothing more, swore he could worship her for her fabulous legs and ass, that watching her move around in the kitchen had made him crazy to eat her snatch. He didn't care that her crotch was sweaty and that she needed a douche. In fact, the strong smell of her aroused cunt seemed to excite him all the more.

He wouldn't take no for an answer. Like a wild man he wrestled her down and, jerking her panty crotchband to the side, began slavishing licking her hairy hole, whimpering and shaking with emotion as he did so.

Once she felt his lapping tongue and suctioning lips working on her erogenous crack, Marge melted and let him have his lustful way with her. He made her cum twice before he groaned and shot off in his pants.

"God, I don't know what came over me, Marge," he said when he finally let her up. "I've never done that to any woman before. There's something about you, baby, something that brings out the animal in me. I'm not gonna say I'm sorry because I'm not. Jesus, I've never enjoyed anything so much in my whole life. Don't quit me, Marge. Stay on. I'll give you a nice raise if you will."

She accepted a cigarette and a light from him. His hands were still shaking. Strangely, she didn't regret what had happened. He'd satisfied her sexual needs, leaving her in a relaxed mood of physical well-being. "I'll never have intercourse with you," she said. "You're a married man and I'm not about to become a home-wrecker."

"Just let me eat you out every now and again," he pleaded. "All I want to do is worship that delicious cunt of yours with my mouth."

"Are you sure you'll be satisfied with that, Jim?" she asked in a tauntingly throaty whisper, for she was beginning to enjoy the mounting sense of power which her physical appeal apparently gave her over her boss.

He gulped and shook his head. "I'll be wanting to lick those pretty little feet of yours, too, and your gorgeous legs… and, oh, God… your ass… that beautiful ass! Marge, I've been fighting this for years. But you, whatever it is about you… I can't fight it anymore. At work… nothing will be different there… do you understand? Except I'll raise you twenty-five dollars a week starting this week… and I'll pay you more later… if you'll…" His voice trailed off.

It was his expression of blissful humiliation more than what he'd said which struck a responsive cord in Marge and brought a part of her personality which she'd never known existed rising to the surface.

"I think I'm beginning to get your message, boss man," she intoned, and slapped him quite hard. When he only whimpered, she slapped him. "That's the way you want me to treat you when-we're alone, isn't it, Jim?"

He gulped and nodded. "We'll go to a motel next time. I've got some leather things I'd like you to wear. You will dominate me, won't you?"

"Completely," she assured him, for now that she realized what their relationship was to be, she was eager to get it going. She'd read of such things before, and now she knew why it'd held that inexplicable sense of fascination for her. "Do you sleep in pajamas?" she asked.

"Why, yes, I do, but why do you ask?"

Her smile belonged on a jungle cat stalking its prey. "Because I wouldn't want to mark you where your wife might see it. You don't want her to know, do you? Of course not, so bare your chest for me."

Obediently he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled up his T-shirt.

"I've noticed you admiring these long red nails of mine. I've always wondered why I took so much trouble keeping them this way. But now I know, lover, thanks to you."

With that, she reached over and raked her sharp fingernails slowly across his chest. The more he whimpered and trembled, the deeper she dug them in. There were four red welts across his chest when she finished.

"Did you enjoy that as much as I did, Jim? Does it excite you the way it excites me?"

"Christ, yes! More!" he pleaded.

"Oh, no," she laughed. "That's all you get tonight. I'm calling the shots from now on. Buy me some thigh-high boots, will you?"

"Black ones," he husked.

"Of course black," she said, and told him what size to buy before she sent him on his way.

Marge went up the stairs humming softly to herself. She felt good, confident, powerful, and she knew her new self-confidence was a direct result of the dormant streak of female dominance which Jim had evoked from her. It gave her a strange and wonderful feeling, although she realized it was only a small part of her total personality. She supposed she ought to poke it around, examine it, analyze it, but she was disinclined to do so. How much better it would be for her in the long run to simply savor and enjoy this new facet of her personality, for it drove away her fears concerning the future. All her life she'd felt dependent on men in one way, or another, and she'd resented it. But no longer. Now a man was dependent on her, and it worked an odd sort of magic within her. Now, for the first time since her husband had deserted her, Marge felt able to cope with life as it was.

It made no difference that her new-found optimism was totally unrealistic, for like the bumblebee – whose body is too heavy for its wings but it doesn't know that and so flies anyway – Marge refused to be concerned about details which didn't interest her.

"What were you doing down there in the car so long?" Kenny demanded.

"That, young man, happens to be none of your business," Marge replied as she kicked off her shoes and padded toward the bathroom in her stocking feet. "You're supposed to be asleep. Now turn off the lamp and get that way."

The room was dark when she emerged from the john dressed for bed, but Kenny wasn't asleep.

"I saw you down there," he muttered, as she slipped in beside him.

"Oh? You were peeking out the window again, were you?"

"I had to."

She couldn't help smiling in the darkness. "Jealous," she accused.

"I can't help it!" he snapped. "If you won't let me make love to you, then I don't want you letting no one else."

"I told you to forget about that, Kenny. I'm not going to let you. It was a mistake, so why must you keep bringing it up?"

He scooted closer to her and put his hand on her stomach. Marge said nothing. She lay perfectly still while he inched his hand lower. When he got this way, it was easier on both of them for her to let him feel her up a little bit. It wasn't healthy, but neither were his jealous tantrums when she refused to let him touch her between the legs. Ordinarily she didn't allow him to pull up her nightgown, but for some reason she didn't stop him tonight. She was in a rather devilish mood and wanted to see what he would do when he discovered that the crotchband of her panties was sopping wet.

"You're all sticky down there! You let him make love to you, didn't you?!"

"Maybe; but what if I did?" Marge asked teasingly, and immediately regretted saying it. For some strange reason his jealousy flattered her, but she'd never deliberately egged him on before. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I shouldn't've said that."

"Then you did let him fuck you!" Kenny whined in jealous rage, and started rubbing her clefted mound as if it was his right to be rough with it.

"No, damn it, I didn't!" Marge snapped.

"Then why is your pussy all wet?!" he demanded, and suddenly he snaked his small hand in through the elastic legband of her panties. She felt the same as she had that night Frank had put his hand on her. It excited him terribly. "Mama, Mama!" he cried, probing his fingers into the slippery softness of her warm, wet slot.

"Ken-nieee!" Marge wailed, grabbing his wrist. "No, nooh! Oh, honey, you mustn't do that!"

"I got to!" he whimpered, waggling his fingers inside her.

"No! You haven't got to!" Marge said, but his hand was locked inside her panties, and she couldn't get his fingers out of her snatch. "Damn, it, Kenny, don't! Stop it now! That's enough!"

"I can't help it, Mama!"

He wouldn't let up. She was full of hot paste, and he kept swishing his fingers through it. Marge tried not to like it, but it got to feeling good and finally she let go of his wrist.

"Oh, Son, this is so wrong," she sighed. "I shouldn't let you… mmmm… do this to me!"

"It feels good, don't it?"

"Yes, yes! Ohhh, it does!" she crooned.

He began sliding his fingers in and out of her hair-fringed opening, and Marge couldn't deny that it felt lovely. The fact that it was her own little boy frigging her only made it all the more delicious.

"Take off your panties and let me fuck you again, Mama!"

"Kenny, no-ohhh! Jesus, what am I going to do with you? I'm your mother! I ca-can't let you put your peter in me, honey! And I… shouldn't even be… letting you do this!"

"Don't you like it?"

In and out, in and out; his fingers were moving steadily.

"God, yes, I like it! All right… fuck me… but just with… aaaah… your darling little fingers!"

She drew her panty crotchband aside and held it out of his way, parting her legs so he could get at her better. She knew she was playing with fire, wished now that she'd never given in to his tantrums and allowed him to touch her pussy to calm him down. But it was too late for that. The damage was done, and now she was letting him finger-fuck her!

Dear God, what next? she thought. I must be losing my mind! But, he's all I've got… and it does feel good… Goddamn me, why do I have to be so weak?!

Kenny was kneeling over her now, and Marge had kicked back the covers. It felt like he was trying to work his whole hand up inside her. She drew up her legs slightly and spread her knees wide as they would go.

"I love you, Mama!" he panted, giving it to her with all four of his young fingers, his thumb cupped inside them. "I wish we had that rubber thing I fucked you with before! You liked it, didn't you?"

"God help me, but I did!" she admitted, rotating her rump as she grasped his wrist. "Push harder, honey! See if you can get your little hand into my pussy!"

The lad grunted and shoved, grunted and shoved, the way he'd seen Frank do with the dildo. It hurt his hand and made his mother groan as if he was killing her, but he knew she loved what he was doing to her so he kept it up, hoping she would let him do it to her again. Oh, how he wanted to make love to her! He dreamed about it almost every night.

"Aaaggghhhhh!" Marge groaned. "Keep trying! Ohhhhh oh, baby, hurt me! I love ittt!!"

Little by little her elastic cuntflesh yielded to the incessant rough probing of her son's small hand.

"Ithink it's going in, Mama!"

"Yes, yes! Push! Ohhhhh…harder… push, push, ppuusshhh!!" Marge shrieked, her buttocks quivering as she employed the muscles in her shapely legs to help her shove up her steaming twat.

With the aid of her free-flowing vaginal lubricant and the added force of her lifting hips, the hand of Marge's nine-year-old child popped in through the tautly-stretched cuntal opening between her legs.

"Ahhhhh, Goddd!!" she cried, and fell back gasping for breath, her body shuddering with the enormously wicked thrill of their vulgar accomplishment.

"Do you like it, Mama? Does it feel good?"

"Make A Fist!" she gasped, and shivered with the lewdness of it as she felt him closing his hand inside her. "NOW PUT your… arm up… into me!"

If anything, Kenny was more excited than his mother. He loved the feel of her warm, wet cunt and was only too glad to do what she said. He drew his hand up into a fist and, wondering how it felt to her, he started pushing it deeper into her heaving belly.

The crisp hair surrounding her slick, satiny hole brushed the kid's skin as he worked his arm into her slowly but surely. When his wrist disappeared, he paused and glanced up at her face in the semidarkness.

"More!" she panted, and when he gave it to her, she moaned, "Oh, Kenny, yesss! Keep it… aaaggghhhhh… coming!"

Her swollen sex petals hugged his arm like a tight rubber band. The more he inserted into her, the tighter her hair-ringed entrance gripped his ever-broadening forearm. By the time she'd taken half of it, she feared it was going to split her.

"Don't stop!" she said, her hands twisting the sheet beside her undulating hips. "More, Honey! I want mmoorreee!!"

Kenny forced more of his arm into her. He loved his mother more than anything in the world and didn't want to damage her. But she seemed to love the hurt so he figured it was all right.

"Ohhhh,it hurts!" she moaned. "Hurts soo gooooddd!!"

