She moved back on the mattress and spread her legs wide, making room for the teen and pulling him down onto her fever-wracked chest, tight against her throbbing tits. She kissed him deeply, letting her tongue search far into his mouth and taste her own cunt flavor, the teen's sweet taste, and Johan's leftover cum, all mingled together in their mouths, swapped back and forth from one to the other. Then, breaking the kiss, she said, "Now, dear, just move between my legs. Don't rush, we want this to be just right. There, like that, just a bit closer. See, you've got to line up the angle of your cock with the tilt of my hips. Look at it, dear, see ray old pussy, how it's spread wide open for you, for your cock. I want you to always remember me just this way, my cunt, your first fuck. I want you to actually look at it all the time you're sticking your dick into your first pussy, that way I know you'll always remember it. Go ahead, dear, don't wait any longer. Put it in. I want to feel your big cock slicing up into me."
Erik looked down at the gaping maw of fuck flesh that was hot and eager for him, juicy and slick and more fuckable than any cunt had ever been. He looked at his cock that was eager for her fuck hole, juicier and slicker and more fuckable than it had ever been. He took it in his hand and used it like a pointer, butting it up against her clitoris and letting the heat of her pussy register to the nerve-endings of his cockhead, then slicing it from side to side, rubbing it against her outer cuntal lips and sobbing in rapture. He braced himself, his hips tense and ready for the inward slide that would, in one slick sliding motion, divest him of his virginity forever.
"Erik! Barbara! Where are you? I'm home!" It was Betty Sue, calling to them from the living room, ten feet away from the nearly fucking couple, from the nearly de-virginized teen, from the almost fucked enough older woman.
"Shit!" Barbara Jean said, sliding, out from under the teen like a snake and grabbing her clothes, rushing across the hallway and into her own room just in time, while Erik, moving equally fast, closed the door to his bedroom and rushed into his bathroom, turning on the shower and getting beneath the tepid water, his enormous, throbbing, painfully aching cock standing rigid and unfucked before his disappointed eyes.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Swensen water bill took a sudden rise. Everyone, it seemed, was taking long hot showers to wash away fuck stains and sex odors. Or taking cold showers to wash away frustration and unreleased sexual tension.
Betty Sue Swensen herself had already done her share of showering, of running up the family water bill. She didn't even think it was peculiar that her son and her sister would find it necessary, at the very same time, to take showers, and since she respected the privacy of Erik's bedroom, she didn't even look in long enough to detect the telltale scent of his cocksucking, cunt eating, so their secret was still safe, for the moment, along with the teen's detested virginity. Instead of being curious about other people's sex problems, being so overwhelmed with her on, Betty Sue went into the kitchen and began preparing the evening meal.
She decided on broiled halibut with garlic lemon sauce, an avocado on anchovy on Romaine salad and potatoes. While she had been out aimlessly driving around, trying to resolve the shame she felt at her adulterous behavior, she had wandered through a supermarket and picked out the things for dinner almost unconsciously.
Betty Sue busied herself peeling the potatoes and preheating the broiler. She was just about ready to put the potatoes on the stove when Barbara Jean came into the kitchen wearing a light blue housecoat and running a towel through her damp hair, making the red strands appear somehow darker, more fiery.
"Oh there you are, Betts," she said. "I thought I heard you just before I took my shower. Ummm, that looks good. Can I help with something?"
"Sure," Betty Sue said, "you can wash and strip the Romaine leaves for salad, if you don't mind. Did you see Johan? How was he feeling today? Did he say whew they were going to let him come home? Did he look normal to you?"
Barbara Jean started laughing and grabbed her sister, giving her a big juicy kiss right on the lips, grinding her mouth down against Betty's until it opened and their tongues danced together, the tips touching and pressing close.
"Not so many questions at once, Betty," she said, grinning broadly. "Of course I saw Johan, and he looked very good indeed. As a matter of fact, I've never seen him more relaxed and… I guess I could definitely say satisfied. And as a matter of fact, they did tell me to tell you that he can come home late tomorrow afternoon, before dark."
"Oh, how wonderful!" Betty Sue said, making a mental note to telephone the hospital and confirm Johan's release, wondering how she could avoid contact with Dr. William Montgomery at the same time. "It'll be so good to have him back home where he belongs."
"I'll say," Barbara Jean said, her cunt spasming and remembering the stretching, full-stuffing feeling of Johan's big Swedish cock sliding between her cuntal lips and into the depths of her soft buttery fuck hole.
Betty Sue had to call Erik twice to get him to come into the kitchen and eat his dinner. As it was, he hardly touched his fish or his salad, eating only his potatoes. He seemed so flushed and agitated, as if he might be coming down with some illness, that Betty Sue fought off the nagging feeling that she should be worrying about him, rather than letting her mind drift back again to her own sinful depravities to her incestuous lesbian lovemaking with her dear sweet sister and to the furious fucking with Dr. Montgomery in the hospital examining room and, incredibly, to the no-holds-barred free-for-all religious fuck in her own bedroom with the black preacher from the neighborhood church. Incest! Perversion! Adultery! What sin was left for her to commit?
Still, after they had finished eating and Barbara Jean opened yet a third can of beer for herself and she was glad to see her son go to his room to go to bed early. Betty Sue made it a point to knock on his door, later, after she finished the beer.
There was a peculiar heady aroma hanging over the teen's bed, almost like fuck smells, but not quite. A little cunt smell, she thought, and a little cock smell, and lots of feverish excitement. God, what is my mind doing to me, imagining such awful things in my son's bedroom? It must be all that beer I've been drinking, or the after-dinner Colombian marijuana I shared with Babs.
Smiling down at her drowsy son, Betty Sue leaned over the bed and gave him a good-night kiss right on his lips. For just a fleeting second his lips parted and his tongue snaked through them to caress his mother's lips.
Damn, did I imagine that too? she questioned herself. Then, breaking her kiss and starting to straighten up from her bent-over position, she was startled to find that her hand, below his belly, had been grasping and clutching at something big and firm and throbbing.
Oh my God! she thought when the full realization struck her that she was actually holding her son's cock, through the blanket, and kneading it unconsciously in the most wanton and depraved fashion.
Embarrassed, hoping that Erik, almost asleep, didn't know she was groping his hefty cock, Betty Sue quickly released his cock shaft and left the room, closing the door silently behind her and hurrying back to Barbara.
"Babs," she said, coming back into the kitchen, "you won't believe it, but Erik's got a hard-on. I accidentally brushed up against it… Jesus, he's got a big dick."
"That's for sure," Barbara said, just finished washing the dishes and grabbing two more cans of beer.
"What?" Betty Sue asked, taking one of the cans I and pulling the tab open.
"Oh, I said he probably does," Barbara said, fingering a brown-wrapped Trujilos special from her dope stash and lighting it quickly. "Here, have a hit of this Panama Canal special."