It was as if she'd read his mind. Kenny smiled.

Now he knew it was all right. Maybe if he hurt her pussy enough, she would give in and let him fuck her again! With this goal in mind, the boy began twisting his arm back and forth, pulling it out of her a little before he drove it back in with a grunt, sinking it gradually deeper into that wonderful, hot, wet, hole between her legs.

"Oh, God…ahhhhh uuunnngg-hhh… God, God… ohhhhhhh!!" Marge moaned and groaned, her perspiration-sheened torso jerking blissfully each time Kenny's arm rammed a tiny bit farther into her.

He was stretching her cunt all out of shape, but she didn't care. The wild pleasure of this insane act – which Marge would have thought impossible if it hadn't been happening successfully – plunged her into a fit of raging lust.

Incest! her conscience railed. This is incest!

No, no, no! Marge moaned inwardly. It's his arm not his penis! And I've got to have it! As much of it as he can stuff up me! Even if it kills me to take it!

"More, more, more!" she bleated, nearly passing out with the rapture it produced when his fist started bumping against the hypersensitive neck of her uterus, jolting that feminine organ higher up into her body.

"But, Mama, it's in up to my elbow already!" Kenny squeaked. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Yesss… Aaaggghhh… I'm sure! Impale me with it!Give it to me… ooouuuu… clear up to your… aaahh… shoulderrr!!"

What the passion-crazed woman told her son to do was a physical impossibility, of course, but the excited child did his damndest to please her, and her ravenous snatch actually did swallow his elbow and a couple of inches of his slender upper arm before his fist had her womb shoved up into her shivering torso far as it could go without rupturing something inside her.

"Gawd, gawd, gawd!" Marge chanted, her head burrowing into the pillow as she clawed the mattress beside her quaking hips. "I want… oooohhhhhh… I wa-want…"

"Me to fuck you with my arm?" Kenny asked eagerly.

"YES, YES!" she panted, revolving her hips in a tight, circular motion. "Oh, Good Lord… yesss do it… doo itt!!"

Kenny grinned confidently. He was pretty sure she would let him put his aching peter in her hole before long now. But he wasn't in any hurry. He was fascinated with her hairy hole. It felt nice to have his arm inside it, where she was real hot and wet and soft as velvet. Keeping his fist clenched, he started pulling his arm out to the wrist and sinking it back in till her pulsating orifice snapped over his elbow. In and out, in and out he fucked her with his arm, and the way she sobbed and shook made his own insides feel like they were melting and running together.

"Uunnn-aaahhhhhhh…uunnn – ooohhhhhhh!" Marge moaned as the lewd pleasure of her son's rhythmically pumping arm washed over her in a continual stream of flood-like waves.

It was obscene to the nth degree what they were doing, but glorious! Marge couldn't lie still. It was too fantastically good, the way Kenny's small fist kept her pleasured womb bobbing up and down in her belly like a cork on a wind-swept lake. She thrashed about rapturously with her arms outflung and her palms slapping the bed.

"Kenny… Ken-nieee!!" she said, the cords connecting her thighs to her groin standing out taut as bowstrings, jerking and twitching as she rotated her hips in a grinding up and down motion which threw her twat up to help her young child stuff his arm deep into her heaving belly. "Christ, yesss! aaahhhhh… give it to me, precious! Lord, but that… feels soo… gooooddd!!"

Sweat rolled off her feverish body. Her breath came in great gasping huffs. A continuous flow of pleasured outcries issued from the tremulous lips of her gaping mouth. The blood-engorged lips of her furry gash clung to Kenny's arm, making liquid, lurid slurping noises when he drew it partway out of her, then fluttered submissively and folded in around his forearm when he plunged it back into the moist heat of her secreting vagina, the deeper end of which responded with a joyously lascivious squishing sound.

Slurp, squish! Slurp, squish! Slurp, squish!

The wet sounds of her steaming fuckhole greedily gobbling then releasing the plunging forearm of her nine-year-old child only added to Marge's erotic pleasure. She had no excuse to fall back on this time. She was drunk, yes, but on lust not liquor. The flames of her perverted passion licked searingly at her insides. If this was incest, then so be it, for Marge was enjoying it tremendously.

With every raw-ended nerve in her keyed-up body she could feel her son's fist bumping her cervix like the head of a gigantic cock. His shaftlike forearm kept the soft, slippery ring of her dilated, hair-surrounded slot pumping in and out as it shuttled back and forth, back and forth, driving his fist like a piston into the very depths of her pleasured abdomen. She hoped it would go on forever, but the fantastic sensations it produced soon became too much for her human flesh to endure.

As the bittersweet tensions of preorgasmic delirium tightened her blood-congested loins, damming up the flow of pleasure until it became the sweetest form of torture on earth, Marge sucked in her breath raggedly and bore down with her heels and shoulders. Her spine bent into a bow-shape. For a moment her arched, trembling body hung suspended in the air, her firm/soft asscheeks quivering visibly.

Then the dam broke and her pent-up sexual tensions flooded out from her groin in concentric waves of boiling bliss. Her climax was unbelievably intense. She grabbed Kenny's arm, already into her up to his elbow, and tried ruttishly albeit unsuccessfully to stuff it up into her stomach clear to his shoulder.

"Nnaaaaa-gggaaahhhhh!!" she cried and fell back weakly, her entire torso shuddering ecstatically. "Cumming…cumming… ooohhh, Good Lord… am I ever… cccuuummmiiinnnggggg!!"

She threw back her head, her eyes rolling up until only their whites could be seen.

"Aaaaarrrrrggggghhhhhh!!"

Sweat rolled off her in sheets as a series of flesh-quaking tremors wracked her febrile form.

"Oooohhhh… oooohhhh… ooooooohhhhhhhhh!!"

Her long, shapely legs flailed about helplessly, the pink heels of her dainty feet beating the mattress erratically.

"Uuunnn, uuunnn… aaaahhhh ooouuuuuuuuuuu!!"

It felt as if the incredible blasts of agony/ecstasy exploding deep inside her were ripping her apart at the seams.

"Uuuuunnnnn… aaaaahhhhh… ooooooohhhhhhhh!!"

The total rapture of it overwhelmed her. All she could do was lie there sobbing brokenly when her orgasm reached its excruciating peak, the satiny walls of her juiced-up vagina grabbing convulsively at her son's pussy-engulfed arm as her perspiration-drenched body shivered and shook in a frenzied dance of mind-numbing sexual fulfillment.

"Can I fuck you now, Mama?" Kenny asked, as his mother lazed in the dreamy afterglow of her all-over cum, whimpering and sighing repeatedly.

"I su-suppose… I might as well… let you," she panted, knowing that after what they'd already done, he would keep at her until she gave in or spanked him, and spanking him was the farthest thing from her mind. "I shouldn't… but all right."

"Oh, boy! Take off your panties, Mama, and your nightie, too!"

He backed his arm out of her with a sluu-uurrppp! and Marge sat up and pulled her nightgown off over her bead, then lay back down and raised her midsection so her little boy could take her panties off her. She could see his face by the dim illumination from the night light in the kitchenette. He was terribly excited. She couldn't help thinking how cute he was as he stripped off his pajamas. His little dick was hard as a bone, angling up from his totally hairless groin.

Neither of them spoke now. A sensual smile of calm acceptance played over Marge's face as she scooted to the center of the bed and spread her legs for him. Perhaps she would hate herself for this tomorrow, but not tonight. The mood she was in, it seemed like this was destined to be. She took Kenny in her arms and kissed him the way no mother should kiss her own son, shivering with erotic pleasure as she insinuated her tonguetip between his inexperienced lips and gradually eased her taste organ into the warm, wet cavern of his hot little mouth.

No verbal communication was required to get the idea across to the bright lad. Tentatively he began licking back at his mother's wiggly, lapping tongue while she held him by his aching stem, her other hand stroking his buttocks. She kept making funny little noises in her throat as she squirmed beneath him, rubbing the sensitive head of his erection in a tiny circular motion within the top part of her wet, feverish crack. He answered one of her muffled sighs with a whimper of his own and instinctively started sucking her sweet-tasting tantalizing tongue.

Slowly Marge withdrew her tongue, its tip coaxing Kenny's to follow. When she had her child's small taste organ in her mouth, she sucked down on it and, cupping his quivering young asscheeks with both hands, gave a tug which drew his appealing little peter full into the steaming gash between her parted legs. "MMMMM!" she moaned through her nose, continuing to suck and lick at his tongue. The physical sensations of being penetrated by her little boy's fat, three-and-a-half-inch dick were pleasant enough, but they couldn't compare to the tremendous illicit thrill which giving in to incest provided. It was sinful and wicked but incredibly sweet!

She held him into her right up to his bird's-egg-sized testicles and, trying to swallow his tongue, contracted her cuntal sphincter until the elastic rim of her hairy hole puckered like the top of a draw-string bag to hug the flared base of his pulsating penis. Joyously she began working her sexual muscles, making her pleasured pussy squeeze down on Kenny's pecker in a rhythmical milking action.

"Uunnn, uunnn!" the kid whimpered into her mouth, his body shuddering helplessly. Then he started grunting as his prick pounded with a heartbeat-like cadence in the moist, velvety-warmth of his mother's wonderful hole. Shock waves of orgasmic ebullience blasted through him. He was cumming without having hunched her a single time.

Marge broke the deep, wet kiss and hugged him fiercely. "OH, PRECIOUS, YES, YESSS!" she cooed. "You're cumming in me! I can feel you cumming!Is it good, son? Do you love Mother's pussy? Ooouuuu… oh, cum, cum… have a good cum! Dear God, how sswweeeetttt!!"

At nine, Kenny was much too young and physically immature to ejaculate semen. A couple of drops of oozing, crystal-clear fluid was all his pumping peter produced for his mother's hungry snatch. The lack of sperm didn't matter to her one iota, though, for just feeling her son's penis twitch and jerk inside her thrilled Marge to the core of her voluptuous being. She wouldn't have missed this for the world now that it was happening. It was heaven on earth. She knew it was horribly wrong, but she didn't give a damn.

"Shit!" Kenny panted when he could find his voice. "I wanted to… fuck you… Mama… before I… ca-came!"

"Don't worry, you little bugger," she said with a throaty chuckle of pure delight. "We're not through yet."

CHAPTER TEN

Tomorrow was Sunday. They could both sleep late. Now that they'd sampled the forbidden fruit of incest, Marge realized how truly delicious it was. She had to have much more. In her present mood of sensual licentiousness, she longed for a feast of sinful fornication with her suddenly irresistible little boy.

Damn what anyone might think of me! Marge thought as she rubbed her cheek against the top of Kenny's head and caressed his denuded young buttocks lovingly with the perspiration-dampened palms of her open-fingered hands. No one will ever know. Kenny has proven he can keep a secret.

"So you want to make love to me, do you?" she cooed. "All right, so long as you keep your mouth shut about it, I'll let you fuck me any time we both feel like it from now on. What do you say to that, honey?"

"Oh, boy!"

She laughed softly. "Mother's little lover, that's what you'll be."

"I do love you, Mama. Mote than ever now!"

"Oh, precious, yes, I know exactly how you feel! I didn't think it was possible to love you any more than I already did, but I do. God help me, I do now. You're my pride and joy, Kenny. It's terribly wrong for us to be carrying on this way, but I know you can't help it and I'm afraid I can't either. That damned Frank! If it hadn't been for that dirty bastard…"

Her voice trailed off. It would do no good to blame Frank. He was out of their lives forever and she wanted to forget him. True, he'd forced them into incest; but he hadn't made them like it, had he? Marge had to admit the answer was NO. There was no way she could blame Frank for tonight, because it was all hers and Kenny's doings. But she didn't want to think about that. Corrupting her innocent young son would be vastly more enjoyable than mulling over the reasons why she – who'd always prided herself on her decency – should now be wanting to do such a wicked, unmotherly thing.

"Don't talk about him, Mama. You don't need old Frank or any other man now, do you? I don't want you letting anybody else make love to you. Not ever again!"

"Now, Kenny, it isn't healthy for you to be so jealous of me," she told him, but secretly she was pleased.

Kenny tried to get her to promise she wouldn't ever let anybody but him do it to her. She refused to promise him anything, and couldn't resist teasing him about being jealous. She knew she shouldn't tease him, because it was only making him worse, but it gave her such a charge to have her little boy demanding that she be faithful to him. He wanted her all to himself, and this excited Marge in a perverse manner.

"No, honey," she taunted. "You may as well hush up about that. You're very sweet but you're just a little boy, and if I get to needing a man-sized cock in me, why, then I'll just have to find me a man with a big hard dick and let him give my pussy a good fucking and nothing you can say or do is going to stop me. Of course, if you wanted to watch, like you did that morning at Frank's, I might just agree to…"

Marge was deliberately tormenting her son, and damned if it wasn't turning him on as much as it was her. This was mental sadomasochism, pure and simple, and they were both responding to it. Kenny's soaking penis had gone limp after his climax, but now, as Marge played to his insane jealousy by threatening to let some unknown man screw her in front of him, the boy's small pecker sprang back to an even bigger and harder erection than before.

"Shut up, Mama! Don't talk that way!" the nine-year-old wailed, and he started fucking her like mad, grunting, "UHH, UHH, UHH!"

"That's it, baby!" she encouraged as she caught the frenzied tempo of his thrusting motions and began working with him. "Fuck Mother's hot pussy! Fuck it good! Show me you can satisfy me and… mmmmm… maybe I won't need anybody else to do it to me for… aaaaahh… another week or so! Hump it to me, you little bugger! Ohh, ohhh… oh, that does feel nice!"

They were off and running on a mother/son fucking match, Marge loving every second of it as her possessive young child gritted his teeth and strove to prove that his was the only prick she needed for now and evermore. She whispered in his ear the things she wanted him to say to her, and he threw her lust-inciting words back at her with gusto.

"Shake it, you cock-hungry bitch!" he rasped, repeating his mother's whispered phrase as he stabbed his stony little organ rapid-fire in and out of the sweltering gash between her upraised legs.

"Jesus, yesss!" Marge moaned, her passion doubling at the sound of Kenny's excited voice throwing her own obscenities back at her.

She shook it. Round and around and up and down. Being careful so as not to break their peter/pussy connection.

"Oh, Mama, Mama!" he cried, humping away at her.

Marge began whispering in his ear again, and Kenny echoed her pantingly: "Oh, baby… what a hot… pussy you got! I love it! Throw it… up to me! That hot, wet cunt… harder… faster… fuck, Mother uunnnn… fuck with me… you hot-assed slut!"

"Oh, Goddamn it, yesss!" Marge squealed, for hearing her innocent offspring spout vulgarities gave her a wild and wicked thrill.

Caught, up in a fit of lust, she grabbed his bouncing bottom and started screwing him like crazy. If she hadn't been holding him by the buns, she would've surely bucked him off. The soles of her feet and her shoulders were the only parts of her touching the bed, except for her ass, which kept banging up and down like a jackhammer. The resilient cheeks of her bobbing butt made the bed snap and squeak incessantly.

"Ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhhh!" she chanted blissfully.

The physical effort of it had her sweating again. Soon, she was huffing and puffing, for air, straining for orgasm, almost reaching it time and time again only to have it evaporate as she reached out for it. Lovely as his prick felt jabbing into her – and her son was really trying to please her – it simply wasn't big enough to trip the lever of her climactic release mechanism. She needed something much fatter and longer stuffed up her. As she was contemplating her problem without missing a stroke, thinking how divine his arm had felt, Kenny's pussy-slick organ slipped out of her oversized twat and, much to Marge's shocked delight, it stabbed full into the tiny, erogenous ring of her brownish, puckered asshole.

"Aaaahhhh-goddd!" she rasped, suddenly stopping all motion and holding him into her rectum right up to his balls. "No, no, Kenny! Leave it… right where… it isss!!"

Whereas Frank's big dick had hurt her when he forced sodomy upon her, her son's smaller organ felt marvelous in the tightness of her appreciatively quivering butthole. All at once the solution to her problem dawned on her as if a light bulb had been switched on in her head.

"Do you like mother's ass, darling?" she cooed. "Does it feel as good as her cunt?"

"Oh, boy, yeah!" he breathed, nodding. "It feels even better, Mama! It's so hot and tight!"

"Do you want to finish fucking me in it?" she asked hopefully, and when he nodded eagerly, the said, "All right, but let me up for a minute first! I want to get something in the kitchen!"

Kenny couldn't understand how his mother could think of food at a time like this, but he didn't give her any argument. At last she was letting him fuck her and, man, was it great!

Eating was the farthest thing from Marge's mind, however, as she climbed off the sofa bed and trotted bare-assed into the kitchenette, her womanly buttocks bouncing and her little-girl titties jiggling. That morning Mrs. Nelson had given her an assortment of fresh vegetables from her fall garden, which Marge had washed but hadn't as yet put into the refrigerator. She switched on the light and selected from the counter a cucumber about eight inches long and slightly thicker than her wrist. Leaving the light on – it didn't shine directly on the bed but provided sufficient illumination for her and Kenny to see what they were doing – she padded back into the combination bedroom-living room carrying the cucumber in her right hand.

"What's this for?" Kenny asked when his mother handed him the long, dark-green vegetable.

"You'll soon see," she told him as she lay down in the middle of their bed and drew up her knees with her legs spread wide apart. "I don't know if it'll work, but it ought to. I had a girlfriend once – never mind that, just see if you can push the cucumber up into my pussy, Son!"

Her twat was a shimmering, brownish target surrounded by tight curls of sex-wetted pubic hair. With her muscles relaxed, it yawned open to reveal the glistening red folds of her cuntal vestibule and the crimson ring of her lesser lips which formed the opening of her vagina itself.

Remembering the dildo, Kenny got the idea without further explanation and grinned his approval. At his mother's direction, he placed the smaller, more smoothly rounded end of the cucumber into her furry slot and began inserting it with palm pressure applied to the larger, flatter end.

Her soft, blood-engorged labia majora were coated with a slippery film of the natural, feminine lubricant oozing down from her secreting inner sheath. Since they'd already been stretched once tonight to accommodate the broadest part of Kenny's forearm, they offered little resistance to the phallic-shaped vegetable. Her hairy gap yielded quite readily, in fact, and swallowed whole the eight inches of fat cucumber rather hungrily.

"Oh, wow!" Marge sighed, shivering and squirming about, "It feels terrific! It's got lovely little bumps all over it, Kenny, and I think I felt every one of them while you were pushing it in!"

Kenny spotted something he hadn't noticed before. It looked like a miniature peter, except it was redder and it wasn't actually sticking out of her. He flicked it with his finger, that thing that was standing out in the inverted V at the very top of her pussy.

"Hhhuuuuu!" Marge exclaimed, and she jerked reflexively.

The sudden movement of her previously stilled body caused Kenny to jump back, removing his hand from her hair-ringed orifice, and when he did, her slippery vagina expelled the cucumber. All shiny wet with its coating of her womanly juices, the long, green object shot from her internally convulsing sheath and thumped to the bed between her legs.

The lad was afraid he'd done something wrong. Assuring him that he hadn't, Marge took his hand and placed his finger back on her clitoris. She taught him to manipulate her pleasure button as, between sighs, she explained its delightful function.

"Oh, baby, you're making Mother so hot!" she moaned, after he'd been massaging her man in the boat for a minute or, so. "Put that cucumber back in me now!"

Glassy-eyed with passion by this time, the nine-year-old was only too happy to obey. He picked up the slippery vegetable and stuffed it back up her steaming slot. Then Marge drew up her long shapely legs until the soles of her feet rested flat on the bed near her squirming rump. She opened her upraised legs until they formed a wide V. Then, holding the cucumber with the fingers of her left hand, she used her right to finger some sexual lubricant from her snatch. After she'd applied the woman goo to her erogenous rectum, she took her son by the prick and, pulling him into potion, guided his rock-hard penis into her vulnerable asshole.

"Ooouuuu!" she whimpered as the erotic sensations of being anally penetrated by a male organ which was the perfect size for the job, rippled through her pleasured torso. "Oh, Kenny… darling, this is going to be even better than I'd hoped!"

Now that his little dick was into her, his hairless pubic mound pressing against her furry crack, there was no way the vagina-filling cucumber could slip out again. She threw her arms around the child and hugged him tight before she slid her hands lower and cupped the tensed, hard little cheeks of his boyish bottom.

"Fuck your mama, honey!" she whispered sultrily, her rump revolving ruttishly. "Nice and slow! Stroke that darling dick in and out of my hot ass!"

Anything Mama said was aces with Kenny. Her pooper felt much tighter and hotter around his stem than her mature pussy had. He'd thought her pussy was the most wonderful thing in the world, but man, her butthole was even better! Bracing himself with his elbows on the bed beside her ribcage, he laid the side of his head on the relatively flat area of chest between the small mounds of her pert little titties and began fucking unhurriedly into the snugly encircling ring of her lubricated anus.

"Oooh, oooh, ooooh!" Marge chanted, when he got going with a smooth, steady rhythm.

He was pumping her forbidden rear portal with approximately three-inch strokes. Each time he backed his sweet dick partway out of her clinging asshole, the elastic walls of her packed vagina sprang back sufficiently to tug her womb forward. Its tender mouth would bump against the rounded end of the cucumber and, like a plunger, push it forward, making the larger end protrude about three inches from the slippery opening of her puffy-lipped snatch. Then Kenny would jab his peter back into her appreciative rectum, his fatty mound catching the end of the portion of cucumber which her pussy had forced out, and his downward momentum would drive the long, fat object full into her again, its smaller end shoving her womb back up into her belly and enlarging her vaginal sheath to make it take every bit of the wrist-thick, eight-inch cuke.

The cucumber felt refreshingly cool, but other than that, the sensations it provided were amazingly similar to the glorious ones which Frank's larger than average dong had given her, and brute or not, her ex-lover had turned her on to intercourse and made her love it, whereas she'd only submitted passively to her husband and had rarely enjoyed it during all the years of their marriage. Those days of sexual disinterest were gone forever now, however, and Marge was sighing with the sensual pleasure of it as her son sodomized her, his screwing motions keeping the cuke – the consistency of which was almost identical to a fully erected male organ – shuttling incessantly back and forth in her overjoyed vagina.

"Ohhhhh… oh, Kenny…baby… oh, Lord, it's goooooddd!!" she said, tugging him into her with her hands cradling his butt as she pressed down with her feet and shoved up to meet him halfway. "Aaahhhhhh!!"

Indeed it was good. It was as if her precious little boy had two pricks – one the perfect size for her hungry pussy and the other one ideal for plugging the erogenous smaller opening of her pleasured rear portal – and he was giving them both to her at once, sodomizing her and screwing her simultaneously.

"Mmmm, mmmm!" she moaned, the muscles in her legs contracting and relaxing as she worked with him to heighten their mutual enjoyment of this unusual, deliciously sinful act of mother/son incest. "God, yesss… I love it…love itt!!"

Marge was keenly aware of the nodules which stood out from the irregular outer surface of the large cucumber bobbing within her slippery tunnel, for they brushed against the satiny walls of her secreting vagina and kept the sensitive inner surfaces of her blood-engorged labia majora fluttering delightfully. And the further stimulation of feeling the smooth, elastic rim of her gripping asshole pumping in and out around the shaft of her son's thrusting dick gave her a steady stream of the most voluptuous sensations. When she'd gotten the idea of inserting a cucumber in her vagina while her son cornholed her, she'd expected to enjoy it but, good grief, she hadn't dreamed it would feel this terrific! It was ridiculously good!

"Kenny, Kenny!" she panted, her abdominal muscles rippling beneath the silky softness of her perspiration-glossy skin. "You're buggering me… so good! Ohhhhh… oh, it's lovely… love-leee! Harder,baby anhh, yes, yes… and faster, too! Fuck it… into me… that sweet dick! Cornhole Mother's…hot ass and… ooooh…make her… ooouuuu… make her cummm!!"

"I think… I'm 'bout to, toooo!!" Kenny squeaked, and he slipped his small hands in under the upper slopes of his mother's jouncing buttocks as he answered her call to action.

The lad's boyish behind flew up and down, his achy peter plunging like a piston in the snug, furnace-hot cylinder of her anal canal, while his pubic mound stuffed the bobbing cuke back up her fast as her pulsating pussy tried to push it out.

"Ooohhhhh… yes, darling, yesss!" she sobbed, her well-proportioned rump gyrating to the cadence set by Kenny's rapidly pumping prick. The frenzied friction of it was setting her asshole on fire, making it tingle and itch like everything, while the combined motion of their arcing hips kept the long, thick cucumber flying up and down in her slick, velvety vagina, its deeper end increasing her pleasure immeasurably each time it banged into the supersensitive neck of her uterus and shoved that pear-shaped organ of femininity back up into her belly. "Shit, shit… ohh, sweet shit! I'm going… out of… my mind! Go, baby, go! Hump me! Ram it to me! Ahhhhh… Mother's little lover… precious angel… uunnn, uunnn, uunnn… yeah, yeah… oh, Goddamn it… yesss… fuck me, fuck me… ffuucckk mmeeee!!"

His mother's passionate outcries spurred the boy on. Whimpering blissfully, he speeded up the tempo until he was cramming his throbbing stalk up her quivering butthole fast and hard as he could go.

This was precisely what Marge wanted now. Her orgasm loomed on the horizon and she was rushing toward it. The cords connecting her thighs to her groin stood out boldly, jerking and twitching as she employed the muscles in her legs to help her slam her cock-hungry asshole up to her son. The copious production of clear cuntal secretions oozed from her hairy gash and trickled luridly down the crack of her furiously bobbing butt. The bottom of her vaginal well was full of hot woman paste, causing her to squish lewdly each time the synchronized efforts of their lunging together drove the cucumber all the way back into her pulsing snatch.

"Uunnn, uunnn… oh, Jesusss… now,Kenny!" she yelped, giving it everything she had for a moment, her wild gyrations making the bed groan and pop in protest. Then she slammed down with her feet and shoulders, holding Kenny hilt-deep in her winking rectum as her body arched upward. She hung there briefly, her bowed torso supporting the insignificant weight of her slender son while the perspiration-sheened globes of her lovely rear end did a quivery dance in midair before she collapsed back to the bed with the child atop her, sobbing, "Now,son! Oh, my gawddd… now, now, nnoowww!!"

The roiling rapture of her unfurling orgasm engulfed her completely, blotting out her conscious awareness as it picked her up and carried her soaring to the heights of carnal fulfillment.

"I'M CUMMING!" she bleated, her torso thrashing about… "Cumming. Cuuum-mmmiiinnnggg… cccuuummmmmmmiiiiinnnnngggggg!!"

The strong walls of her vagina clamped down harshly on the embedded cucumber. Had it not been for her son's denuded pubic mound, pressed tightly against her hairy hole, her cunt would've expelled the slippery cuke like a submarine launching a torpedo. As it was, the larger end of the phallic-shaped vegetable thudded against the lad's groin and stopped abruptly, only to have her convulsing snatch suck it back in a split second later. As the cucumber's smaller, more rounded end banged back into the hypersensitive mouth of her orgasmically spasming womb, Marge threw back her head and voiced her delight with a guttural: "Wwwhhhaaaahhhhhhhhh!!"

This was too much for the child. His mother's fluttering assflesh was grabbing at his throbbing peter like the mouth of some huge, fever-crazed bloodsucker. Her anal rim alternately tightened and relaxed around the base of his buried stem, hurting and feeling marvelous to him at the same time. It felt as if her ravenous asshole meant to chew off his pecker even with his body, and Kenny didn't much care if it did, for the suctioning effect of her snapping rectum drew him into orgasm along with her.

"Mama… Ma-maaa!!" he hissed through gritted teeth, and then his mouth fell open as his lust-glazed eyes clenched shut. "Uunnn, uunnn… Mama…ung, ung, unggghhhhh!!"

His stubby prick gave a mighty throb, its head expanding to the limit inside her anal canal. Then Marge could feel it twitching with the unmistakable rhythm of his spermless climax.

"God Almighty Damn how sswweeeettt!!" she groaned and, overcome with a surge of incestuous motherly love, she nearly squeezed her blissfully grunting child in half. "You're cumming… with me! I can… ahhhhh… feel you! Oh, Kenny! yes, precious, yesss… oooohhhhhh… cum, baby, cuummm!!"

"Ung,ung… aaahhhhh-ggaaaahhhi hhh!!" the boy cried.

"Ohhhhhhh!" Marge moaned, her sweat-glistening torso shivering ecstatically. "Kenny… lover… my little angel! Oh, Jesusss… nnnaaaahhhhhhhhh!!"

Her head rocked mindlessly from side to side, her belly heaving and her asshole sucking at the three-and-a-half inches of throbbing young dick stuck up her butt. It was divine, both of them cumming together, her son's shuddering body holding the pleasure-giving cuke full into her joyously spasming pussy while his darling little long pounded away in the heated depths of her spastically quaking rump. If this wasn't heaven, then it was close enough to suit Marge, for she'd never had a better screwing than the double-reaming which her son had just given her.

"Ooooohhhhhhh!!" she groaned.

And Kenny answered her with a series of sighs, grunts, and rapturous moans: "Aaaaahhh… unn, unn… ahhhhhhh… ohhhhhh… uunngggg… ohh, ohh… ooouuuuu-aaahhhhhh!!"

"Uunnn-gggaaahhhhh… oh, sonny bbooyyy…Mother loves… yyyooouuu… gawd, gawd… ohh, Jesus Goddd…it's sooo… Goddamned…ggoooooddddd… haaaa-llaaaaahhhh!!"

They clung to one another like no mother and son should, both of them sobbing and shuddering and moaning aloud with the nearly excruciating ecstasy of their simultaneous cumming.

"Okay, honey, you can back that sweet dick out of me now," Marge said after the rewarding moment of their incestuous union had passed. "I believe we've had enough for tonight, don't you?"

The head of Kenny's limber penis departed his mother's gripping rectum with a wet-sounding pop not unlike the uncorking of a small bottle.

"I can scarcely move," Marge sighed, as her son rolled off her and her fingers caught the pussy-wetted cucumber that came sliding from her hairy hole. She tossed it over the side of the bed and let it fall where it would. "Whooo… what a fucking you gave me!"

Kenny grinned. "You won't let nobody else now, will you?"

"Well," she drawled tauntingly. "Not tonight, anyway. Now go wash your peter, my jealous little lover, and let's see if we can't get some sleep."

Marge smiled to herself as Kenny got up and toddled off to the john. After the way he'd satisfied her with the aid of that long, fat cucumber, she was glowing with a sense of physical well-being. She knew they shouldn't have done it, but strangely enough she didn't experience enough guilt to disturb her lazy mood of relaxed voluptuousness.

She was smoking a cigarette when her son climbed back into bed.

"Love me?" she purred.

"Yeah," he replied grudgingly. "And you better not let nobody else make love to you, either."

"Jealous," she said, and laughed softly.

"I can't help it, Mama!" he wailed.

"I know you can't, dear," she replied as she got up to turn off the light in the kitchenette. "That's what makes it so delicious."

Kenny snuggled up to her when she got back in bed. He'd put his pajamas back on but Marge was still nude. She finished her cigarette, mashed it out in the ash tray, then rolled onto her side and took him into her arms.

The way she was feeling now, her own sweet, insanely jealous son was the only lover she would ever be wanting from this night on. But his possessiveness pleased her more than he would ever know, and she wasn't about to tell Kenny anything that might change his attitude.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

One session with her boss in the anonymity of a motel room was enough to cure Marge of any serious leanings she thought she might have toward all-out female dominance. It was exciting at first, stripping down to her nylon hose and garter belt then putting on the boots and leather chastity belt with the broad waist cinch buckled above her hips. The leather bra Jim had was made to show the nipples of tits much larger than hers, so Marge pitched it away before she picked up the whip and began parading tauntingly around the room for him.

It turned her on a little to walk on his naked, prostrate body, digging the spike heels of the thigh-high black boots he'd bought for the special occasion into his more than willing flesh. She didn't mind flogging him, either. In fact, it gave her a perverted thrill to lash him and hear his moan of painful bliss as he jerked and writhed about. But she tired of this unusual, strenuous sport before he'd had enough. He wanted her to draw blood with the whip, and she couldn't bring herself to go quite that far.

His disappointment was evident, but it didn't stop him from groveling at her feet when, at his urging, she stripped naked and sat down on the edge of the bed. He began at the soles of her feet, holding them one at a time as he slavishly licked every possible inch of each sweaty foot then sucked each red-nailed toe individually.

Shrimping, Jim called it, but whatever its name, this part of their illicit interlude was highly enjoyable for Marge. Having her legs licked wasn't bad, either, and she loved it when he spit-bathed her buttocks, especially when he got going in the crack of her ass, the tip of his tongue tickling her anus every time it swept past. Then he pried apart her asscheeks and started eating her asshole itself, sucking it and tongue-fucking it as if it were a miniature cunt.

Marge was ready to cum when Jim ruined it all by requesting that she honor him with a turd. He actually wanted her to start shitting and allow him to eat her excrement directly from her body while it came sliding out of her butthole.

Just the thought of doing such an unspeakably filthy thing turned Marge off. She refused to oblige him, but after much begging on his part, she finally agreed to give him a piss shower. They went into the john and Jim sat in the tub, his knees drawn up to his chest, while she stood above him spraddle-legged and urinated down onto his upturned, enraptured face.

The next day at work she had no respect for her boss whatsoever, which only made him all the more eager to become her complete and devoted slave.

Day after day he pleaded for another session in a motel, but Marge kept putting him off. He made her sick now. She started looking for another job and found one much more to her liking – day hostess at a really nice restaurant – before she quit without notice, leaving Jim in the same predicament which she'd bailed him out of in the first place.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Marge loved her new job. It was the type of ladylike position she'd visualized for herself when she'd first found it necessary to seek employment. Her self-doubts behind her, she wore less make-up and dressed more becomingly for her age. She felt very feminine and confident, and it shone through in her cheerful disposition and graceful manner.

She and a dentist who lunched regularly at the restaurant soon became quite friendly. Doug was a few years older than Marge, a widower whose youngest child was in college. When he asked her to attend a concert with him, and bring her son along, too, Marge was delighted to accept.

All in all they had a very pleasant evening. Since Kenny was included, and seemed to like Dr. Alcorn, the jealousy Marge had expected from her son failed to materialize. Until they got home, that is, and Marge sent Kenny up to their apartment while she remained in the car with Doug, perfectly willing to be kissed goodnight by him. He was a professional man, doing very well financially, which made him ideal husband material, Marge was thinking.

When Marge entered the apartment with her lipstick smeared, perhaps a half-hour after she'd sent Kenny up, the lad was in bed, naked, with a hard-on and a cucumber.

"What happened?" he asked excitedly. "Did Doctor Alcorn fuck you, Mama?"

Marge smiled. This was her boy, acting just the way she liked him to. She kicked off her high heels and began disrobing in front of him.

"No, but he certainly kissed me a lot, and I let him pet my pussy. See how wet my panties are?"

She whisked her dress and slip off over her head and stood with her legs apart, in stockings, garter belt, panties and bra, so Kenny could view the secretion-soaked condition of her panty crotchband.

Bobo, who spent about half the time at Mrs. Nelson's now, was in the apartment tonight, lying on the floor at the foot of the bed. The big German shepherd caught the scent of Marge's aroused snatch and got up wagging his tail. He walked over to her and nuzzled her between the legs with his muzzle. But Marge, who'd only succumbed to bestiality that once, slapped him good and hard, and Bobo went back to the foot of the sofa-bed and flopped down dejectedly on the floor.

This did not go unnoticed by Kenny, but he'd seen the family pet trying to smell his mother many times before so he thought little of it. He'd been imagining what Dr. Alcorn might be doing to her in the car, and he'd worked himself up to a feverish pitch of desire.

"Come to bed, Mama. I want to make love to you."

"Of course you do, dear," she chuckled. "I knew it would be this way. Well, come on, jealous, aren't you going to scold me for letting Doug feel me up?"

Kenny shook his head. His jealousy was taking a different course tonight.

"Oh?" Marge said. It was a disappointment for her. She loved it when he gave her hell for even talking about letting a man ball her. That's what she wanted him to do now. "Uh-huh. Well, I suppose you're thinking Doug got me hot, and now you'll get to finish the job. Is that it?"

Kenny grinned cockily.

"And you will, too," she said. "But let me tell you something; I wasn't thinking about you while Doug was kissing me and rubbing my cunt. The next time I go out with him, you're staying home. I think maybe I'll let him go all the way, too. What have you got to say to that?"

Kenny winced. He gulped, squirming a little as hie thought about what she'd said.

This is more like it! Marge thought. I shouldn't taunt him that way but I can't help it. He's so cute when he's jealous!

"He put my hand on his cock," Marge went on as she reached behind her and unhooked her bra. "I wouldn't let him take it out, but I fondled it through his trousers. It felt like it was nearly as big as that cucumber you've got there, Son."

"Shut up!" Kenny yelled.

Marge smiled and rubbed her crotch. "It was hard as a rock, too. Damn, it felt good! Mmmmm! Yes, I believe I will let him stick it in me Saturday night. That's when he's taking me out again. By myself this time, and…"

"Mama, please!" Kenny wailed. "Don't talk that way!"

She removed her panties and started unhooking her nylon hose from her garter belt. "Your peter's twitching, Kenny. I think you're about to cum, aren't you? Tell Mother, does it make you jealous, knowing that Doug is going to fuck me?"

"Yes!"

"But there's nothing you can do about it, is there, sonny boy? Your little balls, do they feel all hot and achy for me?"

He nodded tightly. "Come to bed!"

"Of course, precious," she cooed and, dropping her garter belt to the floor, she sat down on the edge of the bed to remove her nylons.

This would be the fourth time she'd let him make love to her. Not that he hadn't wanted to more than that, almost every night in fact, but generally she would only let him feel her twat through her panties before she pushed him away and told him to go to sleep. Although she couldn't resist giving in to him occasionally, it did make her feel guilty afterward. After all, he was her son, and he wasn't even ten years old yet! She kept telling herself that it wouldn't happen again, but it had, and tonight she just couldn't help herself. She was in one of her wanton moods. In fact, she felt downright licentious, and all she'd had to drink was a brandy hours ago, after the sumptuous supper Doug had bought them before taking them to the concert.

When she lay down completely naked beside her son, he pushed her legs apart and knelt with his head above her groin so he could look at her fascinating hairy hole as he probed its dew-moistened petals with his little-boy's fingers.

"You should always kiss a lady first," she told him. "Not just dive at her cunt."

"Shit," he replied. "You're no lady. You're my hot-assed mother!"

"Mmmmm!" she purred, and tousled his neatly trimmed sandy hair. "Be careful what you say, darling. You know how hot it makes me when you talk that way. Unless you think you can handle a wild woman, watch what you say."

"Wild woman!" he huffed. "Cock-hungry slut is more like it!" He captured her erecting clitoris between his thumb and forefinger and gave it a tweak.

"Ohhhhhh! Oh, you little bugger!" Marge moaned, rolling her rump to egg him on. "How I love you, Kenny! You're so sweet I could just eat you up sometimes!"

"You're always saying that!" he snapped as he scrambled up over her and sat down on her chest, his legs pinning her arms to the bed. "Now do it! Suck my dick! The way you did Frank's!"

"Kenny, no!" she scolded. "You know I won't do that! I don't like it!"

Kenny wouldn't be put off this time. She'd done it for Frank and, now that he'd taken the man's place, she could damn well do it for him, too. He skinned back his three-and-a-half incher, picked up his mother's head the way he'd seen her ex-lover do, and began brushing the rosy crown of his pecker back and forth across her closed lips.

"You might not want to, Mama. You didn't want to at first for Frank, either. But you did it, and you liked it, too, didn't you?"

"Noom!" Marge whimpered through her nose, refusing to part her lips for fear she would weaken. She knew she wasn't fooling Kenny, for he'd seen her go bananas blowing Frank. But it made her feel so dirty and depraved to perform fellatio, and she didn't want to sink that low with her own son!

Goddamn you to hell, Frank Dixon! she railed mentally. This is all your fault! Why, oh, why did you have to degrade me in front of Kenny the way you did? Bastard, bastard! I hope you get a disease and your cock rots off! If it hadn't been for you, Kenny and I would still be decent people!

But, again, the damage was already done and despite Marge's protestations, it gave her a lurid thrill to have her little boy holding her down, rubbing his swollen dickhead against her lips. She had the strength but not the desire to throw Kenny off.

"Come on, baby," her child was saying, parroting Frank, she supposed. "Open up. You know you want'a take a suck on my fuckstick."

And, God help her, she did want to!

"Kiss it a little bit," Kenny's voice droned in Marge's ringing ears, as he insistently probed the bluntly rounded tip of his tempting glans penis between her lips. "Come on, lick my knob, and then I'll let you show me what a greedy cocksucker you really are!"

Marge couldn't resist. In a roundabout way, it was her own fault, and she knew it, for teaching Kenny to speak to her this way. It always melted her to hear him talking dirty to her, and this time was no exception. With a mounting sense of delicious humiliation, she pursed her full, red lips around the end of his crown and kissed it wetly.

Smack, smack, smack!

One kiss led to another. She moved her head about, planting fervent kisses all over the rosy surface of her kid's penile bulb.

"That'a girl, Mama!" the child exclaimed. "Lick it now!"

"Yes, yes!" Marge whimpered. She stuck out her pink tongue and swiped it over the forefront of his taut-skinned knob. "Oh, Kenny, we shouldn't be doing this! It makes me feel so dirty!"

"You're gonna suck it!" he told her. "Take me all the way and I'll let you drink the gravy! That's what you want, ain't it, hot ass? A big mouthful of cum?"

She couldn't help laughing. "Oh, precious, stop talking like that bastard Frank. You're just a little boy. You don't have any gravy to give me."

The lad grinned sheepishly. "You're gonna do it, though, aren't you, Mama?"

"I ought to have my head examined," Marge told him. "But, yes, I am going to suck your darling little dick. I want to now, so get off me and lie down. Hurry!"

"You bet!" Kenny squealed. He jumped off his mother and lay down on his back with his legs apart.

Marge knelt between his legs, grasping his appealing goober in one hand and cupping his small, hairless testicles in the other as she leaned over him.

"It's so hard, Son, and hot too!" she sighed, squeezing his stem fondly. "What a sweet little pecker you've got!"

She took the shaft between her red-nailed fingers and drew up on it, forcing the protective hood back up over his glans until the forefront of his prepuce pouted out like a hollow finger of silky flesh. And it certainly was silky, she discovered when she impulsively kissed the loose folds of his protruding foreskin.

"It's so soft and warm!" she exclaimed.

Staring fixedly at his peter, she moistened her lips with her tongue, then, feeling utterly wanton, she wrapped her red oral petals around the distended mass of penile tissue and sucked it into her mouth as far as its elasticity would allow.

"Oh, Mama!" Kenny gasped. It felt lovely to the boy, but watching her do that to his dick was what really excited him.

"Mmmmm… delicious!" Marge sighed, gently nibbling his foreskin with the sharp edges of her front teeth.

Then her lips enclosed the preputial excess again, and Kenny could feel his mother sucking it and licking it at the same time.

"Shit, that feels good!" he told her. "Do harder!"

With her child's passionate outcry ringing lewdly in her ears, Marge bit down lightly on his hidden dickhead and sucked his distended foreskin harder. She teased the tip of her tongue into the opening and lapped enticingly at the pouty little mouth located at the very end of his concealed glans. Her suction a moment before had drawn up a drop of clear precoital fluid from his shaft, and the musky flavor of his boyish nectar delighted her taste buds. Ruttishly she probed the front of her tongue deeper and started twirling its insatiable tip round and around the sensitive forefront of his crown.

His foreskin was like a living glove around her tongue. It gave her a terrific thrill to lick the head of his peter this way, with her tongue inserted into his drawn-out hood, its satiny inner surface forming the walls of an elastic cylinder which her lustful tongue took great pleasure in brushing against.

"Ooooh…aaaaahh!" Kenny sighed, for his mother was massaging his aching young nuts with her palm as well as tantalizing his prick with her lips, teeth and tongue. Her fingers had curled under his squirmy bottom. The middle one had insinuated itself into the crack of his ass and was now playing up and down the fleshy gorge. He could feel the sharp edge of her long, red fingernail tickling his rectum each time it passed over that portion of his anatomy. "Mama!" he gasped. "I'm 'bout to cummm!!"

"Are you, darling?" she crooned, taking away her hands and month simultaneously just when she knew he needed them the most. She felt deliciously dirty now, was in the mood to suck his young dong as she'd never sucked Frank's, but she longed to hear him telling her what to do. She threw him a seductive smile, licking her lips before she intoned, "And what do you expect Mother to do about it?"

"Take it in your mouth! My Peter! And suck itt!"

"Would you like me to skin it back first?"

"Yes, yes! Hurry, Mama!"

"You want me to be your cocksucker? Is that it?"

"My cocksucker! Yeah!My greedy cocksucker! Do it, do ittt!!"

"God, yes, I'll do it!" she sighed. And with that, she peeled back his foreskin all the way and wrapped her soft red lips around the top of his shaft. Her oral petals molded themselves to his stalk and she sucked down hungrily on his denuded bulb. Her tongue sprang into action curling this way and that over the salty-tasting smoothness of his musk-flavored knob.

"Ahhhhhh!" Kenny cried, his entire body shivering as he grabbed his mother's head and buried his fingers in the scented, silky strands of her disheveled brunette hair. "Suck it, bitch!Suck it, suck ittt!!"

"Mmmmmmmm!" Marge moaned around her mouthful of palate-pleasing pecker. Nothing could've delighted her more at this moment than to have him call her a bitch. His throbbing dome was expanding with preorgasmic pressure inside her mouth. It made her feel incredibly wicked knowing her son was about to go off in her mouth. She sucked all the harder, flailing his pulsating crown with her tongue to hasten his climax.

"Now, Mama, nnoowww!!" he shouted, bowing up and shoving her head down simultaneously.

The rest of his pounding peter lurched into her oral cavern, its rounded tip embedding itself in the soft membrane lining the back of her throat. Her puffy red lips were mashed flat against the perspiration-moistened skin of his totally hairless groin.

"Unnn… ung, ung, ung, ung, uunnggghhhhhh!!" he grunted groaningly, falling back to the bed with her head still locked to his body, her nose flattened against him now, too, and his heaving lower abdomen pressing over her eyes so she couldn't see a thing.

Seeing wasn't necessary, however, for Marge could feel the head of his dick ballooning in the upper region of her throat, the shaft twitching and jerking about in her oral cavity.

Dear Lord, how sswweeeettt! she thought, her tongue laving slavishly at the large vein running the length of his shaft's undersurface as she sucked voraciously at her son's orgasmically pounding prick.

"Cumming! Ohh, Mama, aaaaahhhhhhhhhh!!"

He didn't have to tell her that! Although he ejaculated nothing because of his tender age, the way his darling dong quivered and twitched told Marge without a doubt that her precious little boy was spending his pent-up lust in her vacuuming oral cavern. And how she loved having him do it!

"ooohhhhhh… Mama…that's good… aaaahhfihhhhhh… better than… ooouuuu… your asshole… mmmmmm… even! Bitch, bitch… hot-assed slut… suck it… nnaaaahhhhhhh… my ccoocckkkk!!"

Marge thought he would suffocate her before he released her head. Finally he did let go, and she came up sucking, her soft lips pulling out obscenely around his weakly throbbing stem as she drew air in through her passion-enlarged nostrils. Pausing with only the head of his precious peter in her mouth, she sucked down like a desperate vampire who intended to drain him of his life-juices, and was rewarded with several viscous drops of heady-tasting adolescent sexual liquid.

"Mmmmmmm!" she moaned delectation, savoring the luscious boyish secretions, her taste buds tingling appreciatively, before she swallowed his slippery, milky-white precum that tasted faintly like semen even though she knew he was much too young to produce real sperm. There was only a small amount, but its delicate flavor was indescribably delicious.

She swabbed his glans immaculately clean with her tongue before she allowed the deflating shaft to pull the spongy bulb from her reluctant lips with a lascivious, wet slurping noise.

"Aaaaaaahh… ooooohhh!" Kenny sighed.

A fatuous smile of fulfillment was plastered on the girlishly pretty face of her young son when Marge looked up. "Well, Son, now you've got mother going down on you, too, haven't you? Jesus, what's going to become of us? I should spank your bottom good, and if I had a lick of sense, that's exactly what I'd do."

"Aw, Mama," he said with a grin.

"Don't 'Aw, Mama' me!" she whined, feeling guilty as hell. Then her attack of morals passed as quickly as it'd welled up, and she grinned back at him. "Yeah, yeah, don't look at me like that. I enjoyed giving you a blow job, and you know it, don't you, smarty pants?"

"Yeah, and you're a damn good cocksucker, too, Mama."

Marge laughed aloud. "I suppose you mean that for a compliment, so thank you, but how would you know, you sweet little fart? How many blow jobs have you had, anyway?"

"Just this one, is all, but there couldn't never be one any better than that. Oh, Mama, I just loved it!"

"I know you did, darling, and so did I. But what's your poor mother supposed to do now?" She flipped his limber, spit-coated penis. "It's no good to me in that condition."

She was still kneeling between Kenny's legs, her curvaceous rump sticking out invitingly, and Bobo, who'd forgotten the rebuffing slap by this time, was prancing about at the foot of the bed, whining and licking his chops. Due to the frequent uses of his sexual talents by Mrs. Nelson, the German shepherd was a confirmed pussy-hound by now, and the heady fragrance given off by his mistress' twat was having its inevitable effect on him.

With a single BARF! to announce his intentions, Bobo leaped onto the bed and licked Marge eagerly, his tongue slapping into the curly triangle below her upside-down snatch, then dragging upward between her puffy labia majora before it washed luridly over her asshole on its way up through the crack of her pleasantly surprised behind.

"Oh, nooh!" Marge sighed. "Bobo! Stop that!"

But the horny animal was concentrating on her cunt alone now, his lust-inciting tongue dipping rapidly into the parted split of her succulent gash, and Marge couldn't seem to move a muscle.

"Ohhhhh… Damn it… don't… ahhhh… no, Bobo, nooooohhh!!" Marge sobbed, but his incessantly lapping tongue was sapping the strength right out of her.

It felt marvelous! If it hadn't been for Kenny, Marge wouldn't have protested at all. But she didn't want her son to see their pet licking her, and if she knew Bobo, licking wasn't all he would want to do to her! With a half-hearted attempt to maintain at least some semblance of decency, Marge emitted a mournful wail and reached back with her left hand, frantically slapping at Bobo's head.

"Don't hit him, Mama!" Kenny, who was taking this all in with a great deal of interest, told her.

"But, Son!" she panted, trying to keep that telltale expression of carnal pleasure from taking over her face. "He's licking me!"

Kenny grinned. Bobo was his buddy from way back, and he was just a dog, so he didn't mind if Bobo wanted to lick his mother's pussy. It seemed funny to the boy, and it sort of excited him, too.

"He's not hurting you, is he?" Kenny asked.

"No, Son, but… ooouuuu… he's a dog! Oh, make him quit, Kenny!"

"Why? You like it, don't you?" he asked unnecessarily, for the glassy appearance of his mother's eyes, together with the odd expression on her face, told him it was feeling real good to her.

"Yes… I do… but, Kenny! Oooohh! It's wrong, and… oh, damn it… I'm afraid you'll… think I'm… just awful!"

"Aw, Mama, let him lick your pussy, I don't care. It's okay for Bobo to do it."

"You mean… you want… him to?"

"Yeah!" Kenny replied excitedly. "Don't you?"

Marge licked her lips. That flashing red tongue was feeling better with each passing second. She couldn't lie at a time like this. A pleasured moan escaped her wetly quivering lips, and she nodded.

"Good!" Kenny yelped, pushing up onto his elbows. "'Cause I want'a see it!"

"All right… then watch!" Marge told him.

"But, Kenny… he's going to… want to… fuck me, too… and oh, Jesus… I don't care if you don't! Aaaaahh! Oh, Bobo… yess, baby…lick me de-eeppp!!"

The child was all eyes. He couldn't actually see the canine tongue lapping at his mother's privates, but Bobo was standing behind her kneeling form, his head lowered to her butt, wagging up and down, and her face mirrored the lustful pleasure it was giving her. His peter was already regaining its lost erection as he scooted out from under her head. He wanted to see everything. She'd said Bobo would be wanting to fuck her, too, and he could hardly wait to see that!

"What are you doing?!" Marge whined, as her son turned clear around and, on his back, began sliding in under her headfirst.

"I want'a see it, Mama!" he said, and slipped in between her straight, torso-supporting arms, working himself lower as her tits, upper abdomen, navel, belly and pubic mound, in that order, flashed into view above him.

When his head came to rest between his mother's parted knees, he was able to look up through the soft, white columns of her thighs and get a clear view of the action. And, man, was it something to see! The swollen lips of her hairy hole were pouting partway open. Bobo's long red tongue was lapping rapidly into her wetly-shimmering, brownish slot, spreading her hair-rimmed crack wider open then letting it flutter as it closed just a tiny bit before he could lick into it again.

"Oh, boy, Mama, Bobo's really going at you, huh?"

"I should say… aaaahhh… he is!" Marge sighed.

"You ought'a see it!" Kenny exclaimed.

"I d-don't mmmmmmm… need to see it!" Marge panted. "I can feeelll… ohh, shit… what he's… d-doing… ohhhhh… to meee!"

"It feels good, I bet!"

"Oh, Kenny, yesss!" she whimpered. "You couldn't believe… how good… ooouuuu… it does feel n-nowww!"

Kenny got to thinking her pussy must taste awful good, the way Bobo kept licking it. It was all juicy and red on the inside, he noticed, and her elongated clitoris was standing out like a crimson finger of flesh in the hairy V at the top, which was the bottom of her cunt from his present vantage point. The nine-year-old's curiosity got the best of him and, since he thought nothing of sharing an ice cream cone with Bobo, each of them taking licks as he passed it back and forth, he didn't hesitate a second once he'd made up his mind.

"Let me taste her, too, Bobo!" he said and, pushing the dog's head out of the way, he raised up, stuck out his tongue, and licked into his mother's succulent gash.

"Ken-nieee!" Marge wailed. "Wh-what you d-doing?!"

"Lickin' your pussy, Mama! And I like it, too! Oh, boy, it tastes real good!"

One flavorful lick of Marge's tangy slot was enough to turn her horny little boy into an eager muff diver. He flung his arms around her hips and, holding to her womanly buttocks, opened his mouth wide and glued his lips to her sex-wetted gap. The surrounding hair felt sort of scratchy but not unpleasant to his chin and cheeks. Following his instincts, Kenny shot his tongue far as it could go up into the velvety warmth of his mother's secreting inner sheath.

"Aahhhhh… oh, yes, yesss!" Marge gasped. She'd meant to tell him no, not after the dog had been licking her! But it felt so good to have her child's tongue waggling around inside her that she completely forgot about the unsanitary aspects of it. "Oh, Kenny… darling… ohhhhhh… deeper! Fuck me with unnn… your tongue, baby! Yes, yes, yes! Suck mother's cunt… aaaaah… gooooddd!!"

He pumped his tongue in and out of her, his lower lip inadvertently rubbing back and forth over the nerve-rich head of her blood-glutted clit as he did so, and Marge thought she would swoon with the rapture it caused.

My own little boy! she sighed silently. Sucking me off. Going down on my pussy! I love it… lloovvee it! Lord in heaven, there's no hope for us now! Incest, incest… ohh, it's divine! I'll never get enough of my precious angel! Never, never!

Caught up in a fit of passion, Marge began worshipfully licking her son's stiff little peter and his small, denuded testicles.

Spurred on by his mother's lust-inciting tongue, Kenny squeezed the spongy pillows of her asscheeks over his face. He inhaled the pungent aroma of her sweaty anus as he sucked down harshly on her pulsing pussy. His voracious suction brought him an immediate reward. The silky walls of her vagina were working overtime to produce an abundance of slippery woman goo, a mass of which was now being vacuumed from her. A wave of the viscous stuff rushed down from the depths of her honeyed well and gushed into the boy's suctioning mouth.

"Uunnnnn!" Kenny moaned.

The inundation of female sexual secretions had a musky flavor all its own, which required no getting used to. He liked it right off, despite the thick consistency of its warm wetness. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world for him to swallow the delicious substance and suck her pussy for more of the exciting hot paste he'd felt in her but had never tasted before this. Man, her pussy was good! The youngster was thinking he'd like to suck it all night long!

As she laved his dick and balls, Marge rimmed round and around the smooth edge of her child's tiny, puckered rectum with the ball of her middle finger. After only seconds of toying with his appealing aperture, however, simply rimming it wasn't enough. She stuck her finger in her mouth to wet it, then started gently inserting it into his buttonhole anus, being careful not to scratch him with her long, red-lacquered fingernail.

Kenny whimpered. His body tensed. She paused with her finger into him past the first knuckle. Then he whimpered again, never taking his mouth from her clefted mound, and she felt his fingers probing at her anus as he pushed up desirously toward her hand, his action popping his tight butthole over the second knuckle of her naughty finger. Realizing he wanted it all, she gave it to him with one deft jab, burying her entire, long but slender finger into his rectum clear up to the palm. "Do you like it, Son?"

"Mmmmmm!!" he moaned into her snatch, and stuck his finger up her erogenous rear portal.

"Yes,yesss!" she squealed, and began licking his bird's-egg-sized nuts as they started finger-fucking one another's appreciative assholes, Kenny sucking her twat fervently all the while.

Recalling how lovely it'd felt when her ex-boss licked her rectum, Marge decided to pleasure Kenny that way. It was a terribly nasty thing to do, Marge thought, but he was her child, her own flesh and blood and, the mood she was in, nothing was too sordid for her now. In fact, the dirtier the better, for she was feeling incredibly dirty and sinful!

His tight anal ring clung to her brown-tinged finger as she backed it out of him. It was as if, now that she'd been jabbing it up him, his anus was very reluctant to let it go. It made a soft popping noise when the end of her finger broke free of his distended aperture.

"Oh, darling!" she crooned, and licked her parched lips as she gazed longingly at his winking orifice. "What a cute little asshole! Mother's going to kiss ittt!!"

She fingered his buttocks wide apart, pursing her lips, and planted a wet, loudly smacking kiss directly into his brownish buttonhole. An illicit thrill rippled up her arched spine.

"Jesus!" she moaned and, overcome with emotion, she extended her tongue and began slavishly licking up and down the sweat-dampened gorge of her little boy's held-apart bottom, the tip of her taste organ flicking his anus in adoration each time it darted past.

"Naaaahhhhhh!" Kenny cried with delight as he ripped his mouth from her juicy crotch and jerked his small fingers – he had two of them up her butt – from her rectum. "Lick it, Mama! Lick it, lick ittt!!"

Anything she could do, he could, too, couldn't he? Besides, wasn't her asshole better to fuck than her pussy? Hell, yes, it was, so it only stood to reason that it would taste better, too!

He pulled the smooth white moons of her luscious rump apart and stuck his face between them with his mouth wide open. Out came his tongue, its tip searching and finding its mark. With a groan, the lad pressed his lips to the crinkled brown skin surrounding his mother's anus and rammed his tongue all the way up her butt.

"Huuuu-aaahhhhhhhh!!" Marge screeched, nearly pissing, it felt so marvelous, and without the slightest hesitation, she returned his oral favor in kind, shivering with the double-barreled pleasure of having her butt speared with tongue as she shot her own taste organ up into the tart-tasting depths of Kenny's tiny asshole.

The boy had been wrong. Her butthole didn't taste near as good as her steaming pussy. But his tongue was full into her by the time he discovered this, and she seemed to like it so much – was doing the same thing to him and, man, did it feel great! – that he had no regrets. Actually, the inside of her ass had a tangy flavor all its own, which wasn't bad once the initial shock of it had passed. His mother was sucking his pooper now, plunging her tongue in and out of it, and he was more than willing to do the same, really wild-feeling things to her.

Mother and son clung to each other's buns, performing frenzied analingus upon one another, as their big dog, who was left out in the cold, trotted round and around their indecently locked-together bodies, yapping in frustrated desire. Bobo's long, slender red penis protruded from its furry sheath like an angry spear, its pencil-eraser head dripping canine precum onto the bedclothes. The big German shepherd was ready and eagerly searching for a hole, any hole, so he could bury his dick in it and get in on some of the action.

Because of the strain involved in his awkward position – hanging onto her thigh-elevated hips from below like a monkey – Kenny stopped eating his mother's butthole while she was still going strong on his. His neck was hurting when he let go of her feverish buttocks and allowed his head to fall back to the bed. He lay there whimpering with delight as her lips continued to suck at his tingling rectum, her long, hot tongue reaming rapid-fire into his pleasured anal canal.

Above him he could see her hairy slot fluttering and snapping with the intensity of her lustful desire. She was full of hot goo again. It was dribbling out over her swollen cuntlips in rivulets, stretching down from her crotch in silvery, sparkling strings that dangled obscenely between her thighs. Droplets of her over-abundant pussy juice pattered down like warm summer rain upon the boy's face. He opened his mouth to catch the glutinous strings of yummy woman paste oozing down out of her copiously secreting vagina.

Keep it coming! he thought. I'll drink all you've got! And don't stop sucking my shitter… ohhhh… whatever you do, Mama!

At last Bobo spotted a hole, two of them in fact, and the big German shepherd reared up pawing the air. His canine tongue was hanging out when he mounted Marge's kneeling body from behind, just as if she were a bitch in heat he happened upon some alley. The pointed tip of his turgid penis embedded itself in her spit-slick anus. It didn't matter a whit to the ruttish animal which of his mistress' holes he used. He wrapped his forelegs around her waist, and letting out a yelp, hunched every bit of his long, tapering prick into her defenseless anal aperture.

"Nnnaaaaahhhhhhhh!" Marge squealed, her head flying up and back with her mouth agape.

It felt like at least a yard of red-hot dog cock had been rammed up her cringing asshole. But she wasn't complaining, even though it took her breath away. This was what she needed now – a good, stiff dick to ream her ass deep and hard.

"God… ohh, gawd!" she groaned, when Bobo started hunching his dog dick to her with a flurry of motion, his back arching swiftly to drive his red prong like a piston in and out of her gripping, fluttering brown anus.

What his penis lacked in girth – and it was bigger around than Kenny's at the base – was more than made up for by its length and hotter-than-human temperature. Marge thought she would faint, it felt so unbelievably good! Bobo's plunging pecker was packing her feces back up her colon. Evidently the pointed tip of his rod had speared the lowest turd, for she could feel with every jangling nerve in her pleasure-soaked body the fat, hard plug that was bobbing up and down in her anal canal at the end of the dog's furiously thrusting organ.

"Oh, my stars!" she trilled, shuddering ecstatically as the lewd bliss of it bombarded her lust-enslaved brain. "Jesus… ohhhhhhh… oh, sweet Jesusss!!"

"Hump it to her, Bobo!" Kenny cried excitedly. "Mama likes it up the ass! Cornhole her good!"

"Yes, yes!" Marge agreed, her hand shaking like a leaf as she reached out for the cucumber Kenny had had waiting for her when she came in the door. "And you," she gasped, handing the phallic-shaped vegetable to her son, "Can shove… this thing up… my cunt… and fuck me… with ittt!!"

"You bet, Mama!"

It sounded like a great idea. Kenny wasn't about to give her any argument. He took the long, fat cuke from her trembling hand and worked its smaller end into the quivering gap between her legs. Since it shut off the fascinating view of Bobo's tapered peter pistoning into her expanding and contracting brown rectum, the lad wasted no time getting the cucumber into his breathless mother. He captured the rear of it in his right palm and, with a single forceful push, skewered it swiftly in through the stretchable, secretion-slick outer folds of her hairy crack, making her cunt take the whole thing in one quick, flesh-straining gulp.

"Nnaaaa-gggaaahhhhhh!" Marge croaked, as the rounded end of the cucumber crashed against the tender neck of her uterus with a jolt that jarred her teeth.

But, again, she wasn't complaining; for although the rough penetration had caused her a certain amount of physical discomfort, the vulgar thrill of having the large cuke stuffed up her seared her intestines with a fiery blast of unadulterated carnal pleasure. She sucked air gaspingly, her perspiration-sheened body shivering and shaking rapturously as her big dog continued to drive his pecker a mile a minute into her tremulous bowels.

The shape of Bobo's driving dong – about the size of a pencil eraser at the tip and flaring back to a base slightly larger than the circumference of Kenny's penis – kept Marge's nerve-laden anus opening and closing around it several times per second. Each time he hunched it to her, it was like being penetrated for the first time all over again. The German shepherd was going like sixty. He clung to her feverish torso with his forelegs, his tongue hanging out, dripping saliva on her back as his arching spine kept his rear end flying back and forth.

Marge's big dog was sodomizing her faster than any man alive could ever hope to do. His ass was a blur of motion, that ramrod dick of his ramming deep into her roiling bowels, the fat turd impaled on its tip acting like a plunger within the elastic tunnel of her quivering shit chute. The rapidity of Bobo's deep, turd-packing thrusts was pumping her full of the most gloriously perverted pleasure. Now that her little boy had stuffed that big cucumber tip her snatch, it was getting so good she could hardly stand it!

"Oh, Jesus… ahhhhhhh… oh,Christ!" she said, shivering with lewd delight from the top of her head clear down to the tips of her dainty toes. "Fuck it into. me… ooouuuu… you beautiful beast! Ahhh, God… up my ass! Deeper harder… faster!Cornhole the… naahhhh… shit out… ohhhh… of meee!!"

"It feels good, huh, Mama?!" Kenny asked excitedly.

"Good Lord,yesss!" Marge wailed. "Oh, Kenny…son… I'm dying! Burning up! Ohh,ohhhhhh! My clit… suck it, baby, pul-eezziee?!"

The lad threw both arms around her waist, slipping his hands in between her back and Bobo's hairy belly, and pulled himself up. Her pulsating pussy tried to expel the cuke. He caught the end of it with his teeth and shoved it back up her, his face splatting in the slippery crack of her steaming twat. Bobo's tight nuts tap, tap, tapped against the top of his head, while the undersurface of the dog's slick, heated shaft sawed luridly at the middle of his forehead. In his excitement, Kenny didn't mind a bit. Holding the cucumber in his mother's vagina with the front of his upper lip and the end of his nose, he enclosed her tiny woman cock with his lips and drew it into his mouth far as it would stretch. He began sucking her clitoris for all he was worth, and scrubbing its raw-red head furiously with the roughened upper surface of his scratchy little tongue.

"Haaaa-lllaaaahhhhhh!!" Marge trilled, the features of her face twisting into a mask that clearly mirrored the intensity of her salacious delight.

She grabbed her son's prick and skinned it back roughly. Heaving a whimper-like sob, she took the top half of it into the moist heat of her hungry oral cavern. Her puffy red oral petals tightened around Kenny's shaft and she started blowing him like the greedy cocksucker she realized at last that she truly was – and wanted to be – her insatiable tongue curling ruttishly over the taut-skinned surface of his salty, musky-tasting dickhead.

Time stood still for Marge. What with the cucumber jiggling around in her pulsing cunt, Bobo's pecker ramming in and out of her erogenous asshole and her throbbing clitoris being sucked by her horny child, Marge was half out of her mind with the incessant bombardment of carnal pleasure which the diversified stimulation of her raw-nerved privates produced. The three-way connection of mother, son and dog was blatantly obscene, but Marge responded to it with every nerve and cell in her sweat-soaked, forty-three-year-old body. Illicit thrills careened about inside her. She'd never dreamed that sex could be as wild and wickedly exciting as this.

She felt the lump of canine semen begin popping in and out of her fluttering rectum as it worked its way up Bobo's febrile red shaft, and she was ready for it. Her own orgasm was threatening to blast her apart any second. Her voracious act of willful incestuous fellatio had Kenny's darling dick quivering with the onset of his impending climax and, more than anything, she wanted the three of them to go off together.

A few seconds later, Marge got her wish. Bobo emitted a howl and crammed his tapering prick all the way up her burning, itching asshole for the final time. The force of his spiraling canine ejaculate blew the turd off the end of his balls-deep dong like an over-sized cork from a spring-powered popgun. The impact of it jarred her intestines and, a split second later, the torrential gush of her pet's release flooded her bowels with a squirting inundation of superhot dog cum.

The surging mass of sticky animal sperm gave her an enema such as she'd never had before. As the massive load jetted into her ass with a single, geyser-like eruption, it triggered her release mechanism and sent her hurtling into a climax of her own.

"Mmmmm-nnnaaahhh!!" she moaned around her mouthful of pulsating meat, her fiery-red clitoris twitching rhythmically as it drew back jerkily from her son's suctioning mouth and disappeared into the fluttering folds of inflamed cuntflesh at the top of her joyously spasming hairy hole.

The head of Kenny's peter swelled up like a balloon in the vacuum chamber of her rapaciously suctioning mouth, then began throbbing urgently as the child heaved a mournful moan of fulfillment into her sopping-wet pussy. His arms lost their grip on her waist and his head fell back to the mattress between her knees. The cucumber started slipping down out of her snatch, looking for all the world as if she was growing a huge, obscene green cock. Marge grabbed it with her trembling, red-nailed fingers and pushed it back up her clasping vagina until she could feel its deeper end touching the hypersensitive mouth of her convulsing womb.

"Mama!" Kenny gasped, his stony young organ, pounding blissfully inside her gluttonous mouth. "Ohhhhhhh…ung, ung… aaaahhhhh… uunngg… ma-mmmaaaahhhhhhhh!!"

Marge's quivering red lips drew out lasciviously around the white, spit-slick column of her son's boyish turgidity as she lifted her head. SLURP! came the lustful report as she lost his blood-engorged glans.

"Oh, yes, darling… gawd, gawddd!!" she groaned, and started lapping up the few precious drops of milky-white boyish cream as it bubbled up from his adolescent loins and oozed luridly from the tiny, pouting mouth at the tip of his expanding and contracting pecker.

The twin channels of her vaginal and anal sheaths were clutching spastically at the fat cucumber and the twitching canine phallus stuffed up them.

"Mmmmmmm!" she moaned, smacking her lips in delectation when she swallowed the scrumptious reward of pure sexual nectar her greedy tongue had collected as it seeped from the urethral opening of her young son's adorable, orgasmically pulsating penis.

"Uunnnn, uunnnn, uunnnnn!" Kenny chanted, his slender, nine-year-old body shaking rapturously.

"Aaaahhhhhhhh!!" Marge answered him, her dilated sex split dribbling hot cunt oil as a series of flesh-quaking tremors wracked her perspiration-drenched torso. "Cumming! Ohh, sweet shit… we're all cccuuummmiiinnnggg!!"

Kenny pushed his mother's hand out of the way and shoved his small fist into her gaping, snapping snatch, driving it in until the other end of the cuke jammed her climactically convulsing womb clear up into the lower part of her heaving ribcage.

"Wwwhhhhaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!" Marge bleated, for her little boy's vulgar action doubled the already ungodly pleasure of her spine-wrenching climax.

"Take it… ohhhhhhh… take it, ma-maaahhhhh!!" the lust-lost child squealed.

"Yes, yes ohhh, yesss!!" Marge groaned gutturally, her puffy red lips drawing back over her clenched-together white teeth as Kenny beat at the lower end of the cucumber like it was a punching bag, making the deeper end of it bang rapid-fire against the raw-nerved neck of her dislocated, orgasmically spasming uterus.

And the long, red cock of their dog was still buried to the hilt in her butt, its pointed head spitting cum into her churning bowels as its superheated shaft pounded with a heartbeat-like rhythm in the gripping cylinder of her rippling, pleasure-soaked anal canal.

Sweat poured off Marge's shuddering body.

"Aaaahhhhh… Aaaahhhh… Aaaahhhhhh!" she chanted, her head drooping down in a series of jerky motions until it came to rest between Kenny's thighs.

With the point of her chin nuzzling her child's saliva-moistened asshole, Marge mindlessly rubbed her sweaty, lust-contorted face against the comparative coolness of the sheet.

"Aaahhhh-gggaaahhhhh… ooooohhhhhhhhh… uuuunnnnnnn… aaaahhhhhh… oooouuuuuuuu… ohh, Jesus Goddd…mmmmmm… aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!!"

She began blubbering incoherently as her all-consuming climax reached its excruciating peak. It was unbelievably good, this fit of agony/ecstasy which had taken, her over body and soul. Marge thought she would die!

Afterward she was limp as the proverbial dishrag. It felt as if every ounce of strength had been wrung out of her weakly twitching body. Her hands were still shaking when she fired up a much-needed cigarette and propped herself up with a pillow.

"You still going out with Doctor Alcorn Saturday night, Mama?"

"Uh-huh," Marge sighed, exhaling a cloud of bluish smoke.

"You gonna let him make love to you?"

Marge smiled. "Honey, I don't know. If he gets me hot enough, I suppose I will."

"He's a nice man," Kenny said.

"Yes, he certainly is," Marge replied.

"I don't think I'd mind too much," Kenny volunteered. "Long as you don't let nobody else but him."

"Oh?" Marge drawled. "Mother's little lover wouldn't be jealous?"

"Oh, I'd be jealous, all right," Kenny admitted. "But if you'll tell me about it when you get home, and let me do it to you, too, then it'd be okay… I think."

This was a pleasant surprise for Marge, her son/lover giving her permission to enjoy Doug's sexual attentions, for the wealthy dentist had quite a hammer on him and she was looking forward to their next date. And the way Kenny had put it, she knew it would only make their incestuous sexing more exciting if she came home well-screwed and told him all about it.

"Okay, you sexy little bugger," she giggled mirthfully. "I'm going to take you up on that. You may be sorry, though. Doug and I are quite attracted to one another, and I get the feeling he's looking for a wife. How would you like it if we decide to get married?"

"Just fine," Kenny grinned, "I like Doctor Alcorn a lot, but I'd be getting home from school a way lot sooner than he'd be getting home from his office, so we'd still have plenty of time to ourselves, wouldn't we?"

Marge laughed softly. She mashed out her cigarette and took her pride and joy into her arms. "Don't you worry, Son. Mother will always have time for her little lover, no matter what else happens."

Content

Jane Tanner
Mother and son together

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE