Twenty Cups Ch. 02

More cups need filling with Mom and sister's help.

I mentioned before that the ladies of my house told each other everything they knew about me. If they found out something going on in my life, it was openly discussed amongst them at the kitchen table, right in front of me. I said that they had secrets, and I had none.

But, that isn't quite right. While it's true that my secrets were openly dissected and theirs weren't, the fact is: they had secrets, and I knew quite a few. I just didn't talk openly about them.

I was their secret keeper. For whatever reason, my sisters liked to tell me the things they wanted to keep hidden. Maybe it was because I didn't talk much. Maybe it was that they just needed to speak with someone who they knew would listen. Maybe they wanted to impress me. Whatever. My sisters snuggled up and told me their secrets.

After lunch on the day that Mom had used her mouth on my penis for the second time, Emma decided to share a secret concern.

I had just finished eating lunch after a workout and a shower. Lia was out. I was on the couch, ensconced in my fuzzy blanket, taking a nap.

I was almost asleep when I heard Emma. "Hey, fuzzy boy, can I snuggle?"

I nodded and opened the blanket.

She slid in against me, and I wrapped us both together. Her frizzy hairs tangled themselves in my whiskers, and I wiped them from my chin.

"You're warm," she mentioned.

"Just showered."

"Oh," she said, "Do you know Kevin Waller?"

"Year above you in school? Dark hair, kinda short?"

"Yes, and he's not short. You're tall."

I grunted. Then, I said, "What about him?"

"He's my boyfriend."

"Yeah?"

"I really like him."

I grunted.

"Secret time?"

This was how she asked if I would keep matters private. I said, "Yeah."

She said, "We're starting to do stuff together—sex stuff."

I didn't respond.

"I think I'm going to let him be my first, let him fuck me."

"Em!"

"Oh, come on! Don't be like Mom and Lia. I like cuss words."

I grunted.

"Whatever. Look, I want to ask you something."

I waited.

"Every time we're together, he wants me to give him a blowjob, but he won't—you know—reciprocate. Is that normal?"

"Huh?"

"Do most boys think pussies are gross or something and won't eat a girl out?"

"No."

"I really want him to. That isn't wrong, is it?"

"No."

"It's only fair, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"It makes me feel like I'm gross or something down there."

I said, "Dump him."

"No! I like him. That's the only thing. Everything else is perfect."

I grunted.

We laid together in silence for a time. Finally, Emma said, "Will you..." She stopped herself, and then, quickly, said, "Forget it."

"What?"

"Nothing."

I didn't pursue it, and a few seconds later, she rose and left without a word.

***

Mom sat on the couch beside me after she came home from work in the late afternoon. "I have a meeting tomorrow morning, and I won't be able to be home for you."

"Okay."

"Thank you, baby. If you don't mind, then, I'm going to ask Lia if she might be willing to be in the room with you, should you need it. Will that be satisfactory?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I'd really like to be there for you, but this meeting is very important."

"Be fine, Mom."

"Just let Lia know if you need her help, okay?"

I nodded.

She kissed my forehead and left to make dinner.

Emma ended up staying the night at a friend's house; we didn't see her that evening.

After dinner, I grabbed my big blanket and laid on the couch. Mom was on the phone in her room, talking to her sister.

Lia, wearing a new set of form-fitting pants, came into the family room.

She climbed on top of me, blanket and all, and sort of clutched my body in her arms and legs. "Did you talk to Mom?" she asked, her voice full of gloom.

"Yeah."

She nodded. "Me, too." She hugged me and said, "I'm sorry about the other day."

"Huh?"

"Masturbating you—I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"It's disgusting, being treated the way Mom is treating you—like you're some sort of sperm donor. You don't want your mother and sister even watching you do something so private and intimate, much less doing it for you."

I kept my mouth shut.

She went on. "I'm sorry I did it, and I'm sorry I got excited by it. It's just...I'd never held a penis before. I wanted to know what it was like, and being able to make you ejaculate...I don't know...it made me feel like I was sexy and beautiful." She sighed. "But, it was wrong. I'm not proud of of myself."

I rolled underneath her so that we were facing each other.

She went on. "So, I wanted you to know that I'm okay with ignoring Mom this time. I want to give you your privacy, and we can just tell her I was there."

"You're not going to help me?"

"I won't. It's totally disgusting, and I never want to treat you like that again." She rested her head sideways on my chest, looking out toward the tv.

"Lia, did you like anything about doing it?"

Silent for a few moments, like she wasn't sure how to answer me, she eventually said, "It wouldn't be true to say I hated it. I didn't. I liked it, and I'm glad that I learned to do it."

"What did you like?"

"Are you asking just to know what girls think about doing it?"

"Yeah."

"I liked how your erection felt in my hand. I liked having my hand be all greasy and slippery on your penis. I liked how what I was doing, it...you couldn't stop yourself from feeling good. I liked how it felt when you ejaculated. I liked the smell of your sperm. When I was looking at it in the cup, I wanted to taste it. It's gross, I know—you probably think I'm disgusting. I just want to be truthful with you."

I couldn't talk.

She finished, "So, do your thing, and we'll tell Mom I was there. Your older sister will stay out of your business. I just...I feel terrible about what happened, and I'm so mad at Mom. You deserve an apology from me..." She stopped.

My penis was growing and pushing into her tummy.

"Is that...are you getting an erection?"

"Yeah."

Lia got up from the couch. Her face grew pink. "I'm sorry. I'll...I'll just stay away." She left quickly.

I wrapped the blanket around myself.

Several hours later, long after dinner and watching a holiday film together, I wandered upstairs, alone, for bed. Outside Lia's room, I heard the faint sound of music. I knew the song from somewhere, and then I had it: it was the song Keyra danced to in one of her videos. I quietly opened the door.

Lia's drapes were closed. Her phone was sitting on her desk on it's side. Keyra was dancing. Lia was standing behind the desk, watching the video. She was in panties and a tee-shirt, and she was dancing. I watched her from behind.

Lia's bottom outweighed Keyra's, but it had proportional curves. Lia moved well. I enjoyed watching her. Her hips gyrated from side to side. Her butt arched back, pushing the curve at me. Then, it sunk down a bit. She repeated the action very quickly, and she looked like she was having sex with the air between her legs. She stopped.

Lia's hands reached back and wedged her panties into the crack of her bottom, and then she bent her body into a right angle, butt to me. Keyra did the same thing in her video. Lia shook her bottom for a few seconds, and then, grabbing the chair, she squatted and ground her crotch near the floor.

I couldn't move or quit looking.

Suddenly, Lia rose and spun. Her huge breasts stretched the fabric of her tee shirt, creating three long bulging creases that spanned between each round mass on her chest. Her pink panties hugged the curves of her body in front, as well. I loved looking between her legs and seeing absolutely nothing. It was a beautiful absence, a perfect place where her skimpy panties, flat against her body, slipped between her legs.

But, Lia wasn't dancing anymore. I looked up at her, and she was staring at me, frozen. The video kept playing behind her.

Her eyes took me in, but they stopped and remained fixed. I looked where she was looking.

She was staring at my crotch, where my penis swelled out from my body at her like an outstretched arm, pointing and accusing.

Lia's chest rose and fell. She looked into my eyes. For a moment, I thought I saw pride.

Then, her face changed to exasperation. "You can't just barge into my room like this! Go!"

I left.

***

The next morning, Emma was out with her boyfriend when the time came. I grabbed a container and walked past Lia on my way upstairs.

I sat on my bed. I had the lubricant, the tablet, and the container. I stripped naked and laid on the bed. Using the tablet rest, I watched my favorite Keyra video—the same one I saw Lia dancing to the night before. I touched and squeezed my penis, but it made little difference. I tried another video. Still nothing.

I got out of bed and walked around my room, frustrated. I did not want to masturbate. I wanted Lia or Mom.

There was a small knock at my door.

I walked to it, and opened it.

Lia.

"Have you finished?" she asked, warily, it seemed.

"Didn't really start."

Lia looked at me expectantly. "Can I come in?"

I opened the door for her.

She came in, saw me naked, and hastily walked to the chair.

I locked the door behind her.

Deliberately looking away from me, she asked, "Why haven't you gotten started?"

"Can't focus or something."

"Why not?"

I gestured to the tablet. "Video's not doing it," I said. Then, I sat down on the edge of my bed.

She did not respond for a time. Eventually, she offered, "If I help you get excited, will you let me watch? I've never seen one go from soft to hard. That's all I'll do. I promise."

"Okay."

Her face looked like she was restraining her own eagerness. "I know you got an erection from watching my bottom when I was dancing last night." Her cheeks turned pink. "But, I won't get to see it if I'm shaking my butt for you. We need to do something else. So, what will work?"

I waved her closer. She rose from the chair and stepped over. When she stopped, I urged her further. Finally, she stopped a few feet from me. I held her arms and tugged her down. Lia got on her knees in front of me.

She looked nervous. She'd pulled her hair back in a ponytail, and it trembled. She wore a thin, Irish green long-sleeve shirt that buttoned about a third of the way down in front. Only the top button wasn't fastened. Lia's breasts struggled against the fabric, bending and stretching it in two large, sweeping curves.

I acted as if I were unbuttoning my own shirt—I wasn't wearing anything—and Lia understood. I held up my index finger: just one button.

She unfastened the second button from the top; a hint of cleavage appeared.

My penis moved, and Lia saw. She continued watching it, and when nothing else seemed to be happening, she looked up at me.

"More buttons," I said. She unfastened another one. Two buttons remained, and I reached for them with my hands.

She let me, and I unbuttoned the last two, revealing the bridge of her white lace bra and two bulging swaths of creamy white flesh above the bra's neckline. I ran the index and middle fingers of both hands over her fine, satin-like skin. Then, without asking, I encircled both breasts with my hands. I gently squeezed, and their mass and firmness resisted the pressure.

Lia watched my penis grow.

I lifted the bottom hem of her shirt, and she allowed me to pull it up and over her head. I took her arm, and led her hand to my developing erection. She held my penis lightly on the tips of her fingers and thumb.

I drew her closer, and Lia inched toward me on her knees. I reached around her back and unhooked her bra. The straps lurched forward on her shoulders when the weight of Lia's breasts was no longer harnessed. I took the straps and slid them down her arms. She helped me take it off, letting go of my penis momentarily.

Lia's breasts seemed inflated. They were turgid and massive. The pink of her nipples was smutty. It glowed against the china-white of her skin. The bottom of a pop can could not entirely cover the circumference of her areolae. If her breasts were snowy hills, then her nipples were like miniature, gently sloping pink mountains, each with a single-spiked peak.

As I took in Lia's bosom, her eyes never broke away from my penis.

I fondled Lia's breasts and gently pinched her nipples. Lia breathed softly.

My erection was complete.

She glanced up at me and asked, "Why didn't you and Mom let me in the other morning?"

"Nervous," I mumbled.

"You were nervous? Why?"

"Being in front of you."

Then, she asked, "What were you and Mom doing in there before she let me in?"

"Set up and get settled."

"I heard you two whispering."

"Helping me not be nervous," I uttered.

"How? What did she do?"

It was hard lying to Lia; she was always so honest. I told the truth. "Showed me her bottom."

"Mom showed you her bottom? Naked?"

I nodded.

"Did she let you touch her there?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, my gosh. What else?"

I shrugged.

Lia eyed me for a moment, and then returned her attention to my penis. She petted it with her fingertips all along the length of the shaft. She traced the shining bulb with her index finger, and then gently pinched it. I grunted, and she looked up at me.

Her hands fell away. She sat back on her heels, and her breasts fell out of my reach. Then, she looked up at me, clearing her throat. "You...you're ready now, I think. I'll go back to the chair."

I held her when she started to rise.

Several seconds passed. I waited for her; she for me. Finally, she asked, "Is there something else I'm supposed to do?"

I nodded.

Lia glanced at my erection, again, and then back to me. "Does Mom...what else does Mom do to help you?"

"Let me put my mouth on her bottom."

"What? You kissed Mom's bottom?"

I nodded. "And licked it."

"Mom let you...lick it?"

"Yeah."

"Inside? On her...her anus, too?"

I nodded.

"Did you like it?"

I shrugged and nodded.

"Why?" Lia asked, and her voice expressed genuine curiosity.

"Girls hide stuff. Only makes guys want it more."

She took the answer in silence, and then she asked, "Did she like it?"

"Think so."

Lia's eyes searched my face, and then she swallowed. Her voice was airy when she asked, "Do you want to...to lick my butt, too?"

"Yeah."

Lia's eyes briefly widened, and then she nodded and stood up.

I rose from the bed and gestured for her to lay down. She pulled down her pants. When she climbed on the bed, she moved the opened sample jar and the lubricant up beside the pillow.

"Lay down," I said.

She did. Lia was completely nude, on my bed, flat on her stomach. Her butt was fat and round. It's rise from her lower back made it seem like Lia was arching it up, presenting it to me, but she wasn't. Her body lay flat; it was just her curves. They were expansive. The skin was the same as the rest of her form, smooth and creamy white. She might have been a porcelain doll.

I climbed into the bed over her legs, nudging them apart with my head, but Lia kept her thighs together.

I put my lips on the flesh of her bottom and sucked on it tenderly. Then, I moved all around it, putting kisses everywhere I went, and letting my nose drag over the satiny skin. I let my tongue down and licked a few times. I stiffened the end and traced the entire circumference. At the bottom, where her thighs met, I drew the tip of my tongue along the dark cleft up to her back.

My hands trembled to touch Lia's bottom, and I sat up. I softly slid the pads of my fingers and thumbs up and over the two mounds, around to the sides on her hips, and then back to the middle, where I gripped each cheek and started to firmly massage her bottom.

The flesh had heft and firmness that surpassed Mom's—equally soft, but not as yielding. When I squeezed the fat globes into my fingers, Lia's little hole bared itself.

I bent down and nudged her with my head again, pushing each thigh apart. I wanted to see her vagina, but her legs did not budge. So, I pulled her bottom apart, exposing her pink little hole to the light. I examined it, letting my anticipation surge. My erection flexed.

I kissed her anus. I licked it. Then, suddenly, I was slavering upon Lia's butthole like a dog going after the remnants inside of a can—snout buried deep, rooting, exploring, licking.

Lia moaned, and I pushed deeper inside her bottom, letting go with my hands. My face was squashed between her plump cheeks. My tongue delved. All the while, my hands slid up Lia's smooth thighs until I felt my thumbs under my chin.

I wrenched her legs apart, and this time, her resistance almost immediately caved. I spread her wide, and then I smelled it—Lia's femininity. I wanted it. The aroma was enticing and rich. I inched my head down, stretching lower with my tongue. Lower still, and my tongue felt thin wisps of hair. Even lower. My nose was against Lia's anus, and the tip of my tongue found it—found the crease—and I tasted her vagina.

I groaned and repositioned my face opposite it, and then I let my tongue and lips freely explore. I wanted to taste everything, feel everywhere. I sucked with my lips and stroked with my tongue. I grunted inside her while I burrowed my face between her legs.

How Lia felt, I had no idea. I really wasn't paying any attention. I liked how her vagina tasted, smelled, and felt, and I wanted more of it.

But, at that moment, Lia's foot must have risen, and it brushed across my penis. I drew back and rose on my knees, looking down and seeing my throbbing erection over Lia's fat butt and open legs. I reached down to her hips and pulled her up to her elbows and knees, bringing her vagina up and into alignment with my penis.

Then, Lia squeezed her legs closed. I didn't stop her. She turned around and laid on her back. Her face was pink and her breasts rose and fell. She huffed, "We should get your sample now."

I stared down at her and let my urges starve and diminish. I nodded, reaching for the lubrication. Scooting over her body, I straddled her tummy and handed her the open tub of vaseline. She took it and waited.

"Put some on me?" I asked. Then, I grabbed the sample container and held it, waiting for her. "I'll hold this."

"No, I should hold the cup. You should masturbate."

"You're better than me at it. Please, Lia." I leaned forward, grabbing the rail on my headboard. My erection hovered several inches over her face, and I waited.

"Does Mom do this for you?"

I nodded.

"But, I'm your sister. It doesn't disgust you?"

I shook my head. "Please, Lia."

Then, I felt her fingers painting my penis with petroleum jelly. Soon, the shaft was completely covered. I pushed off the headboard and watched Lia take hold with both hands, squeeze firmly, and stroke it.

I groaned.

"Am I doing okay?" She asked.

I nodded. Her two hands made the feeling more complete on my penis. My body relaxed into Lia's massage.

One of her nipples brushed against my testicles, and I grunted.

"What?" She asked, stopping.

I looked at her breasts, and then I reached down and squeezed them. I said, "Push them together."

"My boobs? They'll get all greasy."

"Lia," I urged.

She hesitated, but she finally did it.

I grabbed the headboard and lifted my body over hers, and then I lowered my penis onto Lia's stomach. I drew my hips forward and felt the tip nudge up against the cleavage below.

"What are you doing?"

"Hold them."

"What are you going to...".

I gently thrust, and my lubricated erection slid between Lia's hefty breasts. I grumbled in satisfaction, drew back, and did it again. Soon, her cleavage was perfectly warm and slick with vaseline.

"Push them tighter," I said, with my penis in between.

"It feels good?"

I nodded.

She squashed my erection with her bosom and then asked, "What about the sample?"
I groaned and continued to have sex with Lia's breasts.

"Hey, what about the sample?" Lia repeated.

My thrusts pushed her bosom higher—toward her chin, and I didn't want to jab her there with my erection. I stopped.

Lia released and said, "Hey! What about the..."

Before she could finish, I took the sample jar and held it over her face. "Open your mouth," I said.

She didn't react.

"Hold it in your mouth and masturbate me into it when I'm ready."

"But..."

"You're already greasy. I'm not."

She stared at me for several seconds. "Will you lick my bottom again sometime?"

I shrugged and nodded.

"And my vagina?"

"Yeah."

"Okay," she said, and then she opened her mouth. I put the little container between her lips, and she gripped it. I looked at her, and she nodded.

"Tight together again," I said.

Lia squeaked. She wanted to say something.

I pulled the cup from her lips.

"Are you going to be long?" she asked.

"No. It feels really good."

She nodded. I replaced the container. She squeezed her breasts together, and I made love to her plump chest in long, smooth strokes.

We watched each other. She nodded at me, and I at her. Holding the container gaped her jaw, and Lia looked like a young woman frozen in a scream of surprise. The jar was clear, but not perfectly so. I could see the darkness of her throat, the hint of her teeth and tongue, but little else.

Warmth raced across my body, and my testicles tingled and tightened. I groaned and pushed my penis through her breasts.

"Okay," I grunted.

I drew my erection out from her cleavage, and I lined it up with the cup in Lia's yawning mouth. She released her breasts and gripped the shaft, carefully pointing the tip into the jar.

Then, her lubricated hands massaged and slid along the shaft, back and forth. I gasped, feeling myself cross a threshold of exhilaration. There was no going back. I let go, grunting.

I watched Lia direct the splashes and gushes of semen emanating from the head of my penis into the cup. I said her name and moaned as I filled the container. She moaned when she heard it. I said her name again, seeing her milk the shaft for the final few drops.

When she let go, I took the cup from her lips, climbed off her, and went to screw the lid on. After, I turned around. Lia was still laying on my bed. She massaged her own breasts, and they shined with lubricant—even her nipples.

I sat beside her and watched.

"Was that one of the ways Mom helps you? Letting you making love with her breasts?" she asked.

"No."

"Then, what?"

"She sucks on my penis."

She stopped fondling her nipples. "Mom has given you a...a blowjob?" She whispered the last word, and my eyes went wide when I heard her say it. Her face turned pink, and she smiled shyly.

I shrugged. "A few times. Just to help me."

"That's amazing."

"You ever do it before?"

Lia shook her head. "Emma has," she said, adding, "I don't think she's a virgin anymore."

I took this in silence.

"Were you going to—after you licked me down there—were you going to put your penis in it? Make love to me?"

I nodded. "Wanted to."

"But, I'm your sister. Isn't that gross?"

"You're not gross, Lia," I explained.

She blinked, surprised, apparently. Her eyes shined for a moment, and I saw her smile begin to unfurl before she turned her face completely away from me.

"Gotta put this in the freezer," I said, indicating the sample. I stood and walked toward the door. I stopped. "Lia, when can I lick you again?"

She turned to me. "I don't know," she said with a timid grin.

***

That night, I went to a movie with some friends. When I got home, Emma lay on the couch, curled up in my blanket, crying. I sat beside her and rubbed her back for a long time. When she stopped crying, I went up to bed.

***

The next day, when Mom came home at 10:00am, she sent Emma and Lia out with a list of groceries to pick up. Lia glanced at me. I didn't react. Emma protested, but Mom can be insistent, and she was.

The girls left, and Mom led me upstairs with a plastic grocery bag in one hand and an empty sample container in the other.

When she closed and locked the door to my room, she asked if the lubrication was here.

I nodded.

"Good," she said. She gestured for me to sit on the bed. I did, and she sat beside me.

"Before we begin, I want to talk to you about Lia and how she helped you yesterday."

I nodded.

"Tell me what happened."

"She held the cup for me."

"And you masturbated yourself into the cup?"

"No," I admitted, "She used her hands."

"She masturbated you?"

I nodded.

"Did she use her mouth?"

"No."

"Are you sure? You didn't ask her to perform fellatio upon you?"

"No."

She sighed. "Alright. That confirms what Lia told me. I'm glad you didn't lie." She took my hand and asked, "Is there anything else you want to tell me about your time with Lia?"

I thought about it, and then spoke. "I put my penis between her breasts."

"I see. Her chest was exposed?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me what you did."

"I asked her to lay down on her back and squeeze them together."

"Then you mounted her and made love to her breasts?"

I nodded.

"I understand. Thank you for telling me. I won't say anything to Lia."

"Okay," I muttered.

"If I am unavailable to assist you in the future, however, I am going to tell both you and Lia this: learning is fine, but using each other's bodies for sexual gratification is something else entirely. Do you understand?"

I nodded, and Mom's face brightened.

She said, "This morning I thought we could sneak some learning into obtaining this next batch of semen. Will that be alright, baby?"

"Yeah."

"As long as were doing this together, we might as well be learning, isn't that right?"

I nodded.

"Then, you may undress. When you're finished, you may sit on your bed and watch me."

Mom sat in her chair, placed the bag at her feet, and watched me strip down. My penis was nearing an erection from the anticipation. When I unfurled it from my boxer shorts, Mom nodded, satisfied.

"Sit down, please," she said.

I did.

Mom undressed. She slipped out of her shirt, and then unhooked her bra and dropped it on the floor. Mom's chest was heavy and soft. Her nipples were a more pale shade of pink than Lia's, but just as wide. They hung down, but at the bottom, Mom's breasts fattened and bulged out balloon-like. I tried to glance away.

"You don't need to be shy. You may look at my breasts."

I looked. Hard.

"Do you like them, baby?"

I nodded. "Did you breastfeed me, Mom?"

"Yes, baby." She smiled, turned sideways, and pulled down her pants and panties. Then, turning, she presented her front to me.

"Look at me, baby."

I did. Her pubic hairs were lush and fiery red, forming a thick, but small triangle at the nexus where her legs joined her body. She spread her legs a few inches and put her hand over her pubic hairs.

"This is where you came from, where I gave birth to you all those years ago. It is my special place. You mustn't touch me here, is that understood?"

I nodded.

"And, I'd rather you not spend an inordinate amount of time looking at my vagina, is that clear as well?"

"Yeah."

"Good, baby. Today, I would like you to learn about my bottom. I will allow you to touch me there. You may also use your mouth."

I nodded.

"Now, I am going to let you look in a moment. That part of my body is very close to my special place. Please remember what we talked about, okay?"

I took a deep breath and nodded.

Mom walked over to me and turned around. "You may spread my bottom apart to see." She leaned forward, arching her back and pushing her butt toward me.

I grasped it and pried it apart, casting a fleeting glance at her vagina and inhaling, briefly, to catch her scent. Nothing, but the smell of coconut and vanilla soap, filled my nostrils.

"I have thoroughly washed and rinsed. So, if you would like to kiss or lick anywhere, including my anus, then you may."

I pulled her butt into my face, and she voiced her surprise. I wasn't forceful—I knew she would correct me if I were, but I was gently energized in my actions. I went straight for her little pink hole.

"Oh, goodness! You certainly like my bottom," she uttered. "You'll find that some women do not enjoy...," she quit speaking and softly hummed, and then continued, "...do not enjoy this. It does not provide direct stimulation to the female genitalia. But, some few may derive...excuse me," Mom stopped again, drawing two deep breaths. "Some few may derive great pleasure from this because it is sexually gratifying to have a man...oh...oh, baby, that feels nice...to have a man show his love for her body, even those places some might consider...," Mom hummed again, and then finished, "...some might consider dirty."

I drew back, took a breath, and resumed. Mom gasped and aired her pleasure in little cooing sounds. A minute later, I drew back.

"I'd like to see how erect your penis is now," Mom said, turning around and squatting in front of me. She caressed it with the back of her index and middle fingers, up and down a few times, and then she wrapped her fingers around the shaft and squeezed. "You're very, very hard. Would you like me to obtain your next sample now or do you want to continue the lesson?"

"Lesson."

"Alright," she said, standing. She held out her hands to me, and I took them. I rose, and Mom slid past me, laying on the bed, belly-down. "Fetch my bag and the lubricant, please."

I grabbed them both and came back.

Her face was sideways on the pillow, and her eyes were closed as she spoke. "I'm going to spread my legs so that you can sit between them. Remember, you mustn't stare at my vagina or touch it, and I would be very upset it you attempted to penetrate me with your penis while I'm in this position, vaginally or anally, do you understand?"

"Yeah."

She opened her eyes and craned her head toward me. "You won't try to mount your mother anally, will you?"

I shook my head.

"Good." She closed her eyes and relaxed into the pillow. "Now, keeping one hand very clean, please use your other to lubricate my anus. You may spread it liberally, but please do not leave globs. Spread it evenly, and you only need to cover the anus, itself."

Here, Mom reached back with her hands, and spread her bottom wide for me.

I took the vaseline, opened it, and gathered a dollop on my index finger. I wiped it on her hole, and very gently spread it around, feeling the texture of her anus as I did. It was like buttering bread with a finger.

"That feels about right, baby. Let me see." The fingers of one hand crawled over her cheek and touched her anus and the space around it. "Very well done. Thank you." Her hand resumed it's previous position, joining the other one in keeping the cheeks of her fat bottom apart. "The lubrication is for safety. You must never, ever engage in anal play or lovemaking without lubrication, do you understand?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, and then I asked, "Mom, have you ever had a penis in your bottom?"

Her head came up off the pillow and her eyes opened. "Remember what you promised, baby, but, yes. Yes, I have."

"You like it?"

She sighed and sank back into the pillow. "Many women do not. But, yes, for a time in my life, it was the only way for me to experience an orgasm. So, I did like having a penis in my bottom. Many women are not that way, baby."

"Okay."

"Any other questions?"

"No."

"Alright. Inside the bag, there are some items. They are all very clean. Please take out the thin blue one."

I looked in the bag and pulled out the thing she described. It was about six inches long and made out of clear blue plastic. One end had a fat bulb, about the size and shape of a small egg. The remainder of it was about the width and length of a pencil, and every inch there were round, flared balls, about the size of marbles. The entire thing was reasonably pliant. It bent, but it would have broken before I bent it in half.

"Got it," I said.

"Please spread some lubricant on the smaller, longer end—not the fat end."

I did as she asked. "Done."

"Good. Now, holding onto the egg-shaped end, you may—very, very gently—insert the thin end into my bottom. Please go slowly."

I put the marble-sized sphere against Mom's anus. I rubbed it in little circles around the tiny hole, and then I applied soft pressure. It slipped inside.

Mom hummed softly. "That's good, baby. You did well. Now, you may gradually push the remainder of it inside me, but stop when the egg end touches my bottom. Go slowly, and keep hold of the end, please."

I carefully drove the object into her. Each flared, marble-sized bump expanded her just slightly, and then her anus closed tightly around the narrower tube connecting them all together. The process took about half a minute, but I eventually had the entire thin end and all five "marbles" inside Mom's bottom.

"You're been very gentle, baby, and I appreciate it. It's been a long time since I've put things in my bottom like this, and you're making the experience quite lovely. Thank you."

I grunted a response.

"I'd like you to pull it out, just as slowly, but you may twist it as you do so—back and forth. Just roll your wrists a little."

I began to perform what she described. Mom breathed softly throughout. When the end came free of her, she asked me to do it again, and I did, watching her anus absorb each marble, and then release them all. The final little sphere emerged and Mom sighed.

"Turn it around," she suggested, "and push the fat end in my bottom. Please lubricate it first."

I swung the little object, end for end, and dabbed the egg-shaped end with some vaseline. There was a small towel in Mom's bag, and I took it out and wiped some of the grease from the narrow end.

The fat end was a little over an inch wide at maximum girth, about the girth of a ping-pong ball.

When Mom felt the bulb nudge against her, she muttered, "Slowly, baby."

I pushed, and Mom's bottom began to ease open. Then, her muscle seemed to pinch closed and contract up and inside her. The egg remained.

"Try again, baby."

I pushed, adding a little more pressure, and this time, she opened enough.

Mom whimpered.

I pushed further, and her bottom stretched over the widest point and, with surprising speed, swallowed the remainder of the egg.

Mom gasped, and her chest rose and fell.

"Hurt?" I asked.

"A little, baby."

"Sorry."

"No, you did well. Just let me feel it inside me for a minute. You can twist it if you like."

I did.

A bit later, Mom said, "I want you to see something. Now, gently try to tug it back out."

I pulled, and Mom's anus clenched, fighting against me. Her bottom pulled the little end right out from my fingers, and I watched as her anus, without any pressure from me, swallowed an additional inch of so of the narrow end, including one of the marble-sized bumps.

She laughed. "See?"

"Yeah."

"It's not a weak muscle. It can be relaxed, allowing both penetration and removal, but it can also flex so as to grip and draw things inside it," she explained. "Sometimes, I used to let...never mind, baby."

"Tell me, Mom."

She seemed too excited and nostalgic to resist. "I used to let...my man...push only the tip of his penis inside my bottom, and then I would use my muscle to draw him the rest of the way in. And, when his entire penis was inside, all the way, I would flex on it—kind of masturbate him with just the muscle—until he ejaculated."

I couldn't respond. The room was utterly silent for several seconds.

"Baby?"

Nothing.

Mom craned around to look at me. I stared at her bottom while my erection throbbed.

"Oh, baby, I didn't mean to tease you that way. I'm sorry I told you the story. I shouldn't have said anything." She reached back and stroked my thigh. "I know you want to mount me, but don't you see how you shouldn't? We're here get your samples and help you learn. I'm your mother, and I mustn't let you make love to my bottom. Besides, the story I told you was from many years ago, and...my partner...his penis was...was different than yours." Her hand delicately caressed my shaft and testicles. She finished, saying, "It would be very painful to fit your erection into my anus, do you understand?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"You forgive me for teasing you?"

"Okay."

"You're such a sweet boy. Thank you." Mom let go of my penis and turned back. "Would you like to stop, or would you rather keep learning?"

"Learning."

"That's fine," she said. "Now, I'm going to pass the toy to you. Please don't tug on it or touch it. Let me give it to you with my bottom."

I watched her little muscle pinch, pinch again, and then push. The toy began to emerge from her. I held my hand underneath, waiting. Soon, everything but the bulbous end was out.

Mom's head sank into the pillow. She took a few deep breaths, and grunted.

The blue egg emerged and dropped into my hand.

Mom sighed. "You can put that one back in the bag now and pull out the box."

Box? I peered over and saw that there was, in fact, a box in the bag. It must have been covered by the little hand towel. I dropped the blue thing in the bag and withdrew the box.

It was a sleeve of new golf balls.

"Take them out."

I opened the lid and dumped them between her legs on the bed.

She said, "I think I'm ready for these now. Baby, please put some vaseline on one of them."

I dipped my finger in the little tub and rubbed it on the face of the first ball.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Be gentle when you put it inside my bottom. I may sound like I'm in pain, but that's okay. Go ahead." Mom put her hands on her butt and spread herself wide.

I stopped. "Mom, I can't hold onto this. It'll slip in."

"It's okay, baby. Push it in my bottom."

I held the ball with the tips of my fingers on one side, and I lowered the ball toward her anus. Once there, I pressed the lubricated side against her. Her body resisted. I pushed harder, and Mom's little hole began to yield up, widen, and allow the little ball entrance.

"Oh!" she gasped.

It was not long before the ball was nearing it's equator.

Mom was panting. "Yes, baby," she moaned, "All the way."

I gave a final push. Mom cried out, and her bottom swallowed the little white sphere with surprising quickness.

"I've got it," she huffed. "It's in my bottom. Give me a moment."

I watched her chest rise and fall a few times.

Her head rose from the pillow, and she said, "Now, put your finger inside my bottom. See if you can feel it—the ball."

My index finger—the one I'd been using to lubricate—was ready. I pointed it at Mom's anus, pressed, and it nudged inside.

Nothing there.

I pushed in to the second knuckle, still feeling nothing. I pushed in all the way. No golf ball. Then, I felt a force, a surging inside her, and a moment later, the dimpled face of the ball pressed firmly against my fingertip.

I grunted in surprise.

Mom said, "See? I've got it."

The muscle went to work again, and the ball slipped deeper inside her. I pulled my finger out of her bottom.

"You may put the other two inside me, same as before."

I did. Mom hollered when each crossed into her, and she spent a minute recovering once all three were in place.

Shortly, she said, "Now, I will pass them back to you, baby."

I watched in silence. My hand lay on the bed, palm up, ready.

Mom pushed, grunting, and the first ball began to emerge. It stopped with about a quarter of the face exposed before vanishing back inside her.

She sucked in a breath and moaned, trying again, and this time, the progress didn't stop. At the midline, Mom moaned, and the ball dropped into my hand.

She seemed to gather herself for another effort, and began. The second ball came out, and she cried, "Oh!"
When the last ball emerged, Mom sighed and collapsed into the pillow, panting. It was over, and Mom's bottom, as it recovered, took on it's original appearance. There was no massive gape. Her anus cinched closed, tight, yet still shiny with lubrication.

I pushed my index finger against it. She let it penetrate her.

Once fully embedded, I began to drive it, back and forth, in her bottom. I was careful and plodding, just trying to feel it on my finger.

"That's nice," she cooed. "I like how gentle you are, baby."

When my finger was completely inside her, the knuckles of my ring and pinky finger bumped up against Mom's vagina. There were fluids.

"Do you want to put the balls inside me again?" she asked.

I muttered, "Just want to do this."

Mom let go of her bottom, and I felt her cheeks clasp my hand as it drove my finger in and out.

"Baby, can you flip your body to me? Swing your legs around? You don't have to stop. I just think it's time we got your sample."

Leaving my finger inside her, I slid my legs over hers and laid down next to her on my side. I scooted my body up the bed until my penis was at the level of her head.

Mom rolled onto her side, and we were opposites, facing each other's groins.

"I'll use my mouth to obtain the sample, baby, and you can continue to put your finger in my bottom."

"Can I put two in, Mom?"

She looked at me. "Yes, but no more."

"Mom?"

"What is it, baby?"

"Can I kiss your legs?"

She paused, and then nodded. "Yes, but remember not to touch my vagina."

"I won't," I said, even though every time I sunk my finger inside her, I was bumping against it with the rest of my fist.

Mom lifted her upper leg, bent her knee, and set her foot down next to the knee of her lower leg. I grabbed her butt and pulled my face to her thigh, right where it joined her tummy, near her hip. I sucked on her there.

Moments later, I felt Mom's fingers on my penis. She pivoted the shaft, and then I felt her tongue. She licked it, moved it around, and licked it again. Her tongue dabbed all over it. Then, she cupped my testicles, drew them to her mouth, and licked them.

I switched fingers, now penetrating Mom's bottom with my middle finger, and mashing my palm against her vagina. I licked her along the line of flesh where her pubic hairs met her leg. I smelled Mom's body. The fresh scent of soap was still there, but so was a deeper, richer, and very feminine aroma. The smell made my heart pound against my ribs.

I gripped her butt more forcefully, drew my middle finger out of her anus, and joined my index finger to it. I eased the two inside her, and when Mom stopped licking my balls and moaned, I dragged my tongue over her curly little patch of red hairs, careful not to touch any part of her vagina.

Mom gasped when my fingers could go no further. I held them in place, letting her adjust and still licking her pubic hairs. She gripped my penis firmly, and then I felt her mouth cover the head.

My erection had been flushed and twitching for many minutes prior. The soft, wet caress of her tongue on the tip was like a crackling fire in the frozen winter. I grunted.

Mom's bottom pinched my fingers, and I took it as a sign of her readiness. I gently made love to her little hole with my digits. The pad at the base of my thumb mashed against Mom's vagina when I pushed inside her. It became slick with her fluids, and she moaned into my penis.

Heat spiked within me, starting where Mom's mouth encased my erection, flowing out from there to my guts and spreading to the very ends of me. I groaned at the tingling sensation, feeling my body surge and flex in preparation for a massive release.

I stiffened my fingers, sliding through her tight hole more hastily.

Mom gasped, opening her mouth around my erection for a moment. Then, she closed her lips around the tip and howled on it.

I rose from her pubic hairs and grunted, feeling my erection begin to pulse inside her. My entire body squeezed. My fingers twisted inside her bottom, pushing and pushing to the very roots of my fingers. Not caring anymore, I groaned and clamped down with my lips on Mom's vagina, my head fully between her legs. I munched and sucked her sex while my penis loosed into her.

She hollered into my penis, but she let my sperm flow over her tongue and fill her mouth. Her hand gripped my shaft low and squeezed up towards the tip. I felt powerful suction, and then I collapsed into exhaustion.

My fingers slipped out of her bottom, my head fell to the mattress, and I rolled onto my back, gasping.

I sensed Mom climb to her hands and knees. Glancing down, I saw her disgorge my semen into the sample container. Then, I closed my eyes and took long, deep breaths.

Mom dressed herself, and then sat beside me on the bed, grasping the container and screwing the lid on top.

She said, "Look at me, baby."

I did.

"I'm very, very disappointed in you."

I stared at her.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. You put your mouth on my vagina. It makes me sad that you decided to ignore my wishes."

"Sorry, Mom, it just happened."

"I know, baby. You were ejaculating in my mouth, and you got carried away."

I nodded. "I could smell it, and I couldn't stop myself."

She looked at me with curiosity, asking, "The smell excited you?"

I nodded. "And the taste."

"That's sweet of you to say, baby."

"I want to lick it more."

"You mustn't say that."

"It's true."

"Baby, a mother's vagina is a very private, very special part of her body. A boy should not crave it's taste, and I wouldn't be much of a mother if I allowed you to lick me there for pleasure."

"Even for learning?"

"I appreciate that you like the smell and taste of my special place, and I like that you are interested in learning. I have a great deal to think about from today, and so do you. Let's revisit this idea sometime later."

I nodded.

"Before I go, we should talk about my bottom. Did you feel like you learned about it?"

"Yes."

"Did you enjoy licking and putting things inside it? Seeing how it works?"

I nodded. "Did I do okay?"

"Yes, baby."

"You liked it?"

"Yes. It can be painful, but in a good way, do you understand?"

I nodded.

"Then have I satisfied your curiosity or are you still interested in mounting me that way?"

"I still want to."

She sighed. "Your penis is thicker than these golf balls. It would have been very painful for Mommy. Do you understand?"

I nodded.

"Good. I need to put this in the freezer and clean my bottom before I go back to work. You should take a shower and wash the lubrication from your hands, and you should clean my saliva from your penis, as well."

She kissed my forehead and left, carrying the jar and the bag.

***

After Mom left and my sisters got back from the grocery store, Emma approached me.

"What are you and Mom doing up there?"

"Huh? Getting my sample."

"How exactly is she helping you?"

"Make sure I do it right. Get it all."

Emma sighed. "Whatever. I'm going out with Kevin." She turned and left.

Lia was out, and I had the house to myself for a while. I lifted weights at the gym, showered, ate, and slept on the couch in my blanket.

My phone rang in the afternoon. It as Mom.

"Yeah?"

"Baby, the Provost has called a morning meeting for tomorrow, and I will not be able to make it home. Do you want me to ask Lia if she will help you?"

"I'll talk to her."

"Alright. I'm sorry, baby."

I grunted and hung up.

***

That evening, before I went out to the mall with some friends to knock out my own gift shopping, Mom talked to me about the next sample.

I hadn't even mentioned it to Lia, yet.

"You're job—and Lia's—is to obtain the sample. I'm going to ask you to refrain from exploring each other's bodies, is that understood?"

I nodded.

"If I hear that anything else happens in there, then I will put a stop to it all. You'll masturbate yourself into the cup, and that's it."

"Okay."

"Very well. Get a good sample, baby."

She left.

I sent Lia a text, asking if she would help me in the morning.

She texted me back: ok.

***

Emma was out—probably with her boyfriend—when I got up. I took a shower and ate my fructose-free breakfast.

Lia came down in her pajamas with a shy smile. It was after 9:00am. She ate a bagel with cream cheese and had some juice. I wished I could eat such things.

"I'm going to take a shower, and then I'll come to your room," she volunteered.

"Okay."

"Did Mom talk to you?" she asked.

I nodded.

"Me, too," she said, "Do you still want to lick me?"

"Yeah."

"Me, too."

We finished, and I watched tv in the family room while Lia showered. When the water quit running, I went upstairs. The sound of the blow drier downed out everything.

I sat in my room, waiting. I was ready.

After a few minutes, the blow drier shut off, and I hear Lia call me. I walked over to the bathroom.

She spoke to me through the door. "Do you have the sample cup?"

"Yeah."

"The lubrication?"

"Yeah."

"What about a towel?"

"I'll get one."

"Okay, I'll be right in."

I went back to my room and shut the door. I heard the bathroom door open, and then I heard Lia's door close.

Seconds later, my door opened. I jumped when Emma walked in.

"What the hell is going on?" she asked.

"Emma, I thought you were out."

"I just went to get a coffee. What is going on here? I heard you guys talking, and it sounded like—I don't know."

In moments, Lia was going to walk through my door. She might be wearing something sexy. She might be naked. Seeing Emma would ruin everything.

"You should go. Mom's making Lia watch me give the sample—for her school, to learn and help if I need it."

"What? She's going to watch you masturbate?"

"You should go. Now."

"No, I want to talk to her about this."

"Emma, go. Please. Now."

The door to Lia's room opened. She was coming.

I jammed my index finger against my lips, darted at Emma, and seized her by the shoulders. My eyes must have been on fire. Emma looked astonished by my behavior. I pushed her into my closet and hissed, "Don't make a single noise!" Then, I rolled the door shut.

Lia came into my room a moment later. She was in a bra and panties. She smiled nervously. "Ready?"

I nodded.

"Where's the sample cup?"

I pointed the bed.

She saw it, and then turned to me.

I took off my shirt, but I left my boxers on. I signaled for her to turn around, and she did. I unhooked her bra and led her to the bed.

She was standing next to it when I reached under her arms and cupped her breasts from behind, the front of my boxers rubbed against the back of her panties. I squeezed Lia's chest and pushed my groin against her butt, feeling myself grow stiff against her.

"That feels good," she uttered, and I nestled into her hair until I reached her neck and kissed it, sucking gently on the soft skin.

When I broke away, Lia grasped my hands and held me on her breasts. She said, "I really liked it when you licked inside my bottom. Will you do that again?"

I didn't respond. I let go of her breasts and bent her forward, so that her palms were on the bed. Then, I knelt behind her, and slid my fingers between the straps of her panties and her hips. I paused and glanced to my left.

Emma had opened the closet door a few inches.

I pulled down Lia's panties. Then, in full view of Emma, I spread Lia's bottom and began to gently lick the dark valley.

Lia moaned.

I caressed her hips, thighs, and calves, running my hands softly up and down the smooth skin. My face was between her cheeks, buried in the flesh. There could be no doubt in Emma's mind—even if she hadn't heard Lia ask for it—that I was kissing and licking her sister's anus.

And there was no doubt that Lia was enjoying it.

She huffed, "Do you like it? My bottom?"

"Yeah," I said, between licks.

"You're tongue is so soft and hot."

To breathe more easily, I returned one of my hands to her butt and squeezed her open with it. My other hand had been caressing on the outside of Lia's leg. Now, I crossed it over and began kneading up the inside of her other leg, working my way toward her groin. When I reached her inner thigh, Lia caught her breath.

I waited.

She must have sensed my intention. "Please touch it."

I slid my hand into her crotch, and it was bathed in heat there. I dragged my thumb through her hairs, finding the slit, and dipping the tip of my digit inside. I felt her wetness.

I drew my hand down, pointed my index finger, and slid back up. I wiggled it between the labia, nudging it back and forth until I found the gap. Then, I pushed my finger inside until the rest of my fist mashed against her crotch.

"Oh!" she gasped.

I continued licking her bottom while I drove my finger in and out of her.

"Just like that. Keep doing that."

Her pleasure energized me, and I shoved harder with my finger, and I sank my face deeper between her cheeks, licking furiously.

"Yes!" she hollered.

Her torso sank toward the bed. I lifted her the rest of the way on with my free hand, still pounding into her vagina with my other. She was on her knees and elbows. I clutched her, wiggling my tongue into her anus and burying my finger in rapid piston-like movements.

Lia yelled and moaned She began twisting away, but I held on until she relented. Her body tipped over on it's side, and Lia panted and moaned. I drew back and watched her breathe.

She huffed, "Oh, my gosh, that felt good. Oh, my gosh."

"Did you have an orgasm?"

"I was close."

I pulled my finger out of her vagina and smelled it. I sucked the fluid, and it was decided.

I rolled Lia onto her back. I hauled her groin towards the edge of the bed, and then I spread her legs apart. Her vagina lay there, inches from my face. I needed the taste. I dove toward it.

Lia moaned when my tongue made contact. Her little hairs tickled my face. I reached up with my hands and drew the chubby lips apart, and then my tongue had complete access.

Lia hollered. I tasted everywhere, gathering up her fluids and sucking them from her, licking the wetness off every little valley and nook of her vagina. The flavor excited me, and I continued exploring with my tongue and lips.

Within a minute, I began to focus on her spot—her little nub of flesh—and Lia told me, "Yes! Lick me there! Oh!" My tongue danced on her clitoris.

When her orgasm hit, it almost scared me. Lia sounded like she was being murdered. She issued a dozen long and very feminine grunts, squeezing my head between her legs. Her muscles clenched me so tightly that I couldn't use my tongue. I had no choice but to just pinch her clitoris between my lips and suck on it. Lia shrieked when I did so, and a half-minute later, her legs released me.

I fell back, sitting on my heels. Then, I glanced at the closet. It was still open. Emma's view, I realized, had been perfect—if, in fact, she'd wanted to look. She'd have seen just about everything.

I looked back at Lia's voluptuous, limp body, and I rolled her over on her stomach. Her bottom hung off the edge of the bed; her knees rested on the floor. I stood, drew the elastic band of my boxers over my erection, and slipped them off.

I knelt behind her and scooted closer.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"Just want to look."

I grasped my erection and nudged it between her legs into the wispy mass of hair on her vagina.

"Are you going to make love to me?"

"Just want to see, Lia."

I wiggled the tip until it split her labia, and then I let go of the shaft, feeling her wetness on the very tip of my penis, feeling the soft warmth of her entrance, seeing my penis poised and ready to, for the first time in my life, experience sexual intercourse.

Lia looked back at me. She was afraid.

"I'm not gonna," I mumbled.

I drew back, and then, seeing the plump curve of her bottom, I repositioned myself a little higher. I grasped her cheeks and spread them. I pressed the tip between until it wedged against her pink anus.

"Oh, no. Please, no," she whimpered. "Don't put it in my bottom."

"Lia, will you relax? I just want to see what it looks like."

I liked the view. I liked seeing my erection pressed up against and pointing at her butthole.

"Lia, I just want to push a little. May I? I promise I won't let it go in."

She hesitated and then nodded. "Be gentle."

Very carefully, I drove the tip of my penis against her little hole. It was still wet with my saliva, and the moment it began to give way and spread for my penis, Lia grunted, and I drew back.

"Okay," I sighed. I sat back on my heels.

Lia sat up and turned around to face me. "Do you want to make love with my bottom?"

I nodded.

"And my vagina?"

"Yeah."

She glanced down at my penis. "We probably should get your sample before Emma comes home."

I didn't say anything to this.

"Do you want to masturbate into the cup?"

I shook my head.

"Do you want me to do it for you?"

"No."

"Between my breasts again?"

"I want it in your mouth, Lia."

She nodded. "I don't...I don't really know what to do. Should I just...right here?" She began to kneel, and I stopped her.

I slid past her and laid on the bed. My erection pointed up towards my chest, and I spread my legs and waved her over.

She climbed between and sat on her heels.

I grabbed the cup.

"Is this how Mom does it?"

"Pretty much. I hold the cup, and after the sperm comes out, I hand it to her and she spits it in there."

Lia nodded, grasping my erection and raising it toward her face. "I've seen videos of girls doing it—giving blow...fellatio, I mean, but I don't think I can. It seems a lot bigger in real life."

"You can just suck on the tip, and do the massage thing with your hand."

"Will that feel good?"

I nodded.

"Will you tell me when you're going to ejaculate?"

I nodded.

"I'm nervous."

I touched her face softly, nodding.

She opened her mouth and closed it around the head.

I groaned.

She held there for a few moments, and I felt her swallow before she drew off with a little smack. "Feel good?" she asked.

I nodded, guiding her head back to my erection with my hand. Lia stroked my penis while she nursed on the tip. She involved her tongue this time, and it caressed the underside of the head.

I gasped.

She continued, and her mouth was wetter, more sopping than Mom's. I saw two beads of saliva escape her lips, dribbling down the shaft and over her knuckles. She stopped, opened her mouth a little, and sucked, slurping the excess saliva off the tip.

I grunted, and Lia looked up at me. She let my erection out.

"Your penis makes my mouth water. I'm sorry I'm so sloppy."

I shook my head, and then I asked, "You like sucking it?"

She nodded, and then clasped it between her lips again, nursing on the tip. Then, I caught movement off to the side and behind her.

The closet door was open by about a body's width, and Emma was standing in the threshold on her tippy toes, watching us. She had one hand covering her mouth. Her face was pink and flushed. Her chest rhythmically heaved. Her other hand was down the front of her pants. Her eyes caught me watching her.

She closed her eyes in apparent ecstasy.

I turned back to Lia. "Don't stop," I huffed.

Lia's hand rose and fell along the shaft; her lips made out with my penis. I groaned as my body responded, filling me with hot power.

"Lia, now."

She moaned into my erection. My penis convulsed. I saw it throb in her hand, and I filled Lia's mouth with semen. She hummed—a high-pitched sound, full of surprise—but her lips gripped my penis, holding firmly. Her fingers drew up the dregs, starting low on the base and rolling up the shaft. Her lips sucked the sperm out of the tip.
Lia's mouth was full. She moaned, and I handed the open jar to her.

She took it and brought it to her lips. Opening her mouth, I watched my semen stream down her lower lip into the cup. She spat and then gasped a breath.

I glanced at the closet. The door was in the midst of sliding closed.

I grabbed the lid and handed it to Lia. She screwed it on, and then set it on the bed. She rolled onto her side, next to me. I held her close, feeling her nipple against my thigh.

She whispered, "I liked it."

I rubbed her back for a few minutes as we laid together in silence.

Finally, she sat up and took the sample container. "I'll put this in the freezer after I get dressed." She climbed off the bed, pulled on her bra and panties, and then, before leaving, she kissed me on the lips.

When the door closed, I got up and locked it.

Emma emerged from the closet. She stared at me like I was a stranger, and then she opened her mouth to speak. I heard Lia's door close down the hall.

I said, "No time to talk, Em. Lia's getting dressed. Get going."

Emma walked out of my room, and I saw her quietly make her way down the stairs.

***

That evening, I played video games at a friends house until late, and I rolled home after 1:00am. I wasn't tired, so I laid on the couch and watched a tv.

I heard the front door open quietly sometime near 2:00am, and Emma walked into the room. She strode in and sat across from me. She looked angry.

"Hey, Em," I muttered.

She glared at me for a time. It looked like she wanted to say something. I just waited for it, but she didn't speak. Suddenly, she grunted, as if in a maze of frustration, and smashed her fists on her knees twice before rising and storming out of the room and up the stairs.

I watched the tv for about ten minutes before I followed her up the stairs. Her room was next door to mine, and I silently opened the door.

I heard her crying.

I closed the door behind me, and sat beside her on the bed. She was on her tummy. Her head rested on a pillow, facing away from me, and her arms were both under the pillow. Her legs looked like she was climbing a ladder—one bent and one fully extended.

I laid beside her, careful not to get too close, and then I drew her sheets and blanket down to her waist. I scratched her back over her shirt.

"Want to talk?" I asked.

She didn't speak, but she did adjust herself, presenting more of her back to me, so I slid my hand under her shirt and scratched, skin on skin. My fingernails glided over every inch of her back. She wasn't wearing a bra.

Her silence surprised me. I expected her to confront me what she'd seen from my closet.

I continued scratching for about ten minutes, and then she drew in a breath and whispered, "I need you to do something for me."

"Huh?"

"Will you tell me if I smell funny...down there?"

"Okay."

Emma rolled onto her back, swinging the fat breasts underneath her tank top into view. The blanket still covered her panties. I watched her hand vanish into her crotch. She drew it back out, moving it toward my face, two fingers extended together. I grabbed her wrist.

"Tell me the truth, please."

I brought her wrist closer until her fingertips lay just under my nose, and I sniffed.

"Well?" she asked, and her eyes were wet and glassy in the darkness.

I nodded, and then I closed my mouth around her fingers and sucked the flavor from them, rolling my tongue between and around them. Emma gasped, and tugged her hand back almost reflexively, but I had a strong grip on it. She relented, watching me.

I sucked each finger individually, and then together one more time before I pulled them from my mouth and let her wrist free. "You're good," I whispered.

"You mean it?"

I nodded.

Then, I head a sound—a short burst, could have been a laugh, could have been a cry. She rolled away from me.

I tucked her back in. "'Night, Em."

"Thank you," she whispered.

***

I woke up to my phone ringing. It was Mom, and it was around 9:30am.

"Hey, Mom."

"Good morning, baby." Her voice was stern.

"What's up?"

"I called to make sure you were up and to let you know that you will be handling matters yourself this morning. I'm at work, and Lia is here with me. We will be having a conversation when I get home."

"Okay."

"Very well, I'll check-in with you later. Goodbye then."

"Bye," I said and then hung up.

I texted Lia: "What's going on?"

"Think Mom knows."

"Call you?" I typed.

"Yes. Now good."

I called her.

She answered, saying, "I think she knows because she's been real serious this morning. Told me I was coming to work with her today, and didn't even give me a choice."

"Huh."

"You know what she's like when she's mad."

"Yeah," I said, "What's she got you doing?"

"Grading mid-terms—the multiple choice part."

"Where?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Where in the building?"

"One of the classrooms. Why?"

"Which room?"

"Hang on...C-213, it says."

"I'm coming. I need you. Will you help?"

"Here?"

"Please, Lia."

There was a pause. It felt long. Then, she answered, "Okay, be careful."

I hung up. Emma was still asleep. I took her car keys and left a note.

The Nursing College was in an old brick building with four wings and four stories. Evidently the place used to be a hospital back in the 1980s. Mom's office was on the third floor of the C wing. Lia was in a classroom on the floor below.

I texted her when I parked: "Here."

"All clear," she wrote back.

I went up the stairwell and jogged down the hall. Lia leaned her head out the door and waved me in.

The walls were painted concrete block, and there were three windows facing the outside, all with blinds. The classroom had two doors; the one in front had a sidelight window beside it. There were about 30 old style desks arranged in rows and columns facing a podium with a big smartboard behind it on the wall. In the back of the room, there was a fat desk. Lia's water bottle and several stacks of papers sat upon it.

"Anybody here?" I asked.

"Some professors. Last day of mid-terms was yesterday," she said. "Did you bring a specimen jar?"

I pulled it out of my coat pocket.

She said, "How did you..."

The stairwell doorway closed.

Lia's hand shot up: wait!

Footsteps echoed in the hallways, moving towards us.

"Under the desk. Go!" she hissed.

I ran over and crawled into the space. Lia followed me and sat in the chair, scooting as close to me as possible. I heard Mom walk in the classroom.

"How far along are you, Lia?"

"Finished one section, just started the second."

"I need you to go back and redo all the ones you've finished."

"What?"

"Question 26. I just saw this. I didn't phrase it properly, so the answer could be A or C. Any who answered C, you need to give them credit and adjust their total points."

Lia sighed.

"I'm sorry, dear. My mistake," she said. There was a moment, and then Mom said, "Is that the time?"

"Yes."

"I'm going to call your brother and make sure he's gotten the next sample. Excuse me."

Lia kicked me. Mom was going to call me. My phone!

As quietly as I could, I reached into my pocket and pulled it out. Mom was already calling. Any instant now, the room would echo with my phone's chime.

I stared at the screen, jamming my thumb against the volume button on the side. Down. Down. Down. Vibrate. Silence all.

Done.

The face lit up: "Incoming Call: Mom."

I let it ring in silence and closed my eyes, breathing a soft sigh of relief.

A few seconds later, I heard Mom say, "I'm guessing you're busy now, baby. Call me when you've finished."

She had to have hung up because she spoke to Lia next. "Dear, we should discuss yesterday. I think I know what happened, but I want to hear it from you."

"What?"

"I looked at the sample from yesterday, and I could tell that it wasn't just your brother's semen in there. There was frozen saliva, and I think it was yours."

Lia didn't say anything.

"Did you perform fellatio on your brother? Let him ejaculate in your mouth?"

"Yes."

"I thought so," she uttered. "Why, dear?"

"Why did you do it, Mom?"

I froze, holding my breath.

"Lia! I...," she erupted, but she didn't finish. It was several seconds before Mom calmly said, "That's true. I've used my mouth twice to help your brother ejaculate."

Lia remained silent.

"Dear...this is difficult for me to..." Mom cleared her throat, and then she said, "You're certainly old enough to understand, so I'll be frank. It has been many years since I've been in a sexual relationship. Sometimes, I feel like an old woman whose best days are past. Your brother is a beautiful boy. When I discovered that my body excited him, I felt like a young woman again. I wanted to help him learn, and I felt sexy because he wanted to learn from me." She paused for a moment, and then I heard her sigh and say, "I should also admit to you that I enjoy giving a man pleasure with my mouth."

"Okay," Lia muttered.

"What about you, dear?"

"I wanted to know what it was like. I wanted to learn."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes. I liked how his erection felt in my mouth. I liked it when he ejaculated."

"It's a special feeling to bring a man pleasure that way, isn't it, dear?"

"Yes."

"Has he touched you?"

"Yes."

"Tell me, dear."

"I asked him how you had helped him, and he told me about the kissing and licking. So, I let him do it to me."

"On your bottom?"

"Yes."

"Our bottoms do excite him."

"I know."

"Has he asked or tried to mount you that way?"

"In my bottom? No."

"Have you allowed him access to your vagina?" Mom asked.

"Not with his penis."

"So, he's touched you there?"

"Yes."

"Given you cunnilingus?"

"Yes."

Mom sighed. "I don't know what to say to you, Lia. I certainly cannot blame you for doing many of the same things that I have done."

Lia didn't respond.

"Is Emma aware of what's been happening?"

"I don't think so," Lia answered.

"That's something I need to consider. I do not like the idea of secrets."

Lia didn't speak for a beat, and then she asked, "Mom, did you let him give you cunnilingus?"

"No, dear, but he tried."

"Mom, is it wrong that I want to learn and help?"

"No, I want to help him, too."

"Is it wrong if it's about learning for us? Teaching for you?"

"No," she said, "No, it isn't. But, it becomes wrong when those things are gone—when it is purely about sexual gratification or if it develops into romantic love, do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Do you forgive me?" Mom asked.

"Yes."

"And I forgive you, too."

"Thanks, Mom," she said, and a moment afterwards, she asked, "So is it okay for us to keep helping him? Keep learning and teaching?"

"For now, yes."

"Okay."

"I'm going to get back to work. Please don't forget to revise those completed exams for question 26."

"Okay."

Mom left, closing the door behind her. I listened to her footfalls on the floor. When the door to the stairwell closed, Lia pushed her chair back, and I emerged.

"That was close," she said.

"Go lock the door."

When she came back, I gestured for her to sit down. I put my hands on her thighs, rubbing them through her jeans.

"We need to get your sample," she added.

I unbuttoned her jeans and tugged on them. She continued sitting, so I lifted her to her feet.

"Do we even have time for this? Shouldn't I be helping you?" she asked.

I turned her around and pulled her pants down to her ankles, and then I spun the office chair sideways and put Lia's stomach over the seat.

Lia craned around to look back at me, waiting for an answer, but I was staring at her vagina and her bottom.

I leaned close and smelled them, and then I began to lick her, everywhere. Her crotch was sultry, and the taste of her vagina was tangy and salty. My penis throbbed against the seams of my jeans.

Lia made soft little sounds of pleasure. Soon, I tasted her fluids. At first, I lapped them up. Not long after, I began spreading her wetness all along her crotch with my tongue, from her pubic hairs to her anus.

I drew back and pushed my middle finger into her vagina a few times, and then, after drawing it out, I nuzzled in between her labia until my lips found her clitoris. I kissed and pinched it a few times, and then I drew small circles around it with the tip of my tongue.

Lia's moans sounded muffled, as if she were covering her mouth. I stopped.

"Lia, can I put a finger in your bottom?"

She didn't reply. I saw her head nod up and down.

I pushed my middle finger against her anus and wiggled it inside her to the first knuckle.

Lia grunted, and I drew back to see her. She was biting down on her forearm, moaning into her shirt sleeve. I watched my middle finger sink deeply into her bottom. I drew it back, and then began plunging it into her. She sang into her arm.

I dug into her crotch with my nose until I, again, revealed her clitoris, and then I made out with it. Not long after, I felt Lia gyrating her crotch against my face.

Her orgasm struck suddenly, and I weathered her fierce, wrenching contortions, hugging firmly around her legs with my one free arm. When the muffled screams ceased, I drew back and pulled my finger out from her anus. I opened my trousers, withdrew my penis, and pulled the rolling chair towards me until my erection rode up her bottom and my testicles pressed firmly into the little hairs covering Lia's wet vagina.

I humped her.

After several thrusts, Lia said, "We should get your sample."

"I want to see again."

I pointed my erection at her vagina, letting go when the tip was nestled inside her slit.

Lia moaned.

"Let me push it in just a little."

She nodded, wheezing softly.

I pushed with my hips, and the head of my penis inched into Lia's vagina. A shock wave of pleasure rushed from our connection and spread through my body. I felt lightheaded. I held there, despite the almost irresistible urge to sink my erection completely inside her.

"Oh!" Lia cried. "Oh, that's going to hurt!"

I pulled it out, and collapsed on top of her. "Too good, Lia. It's too perfect."

"Oh," Lia moaned. "Oh, my."

I pushed myself off of her and looked at her hefty butt. My erection pointed directly into it.

"Are you going to see again on my bottom?" she asked warily.

"I want to."

"Please don't hurt me."

The head of my erection pushed up against the dark line of her bottom, and I stopped.

I wouldn't be able to stop myself once the tip was in. If it were anything like her vagina, I wouldn't hold back. I couldn't stop myself twice.

I sat on my heels, and then I spun the seat of the chair around until she was facing me.

She looked at me and nodded.

I sat up. Lia opened her mouth, and I pushed my penis into it. I gasped, "Uh, that feels so good, Lia."

She took my hands and put them on either side of her head. Then, she drew off and said, "Make love to my mouth."

I held her head, and I began to gently thrust through her lips and over her tongue. Only the tip was inside at first.

I said, "More," and she hummed.

I pushed deeper, just past the tip. I felt her saliva coating it.

When I drew back, I said, "More, Lia." She hummed again, slurping.

I fed it back in, giving her the head and a few inches past it. She took it.

"Please, Lia. More." She whimpered and nodded. I felt a small line of drool slide down to my balls.

Every bit more she took lifted me higher, ushered me closer to the end. I drove through her lips, gradually adding depth. The tip nudged against the back of her throat.

She hummed in alarm, and I pulled back just slightly. Two more beads of saliva escaped through her lips and ran over my scrotum. I held in place, relishing the warmth and wetness. Then, I did as she asked; I made love to her mouth.

Soon, my grunts accompanied every thrust. Lia filled the room with the sound of sucking, slurping, and smacking. When I wasn't grunting, I was telling her how good it felt.

Then, my stomach clenched, and I bent towards her, crippled with pleasure and spilling my orgasm inside of her.

At the end, I milked the final drops into her, and then pulled out. Quickly, I spun around, reached for the cup and unscrewed the lid. She squeaked when I handed it to her, and she moaned as my semen gushed through her lips and filled the cup.

Finished, she suddenly groaned, "Oh, no."

"What?"

"What if Mom looks again?"

"Huh?"

Lia explained, "If she looks at this cup in the freezer and sees my saliva mixed in with your semen again..."

"Oh, no."

"Yes. What should we do?" she asked.

"Let me see it." She handed it to me, and I looked. I swirled it around. "I don't know."

She had climbed off the chair and pulled up her pants. She reached for the cup, and I gave it to her. She looked closely, and then dipped her tongue into it in a few places. She rotated the cup, tilted it, and then, pursing her lips, sucked some of the excess fluids into her mouth. I watched her swallow it, and then she looked at me and shrugged. "I think that's the best I can do," she said, wiping her bottom lip with her sleeve. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I like how wet your mouth is."

She smiled.

"What if we mixed it with a finger—hid it a little better," I offered.

She stuck her finger in the cup and stirred. When she drew it out, she wiped it off on the edge, and then sucked her fingertip clean.

"Lia, does my semen taste..."

"I like it."

I took the jar, screwed on the lid, and pulled up my pants. "I should get home, put this in the freezer."

"I know."

"See you, Lia."

"Bye."

I peeked out the door. All was clear. I went home.

Emma wasn't too upset that I'd taken her car because I filled it with gas on the way home. She kissed me and said, "Wish me luck."

I did, not really knowing what for. She took her purse and walked out the front door.

***

Mom called me into her room when she came home with Lia that afternoon.

"I understand what's been happening with you and Lia, and I want you to know that I'm concerned."

I glanced up at her.

"What you choose to do together must be about helping you provide these samples, first and foremost. Do you understand?"

"Yeah."

"Second, if there are opportunities to learn in the midst of providing your samples, then I may permit you to continue."

I nodded.

"But!" she declared, raising a finger. "But, this must never, ever be simply about giving each other sexual pleasure, is that understood?"

"Yes."

"And you will not—absolutely will not—engage in sexual intercourse. It would be wrong. Not just wrong, but you may very well be fertile, and we cannot risk you impregnating your sister."

"I know."

"Good," she said, and then she walked a small circle, biting on one of her nails. Suddenly, she stopped and, not even looking at me, said, "I suppose Lia can help you with the rest of your samples, if that's what you'd like. She is a younger woman and more suited to you." Not once looking at me, she waited for my response.

"I want you to help me."

She faced me. "Hmm? I didn't hear you, baby."

"I want your help, Mom. Please don't stop."

She quickly turned away from me. Her back rose and fell, and from behind, it looked like she'd crossed her hands over her heart. She cleared her throat and said, "That's...that would be fine. Tomorrow, I'll finish my grading and come home in the morning to help you. You may go, baby."

I waited a moment, wondering if something was the matter.

"I'll be down in a few minutes to make supper. Go ahead," she said.

I left.

Mom glowed at dinner, free with her laughter and eager to talk and tell stories about some of the silly answers on her exams.

Emma was sullen, but when I once caught her eye, she gave me a tentative smile.
***

In the morning, Emma and Lia went shopping, and I lifted weights. When I came out of the shower afterwards, it was nearing 10:00am.

Mom was waiting for me in my bedroom. She was wearing a bikini that I'd never seen before. It was navy blue with a shiny, satin finish. It had a thin, bra-style top with spaghetti straps, and her cleavage burst out of it.

"Swimsuits just make me feel good, baby. Do you like it?"

I nodded.

She glanced at the bed, and I saw that she'd brought her bag. The lube and the sample cup were beside it.

She said, "Come and feel the material." She turned around, and continued, "It's very soft."

I held the towel wrapped around my waist as I moved closer. The bikini bottoms cradled and shaped Mom's bottom into two perfect spheres. Her waist seemed more narrow, accentuating the voluptuous outward curve of her hips.

The front of my towel over my groin rose up and away from my body. The second I reached out to squeeze her bottom, my swelling erection pushed the tucked portion from my waist. The towel fell to the floor.

I felt like I couldn't breathe when I slid my hands over her butt. My heart hurt. I brushed her giant curls of red hair away from her back. Leaning forward, I kissed the back of her neck. My erection drove against the satin of her bottoms, pushing the sleek fabric between her cheeks. I gasped at the subtle grip of her two globes against the tip of my penis.

I kissed her more, finding new places on her neck and gently thrusting my erection into what little space the tight bikini bottoms allowed. I slid my hands between her arms and her waist, reaching up the front of her chest until my palms were filled with her breasts. I kneaded them while my erection strained to make headway into the gap of her plump butt.

Mom gasped as my hands squeezed.

I released one of her breasts. Sliding my hand down her tummy, it crossed over the top hem of her bikini. She grasped my hand with hers, arresting it before it curled between her thighs. She turned to face me.

"Ground rules, baby. You may not touch my vagina—with any part of your body. Do you understand?"

I nodded, reaching around her waist and sliding my hand over the satin fabric on her bottom. "Can I still touch your swimsuit?"

"Yes, of course you may."

"Anything else?"

"You may not mount me anally."

"Okay. What else?"

"That will be all."

Without hesitating, I swept her up in my arms.

She exclaimed, "Oh!"

I carried her to the bed. Turning sideways near the edge, I laid her on her back with her feet over the side. I knelt on the floor and, taking her ankles in each hand, I lifted her legs up above her and spread them wide.

Kneeling between, I gazed at her crotch and how her bikini bottoms narrowed as they approached her groin. The little strip of the navy fabric barely covered her vagina, and the outer edges of her labia, recently shaved, were visible. Great swaths of the creamy skin of her thighs were completely exposed to me.

"Remember my rules," she warned, seeing, no doubt, how her bikini-covered vagina was so suddenly displayed, almost unprotected, before me.

I kissed every inch of uncovered flesh.

"Oh, my. Oh, baby."

I drew back, brought her feet together, and gripped them with one hand. Pushing them back towards her chest, her butt rose off the bed. I leaned close, kissing and sucking on the soft, smooth flesh of her bottom. I rolled my head sideways and wiggled my tongue underneath her bikini bottoms. I stretched it across that as yet untouched flesh, reaching with the tip until I felt it find that tight place where her the two halves of her butt met. Then, I bent the tip down into the gap, reaching for her little hole. I couldn't quite make it.

I drew back and urgently slipped my index and middle fingers under her bikini bottom just at the place where I'd been struggling. I yanked the fabric aside, and then I had access. I mashed my face into her bottom and extended my tongue until, finally, it touched her anus. I caressed it with the tip of my tongue.

Mom sighed, and I licked her ardently. Mom's breathing grew rapid, and she hummed her pleasure.

Satisfied, I released the fabric.

I took each of her ankles in my hands, and I spread them apart, opening her as wide as I could. I pushed her legs back, again lifting her crotch upward.

I looked up at her. She was craning her neck down to watch me. Her chest rose and fell, and her face, cheeks infused with pink, glistened with a hint of perspiration.

I tightened my grip on her ankles, feeling complete control. Then I bent toward the apex of the triangle of satiny swimwear covering her vagina.

As I closed with her body, she huffed, "You mustn't. My rules."

Pausing, I glanced up at her and said, "I'm touching your swimsuit. You said that was okay." Then, I kissed her vagina through the suit. I did it again, and then I pressed my tongue against it and dragged it against her. I jabbed my tongue into the fabric, wiggling it until I felt her labia underneath. I worked to separate them with my tongue, adding force. Before long, I felt my tongue wedged between, inside the slit. I flattened it into the small space and licked her there.

"Oh," she gasped. "Oh, baby."

I wanted to taste her fluids, even if it had to be through the fabric. A minute into my efforts, I smelled her aroma, but I still hadn't gotten even a hint of her flavor. I tried something else.

I opened my mouth and pressed my lips over her vagina, and then I sucked on her skin through the silky material, dabbing and licking occasionally with my tongue. My chin bobbed as if I were munching on her. When I drew back to look, the crotch of her suit was saturated with my saliva; it no longer looked navy, but midnight blue, even black. I leaned forward, latched onto her crotch with my lips and sucked hard, massaging with my tongue, coaxing her fluids through the material. I glanced up at her, and she was watching me suck her vagina, biting her lower lip. We made eye contact, and she whimpered.

I lapped on the fabric several times, and then pursed my lips and sucked as hard as I could. Her suit and the flesh underneath it drew between my lips, and then, finally, I tasted her.

I released my suction and gasped, "I can taste your vagina."

She moaned, "Mm-Hmm."

The act of sucking her vagina and tasting her fluids sent a thrilling wave through me. It gave me goosebumps and made the hairs on my neck stand straight. I munched and sucked more.

Again, she moaned; I lapped up her fluids as they came. Before long, Mom began holding her breath and giving voice to her pleasure in gasping bursts.

I wanted to try something else.

I rose to my feet and grasped my erection. I pressed it into the wetness I'd created and humped her in small strokes, pushing the tip of my penis and the material underneath it into her vagina.

The fabric resisted me, and I could not penetrate deeply at all. Still, the sight of Mom, spread eagled with her bottom up off the mattress, while the tip of my erection jabbed into her, made my body tremble with excitement. She watched my body, her chin down on her chest and mouth agape, as the head of my penis jammed against her.

She noticed me watching her face, and her eyes met mine. Her expression was a look of confusion mixed with passion. It seemed she was saying that this was not what she expected—to be splayed and powerless while her son dry-humped her bikini into her vagina—but she liked it, despite herself.

One of her hands appeared on her tummy, and I watched as it slid down, over her bikini bottoms and began to rub just above the place where I was thrusting. I glanced up at her. Her eyes closed; her head sank back onto the mattress.

I continued to push into her, same as before, but she wasn't the same at all. Soon, Mom began moaning loudly. Her middle finger swirled in rapid circles through the fabric over her clitoris. Her mouth fell open and she howled at the ceiling. Her pleasure thrilled me, and I ratcheted up my own pace.

"Yes! Oh, baby! Oh!" she cried.

Suddenly, she shrieked once, then again, and one last time before she overpowered my hand hold on her ankles. Her legs embraced my torso and pulled me in. The forces—her legs drawing me in, on the one hand, and her swimsuit's resistance, on the other—made my erection ache. I growled. Her back arched, pushing her breasts high.

She screamed, "My baby!" I lost count how many times. Her hand, the whole time, rubbed frantically over her clitoris. Her volume began to slowly diminish, and towards the end, her hand fell away and she was only whispering the words.

Her body visibly sagged, and her legs set me free. My aching penis almost immediately began to feel better. I sunk to the floor, sitting back on my heels.

Mom rolled onto her left side, curling her legs up on the bed into the fetal position. She sighed.

Her bottom looked absolutely beautiful. It pointed right at me, hanging a few inches over the edge of the bed. On her side, the upward curve of her waist exaggerated the femininity of her figure. I ran my hands over her butt, waist, and hips. The soft warmth and the hint of perspiration made my penis squeeze involuntarily.

I looked at Mom's face, and it was a mask of serenity. She might have been sleeping. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically. Her eyes were closed, but relaxed.

Behind her back, I saw the vaseline and the sample cup. I reached for the lubricant.

I popped the lid and dabbed some on the middle finger of my right hand. With my left, I hooked my thumb under the bottom edge of her swimsuit and lifted it over the dark fissure of her bottom. I slid my lubricated finger into the crease and rubbed it into the space, all along the crack. I gathered more on my fingertip, slid my finger back through, and covered her anus with it.

She shifted, humming softly, and I froze. I glanced at her face; her eyes remained closed, and she still looked perfectly tranquil.

But, there was a difference. It was her back. She'd arched it very slightly, and it pushed her bottom out towards me.

I slipped my finger out of her freshly-lubricated butt, and I gathered more of the greasy stuff. I coated my erection, and it shined. I stroked myself a few times, and it made me gasp to feel how eager my body was for release.

I reached behind my back and found my towel. I wiped my hand with it. I tossed it on the floor, and then I sat up and scooted closer to Mom's bottom.

Stopping, I reached behind her and grabbed the sample container. I unscrewed the lid and set it on the floor in front of me.

All was ready.

I hooked my thumb under her bikini again, and I lifted it. I held her hip with my fingers, keeping her butt exposed to me. I checked Mom's face—still restfully impassive. I scooted closer, and then I grabbed my erection.

I would be entering where her bottom met her lower back—the very top of her bottom—and trying to push through to where her bikini bent back to cover her vagina.

I slipped it between her cheeks. When I let go, the two hefty globes squeezed it out; she was too well lubricated. I held the shaft and pushed it back into the crease. The front half of my erection was all that fit in the cleft of her bottom before I began to run up against her swimsuit. The slippery-soft friction made me gasp. I felt my heart thump against my rib cage.

I glanced at Mom. She hadn't moved or made a sound.

When I pushed, the left side of my penis touched and glided just past her anus before I had to draw back. Still gripping the shaft with my right hand, I nudged it to the left as I thrusted. When the tip crossed her little hole, I felt her muscle give way, ever so slightly, before the head passed beyond it. I pulled back and paused.

Her anus was ready. I could squeeze my penis through it.

Such a betrayal would make her furious.

I had seen Mom angry before. When she got mad, the inside of the house grew hot. If she came into the room where I was, my body tensed up like it was preparing for a fist fight—the frayed nerves, the supercharged adrenaline, the knocking heartbeat. I sensed her glare, and it made me perspire. In my peripheral vision, I saw her almost trembling with rage, poised to lash out. When would it come? Is it now? Am I ready for this? One never knew how long this burning silence would last.

When she couldn't hold it back any longer, a major attack ensued. Her eyes turned red with fierce tears and she unloaded her shocked offense at my sin, her righteous disappointment in my treachery, and her grave doubts about my future. Her voice slashed through every room of the house.

When it was over, when she'd said her piece, a long, dark ice age settled into the house. During that time, the very sight of the offender would plummet her into silent tears. Over that period after the huge attack, it was almost as if she would go out of her way to help and serve the guilty party, but always with the deepest of disappointment and sadness in her eyes.

For me, it ended when she called me to her room, closed the door, and hugged me. She rocked back and forth, rubbing my back, and holding me close. She didn't say a word.

Thinking of this, I dared not risk it—inciting her fury, giving her pain, and causing such heartbreak.

I sat back and let go of her bikini bottoms. I pulled her legs off the bed, rolling her onto her tummy with her knees on the floor.

She mumbled unintelligibly.

I pulled her bikini bottoms down to the tops of her thighs.

She groaned something.

I set the semen jar on the bed and scooted myself right behind her. I clutched her hips and thrust against her, feeling the underside of my erection ride through the cleft of her bottom. I grunted and did it again.

Mom groaned under the strength of my thrusts.

I was making love to her, I told myself, in every way, but penetration. Holding her hips and taking her this way—from behind, like she was the old mare and I the young stallion—electrified me.

Mom began to shove back against me.

Our bodies slapped together. I heard it, and I quickened my pace, adding force to my thrusts. She matched me in every way.

The wood of my bed frame began creaking rhythmically. I watched Mom's big bottom absorb the energy of our collisions. I reached out and seized a massive lock of her red curls, and I pulled her head up from the mattress with it.

She cried, "Oh!"

I rode her, clutching her hair in a ponytail. The wallop of our bashing bodies sounded like wet sponges slapped on a wood floor. I felt my body gathering itself up as if for an explosion of physicality.

"Mom, I'm gonna."

"Let it come, baby." she urged. "Ejaculate on me."

I slammed once more into her bottom and froze. My penis was perched high where the cleft of her bottom met her back; my testicles were squashed against the soft flesh underneath. I gasped and glanced down in time to see the semen gush out of the tip, at first, and then leap from it, sending volleys of the fluid cascading across her back.

I sucked in a breath, feeling the waves if pleasure ease.

"Stroke out the rest, baby. I won't move."

I grasped my erection and urged the last drops out of the tip, and I let them drip on her bottom. I sat back on my heels and surveyed her body.

The line of her crack shined with lubricant. Drops of semen rested in several places on the tops of her fat spheres. Her lower back had a small pool in the middle. Lines, curls, and gobs of ejaculate marked the middle of her back. One small droplet had lodged itself in her hair.

I grabbed the container.

Mom said, "I'll stay still. Get as much as you can, baby. Scoop it up."

I spent the next minute or so collecting the semen into the cup with my finger and the lip of the jar, itself. I'd gotten everything, except one small drop. "Mom, there's some in your hair back here." I touched her hair close to the spot.

Mom pushed herself from the bed, stood and sat back down on the edge. She reached behind her head and pulled her hair around to her chest. She surveyed it, found the droplet, and fed the semen-impregnated lock into her mouth. She sucked it clean and motioned to me with her hand.

I gave her the cup, and she spit into it. "Is that everything?" she asked.

I nodded.

She looked at my semen in the bottom of the container and said, "I think that's close to normal. Certainly we missed a little bit, but it will be fine." She gave a relaxed sigh.

"Did I do okay?"

"Let's discuss it later. I'd like to rest here a bit and then take a shower. Can you please put the sample in the freezer?"

I took it from her and left the room, wondering what she wanted to discuss. I thought I already knew.

Twenty Cups Ch. 03

A holiday visitor arrives; Mom's boundaries tested.

Author's Note: I intended on getting this chapter out much sooner, but fell very ill. Please forgive any errors, regular editor quite busy.

***

After I put the container in the freezer, I took a quick shower. Mom was still resting in my room, curled up on my bed. So, I went downstairs and laid on the couch, naked under a blanket.

A few minutes later, I listened to footsteps in the upstairs hallway, walking out of my room and towards the master bedroom. Then, I heard the shower running.

I watched tv, waiting for her. When she finally came down, I felt nervous. She'd told me, after I ejaculated all over her back, that she wanted to discuss something. I knew it wouldn't be good; I kept pushing the limits she placed on us.

Mom went directly into the kitchen, and I listened as she opened the freezer. She was checking the sample. The freezer door closed, and she came into the family room.

"Baby?"

I looked at her.

"I don't appreciate how you chose to twist my rules around."

"I'm sorry."

"Why did you do it?"

"Wanted to taste it again."

The hint of a smile twitched upon on her lips before she turned away. "You...you still enjoy the taste of my special place?" She glanced back at me.

I nodded.

She sighed, putting her hands on her hips. Shaking her head, she offered, "It is possible that my rule is unfair to you—you're a curious boy who's trying to learn, aren't you?"

I nodded. "I really, really like it."

She pursed her lips. "I need to think about this."

I nodded. "Did it feel good, Mom?"

"Yes, baby. You gave me an orgasm."

I smiled.

Her face grew deadly serious. "But, I will not—repeat: not—be allowing you to have sexual intercourse with me. Under no circumstances are you to attempt to mount me. Is that perfectly clear?"

"Yeah."

"Very well. Tomorrow, you're on your own. I have been invited to a seminar at the Women's Hospital, and Lia wishes to join me. The day after that, you know, is Christmas Eve. I may be available."

"Okay."

"We will likely have a guest over Christmas, so that day may be tricky."

"Oh, no. Her again?"

Mom nodded. "She's going to go on her cruise again this year, and she wanted to visit us before heading out. One night is all."

I sighed.

"Be kind to my sister, baby. She loves us. She truly does."

"If she's nice to you, I'll be nice to her."

"Be nice anyways."

I reluctantly nodded.

"Thank you," she sighed.

I nodded, and then I said, "Mom?"

"What is it?"

"Do you like the taste of my penis?"

"Of course, I do. Why? Does that worry you?" she asked, concerned.

I shrugged. "What about my semen?"

"Why, yes. Baby, there's nothing about you that a woman would find repulsive."

"You don't mind when my sperm is in your mouth?"

She moved towards me. "Not at all, though it can be hard not to accidentally swallow any."

I thought about this for a moment, and then I asked, "Will you swallow my sperm now, Mom?"

She glanced back toward the kitchen momentarily, and her response was immediate and definitive. "We can't waste a good sample like that. No."

"No. I mean, not from a container. Right now. Here."

Her head turned sideways, and she gave me a doubtful glance. Then, shaking her head, she said, "Baby, it isn't proper for you to request that of me. I help you for the samples, not for your sexual urges."

I laid silently.

"Why are you asking for this?"

I said, "It feels ready again and...I just want to know what it would feel like for a woman to swallow it."

She hesitated. "I...I like that you want to learn, but..."

"And when you spit it in the cup, it makes me feel like it's no good."

"I have to, baby. We need the samples. If I could swallow your sperm, I would."

I nodded at the floor, understanding, but disappointed.

I felt her watching me. When I glanced up, her face was all sympathy and compassion. "May I have a look at your testicles?" she asked, walking to me and kneeling beside the couch.

Laying on my side, I raised the blanket.

She reached out and felt my balls, rolling them in her fingers. She examined them carefully and said, "They may be a bit heavy." She glanced up at me.

"Will you do it, Mom?"

She gently squeezed my testicles. Watching her fingers undulate on my scrotum, she admitted, "It is possible that your previous orgasm was incomplete."

"Think it was," I muttered, feeling my penis expanding.

She drew her hand away from me. "So, you're proposing that I perform fellatio on you in order to provide relief?"

"Yeah."

"And you would like me to swallow your semen to learn how that feels?"

I nodded.

"Very well. I will help you this once." She scooted her body up against the couch and leaned forward. She stopped and looked up at me. "I'll begin by exciting your testicles to ensure your next orgasm is very strong." She turned her head sideways and said, "Open your legs, baby."

I did.

Her face went between them, and Mom softly kissed and licked my scrotum. I felt her hot breath in my groin. I heard the little smack of her kisses and the slow, sticky lapping of her tongue. I let out a long breath, but stopped.

Mom had just drawn one of my testicles into her mouth, and I felt her suck on it. She swallowed, tugging it toward the back of her throat. I heard the guttural cluck, and then my testicle fell from her lips. Soon, her mouth clamped around the other one, and she sucked and swallowed, sucked and swallowed. It ached like a hollow hole in my gut, but my erection surged and flexed at the sensation. I groaned.

She let it slip free and came out from between my legs. She looked at me, "Ready?"

I nodded.

She took the head of my erection into her mouth, humming softly. Her neck craned forward and drew back. It was goose-like, the movement. I caught her eye, and she pulled off.

Her voice barely reached beyond a whisper. "I was just thinking about when you were a baby, breastfeeding you. You fed from my body. And I was thinking that here I am, now, about to feed from yours." Her delicate little fingers brushed across my penis.

I nodded. "Wish I could still drink your milk."

"I know. I miss it, too." She turned from me, looking at my erection. "Feed me, baby." She opened her mouth and waited.

I urged my hips to her, and she stretched her lips around the tip. She guided my hips back into the couch, taking control, and continued goose-necking my erection. I grumbled and groaned, listening to her wet sloshes and throat gurgles.

She pulled off, and huffed, "It tastes wonderful." Cat-like, she licked the tip few times and turned to me. "Your penis is like a thick steak dinner." She opened wide and nursed on the tip for a few moments. When she released it, she turned to me. "So hearty and filling."

I nodded.

She took my erection back into her mouth, riding it with her head in long, sweeping movements. Half of it was wet with her saliva. My heart began to drum along more quickly, and my head felt light and dizzy. Mom stopped.

"It feels like you may be ready," she cooed.

"Please, Mom. Don't stop again."

"Okay, just relax and feel me swallow it." Her face turned to my erection, and she went to it. I grunted. I lasted maybe ten seconds.

My hands gripped and held her head, and my penis let slip volley after volley of semen. I felt the undulations of her tongue and throat, gathering and gorging. Each time she swallowed, she moaned as if savoring a rich dessert. Feeling her body take in my orgasm—absorb and incorporate it—when I was so used to it being detained and held, made me cry out.

My erection surged a few more times in her mouth, and I let out a gasp. Her fist gripped the shaft and milked up the final drops. I watched her cheeks sink into her jaw from the suction, and I saw her throat rise and fall one last time. She drew back, kissing the tip.

"Better?" she asked.

I nodded.

"Good," she said with a smiling sigh. "I've got it all in my tummy." Sitting on her heels, she glanced down at her stomach. Then, she began slowly caressing her belly and gazing at it, almost cherishingly, like a newly pregnant woman.

***

At dinner that night, there was great consternation from Lia and Emma about the imminent arrival of Aunt Blair on Christmas Eve. Mom did her best to demand our polite behavior and defend her sister.

We knew better.

Blair was subtly awful to Mom. She was Mom's younger sister, but she acted like she was the elder. Blair wasn't a nurse; she was a doctor. It often seemed like she lorded that over Mom—as if Mom was never smart enough to go to medical school, or as if Mom was so much of a soft-hearted pushover that she could only be a nurse, never a doctor, which was total crap.

Blair was never married. Her work was too important, she'd say. She was too busy with her research and her practice.

She went on a Caribbean cruise over the holidays every year. It was strange because she always went alone. She never took a friend, never invited us to join her. But, depending on the sail date, she always tried to visit us before she left. So, she'd fly in, stay a day or so, make us all angry, and fly out.

***

I woke up late the next morning, having played games at a friend's house until well past two. It was just after ten—time for my next sample.

I sat up in bed and threw my legs over the side, extremely groggy. The next sample container was sitting on my desk with a note.

It read, "At a conference with Lia. Make sure it's a good one, baby. Mom."

I tossed the note on the desk and listened, absolutely still.

The house seemed entirely empty, but was Emma here?

On my way to the bathroom, I peeked into Emma's bedroom. She shifted in her sleep, so I turned and left.

When I returned to my room, I climbed into bed with the sample container beside me.

I sighed and began to reach for myself under the sheets.

There was a knock on my door.

"Huh?" I called, sitting up.

The door opened, Emma's face, framed in frizzy bed-disheveled hair, peered around it. "Can I come in?" she asked. Her voice trembled.

"I'm about to...you know."

"I know. Can we talk...just for a couple minutes?"

I nodded, swinging my legs over the side.

She came in, dragging herself, and sat on the bed beside me. She laid her head on my shoulder and started crying. I held her.

"He broke up with me—Kevin. Last night."

"Sorry, Em."

"I quit giving him...you know, and I wouldn't have sex with him because he wouldn't...you know...do me."

I laid her down, covered her in my fuzzy blanket, and slid in behind her. Her hair was in my face, tangling itself in my whiskers. I didn't mind this time. She smelled good.

"He's a total asshole," she said, as if deciding, finally.

I flinched at her language. It always surprised me at first, her cursing. Then, I rubbed her shoulder.

"I'm going to say something, and I don't care if you think it's gross," she began, "I sucked his cock, like, every night since I got home from school. I treated him like a fucking prince, and he still wouldn't give it to me." She stopped, sniffled, and wiped her eyes. "All he wanted me for was blowjobs. I started feeling like his little slut, and there was no way I was going to let him fuck me, and when I told him, he broke up."

"Sorry," I muttered. Wrapping my arm around her tummy and nuzzling into her hair, I held her in silence.

A few minutes later, she said, "Thank you for being here for me, fuzzy boy."

I grunted.

"Are you and Lia in love?"

My eyes shot open, and I drew back from her. Emma must have felt it, she turned around.

"No," I said. "She just...Mom had her watch once to see and...one time Mom couldn't be here and she told Lia to make sure I did it right and...we wanted to learn."

"It was beautiful seeing you together. I know that's gross. I don't care." She looked up at the ceiling, as if remembering. "I thought you were going to have sex with her. She's still a virgin."

"Me, too."

"Me, three," Emma uttered, and we both chuckled half-heartedly. She rolled on her side again, back to me. She said, "Can I ask you something?"

I held her close and grunted.

"Did you like licking her pussy?"

I nodded. "A lot."

"What about her ass?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Emma was quiet for a short time, and then she asked, "Are you getting a hard on?"

"Talking about sex, " I mumbled. "Being close like this."

"Care if I stay here and watch you do it?"

"Huh-uh."

She rolled on her back. I grabbed the container and unscrewed it. Putting the lid on Emma's belly, I lifted my hips up and slid down my shorts. Then, I took the container in hand and tossed the blanket off of myself. I felt Emma's gaze on my body.

I wasn't fully erect, but I grabbed my penis and began to stroke myself. Emma's smell and the feel of her body near mine helped.

"Yours is a lot bigger that Kevin's," she said, and her voice sounded hesitant. She rolled on her side, facing me, and scooted closer. I felt her breast on my arm.

My penis finished filling out and growing hard. I massaged it as Mom had shown me, but I was more forceful. It would have felt strange, treating my body with the same tenderness that Mom and Lia had.

Emma spoke, barely louder than a whisper, "The tip is so wide and smooth."

I continued stroking.

Emma scooted down a little and rested her head on my shoulder. "Is that how you always masturbate?"

I didn't respond.

"Oh, you don't like to do it, do you?" she answered for herself. "But, when you do, is that how you do it?"

"I guess."

"That's like what I did to Kevin. I think I was doing it about the same."

I was taking long, silent breaths. Everything was beginning to feel good.

"Do you ever do it with two hands?" she asked.

"No."

"You could," she remarked.

I smelled light, floral perfume. Her cheek felt warm on my shoulder, and her breath almost tickled as it ran over my skin. One of her nipples, I felt, hardened on my arm.

I liked how she watched my penis, and how, every so often, she looked up at me.

I heard Emma swallow. Then, her voice stammered and broke when she whispered, "C-Can I...." She cleared her throat and gulped. "Care if I feel how hard it is? Just for a second?"

I let go of my penis, and it dropped toward my stomach.

Emma's hand reached for it. She squeezed it between her fingertips and her thumb before wrapping her digits completely around it. She raised it up. "Yeah, Kevin's gets hard like this. Yours is maybe a little harder. It's way more thick." She let it down.

I took it up and began masturbating again. More slowly now.

Emma's body moved. It snuggled and inched down. Her face was more on my chest than my shoulder now. One of her breasts rested on my bicep. Her silky leg rubbed up and down my shin.

She spoke with hesitance. "Can I...can I show you how I did it to Kevin? See if I'm doing it right?"

I nodded and let go.

She took the shaft in her fingers and tugged the skin, stroking it three or four times. I sucked in a gulp of air.

"Feel good?" she asked.

I nodded.

She released my penis and adjusted her body, again, inching down another fraction.

I grabbed the base of my erection with my thumb and two fingers. I raised it to vertical.

My penis, a heavy column of throbbing flesh, waited on her.

Emma looked at it. In her airy, near-whisper, she said, "It's so majestic." A few moments later, she sat up. "Care if I look at it more closely?"

I shook my head.

She sat on her knees beside me. "Your balls are huge," she uttered, and her fingers glided all over my scrotum, lifting it and rolling each testicle on her fingertips. "Kevin's are like robin's eggs."

I nodded.

She raised my erection high and bent over it. Her nose brushed against the head, and I felt air pass over it when she whiffed. She let out her breath and said, "I like it. It's better than Kevin's. He smelled like pee and cologne; you smell like...I don't know...sex."

She began to stroke me, and I sighed and grumbled at the feel of her soft hand. Her eyes locked onto my erection.

"I want to kiss it," she softly declared.

I watched her bend down. I saw her lips press together and fatten. They pushed against the smooth, swollen head, and then I heard the tiny smack of her kiss. She looked at me.

I nodded.

Her lips gently pressed against it, again and again. She kissed my penis everywhere, like it was her baby or her lover. When she quit, she looked up at me and asked, "Care if I...if I give you a blowjob?"

I shook my head.

Emma pulled my legs apart and sat between them. Her head descended, and I heard her take a quick gasp of air as her jaw fell open and the head of my penis disappeared into her mouth.

She felt like Mom and Lia at first. Her lips softly clasped the head and a bit past it. Then, things changed.

My penis was vanishing into Emma's mouth. The sight paralyzed me. I sucked a gulp of air and released it in a long, low growl. She didn't stop at the halfway point; she kept gathering more and more. When she stopped, nothing but a few inches of my erection showed. The front of my penis was somewhere beyond her mouth and throat; it was lodged in her neck, nestled into her esophagus.

I was panting, and the feel of her lips so deep on my penis put me in a kind of pleasure coma. My entire body felt like a lit stick of dynamite, fizzling toward a massive detonation. Emma would not even need to move.

I watched my erection suddenly reappear, shining with saliva. Emma gasped for air.

I had been biting the pad of my thumb. I drew it out and muttered. "Again, Emma."

She smiled, gripping my penis. "Can I tell you something?"

"Huh?"

"I never told Kevin, but I love giving head. I might have even kept doing it if he hadn't broken up with me. I mean, he's a total asshole, and he never ate my pussy, so I was never going to let him fuck me, but I loved it that I had a cock to suck on every night."

I nodded. "Again."

She tilted her head to the side, opened her mouth, and sucked the underside, just beneath the tip. Her lips slid down the shaft and back up. I could see her lips, fattened and pushed out, on either side of my penis. Straightening up, she opened wide and engulfed my erection. Her head slowly fell toward my belly. I gasped at the view of my penis disappearing inside her mouth, at the feel of the head of my erection slipping up her throat, spreading it wide.

My heart hammered. My head buzzed. I groaned, "Emma, don't swallow my sperm. We need it."

She nodded, and I watch her lips strain forward, reaching to gather the final few inches of my erection. She choked and drew back, but not off. I felt mucous-slick saliva slide from Emma's lips and pool in my little hairs. Her lips released me. I felt a rush of air, and then she plummeted down, down.

Adrenaline surged in my muscles, and I sucked air into my lungs, pumping in and out. My fingers searched for the container, found it, and clutched it against my hip.

"Emma, it's time," I gasped.

She didn't move.

I groaned, and then my penis felt like a hose. I wasn't firing pulses of semen into Emma; it was as if I were streaming ejaculate down her throat in an unbroken flow. When my erection squeezed, it didn't feel like it was disgorging another wave of sperm; it seemed more like I was momentarily arresting a continuous, throbbing flood.

The intensity of the orgasm lasted a few more seconds, and then it died away, leaving me only with a lingering empty buzz of pleasure.

I pushed the container against Emma's shoulder. She glanced at it and slipped off my penis, her lips pinched tightly together. She took the jar. Setting it on my thigh, she leaned over it, opened her mouth wide, stuck out her tongue, and...nothing happened. She wobbled her head a little, side to side. A few drops spilled down her tongue.
Then, she coughed—a sloppy, choking gag. My semen erupted from her throat in a massive deluge. Emma gagged and coughed again. More emerged, and much of it looked more like sticky drool than sperm. She spat twice, and ropes of saliva hung from her lips.

Inside the cup was a sample much bigger than my normal output.

Emma rose and wiped her mouth. It didn't make much difference. Her mouth and chin glistened with our combined fluids.

I took the cup, found the lid, and secured them together.

Emma collapsed on top of me.

"I took all of Kevin's, no problem. But, yours...yours is too fat for my throat. I can't get it all."

"Doesn't matter. It felt really, really good."

"Yeah?"

I nodded.

She smiled. Laying her head back down, she asked, "Promise to do me sometime?"

"Yeah."

***

On the morning of Christmas Eve, Mom got a text from Aunt Blair: her flight was arriving at 10:15am. She was supposed to be arriving later in the afternoon, but she took an earlier flight because first class had been overbooked on her original one. She texted Mom from the airport just before her departure. Mom explained it to us.

"I'll be leaving to pick her up at 9:45," she said. "Emma, I would like you to join me."

"What? Why?" Emma complained.

"Keep me company. Mom-daughter time."

"Lia can go, then," she argued.

"Not a negotiation, Emma."

Emma glared at Mom.

"Go get changed, dear."

Emma slid back from the table without a word and glided upstairs like a dark spirit.

Mom stared alternately at Lia and I until she had our silent attention. "You both know what needs to be accomplished. You know my rules. I expect you to control yourselves." She placed a sample container on the kitchen counter.

Lia's fuzzy sock rubbed against my leg under the table.

A few minutes later, I reached under the table and massaged her smooth thigh when Mom was preoccupied in the kitchen. I glanced at Lia, and her eyes were locked on mine. Peripherally, I could sense the quickened rise and fall of her huge, jutting breasts, but it was her eyes that arrested me. They were blue fire.

Before Mom turned back to us, Lia spread her legs. I slipped my hand into her crotch for a few fleetingly wonderful seconds.

***

I took Lia's hand in mine after Mom and Emma walked into the garage. When we heard the car start, Lia's fingers squeezed. Together, we walked to the window in the living room. We listened as the garage door closed; Lia and I glanced at each other. Her eyes were all excitement and joy. We watched the car pull away. It rode out of sight.

Then, we were kissing.

Despite my inexperience, Lia and I meshed well together. Lia was energetic, and it was not long before her tongue slipped into my mouth. Guided by her, I gave Lia my tongue, too.

My hands explored her body. The minute I touched one part, I desperately needed to touch somewhere else, and again. Before long, we were undressing each other in the living room.

Lia's bra was unlatched. My shirt was on the floor and Lia's fingers worked at the button on my jeans when we both stopped. Panting, we looked at each other.

I said, "Upstairs," and she said, "Not here," almost simultaneously.

We scampered upstairs to my room. I closed the door behind us, and our bodies mashed together in a kiss while our hands went back to work undressing one another. Soon, Lia's chest was bare and her pants unbuttoned.

She dropped to her knees to tug my pants and boxers down. My erection sprang free. Without a word, Lia took it with her lips. She bobbed along the shaft several times. When she kissed free of the tip, she huffed, "I love your penis." The front end disappeared inside her mouth, and I grunted at the sudden surge of ecstasy.

"Lia, I want to make love to you," I said. "In your vagina. For real. Will you let me?"

She let my erection out, staring up at me. "You want to have sex? Vaginal sex?"

I nodded.

"You're a virgin, though," she argued.

"So? I want my first to be with you."

"I'm a virgin, too. Plus, I'm your sister."

"Don't care."

She scanned my eyes. Shaking her head, she said, "Mom will find out. We can't."

"I won't ejaculate in you. In the cup, I will."

"Mom will find out."

"How?"

"She'll ask me, and I can't lie to her, not to Mom."

"How do you know she'll ask?" I demanded.

"Because ever since that first time alone for us, she always asks. I've told her everything."

"She knows about when I came to her office?"

Lia grimaced a little and said, "No, she doesn't know about that. She thinks you did it on your own that day. Didn't even ask me. Still, she knows everything we've done together. She knows that I let you make love to my breasts. She knows that I've given you blow...fellatio, I mean. She knows how you've licked me."

Lia was right. "Yeah. Yeah, she does know," I admitted.

She nodded. "And when she asks, I don't lie to her. I won't."

"What does she say when you tell her?"

"She's worried we won't control ourselves. She said if it goes any further, she's going to have to restrict us."

I sighed.

"I want to make love, too, but I'm sorry," she said, "we can't."

I shrugged.

"I liked kissing you earlier," Lia said, smiling shyly.

"Me, too."

"Want me to keep giving you a... a blowjob?" She uttered this last word only slightly louder than a whisper, and her cheeks grew pink.

"In a sec." I said. I slipped her out of her pants and panties, and then I picked her up and carried her to the bed. I laid her on her side, head to the footboard, feet to the headboard. I grabbed the vaseline and the sample cup before climbing in.

Opposite her, Lia saw what I had in mind and grinned. As I scooted toward her, she reached out and grabbed my penis. I hooked my hand around her leg and lifted her knee. Looking down, I watched Lia's lips stretch forward and clasp the tip of my erection. I nuzzled my face between her legs and kissed her vagina. The fluids were already flowing, and I lapped at them for a few seconds before I concentrated all of my efforts on and around her clitoris.

She let my penis out and huffed, "Oh, my gosh, I love this." A moment later, I felt her mouth engulf the front of my erection. I groaned into her vagina.

While she nursed on me, I remembered the depth that Emma had reached in sucking on my penis the day before. It had been stunning and incredible. Lia's mouth barely took in half of me. The difference was disappointing, but Lia made up for it by slathering me in saliva. The accompanying wet noises filled me with excitement.

My face felt coated in Lia's fluids when I drew back from her vagina. I grabbed the vaseline, opened it, and dabbed some with two fingers. I pushed the lid down with my thumb before burying my face back into Lia's crotch.

I slid my hand through her legs and reached up to her bottom. Then, I sank my two fingers in the cleft until they touched her anus. Spreading the slick goop around her tiny hole, I continued munching, sucking, and flicking my tongue over her clitoris.

Aroused, but not so much that she didn't notice, Lia stopped sucking. "Is that vaseline?"

"Yeah."

"What are you going to...oh!"

I had pushed the tip of my middle finger inside her. At the same time, I planted my lips on her vagina and sucked her clitoris into my mouth; my tongue wiggled upon it.

Lia moaned.

I pushed my finger further inside her. Initially, I didn't know how much lubricant I put on her, but now I knew: a lot. My middle finger easily sank to the root. I drove my finger into her bottom, and I circled her clitoris with my tongue. Throughout, Lia's mouth held my erection, but she was no longer sucking. She gasped and cried into it, swallowing her own saliva every so often.

Withdrawing my middle finger, I joined my index finger to it. When Lia felt the two press against her little hole, she uttered, "Softly. Do it softly."

The tips of my digits opened her, and she cried, "Oh!" I waited for her to relax, slowly lapping inside her vagina. Lia slurped my penis. I felt the wetness slide up the shaft into her mouth, and then she swallowed and gasped.

I squeezed my fingers deeper inside her. Lia hummed a plaintive moan, and I felt it's vibration through my erection. I kissed away from her vagina and looked down at her.

LIa's eyes pinched shut. Her mouth gaped, and my rigid penis was extended inside it. She panted through her mouth like she'd just run three miles. I felt air whisk along the shaft. A thin line of drool stretched from her lower lip down to my thigh. Every third or fourth breath was accompanied by a sweet, airy moan.

My fingers could go no further, so I gently rotated them inside her.

We looked at each other. Her eyes seemed to be pleading, "Why are you doing that to me?" But, before I could stop and pull them out, she nodded and moaned.

So, I nodded back, and then I ploddingly made love to her bottom with those two fingers. Lia held my penis with her lips and hummed her pleasure and pain into it.

After a half-minute or so, I drew my fingers out. My erection felt like it was made of concrete.

Lia looked at me, still clasping my penis with her lips.

"Get on your knees," I said.

She grabbed the shaft and pulled it out of her mouth. She looked at it, and then she turned back to me. She didn't say a word, but rolled onto her tummy, and then pushed up to her hands and knees.

I swung myself around and moved behind her. Taking the little tub of vaseline, I covered my erection with it. Lia craned her neck around to watch me, and her eyes widened.

"Are you going to put it in my bottom?" she asked.

"Yeah. Just a little."

"I don't think it will fit."

"But, do you want me to try, Lia?"

She didn't respond, just looked at me. Then, without a word, she faced forward and nodded.

I scooted into position.

She pleaded, "Don't ejaculate in my butt, okay? We've got to get your sample."

"I know. I've got the cup." I set it beside me.

"Okay," she said. "Be gentle." She took a few deep breaths.

There was a proportionality to my penis and her bottom. The sizes, relative to each other, seemed a good match. But, the moment I squeezed her cheeks apart and aligned my erection against her little hole, all symmetry was lost. My penis was cruelly disproportionate to her anus. It was almost shocking. I thought of the nature program on tv, where the zoologist explains that a certain species of snake could swallow a basketball by dislocating its jaw. For Lia to fit my penis in her bottom would be like the snake and the basketball.

I held my erection and stroked it a few times. It was ready—too ready, maybe. I was already close.

Placing the tip against her little pink puncture, I pushed. Her bottom allowed it, absorbing the force by opening wide. Soon, almost the entire tip was inside her.

Lia held her breath, and I could see her straining. Blood infused her face, turning it pink. She grunted. The muscles of her back twitched and fired.

The head of my erection popped inside, and Lia's anus cinched tightly just over the mushroom tip. She hollered, "Oh!"

Lightheadedness took me. I grabbed her hips to steady myself.

Lia cried out. Then, her head and torso dropped down to the mattress, and she laid there, bottom up. I saw her arm slip underneath her body, and I felt her hand begin to rub herself underneath my penis. Shortly, she began uttering a series of whining moans.

I closed my eyes. My penis twitched, and my heart chugged like a runaway train. I'd never wanted to ejaculate so desperately. Every instinct screamed at me to never pull out, but I knew I must. In that moment, I hated and cursed the sample cups.

The pleasure kept spiraling upward. Lia's little noises were thrilling me, and I wanted to cover my ears. It was over, and I'd never even thrusted. Not once.

I looked down at the place where I was joined to her, and I slipped my erection free. Grabbing the cup, I pointed myself into it and let loose.

Lia rolled over to watch. Her eyes were glassy, but energized and ablaze.

She liked it, I thought, as I coaxed the final few drops out of my erection. Her breasts rose and fell. I set the cup down and admired her body. Lia was on her back, propped up on her elbows. Her legs were slightly bent and spread wide.

I laid between them and licked her vagina.

Several minutes later, she pulled my head into her with her hands and legs, crying out. Her body shook.

I rolled onto my back when she released me.

Lia scooted down to me and caressed my cheek. We made out for a long time. I squeezed her fat breasts and slid my hand over the rolling slope of her hips. I dragged my fingers between the silky cheeks of her bottom. I was beginning to grow hard again when we heard the garage door open.

It was a race to get dressed.

"I love being with you, Lia," I said, yanking up my trousers.

She pulled on her panties. "I liked having your penis inside me."

I stopped, asking, "Even in your bottom, you did?"

"Yes," she said, slipping her arms through her bra straps.

"What about real sex? Will you?"

"I don't know."

"Are you going to tell Mom what we just did?" I asked.

"I'll try not to. What if she asks you?"

"Masturbated into the cup. It's what happened, right?"

She nodded; a little grin turned on her lips.

Lia won the race to get dressed; I still had to wash off the vaseline.

***

After the mandatory hugs and kisses, I moved Aunt Blair's bags into Lia's bedroom. Lia would sleep in Emma's room. It was a fairly typical arrangement for the girls on Christmas Eve during Aunt Blair's visits.

We had lunch together in the kitchen.

Guided by my newfound sexual awareness, I took in Aunt Blair's face and body at convenient opportunities.

Everything about her seemed manufactured. Born a red head, like Mom, Aunt Blair dyed her hair jet black. She also had it straightened and cut short, so that, parted on the side, her locks kind of cradled her face to just below her chin.

Though naturally blue eyed, she must have been wearing colored contact lenses, because her eyes were brown. Aunt Blair wasn't pale, like Mom and my sisters, she was naturally tan, and her freckles were usually a sparse smattering of dirty-brown marks on her face and nose. But, we rarely saw those freckles anymore. As usual, she had slathered make-up on herself. I imagined running a fingernail over her cheek and coming away with a nail full of creamy, pinkish gunk. Her lips were oddly pinched and fat—had been for several years since she "had them done."

She seemed unusually skinny for her build, which was very similar to Mom's. We heard that Blair went to the gym all the time. Her skin was tight and shiny, as if the natural wrinkles were being pinched together behind her by some unseen clothespin. Her breasts were fat, rigid bubbles springing from her chest—an odd sight on a woman in her mid-40s.

She was younger than Mom, but her artificiality made her somehow seem older. All the work she'd done to appear younger only made the opposite seem true.

A man's first impression of her might have been "a sexy little mama." But, the more one came to know her, the more artificial and repulsive she became.

She took a few bites of her half-sandwich as she and Mom discussed Blair's recent visit to Grandma's.

"That reminds me," Aunt Blair declared, "Remember when I came home for Christmas my freshman year and Mom and Dad let us have drinks?"

Mom nodded.

"Well," Blair continued, "I was thinking that tonight we should all have drinks together, now that everyone's in college."

Emma nodded. "Yeah, can we, Mom?"

Lia said, "Cool!"

Mom glanced at me. "Blair, he can't have any drinks."

"Not wine, of course," Blair responded, "but he could have a few beers. There's no fructose, only maltose."

"It's not that, Blair, it's...we can't alter his diet right now."

"Is he...," Blair began, and then she turned to me. "Are you in some kind of treatment?"

I glanced at Mom, and then back to Blair, "I...."

Mom said, "It's private, Blair. Personal."

Blair looked at me, and then her mouth opened. She turned to Mom. "You're testing his sperm for fructose, aren't you?"

Mom sighed and nodded.

Blair said, "I read the article, too, Meg. The November journal?"

Mom nodded.

Blair shook her head condescendingly at Mom. "Do you know how exceedingly rare that is? For him to have both? It would be...he'd be one of maybe five males in all of the United States."

"I just wanted to make sure."

My aunt turned to me and asked, "So, you're giving ten sperm samples?"

"Twenty," I corrected.

"Twenty?" she responded.

Mom interjected, "The doctor is out of town. She figured he might as well give as many as he can for accuracy."

"Makes sense. Are they checking everything?"

"What do you mean?" Mom asked.

"I mean, are they just checking for fructose in his semen or are you doing a full battery of fertility testing?"

"Just fructose."

"Well, don't you see how silly that is, Meg? If he's got to provide sperm samples, you might as well check for everything: count, motility, volume, genetic formation, the works."

There it was: the disgusting condescension. I glanced at Emma, and her eyes were butcher knives, pointing at Aunt Blair. Lia, to my left, was watching Mom's reaction.

Mom was used to such treatment. She didn't say a word.

Aunt Blair continued, "Did the doctor perform a full examination prior to testing?"

Mom cast a brief look at me, and then said, "No, just a regular health check."

"Meg, dear, there are so many more aspects that his physician can check in order to determine fertility—not just fertility, but the overall health of the penis and testicles. Now, other physicians might disagree, but there are a number of factors that can be determined through a full examination of his genitalia, not just his sperm samples. Did they not teach this at nursing school?"

Mom blinked, and her lips curled inside her mouth, under her teeth. She swallowed, and then spoke. "Yes, of course they did. My focus was on the issue of fertility in relation to his fructose intolerance."

Blair threw her hands up, as if Mom were being argumentative. "Okay, okay. Whatever. All I'm saying is that as long as you're doing the one, you might as well do it all."

"You make a good point, Blair, but his regular physician, as I said, is out of town and..."

"I'll examine him tomorrow," Blair interjected. "What time do you provide your sample?" she asked me.

"Uh...." I was reeling from the notion that my Aunt was proposing to examine my penis. "Ten or so in the morning," I finally responded. I glanced at Mom, and I felt Lia and Emma watching me.

"That will be perfect," Blair announced. Turning back to Mom, she said, "Before he provides his sample, then, I'll swing up to his room and do what I can."

Mom said, "That's...that's very good of you to offer, but you're on vacation. We don't want to put you out, and he might not feel altogether..."

Overriding Mom, Blair said, "I'm a doctor, Meg. It's what I do; I help people." Looking at me, she said, "Tomorrow at ten, kiddo."

I looked to Mom for a veto. Nothing. I nodded.

Mom's eyes crawled up to meet mine. She was sorry. I could tell. Under the table, Emma kicked my calf. Do something!

I ate my fructose-free lunch, and Blair moved the conversation on to the islands her cruise ship was visiting.

On Christmas morning, Aunt Blair was going to examine my genitals.

***

That night, I was in Emma's room with Lia. Mom and Aunt Blair were out together.

"Can you believe that? Can you believe how rude she was to Mom?" Emma asked.

I nodded.

Lia said, "I can, Em. Aren't you used to it by now?"

"No! I'll never get used to what a bitch she is."
Lia and I flinched at Emma's language. We caught each other's eyes. Lia said, "I just feel sorry for you."

"Oh, I know. Ugh," Emma groaned, "I can't imagine anything worse than having my aunt check out my junk."

They both watched me. I shrugged, resigned. "Whatever."

"Why didn't Mom stand up for you?" Lia asked.

I shrugged again.

Emma said, "She's never stood up to Aunt Blair. Mom just lets her walk all over her."

"I can't wait 'till she leaves," Lia said. "She's a disgusting person."

"And what a wierdo, too—going on cruises by herself? What is that?" Emma wondered.

"Why hasn't she ever invited us to go?" I asked.

Lia shook her head and shrugged.

"Who would even want to go?" Emma demanded. "She doesn't even invite any friends, Mom says."

"It's weird," Lia declared. Then she asked me if I was upset at Mom.

"Not really. I just feel bad for her."

"Why?" Emma asked me.

Lia answered on my behalf, "Aunt Blair's got her beaten down. She's like the sister version of an abusive husband—verbally abusive, you know?"

"A bully," I said.

Emma nodded. "Mom needs to stand up to her."

Christmas morning—the gifts and everything—were to be delayed until after my examination, which made it all worse. The girls and Mom would be waiting for Blair to examine my penis, and then everyone would have to wait for me to finish masturbating. They'd probably be waiting in the kitchen, I dejectedly thought, when I wandered downstairs with a jar of sperm to put in the freezer.

Emma and Lia moved the conversation onwards, talking about past holidays, hilarious moments, and strange gifts. There was a lot of laughter. It helped because I was nervous.

***

I showered first thing when I got up. I didn't want to smell funny for Aunt Blair.

Hot water and suds pouring down me, my penis looked half it's normal size, a shriveled, weak thing. Terrified. My scrotum, tight and crinkled, pulled my testicles close.

I dressed and picked up my room. Smelling my sheets, I decided to swap them out in secret with fresh ones. I sprayed cologne in my room, and then I decided it was too much. I turned the fan on and opened the window and the door.

Everyone was downstairs. I heard them chatting in the kitchen.

I waited in my room. It was 9:20.

I spent forty minutes playing out embarrassing scenarios in my head. I hated Blair for this.

I looked at myself in the mirror and decided to change my clothes. A few minutes later, I changed back.

At ten of ten, I heard someone—Blair, I guessed—coming upstairs, and my heart began to pound in my chest. She turned away at the top of the stairs, and went into her room. I heard the door close, and let out a sigh.

I hated her.

And I hated that my penis seemed so pathetically small that morning. A few times, while I waited, I tried to masturbate myself to semi-hardness.

Nothing made any difference.

I cursed, and then apologized to myself for cursing.

Then, there was a knock on my door.

I held my breath and opened it.

Blair stood there in a white lab coat, carrying a red purse-like bag. A stethoscope hung around her neck, and she was wearing black-rimmed glasses.

She looked at herself, and then back to me. "Doctors, kiddo, learn very early on to have a travel kit. Vacations can never truly be vacations when duty calls."

I nodded and moved aside, locking the door behind her. She watched me do it and nodded.

Standing in the center of my room, she set the bag down on my desk and asked about my height and weight.

I told her, noticing now that her lab coat barely covered the short green skirt underneath it, and her bare, bronze, and shapely legs, from the top of her knees down, were exposed. She wore a red and green blouse under her lab coat, and her jutting breasts forced open the coat at her chest.

She gestured for me to sit on the side of my bed. I did.

She came over and took my temperature. She checked my eyes, ears, nose, and throat. She asked me about recent illnesses, allergies, and how I felt, in general.

I answered her questions quietly.

Satisfied, it seemed, she withdrew a black blood pressure cuff from her red satchel. She sat beside me, rolled up my sleeve, and wrapped the device around my right arm.

"Relax, kiddo. Just let your arm hang loosely."

She took my blood pressure, and I watched her listening, intently and watching the meter.

She unwrapped the velcro sleeve and said, "Good. Take off your shirt."

I did.

She hung the stethoscope on her ears and listened to my heart, telling me when to take deep breaths and moving to different spots. The metal was cold on my back. Her off hand rested on my shoulder.

She rose and turned to me. "Your general health is fine."

I nodded.

Blair hung the stethoscope around her neck. "Okay, you seem a little bit nervous," she said. "No need to be. I'll be quick. I'll talk you through everything I'm doing."

I stared at her.

"Now, I need to see your genitalia, so off with the pants, the underwear, everything."

I tried to sense the state and disposition of my penis and testicles. Were they still hiding out down there? I couldn't tell, and there wasn't time.

I stood and slipped out of my shorts and underwear.

Everything was still small and tight. I closed my eyes and cursed, for the second time that day, but only in my head.

I didn't even look at Aunt Blair.

"Kiddo, I've seen thousands of penises. Big, small, in-between. Thousands. Just relax." She walked over to me. "I'm going to touch you."

One hand fell on my shoulder; the other dropped from view.

I stared up at the ceiling.

"Are you cold?" she asked.

I shook my head. "Fine," I said. I hated her. I hated her.

"I'm examining your genitalia for general health. I'll be feeling for any abnormalities in form. I'll be asking questions about urination and sexual functionality."

I didn't respond, mortified by my situation and the sad state of my penis.

I felt her fingernails, and then her fingers. She pivoted, prodded, squeezed and twisted my penis. Her fingers rolled my testicles around and pulled at my scrotum. My sex organs were like some pile of dough she was preparing for the oven.

"Does it ever hurt when you urinate?"

"No."

"Are you urinating more frequently than usual or with less volume?"

"No."

"Have you ever been concerned about something you saw or felt on your penis or testicles?"

"No."

"Do you have any concerns about your erections?"

"No."

"Not being as firm as usual?"

"No."

"Not relaxing and abating?"

I looked at her.

"Not going down," she clarified.

"No."

"Since I'm already here," she said, and then I felt her finger shove into my groin beside a testicle. "Turn your head and cough."

The pressure she was applying was well beyond any I had experienced in this procedure. I winced and coughed.

She switched positions. "Again."

I glared at her and coughed.

She stopped. "You don't like me, do you, kiddo?"

I didn't respond.

"I'm trying to help you, and..."

"You're nasty to Mom. You treat her like a child..."

"Well, sometimes she is one!" Blair snapped. "What kind of little fool sends her son for one kind of fertility test without just doing the complete battery?"

I didn't say anything.

She squatted in front of me. "I'm looking at skin coloration, vein structure, and shape."

I glanced down for a moment, and the moment lingered. Blair's skirt had hiked up a few inches on her thighs. Above that, a few inches of cleavage showed where her breasts seemed squashed together. I could see bronze swaths of curvy, soft flesh. Her face was just a few inches from my penis, examining and scrutinizing it.

When she looked up to ask another question, I lifted my eyes up toward the wall.

"Do you have any concerns about when you masturbate or ejaculate?"

"No."

"Are you sexually active?"

I hesitated. "Yes."

"Multiple partners?"

"Er...yes."

"How many?"

I paused again before muttering, "Three."

"What kinds of sexual contact?"

I didn't respond.

"Vaginal, oral, anal, come on, kiddo."

"Oral," I responded.

"No vaginal or anal?"

"No vaginal."

"Anal?" she asked.

"Sort of."

"What does that mean?"

"I didn't put it all the way in."

"Are your sexual partners male or female or both?"

"Female."

"Any sexually transmitted diseased that you're aware of?"

"No."

She rose and stepped back. "Everything looks and feels healthy and normal. There is no reason, at this point in my examination why you might be infertile."

I nodded.

"Now, I need to examine your penis while it is erect."

"Sorry, what?"

"You need to give yourself an erection."

I didn't move.

She explained, "The shape and size of a man's penis matters in extreme cases. Some doctors disagree, but the research supports this conclusion. I mean to give your Mother a complete report. I need to see your penis while it is erect."

I sneered my disgust.

"You really dislike me," she declared, almost happily, I felt.

I turned away from her condescending stare.

"So much like your father," she sighed, and her hand cupped my testicles. Her fingers became gentle, slowly tugging and caressing my testicles.

I huffed, "What are you..."

"Giving you an erection," she said, flatly.

"It won't...you can't...," I stammered.

"You tell me you've engaged in oral sex. Did you perform, receive, or both?"

"I...both." My gut tingled from the sensation on my scrotum.

"Did you ejaculate in your partners' mouths?" Her voice had changed. It was soothing, like her touch. The sharp edge had vanished. She glanced down at her fingers, working, and then, when she looked at me again, she never broke direct eye contact.

"Yeah," I breathed.

"You're still a virgin? Really?"

I nodded.

"But, you did, as you say 'sort of' have anal sex? Once?"

I nodded. I felt blood filling my penis.

"Did you enjoy putting your erection in your partner's anus?"

"Yeah."

"I hope you used lubrication."

I nodded. Her fingers coaxed and drew me out. I felt myself lengthening and growing.

It wasn't fair. I looked at her face, and my heart filled with desire. I hated her, but I wanted her.

"Have you ever put your penis between a woman's breasts?" she asked, softly.

"Yeah."

"Did you like that?"

I nodded.

"Do you like the idea of ejaculating on a woman's breasts and on her face?"

"Rather do it inside her," I mumbled.

"Mm-hmm. Inside her mouth?"

I nodded.

"And her vagina?"

Her fingertips slipped away from my testicles. Then, her lips twisted into a smirk, and she said, "I think you're erect now, kiddo." She looked down.

And she didn't move or speak.

I looked down. I was tremendously hard. Now that was more like it.

Aunt Blair continued staring in silence.

Then, I said something. It was unthinkable. I was angry. The risk was staggering. I don't know how I mustered the guts. I said, "Suck it," and I declared it firmly. It was an order.

Blair didn't move when I said it. Seconds elapsed. I was readying myself to apologize when her hand came up to her face. She removed her glasses, and then she descended to her knees.

I watched her stare at my erection, and then she put her hand beside it—as if it were her lover's cheek—leaned forward, and kissed the plum tip of my penis.

She cleared her throat. "The size and shape of your erection will not be an impediment to fertility." I watched as Blair hung the stethoscope back on her ears and placed the drum on my penis. She moved it. And again.

"I can hear the blood flow. It's very strong," she voiced. She pulled the drum away and kissed one side, the underside, and the other side of my erection. The act was done with slow deliberation, and her mouth lingered on my skin momentarily after each gentle pinch of her lips.

Blair turned away and reached to her bag on the desk, pulling out the blood pressure cuff. I let her secure the sleeve around my penis. I saw her place the drum of her stethoscope against the bottom of the very tip of my erection. Her other hand began pumping the device.

Air filled the cuff.

More. It was tight. I felt my pulse in the shaft, inside the cuff.

More. A stranglehold. My erection throbbed to my heartbeat.

More. The head of my penis turned purple-blue, and I grunted.

Blair released the valve. The cuff fully deflated. "The heart and the penis are linked when it comes to sexual functionality. Your heart is strong, and so is your erection."

She put the stethoscope and the cuff on the floor beside her, and then she reached under my scrotum, drawing my testicles forward. Her head tilted sideways and she kissed each one of my balls.

"I had the chance to inspect your samples in the freezer. Sperm volume is well above average. I don't have the ability, here, to measure your count, but based on everything I'm seeing, I would be surprised, indeed, if your count was low. Even so, I'll encourage Beth to have your physician check your count. It's easily done, and there will be no need to provide additional samples." She looked up at me. "Assuming your sperm has fructose enough to live and swim, you are likely very, very fertile."

I nodded, waiting.

She gripped the shaft. "Am I correct that you have a sample that you still need to provide this morning?"

I nodded.

"Is the container here?"

I nodded and pointed to the pillow.

"Shall I leave you now, or do you wish for my continued expertise?" She tugged my erection and kissed the tip.

When she looked up at me, I huffed, "Stay."

Blair unbuttoned the top of her blouse, revealing even more bulbous, tan cleavage. "So, you like me now?" she asked.

I nodded. She was a hideous thing—an awful, selfish creature, but one clothed in lurid sexuality. No matter that her allure was all artificial and manufactured. No matter that it could never really hide her inner repulsiveness for long. My body needed hers, and I didn't care.

"And you want me to suck it?"

"Please."

She snorted. "Never. Suck off a virgin, naked and in front of me? With a big, beautiful penis like yours? Never." She stood and took my hand. She walked to the bed and turned to face me. Hiking up her skirt, she slipped red panties down and kicked them away. She sat on the bed and spread wide her thighs, exposing a perfectly hairless vagina. "You suck me."

I did. I sank to my knees and devoured her.

I thought about Mom, Lia, and Emma downstairs, waiting for us. I thought about how much this would disappoint them all. I knew I was betraying not just them, but myself. I shoved it all aside.

Blair breathed deeply, groaning softly now and then. She whispered, "Yes."

That her pussy didn't taste right never crossed my mind until later. It was bitter. Nor did I concern myself that it didn't feel right on my tongue. It wasn't the warm hearth of Mom or the fiery furnace of Lia. It was lukewarm—cool by comparison—and it seemed to me the texture wasn't right.

Blair lifted my head and said, "Fuck me."

I didn't hesitate. Peripherally, I saw her grab the sample container while I brought my throbbing erection in line with her vagina.

I nuzzled the tip against her and stopped.

I shouldn't do this. I don't want to lose my virginity to this...this fake old wench.

Her legs squeezed against my bottom, and my penis slid inside her. I gasped.

It was pure, thumping power and pleasure. Awe, I felt, and ravenous desire. I didn't know it could feel this way. No one, I thought, can comprehend this until they do it. And even then, my mind still couldn't quite grasp the sheer heights of this rapture.

Blair grinned, a knowing, condescending, and lording smile on her face.

I seized her breasts and drove my body against hers. I was all instinct and desire.

Vaguely, I was aware that Blair's voice encouraged me and that her eyes were fixed on my face. I didn't look back, but I felt it; my face was being read. It was as if my reaction to being inside her was the critical thing to her, like Blair's enjoyment didn't bear on my performance, but only on my response to her body.

I have no idea how long it lasted, but at some point, I felt her feet push on my chest. My penis slipped out of her. She sat up, gripped my erection, and stroked the ejaculate from me, filling the little cup.

I collapsed on the bed, face down, as she slid to the side and rose.

I heard her dressing and gathering her things as she spoke.

"I've taken a cruise like the one I'm going on every year for almost twelve years. It's a sex cruise for younger men and mature women. I don't like the term, but they call it a 'Cougar Cruise.' I love young men, and the best ones are the virgins. Problem is, you hardly ever get the virgins on those cruises."

I looked up at her. She was smiling like she'd gotten away with murder.

She said, "So, that was a very nice start to my vacation, kiddo."

I turned away.

She said, "If you ever wondered why I didn't ask your family to join me on my vacations, well, now you know. But, keep it a secret."

She had all her things, and she looked like a doctor again. The good feeling in me was wearing off, replaced by a kind of empty languor.

"Speaking of secrets," she said, "I'll keep this one if you do." When she hit the door, she turned and added, "Oh, I said before you were just like your father." She looked at my penis. "You're actually very, very different from him." She left.

As I processed what exactly she meant and it's portent, as I thought of what I'd just done with her, shame flooded me, and I hated myself and her anew.

Now, I knew I would have to go act happy and thankful, be around the girls and her. Her! I wanted nothing but to be alone.

I took a shower.

***

Throughout the day, when Aunt Blair and I glanced at each other, one side of her mouth curled up into a smirking grin. I own you, her eyes said. Mom gave her a lift to the airport later that afternoon.

After dinner, I helped Lia move back into her room. The three girls went to a movie. I opted out, staying home.

I was in bed when they got back, but I couldn't sleep.

A part of me wondered if what Blair had said about my father was from her experiences as a doctor or if she had, like me, seduced him, too. Did Blair play a role in why, all those years ago, my father had just left us?

The bigger problem for me was the sex with her. I hated that I'd done it. I hated that I wasn't a virgin anymore because of her.

While everyone else slept, I stared at the dark ceiling of my room.

I left my bedroom after two in the morning and watched television for a while. Then, I took another shower. Afterwards, I wandered the house, thinking about sex.

My first ever hand job. The pool party on graduation night. Hannah, the hottest girl in my class. Never in a lifetime would I have had a chance with her.

It was after midnight. Tons of people were drunk; I wasn't. Only four of us were still in the pool. The rest were back inside the house. It thumped with music. Her hands touched me under the water. She grinned and laughed. She picked me, jumped on my back to chicken fight the other two. We won, and when the others left, I was alone with her. I got nervous and climbed out.

She surprised me, following me into the little cabana bathroom. She kissed me, and I grew amazingly hard. She wanted to see it. I slid the trunks down. I remember the beads of water on her skin and how her blonde hair was brown with wetness, slicked back. We never even kissed while she stroked it. She just watched her hand glide.

Later that night, Hannah mingled with her friends, and I with the few of mine still around. When she looked at me, catching one another's eyes momentarily, her smile had been a beautiful mixture of bashfulness and desire.
That summer, she'd sent me a text. I don't know how she got my number. She told me a time and a place. I met her in the school gym. She was leading a youth dance camp and managed to sneak away. She took me to a little closet by the locker area. In the absolute darkness of that storage room, she'd done it again.

I thought about calling her, but I never found the courage. I decided to wait for another text, thinking that, when it happened, I would call her back and ask her out. The second text never came.

And that was the extent of my sexual experience until this, this insane winter break.

"Baby?"

I jumped.

Mom was halfway down the steps in her bathrobe, watching me walk across the landing towards the living room.

"I'm sorry. Didn't mean to startle you," she whispered.

I waved it off.

She came down the steps.

"Can't sleep either?" I asked.

"I heard you in the shower, and then I heard you walking around down here. I know something's wrong."

She looked tired, but gorgeous. Her breasts pushed the bathrobe forward on her chest, and the bottom barely covered the tops of her thighs.

"Tell me what's wrong, baby."

I shook my head. "Nothing, Mom."

"Your hurting," she whispered, "I know my baby." She hugged my side, and her breasts straddled my arm. One of her hands began rubbing my back. Her touch, in that moment, was warm perfection. My body buzzed, and I groaned at the feeling of her fingers on me.

She stopped, and I turned toward her.

"Did my sister...did something happen during the examination?"

I shook my head.

She stared at me for a moment, and her eyes were full of sad empathy. "Come up to bed, baby," she whispered.

I nodded, and she turned around.

She began walking up the steps, and I watched her. Her hips swayed, and her short legs, strong for her age, came into view. So feminine, I thought, the contours of those legs.

I began to follow her. Then I glanced a little higher and audibly gasped. She was a few steps ahead of me up the stairs. I was looking up the lower hem of her bathrobe at her fat little bottom and the thong panties that rode inside her bubble cheeks.

Immediately, I seized her hips and stopped her, cold. I held her with both hands and took the next two steps very slowly, never breaking my gaze from her bottom.

"Baby, what..."

I shushed her gently. When I was standing on the step directly behind her, our vastly different heights made it so that my groin was against her buttocks. I held myself there.

Mom took in a breath, and I nuzzled into her hair and kissed her neck.

She sighed sweetly.

I urged her torso forward, and she bent over, placing her hands down on one of the stairs above her. I lifted the bottom of her bathrobe up and over the tie at her waist, and then I pulled her hips into me. Her bottom was temptingly supple against me, so I did it again. I grew erect in my boxers, squeezing us together this way over and over.

She didn't speak, but cooed softly with each thrust once I grew hard. I heard myself breathing deeply and rapidly as if I'd been running. I caught the scent of her vagina, and found myself kneeling on the step behind her, yanking her tiny panties down, and pulling her bottom toward my mouth.

My tongue found her wetness, and I lapped it up. Listening to the sticky smacking of my tongue and Mom's low, gentle cries, I freed my erection and felt it.

Without a word, I kissed her vagina, drew back, and rose to my feet. I watched her back rise and fall silently. The shaft of my penis rode up her bottom, resting there like a baseball bat on a pillow. I reached down and grabbed it.

Panties around her ankles and bent over on the stairs, I mounted her from behind. Without a word, she let it happen. At first, when the fat tip sank into her, she held me, reaching back with one hand on my leg. I heard a muffled grunting and some gasping. I thought she was stopping me, but a few seconds later, the hand slipped away. I drove further inside her.

Every inch further in was a new, higher peak in pleasure. Her vagina was much tighter than Aunt Blair's, wetter and fleshier, as well, like my penis was driving into a warm-blooded, full-bodied woman and not some thin, crepe-like veil of lukewarm flesh.

Mom's hand snapped back and held me again. I stopped. She was humming her cries as silently as possible. I had buried almost three-quarters of my erection inside of her, and I felt her vagina contract slightly. She panted for a few moments, and then her hand fell from me. I held her hips and pushed the rest of myself inside her, feeling her wetness lubricate my penis as it sank home.

At the root, I gasped. That feeling. That feeling of raw, sexual power swept through me, and I felt myself throbbing inside her.

I pulled back and pushed myself into her again, grunting when the sensation hit me anew. I made love to her, savoring every second that I was fully inside.

Had either Lia or Emma half-wakened or even stirred in their sleep, the sounds would have been instantly recognizable as sex. Despite both of our attempts to remain quiet, it was unmistakable—her moaning, my grunting, the slapping of my thighs against her bottom, and the sound of tight, wet flesh sliding back and forth.

I watched the place where our bodies connected, seeing the shaft of my penis, shiny with her fluids, rhythmically drive into her just underneath her tiny anus.

My head felt dizzy, and an electric surge of pleasure rushed through me, ushering me to an even higher peak. I plunged deeper and harder, grinding myself into her. Another newer, higher peak, and I uttered a stifled cry.

Mom moaned, high and long. Suddenly, I was ejaculating.

With out bodies mashed together, my penis lurched and contracted inside her. I couldn't move, the feeling was so perfect. I felt the pumping rush of each surge of semen. I felt her vagina squeezing me spasmodically.

She collapsed forward with a sensual moan. Not ever wanting to disconnect from her, I followed. We laid on the steps, me on top of her, recovering. I kissed the back of her neck and massaged one of her breasts.

When, later, I felt my erection begin to soften inside her, I drew it out and slid my boxers over my hips. I waited for her to say something, tell me how horribly I had behaved or tell me how good it was. Something.

Nothing. It was like she was sleeping.

I touched her shoulder. She didn't move. Her eyes were closed.

I rose and pulled her panties on. She didn't react.

I couldn't just leave her there on the stairs; I picked her up and carried her to bed. She snuggled into her pillow as I pulled the sheets over her, and she sighed.

I was exhausted. I went to bed, knowing that I was actually going to fall asleep.

I did.

***

I woke with a start from a dream of Aunt Blair. She was on top of me in the midst of lowering her vagina over my erection. A condescending smirk spread across her face.

I said, "No!" as I sat up.

The light in my room was funny. It was too bright. I glanced at the clock.

1:38pm.

The next sample!

I shot out of bed, left my room, and began going downstairs.

Then, I stopped.

Mom. Last night. Right here.

Was she upset? Was she glad?

I had loved it, every bit. It somehow washed away the sickness I felt from having sex with Aunt Blair. But, not the guilt. No, that was still with me.

I went downstairs into the kitchen.

Where was everybody? I stood still and listened. Nothing.

I figured, then, that I might text Lia, find out where everyone was, and maybe see if she would come home to help me with the next sample.

I looked in the cupboard for the remaining sample jars.

They were gone.

I thought, there should be—what—eight, maybe? Nine? No, it was eight.

I checked the freezer and counted. Each jar was labeled with a date. I counted them, checking dates as I went and...what?

Today's date. There was a jar in there.

I grabbed it and looked. Sure enough, there was semen in there—not as much as usual, but there it was.

I put it back and closed the freezer door.

Mom stood there, glaring at me.

Startled, I said, "Gosh! Mom! Where..."

"I've been here the whole time. The girls are out exchanging a few gifts," she said, and her voice was sharp. "Find today's sample?"

"Uh, yeah. I was going to ask..."

"I managed to salvage some from last night's...event."

I felt my eyes widen. Mom didn't react to this.

She gestured toward the kitchen table and ordered, "Sit down."

I nodded and went to my regular spot. This didn't look good.

Mom sat across from me, more tenderly than usual. I didn't think about this. I was wondering how she fished my semen from the depths of her body.

She said, "I'm very, very sore from last night."

"Sorry, Mom..."

"You," she said, her voice cutting across mine, "mounted me. You mounted me after I told you, several times, never to do that. You ejaculated inside me. Inside me! And a mother with a vagina full of her own baby's semen better do some thinking, and I did."

I swallowed.

"It isn't entirely your fault, what happened. If I'm truthful with myself, I have to admit that—in the moment—I wanted it, too. I could have said something. I could have stopped you—should have, but we both got carried away. It's over now. Actually, everything is over, and I mean everything."

I crinkled my eyebrows.

"Oh, baby, yes. Everything. You have seven cups left, and all seven will be filled by you, alone, with no support from myself or Lia, understood?"

"But..."

"All seven. You. Alone," she flatly declared. "You are expressly forbidden from asking me or Lia for help. Emma, too, if that's what you're thinking. This has to end. It must. The women of this household cannot be your sex partners. The learning is done. You know what to do—last night proved it. This has been so, so wrong. I'm mortified by my behavior. I'm disgusted that you would exploit it the way you have been."

I began to protest.

She didn't let me. "Don't you dare tell me you weren't taking advantage. You were. The more I thought about it, the more I saw how foolish I'd been. You used me. You used your sister. You should be ashamed. You've acted the part of the shy innocent, and all the while you were the sly fox. Well, the hen house is closed. It's over."

She slapped her palm on the table, and then she rose and stalked away with the hint of a waddle in her short strides.

***

Later that afternoon, I found the seven remaining cups in my room on my desk with a note from Mom. "You, alone."

At dinner, the girls knew something was wrong between Mom and I. Every conversation they tried to start fizzled out quickly by our cold silence. Afterwards, I saw Mom whisper something to Lia. A few minutes later, they were both gone—in Mom's room probably. Mom, no doubt, was explaining how things were now.

Emma knelt beside me on the couch. "I saw it."

I looked at her. "Saw what?"

"I saw you fuck Mom on the stairs."

I couldn't speak.

Emma reached under the blanket, and her fingers grasped my penis through my sweatpants. She smiled at me. "It was...."

"Don't," I curtly spat, and I threw the blanket off and went upstairs.

I wasn't sure how to feel about what Emma had said. I knew exactly how I felt about Mom's accusation: furious.

I laid in bed, thinking I'd never be able to sleep, but the next thing I knew, it was nearing three a.m.

I sat up and went to the bathroom. Afterwards, I walked over to Mom's bedroom, and I saw her form, serene and sleeping. I wanted to walk in there and scream at her, rattle the whole house with my voice. I turned away.

I peeked in Lia's room, and there she was, on her side, her curvaceous figure draped in a blanket. I wondered if she hated me now, if she bought into what Mom was selling. I walked back to my room, but leaned in to see Emma first.

There she was, dead asleep, snoring. She was on her back with her head tilted to the side. The blanket was pushed down to her waist. Her shirt rode high, and I saw one of her hands resting on her tummy, beside her bellybutton. The other was up above her head. Under the blanket, her legs were spread wide, knees bent.

I stared at the place where the blanket dipped down between her legs.

I turned around and left, closing the door to my room silently, and then I crept back into Emma's room, closing her door behind me. She didn't quit snoring.

I walked to her bedside, watching her face. Such a cute little face surrounded by a mass of poofy, tight curls. Her red hair seemed black in the darkness of night. Emma wore a tank top, and it did not contain the girth and mass of her young, fulsome chest. I clenched my fists to stop myself from reaching out to cup them.

Looking back toward her groin, I nearly gasped at how completely vulnerable she was. She looked like a woman waiting for her lover.

I leaned over her, bending down close to her body. I looked for an outline of panties or shorts under the blanket. I couldn't tell.

Next, I wanted to see if her nipples were visible under that tight tank top, so I pivoted a little, but something stopped me. A smell.

I was over her belly button, and I leaned closer to it, a few inches away. I whiffed. There it was.

But, the smell wasn't at her navel. I glanced up, a few inches away, to her hand. I leaned closer and sniffed.

Her fingers smelled like sex, like her vagina. I rose, smiling and feeling myself begin to grow hard.

I slid my fingers under the blanket on either side of Emma, and I lifted, peering underneath.

No panties, just a clean, shorn, beautiful little knoll of creamy skin. I folded the blanket over her knees and bent close to smell her sex.

My jaw fell open as I rose up, eyes closed, burning with desire. I felt my heart pound, and my lungs pumped air. My erection stabbed into my boxers, flexing. I reached down and drew it through the hole in the front.

I cautiously slipped the blanket the rest of the way off of her legs, and then I gently climbed into the bed between them. My eyes fixed on her vagina as I inched closer. I stopped where the air around my face was warm and filled with the aroma of her most intimate place.

I kissed the lips, softening my own to feel the texture there. I kissed them again, nuzzling between them, putting her flavor on my mouth. I drew back and tasted my lips. I resisted the urge, just then, to dive in and go absolutely wild on Emma. So, I dragged my tongue over her sex, the whole thing, very delicately.

Then, I listened.

She wasn't snoring anymore. Did she know?

Did I care?

No, actually. I loved Emma's vagina, and I wanted to explore it with my tongue and savor every taste and texture I found.

I opened my mouth and placed it over her labia, and I sucked and licked, sucked and licked. When I released, I flattened my tongue against her and wiggled it until she opened for me, and then I kissed the inside of her. I kissed her clitoris and pinched it against my upper lip with my tongue. And again. And again, because Emma liked it. She moaned, and her fingers buried themselves in my hair, kneading my scalp, and urging me on.

She whispered, "Yes."

I looked up, and she was watching me. Her other hand was under her tank top, and I saw how her fingertips rhythmically caressed what I presumed was her nipple.

Looking into each other's eyes, she asked me, "Do you still like it?"

I kissed it, and rising up, whispered, "Never want to stop, Emma."

"Does my pussy make you hard?"

I rolled to my side, and, taking her foot, brought it to my erection. Emma let out a kind of giggling gasp. I rolled back to my stomach, slid my hands under her bottom, and lifted her to my mouth like a chalice of nectar.

"Oh, shit," she whispered.

I stuck my tongue inside her as far as it would go, and I wiggled it there, searching her with the tip.

"Do that again," she huffed. I did, and she stifled a cry, turning it into a squeak. She used both hands to draw me in still further, and I listened to her airy moan.

She let go of me.

I sensed her legs moving and looked up. She grabbed her ankles and pulled them back toward her ears. Below, her vagina rose and underneath it, her little butthole.

"Lick it. Please. Like you did for Lia. I want to know what it feels like," she whispered shyly.

I placed my hand on the back of her thigh and rubbed her clitoris with my index and middle fingers. Then, I leaned down and kissed Emma's anus, and then I licked it, and then I made out with it—kissing, licking, sucking—coating it with saliva and washing it clean with my tongue while my fingers rubbed circles on her little nub.

"Oh! Oh, no, that's so good. Don't stop."

I didn't, and soon Emma's head was on the mattress, and she'd let go of her ankles and pulled the pillow over her face to muffle her sweet sounds.

I wasn't sure if it was a full orgasm, but I know she liked it.

She lowered herself, letting her legs down, and I drew back. I watched her breasts rise and fall with each panting breath.

I kissed her vagina and dabbed it with my tongue a little, listening to her recover, enjoying the feeling of being between her legs.

Finally, she spoke. "Did you bring one of those jars for your sperm?"

"Emma, we can't. I can't. Mom's really mad at me, and she banned me from getting any help with that."

Emma sat up. "Do you mean...do you mean that what I saw...that's why she was so mad earlier? She's mad at you for fucking her?"

"Emma, come on."

"Oh, don't be a prude. That's what I saw. I saw you fucking her on the stairs."

"Okay, okay. Yes—to answer your question. That's why she's mad."

"No way."

I nodded.

"But, she was into it! Hell, I was into it. It was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen in my life. I fingered myself tonight thinking about it."

"You did?"

"Yes!" Emma stared at me, and then shook her head. "What did she say to you?"

"Said I took advantage. Said she'd thought about it and decided how wrong it was. Then she banned me."

Emma considered this, and then looked at me suspiciously. "Then why did you come here tonight?"

I smiled sheepishly. "Peeked in and you looked beautiful and sexy, and I promised you I would do it for you." I hesitated, and then added, "And I smelled your fingers."

Now, she smiled coyly. "You did?"

I nodded. "How much do you do it?"

"Touch it? Almost every night." She saw my surprise, and clarified. "I...I don't have an orgasm every night, but...I don't know...I do it right before I go to bed, like, nearly every night. It helps me sleep."

I nodded.

She went on. "But, I'll tell you this: I've been getting off a lot more lately...ever since I saw you and Lia, and then after you tasted me, and then after I gave you that blowjob, and now, after I saw you and Mom on the stairs. I've probably had an orgasm almost every night, masturbating, and thinking about those things."

"How much did you see? Of me and Mom, I mean. "

"I woke up and heard something downstairs. Then, I heard Mom come out of her room and go down. I heard your voices, and I was starting to go back to sleep, and then...then I heard her breathing and making sounds. I got up and listened at my door. When she moaned, I looked, and you were behind her, grinding. I watched the rest, and I couldn't believe my eyes. I was so wet and horny."

"It doesn't gross you out?"

"No!" she whisper-screamed, and then, more calmly, explained, "I mean, you'd think it would, but it didn't. I don't know. It was like that watching you and Lia from your closet. If someone said, 'Now you're going to watch your brother eat your sister's pussy and see her give him a blowjob,' I would've said, 'Fuck off, that's sick.' But seeing it happen for myself in real life? It was amazing. It was just...so passionate. It made what I'd been doing with Kevin seem like...I don't know...like monkeys jacking off, by comparison."
I snorted.

Emma asked, "So, what are you going to do?"

"Huh?"

"About your samples."

"Just get it done by myself, I guess. Have to."

"You don't 'have to.'"

"I don't want to disobey Mom."

"But, you just licked my pussy!"

"That's...I told you I would do that," I countered. "Plus, Mom said I wasn't supposed to get any help with the samples. She didn't say anything about...you know...other times." I smiled, knowing how I was ignoring the spirit of Mom's command.

Lia smiled, too. "I hope there are more 'other times.'"

"It felt good?"

She nodded. "Better than I ever imagined, and...," she paused, briefly. "And, I really liked how you sneaked in, like a shadow in the dark or something, to please me. That was a very sexy surprise."

I grinned at her, nodding. I was still between her legs, and I looked at my sister's beautiful little vagina. It was a lot like Lia's, except for the absence of that little red patch of hair. "Hey, Em?"

"Yeah?"

"What does Lia know?"

"I told her what I saw on the stairs. I told her about the blowjob. She knows I saw the two of you from the closet. Yeah. Pretty much everything."

"Oh, no. She pissed?"

Emma shook her head. "I don't know. Why should she be?"

I sighed, staring between Em's thighs. I looked up at her. "I like being between your legs."

She nodded.

"Lay back down."

She did.

This time I used my mouth and my fingers together. My tongue was beginning to grow tired when Emma, clutching a fistful of my hair, moaned airily into her pillow.

When she finally replaced the pillow under her head, she drew me up to her, and we kissed. My erection jabbed into her tummy.

She broke the kiss and urged me onto my back, and then she crawled down the bed between my legs. I stared at her massive breasts, bulging from the tank top, and I knew what I wanted.

"Take off the shirt," I whispered.

She slipped out of it.

I nodded, and Emma leaned down to take my penis into her mouth. I stopped her. She looked up at me. Her hands were firmly planted just outside my hips, and her breasts hung down.

I reached out and held them, caressed them, and then drew the two hefty orbs together. I raised my hips and pushed my penis through the hanging cleavage. The skin was warm and downy soft. I controlled the friction, and I didn't need much. I slid through easily, like polished wood between the cushions of a couch. I groaned.

Emma grinned at me. I did it again. She looked down to see my penis emerge from between her breasts. When it did, she craned her neck further, and the head of my erection was bathed in her saliva.

Every time I thrusted, Emma's mouth was there, waiting and ready to admit my penis and give it a slow, wet kiss.

I didn't need to speed up or squeeze her breasts harder. In fact, the only change I made was to my grip: I wanted to feel her nipples on the pads of my thumbs.

I said her name softly and achingly. She moaned.

On the final thrust, I told her I was ready and held my hips high. I let Emma's mouth engulf the tip while my erection pulsed on her tongue, coating it. I grunted, and when I heard her swallow, my legs gave way and sank down to the bed. Emma followed, her wild head of hair covered my belly.

She uttered, "That was nice."

I hummed my assent.

It was well after three a.m. when I knew she had fallen asleep. I slid out of bed, made sure Emma was covered, and silently returned to my bed.

***

Mom woke me at 9:00am, ripping open the blinds and blasting me with sunlight. I watched her check the seven cups, relieved that I had not attempted to fill one of them during the night's joys with Emma. I listened to Mom tell me she would check the freezer at 11, and that there'd better be 14 samples in there when she did. She'd sent Lia and Emma on an errand, I was informed. Finally, she instructed me to get a good, clean sample.

She waited for some acknowledgment at my door.

I said, "Don't like how you said I used you and Lia. It was never that way. I wasn't trying to trick you or something, like you said. I love you, Mom. Lia, too."

She stared at me for a few moments, and then, ignoring my words, demanded, "Do you understand what I've just explained for you to do or not?"

"You know me better than that, Mom. I wouldn't ever hurt you or the girls."

She waited.

"Okay. Yes. Fine. I know what I'm supposed to do."

She closed the door and left.

I called a couple friends and then took a quick shower. After I got dressed, I grabbed some things and walked down the stairs. I hesitated about a third of the way down, remembering the spot and realizing, then, that it was a part of the house that I would never forget. It was a place I would pass by every time I was home, and the place would always jar a memory. And it would always be like that, I guessed, for Mom, too.

I grabbed my coat and walked out the front door. I heard Mom call my name, alarmed, just before the door closed behind me.

Yeah, I knew what I was supposed to do.

But, I wasn't going to do it.

Twenty Cups Ch. 04

Will Mom and Sisters continue to help?

I walked about two blocks before a friend picked me up and took me to his house. I had to put my phone on vibrate in his car because Mom wouldn't stop calling.

A few minutes later, I switched it to "silence all." She was relentless.

The texting began about the time we got to my friend's house.

"You need to get that?" he finally asked.

I shook my head.

We played games in his basement for a while. When he went to grab some snacks, I checked my phone. It was after 11am, and Mom had called me nine times. There were seven text messages from her, too. I didn't read them.

But, I did see a text that came from Lia just a few minutes before. I read it.

"Text me," she sent.

I responded, "?"

"Take my call?"

"OK"

She called a few seconds later. After I answered, she said, "Let me swing by and pick you up so we can talk, okay?"

I hesitated.

She reassured me. "Just for a few minutes, and then I'll drive you back there."

"Alright. How soon?"

"Where are you?"

I told her.

"Be there in five."

I explained how it was to my friend, and he was definitely confused, but he didn't pry.

Lia showed up in her old blue SUV. Emma was riding shotgun. I got in the back.

I said, "Hey, Em."

"Hey."

Turning to Lia, I said, "Don't know what Mom told you, Lia, but I would never take advantage of you. I would never trick you or anything like that. I love you. Both of you."

"I know," she said.

"You didn't believe her?"

She glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "Well, I may have wondered about it for a few seconds, but the more I thought about it, the more I knew she was wrong."

I sighed. "Thanks, Lia." I saw her make a turn. "Where are we going?"

"Home, if that's okay with you," she said.

"Wha...no! That's not okay. I don't want to see Mom. Turn back!"

"Easy, now," Emma interjected, "Mom's not home. She went to the office."

"Oh," I said, relaxing. "Why home?"

Emma and Lia glanced at one another, and then Emma said, "We told Mom we would try to make sure you got your next sample."

"No," I spat. "No way. I'm done with her samples."

"Please, will you?" Lia asked.

"No."

Em asked, "But, will you at least listen to us?"

I sighed. "Okay, what?"

Lia started. "You still have seven containers to fill to get to twenty, and..."

I stopped her there. "All they need is ten to do the test. Twenty was because the doctor's gone. We have enough."

"But Mom has paid for twenty, and lab work is really expensive."

"She can get a refund."

"She can't, actually."

"What?"

"I asked her. She can't."

"Oh, well. So, the money's already spent. They'll get thirteen. Three more than ten, right?"

"Two things. One, Mom says with ten, the accuracy is like 95%, but with twenty it's closer to 99%. She wants 99%. Two, you know how tight things are with all three of us in college. We can't be throwing away money like that. You know we can't."

I sighed.

Emma spoke up. "Plus, Mom is freaking out. Freaking out. She's like...super angry and..."

"Scared," Lia finished for her.

"Yeah. She's scared," Emma agreed as if realizing it for the first time.

"Scared? Why?" I asked.

My sisters were both silent for a moment, and then Lia spoke while she drove. "You guys probably don't remember it, but seeing her and hearing her on the phone before we came to pick you up? It reminded me of how she was...I don't know...how she was after Dad left us."

Em and I met this with silence.

Lia said, "She's angry and terrified."

I asked, "But, why? I get the anger. I don't get the terrified."

No one spoke for several long seconds, and Lia finally said, "I don't know."

Emma broke the next silence by asking me, flatly, "So, will you? It might make Mom feel better."

Trying to smile, I asked, "One of you going to help me?"

They both said, "No," almost simultaneously.

"Why not?"

"Mom," Emma answered.

"Mom," Lia agreed.

I sighed. "Okay."

Emma turned to Lia and said, "See? I told you. He's a good boy."

Lia nodded, slowed down, and made a turn.

Emma looked over her shoulder at me and smiled brightly.

We were headed home.

***

Inside the house, before walking into my bedroom, I asked the girls, "What are you two going to do?"

"Wait for you to finish," Emma answered.

Lia added, "When you're done, we'll take you back to your friend's house, so hurry up."

I nodded and trudged into my room. I could hear the muffled sounds of them chatting next door in Lia's room.

I stripped down to my boxers and grabbed the sample cup. Climbing into bed, I couldn't help but think about Mom.

She was mad.

She was mad? Mom? No, I was the one who should be angry.

But, I really wasn't. Not anymore.

I just felt bad for her. She was scared. I didn't understand why, but that didn't make me any less sad for her. I hated to think of her that way—as scared. I wondered what it had been like for her when Dad left us. I wondered what seven year-old Lia had seen in her Mother during those days and weeks after.

Because I was pretty sure I'd never once seen Mom terrified.

Angry? Yes, I'd seen it, plenty. Scared? No.

I lifted the waistband of my boxers and looked at my penis. There was no way I was going to get an erection.

I needed a distraction.

After I knocked, Emma came, opened the door, and said, "No way you're done."

"Not. Didn't even start."

Lia sat on the side of Emma's bed. She said, "We're not leaving until you're done."

"Yeah, hurry up," Emma added.

"I can't."

Emma glanced down and saw the sample container in my hand. "We're not going to touch you, if that's what you're thinking. We promised Mom."

Lia asked, "Why can't you do it?"

I raised my palm as a gesture to see if I could enter.

Emma opened the door fully, and I walked in. She sat beside Lia on the bed; I went over and flopped into the chair by Emma's desk.

I said, "Can't stop thinking about poor Mom—being scared and all."

"Get the tablet. Watch your ass videos," Emma suggested.

I waved off her recommendation. "Not distracting enough."

Lia asked, "Can't you masturbate it to get an erection? Doesn't that work?"

"Not when I'm worried about Mom," I replied.

No one spoke for a time, and then I saw Emma, eyeing me strangely as if she were looking right through me, thinking.

"If I can call her and tell her we have your next sample, then she's going to feel better. You'll make her happy," Lia declared.

I shrugged, staring at the floor. Several seconds elapsed.

"Emma," Lia began, "what are you...?"

When I glanced up, Emma was tossing her light blue sweater on the floor. She turned to Lia. "I'm just getting him in the mood." She reached behind her back.

"But..."

"I'm not going to touch him, Lia." When her hands came back around to her front, it was clear that her bra was unlatched.

I saw Lia turn to me, but I was watching Em, eyes glued.

"Come on, Lia. You, too. Show him your tits." Emma slid her bra off. It fell to the floor beside the bed. She cupped her own breasts and squeezed them.

My boxers scrunched in the wrong place. I adjusted myself.

Emma saw and said, "See? I think it's working. Come on."

Lia glanced at me, and I nodded.

She was wearing a hoodie that zipped in the front. Her hand slid up her chest, her fingers found the zipper, and they slid it down.

Emma watched her.

When the hoodie came off, Lia crossed her arms and slipped her tee-shirt over her head. As it fell to the floor, Emma leaned to the side, behind Lia, and unlatched the bra for her.

Lia glanced at Em, surprised, but let it happen.

Her bra fell to the floor. I took in the view of my sisters, side by side, with their heavy breasts unveiled. I gulped. "You two are so incredibly beautiful."

Lia's eyes were on my body. Emma's were on Lia's.

Emma almost whispered when she spoke, "Look at your tits, Lia. Holy shit!"

Lia glanced down at herself, and then at Emma. "Look at yours."

Emma did, and she said, "Yeah, but yours are bigger."

"Yours are...perkier," Lia responded, and they laughed.

"Not by much. Care if I feel yours for a second?" Emma asked her.

Lia shot a quick glance at me and then pivoted on the bed toward Emma, arms at her side, chest erect and forward.

Emma reached out with both hands and caressed Lia's breasts. She cupped them, and then she squeezed them. "Shit, they're big."

Lia drew her hand up and felt one of Emma's breasts. "Yours may be a little bit smaller," she uttered, "but they're a bit more firm, too. They're nice." Lia's thumb slid across Emma's nipple.

"Your nipples are the same," I offered.

Their hands slipped away from each other, and Lia and Emma assessed one another's nipples.

Emma said, "They kind of are."

"Yeah."

Emma's palms skimmed over Lia's nipples before gently pinching them. Then, she drew the tips of her fingers together over the nipple, stroking it.

Lia seized Emma's hand.

"What?"

"Starting to feel good," Lia said with a laugh. Emma joined her.

"Can I suck on your nipples?" I asked the both of them.

"No," they declared, practically together.

Emma glanced at my crotch, seeing my erection crowding against the inside of my boxers. Gesturing to Lia, the two of them eyed my groin before Emma suggested, "Let's show him our asses. He's a butt guy."

Lia said, "Wait." Then she turned to me. "Take off your boxers."

I stood and dropped them. My erection was incomplete, but well on its way. I sat back down and watched them stand, turn around, and strip their pants and panties off. I felt my chest undulate. I breathed silently. I swallowed and stared.

Lia was looking at Emma. "You shave all of it?"

"Yeah, sure...wait. Oh, my gosh! You've got a little red afro!" Emma pointed at Lia's crotch, and the two burst into laughter.

"So?" Lia asked, still chuckling. "It would feel strange to shave it all, like I was still a little girl."

"I love mine. Feel it."

For a fraction of a second, Lia hesitated. Then I watched her slide her fingers over Emma's little mound. She whispered, "Weird." She drew back her hand.

"Let me feel yours," Emma suggested.

Lia turned, presenting herself.

Emma's fingers curled into the bright red hairs of Lia's crotch. She muttered, "Old school bush," and the two of them lost it. I was chuckling, too.

"Let me see your butt," Emma said.

Lia turned her back to me.

Emma stepped around her, placing her hands on Lia's bottom. She kneaded and clutched it. "You like it when he licks your asshole?" she asked.

"Yeah," Lia replied, giggling. "It's sexy. You?"

"I already told you: he gave me an orgasm doing it. Well, that and rubbing my clit."

Lia turned. "Remember when I told you about our last time? When he fingered my bottom and then masturbated into the cup?"

"Mm-hmm. What about it?"

"Well, what I didn't tell you was that he...well, before he ejaculated, I let him put his penis in my bottom."

Emma's face fell open. She stared at Lia. "You two had anal sex?"

Lia nodded, smiling, before clarifying. "He just put the tip in, and it was only for a few seconds."

"Oh, my gosh, didn't it hurt?"

Lia shrugged. "A little."

Emma shook her head, and then said, "Let me see this." She knelt behind Lia and reached for her bottom.

Lia flinched. "Wait! What are you doing, Emma?"

"Just want to see. Let me look. What are you, prude? We're naked, Lia."

Lia relented.

Emma spread Lia's bottom apart, and scrutinized her little hole. "You fit his cock in there?"

"Not all of it, but some. Yes."

"Oh, shit," Emma huffed. Then, I saw her glance down at Lia's vagina. "Lia, you're wet."

Lia spun around, giggling. "So? I can't help it! There are soft hands touching my body."

Emma shook her finger at Lia. "Naughty."

"Okay, your turn and we'll see how you handle it. Stand up. Come on."

The two switched places. Lia caressed Emma's bottom.

"Why do you suppose he likes our asses so much?" Emma wondered.

The way they ignored me reminded me of the many times at the kitchen table where I, present and eating silently, was the topic of a conversation taking place in the third person—he, him, his.

Lia said, "I don't know. Maybe our bottoms are kind of cute."

"Dare you to kiss my ass."

Lia smiled. Emma craned her neck around, watching. Lia pursed her lips and planted a kiss on Em's round bottom. Then, she did it again. And again. When she drew away, Lia looked and then reached under Emma's bottom.

Emma flinched.

Triumphantly, Lia announced, "Wet!"

"Shit. I am."

Lia stood. "I dare you. Same thing."

Emma smiled. They traded places.

First caressing Lia's hips, Emma leaned forward and kissed Lia's butt once. Then, she kissed Lia right in the middle, on the dark line where the two bulbous halves met. Lia twitched.

They giggled for a moment.

"Oh, shit. Look, Lia."

Emma was looking at me. Lia turned, and her eyes flashed wide.

They stared at my penis. It knifed up from my body, stretching past my navel. I was sure I hadn't seen it harder or longer. Or thicker. My balls felt warm and were hanging low, and this probably added to the apparent length of my erection from Lia and Emma's perspective.

"Look at how hard we made him," Lia breathed. "Oh, that is so incredibly sexy."

Emma nodded silently.

Lia spun around toward me.

Emma glanced up at my face. "What did you like?"

"Everything."

"No. Tell us. Come on," she insisted.

I shrugged. "Don't know. You two are just...you're so beautiful. Any man would be like this," I said, glancing down at my erection. "Any of them. Don't you know what you do to men? I'd do anything to touch you right now."

"Are you saying that just to make us feel good?" Lia asked.

"No! Saying it because you're both incredibly sexy."

Lia's body visibly sighed, as if my words whisked away some pent-up insecurity.

Emma walked to me on her knees. "Lia, come here. Look at it."

Lia came over and knelt beside Emma. Their eyes glued to my erection.

Lia said, "Em, we're not supposed to..."

Emma spoke over her. "Look at it."

"I know."

"Our bodies did this to him."

"I know."

I spoke. "Not just bodies, Em. Beautiful faces."

She looked up at me and smiled. Lia, too.

When Emma's gaze returned to my penis, she uttered, "Doesn't it just look like it needs to be sucked?"

"Em!" Lia murmured.

"Look at it and answer me, Lia. I'm not talking about him. I'm talking about it. Does it look like it needs to be sucked?"

They looked into each other's eyes, and then Lia studied my erection for a moment. She said, "Yes."

"It does, doesn't it?" Emma asked.

Lia nodded.

"Why do I have this urge to put my mouth on it? Do you feel it, too?"

Lia nodded.

"Why does it do that to us?" Emma wondered, still gazing at my penis.

"I...," Lia cleared her throat. "I don't know."

"Remember how wet I was before?" Emma asked.

"Mm-hmm."

"Feel it now."

Lia reached behind and under Emma. She gasped.

"You?" Emma asked.

Lia nodded.

"Let me feel."

Emma slid her hand between Lia's thighs. I saw her fingers emerge, glistening. "Oh, shit."

They looked at each other, and then they turned to me.

Emma uttered, "I don't care what Mom says. Let me taste it."

Lia hesitated.

"Just a little bit. Please, Lia?"

Lia nodded.

Emma's eyes burned as she rose high on her knees, presenting her bare breasts to me for a moment. She inched closer on her knees. I watched her hand clasp my penis and draw it toward her. Then, she bent to it, extending her tongue. She licked the underside and bent over the tip, taking it between her lips.

I closed my eyes and drew in a sharp breath when I felt the wet warmth. When I opened them again, Lia was bent closer, watching Emma. Lia's hand gently rubbed Emma's back.

Emma rose away, turned to Lia and gasped, "Fuck, it tastes good."

"Let me."

Grinning, Emma bent my erection towards Lia, who scooted closer and opened her mouth wide.

I grunted when I felt her lips encircle the shaft.

She drew away with a smack.

Emma asked, "What does it taste like to you?"

"Hard sex."

"Yes!" Emma said, and she leaned toward me and sampled my penis again. When she drew back, she said, "Muscles and hot sweat."

Lia took my erection from Emma's hand. She dipped over it, sliding her lips over the shaft a few times before pulling away. After a few moments of silence, Emma watching her intently, Lia declared, "Power. It tastes like power."

Emma's eyes widened. "Yeah, I know! Power! That's it!"

A heavy silence followed until Lia asked, "What do you want to do?"

"Same thing you do, I suppose. Suck it until he cums." Emma turned to me. "What does he want?" She looked up at me. "What do you want?"

They both waited for my response. "Don't care who does it," I said, "as long as the other one kisses and touches the one who's doing it."

"Kisses and touches how?" Lia asked.

"Like before," I responded. "Nothing more than that."

The girls looked at each other. Emma said, "You do it, Lia. You suck it."

"Can I?"

"Yes. So long as I can do it next time, okay?"

Lia nodded.

Emma backed out from between my legs, letting Lia in.

Lia glanced up at me. I mouthed, "Love you."

Her lips curled into a grin, and her eyes shined with joy. Moments later, my penis was awash with her saliva. I ran my fingers through the mass of her bright red hair, gently kneading her scalp as her head undulated in my lap.

Emma watched from the side. "Oh, shit that's sexy."

When Emma glanced at me, I huffed, "Touch her."

Emma approached Lia from the side. She ran a hand along Lia's back, over her bottom and down the back of her thigh. Then, she brought her hand back and reached under Lia's chest. I couldn't see, but I knew: she was feeling one of Lia's breasts. She looked at me for approval.

"Kiss her body," I said.

Emma drew near Lia's shoulder and kissed it. She moved down Lia's back, kissing—shoulder blade, lat, waist, and, finally, the small of her back.

I listened to the sloshing wetness of Lia's blowjob, feeling runs of sticky saliva course down my testicles.

Emma looked at me again.

I uttered, "Her bottom. Kiss her bottom."

Emma crawled around behind Lia. She nudged Lia's leg, and Lia spread her knees. Emma crawled between. I looked down Lia's hair along the supple crevice of her back to her butt, and Emma's face was there, watching me.

I watched Emma plant soft kisses on each of Lia's plump cheeks. I groaned at the sight. Lia, her mouth full of saliva and penis, hummed.

Encouraged, it seemed to me, Emma leaned closer and kissed Lia's bottom just in the middle. And again. One of Emma's hands came into view, and it swept over Lia's bottom. Then her hands clasped the skin firmly. Emma was no longer watching my reaction; her eyes seemed fixed on her sister's beautiful bottom. She opened her mouth and latched onto one of Lia's cheeks. I saw the movements of her tongue against her cheek, sucking.

Lia moaned into my erection.

Emma's eyes appeared to smile, and she unlatched, opening wide. Her head vanished from view. When it reappeared, she was dragging her tongue over that same globe, bottom to top.

Lia moaned again, and she arched her back. Her lower back dipped down. Her butt coiled up, presenting itself completely to Emma. The curvature and the cat-like aspect of her new position sent waves of excitement through me, and I groaned at the sight.

Emma placed her hands on Lia's bottom. She held her, drew close and looked. I could only see Emma's eyes, and it seemed to me she was gazing at Lia's vagina. Then, she glanced up at me.

I nodded, and Emma's face slowly descended from my view.

A beat passed. Then, Lia's lips broke their seal around my erection. She gasped and drew off.
"Emma, you shouldn't."

But, Emma's face didn't reappear. Something happened back there, again.

"Oh!" Lia cried. "Oh, Em, you mustn't." The conviction in her voice faded with the last word.

A moment later, Lia's astonished expression melted into slow rapture. Her next utterance was a long, high moan of exquisite satisfaction. She leaned her face into my penis and stretched her lips at the shaft to kiss it, but before she could, she pinched her eyes shut and moaned again. She laid the side of her head on my thigh, letting her lips rest on my erection and, every so often, dabbing the jutting shaft with her tongue.

I caressed her hair, alternately watching her face and her bottom. Only the top of Emma's head and her frizzy curls peaked up from behind. Em's face was low and deep. The little movements of her head told me Emma was toiling away, energized.

Lia began to hold her breath, letting it out of her gaping mouth in high-pitched gasps. When she opened her eyes, she started panting. Her eyes were locked on my penis. I felt the puffs of air whisk across it. Then, Lia and I made eye contact. She seemed to be struggling for life, enduring a pleasure so intense that it was a kind of agony.

Lia's arms wrapped around my waist and clenched me. Her eyes snapped shut. She cried out. Her body began to writhe, and I saw Emma's hands vanish from Lia's bottom. They reappeared, wrapped around Lia's thighs, gripping firmly.

Lia's orgasm unleashed. She wailed without inhibition.

Emma never stopped, not until it was over.

As Lia's cries diminished into airy sighs, I looked down at her face. Her eyes were closed. It was the line of her jaw that arrested me. She wheezed—so softly—and the gentle slope of her jaw, under her cheek, looked so perfectly feminine at that moment. I thought she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

Emma's face reappeared, and she licked Lia's bottom, sliding her tongue over each cheek, kissing here, there.

It awakened Lia. She opened her eyes, and my penis was still there, still hard. Pushing herself up, she licked her lips, took a breath, and lowered her head over it.

Emma looked at me with a grin.

I muttered, "Her anus, Em."

She glanced down, right into Lia's exposed spot, and back to me. There was a moment. Then, Emma's face sank between the two spheres of Lia's bottom.

I knew she'd done it when Lia moaned into my penis.

The surge of excitement, as I saw Emma's face dip and heard Lia moan, rocked me. From being reasonably excited, my penis soared toward imminent orgasm. I clutched for the cup on the desk beside me.

"Lia! Oh, my gosh!" I grunted. "Oh, that feels so amazing."

I glanced at Emma.

She winked at me, stuck out her tongue, and dipped towards Lia's anus.

"Lia!"

The orgasm felt like a series of small explosions. Each pulse was a sharp peak of pleasure.

Lia's lips held tight, and she reacted to the barrages of semen loosing into her mouth with a long, low hum.

"More," I grunted.

Lia moaned into my erection. The squeezing contractions fired recklessly in her mouth.

"More, Lia."

My penis throbbed a few more times, and I let out the huge breath I'd been holding. I sank back into the chair.

Lia's palm appeared by my waist, her fingers curled inwards twice: give me it.

I put the cup in her hand.

Emma crawled up beside me, and we watched Lia let my sperm slide through her lips, filling the cup.

Lia screwed the lid on and set it on the desk. She collapsed in my lap, my slowly deflating erection sagging down on her face.

Em edged closer and laid beside Lia in my lap, facing her. She whispered, "Did you like it?"

Lia nodded.

Emma smiled, and then she drew my penis from Lia's cheek and brought it to her mouth. She sucked on it softly, not trying to start anything new, but more as if she just liked having it in her mouth.

Rubbing her back, I asked, "Em, want me to do you?"

She pulled my penis out of her mouth and said, "Another time. I just want to rest a bit." Then, she put it back in her mouth and sucked gently.

***

While I dated and placed the 14th sample in the freezer, Lia called Mom and told her that she and Emma had been successful—they convinced me to fill the day's cup. The deed was done; she could relax now.

I caught the end of their conversation as I walked up the stairs and into Emma's room.

"Mom, why are you asking all of these questions? We have the sample; that's all that matters...what?...No, Mom, Emma did not help him ejaculate...I don't know! Ask her!"

I glanced at Emma.

She shook her head: Mom was being Mom.

Lia continued. "I'm not answering that question...No, that's not why. I'm not answering because you need to quit worrying about us. The sample's in the freezer and...Oh, my gosh, Mom!" Lia quit speaking for a moment, and then her voice rang out. "Yes, okay? Yes! I did help him. I sucked on his penis. I sucked my brother's penis, and I liked it. I loved it. Is that what you want to hear? ...You're such a hypocrite! You like doing it, too. Don't even say you don't...Bye, Mom. I'm hanging up, now. Bye."

Lia snapped the phone down and pressed the end call button. She glanced at Emma and I. Shrugging her shoulders, she said, "I can't lie to her. I just can't. Sorry."

I walked over and kissed her cheek.

She looked up at me and asked, "Do you have any condoms?"

I shook my head. No.

"Then, I'm going to buy some tonight."

***

The house was deadly silent when Mom came home. She didn't speak to anyone. She didn't say a word as she prepared dinner. When I set the table, she didn't even look at me. When Emma served, nothing. We sat and ate in silence.

Halfway through our chicken-broccoli soup, Mom turned to me and said, "I had an email exchange with Blair this afternoon."

My spoon paused briefly on its way to my mouth. I felt the girls looking at me.

"It seems," Mom continued, "you haven't told us everything about Christmas morning."

I swallowed the spoonful, and as casually as I could, asked, "What about it?"

"She had a lot to say."

"What'd she say?"

Mom sighed. "Oh, young man, what she says doesn't really matter now." She brought her napkin up and dabbed her lips. She set it back down and said, "What really matters now is what you say. So talk. I think you owe us that."

My sisters were frozen, staring at me, waiting.

My head suddenly grew hot. My heart thumped away. My chest felt hollow. My stomach filled with fear.

Blair had told me she wouldn't say anything. Why had she told? How did Mom get her to admit it? Was it guilt?

Did Mom really know?

I scanned her face. It was a mask of confidence. Would she look that way if she knew the truth? I didn't know.

There was no more time to think. Every elapsed second worked against me.

"I'm sorry, Mom. Didn't mean to do it. Just happened. I hated myself for it after."

I glanced at Lia and Emma, and they looked alarmed and confused. I looked at Mom. The confidence was gone. I couldn't quite read her. Was it shock? Fear?

Did she ever really know? Had this a been a trap?

"Tell us," she uttered, and her voice trembled.

I scanned the table for an ally or a look of compassion. None.

"I...I had sex with her, but..."

Mom shot up out of her chair. Stepping toward me, her hand whipped across my face once, twice, three times in machine gun succession. She stepped back and her face grew so red it was almost purple. Visibly trembling, she stared at me and shook her head. Then, she screamed at the ceiling, an agonized, mournful howl. Turning, she left the room in silence. I heard her footfalls on the stairs. I heard her bedroom door slam shut.

The moment I turned to Emma, her hot soup splashed into my face. She left, following Mom.

Lia remained. Her eyes were red and glassy. "Mom was right all along. You tricked us. You lied." She wiped her eyes quickly, sniffed, and said, firmly, "You lied to me." Saying those words seemed like they almost made the whole thing real for her. She burst into sobs and, covering her face, followed Mom and Emma.

I sat alone at the table, covered in chicken broccoli soup.

Lia would not be purchasing any condoms that night, I supposed.

***

I cleaned up the kitchen, thinking.

It didn't seem like Mom had really known. Blair, I thought, had to have told her something else.

Or it had been a trap?

Mom had known something strange had taken place that morning. She just didn't know what. So, did she pretend to know in order to get me to talk?

That seemed the most likely answer.

Dang it.

I deserved their anger. I really did.

But, I also thought, I really didn't. I just never got the chance to explain everything before Mom exploded on me.

To me, the only tricking I had done was when I shut off the wifi that morning before Mom helped me. The other stuff? The questions I'd asked? The times I'd said I wanted to learn when, what I really wanted, even more than learning, was the sex?

Those weren't lies. I did want to learn. I did want answers. I just also wanted sex.

Was that tricking? Was that lying?

And, Blair. Damn it. I needed to explain to the girls what had happened. Maybe they would understand if they knew how it all went down that morning.

Or, maybe they didn't care anymore.

***

Over the next two days, I filled the cups in my room, alone. I wasn't in the mood. I didn't want to, but I also didn't want to upset anyone, especially Mom, more than I already had.

Nobody spoke to me for those two days; I had a lot of time to think. When I wasn't thinking, I spent most of my time out with friends, trying to forget.

But, by the end of that second day, my shame was maturing into resentment.

I needed information. I needed the backstory, and I didn't care how mad Mom was anymore. It didn't matter that she was sound asleep and that it was after 1:00am. I went into her room and closed the door behind me.

I shook her awake, but gently.

"What is it, baby?" she muttered upon waking and seeing me. Her voice was without the hard edge. In it, I could sense that I had not been forgiven, but that, perhaps, she was too tired to fight with me just then.

"Sorry to wake you. No emergency. I can't sleep because I need to know what happened with Dad, with my father."

My words awakened her, and she sat up in bed. When I instinctively glanced at her breasts, bulging from her white silk nighty, she drew the comforter up and over them.

"Why are you asking me this?"

"Everything that's happened. There's a connection, and I know it. I need to know what it is."

She didn't speak.

"Mom. Please."

She cleared her throat, adjusted her pillow and laid down on her side, back to me.

I guessed the conversation was over and made to leave.

"He had an affair when I was pregnant with Lia," Mom started. "Confessed it to me after she was born. Promised it would never happen again. I forgave him, and I told him I didn't want to know who the woman was. Things were good between us after."

I listened, feeling anger surge inside me.

She continued. "Then came Emma and you, almost back-to-back. Those were tough years for us. I think he was overwhelmed—he didn't have any job security at the time, and he had a toddler and a pregnant wife. Then, a year later, he had an infant, a toddler, and a pregnant wife. I knew I was losing him; I just refused to admit it."

She sighed.

"But, once you were born and when we found out about your HFI, he was a new man, your father. He devoted himself to us, and you, especially. I told myself I had been wrong, forgot about my doubts."

Mom remained silent for several long moments.

"Blair came to see me when you were about four. She had been living here back then, in town. She was finishing med school. She was crying, and she told me that she'd been having an on and off affair with your father for years, mainly during my pregnancies. Your father knew Blair was going to tell me, and he never came back. I never saw or heard from him again."

She started crying.

"He couldn't handle failing me twice, I think." Mom sniffed and wiped her nose. "I would have forgiven him. I may not have loved him like when we first married after that, but I would have let him continue to be a father to the three of you. I would have tried to be his wife."

She sighed again, and then she rolled over, facing me. She wiped her eyes and cleared her throat.

"I forgave Blair. I was upset, of course, but I understood. Blair always had soft-heart for desperate men. She couldn't get enough of them. Your father was charming and handsome, made us laugh. I didn't make myself available to him, sexually, during and after my pregnancies. Some women can't get enough when they're pregnant. I wasn't like that. And Blair, well, she just loved sex and men." Mom paused, staring past me at the big mirror in her vanity area. "I think as she got older, it became less about her love for them and more about her love for being loved. She lost her sweetness, I think."

I nodded.

She looked at me. "That enough?"

I nodded.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you until now. It must have been difficult. I should explain it to your sisters."

"Mom, can we have a family dinner tomorrow?"

She stared at me, confused.

"I'll make something for us. I need to say something to you all."

She nodded, saying, "Go get some sleep." Then, she rolled over, putting her back to me as I left.

***

For the third day in a row, I provided my sperm sample with no assistance, and I knew that the final three cups were going to be filled the same way.

I didn't care anymore.

All I wanted was to have my family not hate me. So, I set up this dinner with the intent of making amends and giving myself the opportunity to explain what had happened between Aunt Blair and me.

I called a college buddy of mine who liked to cook and had him send me his Mom's recipe for ribs, something he bragged about incessantly back at school.

A buddy of mine took me to the grocery store, and I picked up everything I would need.

I put two foil-wrapped half-racks of ribs in the oven at four in the afternoon. By five, the kitchen was smelling really, really good. By 6;30, when I took them out, I knew they were perfect.

I served ribs, bacon-onion green beans, and cornbread.

"Thanks for being here. Wanted to apologize for what I did. Wanted to explain what happened on Christmas morning. When everyone's done eating, I'll begin."

They ate, and I know they loved it. All the ribs disappeared. No one said anything nice, though.

After I cleared the table I sat down and began.

I started with Blair's examination. I explained how angry I was that I had to let my aunt examine my penis and testicles. I told them what she did; I mentioned all the questions that she asked me, including about my virginity. Then, I told them how she said she needed to examine my penis while it was erect.

"I told her no," I said. "And she kind of laughed me off. She was standing next to me, and she started touching my testicles. I asked what she was doing, and she said she was giving me an erection."

Mom stared at me, frozen. "You told her no and she did it anyway?"

I nodded. "But, I didn't struggle with her, Mom. I should have."

I told everyone how her voice became soft, and how she wanted to know how I felt about different sex acts. I told them how Blair seemed surprised that I was a virgin.

"Wait. She asked you twice about being a virgin?" Lia interrupted.

I nodded.

I admitted how I grew aroused and very hard from her touches. I mentioned that Blair unbuttoned her blouse to show more cleavage. I described the various things Blair did to examine my penis—the stethoscope and the blood pressure cuff.

Mom raised her hand to stop me. "Blair took a blood pressure reading on your penis?"

I nodded.

"She inflated it?"

I nodded.

Mom shook her head in apparent astonishment.

I continued, owning up to the fact that I told Blair to suck on it, and how she began to kiss it.

They stared at me, listening.

I told the girls what Blair said about never sucking off a virgin and how she basically ordered me to lick her vagina. Finally, I told them about the sex. I explained how, just before I penetrated her, I stopped, knowing how much it would upset my Mother and sisters.

I said, "I don't know if I would have stopped completely. I really don't, but it didn't matter because the next thing she did was wrap her legs around me and pull me inside her. At that point, I just couldn't have stopped."

I finished by telling them how she finished me with her hand into the cup and left.

I did not mention what she said about me and my father.

"Know it doesn't change what happened. Know I still let you all down. And I know saying sorry isn't enough. I just couldn't leave you without explaining how it happened."

I looked at each of them in turn, and I began to think that, maybe, I had made some progress. They weren't looking at me like I was a toilet stain anymore.

Still, no of them spoke.

I continued. "I have my follow up appointment in four days, and I'm going to stick around and finish what I have to do, but I just wanted you all to know that, when that's done, I'm heading back to school. The dorms reopen that day, and I can hitch a ride with a buddy who's driving through town on his way that afternoon."

Mom's eyes widened. Lia's grew glassy. Emma's head sank to her chest.

"I figure I can find a place down there for the summer, get a job. I know some guys who have an apartment, and they'll let me crash."

Mom drew back from the table, whispering, "You're leaving us?"

I nodded. "I've lost your trust. And I just don't know," I said, "that I can trust myself around the three of you anymore. You're all too kind, too amazing, too beautiful. I can't be here. I shouldn't."

Mom started weeping. Lia and Emma glanced at each other.

I said what I needed to, so I got up and went to do the dishes.

Mom about ran from the table, and I heard her sobs as she went upstairs.

Lia came over and hugged me. Emma sat at the table, apparently dejected. I continued washing, muttering, "I'll miss you, and I'm sorry."

Lia walked over to Emma and put her hand on Emma's shoulder. I overheard her ask Emma to come and check on Mom. They left.

When all was cleaned up, I grabbed my big blanket and laid on the couch. No one came downstairs for a very long time.

It was after 8:30pm when Lia finally came into the family room.

She sighed and said, "Mom's a wreck. Emma's staying up there with her until she falls asleep."

I nodded.

"It's like before, like when Dad left us. That's how she is again."

I nodded.

I felt her eyes studying me. Finally, she said, "I don't like it that you slept with Aunt Blair."

I nodded.

"But," she went on, "I believe what you said. She lured you into it. She tricked you."

"Thanks for believing me," I muttered.

"I'm sorry I got so upset. You're still our fuzzy boy, and I love you."

"Thanks, Lia. Love you, too."

She walked over and kissed me on the head. I turned toward her, and she kissed my lips. "I'm going to check on Mom, again."

A minute later, Emma came down. She sat on the floor beside the couch, face towards the television, and said, "Thanks for telling us what really happened."

I nodded.

"I hate that bitch Blair."

"Me, too," I said.

"I can't believe she seduced you."

I nodded.

"And the way she did it! It was like she was preying on you or something."

"How I felt about it, too, after."

She turned to me. "Forgive me for doubting you?"

I nodded. "Forgive me for letting it happen?"

She smiled and nodded.

I said, "Love you, Em."

She turned away from me.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

Facing me she said, "I should tell you..." She trailed off.
"What?"

"Nothing. It's nothing." She ran her hands along my blanket and said, "You know how cute you are, wrapped up in your blanket?"

I shrugged.

"Very, very cute," she said, "Now, kiss me and make up."

We kissed. She held it for an extra moment before pulling away.

Smiling, she left.

I heard showers running, and then, silence. Everyone must've decided to go to bed. It had been a long day.

I watched tv for another hour, and then went up, myself.

***

I must have fallen asleep almost instantly, but I woke after midnight. Shuffling to the bathroom, I heard something and stopped.

It was Mom, weeping.

After I finished and washed my hands, I debated going to visit her, try to give her some peace.

No. She hated me. I broke her heart.

I went back to my room and laid down. All was silent in there, but even though I knew it was impossible, I felt as if I could still hear Mom crying, alone, in her room.

Lia had said she was like when Dad left us. Afraid, I thought.

Instantly, I understood the problem.

I debated waiting until morning, but not for long. This was too important

I got up and walked to the master bedroom.

Mom lay on her left side, away from me. Her left arm curled under the pillow beneath her head. Her right arm clutched the thick comforter to her breast. Her fat red curls fell around her face.

I closed the door behind me.

She turned, wiping her eyes and uttered, "Did I wake you?" as she glanced at the clock on her nightstand.

I shook my head, kneeling beside the bed. "No, I wanted to tell you something, and it couldn't wait."

She searched my eyes and waited.

I said, "You're never going to lose me."

Mom blinked.

"No matter what," I continued, "I'll always be your son. I'll always love you with all of my heart."

Mom drew in a sharp breath, catching a tiny cry in her throat as she did. Her eyes grew glassy.

"The times we've been together, I've never felt closer to you or more loved by you. I did do things—tricky things—to make you want to stay and help me, but it was always because I loved being with you and being loved by you. I'm sorry."

She nodded, her eyes and lips pinching together in sadness.

I went on. "But, I screwed up. I know that...that not teaching me about sex anymore and helping...I know it doesn't mean that you don't love me."

She wiped her eyes, sobbing.

I hugged her and whispered into her ear. "I'm your boy. You're my Mom. Nothing can change that. I promise you: you'll never lose me, and I'll love you forever."

Mom let out a sharp, short cry. It seemed involuntary. It was a high pitched, plaintive burst. Following it, she clutched me in her arms and wept on my shoulder. She sobbed, telling me she loved me, and she cried, "Oh, my baby, my sweet, sweet, baby."

It wasn't comfortable, hugging someone laying in bed on her side while I was on my knees beside the mattress. Mom broke the hug to wipe her eyes.

Laying there on her side, weeping, I climbed in next to her, to hold her.

When I settled behind her, I wrapped my arm around her tummy. She enfolded my arm in hers, and I kissed the back of her head.

Mom said, "Here." She slid her comforter from under me and threw it over the both of us.

I was glad at what I'd done—content at my words and actions. I'd done the right thing.

I felt good.

Then, I felt something else.

I was in my boxers, and I felt the warm, smooth skin on the back of her thighs on the front of mine. She must be in panties, I thought.

I pinched my eyes shut: No. Do not think about it.

Instead, I thought about my father, and how he'd left us all out of guilt. I thought about how Mom must have decided, in her mind, that I had been about to do the same thing to her. No wonder she freaked.

Soon, she was no longer crying.

But, my struggle was far from over. She made a minute adjustment to her position, and it resulted in her bottom nestling into my groin.

It was time to go. I pulled my arm free of hers and began to sit up. "Let you sleep," I whispered

"Hold me just a little longer," she pleaded.

I laid back down on my side; Mom reset herself. Again, I felt the soft flesh of her bottom—through her panties and my boxers—on my penis.

This was trouble. I struggled not to think about our position.

It didn't matter. My penis began to inflate against her, so I drew back my hips, breaking contact.

Mom sighed and she reached behind her head, scooped up the entire pile of her hair and brought it to her front. I stared in the darkness at the smooth curvature of her nape and how it sloped toward her shoulder. Mom released my arm and clutched it again, drawing it slightly higher on her chest. I felt the underside of one of her breasts on my forearm.

My erection surged to the halfway point, and, to my alarm, grew through the hole in the front of my boxers. I was exposed.

Mom breathed softly.

I looked at her neck, bare and smooth. Her hair smelled like summer berries. I felt the gentle pressure of her breast on my arm. I let my mind imagine Mom's beautiful butt. I remembered its sweeping curves, its mass, and the beauty of the cream-colored skin that cover it, shining. I remembered touching it the very first time, placing my hands on her bottom. The urge to put my lips on it had been irresistible. Then, after I'd kissed it, I couldn't help but think how I wanted to see more, how I squeezed her flesh into my fingers, at first, to feel the softness, but then I did it again to see inside. I glimpsed her tight pink spot, and for whatever reason, I had wanted it.

I dwelled on these images, feeling my erection complete itself. It shot out from me, through the hole in my shorts, hovering and throbbing. It felt good to be so hard and ready. It pointed, I knew, right at those two creamy-white spheres packed tautly into her silky panties.

I listened. Her breathing had fallen into a peaceful rhythm.

I had to see it. I didn't want to ruin what I'd just rebuilt, but I had to.

I drew my arm from her tummy.

She caught her breath for a moment, then resumed her natural pace.

I raised the comforter off myself and draped it down, on the other side of her legs, exposing her bottom half. Then, I began inching down the bed, closing with that part of her that I couldn't resist seeing again, perhaps for the last time.

I checked a groan in my throat when I saw it. Her panties weren't thongs, but they were scanty, hugging tightly and splitting into a high v-shape toward her hips. They exposed and framed each bulbous half to perfection.

I waited, listening.

She continued sleeping as before.

I set one hand on her hip, feeling the warmth of her body, the silky texture of her skin. I slid my hand over her bottom, light as a feather.

My erection contracted. I felt it surge still further from my body, growing and tightening the skin around it even more. I felt its call for a connection.

Holding her hip, I leaned close and smelled her body. The aroma of strawberries, of coconut, and beneath it all, that rich feminine fragrance. I choked off yet another gasp. My mind was on fire.

The savage monster, desire, was upon me. I squeezed my eyelids together, fighting it.

Just one more look.

The decision made, I gave my senses free reign again. The first thing I noticed was the pain in my hand.

I was biting it, fiercely. I drew it free, seeing my teeth marks. I looked at Mom's bottom.

Just one kiss—to feel the texture of her on my lips.

I closed with her flesh, extended my lips, and pressed them against her.

Smooth. Warm. Yielding.

I kissed it again and felt the same perfection.

I kissing it, licking tenderly, to taste her.

Freshness. The hint of coconut. But more than that: woman. The taste of woman.

I opened my mouth and sucked on the flesh of her bottom as soothingly as I could. When I unlatched, I moved down and in, nearer her nexus. Then, I fastened my lips to her again, nursing and savoring. I loosened from her and inched closer.

When my lips held her again, my chin was on the back of her thigh, my nose pressed into her panties, and my lips were between her cheeks, in the gap where her panties narrowed to a thin strip that barely covered her little hole. I kissed and licked her, never touching her panties, but close, very close.

So close, in fact, I felt on my tongue how her skin there began to tighten, to firm up as it neared her anus.

I enjoyed this place for a minute or so, then I drew back, satisfied there was nothing new to explore without actually removing her panties.

But, I wanted more.

Mom's legs were together, like twins, one on top of the other as she slept.

As delicately as I could, I pushed the back of the knee on Mom's top leg. It moved forward. Once I had exposed a gap between the two legs, I pulled the other leg back, toward me.

Then, it happened.

Mom adjusted herself. She brought her top leg up toward her chest, almost to a right angle with her torso. She threw her other leg back slightly, and her torso rolled. She was almost, not quite, belly down. And she was spread wide.

Just one time, smell her vagina. That's it.

I slid off the bed and back on, between Mom's legs. I inched closer to her panties.

In her position, Mom's bottom arched up from her thighs in spectacular fashion. It ached me to see the curves. It almost looked like she was pushing her tummy down in order to lift her bottom, present it to her lover for the taking.

I leaned close, my nose grazed the fabric of her panties. I inhaled her fragrance.

Oh.

I tried not to curse.

"Oh, damn." The words sprang into my head and out of my lips in a whispered groan.

It was her scent. The female scent, but unique to her body. Like Lia's and Emma's, but not exactly so. It was Mom's—her body's signature—and it suited her flawlessly. It was an aroma, I thought, designed to beckon a lover, draw him or her closer.

I reached out for her with my tongue, running the flat of it along her panties.

Then, I froze.

A sound?

The entirety of my senses had been focused on that one place between Mom's legs. I couldn't be sure.

I waited, listening.

I heard nothing, but the moment broke my intense concentration; it afforded me the chance to take stock of where I was and what I was doing.

I drew my head back from her bottom.

This is insane, I told myself. To take advantage of Mom while she slept in this way was a violation of the very trust I had just worked so hard to restore. Stop. Now.

But.

But, there had been signs, hadn't there? She'd asked me to stay. The way she'd repositioned her body—not once, but twice—to either push our bodies together or to grant me access to hers. It almost seemed like she wanted this.

Those signs could have been misread. Or unintentional.

Just a taste. Lick on it a little bit more, just until you can taste her one last time.

I drew near and began slowly lapping upon the crotch of her panties. Every third or fourth dab, I pressed a little harder to feel on my tongue the shape of her special place.

I listened for her while I soaked the fabric with saliva. Maybe her breathing was a little deeper.

I pushed my lips against her panties and sucked, searching for it, tasting for it. Not yet. I went back to work with my tongue.

Then, I heard her. It was a soft coo. I waited, and a few seconds later, she was back to normal.

I pressed against her harder. I felt her labia and the slit between.

She hummed. It was a satisfied, encouraging sound.

I sucked on her panties, and there—there it was.

I groaned, letting the fragrance fill my head and letting the taste course through me, warm every part of me.

Then, she spoke.

"Fuck me, Jake."

I flinched, flexing and jerking in one sudden, full-body twitch.

Two things about those words absolutely floored me. First, never in my life had I heard my mother curse like that. The f-word? Never even close. Second, she had called me Jake.

My name wasn't Jake. That was my father's name.

"Please, Jake. Fuck me."

Mom's body moved. She completed her roll, laying flat on her tummy. She spread her legs wide, and then she raised her bottom from the bed.

I rose up to my knees, gazing at what she proffered.

I slipped my boxers over my erection and down to my knees. I slid my hand under her panties, curled my fingers into a fist, and drew them aside. I held the bend between her hip and her thigh with my other hand.

I inched toward her until the front bulb of my penis nudged her wet labia.

"Yes, Jake."

I let go of her leg. Then, I grabbed my erection and dragged it up and down along her slit until she opened for me. Her panties in my fist, I pulled her onto me.

As the feeling of our wet connection invaded my body, I looked up at the ceiling and exhaled, grunting and groaning.

She was extremely wet, and it allowed a fluid, unchecked entry. She moaned through it all, only stopping to pant when her bottom and my stomach pressed together.

"Oh, Jake," she gasped through rapid breaths, "Oh, my Jake."

I held there, relishing the surge of sexual power her body gave me. Then, I pushed her forward with my fistful of panty and brought us back together.

She cried, "Oh!"

Then, we were making love. I thrust, but not recklessly. Fully, more like. She let me control our pace with my grip on her panties.

She called me Jake, and she wasn't loud. She was sweet and breathless, and in no time at all, it seemed, she was climaxing.

"Give me another baby, Jake," she huffed. "Please make me pregnant."

I was hitting my own peak.

"I beg you," she panted. "Make a son in me."

She bawled into the mattress, feeling the power of my thrusts reach a crescendo. She let me haul her bottom onto my erection with her panties. Our bodies clapped together, and then I held her, fully seated. I squeezed us together with savage strength, burying my penis even deeper.

She cried, "Oh, Jake!"

Then, the semen rushed from me in throbbing waves.

I grunted. She cried.

I couldn't move, the feeling was so paralyzingly exquisite.

As it subsided, I listened to us pant. I released my hold on her panties, and I watched her bottom arch up, slipping away from my penis and slowly descend to the bed.

"It will be a boy this time, Jake. I feel it," she whispered, "and the girls will adore him."

She laid there, recovering her breath, and I climbed out from between her legs. When I slid the comforter over her, she curled up and sighed.

A minute later, I listened to her breathing hit that sleeping rhythm.

I drew up my boxers and left, kissing her cheek before I walked out.

***

When I awoke, my first thought was that I felt really, really good. Then, I remembered.

Too tired to consider it the night before, I puzzled it out, nervously, in bed for a time.

I had been "Jake" last night—my father—as I made love to Mom. Had she been dreaming it? Part of some incredibly real sleep-sex event?

I supposed it was possible, but I wasn't sure.

And, what was more, when she woke, she would certainly remember the dream, and she would also see and feel the reality—on the bed, in the state of her panties, in her vagina. Then, how would she feel?

What if she hadn't been dreaming? What did that mean? Did she convince herself to let me mount her by pretending—reliving the moment of her son's—my own—conception, nineteen years ago?

Everything could be okay, I thought, but it could also be very, very bad.

My clock read 9:34am. As I got up, I saw something on my desk— a note.

In Mom's handwriting.

"Baby, Thank you so much for making me feel better last night. It meant so much to me to hear those words from you. Read them from me, now: I love you, and you'll never lose me, either. -Mom"

There was a post-script: "Get a good sample this morning! Three to go!"

This was good news. I took a shower.

***

It seemed like no one was home. Mom had to have gone in to work. I had no idea about Lia and Emma. I supposed they might still be sleeping.

I ate breakfast by myself, wrapped in my blanket, and then went upstairs to fill my next cup.

I knocked and opened the door to Emma's room. She was gone. I walked down the hall to Lia's. When I knocked, she said, "Come in."

I walked in.

"Hey, Lia."

"Fuzzy boy."

She was in bed, reading. She put the book on her nightstand. Her pajamas were on the floor.

"Did you get up already?" I asked.

She nodded. "Ran a quick errand."

"And you're in bed again?"

"More comfortable."

I nodded. Then, I said, "Just wanted to tell you: think Mom's okay, now. Talked to her last night."

"What'd you say?"

"Long story, but she was worried, I think, that I would leave us like Dad did."

"But, weren't you going to? Leave, I mean."

"Yeah, but only if you guys still hated me and didn't want me around."

"We want you around, fuzzy boy," she said. "So, how do you know she's good?"

"She forgave me, hugged me. Told her I loved her. She cried a little, but more like tears of relief and joy, you know?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding. "So, are you going to stay through to the end of break?"

"Yeah."

"And come home next summer?"

"Yeah."

"Good," she said, smiling.

"Hey, Lia?"

She looked at me.

"I love you. I couldn't ask for a better sister."

She nodded. "Thank you."

"I kind of envy the guy you marry someday."

She smiled.

I sighed. "I should get going. Got a job to do."

Before I turned away, Lia sat up. "Are you going to masturbate?"

I shrugged and nodded.

"Can I come?" Her voice was timid. "Maybe?"

I smiled and extended my hand to her.

She didn't grab it. "Wait," she said. Then, she got up, in just her panties and a tank top, and walked over to her desk. She fetched something out of a small plastic bag, held it in one hand, and took mine with the other.

We walked to my bedroom, holding hands.

When I closed the door behind us, she let me go. I went to the desk and grabbed the 17th cup. I turned back to her, and she was standing, bouncing on her tippy toes, smiling.

Her hands were together, under her chin, holding a box.

A box of condoms.

"Want to?" she asked.

I leaped at her, and we were kissing. I gave her my tongue, and she sucked on it while she stripped off my boxers. We split apart while I lifted her shirt over her head. When we kissed again, I opened my mouth and she licked inside it, stroking my tongue with hers.

I rubbed between Lia's legs, through her panties. Her vagina felt like a furnace. I hooked my fingers under her panties at her hips and tugged them down. She slid them the rest of the way off. Then, she cupped my testicles in her palm. She released them and took my growing erection in her fingers, stroking it.

I lifted Lia off the ground, still kissing her, and put her on my bed. She broke the kiss and sank to her knees. Smiling, she lurched forward and kissed my penis. Looking up at me, she murmured, "I love how it gets hard for me."

"Still getting harder," I said. I cupped her breasts, gauging their mass in my hands and enjoying the satiny firmness.

Lia swung her legs around and sat on the edge of the bed, straddling my legs. She grabbed my bottom and drew me near. My penis rode inside her cleavage, and then rested vertically against her chest and neck, just under her chin.

I watched her grin up at me, biting her lower lip. Clutching her breasts, she drew them together around my penis and began massaging it.

I groaned, then muttered, "Feels really good."

She bent her head down, and I gasped when I felt her lips enfold the tip of my erection.

In seconds, my penis completed its journey to maximum rigidity.

Lia drew away to admire her work. The tip shined with her saliva.

I said, "You did that to me."

She smiled.
"Lia, can I lick you?"

"No, I want to have sex, real sex." She went to my desk and ripped the box of condoms open. Tearing one of them away, she said, "Lay down."

I did.

She broke the seal with her teeth and drew forth the tan ring.

It looked really small.

She came over and put the ring on the tip. It looked like a little snowcap on a big head. Lia gripped the tip and tried to unroll it, but it snapped back up. She tried again. No.

"Hold the top?" She asked me.

I did.

Using two sets of fingers, she began unfurling it. The ring slipped over the tip.

I could not believe how tight it was. I drew a sharp breath.

"Are you okay?"

I nodded. "Really tight."

Her fingers managed to draw the ring down another inch, and then the condom began rolling itself back up. Lia arrested it's movement and pulled it down firmly.

I saw the fat head of my penis surging inside the super-tight cap.

Lia pulled again, and the tip split. She said, "Oh! Oh, no. Are you okay?"

I nodded, saying, "Let me." I drew the ring back and off myself, tossing it on the floor.

Lia was thinking, I could see. "Let me see this box," she whispered. She grabbed it and looked over the front and the back. "It says 'regular.' Are there sizes?" she asked.

"Maybe," I said. "I think so."

"I got regular ones. I—I didn't know," she said.

"Try another one," I suggested.

She took the next one, opened it, and looked at it sadly. "It looks the same, fuzzy boy."

"Try it, Lia. I want you."

"Help me."

Together, we unfurled the contraption. Again, it was extremely tight, but this time, we left more space at the tip, unrolling it a little before we put it on. We got about three inches of it on me before it began to ride back up.

I said, "It's okay. It'll work."

"Are you sure?"

I nodded. "It's tight, but we're good. Do you want me to..."

She shook her head and climbed over me. "Let me control it." She was on her knee on one side of me, and she had her foot down, knee bent, on the other side. She grabbed my erection, and watching between her legs, brought it to her vagina. In position, she put her other knee down, and the tip slid inside her.

"Oh!"

Lia placed her hands on my chest. Her face took on a look of fierce concentration, and she began to lower herself on my erection.

"Oh, ow," she cried. "Ow. Ow." She pinched her eyes shut and bared her teeth.

"It hurts?"

She nodded, grimacing.

I watched her vagina slowly engulf my erection. "Mmm. Lia, that's so good," I muttered.

She let out the breath she'd been holding, and her bottom rested on my legs. "So big inside me. Oh, my gosh, that hurts," she whispered.

"Take it out, Lia. Don't want to hurt you."

"No," she whispered, "Let me do this."

She leaned forward, and her nipples grazed my chest. Her bottom rose and fell. She let out another huge breath. She repeated the act. And again.

"Better?" I asked.

"Much," she said, and she smiled at me.

"It feels so good to me."

She nodded, saying, "Okay, let's make love."

She rode me for a few seconds before I took her breasts in my hands and began to knead them. Lia cried, "Yes!" and her bottom slapped down on me.

I felt a small twitch, and the texture inside her vagina changed. I stopped her.

"No," she gasped. "Let me. It feels amazing." She made to begin riding me again, and I held her.

"Lia, it broke. The condom."

"Huh?"

"Here," I said, lifting her off me.

There it was, the tip had split again. Lia sat beside me as I yanked the ring off.

She moaned her disappointment, then pleaded with me. "Forgive me, fuzzy boy? I didn't know about sizes. I just..."

"It's okay, Lia," I soothed her. "Do you want to just...do it?"

She glanced at my erection and, poutingly, said, "No. We shouldn't. I want to, but we shouldn't."

I nodded.

She collapsed in bed beside me.

I drew her close and kissed her. "Loved being inside you, being—I don't know—connected with you like that."

"Me, too." Her hand began to stroke me.

"We could," I suggested, "use our mouths on each other. What do you think?"

She didn't answer for a moment. She just watched her hand massage my erection. Then, she stopped and looked up at me. "I—I like being joined with you. You could—I don't know—put it in my butt, maybe?" She glanced up at me, looking for a reaction.

"Don't want to hurt you, Lia."

"You won't," she quickly countered. "We'll go slowly. You'll get me ready."

I thought about it.

"So, will you? Put it in my butt?"

I nodded and sat up. I fetched the lubrication from my desk and brought it back to the bed.

Lia asked, "How do you want me?"

"Lay on your side."

I helped her over, facing away from me. I moved lower on the bed, behind her.

She instructed, "Go slowly, fuzzy boy, and make sure I'm...oh!"

My face was already inside her thighs, my tongue on her vagina. I liked her smell and her taste. I wiggled the tip between her labia and fondled her clitoris with it. When she began to react—making sweet sounds—I pushed my tongue as deeply inside her as it could go. I twisted it, side to side, and then kissed my way back out and down.

My lips dragged along the skin between her vagina and her anus, and when I reached the little spot, I slid two fingers inside her vagina. I kissed the hole and dabbed it with my tongue a few times. I liked this sounds Lia made when I did it. So, I licked it with purpose and resolve, made it my own while I fingered her.

I liked having my face pushed up between the two orbs of her bottom. I liked hearing Lia pant and moan while I licked her pink anus.

My fingers brought her to orgasm, and she called out how she loved it.

When her body quit resisting me, I pulled back and drew my fingers out of her. I grabbed the lubrication and dabbed some on my fingers. Opening her bottom with one hand, I massaged the vaseline on and around her anus.

I dabbed some more and prepared my penis.

My index finger slid into her easily, and Lia barely reacted. She sighed soothingly as I gently rocked the finger in and out, in and out.

"Okay?" I asked.

"Feels good."

"Ready for two?"

She nodded. "Mm-hmm."

I brought my fingers together and stationed them against her. With gradual, mounting pressure, she opened and let the tips inside.

Lia struggled to allow the two completely inside her, but once they were in, she seemed to adjust. I drove them, slowly, back and forth, listening to her hums and gasps.

When I pulled them out, she said, "I think I'm ready for your penis now."

I laid beside and behind her, nestling my erection between the mass of her two cheeks. When my penis was aligned, I released it and held her waist.

She turned her face toward me, and she looked nervous.

"Sure about this?" I asked.

She nodded, and I pushed.

When she felt it, she pleaded, "Kiss me!"

I rose from the pillow and craned my head over to her. She twisted as far as she could back to me, and we kissed.

When the tip penetrated her, she moaned into my mouth, but we didn't stop kissing.

I pushed in further. Her hand stopped me, resting on my hip.

I made out with her. Our lips churned and twisted together. Our mouths opened, and our tongues caressed. Her lips grasped my tongue and she hummed on it—a little "Mm-hmm."

So, I drove further inside her.

She broke the kiss to say, "Don't stop kissing me." Our mouths attacked one another.

I pushed in deeper.

Lia gently bit down on my tongue and grunted. When she opened her mouth to gasp, I put my lips over hers, catching her sound in my throat.

She liked this and kissed me back with renewed energy.

When I made to go further inside her, she pulled away. "No more. I can't take any more."

I nodded.

She asked, "Is it enough for you? Can you make love to me like this?"

I nodded.

"Okay, kiss me again."

I did, and I slowly drew my penis back out to the tip. Then, just as slowly, pushed it back inside her.

Lia wheezed in my mouth.

I did it again. And again, slightly faster.

She muttered, "I like it." She put her hand on my hip—there was more she wanted to say.

I paused.

"I like being joined with you. I like how hard it is for me, and how gentle you're being. And I like how big it is inside me, how it takes me to the limit."

I drew back and pushed, but she stopped me, again.

She said, "You can do it inside me—ejaculate in my bottom."

"But, the sample," I said.

"Just," she explained, "just don't do it too deeply. Pull back. I'll try to hold it—your sperm—inside me until you get the cup, okay?"

"Why, Lia?"

"I—I want to feel what it's like to have you climax inside my body. I think I'm really going to like it."

"Okay," I said. A thought occurred to me at that moment. "Maybe we shouldn't be on our sides, then. The sperm...gravity and all."

She nodded.

I withdrew my erection, and Lia rolled on her tummy and rose to her knees.

"Not that way, Lia."

"Huh?"

"Can't kiss you that way."

"But, gravity..."

"Here," I said, and I put her on her back. I brought her legs up. "I'll hold you up after. This way we can kiss."

"You like kissing me?" she asked.

I nodded.

She took a few deep breaths. "Okay, I'm ready. Put it back in my butthole."

I put the tip inside her.

"Don't," she begged, "hurt me."

I looked at her, surprised.

"I know you wouldn't, but you're so big and, with me being like this, I don't have any control."

I nodded and kissed her deeply, sinking my erection gently into her anus at the same time. She moaned.

It was beautiful. We kissed and made love. She made her noises in my mouth, and I felt them in my gut. She pulled her lips off mine to tell me she liked it, to praise me for going slowly and gently, and to thank me for making love to her.

I told her she was beautiful, and that I never wanted to stop.

She said that she liked having my penis in her bottom and that she was starting to feel really warm inside, like she might have an orgasm.

I said, "Me, too."

"You're going to...cum?" she asked, and her cheeks flushed with red at the use of the term "cum." I hadn't ever heard her say it before.

I smiled. "Like it when you say that word."

"Cum?"

I grunted, nodding.

"Cum in me."

I gasped and kissed her.

When I broke away from her lips, she said, "Cum in my...ass."

Another first: "ass."

"Lia," I groaned, pushing inside her deeper than before. "Say it again."

She cried out, and then said, "Please, cum in my ass."

"Lia, let me in. Let me go all the way."

"All the way," she nodded, bracing herself.

I drove my penis into her. Deeper and further.

Lia screamed, "Oh! Oh, cum in my ass!"

I seized her lips with mine and grunted into her. My erection could go no further. When I felt the unstoppable rush of energy flood my body, I pulled back to the tip.

Lia knew I was about to ejaculate. She cried, "Yes!" over and again.

I felt the length of the shaft bend and curl with each contraction—the pulses were that strong—but Lia's bottom gripped the head firmly, never letting me slip out. My semen was filling her bottom in heavy, throbbing salvos.

I listen to Lia's cries and felt my body give her everything.

Drained, I collapsed on her breast, groaning her name. My penis slipped free, but Lia's bottom was still raised. I wasn't worried about losing the sample.

Lia started laughing. "Oh, my gosh. That was amazing!"

I panted on her, catching my breath and listening to her joy.

I felt her kiss the top of my head, and one of her hands gently rubbed my buzzed hair. She started chattering, almost non-stop, describing the event, "I didn't think your penis would fit all the way in, and when it did—oh, my gosh—it hurt, but it also felt really good. And when you ejac...came? Oh! I could feel your penis, like, surge and get bigger inside me, and then I felt your sperm just totally fill me. Oh, and your body! It got so strong when you came. It was like my body turned you...I don't know...superhuman or something. Oh, my gosh, it was so sexy feeling your muscles when you came! And I was really close to having an orgasm. You have no idea. I think next time, I will. And you weren't even touching my vagina, but I could feel it inside me there. Isn't that crazy? Oh, my gosh."

I didn't speak, just enjoying being between her breasts.

"I can still feel it in me," she said. "We should probably get it in the cup."

I turned and grabbed the cup. Kissing her nipple, I sat up and unscrewed the lid.

"Are you ready?" she asked. "It wants to come out. I don't think I can hold it much longer."

She was squeezing her muscle down there, and it throbbed almost imperceptibly. I placed the cup underneath her.

"Don't think I'm gross, okay, fuzzy boy?"

I shook my head. "Ready."

Then, Lia's anus relaxed, and my sperm slid from her body into the jar. It came in two rushing streams. Between each, Lia's little hole pinched.

"Tell me it's not gross," she uttered, sounding quite shy and innocent.

"Fine, Lia."

"Wait, I think there's more," she said, and I watched her muscle work, and a few drops seeped out.

"That it?"

"Yeah. Is it enough?"

I looked at her and nodded, holding up the cup for her to see.

"Oh. Okay, then. Yeah, that's enough," she said, a little surprised. "Can I have it?"

She sat up, and I handed it to her.

Lia brought the cup to her face and scrutinized it. She whispered, "This is, like, the very essence of you." Then, to my surprise, she sniffed the cup. Realizing, I suppose, that smelling my sperm might seem strange, she looked up at me shyly. She said, "I just...I wanted to make sure it didn't smell funny—Mom, you know?"

"Think she's going to smell it?"

"I think she has before." She whiffed it again.

"Smell okay?"

"Normal."

"Good," I said.

Lia stared at the fluid in the jar a moment longer.

"What?" I asked.

She screwed the lid on it. "Can I do something with your penis for a second?"

"Huh?"

"Just let me see it."

I sat upright on my knees and scooted close to her. She held the sagging erection in her palm, scrutinizing the tip. Then, she massaged it, from the bottom to the top, gyrating her fingers in a wave-like motion. A drop of sperm emerged and slid down. Instantly, Lia's tongue darted underneath it, and then her lips wrapped around the tip.

I gasped.

Lia glanced up at me and swallowed it.

Then, she tried coaxing up even more of my fluid with her fingers.

On the second pass, an even smaller drop appeared at the opening and did not emerge. Lia kissed the tip, sucking gently, and when she drew back, the drop was gone. Seemingly satisfied, she released me.

I sat back and stared at her questioningly.

She said, "I know it was just in my bottom, but I don't care. Your body made it for me. Gave it to me." She shrugged. "If it's for me, I want all of it."

She looked vulnerable, like she'd admitted something potentially shameful. I kissed her. It lasted a long time.

I think my response was satisfactory.

Afterward, I laid her down on my bed and drew my big and fuzzy blanket over her. Told her not to move as I raced downstairs to put the sample in the freezer. When I got back to my room, I snuggled close to her. She rubbed my head while I nursed on her breasts. Eventually, we both drifted off.

***

I woke before her and took a shower. I caught a ride with some pals to the gym and worked out that afternoon. The same guys wanted to see one of the big holiday movies before we searched for a good party, and I tagged along, missing Mom when she came home from work.

I was out late with my friends; we found a house party. It was New Year's Eve, after all. I rolled home well after two in the morning.

Lia wasn't home—probably still out with her own friends, but Emma came home right after me, and I quietly called to her from the kitchen.

She ignored me and went upstairs immediately.

She knew I was up, I thought. She had to have seen and heard me.

I followed her upstairs a few minutes later. Under the door, it was clear her lights were off. I knocked quietly. Nothing. I grasped the handle and turned it.

It was locked.

That was odd. I let her be.

After readying myself for bed, I thought about Mom and the night before. I never even got the chance to talk to her all day, and I probably wouldn't see her until the next evening, assuming I wasn't out with friends again.

Was she regretting it?

Did she feel the need to explain why she'd called me by my father's name?

I didn't regret it; the memory stirred me. I shut off the night light and stared at the ceiling, thinking about her.

It was the way she'd slipped off my penis—when all had been done—that struck me, lingered with me in the darkness. She had been on her knees, and they were spread wide. I was between them. Her lower back arched down, which curved her bottom up. Then, she slid her torso low and forward. I didn't think of it then, but I realized it there in my bedroom: there was something both feminine and feline in her movement. It was graceful and nimble, but with slow-burning sensuality.

As she slid forward, I watched my penis gradually emerge from her. Still incredibly hard, my erection eventually snapped out of her and wobbled for a moment. She let her bottom down to the mattress, but at a lingering pace. It was almost as if she were leaving it there for me to see—a kind of pose. Even when she'd stopped moving, apparently down, comfortably on the bed again, her bottom had been slightly tilted up and her legs remained wide apart.

It had not been until I draped the comforter back over her that she'd completely relaxed.

There was something flirtatious and voluptuous in what she'd done.

It was young, I realized. It was a younger woman's agility in that act.

It had been Mom, of course. There wasn't a doubt in my mind about that, but she seemed so youthful as she demurely, languorously drew her vagina from my penis.

And the view! It had been stunning for those few seconds—heart-stopping, heart-achingly perfect.

I groaned, remembering what I'd seen. Then, I laid still for a moment, thinking.

Then, I slid out of bed.

***

I was rewarded as I stood at the threshold of her bedroom at 2:30 in the morning.

Mom slept peacefully, half-naked. She wore a long tee-shirt and no panties. She appeared to have cast her comforter aside, and she lay on her left side, facing away from me. Her legs were bent together into a kind of fetal position.

Impulsively, my first thought was to take it, just take her bottom—see it, touch it, taste and lick it, everywhere. Climb into the bed near it, I urged myself, and begin. Mom would stir and awaken, finding her body being thoroughly enjoyed.

I didn't do that.

Remembering the previous night, I considered how our sex had been the result of a process of sharing, forgiveness, and closeness.

Mom's bottom, it seemed to me, was not mine to just have whenever I felt it. And, although the signs had all been positive the day before, I wasn't certain that she would allow, much less appreciate, a sudden, uninvited sexual enterprise upon her body in the middle of the night. Plus, it wasn't entirely clear to me that I was a welcome sexual partner. She had, after all, called me by my father's name when I mounted her before.

I closed the door and sat on the bed, beside her. Then, I whispered her name.

Not "Mom." Her name. "Beth," I murmured.

I reached out and rubbed her shoulder softly.

"Beth."

She stirred, mumbling, "Hmm?"

"I'm...," I hesitated. "I'm cold."

She reached back. Her fingers found my thigh and tugged.

I slid in beside her, pressing our bodies together. A layer of warmth formed where my chest joined her back. My hand settled on her breast, and my face in the crook of her neck. I nestled the tip of my penis—still erect—between the two soft globes of her bottom.
"Mmm," Mom hummed. "That's nice."

I kissed the smooth skin of her neck. Latching there, I gently sucked. Her skin tasted cool and fresh.

"You need me, Jake?" she muttered drowsily.

"Want you, Beth," I mumbled, briefly drawing my lips from her neck.

She rolled toward me, descending slightly so that my head was slightly higher than hers. Eyes closed, she began planting tiny kisses on my chin and neck. Her fingertips drew light circles on my chest and stomach.

I groaned.

"What do you want, Jake, my sweet?" her voice was airy and low. Before I could answer, she clasped my hand with hers and drew it up to her face. She kissed my index finger, and then she slid her lips around it, sucking and massaging it with her tongue. Her mouth was soft, warm, and very, very wet.

"What do you want, Beth?" I asked, haltingly. It felt too good, and some of the words caught in my throat.

Her lips slid off my finger, and she whispered, "I want to please my man." She let go of my hand and slid down the bed, kissing my body on the way. At my chest, she paused. Her eyes, drowsy, but adoring, fixed on mine.

"I'm not sure how, though," she began. "Will you help me decide?"

I nodded.

"I like it when it goes all over my face. I like how warm it is, and then how it cools, and I like how strange it feels, sleeping with it on my cheeks and lips. And waking up, I like feeling dirty and sexy with all of that dried cum on my face." She looked at me, waiting.

"I like that, too," I said, still jarred by her language. I loved how dirty she spoke.

She smiled, saying, "But, I also like it when it's on my tits. I get to watch your face when you cum. It's hard to watch your face when you're cumming on mine."

I nodded.

"And, when it's on my tits, I can lick it off, and I still feel sexy and sticky and dirty when I go to sleep."

I nodded.

"But, I like swallowing it all, too," she said. "I get to see your face, I get to feel your cock throb on my tongue and between my lips, and it's so clean and perfect: from you to me. No spills. No mess. And, I get that sexy dirty feeling from the taste in my mouth, and the feeling in my tummy."

I nodded.

"I just don't know," she muttered, and her eyes waited on me as if she really needed help with this decision.

"In your tummy."

Her face grew bright, and her teeth shined inside her smile. "Good, because I'm a little bit hungry."

She inched down. When she wasn't kissing, she whispered to me.

"Let me suck on my Jake's cock."

"Let me make him feel so good."

"Let me swallow my Jake's cum."

"Let me feed from his body."

No kissing and licking, her lips instantly took me in.

I gasped. Her words and her looks had already taken me to the heights of anticipation.

We were on our sides, and Mom looked up at me throughout. Other than the occasional blink, our eyes fixed on each other.

Her jaw gaped to take me in. Her creamy skin sank in around her cheekbones with the suction, and her lips were fat as they ran along the shaft. She worked slowly, with apparent enjoyment.

She wasn't noisy or sloppy. It was clean and mostly quiet. The only sounds I heard from her were the occasional hum of satisfaction from her lips and a periodic gulp emanating from her throat.

I wasn't as quiet. Almost as soon as she started, I began moaning her name. It was painfully good, and I tried to either gasp or hold my breath. The ramp up was beginning.

She stopped, suddenly. Then, gazing at me, she kissed the tip. She didn't say or do anything, just watched me with the hint of a smirk.

My chest heaved in and out. I huffed, "Please, Beth."

"Ready?"

I nodded.

"Will you feed me?"

"Yeah."

She let her lips drag around the tip, still watching me. It was playful, the way she let her lips tease the head of my erection, the way her eyes scanned me for a reaction. She smiled and then bit my penis gently.

And for the second time, I was struck by her youth. She didn't seem like the middle-aged woman she was. Something about her eyes and her face gave the impression of a much younger woman. They were energized and eager. Her bearing, I thought, was more like the girls my own age. In a way, she reminded me of Lia and Emma.

This was not the same woman who pleasured me and taught me about sex in order to fill cups. She was something new.

It was a glimpse, I thought, into my Mom's youth. This is what she was like for my father when they were young and in love. This is the kind of lover she was: energetic, tender, giving all, and surprisingly playful.

"What?" she shyly asked, seeing, I supposed, how closely I regarded her every move.

"You're incredible."

She batted her eyes and asked if I'd been teased long enough.

I nodded.

"Will you watch me swallow it?"

I nodded.

"Don't close your eyes," she urged.

I shook my head.

I lasted thirty seconds, maybe. It was her eyes. They locked onto mine and fed off my reaction. She liked how good she was making me feel.

I wanted to close my eyes, but I didn't. Instead, I gripped her head with both hands. As the muscles in my stomach clenched, I bent towards her.

Feeling the waves of release, I held my breath. I cradled her face, kept it pointed towards mine, and listened to her throaty gulps. She didn't hold it in her mouth, she swallowed as it came, in rhythm with the pulses.

I released her from my grip at the same moment the breath I'd been holding burst from me in a long, low growl.

Mom held me in her mouth, sucking and swallowing, for a few more seconds. When she let my erection slip free, her face beamed. "Happy New Year, Jake," she whispered.

I rolled onto my back, completely drained.

She collapsed on my tummy.

We fell asleep that way.

***

I woke again when I heard Mom in the shower, getting ready for work. Holidays are often her favorite days to go in. The place is empty, and she can get a ton of stuff done, she says. I grabbed my boxers and went back to my room.

Laying in bed, I found I couldn't get back to sleep. I had too many questions that still needed answering.

How much was Mom pretending? She called me "Jake." I had played along, calling her "Beth" and not "Mom." She seemed to either not care or actually like it. Is that something she wanted or needed me to do? Was she so tired that she actually believed it?

Then, what about when she woke up and showered? Had she not seen me there in bed with her?

And, why was she so different—so youthful—when we were together as Beth and Jake, especially compared to the times before, when she helped with my cups?

Had she been expecting me in the night? Is that why the covers were down and she hadn't been wearing panties?

Did she want me to keep visiting her? Was she hoping for it last night?

These thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Mom's footsteps, heading in the direction of either the stairs or my room.

I snapped my eyes shut and lay completely still.

She silently entered my room.

I heard her draw near me. I felt her standing over my body, watching me. It had to have been fifteen seconds she was there. I almost jumped when she kissed my cheek. She left shortly after.

I should go talk to her, ask her these questions I had.

I decided not to, and I'm not sure why. I suppose I was just too confused about everything.

What the heck was going on with Mom?

*****

Note: This is self-edited, an imperfect process. Please forgive the errors; they're in there, I'm sure. Thanks so much for reading. -FS

Twenty Cups Ch. 05

Mom's confesses, the sisters respond, and the sperm test.

Emma and I were the only ones home in the morning. I heard her in the shower, and both Mom's and Lia's cars were gone.

I laid on the couch in the family room, watching ESPN, curled up in my blanket.

She came into the room and sat on a chair beside me at around 9:00am. I glanced at her. She wasn't chilling out comfortably; she sat forward on the chair, knees together, and her arms were wrapped around her waist in a kind of self-hug.

After a few minutes, she said, "Pause it? I want to talk."

I grabbed the remote and hit the button. The room fell silent.

We looked at each other, and she seemed depressed, maybe even ashamed.

"What's wrong, Em?"

"I wanted to tell you something, and I hate it."

I wasn't sure what to say, so I waited.

She sighed. "I started going out with Kevin again, a few days ago, after...you know, the whole Aunt Blair thing."

"Yeah," I muttered.

"I'm sorry."

I rolled my body to better face her. "Em, you don't owe me an apology. You haven't—I don't know—promised me anything. Free to be with whoever you want. Same as me."

"I know," she said, nodding. "I know. I just...it was before you told us what really happened with her, and I was mad at you."

"Don't like him or something?"

"No, he's okay."

"Nice to you? Respects you?"

She nodded.

"Happy for you, Em. Not mad."

"Thank you," she said, "but..."

"What?"

"If I had only known sooner..."

"Known what, Em? What's going on?"

"I...I let him have sex with me. I'm not a virgin anymore."

I stared at her for a moment. "You okay? Everything okay?" I asked.

She nodded.

"Good," I responded, still unclear as to what was bothering her. "So...?"

"So, I wanted it to be with you!" she snapped. "Don't you see? If I had known sooner..."

"Oh."

"And I went out with him again last night, and he wanted to, and I...I felt like I had to let him."

I froze. "Didn't force you, did he?" I demanded.

"No!"

I relaxed.

She continued, "No, I just felt like I had to, and it was okay, but I hate myself for doing it."

I let out a small chuckle.

"It isn't funny!" Emma cried.

"No. No. I'm sorry, Em," I began, "Just reminds me of Aunt Blair. Didn't plan on it or want to, but it happened, and now I regret it, you know?"

"Oh," she said. "Yeah."

We both glanced at the paused image on the tv screen.

She broke the silence. "I wanted to tell you because, if you wanted to be with me again, I wanted you to know why...why I can't."

I didn't respond.

"I don't want to cheat on Kevin."

I nodded.

"Did you want to? Be with me again?"

"Yeah," I said. "I love being with you."

She sighed. We stared at the screen again until she said, "So, Lia told me you had sex yesterday."

"Yeah. Sort of."

"She told me about the condoms," Emma said. A beat passed, and she started laughing.

I glanced at her and smiled.

"I can't believe she didn't know about sizes!" Emma guffawed.

I said, "I only remembered when I saw it on the box."

"You didn't know, either?"

I shook my head.

She laughed again.

It was nice to see her happy.

She said, "I don't even need them; I'm on the pill." Then, she fell silent for a time. At the end of it, she asked, "Did you like it? Fucking her?"

I nodded. "Wish it lasted longer."

"Did you like...," she paused, and continued in almost a whisper, "...fucking her in the ass?"

I nodded.

We stared at each other, and her eyes fell away first.

"Em, did you like licking Lia?" I asked.

She glanced at me, took a breath, and said, "I'm no lesbian. I just...I guess I liked that she liked it. That make any sense?"

"Sexy to make someone else feel sexy?"

"Yeah," she agreed.

I glanced at the clock. She saw me and looked, too.

I hauled the blanket from underneath myself and slid forward to the end of the couch to get up.

She said, "Time for you to fill a cup?"

I nodded. "Second to last one." I stood and walked toward the stairs. "See ya, Em."

"Hey, do you think...forget it."

"What?" I asked.

She shook her head, and I walked up the stairs. At the top, I heard her call to me.

I stopped.

She was peering around the corner. "Can I see it again? One last time. Maybe just hold it for a second?"

I said, "You mean my..." I pointed toward my groin.

She nodded.

"Guess so. Sure."

***

Hooking my thumbs in the elastic waistband of my sweatpants, I paused.

She saw that I waited on her and nodded. "Go ahead."

I pulled my pants and boxers down, then kicked them off. I had already removed my shirt. I tugged off each sock and tossed them on the floor.

Emma looked at my penis. Glancing up at me, she said, "Are you going to make it hard?"

"Said you wanted to hold it. Might help."

She put her hands on her hips. "I'm not going to give you a hand job. I've got a boyfriend, and I'm not going to cheat on him."

"This isn't cheating?"

"No, it's looking."

"And when you hold it?"

"Touching, but not sexual touching. Touching to just see it and feel it one last time," she explained.

I raised an eyebrow.

She sighed. "Look, just lay down."

I walked over and slid in bed, rolling onto my back.

She came over and sat beside me.

When she reached for it, I said, "I get to see yours one last time, too."

Her hand stopped mid-reach, and she looked up at me, thinking. "Deal," she said, and then she lightly took hold of the shaft. "Starting to get hard?"

"Stroke it a little."

She let it go. "No! I can't do that."

"Then—I don't know—show me your breasts or something. Play with them."

She blinked at me, and then stripped off her shirt and unlatched her bra. She glanced at me when she cupped her breasts.

"Squeeze them," I said.

She did. I remembered the firmness when her fingers curled in. They were like overfull water-balloons, Em's breasts—bursting with mass.

"Lick one," I said.

With two hands, she drew her right breasts up toward her face, bent down, and licked it.

"Suck the nipple."

She did. After letting it free from her lips, she peeked at my penis. It grew for her.

"Suck it like...like you're sucking on my penis."

She stared at me, shook her head as if she wasn't too sure about my mind, and then did it.

Her jaw gaped; she took as much of her breast into her mouth as would fit. I watched her cheeks pump and heard her swallow. My half-erection surged to full strength.

After a bit, Emma released her breast with a gasp and saw what she wanted. "There it is," she sighed, smiling.

She leaned over, perhaps a foot and a half away. She took it in hand, and the first thing she did was point it right at her face.

I liked how her eyes moved over my erection. It was like she was studying it, memorizing it or something.

"Em, will you kiss it?"

She looked up, and we stared at one another for a beat. Then, she quietly uttered, "I shouldn't."

"Not for sex, I mean. Just, will you kiss it because you like it—you like me?"

She stared at my erection. "I'll kiss it because it's beautiful," she finally said. She bent down. Her lips puckered and extended. Their fullness pressed against the tip, and there was a light smack.

I grunted softly.

Emma's eyes slowly rose up my body and met mine. She didn't move or say a word.

"Again," I begged.

She pinched her eyes shut and then shook her head.

I searched for an alternative, and then, quickly, said, "What if you just held it, and I'll move my body. You don't have to stroke it."

The appeal of this idea showed on her face, but after a few seconds of consideration, she shook her head again. "We can't." She squeezed my penis firmly, saying, "And I need to stop right now." She closed her eyes and let it go.

About to rise, I stopped her. "My turn," I said.

"You got to see my tits."

"I want to see your bottom and your vagina." I tugged on her jeans. "Come on. Take them off."

She hesitated, considering.

"Had a deal, Em."

She rose from the bed and started to undress.

I sat up and threw my legs over the side. She was right in front of me.

I asked, "When you take them off, will you turn around?"

"My ass?"

I nodded.

She shook a finger at me, smiled, and spun away.

"Slowly," I breathed.

Emma arched her back before commencing a slow, sensual bend that gradually revealed the two perfect, fleshy ovals and the dark valley where they met. It was inches from my face. Every second of that descent was torture.

"Oh," I uttered, "Oh, my gosh."

Her entire bottom was there. I had forgotten the flawless pink-white of her skin and how it almost shined. I reached for it. Her bottom was big for her frame, but in my hands, it seemed small and plump.

The act complete, Emma rose up tall.

I had also forgotten the smooth and sweeping outward curve from her waist to her hips.

"Oh, geez, no," I huffed.

Emma let out an airy laugh.

"I have to kiss it, Em. Let me?"

I looked up and saw the back of her head nod.

I pulled her bottom to my face and put my lips on it. The flesh was smooth against my lips and perfectly feminine. The faint aroma of sex wafted up to my nose as I drew back. I wanted more, saying, "Bend over and let me smell your vagina?"

She hesitated. "Smell it?"

"Just want to smell it."

The back of her head nodded. She bent over.

I spread her bottom wide. Resting my nose between her labia, I took in her scent and uttered, "Yes." Still keeping her spread, I backed away for a fresh look. Perfection. I kissed her anus, and then, lowering my head, I sank my nose into her wetness and smelled it again. I pulled back, let out my breath, and whispered, "I love this, Em."

I heard Emma's deep breaths.

"Boyfriend do oral sex for you now?" I asked. As I awaited her response, I kissed her tiny pink puncture one more time. It contracted slightly. I put my tongue against it and waited.

"No, he hasn't," she said, and her voice was soft and breathless.

I dragged my tongue over it. Her anus shined with saliva when I drew back.

She moaned, "Fuck, that's sexy."

"Want you, Emma."

She began to turn, but I held her.

"No. Don't move. Let me lick it again."

Turning back, she said, "Yes. Yes, lick my asshole."

She murmured, "Hmm," when I did it.

"Going to put my tongue on your vagina."

Emma gasped, "But, what about Kevin? You shouldn't."

I said, "Let me lick your bottom, but doing it to your vagina is cheating?" I drew back and—I have no idea what seized me—but, I spanked her bottom gently. The firmness, the glorious curves, the smell and taste—I don't know. I guess I just wanted to spank her.

Emma caught her breath. She turned to me and stared.

I waited, unable to read her face.

Eventually, she said, "Okay, do that again."

"Huh?"

"Lick it, and then spank it. Harder, but not too hard." She turned back, waiting for me.

I clutched her bottom, pulled it towards my face, and licked her anus forcefully. Pushing her away, I fired a lightning-quick slap across one of her fat orbs.

Emma cried, "Ah!"

But it wasn't a cry of pain. It was more like shock.

She'd been bent almost in half, with her hands on her shins. After the spank, she shot up to a right angle. Her head spun towards me. Chest rising and falling with deep breaths, her jaw dropped. Her face was pink, shining with the earliest hint of exertion. But, her eyes told me everything.

She liked it—really, really liked it.

Finding inspiration, I said, "Been a bad girl."

She smiled, but a moment later, it vanished. She crinkled her eyebrows at me and whined, "I'm sorry, Daddy."

It was my turn to be surprised. I felt my eyes widen. I gulped. Recovering to my new role, I hissed, "Sorry isn't enough."

"You have to punish me?"

"Think you deserve it?" I demanded.

She nodded and turned away. "I'm bad," she admitted.

I smacked her bottom.

She moaned.

I spread her wide and dragged my tongue from her vagina all the way up to the small of her back.

Emma cooed.

I asked, "Think you've been spanked enough?"

"No, I think my Daddy's still upset."

I spanked her twice. "Stand up," I said. When she rose completely, I moved her a few feet forward. Then I walked around and stood facing her. "Suck on your finger."

She did.

"Get it good and wet."

She slathered it in saliva.

"Spread your legs."

She did, and I sat on the floor so that my body faced the same direction as hers. I tilted my head back, looking right up into her vagina.

"Put it in your bottom."

She reached around, and I watched her index finger wiggle inside her anus.

"Finger yourself."

It began to slide, back and forth.

I started to lick her vagina.

Emma's knees buckled when my lips pinched her clitoris. She moaned, and then whispered, "Oh, Daddy." She began to undulate her hips, putting my tongue where she wanted it to go.

I felt her hand on my forehead, brushing across it as she continued fingering her anus.

Quickly, I felt Emma give way, let me take back control. She was approaching her orgasm.

I stopped and pulled away. I said, "Two fingers now."

Her hand vanished. It returned a few seconds later, glistening with saliva, two fingers joined together.

She pushed them inside.

"Deeper," I said.

Her fingers sank to the second knuckle and stopped. I reached back and, grabbing her hand, urged them further.

Emma cried out.

"Like that," I said.

She began moving them back and forth.

Satisfied, my lips closed on her vagina, and my tongue delved inside her. I labored for a minute, listening to the build-up. Then, standing over me with two fingers in her bottom, she bawled her orgasm.

As she subsided, I slid out from under her. Standing, I said, "Not through, yet."

She huffed, "Wait. Wait."

I swept her into my arms and carried her to the bed. She rolled flat onto her tummy once I set her down. I clutched a pillow that had fallen on the floor and shoved it under her hips, raising her bottom off the mattress. Straddling her on my knees, I gently spanked her bottom.

"You a bad girl?"

"Yes," she whimpered.

"Cheated on Daddy with your little boyfriend, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Let him stick it in you?"

"Mm-hmm."

Sitting on the back of her thighs, I opened her bottom. My erection was so rigid that I had to grab it and angle it down uncomfortably in order to marry it up to her slick entrance.

When she felt the tip wiggle between her labia, she moaned, "Yes, Daddy. Fuck me."

Confident I was in, I let go of my penis and spanked her a few more times. Then, holding her hips, I began to snake myself into her.

Her head came off the mattress. "Oh, shit that's big! Oh, go slowly."

I spanked her again, but I went slowly. I felt her body lubricating and stretching tightly around my penis. The rush of pleasure and sexual power made me dizzy. I grunted her name.

She cried, "Oh, fuck!"

I paused. "More, Emma. More."

"I know. I know. How much?"

I glanced down. "Halfway there."

"Oh, shit. Okay."

I continued to drive myself into her.

She cried out sharply, and I stopped.

"No. No. Don't stop."

I continued until our bodies mashed together. I groaned at the feeling, the connection, and being completely inside her.

"Fuck me, Daddy," she whimpered.

I did, and to my astonishment, she had an orgasm in the matter of a minute. Her entire body quaked and shivered. She screamed into my mattress. I had only pushed myself into her a few dozen times before she hurtled into a climax.

My body was only just beginning to feel good.

"Take it out," she breathed. "Please. It's too sensitive now."

I did, sitting back on her thighs. "Don't move," I commanded. I went over to my desk and came back. Straddling her again, I took a few moments to prepare myself, and then I began to prepare her.

"Ah, wait. Oh, fuck. Are you going to..." She gasped and gulped. "Are you going to fuck me in the ass now?"

"Yeah."

"It won't fit in my butt," she uttered.

"We'll see. Call me 'Daddy.'"

Still flat on her tummy, her head swerved around to look at me. "What are you gonna...?"

I pried her open with my thumbs. The tight mass of her bottom felt heavy and soft in my hands. Each sphere more than filled my palms. Letting go of one side, I grabbed my erection and lined it up with her tiny, pink ring.

Still looking at me, she said, "But, it's too...I've never..." Her voice trailed off into a sensual whisper. Her eyebrows pinched together, raised, and she breathed, "Daddy!"

I pushed against her, and Emma's face turned forward, away from me, in a snap. She released a passionate cry. The tip was in. I waited, letting her adjust. "Emma?"

Gasping, she huffed, "Yeah?"

"Ever masturbate putting things in your bottom?"

Swallowing hard, she inhaled deeply and nodded.

"What things?"

Her voice pitched higher. "My finger sometimes."

"Anything else?" I asked, adjusting my knees slightly. My penis moved inside her.

"Oh. Oh, wait," she cried. Her chest heaved a few times, and then she said, "A carrot."

"A carrot?"

"Uh-huh."

"What's the biggest thing you put in there?"

"Your cock, Daddy."

"Besides that."

"My...my girl's toy."

"You have one?"

"Mm-hmm."

"What would you do?"

She seemed to be getting more comfortable, so I inched myself deeper inside her bottom. I was surprised to find my erection filling her with relative ease.

Emma moaned, and then panted as she spoke, sucking air at every pause. "I rubbed my clit...while I fucked...fucked my ass with the...the dildo."

I was mounted, ready to begin making love. I wondered why it had gone so much easier with Emma than Lia, and now I knew. She had practiced. "How often do you play with your bottom?"

"Sometimes."

"You like it?"

She nodded.

"Tell me what you want Daddy to do."

"Fuck my asshole, Daddy"

"Rub your clit?"

She nodded. I felt her body rise as her hand slid along the mattress between her legs. She moaned.

"Gonna ejaculate in your bottom. We'll have to get the sample out afterward. That okay?"

"Mm-hmm," she said, nodding. "Cum in my butt."

"Ask nicely."

"Please, Daddy, will you cum up my ass?"

"Keep saying that." I held her open and watched my glistening penis slide back and forth through her anus.

Her vagina had felt much better, like Lia's. There was, however, something incredibly sexy about making love to her this way. She was giving herself to me, completely. Her body, all of it, was mine. I liked how she wanted it, wanted to be mounted anally. And I loved her bottom. I loved its shape and contours, it's soft outer layer and the youthful firmness underneath. I loved its smell and taste.

"Cum in my butt, Daddy," she urged.

I grunted, "Yes," and pushed harder.

Emma moaned sweetly. Her voice and the sight of my penis disappearing inside her bottom ushered me to the end. I felt my penis hardening still further. I felt it flex and grow as I grunted and shoved into her.

She must have known what was coming, felt my climax arriving. She may have even been having her own. Her moans turned to howls. Her skin flushed with pink, and her bottom gyrated against mine, timing her own rearward thrust with my forward. I sank to the root, my testicles clapping against her fingers.

"Emma!" I called.

She screamed.

Then, my body felt infused with energy and power. Every part of me seemed to be flexing as if I were drawing my orgasm from my outmost limbs and channeling it to my core, and from my core, it pulsed, laser-like through my penis and inside Emma's butthole. My body felt like a machine designed to inject semen, and Emma's bottom was specially crafted to draw it from me.

She called my name as the last contractions fired.

The transfer of fluids ended, and I collapsed on her back.

Panting, Emma huffed, "Oh, shit, I feel it in there."
I kissed the back of her neck, gasping for breath.

She went on. "I came when I felt you starting to go, and when I started feeling your cum in my butt, my body just...I don't know...exploded. Oh, fuck, that was the best."

We rested, and I remained hard inside her bottom.

To get my sample, Emma took charge. She told me to keep my penis inside her while I lifted her bottom off the bed. She had me carry her to the side of the bed and then lay her down. Once there, I was close enough to the cup to grab it.

Emma's knees were on the floor and her body lay across on the bed. I was behind her, still connected.

She had me unscrew the lid and ready the cup underneath her. Then, she told me to pull out. It was smoothly done. I caught the initial rush, and Emma urged out the rest.

I had sample number 19.

After I set it on my desk, Emma waved me to her. We made out. She fondled my diminishing erection, and I her breasts.

She broke off the kiss and said, "I think I love you, fuzzy boy."

I blinked, and then said, "Of course you do. I'm your brother."

She seemed to consider this, and then she smiled and brightly said, "Yeah."

"I love you, too, Em."

We showered together, and Emma was very playful. She washed my penis and delighted herself by making me hard.

Then, she sucked on it, and I was, again, astonished at how much she could take down her throat.

She laid me down in the tub. Her body glistened with water, and her frizzy hair was matted down and slicked back. Squatting, she impaled herself on my penis and rode me. We came together a few minutes later, just as the water was beginning to cool. I squeezed her breasts as my erection loosed into her vagina.

No condom necessary; Emma was on the pill.

***

When Lia came home from her friend's house, she and Emma went upstairs together. I couldn't hear their words, but I knew from the muffled sounds above me that it was an animated and joyful conversation.

I watched bowl games and dozed.

Then, Mom came home. She checked the freezer for my sample. Didn't say a word. Then, I heard her march upstairs. Minutes after, she called for me to come up.

She waited for me in my room. She sounded miffed.

I stood at the threshold and stared at her. Her red curls were bound up in a ponytail. She wore a tight white tank top. And those pants. I'd never seen ones so tight in my life. She was wearing yoga pants that, it seemed to me, had been painted on her body. Charcoal gray. I could see the outline of her vagina—clearly.

"Look at this room, young man! If your dorm is like this, fine, but not in my house."

"Sorry, Mom."

"Clean it up. Here. Look," she said, and she spun in front of me and bent over, and oh, geez.

Those pants were so tight that they rode inside her bottom, inside the crease. I could see every contour, every curve. Her ass was big and round and beautiful.

Mom scooped up a small pile of clothes. Rising up again, she turned to me and snapped, "Look! You have a hamper! Use it!" She tossed the wad of clothing on top of it.

"I will, Mom."

"And, look at this! What is this?" She bent over again, picking at some crusty deposit on the carpet. Not having much success, she squatted over it, and then she went to her hands and knees. While her fingernails ripped across the deposit, scraping little flakes free, she grumbled, "You...have...no...regard...for...this...house...or...for...other...people's...property."

All the while, her bottom wiggled in front of me. I watched it move, remembering what was under that dark gray material: skin the color of pure cream, flesh like shiny silk, sweeping curves, and the smell and taste that was only hers.

She quit scraping at it. Bottom still pointed up at my face, she turned toward me. Her eyebrows slanted down in irritation, and she asked, "Is this semen? Am I scraping at dried semen?"

"Don't think so."

She turned back and dropped her nose to the carpet, lifting her butt higher. She whiffed at the stuff. "Hmm. Well, this might be semen, young man. I certainly hope you haven't been so careless as to spill some of your samples."

"No, Mom. I haven't." I didn't know what the stuff was, but I didn't care. I stared at the two round masses of her bottom. My heartbeat doubled.

She got up and curtly ordered, "Clean this room."

I nodded, and she left.

An hour later, I knocked on the closed door to Mom's room to let her know I was finished.

"Come in," she called from the other side.

I entered and froze. She was doing her yoga routine.

She was on the floor, on her back, legs spread wide. Her hands firmly gripped her ankles, her knees were locked, and she was pulling her legs backward. "Let me finish," she panted. Pulling on her ankles, her bottom rose from the floor. Every contour and crease on the surface of her vagina stood forth in stark relief against those tight pants. I thought, as her butt curled up towards me, that I could see a faint hint of her anus through her pants.

She blew out a long puff of air. A sheen of perspiration glowed on her pink-infused face. Then, she released her ankles and rose to her feet. "Let's have a look."

She led the way, and I ogled her bottom.

She was thorough and snippy, pointing out areas that I'd missed with abrupt criticism.

"Careless," she announced.

"Pitiful," she declared.

"Do your eyes work? Both of them?" she demanded.

I liked how irritated she seemed. I'm not sure why. Something in her face, maybe. The way she looked so annoyed. The way she patrolled my room like a boss.

"Let's see under the bed."

She suddenly squatted before me and thrust her head and shoulders under my bed frame. With pants on, her bottom could not have been presented to me in a more sexualized fashion as she rooted around under there.

I couldn't move or speak as I watched. My penis began to push my pants out. I glanced at it, and the front knob was clearly visible. I turned back to stare at her bottom. Even after she got up and turned to face me, I was still replaying the image of her butt in my mind.

She said something. I missed it.

"Huh?"

"You're not listening? I said to vacuum this room, and then you are free to enjoy the rest of the day."

"Okay, Mom."

"And don't whip the vacuum around the carpet like you normally do. Do it slowly," she insisted, and her eyes darted down toward my groin. She saw my growing erection, but she didn't say anything else. She just stared at me, waiting.

I nodded, and she left. I watched her body move the entire way.

While vacuuming, I dreamed about Mom's bottom—Beth's bottom.

A few minutes later, I knocked on the door to her room. "Done, Mom!"

No response.

"Mom!"

Nothing. I listened closely at the door.

The shower.

I went in and walked to the master bath door. Knocking, I called out, "Hey, Mom?"

Her voice echoed amongst the tiled walls. I couldn't tell what she said.

"What?" I called to her.

Louder, she yelled, "I said come in! I don't want us screaming at each other!"

I opened the door and walked in. Steam filled the ceiling, and the fluted glass of the shower door showed her naked silhouette, standing under the shower head.

"What is it, baby?"

"Done vacuuming."

"Oh," she said, and her form began moving again. It appeared that her back spun toward me, and then she bent herself in half. Her bottom pushed back and came within fractions an inch of the glass.

I could see the dark line where the halves met, the full curvature of her hips.

She must have been shaving her legs because I faintly saw the shadow of her hand running up the length of her shin and calf.

"Were you attentive and careful?" she asked, her voice still infused with a kind of irritated command.

"Uh-huh."

"Under the bed, too?"

"Yeah."

Mom pivoted to the other leg, and for an instant, her bottom pressed against the glass.

"Good," she responded, "I'll come look when I get out."

"Okay."

"See you in a few minutes."

I turned and left. Before closing the door, I heard her call to me: "Wait!"

Standing in the threshold, I asked, "What's up, Mom?"

"Come here and get my back."

I hesitated.

"Will you?" she asked, and she was almost polite.

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

"Okay. Hang on. Let me...," her voice trailed off without finishing.

I watched her body through the fluted glass. She grabbed a washcloth and faced away from me. She was doing something with it on her back, and then she stopped.

"Okay, you can open the door."

I did; steam swept across me, rushing across my face and over my head. When all cleared, Mom's back was facing me. She had covered her bottom with a sopping washcloth. Being thoroughly wet, the cloth gripped her bottom; a line of indentation ran down its center along the cleft of her two hemispheres. The washcloth wasn't wide enough to cover the wet skin of her curvy hips, shining under the bright shower light.

Mom's face craned around toward me. The side of her fat breast peeked out around her ribcage. "Get the parts I can't reach." She thrust a sudsy, pink shower sponge back to me.

I took it, and she faced the wall, pushing her bottom towards me. Reaching across, I began to scrub her back. The running water struck my outstretched arm. It was very hot.

"Higher, baby. It's tough to reach the behind my shoulders."

I did as she asked, making soft circles.

The water striking my arm was running down to my elbow, and then, cascading from there down to the floor of the shower in an unbroken stream.

There was a golf ball sitting on the drain. I drew in a sharp breath and glanced up at Mom, but her head remained turned away.

"Keep going. Now the middle," she urged because I had stopped when I saw the ball.

As I scrubbed right to left across her, I noticed the stream of water from my elbow approaching her hip. I bent my arm so that I could watch the stream strike her there and splatter off. There was something lurid about it.

It was like a stream of urine, I thought. The sight was like watching myself pee on Mom's bottom.

And she didn't move. She remained still, her bottom thrust out, barely covered by the washcloth, letting the flow drench her. Every so often, she would hum in satisfaction as I made bubbly spirals on her back with the scrubber-sponge.

I wanted to see her butt. I wanted to know what it would look like to see the stream of hot fluid strike her square on those perfect mounds, or even see it flow down the black fissure between.

I moved my elbow over still further, and the rush of water began to super-saturate the already wet washcloth. The weight of it tugged downward. The cloth fattened and shined. It was sopping, and it slipped down a fraction, exposing the first inch of her cleft and the bulging flesh around it.

I retargeted the stream directly into the crack, and the washcloth fell to the floor with a heavy splat.

"Oh, no," Mom muttered.

"Almost done," I blurted. Then, I said, "Or I can get it for you."

"Let me. Turn away."

I did not. I watched as she bent herself in half. Checking a groan halfway up my throat, my body throbbed, and my heart lurched like an anguished beast.

That was too perfect, too beautiful.

I found myself being handed the washcloth, and I draped it over her bottom.

Mom said, "Try to keep the stream of water off of it."

"Okay."

I finished, replaying the image of her naked form, bent utterly in half, in my mind. I closed my eyes and scrubbed.

A minute later, I heard her. "Done?" she asked.

"Yeah."

I opened my eyes. I had let my head sag as I dreamt of her bottom, and I was looking at the shower floor. Something was different.

Her hand appeared before me, interrupting my thoughts. Mom said, "Give me that poof, and you may go."

I handed her the sponge.

As I walked out, I realized it: the golf ball, it was gone.

***

Mom came into my room about ten minutes later in her white bathrobe. Her skin was flushed pink, and she had slicked her wet hair back. She smelled fresh and clean.

"Okay," she said, energetically looking around the room. "Yes." She checked corners and under things—my chair, the hamper. "Alright. Well done. You're free to be lazy." She turned for the door.

"Mom?"

She stopped and turned.

"Ask you something?"

She nodded.

"In the shower before? I saw a golf ball in there, and..." I stopped when I saw her reaction.

Already pink from the heat of her shower, Mom's face turned bright red.

Continuing, I asked, "Did you..."

"Stop!" Mom barked. "Just stop." She glared at me, unmoving, and then turned away.

***

Everyone went out that night—January 1st—except me. Even Mom was out, having planned to get together with some of her work friends.

I watched a few of the big bowl games, and then stayed up late, waiting for people to come home.

No one did. Not even Mom.

She never stayed out this late.

By 2:00am, I gave up and went to bed.

I read until my eyes sagged, and I lost track of my page a few times. Then, I shut off the light and collapsed.

But in the dark, I thought about Mom's bottom. No matter how many times I flipped my pillow or switched sides, I couldn't get comfortable enough to sleep. I couldn't stop remembering.

Switching the light back on, I began to read again. I'd make it through a paragraph, and then my mind wandered off. So, I'd stop and go back to the last thing I remembered reading. Then, I'd start again, only to drift back to those images of her in the shower, on the floor of my room, stretching in her bedroom.

Time dragged, and seeing 3:46am on my clock made me realize how long I'd been trying and failing to sleep.

I got up, went to the bathroom, and then crept over to Mom's door. It was open.

But she wasn't home. It had never happened before—Mom out all night.

Lia and Emma's nights out sometimes ended with them staying at their friend's house. Not unusual, but Mom? Never once.

I trudged back to my room, thinking I'd never fall asleep. I flopped down, sighing.

Then, I woke up. It was just after 10am.

The house was perfectly still.

I rose and saw that newly fallen snow had blanketed the world in white.

On my way to the bathroom, I remembered that today was my last day—my last sample. When I finished cleaning up, I ran downstairs and grabbed a bite to eat. I checked the garage for Mom's car, but it was gone.

Strange. Had she slid of the road somewhere in the snow?

I jogged up the stairs, wondering if I should call her, see if she's okay.

Then, I stopped.

Snoring. I heard snoring.

That was Mom.

I walked over to her room and looked in the open door. She was there, half-covered by her comforter, dead asleep and snoring. Impulses fired within my mind, but I returned to my room.

Grabbing my final sample cup, I climbed into bed. I froze as an image replayed in my head. I whispered, "No."

I thought to call Lia, see if she might come home. Or Emma.

Nah, they had probably been out all night, partying.

Another vision from yesterday flashed in my mind. Maybe, I thought, I could pull Mom's comforter down, just to see her bottom while she slept. It would help me complete my last sperm sample.

Don't do it, I thought. She was pretty upset yesterday.

But, maybe she'll think I'm Dad, again. She's tired.

Don't count on it.

I got up, anyway. I was in athletic shorts, and I slid the sample container inside one of the pockets as I walked to her room.

I waited and listened in the doorway.

I sat on the edge of her bed and waited there, attuned to her every sound and movement.

I slid her comforter down to her waist, and then I stopped to see her reaction.

I pulled the thick blue comforter down over her hips and stopped.

She wasn't wearing panties.

I sucked in a breath, ogling at how the hefty cheeks sloped up from her back in such a beautiful arc.

I drew the comforter completely off her. She didn't move.

I rose and slipped out of my shorts, tossing them on the bed beside us.

Mom was on her tummy, head turned away from me. Gingerly, I climbed on and studied her body. My heart ached with desire at what I saw.

I straddled her on my hands and knees, and from that position, I bent down and watched how my penis and testicles hung over the rising hills of her bottom. I wasn't hard, yet. I dipped my groin down, letting the head of my penis lightly graze her warm flesh. I rested the front portion of the shaft in the valley between those swelling cheeks. It began to throb and grow.

Before it got too firm, I let the tip rest right in the spot where her legs met her bottom. She was so soft and smooth there, and I continued to harden. The head of my penis seemed to fill the space and begin spreading her apart. I felt where her two cheeks met almost hugging my penis before it lurched up, out of the gap and pointed along the length of her spine. To resume, I would have to crank it down with my hand.

Instead, I lowered myself, letting my testicles graze the silky skin and bump across each hilltop. I let them rest in the gap, where the tip of my penis had been. My erection rode softly along the little dark depression where her two halves met. Before long, my scrotum tightened.

Still apparently sleeping soundly, I glanced up, along Mom's unblemished back towards her face, wondering what I could and should do.

I thought about masturbating. Perhaps I could ejaculate on her bottom, and then somehow scoop it into the jar. Seeing the splashes and quivering pools of semen on each fat, curvy cheek might be something. Would I wake her doing it? Would she come around when I cleaned it off? What if I got some on her bed?

And what about seeing it on her anus? It was crazy to even imagine. If I thought I might get caught doing it on her bottom, how much more likely on her anus? I would have to pry her apart. I envisioned the tip firing at it, coating and drenching the taut hole.

Thinking these things made me want to see it. I had to.

I sat up and softly scooted back so that my core was over the back of her knees. I leaned down, close to her, put my hands on each thick swath of flesh, and gently separated them.

What I saw made me swallow a groan.

Mom's little pink spot, and the area around it in a radius of about an inch and a half, shined with petroleum jelly lubricant.

Without even thinking, I pushed my index finger inside her.

She hummed, and I pushed further.

Then, I stopped.

Was this lube from last night? Some escapade with a boyfriend I didn't know about? Was I about to dip my finger in some other guy's semen?

I began to draw it out, but before I finished, Mom moaned. The sound warmed and thrilled me because it slipped from her lips tentatively, almost shyly.

I suppressed a smile, forgetting for the moment about some possible other guy, and pushed my finger deeper.

Then, I drew it out rapidly, stunned.

What the? My finger had touched something hard, something man-made.

I glanced up at Mom, and her eyes pinched shut. Her jaw fell open. Her body tensed.

I looked down.

I heard her gasp.

Her anus twitched, and then I saw it. The slick, white and puckered face of a golf ball began appearing. Her pink ring blanched as the ball stretched it wide.

Mom panted twice, and then let out a swelling cry.

The ball slid free of her and rolled down to the bed between her legs.

Alternately watching her face and her bottom, I remained still, utterly astonished. Mom's face relaxed, and her body seemed to melt into the mattress. Natural breathing resumed.

I plucked the little white sphere from between her thighs and spread her apart. Her hole glistened with lubricant, and I pressed the ball against her, feeling her muscle resist it. Then, gradually, her body began to allow passage.

I drew it out when I heard Mom draw in a breath.
Then, I did it again. When I pulled it out, I rubbed circles around her anus with it, and then tossed it aside.

I wanted to put my penis inside her. I wanted to mount her. Maybe, if I went slowly enough, I could do it.

My heart raced at the recklessness of the plan.

I repositioned my body so that my erection pointed more directly into her. I slid my penis into the dark line. I edged the tip forward until it made contact with her little puncture.

Mom didn't stir.

The sheer mass of her bottom sandwiched the front of my erection in slick warmth. I groaned. Still holding the base, I spun circles around her little spot with the tip. It glistened with lubricant when I drew it out to see.

I rose up, took a deep breath, and gazed down at the perfect curves. I took hold of my erection, and I guided it towards her anus.

The tip made contact, and the little muscular ring was pliant and ready, already opening for me. I added pressure as gradually as I could, always watching Mom's face. Shortly, her bottom began resisting me, and I could make no more progress. I paused for a moment, squeezing my eyes shut. I held my breath and gave a stronger push.

I gasped, and my eyes shot open at the sensation. The tip was fully inside her. At last, after all those times together when I had wanted to, after being mesmerized by her bottom all day yesterday, I had finally put my erection in Mom's anus. It was thrilling. Goosebumps rose on my legs, the hair on my arms sprouted up. I felt a surge of pleasure and strength flow through me.

Mom's eyebrows pinched and she emitted a short, plaintive moan. The sound was arrestingly beautiful. I froze.

I froze out of fear, but not entirely. I dared not move my penis, for I was suddenly on the brink of an explosive orgasm. The feeling was perfect and shockingly debilitating. I trembled while I breathed, and, after what seemed like forever, the orgasm fever began to ebb.

Then, Mom moved. She shifted her bottom—a tiny resettling of herself. Her anus slid fractionally back and forth along the shaft. It was over. The surges, drawing up my semen and loading it for release, ensued.

I bit my wrist. I knew I should pull out and grab the cup—which was still in my shorts pocket—but I also understood that I needed to do it instantly. The act would be sudden and forceful; it would certainly alert or wake her. On the other hand, I figured I probably wouldn't wake her if I just left it in. There was so little time to decide. In the end, I let the ecstasy of ejaculating inside her win out.

I clenched my eyes shut and, grunting into my wrist, inseminated Mom's buttocks. My penis contracted and lurched as it filled her bottom with sperm. Mom moaned softly each time my penis flexed inside her.

When it ended and I opened my eyes, she hadn't yet moved, but I knew I had just created a whole host of problems.

My entire sample was lost inside her anus. Surely, when she regained consciousness, she would notice. I couldn't lie and tell her that it was only the golf ball when her bottom was full of semen. Even if somehow she didn't feel it inside her, she would surely ask me about the sample, maybe even check the jar in the freezer. And, at some point, it would all come out of her body.

I needed a sample. Before she woke, I needed to arouse myself and masturbate.

To do that, I needed my penis, and it was still twitching inside her bottom. I didn't want to wake her by pulling it out. I needed to wait for my erection to diminish.

So, I left it inside her, my brain still reeling from the crippling intensity of the orgasm. I caught my breath.

Guilt invaded me during the lull.

I had taken Mom, mounted her anally, while she slept. I had ejaculated inside her bottom, wasting my semen, and fouling up her number one priority—getting the sample. I glanced down. My penis was still in her butthole.

I looked over and saw my shorts. I picked them up and drew out my last container, wondering what I would do. Unscrewing the lid, I knew Mom was going to be hysterical with rage when she found out I lost the specimen.

I felt my erection deflating inside her. It suddenly slipped out, almost as if it had been ejected.

Reflexively, I lowered the cup to catch what followed.

Nothing. Not a drop.

I lifted the cup away from her, mumbling a curse.

She still hadn't moved.

What could I do?

I gently spread her legs and put myself between them. Still grasping the cup, I spread her bottom apart with my other hand.

I dipped a finger inside her, hoping it might trigger something.

Nothing.

I swallowed.

I could jerk off a few times. But, what if she checked the freezer before I had the chance?

Dang it.

I took a deep breath, and I whispered, "Beth?"

"Mmm?" she muttered, rolling slightly to her side.

"I...I need you to push—to push it out."

"Mmm." She rolled back.

I was about to speak again when I saw her body tense. I opened her bottom with two fingers and saw the muscle begin to work.

She moaned.

A torrent of semen followed, and I uttered a stunned gasp, thrusting the cup underneath the flow. I didn't expect this. It streamed over the lip and into the jar like a little creamy river.

She pinched off the flow, and then, with a drowsy whimper, she pushed again.

More followed.

When the flow ceased, I looked into the jar. It was a big sample.

I softly pushed my finger inside her, wiggling it from side to side. When I pulled it out, more of my semen followed. I let it flow into the container and gathered the rest on my finger, wiping it off on the lip.

I tried using my finger again, but nothing emerged. Then, I remembered what Mom had taught me: there was more inside me. But, feeling reckless, I decided I didn't want it for the cup.

I massaged the half-hard shaft until I was able to get a fat drop to emerge on the tip. This, I wiped on her, leaving a plump dab of semen on her anus. It looked so sexy there, I grinned.

I screwed the lid on the jar and sighed.

Mom continued to sleep.

I covered Mom with her comforter and left to put my final sample in the freezer.

A minute later, I walked out of the kitchen, listening for any sound that might indicate she was awake.

Nothing.

Still asleep.

I walked toward the family room, but stopped at the threshold.

Something wasn't right.

It didn't make sense, I realized, that Mom had been sleeping. Could she really have slept through what I had done?

***

She got up around noon and passed by me in the family room without uttering a word. I heard her open the freezer. Afterward, she walked over and stood, looking at me.

I was wrapped in my blanket on the couch. I glanced at her.

"Emma or Lia back yet?" she asked.

"No."

"I need to pick up my car. I'm going to call one of them," she said.

I nodded.

"All done with your samples, I see."

I nodded.

"Thank you for seeing it through to the end."

I nodded and turned back to the tv.

"Doctor's appointment tomorrow," she added. "I'll take you in."

"Okay."

She knocked on the wall. I looked at her.

"Family dinner tonight, okay?"

"Yeah."

She left.

***

That evening we all ate supper together. It was like always—talking about me as if I weren't there. It was different, too.

Mom kicked off the awkwardness by telling the story she had told me a few nights before—the story of her pregnancies and our father's infidelity with Aunt Blair.

I watched Lia and Emma. Their faces grew dark as they listened. Any iota of sympathy they had for Blair appeared to vanish. When Mom explained that she forgave Blair, the girls trembled as if ready to detonate, but Mom explained her rationale. They listened, and I think they understood—maybe disagreed, but understood.

Then, it got even more weird.

Mom said, "For almost 15 years I haven't dated or had sex—not until recently, of course. At first, it was because I wanted to remain faithful to your father, even though he hadn't done so for me. Then, as it became clear he was never coming back, I suppose I did it out of spite—to show him—myself, really— that I didn't need sex to function, that I could control myself. I thought I had it all together—and for many years, I did. Then, your brother needed his samples."

Emma and Lia glanced at me.

"I completely lost control," Mom explained. "I told myself I was just helping him learn, but that isn't true. I was satisfying my own desires. They had been pent-up for so long; I think they just exploded." She sighed. "I began performing fellatio on him, and I let him touch my vagina and give me cunnilingus. Then, on the night after Blair left, I let him mount me vaginally."

I felt my face turning the color of maraschino cherries.

"I lashed out at him and myself—you all know what happened. Then, of course, we all found out what occurred with Blair when she examined him." She stopped, composing herself. "I thought I was going to lose my son the same way I had lost his father. At dinner, when he told us that he as going to leave..." She didn't finish.

She sighed, and her eyes grew glassy.

"What you may not know is that on the same night—the night he told us he was leaving, your brother visited me in the middle of the night. He'd had a change of heart about leaving. He told me he loved me, and he said that I would never lose him."

She reached out and squeezed my hand.

"It meant the world to me to hear those words. He held me close, and I began to drift off. I felt like I was dreaming, like all those years that your father had been gone had never happened, like he was there with me again. We made love. I knew it was your brother, but I imagined and believed in my heart that it was your father. Does that make any sense?" She scanned the girls, and their faces looked—to me, at least—as if they were trying to understand, but having difficulty.

"I'm not sure I understand it, myself. I...I needed him to be your father. I called him 'Jake;' he called me 'Beth.' It was one of the most beautiful sexual experiences of my life. That was three nights ago." She wiped her eyes.

"I encouraged your brother to visit me again, and he did—two nights ago. He was Jake, and I was Beth. I brought him to completion with my mouth; it was lovely."

She cleared her throat before continuing.

"But the next day I was angry with myself...with your brother. I...I was snippy with him, and I teased him. I was cruel to him to make myself feel better. Later, I felt so conflicted and guilty that, when I went out, I...I got intoxicated for the first time in ages. I'm not proud of it. This morning, while I pretended to sleep, your brother, he...he came into my room and he...I let him use my bottom to obtain his final sample."

Here, Mom wiped her eyes and sniffled. "Now, I cannot judge any of you. I'm in no position, but I know that the three of you have been exploring your sexuality with one another. I hope that you've made good decisions. I'm not here to ask you to stop. But, I must beg you with all of my heart," she said with a quavering voice, gesturing to Lia and Emma, "not to fall in love with your brother. Experiment and learn, okay. Pleasure one another, if you must. Be safe, always. But, please do not let your sexual enjoyment of one another lead to true love."

She began to cry.

"I know I'm a failure as a mother, but don't make my failure into a tragedy by falling in love."

Lia and I exchanged a glance.

Emma responded first. She was passionate. "You're not a failure, Mom! You're amazing with all you've been through. Maybe we're different, but it doesn't mean you've failed. You're a good Mom."

Of us all, Em got in the most fights with Mom. It could not have been easy for her to say those words.

Lia backed Emma up. "We love you. Nothing that has happened changes that, Mom."

I nodded. "You're awesome, Mom."

Mom smiled and sobbed with joy. She reached out and held our hands in turn. She turned to Lia and Emma, saying, "You're all so kind and beautiful. I couldn't be more proud of you all."

She cleared her throat, wiping her eyes. "When I think about how others might view what I've done, I feel ashamed, but the truth of it is that, to me, it's been wonderful."

This was directed at Lia and Emma. Emma nodded. Lia said, "People would say that it's gross, and I...I guess I have to admit that the idea of it seems gross, but being there..."

"I know," Mom agreed, "'Being there' changes it. I could never in a million years have imagined myself performing oral sex on my son or allowing him to perform it on me. Never. But, being there next to him—seeing how my body excited him—changed the way I felt."

Lia nodded.

Mom continued, "And I should probably be ashamed to admit this, but Lia, watching you stroke his penis—that first time—was one of the most erotic things I've ever seen."

Emma finally spoke. "I watched him and Lia, too, and it was super hot." Then, she said, "And I heard you and him on the stairs, Mom. I saw that, too."

"Oh, dear, what you must have thought of me—think of me," Mom sighed, shaking her head.

"No. No. Like you said, it was totally erotic."

"It was?" Mom asked, almost childlike.

Emma nodded.

Mom smiled.

An uncomfortable lull passed, none of us saying anything. Then, Mom took a deep breath and said, "Girls, can I ask something of you?"

They waited, listening.

"May I watch you with your brother sometime?"

I sat there, shocked.

She continued, explaining, "I know it's asking a lot. But, it's not something a mother ever gets to see-her beautiful children, enjoying one another's bodies."

No one responded.

Mom shyly asked, "So...may I?"

Lia and Emma exchanged a glance. A beat passed, and then they turned back to Mom.

"Sure," Emma said.

"Okay," Lia agreed.

"But, who do you want to see with him, me or her?" Emma asked.

"Both of you, if that's okay," Mom said.

"Together, you mean? A threesome?" Emma asked.

"Why, I don't...do you...have you done that?" Mom asked, surprised.

"Once," Emma said.

"That's...that would be something to see, but I don't think I'm quite ready for that. I was thinking of something more simple."

Lia suddenly suggested, "Emma, you go first." After Lia said it, she glanced at me, and her eyes were pleading.

I quickly said, "Yeah, that's fine."

Emma shrugged and nodded. "Okay."

"Alright," Mom agreed, "When would be a good time for you, Emma?"

"Is now okay?"

"Oh! Oh, no, dear, we should wait until after your brother's appointment tomorrow morning."

"That's tomorrow?"

Mom nodded.

Emma shrugged, again. "Okay."

***

Later that night, Lia waited everyone out in the family room to talk to me. Once Mom and Emma had gone up to bed, she shuffled over to me on her knees.

Her big brown eyes turned to me. "I'm sorry, fuzzy boy."

"What for?"

"That I told Mom it should be you and Emma."

"Oh. Yeah, why did you do that?"

Lia swallowed and said, "I didn't want her to see me with you. I didn't want her to know."

I shook my head, confused.

"I didn't want her to see this," she said, and she leaned her face to mine.

Then, we were kissing. It was sudden and energized. I couldn't stop myself.

Still locked together, I pulled her body off the floor, rolled on my back, and held her on top of me. Her hands rubbed my head; mine gripped her bottom. Lia whimpered gently, and then she broke away.

Looking into my eyes, she said, "Do you see? See why she can't watch us together?"

I got it. I understood. I said, "Yeah." When we kissed, we really kissed. Mom would freak out, thinking we were in love.

"Let me under your blanket?" she asked. I did, and she snuggled close. "What will you do with Em tomorrow?"

"I don't know," I said, gripping her bottom again, massaging it through her yoga pants.

"Make love?"

"Probably."

She sighed. "I'm jealous."

"Huh? Why?"

"Because I want it to be me."

"I'm sorry, Lia."

Her head was on its side, cheek against my chest. She laid there, relaxing.

I slid my hands under her pants and panties, feeling the warm fullness of her butt. My penis began responding. Listening to Lia's soft breathing, I slid my middle finger through the crevasse until the tip rested on her anus. I left it there.

Lia's breasts pressed down on my tummy. Her bottom lifted, and her little hole pushed against my finger, wiggling for a moment, and then her body slackened. She wanted it inside her.

I pushed my finger into her bottom. Lia moaned quietly. So, I pushed it in further.

She relaxed on me, eyes closed.

I drew my middle finger back, and then slowly plunged it in.

Lia sighed, muttering, "That feels nice."

Rocking my hand slowly and gently, I fingered her bottom.

"Why do you like butts so much?" she asked.

I thought about the question. Then, I said, "Your butt is beautiful. Sexy. And, it's a part of you that is secret and hidden, so I want to see it and touch it."

"What about when you lick it and when we have anal sex?"

"Guess seeing and touching aren't enough. It's like I just want to know everything about you. I just want all of you, Lia."

She considered this in silence.

I went on, saying, "Could say the same things about your other hidden parts, you know? On your butt, though, it's also like I'm not supposed to. We're not supposed to, and that makes me want it more."

She said, "I like that you like it. Makes me feel like...I don't know...you don't think I'm gross. You...you think all of me is sexy."

"True. All of you is."

Even though her face was turned from me, I could sense her smiling. A minute or so later, she said, "Can I tell you something I fantasize about?"

"Hmm?"

"Ever since that first time that you put it in my bottom, I have this dream about being in bed together with you. It's late at night. We're naked and snuggled together under one of your big, fuzzy blankets. You're behind me, and your penis is in my butt. You ejaculate inside me, and we fall asleep like that—joined together. And when I wake up, your penis is still right there, still inside me. You make love to me again and you ejaculate, and we just stay like that, all day, linked together and you keep filling my body with semen. Is that gross?"

"No. Sounds nice."

"I think about it with regular sex, too. But, it's hotter when I dream about it being anal sex for some reason."

I kept quiet.

She broke the silence, saying, "I just want to be connected with you all the time."

The way Lia responded to sex made me curious. I wondered why she had been a virgin for so long. "Hey, Lia?"

"Yeah?"

"Why don't you have a boyfriend?"

"You want me to have one?"

"Come on, you know what I mean."

"Like before this Christmas?"

I nodded.

She laid her cheek back down on my chest and sighed. A few seconds later, she began, "Boys were nasty to me in high school. Some girls, too. I know people were dating and having sex and stuff, but I didn't really think about it much. I guess I decided they were all stupid and going to get pregnant. It wasn't really until college that I decided I was missing out on something."

"Date anybody?"

"Yeah a little, and I went to some parties, but..."

"What?"

"I got scared," she said.

"Why?"

"Maybe because everything you see and hear about in the media makes sex seem like such a big deal. It gets built up so much, you know?"

"Yeah."

"And I never felt beautiful like other girls. I felt like I was an ugly, fat little dwarf and that boys really didn't want me. Plus, everyone around me seemed to have so much experience. I thought I wouldn't be any good, that I'd embarrass myself or something."

"Know none of that's true, right?"

She looked up at me and smiled. Then, she said, "By my third year, I kind of just gave up, figured I'd be an old maid, decided I'd be asexual. It just seemed easier that way."
"And how do you feel now?"

She grinned, "You mean with your finger in my little butthole?"

"No," I began, smiling along with her. "I mean about..."

She didn't let me finish. "Good. Feels really good." She pushed back against me, and my finger plunged until it could go no further.

"You know what I mean," I insisted.

"Happy," she said. "I'm just really, really happy."

I continued fingering her, enjoying how her muscle clutched and rode along each knuckle. My erection surged underneath her tummy. Using my other hand, I lifted her body higher on mine so that the front of my penis nestled firmly against the crotch of her pants. She relaxed into this new position, letting my finger slide back and forth in her bottom and gently grinding her vagina against the tip of my erection.

"Oh my gosh, that's hard," she murmured. She quit moving and looked at me. "I want to play with it. Can I?"

"With what? My penis?"

She nodded.

"Let me play with your bottom?"

"Okay, " she said.

A few moments later, Lia was naked from the waist down, sitting on my chest with her bottom facing me. She bent down to my penis. I was totally naked, laying on the couch under her.

For the next ten minutes or so, we played with each other—she with my penis and testicles, me with her anus and vagina.

I wondered if she felt the same way that I did. I was like a kid with a strange new toy. I wasn't alone there on the couch, but it seemed that way because her body engrossed me. I just became lost in my own little world.

It was sexual, of course, but it didn't seem that way. It was more like learning and, as I mentioned, playing. Neither of us was in a rush to give the other—or ourselves—an orgasm.

Neither of us spoke. I quietly trusted her to let me do my thing with her vagina and her anus while she did hers with my penis.

I felt some strange things going on down there between my legs. She must have, too, but I knew she wasn't going to judge me. I knew she wasn't going to stop me.

I explored her body there with every sense. The longer I played with it, the more I liked it and wanted it. Everything about it attracted me: the smell, the taste, and the feel of it, inside and out, on my fingers and my tongue. I liked how it looked when it was relaxed and when I opened her wide. I marveled at the sight of my fingers inside her. The wet and sticky sounds thrilled me whenever I fingered, rubbed, kissed, sucked, and licked it.

I wondered if other girls were like Lia. Do others give their bodies so freely?

I felt Lia's hand cupping my scrotum. Her face rested on my leg, and she sucked one of my testicles almost casually, it seemed.

With both hands, I opened Lia's bottom wide. Flattening my tongue, I slowly dragged it over her vagina and her anus. I liked it so much that I did it exactly the same way again. And again. I decided that I wanted to see if Lia could have an orgasm from long, slow licks. It was like a self-assigned challenge.

I was a machine. My neck grew sore. My stomach muscles cramped, but I never stopped. My tongue started feeling heavy, but I never stopped.

I have no idea how much time passed before Lia's lips let my testicle slip out, and she simply rested on my thigh. It was even longer until her breathing became rhythmic. My entire body was aching when I heard her first moan. By the end, my muscles were trembling, and I was sticky with perspiration, but Lia helped. She sat back on my face and gyrated her vagina on my tongue to finish herself off.

I was so exhausted I didn't want to move. I shut my eyes and sighed.

Without a word, she spun around and began to kiss me. Between, she told me she loved me. She told me she wished we had more time together. She said she wanted her own apartment and that she wanted me living there, always wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket on her couch. Her voice wavered a little when she told me how happy I made her.

I gave her a tired smile, and she slid down between my legs. My eyes were still closed. I murmured, "Oh, Lia," when I felt her mouth around my erection.

I focused on the sensation. The deep feeling of relaxation she was giving me. The wetness of her mouth. The sticky, slurping sounds that her fellatio always included.

I heard her sniffle.

I heard it again and opened my eyes.

She was looking up at me. Her jaw was agape, and my shining, wet penis stretched through her lips. She was crying.

"Lia?"

She shook her head, still clasping my penis with her lips, and two hanging tears dropped from her eyelashes.

"Lia, tell me what's wrong."

She grabbed my penis and drew her lips from it with a smack. Her voice cracked when she said, "I'm just happy is all."

I smiled at her, caressed her hair and said, "Me too."

She put my erection back into her mouth and, watching me, continued. Tears continued running down her face, landing in my pubic hairs.

More fell to her cheeks when I whispered, "I love you, Lia."

Still, her head rose and fell, and her lips glided up and down.

I held her head, gently massaging her scalp and feeling the lush, full curls between my fingers.

Lia sniffed, and her eyes were red and glassy, watching me when I took in a deep breath. I groaned. Semen spilled from me in what felt like great gushes.

It may have had something to do with how she had sucked it—with such tender emotion. I'm not sure, but for whatever reason, my orgasm felt almost like the opposite of what I was used to. Instead of rapid, pulsing contractions, I felt slow squeezes, each lasting a second, and felt sperm pouring out of me for the entire second. Then, another second would elapse while my body regrouped. Afterward, another long gush of ejaculate. Over and over, this happened.

Lia hummed, and it had the aspect of surprise, even alarm. She grasped my penis and quickly drew her lips off, gulping down all my penis had given and gasping for breath. I watched the plum head of my erection expand in her fist, and then my penis launched a salvo that cascaded across Lia's tearful face. Another fired onto her lips, and the remainder spilled from the tip and down over her knuckles.

She watched it flow, tugging at my erection a few final times before glancing up at me. She smiled, and she was stunningly beautiful. Even more so, I thought, because of the joyful tears and the semen that intermingled there and dripped from her cheeks and lips.

***

At the follow-up appointment the next morning, after all the regular check-up stuff was complete, I was surprised to find out that, if I wanted, I could wait just forty-five minutes or so for my results. The lab was in the building; they were expecting my samples. It was a relatively simple test. I decided to wait.

When the nurse called me back in, Mom squeezed my hand. She was more nervous than me, it seemed.

I waited another couple of minutes in the examination room before the doctor entered.

"Okay. Your sperm has almost no motility—it's not swimming. This, we call asthenozoospermia—I know, you don't want to try to spell it—but it's almost certainly due to your acute HFI."

"So, I can't have babies?"

"No! No, not at all. I'm sorry. Here, let me explain." She sat down beside me with a male reproductive diagram. "Low or no seminal fructose is almost always the result of problems with the vas deferens—here. See?"

I nodded.

"You—good news—don't have that problem. Your vas deferens is fine. Now, men with HFI—like you—only very rarely have low seminal fructose issues. The digestive system doesn't tolerate fructose consumption, but outside of the digestive system, your body can use other natural means to produce it and give your sperm motility. Understand?" She watched me carefully after she said this.

I was about to say something, but she interrupted.

"The body is a good chemistry lab, in other words. It can make what your sperm needs. Make sense?"

"Think so."

She set down the diagram and continued, "You're an exception. Your HFI is so acute that your body doesn't have the...the ingredients, so to speak, to produce fructose."

"Oh."

"So, to make you fertile, there is a very simple solution: zinc therapy."

"Zinc?"

She nodded. "It's a course of pills. That's all. You take the pills."

"So..." I began, but I didn't complete the thought. This didn't sound bad.

The doctor saw the look on my face. "It means exactly what you think it means. When you want to have children, you begin zinc therapy. When you don't, you quit the zinc pills. It's like a birth control pill, but for you, it's in reverse: you take the pills when you wish to have children." She waited for me to respond.

I couldn't. It sounded like a really good deal—too good to be true.

She smiled. "Many men really end up liking this diagnosis because it enables them to control their own fertility."

I nodded. "Yeah." A thought occurred to me. "What if I end up eating a lot of zinc somehow, like, in a vitamin or something?"

"A daily multivitamin doesn't have nearly the amount of zinc required to elevate your seminal fructose levels."

"Huh," I said, in awe of this new power over my own body.

The doctor's face grew stern. "Now, just because you have this control over your fertility does not mean that you shouldn't be protecting yourself from STD's." She went on about the dangers of promiscuity and not wearing condoms.

I half-listened, nodding like a good boy when it seemed the appropriate time. The other half of me pondered the opportunities.

When she finished, I asked if she could explain it to my Mom for me. I went into the waiting room while Mom went in and spoke with her.

When Mom came out, I could tell that she'd been crying—out of relief.

We went home, and Mom, once she got over her fits of tears, seemed genuinely happy.

Over lunch, she told the girls about my seminal fructose, and when she made it clear to Emma and Lia how I could take charge of my own fertility, she spoke differently. There was the tiniest hint of excitement in Mom's voice.

And Emma winked at me.

And Lia gave me a shy smile.

***

Emma summoned me to her room in the afternoon to explain what she had in mind for our "sex show for Mom."

"I want you to stand here," she said, taking my shoulders and guiding me to her bed.

"Standing?"

"Yes," she said, firmly. "Mom and Lia get to watch from the doorway, okay?"

I nodded.

"I'm going to do a striptease for you."

"Really? In front of Mom?"

"Hell, yes. I don't care what she thinks," Emma said off-handedly. "Anyways, I'll start touching you, and when I feel that you're hard, I'm going to drop your pants and suck your dick—deep. I want them to see how I can get almost all of this fucker—" She clutched my crotch. "—down my throat."

I nodded. "That it?"

"No. When I'm ready, I'll lay down and...hang on." She tapped her chin with her index finger, thinking. Then, she turned to me. "What would be the dirtiest way for Mom to see us fucking?"

"Uh, behind you, maybe? Or, you on top?"

Her eyes flashed. "Yes! I'll lay you down and then get on top and ride your cock."

"What about when I climax?"

She nodded. "You have to tell me, and then I'll climb off you and get on my knees." She grinned and clapped her hands together. "I'm going to jerk you off on my face!"

I watched her excitement, unsure about her plan, myself. Finally, I asked, "Sure you want to do this in front of Mom?"

"Fuck, yes, I'm sure. It'll be so hot."

She seemed pretty confident. I said, "Okay."

She kicked me out so that she could get ready.

***

An hour later, Em called me up from the downstairs couch.

She had pulled her tight red curls against her head and bound up her locks in two high buns on the back of her head. Her face was made up beyond anything I'd ever seen her do in a long time. It was slightly more slutty than elegant. She wore heels, a short denim mini-skirt, and a white, low neckline spaghetti-strap tank top that showed massive cleavage.

"Look good, Em."

"Thanks," she said, and she gave me a quick hug. Her body felt cool.

I waited in her room, standing beside the bed, while she fetched Mom and Lia.

I heard Mom's voice on the stairs, saying something about if Emma was sure it's okay. I couldn't hear her response.

Emma led them into her room. "You two can just...," Emma stopped and swallowed. "Just stand right here." Her voice had a faint quaver.

She was nervous.

Mom saw me and looked away. She must have been nervous, too.

Lia caught my eye and gave me a sweet, sad smile.

Standing in the center of her room, Emma seemed like she was in a little arena. She turned to Mom and Lia. "Ground Rules," she said. "First, no interruptions. You're just watching. If you don't like it you can go, but don't...". Em's voice caught in her throat. She swallowed, drily it seemed, before continuing. "Don't say anything."

Mom and Lia nodded.

Emma took a gulp of air, and her voice still quavered as she spoke. "Second, sometimes I curse during...during sex. Deal with it."

Her last words seemed meant to come out firmly, but they didn't. Her volume faded, and the words were airy. She sounded anything but confident.

The air in her room felt hot on my face. I was starting to get nervous for Emma.

Mom said, "Okay, dear."

Lia didn't say anything. She glanced at me, and, having my attention, she bent her eyes toward Emma. Quickly, her eyes fixed, again, on mine and she made a subtle "What's up with her?" expression.

I responded with the tiniest shrug.

Emma faced me, and her cheeks were flushed pink. Where she wasn't pink, she was pasty-pale. Her eyes seemed huge. Her expression was like a person who'd just been in a major near-miss car accident.

I tried to nod reassuringly.

She pursed her lips into a kind of semi-smile. It vanished when she closed her eyes, sighed, and then began to dance.

It was a horrific attempt at sexiness. There was no music. She danced in silence, and she had not a shred of confidence. Everything was tentative and inhibited. Shallow and stiff in her every movement, Emma's body seemed constricted. She looked at me like she wished she'd never started. When she spun to show me her bottom, she faced Mom and Lia, and she suddenly stopped and turned back to me.

Her face was crimson. Her eyes radiated fear and shame, and they slowly rose to meet mine. Her body visibly sunk where she stood.

The entire room felt empty and hollow. The low drone of the vent buzzed. When I breathed in, the air was dry and hot in my nose.

I thought, if I were Emma right now, I'd be begging for someone to send a bullet through my head. My heart pounded against my chest as we stared at one another.

Every second felt like a minute.

I don't know how she did it, but she started dancing again. Only now, she couldn't even look at me, she was just staring at the floor. Her movements were even smaller, even more constrained and hesitant.

She lasted about fifteen seconds, and then she just stopped. She brought her hands up and covered her scarlet face.

This was one of those moments, I thought, that never get forgotten. It was a humiliation so deep and so complete, I knew Emma might never show her face in our house again.

I needed to do something, but I was frozen by the gaping distress in her eyes, the plunging depth of her shame.

I never saw Lia walk up behind her. She turned Emma to face her and wrapped her arms around Emma's nearly crumpled form. Lia held her and swayed gently—danced, really.

I glanced at Mom. Her eyes were red with tears, and she covered her mouth with one of her hands.

Lia lifted Emma's chin. Emma's eyes, pleading and glassy, stared at her older sister. Lia kissed Emma's forehead, then each crimson, tear-stained cheek, and then her lips. It was a full, beautiful kiss. When she broke away, Emma's face looked astonished. Lia beamed at her, and the fear in Emma's face vanished.

Mom let out a joyful, tearful burst. Her hands were joined together over her heart.

My sisters didn't even notice the sound. Emma bent towards Lia, kissing her, and it seemed as if all of that shame flooded out of her. Her body uncurled. The sound of her breath, wafting out through her nose was like a burst of fresh air. Lia's hand slid up Emma's back, along her neck, and settled, cradling Emma's head. Their heads tilted, and they swayed and kissed for half a minute.

Emma spoke when they drew apart. Their faces were separated by an inch or two, and they stared into each other's eyes. Emma whispered, "Thank you." It was so faint that I doubt Mom heard it.

Lia smiled, nodded, and murmured, "Beautiful and sexy." Her hands slid across and under Emma's breasts, lifting them. They kissed again.

When it ended, Lia led Emma over to me. Lia gave me Emma's hand and stood beside us. I drew Emma close, gently cupped her face, and kissed her. Lia rubbed our backs.

Emma's tongue dipped tentatively between my lips, so I gave her mine, fully. She caressed my tongue with hers before pulling away. I turned to Lia and took her hand.

Lia smiled, touched my cheek softly, and then I kissed her. Emma's fingers closed around my wrist and she brought it up to Lia's breast. I held it. I stroked and squeezed it.

Not wearing any underwear, I felt my sweatpants begin to tent. Emma walked behind me. Her breasts grazed my back, and her fingers curled under my shirt and drew it up. I let her raise it up and pull it off me, momentarily breaking my kiss with Lia.

Lia's fingers delved into my chest hairs when our lips rejoined. Reaching around my body, Emma's little hands joined Lia's on my chest.

I briefly glanced at the room. Mom had maneuvered inside. I saw her off to my right, watching us as if we were some strange and beautiful new creature in her house.

Emma must have gone to her knees; she drew my sweatpants down and over my growing erection.

Then, I felt something—Emma's lips on my bottom and her fingertips on my penis. I gasped, and Lia drew back from my lips to see. She grinned at me.

I took the opportunity to remove Lia's shirt. She unlatched her bra, and I took one of her nipples into my mouth while she cradled my head.

Emma continued kissing my bottom, moving her lips to each side, high and low, sometimes pressing her lips gently, other times latching to my flesh and sucking.

I switched breasts on Lia. She softly stroked my hair.

Emma's fingers lightly fondled my scrotum. I drew off Lia's nipple and glanced at my penis.

I was incredibly hard. I wanted Emma to put it in her mouth, but there was something I wanted more. I pulled Emma to her feet and brought her together with Lia.

They kissed, and I took off Emma's top. There was no bra. Lia and Emma cupped each other's breasts. In turn, I stepped behind both girls and stripped their bottoms off. The three of us were completely naked.

Mom sat on the edge of the bed, watching with one hand over her heart and one covering her mouth. I caught her eye and waved her to me.

She seemed surprised and shook her head.

I went over to her and reached out.

She glanced at my penis as it hovered, pointing at her face. She looked up at me and whispered, "No, baby, I couldn't."

I took her hand and she rose, letting me guide. Escorting her towards Lia and Emma, I put her hands on Lia's back. Hesitantly, she touched the skin. I walked behind Mom, letting my erection poke her bottom. I swept her hair from her neck and began to kiss her and knead her breasts through her shirt.

Over her shoulder, I watched Lia and Emma continue to kiss. Mom's hands swept up and down Lia's back. I took one of Mom's wrists and led it to Lia's bottom. She drew her fingers together over the full curve of Lia's butt once, twice, three times. Then, she put both hands on it and squeezed.
I undressed Mom. She didn't resist. While I slid her panties down her legs, I watched her lean toward Lia and plant a delicate kiss on her back. Lia turned and smiled at her.

I rose and stepped around to where Lia and Emma were. The three of us took in Mom's body. Mom waited nervously. Her huge breasts, angled out from her chest, rose and fell.

I led Lia to the one on the left. I raised Mom's breast, and Lia hesitated. She looked at me, and then she looked at Mom.

Mom closed her eyes.

Lia accepted the breast with her lips and nursed upon it.

When I turned to Emma, she was already moving towards Mom. She took Mom's other breast with both hands and brought it to her mouth. Mom's jaw fell open.

Moving behind Lia and Emma, one at a time, I guided one of their hands to the other's vagina. Hesitantly at first, they began to rub and finger one another.

I walked around them, behind Mom, and went to my knees. Prying her bottom apart, I put my tongue against her labia, wiggled it between, and began to lick. I knew instantly she was wet enough, so I pushed two fingers inside of her.

Emma and Lia moaned into Mom's breasts, but Mom...she seemed to be in a state of absolute bliss—lips tugging and sucking on each nipple, a tongue on her clitoris, and two fingers thrusting up into her vagina. Breathing deeply, she started making a kind of "hnn" sound, but before long, she repeatedly called out, "Oh!"

My free hand held her thigh, and I noticed it trembling. I quit and rose behind her. Drawing her from Lia and Emma, I led her to the bed and sat her down at the edge. Then, I eased her back so that her body lay crosswise and her feet were on the floor. I spread her knees apart. She waited for me. Lia and Emma watched.

I bent over and kissed Mom's vagina, and then I waved Emma and Lia to me. They came, and it stirred me to see how they trusted me, were willing to be led by me. Both, I steered down to their knees, side by side, between Mom's legs.

They waited, and I knelt behind Emma. Lia watched me take Emma's hips and dip the front of my penis into the dark valley of her bottom. I nudged her body forward. She went to her hands, coming to rest with her face across from Mom's vagina. Lia rubbed Emma's back, nodding at me. I eased the front of my erection into Emma's wetness. Clutching her hips, I drove myself into her.

She cried out. I held still, letting the power of our jointure fill and course through me.

Lia sank to her hands beside Emma. They kissed, and when Lia broke away, she turned towards Mom.

Mom watched her girls. She seemed in a kind of peak of anticipation, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

Lia's tongue dabbed Mom's vagina. Mom gasped, and Lia turned to her sister with a shy smile. Emma kissed Lia and then put her lips between Mom's legs.

Mom closed her eyes and moaned deeply.

Reaching to Lia's bottom, I slid two fingers inside her. She looked back at me, surprised, but pleased. I began making love with Emma, watching her and Lia share Mom's vagina.

When licking, each appeared to enjoy Mom's taste. Emma lapped and sucked for ten or fifteen seconds, and then she drew back, giving space for Lia to approach. Every so often, the two girls kissed during the changeover.

At some point, Lia and Emma's kissing became licking, too—when one finished pleasing Mom, the other would use her tongue to taste and clean the performer's lips before starting on Mom, herself.

Mom, meanwhile, her head propped on a pillow, just watched. Her expression alternated between exquisite satisfaction and stunned awe as her two daughters, side by side between her legs, shared in pleasuring her with their tongues and lips.

I switched positions, making love to Lia while fingering Emma. It wasn't long before the girls, especially Mom and Lia, voiced their escalating pleasure. The combined sounds—so feminine and erotic—required me to stop and pull out. I replaced my penis with my fingers inside Lia, and so had two digits in both sisters.

Mom's breathless sighs and gasps grew louder, and it seemed to energize Lia and Emma. They quit trading off. Faces pushed together between Mom's legs, they both vied for her slit and nub with their lips and tongues. It was a frenzy of sucking, licking, and kissing.

In the moments between Mom's cries, it sounded like Emma and Lia were feverishly working together to slurp down a melting popsicle—wet sucking, lip smacking, and tongue dragging sloppiness.

The very air was thick with the combined aromas of their bodies. The difference was like walking from the musty street into a flower shop—the bell rings and one is suddenly overwhelmed by a variety of beautiful fragrances. Lia, Emma, and Mom's bodies all had floral aspects to their scents, each subtly different. Yet, all were deep and richly feminine. My erection throbbed at the very odor of the room.

Mom's orgasm triggered, the two girls—a gigantic pile of red curls from my perspective—sloppily devouring her. Her chest arched up, her head tilted back, and she cried out.

When it ended, Emma and Lia breathed deeply, looking at one another. Lia broke out in a smile. Emma laughed, and Lia joined her. Their faces shined with vaginal fluids and saliva. A moment passed, and then the two locked lips ferociously.

Both aggressive, it was not long before Lia took charge, edging Emma back with her kisses, and then pursuing her until Emma, crawling back on her hands, hoisted her body up onto the bed.

Mom looked on, sitting near the foot.

Now on her back, Emma opened her legs. Lia, still kissing her sister, crawled over her.

I rose and stopped at what I saw. Lia's breasts perched perfectly atop Emma's. The sheer mass of smooth round flesh between the two girls astounded me. Perfectly symmetrical, it almost looked like Lia's breasts were squashed against a mirror.

Mom reached out, very tentatively, it seemed. She hesitated, and then she touched Lia's bottom—a soft gliding of her fingertips.

Lia drew back from Emma and turned.

Mom brought her hand back, as if in apology, but Lia stopped her. She spun around on the bed. Gently taking Mom's hand, Lia brought it to her lips and kissed it.

Emma, still on her back, craned her neck up to see.

Lia continued kissing Mom's hand, and Mom brought her other one up and lightly caressed Lia's hair, tucking curls behind Lia's ear and brushing the back of her knuckles along Lia's cheek and jaw. Mom's fingers came to rest under Lia's chin. Mom held her there, drew close, and they kissed. It was delicate and tender.

Still holding Mom's hand, Lia pivoted and, gently coaxing Mom forward, led her closer to Emma. Lia glanced between Emma's wide open legs and then back at Mom.

Mom waited, unsure it appeared.

Lia guided Mom's hand to Emma's vagina.

When her fingers touched, Emma gasped.

Mom looked over at her youngest.

Emma nodded breathlessly to her.

Mom turned to Lia.

Lia smiled.

Then, Mom began to rub Emma. She scooted closer when Emma sighed.

Leaning slightly forward, Mom seemed transfixed by Emma's warm and supple labia. She slid two fingers inside, and Emma hummed sweetly.

Mom glanced at Lia, and it led to a kiss. When Lia drew back, she gently took Mom's body.

Letting herself be repositioned by her daughter, Mom soon laid prone between Emma's thighs. She glanced up. Emma nodded to her, murmuring, "Please, Mommy."

The words appeared to both excite and surprise Mom. She turned to Lia, waiting for approval, it seemed.

Lia placed her hand behind Mom's head and tenderly shepherded her mouth to Emma's wet vagina.

Mom kissed Emma there. Then, her tongue appeared. She dabbed briefly, tasting it. Then, flattening her tongue, Mom licked the full length of Emma's pink slit.

Emma moaned.

I hadn't moved since I saw Lia's and Emma's breasts together. I still couldn't.

Lia's hand left Mom's head and slid down her back and over her bottom. She kneaded the flesh.

Emma began breathing heavily and crying out. Her hands—both of them—swept down. Her fingers nestled into the piles of Mom's hair, and she drew Mom's head snug between her legs.

Lia noticed me, looking like she'd forgotten I was even there. She glanced at my erection and smiled.

I went to her.

She rose to her knees and leaned over and across Mom, Lia's knees on one side of Mom, her hands on the other.

As I approached her, she reached out, wrapped her fingers around my penis, and drew it to her mouth.

I muttered, "Oh, my gosh." Lia's mouth watered for me, it seemed, and one moment my erection was dry, the next, absolutely drenched. When the tip emerged from her mouth, fat, drooping strings of sticky saliva stretched between my penis and her lips. I felt a warm droplet land on one of my feet. She looked up at me, mouth wide, and the gaping hole formed by her lips was filled with a glistening bubble of saliva.

It burst when her lips closed over my erection again. Feeling as if I were being watched, I glanced to the side.

Emma looked on, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Mom watched, too, staring up from between Emma's legs. They saw Lia's lips journey back and forth along the front half of my penis.

Lia let my penis out and spun around, presenting to me her bottom. I didn't hesitate.

Mom and Emma watched me bury my erection inside Lia. They heard her gasp, hold her breath with a strain, and, finally, let out a wildly feminine sigh of pleasure.

Emma's mouth gaped. She whispered, "Oh, fuck," and the words triggered Mom, who turned back and fell upon Emma's vagina with her wet tongue.

Lia called out my name, and in moments, her arms gave way. Her upper body collapsed on Mom's back, leaving only her bottom in the air.

Seconds later, Emma began to bawl. Her body contorted and writhed, but Mom didn't relent. Between gasps, Emma vented her climax in shrieks of "Mommy!"

Lia followed hard upon Emma, calling out my name and screaming for me to never stop making love to her. Her orgasm was sudden. I wasn't anywhere close, and I drove into her until she collapsed on Mom, now begging for me to stop. My penis sprung back like a diving board when it slipped from her vagina.

Emma was the first to recover, crawling to me while Mom and Lia untangled themselves.

I knew what she wanted, so I took her head and brought it to my erection. She didn't say a word; she simply wanted my penis in her mouth.

Seconds later, she drew back to check on Mom and Lia, and when she seemed sure they were watching, her eyes flashed. Her lips pursed on the very tip. A beat passed, and then her head drove into my belly.

"Emma!" Mom gasped. From her perspective, it must have looked impossible—swallowing almost the entire length of my erection.

Emma's didn't pull back. Her lips stretched and contracted, stretched and contracted. Her head rotated slightly, left and right around the shaft, but she held in place.

Mom turned to Lia. "Did you know about this?"

Lia nodded. "She told me she knew how."

Mom continued watching Emma. "Do you know how?"

"No," Lia responded.

I grunted, and Emma drew back with aching slowness until my erection was free. She gasped for breath.

Mom began, "Emma..."

"I taught myself to do it," she breathed, "even before I had ever done it for real."

"Show me again, sweetie," Mom invited.

Emma did it again, holding for even longer. It was so good I wrapped my hands around her head. I held my breath; the sensation was almost too perfect. I felt warmth everywhere. My toes pressed down against the carpet, and I groaned.

Emma slid off with a pop.

I couldn't move. My penis visibly throbbed.

Emma asked, "Are you close?"

I nodded. "Very."

Emma turned to Mom and Lia. "Can I have it?"

Lia shrugged.

Mom said, "Of course, dear, but..." She stopped. Glancing at each of us, she finally turned back to Lia and said, "I'd like to taste his penis a little before you draw his semen."

Emma slid away, giving Mom access.

Mom said, "There's probably some pre-ejaculate ready to come out." She grasped my erection close to the root and began milking it—rolling her fingers in waves up the shaft.

"Pre-cum?" Emma asked. "Why does that matter?"

Mom didn't respond right away; she just kept stroking. Suddenly, a large, clear drop emerged from the tip.

"See?" Mom said. She closed her lips around the head of my penis, and I felt her tongue sweep up the drop. She swallowed it and released the tip.

"Is it good?" Lia asked.

"You've both tasted it before, I'm sure, but you may not have noticed it. I think it actually tastes better than semen, even though there's not nearly as much, and it's not as sexy—to me, at least."

"Tastes better?" Emma asked.

Mom nodded. "Watch," she said, "I'll give him fellatio for a few moments, and then I wouldn't be surprised if there's more. You can try it." She looked up at me as her mouth opened wide. I felt the heat of her mouth and tongue. She bobbed along the shaft until she heard me groan.

Drawing off, she milked it again, and a new drop appeared.

"Try it, Lia."

Lia swept in, her tongue outstretched, and caught the droplet on the tip. She closed her mouth, appearing to savor the taste for a moment. I heard her gulp it down. Smacking her lips, she said, "Emma, you need to try it."

"It's good?"

"Different and...yeah."

Mom smiled at Emma, and then she put my penis back in her mouth. When I gasped, Mom pulled off and slowly stroked another drop out.

Emma moved in, pursed her lips, and sucked the fluid from the tip. A moment later, she remarked, "Oh, wow, that is different."

Mom said, "See?"

A moment passed, and Emma asked, "Can I just...care if I just finish him now?"

"Can we join you?"

Emma hesitated.

"We won't...here, Emma, look." Mom stood and began to reposition us. First, she laid me across on the bed. She put Emma on her knees between my legs. Then she put Lia on my right. Mom climbed onto the bed on the other side.

Lia and Emma waited.

Mom said, "Lia, dear, you can have his right testicle. I'll have his left."

Emma waited for them, watching intently. In order for Mom and Lia to do it, they both swung their bottoms around, angled back. Mom went first, putting the side of her face on my thigh. Her fingers clasped my left testicle, raising it. Scooting forward, she put her lips on it.

Mom's jaw fell open. Soothingly, she drew my testicle inside her mouth and closed her lips around it. The girls in my family are all small, so one ball filled Mom's mouth. She hummed. Her tongue massaged it.

Lia watched, and then she did it. My testicles were being pulled in opposite directions, and it ached a little. More than that, though, it was incredibly relaxing, the feeling. I closed my eyes. A deep warmth spread through me, and I almost felt like I was hovering on air.

I muttered something about how amazing it felt, but I was so lost in pleasure that I wasn't sure what words actually came out of my mouth.

Then, I felt Emma. I gasped and opened my eyes to see her lips lazily slip down, down my penis, almost to the very root. I groaned.

Emma's head rose and fell at a languorous pace. Mom and Lia slavered upon my testicles, caressing each with their lolling tongues.

The next time Emma's head fell to my stomach, I grunted for her to stay there, right there.

It was like an eruption, only in slow-motion. The pleasure ramped up and up. My stomach clenched. My head rose from the bed. My legs shook. My toes flexed and spread.

Almost every inch of my genitalia was inside the mouths of my mother and sisters, I thought, with pure and complete satisfaction.

I looked down and saw nothing but curly, bright red hair and lips. I listened to the sloshing and guttural clucks of wet throats swallowing.

Seizing Emma's head and crying out, my body released into her in crashes and floods. The heights of my satisfaction seemed to double under the feeling of my testicles being so lovingly bathed and nursed upon.

I cried out again as my penis emptied down Emma's throat.

Suddenly, she coughed. I looked down to see semen and saliva erupt from Emma's mouth and nose. She yanked back, gulping and blurting, "Oh, no!"

Mom and Lia broke away, looking at the pool of fluids around the base of my erection, the steady stream of semen running down the length, and the final few splashes emerging from the tip.

In a flash, Lia's tongue slid up the shaft, gathering up the flow. Her mouth closed over the tip, and she swallowed and swallowed. Mom surged toward my pubic hairs, dragging her tongue through the pool.

Emma gasped, and she vied with Mom, sucking and licking the sperm. Mom licked Emma's upper lip, where my ejaculate had run out her nostrils. They kissed one another, licking each other's gluey, semen-coated tongues.

Lia gripped my erection and stroked upwards, driving whatever was left up and out the tip. She closed her mouth over it. I felt the suction. I heard the gulp.

In moments, my groin was shining and spotless, albeit a bit sticky.

"It came out my nose," Emma stated, flatly.

Then, the girls started shaking with laughter.

I smiled.

"Does semen turn any of you two on like it does me?" Mom asked.

Lia nodded.

Emma said, "Yeah."

Instantly, the three were nudging me out of the way and arranging themselves on the bed. Mom took charge.

She put Lia on her back, head toward the footboard. Emma, she placed between Lia's legs. Mom climbed over Lia, her bottom toward Lia's face.

Lia reached up, grabbed Mom's hips, and drew her face toward Mom's vagina. Lia gasped when she felt Emma's tongue inside her. Emma and Mom then took turns pleasuring Lia.

I stood and went to the chair, not disinterested, but not exactly raring to go again. Not yet.

Mom climaxed first. Her cries energized Lia, who followed her almost immediately.

I got energized, too, watching them.

Emma and Lia switched positions. Mom bent down between Emma's legs, and Emma lifted her face up to Mom's bottom.

I walked over, my erection wobbling. I climbed on the bed behind Mom, gazing at how utterly exposed she was. Emma glanced up at me while she flicked her tongue at Mom's clitoris. My testicles were in her hair.

Lia, beside me, caressed my penis until I edged back, bent over, and licked Mom's anus. I heard Mom gasp.

When I rose up, Lia bent down. Spreading Mom apart with her hands, she touched Mom's tight pink ring with her tongue once, then twice. After she sat back, I kissed her.

She smiled, and I said, "Do that again."

Lia leaned forward and, tentatively at first, dabbed at Mom's anus with her tongue. When Mom cooed, Lia began licking with vigor. I sat back and watched my sisters cover Mom's most private place with sucking kisses and wet licks, Emma on her vagina, Lia on her anus.

My heart pounded; my erection tightened.

Lia saw my finger and made way for it. I pushed it into Mom's bottom. When I drew it out, Lia snatched my hand, drew it toward her face, and sucked the finger.

I did it again, and so did she.

Lia murmured, "Mount her."

Emma stopped.

We noticed, looking down at her.

She said, "Fuck her asshole, fuzzy boy."

Mom moaned.

"Lick her some more, Lia," I urged.

She went to work. Mom started panting.

A minute later, she drew back, and I moved in. I told Mom what I was going to do.

She nodded, sucking air and blowing.

With Lia holding her wide open, my view of the penetration was comprehensive. Her muscle resisted me, but my erection was too stout. Her body squeezed against the tension of my entry, but relented, allowing passage to begin. She stretched and stretched.

The front bulb sunk in with a sticky "thwup."

I didn't relent. I drove with unwavering, consistent pressure, and my penis inched inside her. All the while, Mom, with her face buried in Emma's vagina, wheezed.
Her anus blanched and stretched. The crinkled skin smoothed. Lia glanced up at me, wide-eyed.

I waited.

Mom panted, "I'm ready...ready for more."

I drove the final few inches into her in one thrust. Mom cried out.

My penis in Mom's bottom felt like the fat end of a baseball bat squeezed into the opening of a little balloon.

Lia rose up and kissed me. I cupped her breasts while I made love to Mom's bottom. Sliding my hand down Lia's tummy and between her legs, I rubbed her. She wrapped her arms around me, laid her head on my shoulder and moaned sweetly into my neck.

Underneath me, I felt Emma's frenzied activity on Mom's vagina; parts of her face—forehead, nose, eyebrows—brushed against my testicles. Soon, Mom loosed another orgasm. She screamed and gasped for breath over and again.

Lia whispered in my ear. "Pull it out."

I did.

She took my penis, leaned down, and sucked on it.

I moaned her name.

Emma's hands wrapped around my bottom. Her tongue dragged over my testicles. When she stopped, she told me she wanted to eat my cum out of Mom's pussy.

Lia quit sucking me. She glanced at me, and her face seemed disheartened, but she nodded, saying, "Okay, Emma." Lia guided my erection to Mom, who grunted as it sank home. Mom pushed herself to her hands and knees.

I took Mom's hips and began to thrust into her. Her body rocked back against me.

My penis slid over Emma's undulating tongue as if flicked against Mom's clitoris.

Lia left me with a kiss. Laying on her side, she lifted Emma's leg. Her face vanished. Shortly after, Emma moaned.

Mom climaxed again very quickly. Then, Emma did.

I could hold back for not a second more. Emma shrieked underneath me, and I drove my erection deep one final time. Clutching Mom's hips, I ejaculated deep inside her body.

She felt it, repeatedly moaning my name with a kind of agonized, exhausted whisper.

Emma's cries began to die out as the last few contractions of my penis faded and finished.

Lia rose and scooted beside me.

I withdrew my penis and sat back in one movement.

Mom's gaping pink slit slowly sealed itself up into a vertical crease. Then, seeping out from the lowest point, my semen began to emerge. I didn't see it for long.

Emma's lips latched over Mom's vagina, sucking. She drew back with a smack. More semen gushed. Emma licked it and looked again, strings of gluey ejaculate connecting her lips and Mom's vagina. Emma licked and searched for more. Then, she pulled her face tightly against Mom. I could see how her tongue delved from the subtle movements of her cheeks.

When Emma finished, she released Mom and collapsed back on the bed with a sigh, saying, "Oh, fuck, that was good."

Mom sank forward.

Lia kissed me. She looked into my eyes and smiled weakly.

I gave her a look: what's wrong?

She shook her head and kissed me again. Afterward, she put her lips on my ear, whispering so faintly I could barely hear it, "I love you."

No one said a word for several minutes, but it was over.

By the time it was my turn to shower, all the hot water was gone.

***

I had the impression—and the more I thought about it the more I felt like I knew—that Lia was disappointed somehow by the afternoon's sex. Maybe she held herself back to let the others enjoy it fully. Maybe she just preferred to be with me, alone. I wasn't sure.

She was too unselfish, too generous during sex. I loved her for it.

Dinner was typical: the girls talked about me as if I weren't even there. The difference was that they talked about having sex with me. Lia joined the discussion, but she was not as engaged as usual.

Exhausted, it seemed, everyone went to bed early. I stayed up, worried about Lia.

After midnight, when I was sure everyone else was sleeping, I went to her. She cried silent tears of joy when I climbed into bed with her. We kissed for a long, long time, and then, as silently as we could both manage, I made love to her.

For whatever reason, her orgasm awakened and re-energized her. Of course, mine absolutely drained me.

She played with my penis and testicles while I laid, unmoving. She used her mouth and tongue on every part. Then, she rubbed her vagina on it. Later, her beautiful bottom.

I was too tired to get hard and nearly asleep when she began to use her breasts on me. She was beside me, sitting and leaning over me.

It was the feel of her hard nipples on my scrotum that first roused me. When I hardened for her, she managed to squeeze my penis between her breasts by hugging her chest with one arm. She rocked her body, and the soft warmth of her breasts felt incredibly good.

At first, she watched me, glancing occasionally at my penis. I was long enough, however, that she could curl down and take the tip into her mouth.

She kissed it a few times, and then she clapped it with her lips while her breasts squeezed me.

I ejaculated into her mouth. Afterward, she held me in her arms, and I zonked out, completely.

She shook me awake just before 6:00am, telling me she wished I could stay, but she didn't want Mom and Lia to know we'd spent the night together.

***

I woke up the next morning on my last day of winter break. I ran my laundry, packed my things, and cleaned my room before spending the afternoon and evening with friends.

That night, my last night home before leaving for school, I visited my Mom and both of my sisters in the night.

I started with Mom. I slid into bed behind her, under the covers. Kissing her on the back of the neck, I put my arms through hers and squeezed on her breasts, grinding my front into her back.

She stirred, encouraging me with soft moans. She adjusted her bottom so as to align my erection with her anus as we shoved into each other.

When I began lubricating her, she hummed sweetly. Once finished, she rolled onto her tummy and raised her bottom for me. She didn't utter a word. She waited.

I rose to my knees and got behind her. I started to grab my penis, but her hand, reaching through her legs, stopped me.

She said, 'Let me."

She pushed herself up on all fours and reached around her body. Grabbing my erection, she guided it into place.

"Don't move," she said.

She held my erection and, easing back, guided the front bulb inside her until the taut ring cinched around it. She let go of my penis.

Then, I felt her muscles go to work. Her anus pinched my erection, but not so as to force it out, rather take it in deeper. I watched my penis vanish another inch inside her. Then, she did it again. And again. And more.

Mom's breathing grew labored, and she regularly gasped, but her bottom swallowed up my penis, an inch at a time.

I grunted with each of her muscle contractions, and when I was almost fully inside her, I felt a new sensation.

This time it was a push. Some deep, soft part of her anatomy squeezed my erection in a way that gradually expelled it. It was achingly slow, the process, and I watched more and more of the shaft reappear.

Mom struggled. She would hold her breath for a few moments, and I could hear her straining. Then, suddenly, she wheezed in relief before panting rapidly and starting to push again.

When she reached the tip, her body began pulling it back in.

In and out, it went, controlled completely by her. I didn't really move. I just relaxed, letting my body be guided by hers. The longer she did it, it seemed, the easier it grew for her.

And the more pleasurable. After several iterations, her straining turned into moaning.

Awestruck by the entire event, I hadn't once considered how good she was making me feel. I finally did when I heard how good she was feeling; I cried out, and my penis surged, flexing inside her.

It set her afire.

Suddenly, she began screaming her climax into the mattress.

Her bottom took me all the way in, and I roared, seizing her waist and cramming our bodies against one another. In that position, my penis delivered pulse after pulse of semen into her until we collapsed.

I groaned and she wheezed. Every now and then, her anus pinched my penis or my penis flexed inside her.

When, at last, her bottom expelled my dwindling erection completely, I rolled off of her onto my back, still huffing to catch my breath.

Soon, we both had recovered, and her bedroom was pure silence.

"I loved that," Mom whispered, "Thank you, baby."

"Awesome, Mom. That was awesome."

Shortly after, she fell asleep.

I slid out of her bed and went to the bathroom to relieve myself and clean up.

As I walked back to my room, I stopped at Em's door and peaked in. I hated to leave her, too, I thought. I walked into her room to be close, to snuggle, to tell her how I'd miss her, and to thank her for her love.

Sitting by her bedside, I whispered her name.

She rolled toward me, smiling. "I was hoping you'd come."

I nodded.

She threw her sheets down, exposing her completely naked body, and then she spread her legs wide. "Will you lick my pussy one more time before you go?" she asked, and then added, "Daddy?"

I didn't say a word; I just did it.

After she bawled her orgasm into a pillow, she rolled her onto her tummy and waited for me to lubricate her anus. I eased my penis inside it.

Between groans, Emma whispered, "Fuck my asshole, Daddy." After a minute or so of adjustment, she began shoving her bottom back into my thrusts, and our bodies clapped together.

It wasn't until I slid my hands under her chest and took firm hold of her fat, full breasts that I felt the rush overwhelm me. I ejaculated into her bottom as she called me "Daddy."

When I raised myself off of her, Emma rolled over and gestured for me to scoot forward.

I did, and she took my penis into her hand.

With a mock-pouty face, she whispered to me how bad she'd been, and she asked if her Daddy was going to make her clean his dirty cock with her tongue.

I nodded, and Emma stared me in the eyes as she licked all over my penis.

When she finished, she said, "Thank you for visiting me again, fuzzy boy. Now, go get some sleep." She rolled away as I rose. "But, come home for Spring Break, okay?"

"I will," I whispered and left.

As I cleaned up for the second time that night, I knew I had to see my Lia, even if it was just to hold her close to me and tell her that I loved her.

I went to her room and crept inside. It was almost two in the morning. She stirred in her sleep when I climbed in beside her. Clutching her breasts, I fell asleep.

It was just before 5:00am when I awoke with start. In my dream, Aunt Blair had somehow convinced my Mom and sisters to let her take me away. I told Blair I didn't want to go, but she injected me with something. I grew dizzy, and I couldn't stop her from loading me in her car. The last thing I remembered was screaming from the back seat as she drove me away from our home. Mom and my sisters sadly waved goodbye, not even noticing my urgent cries.

Freaky dream.

Lia mumbled something and squeezed my hand—the one that remained on her breast. Her body felt feathery soft and warm against me. Her hair smelled beautiful—vanilla and nutmeg.

I wanted her.

"Lia," I whispered.

She hummed.

"Lia, can I..."

I didn't finish; she interrupted me, sleepily murmuring, "I want your penis in me."

I whispered, "Okay."

I pulled the little tub of petroleum jelly from my shorts. Slipping off Lia's panties, I spread the lubrication on her. The anticipation made me hard, and Lia whimpered when she felt my erection press against the flesh of her butt.

I took my penis, wiggled it between her cheeks, and began to apply pressure. It took some time to get the bulbous tip inside of her.

Lia quietly whimpered when it slipped in. She took a few deep breaths, and then huffed, "Put it all the way in, please."

Slowly, I drove it home. The jointure was incredibly tight. The two curvy halves of Lia's bottom squashed against the tops of my naked thighs. I began to draw back, but Lia held me.

"No," she gasped. "Just leave it there and let me."

"Okay."

I waited. A minute elapsed before Lia's bottom began to grind back against me. She did it slowly, and there was no doubt that she was enjoying herself. She moaned sweetly throughout. The overall movement, back and forth, was small and shallow—her bottom slid maybe an inch, total, over the shaft, but it felt incredible to have Lia use my body in this way, pleasure herself with my penis.

I reached over her hip and began to rub and finger her sopping vagina.

Her face turned toward mine. Her mouth gaped as she sucked air. Her eyes took me in with a mixture of what seemed like sorrow and adoration, anguish and love. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"I love you," she whispered, crying.

"Love you, too, Lia."

She sighed as my fingers delved inside her. Then, she reached down and stopped me. Searching my eyes, she whispered to me timidly, "Will you...will you do something for me? A kind of...of pretend thing?"

"Guess so."

She swallowed and spoke in an airy, broken voice. "Let me be your wife tonight and...and pretend we're trying for our first baby."

I didn't respond. I remembered Mom in the night calling me "Jake" and asking for the same thing. But, this was different. Lia wanted me, not Jake.

She misread my face. She quickly said, "You don't want to. I'm sorry! I..."

"No, no. Lia, I want to. I will."

I slipped my erection from her anus. Then, I pulled her face towards mine and kissed her softly and deeply. She yielded, offering her tongue. I took it inside my lips, caressed it with my own tongue.

She broke the kiss, wiped tears from her eyes, and whispered, "Give me a baby, my love. Cum in me."

I drew my hand from between her legs. Taking her hips, I rolled her to her back. She hugged me with her legs, drawing my penis inside her.

She gasped.

"I want to have a baby with you, Lia," I told her.

She nodded. "Make me pregnant."

I drove my penis into her.

She hushed a cry, knowing that Mom was still sleeping in the room next to us. Emma was just down the hall.

Strangely, the idea of impregnating Lia was incredibly arousing. She continued crying, and the way she looked at me—with such sad longing and desire—made it all the easier to pretend.

She, too, must have been excited by the idea. We found a rhythms driven my slow, deep thrusts, mashing our bodies together. She began to move quickly to a climax. She gasped, "Oh, give me a baby."

I grunted.

"Cum in me," she urged.

I groaned.

"Make me pregnant, my love," she cooed.

I drove my penis deep.

She bit her lip, stifling another cry. Tears slipped down the sides of her face.

Our mouths joined, our tongues met, and she moaned her climax into my mouth. I grunted mine into hers.

My entire body felt like it was stretching—from my toes to my neck, my muscles felt that kind of relaxing ache from a deep muscle stretch. My heart pounded, firing hot blood through my veins. My body burned, and under me, Lia's felt like the perfect soothing, balm. I sank my penis as deeply as I could.

Lia screamed into my mouth.

The release was pure joy. I felt the semen bursting out of my body.

Lia broke away, moaning her love for me and for this new child.

I told her she was beautiful, so beautiful.

She melted into me, crying tears of joy and sighing through the final sweet moments of her orgasm.

The spasms of my own climax began to die away. I collapsed on her, and she folded her arms around me.

A minute or so later, she whispered, "Thank you, my fuzzy boy."

I kissed her breast in response.

"It was real, like I was really your wife," she said. "I can feel your sperm inside me."

We rested there, not moving for a few minutes. At some point, we both changed positions. Lia was careful to keep my penis inside her. Back on our sides, she fell asleep in my arms.

I dozed, in and out of sleep. When I awakened once to find we were no longer joined, I took the opportunity to ease out of the bed. Mom wouldn't like it if she caught me spending the night with Lia.

Strange to think, given all that had happened, but it was true: Mom would be mad. She would assume we were in love, and I didn't think Lia would want Mom to know. I didn't.

I went back to my room and fell asleep thinking about Mom, Lia, and Emma, all soundly asleep, all three of their bodies brimming with my sperm.

***

I can't even describe how strange and sad it was to say goodbye to everyone the next morning.

***

Too much to think about, I didn't say a lot on the five-hour ride back to school with this guy I knew from my dorm. We weren't great friends or anything, so it probably didn't matter.

I thought about Mom, when she first took hold of my penis to squeeze out the final drops. I remembered when she pulled her pants down and let me kiss and lick her bottom. I recalled how she wanted to teach me, to help me understand, and so she bent down and put her mouth on my penis for the very first time. Sighing, I thought about that place on the stairs in our home where, at the darkest hour of the night when I was so upset about Aunt Blair, Mom had bent over for me and let me make love to her.

I wondered what the future held for Mom. The cups had brought something out of her, something she'd buried for more than a decade. Was she ready to let sex and companionship be a part of her life again? Ready to forget Dad and move forward?

It seemed that way.

Yeah.

Then, I thought about Emma, who so desperately wanted to show how she was different from Mom. I liked how she cursed and used language that she knew would anger Mom. I smiled, thinking about how she rebelled against the asexuality of Mom's home. Emma must have, in the privacy of her room, worked hard to learn how to fit a penis down her throat. I remembered—with gratefulness—how she might have freaked out about the things she'd seen—Lia and me in my room, Mom and I on the stairs—but she hadn't. She'd liked it.

But, she'd been unsure of herself. She needed me to smell her vagina, to know if she was okay down there. When I took in the aroma of it on her fingers, I knew I needed to taste them, taste her. Later on, she wanted to show me what she could do with my penis. She was shy and hesitant in her asking. I remember how she smiled when I nodded and let her.

I had no doubt that Emma would keep having boyfriends, but I think she was a changed person, too. Maybe, I thought, she and Mom had reached a point where Emma didn't feel the need to test Mom anymore. Maybe they could actually like one another and be friends.

And Lia. Dang it. I loved Mom. I loved Emma, too. But, Lia. I really, really liked her. So dutiful. So giving. So insecure about herself that she never really had a boyfriend until...until me, I guess.

I remember watching her dance in her panties. I remember her wonder and joy at making me ejaculate with her hand in front of Mom. I remember how she let me dip my penis inside her—just a little.

Lia was my first. To hell with Aunt Blair: Lia was my first.

Lia told me she loved me, and I had said the same to her. I remembered how she gave of herself so freely, how she just gave me her bottom—let me touch it and lick it all I wanted, never complaining, never judging.

I remembered sleeping beside her, my penis nestled into her bottom. There was nothing so comforting and perfect, I thought, as being able to spend the night with her in my arms.

What would she do now?

I wondered.

I imagined a time, down the road, when we might both be married to other people, but still in love with each other. I thought about her with a new baby—not mine—yet still desiring me. During a visit to see my new nephew, Lia would come to me in the night after feeding the baby. I would nurse on her breasts; she would nurse on my penis. Then, we would cuddle together and, for the sweetest few minutes in the world, sleep. When she left to return to her husband's bed, she would kiss me, and I would lay in silence, longing for her return.
She told me what she wanted: to be always joined to me. It wouldn't happen—couldn't—not as long as we respected Mom's wishes. Maybe, I thought with some hope, the times we could be joined would be so perfect as to make up for the days apart.

I loved Lia, and I wanted her right then.

I sighed, watching fields and towns zip past us on the road.

I thought about the cups.

I hated them. I hated all twenty.

But, without them, where would I be?

Where would we all be?

*****

Author's Note: Thanks to all readers. I apologize for the mistakes; it's self-edited. I hope the story succeeded, if only a little bit, in paying tribute to the many other amazingly written sperm sample stories out there. Many thanks to those authors. -FS

Twenty Cups Ch. 01

Son needs help from Mom and sisters.

Note: Others before me have blazed (and improved) the trail that is this story's main conceit. I'm indebted to them all, and hope my attempt here does justice as an homage to their amazing stories. -FS

***

This story begins with my father passing along a genetic deficiency to me. My liver doesn't do a good job of producing Aldolase B, an enzyme that helps break down fructose. I have Hereditary Fructose Intolerance or HFI. It's fairly rare, and it's awful because fructose is in basically everything that tastes sweet. So, my father gave me HFI and then left my Mom with three young kids. I was three, Emma was four, and Lia was seven. Mom raised us by herself.

As the only boy is a household full of females, I was pampered and doted upon. It helped that I was pretty quiet and that I was always up for whatever game the girls wanted to play. Dress me up like a girl? I didn't care. Kitten tea party? Okay. I never got in fights with my sisters, but wow, did Emma and Lia fight. And Lia and Mom. And Emma and Mom.

My sisters loved me because—in their words—I was "fuzzy." Mom kept my hair buzzed pretty short, and I was a big, strong kid. Also, I loved blankets. Even in the summer, if I was inside the house, I usually had a really soft blanket wrapped around me. For whatever reason, it delighted the girls, Mom included, that I was always warm and fuzzy. When I was outside, I ran around like a madman, climbing trees, catching snakes, doing what boys do. But, inside? Fuzzy. The girls would see me and come running. They'd jump on me and snuggle.

What kind of sucked was that, as I grew up, there were absolutely no secrets about me. The girls all had secrets, but anything that was going on in my life was fit for discussion at the table. What's more is that they had these conversation about me—in my presence—almost as if I weren't even there.

For example, when I was a freshman in high school, the ladies of my house began a discussion during breakfast about which girl I should ask out.

"He should ask Heather out," Emma suggested.

Lia said, "No, I think that one girl, the volleyball player—what's her name?"

"Ariel Gunderson?"

"Yeah! He should go out with Ariel. I like her."

"No way. Heather is way cooler."

Mom interposed, "What about Jennifer Mund? She seems very nice."

My sister's guffawed at this suggestion.

On and on they went, never once seeking my opinion. I just hid behind my box of special cereal and ate in silence.

It sounds unbelievable to think the girls talked about all these things, but it's true. I was the curiosity of the house—the only boy—and I was like a good dog for the women around me: I kept my mouth shut, looked cuddly, fought for my family when I had to, and enjoyed the heck out of getting out of the house.

Mom was a nurse for years, but by the time I entered in high school, she had moved on to teaching nurses at the city college. She loved teaching, and said it was her true calling. Often, one of us would raise a question, and then Mom would switch to what we called "teacher mode." She could totally lose herself in explaining details, providing examples, and checking on our understanding. She missed nursing, she told us, but that she was now teaching nurses made it all the better.

She was fiercely active in helping me with my HFI. She almost lost me before I was diagnosed as an infant. Plus, I'd made a few mistakes in life. At a birthday party once, I ate some cake without even thinking. I had no idea there was such sweetness in the world, and it was then I realized my mistake. I broke out in a massive rash and had horrendous stomach pains for a while. HFI can kill you if you're not careful. As I grew into a young man, I began to take responsibility for myself, but that didn't stop Mom from researching and trying to find out the latest on my disease.

Her research led to this story's real beginning.

I was three months from turning 19 when I came home after finals for winter break in mid-December, I discovered that my Mom had set up a specialist appointment for me the next morning.

"Why?" I asked.

"A few weeks ago, I read in a journal article that there is fructose in semen," she explained. "It's used as an energy source, for motility. It's possible that yours may not contain any, and this may make you infertile. We need to find out."

"But, I'm not..."

She didn't let me finish. "We've all agreed. You're going."

This meant that my mother and my sisters, who were already on break from their schools, had thoroughly discussed the matter and, together, decided for me.

So, I went. Mom came with me, but I persuaded her to remain in the waiting room.

I would need to provide samples, and the standard was ten. The doctor, however, was going to be out of town over the holidays. She would not be able to see me again until early January. Apparently, as far as samples, the more, the more accurate the results. So, I walked out of there with two ten-packs of sperm sample containers.

The women interrogated me at home with the 20 lidded cups sitting in the middle of the kitchen table.

Emma asked, "So, he has to fill every one of those containers?"

"Yes," Mom answered.

"Guys can do that?" she asked, surprised.

"Not in one day, Emma! Geez!" Lia said. "And he doesn't have to fill them all the way up, I bet, does he, Mom?"

"No," my mom responded, chuckling.

"So, what is it? Like once a day or something?" Emma asked.

"Yes," Mom responded. "The same time every day—or close to it—and he's not supposed to change his diet."

"He should use a condom," Lia suggested, "That would catch everything, and no mess."

Mom said, "He can't. Condoms have spermicide on them. It would interfere with the results." Then, Mom turned to me. "Did the doctor say anything about using lubrication when you masturbate?"

"It's fine," I answered.

"Good," she declared.

"Mom, would vaginal fluids or saliva interfere with the results?" Lia asked.

Emma turned to Lia and yelled, "What?"

Lia craned her head at Emma and, glaring, retorted, "So a girlfriend could help him, Enema!" When irritated, that was Lia's name for Emma—Enema. Emma called Lia "Diarrh-Lia."

"Oh."

Mom answered Lia's question. "No, honey, they don't have any fructose in them."

"So, a girlfriend could help him?" Emma asked.

Mom turned to me. "Have you got a girlfriend here, baby?"

I never really had an actual girlfriend. I was pretty shy. I shook my head.

Mom turned to Emma. "That's probably not going to happen, Emma."

"Can he drink alcohol?" Lia asked.

Mom nodded. "He can," she said, and then, turning to me, added, "but, he shouldn't. He's not old enough."

"How do guys actually do it?" Lia asked.

"One of my nurse friends works in the fertility clinic," Mom explained. "She says they have movies and magazines in the rooms for men to use."

"Porn?" Emma asked.

Mom nodded. "I'm sure he can find what he wants to use on the Internet." A second later, she turned to me and asked if that would be okay or if I needed to pick up something.

"I'm okay, Mom."

"Oh, did the doctor say whether or not you can ejaculate more than once in a day?" Mom asked.

"One sample per day."

"I know that. I'm asking about in between providing samples. Are you permitted to ejaculate?"

I stared at her, confused.

Emma said, "But, he doesn't have a girlfriend, Mom."

"That doesn't mean he isn't going to find one, Emma," Lia responded.

Then, Mom added, "Or, he may decide to masturbate again. Young men sometimes have strong urges."

Lia turned to me. "Would you do that? Masturbate again?"

"I don't like to do it," I said.

Mom had been cutting up fruit for the girls. She stopped. "Why not? Does it hurt?"

"It's weird."

Emma said, "It's gross."

"No, it's not. It's no grosser than when girls do it," Lia remarked.

Mom, still watching me, said, "Explain this to me. I need to understand. Does it feel strange?"

"It's like I'm gay or something."

"Are you gay?" Lia asked.

"No."

"Lia, please keep focused," Mom said. She rounded on me. "Why do you feel gay when you masturbate?"

I glanced at Lia and Emma for a moment, and then looked at Mom and muttered, "It's touching a penis to make a man ejaculate."

"You, honey. The man is you, yourself, not some other man, and most men masturbate, not just gay ones."

"I know."

My Mom's face was a portrait of deep concern. "So, do you ever masturbate?"

Lia and Emma watched me closely.

I shook my head.

Mom asked, "You just let it build up?"

"It does that, Mom?" Emma asked.

She nodded to Emma, and then looked back at me.

I answered, "My body takes care of it."

The girls heard this and looked at Mom. "Do you mean wet dreams?" Mom asked.

"Yeah."

Lia and Emma's faces took on the "oh, yeah" expression.

"Why?" Mom asked.

Emma said, "Yeah, don't you mess up your pajamas?"

"And your bed?" Lia added.

"Sometimes," I responded.

Mom was still waiting for my answer to her question.

I glanced between my sisters, and said, "It's dumb, Mom. Isn't real."

Mom guffawed at this, arguing, "And your dreams are?"

"They seem real," I said. "My body thinks it's real, and I'd rather have sex with a girl in my dreams than do it to myself. It's a surprise when it happens."

All three of the females seemed to be hanging on my words, waiting for more. I never talked this much.

"I don't like playing pretend," I finished.

Mom said, "Well, now you have to do it, and I need to know that you're going to."

I nodded. "I will."

Mom blinked a few times, still staring at me, and then silently went back to cutting up fruit. Lia and Emma worked on their breakfasts.

Lia eventually asked, "Are you going to help him, Mom? Watch him, I mean."

My mouth fell open. I closed my eyes.

Mom said, "I'm considering it."

Lia said, "I think you should."

Emma snapped, "Oh, gross. Why?"

Lia explained, "He doesn't do it ever, so he probably doesn't know what he's doing. He's trying to get it all in a tiny cup, and he's holding the cup with one hand and his penis with the other. Plus, he's having an orgasm and his body will probably be shaking or something."

I glared at Lia. "I'm fine, Lia."

Mom used her knife to scrape the fruit into a big bowl. She set down the knife and gave me a stern glare. "Are you going to be okay doing this? Because I'll be darned if I'm going to pay for this procedure and have you not get it right."

I nodded.

Emma said, "Mom, what does he do with the stuff when he's finished?"

"It goes in the freezer until we've got all the samples," she responded.

Mom watched me while I finished eating.

Lia and Emma discussed what I should do if I was found to be infertile.

***

According to Mom, for there were no pictures of Dad in the house, my face and coloring were a mirror image of his. The shape and size of my body, however, weren't. I was just over six feet tall, barrel-chested and with thick legs. I had very light, very short blonde hair, and brown eyes so dark they were practically black. I was tanned and hairy, with blonde fuzz almost everywhere on my body. It was a strange look—white hair covering nearly copper skin. Someone called me "Polar Bear" in middle school, and the nickname stuck. At home, I was still "fuzzy boy" to my sisters.

My sisters took after Mom. Their skin was pearly, creamy white. I couldn't see their few tiny freckles until I got really close. They all had curly, tomato-red hair. Emma's was super curly—so much so that if it wasn't tied up in a ponytail or clipped down, it would float high off her shoulders and back, and she'd look like a pyramid. Lia's was curly, too, but less so—thinner and shinier. Mom had fat curls that bounced when she walked. Mom and Emma had blue eyes, but Lia's were like mine. They had big lips and big mouths, full of shiny teeth, always ready to smile. They were very, very cute—my Mom, too.

All three were average height, but on the plump side. They stored their weight well, with fat breasts and fat butts, but relatively narrow waists and shapely legs. My friends talked about them a lot, and I could tell that they secretly liked my sisters and my Mom. At school, I know the guys called my sisters fat. It hurt Lia and Emma a lot to hear this. Those same guys, I bet, craved my sisters' bodies in their hearts.

My sisters, like Mom, were both really smart and mature. They hadn't played the silly high school games, and both had a small number of very, very close friends. They didn't date, as far as I could tell. I don't know what they wanted out of men or sex. My sisters' secrets were kept secret. They dissected me at the table, but never themselves.

If there was a significant difference in Emma's and Lia's personalities, I would say that Lia, the older of the two, was the rule follower and Emma was the risk taker.

I guessed Mom was asexual. Of course, she wasn't built like a woman disinterested in sex, but if she was having sex, I don't know how or when it happened. In middle school, I remember ransacking her room when she was out with the girls, looking for something, anything that might clue me in. I thought I might find a some sexy underwear, maybe a see-through nightie or something in her drawers. Nothing. I looked in her medicine cabinets for condoms or lubricant or something. Nothing. Then, I went through everywhere, thinking that maybe there'd be a toy or a device hidden away. Still, nothing. My theory was that she'd had sex three times in her life: Lia, Emma, and then me.

The evening after my specialist appointment, I went to bed thinking that I'd take care of myself—get the first sample—sometime in the morning after Mom left for work.

Mom's school was on a trimester plan. Winter break was mid-term for her. She taught classes until several days before the holidays, gave her mid-term, and then had two weeks before classes started again. I didn't know what her teaching schedule looked like, but she always went in to work early, whether she was teaching that morning or not.

I woke up after eight, and I knew Mom was gone. I was hard. I was ready, except, I forgot to bring the sample containers up to my room.

I wrapped my big, fluffy white blanket around me and went downstairs. Lia and Emma were in the family room with the tv on, messing around on their phones. I looked in the kitchen, bathroom, and Mom's room. I looked everywhere.

I walked back into the family room. "Hey, do either of you know where the sample cups are?"

Emma said, "Oh, my gosh, are you going to do it now?"

I shrugged.

Lia said she didn't know. Neither did Emma. I called Mom.

"I have them here," Mom said.

"Why?"

"Because I want to make sure you're going to do this right. See you in a few minutes."

She hung up before I could respond.

Twenty minutes later, I heard snorts and whispering from Lia and Emma when Mom, sample container in hand, walked up the stairs with me to my room.

She closed the door.

"Okay, talk me through what you're going to do."

I nodded. "Masturbate and ejaculate into..."

"No, baby. How are you going to do it?"

"The normal way." I shook my fist a few times.

Mom sighed. "You know, 99% of the time, the girls are much more challenging for me as a parent than you. You're almost always a piece of cake, but there's that one percent, baby. And that one percent sometimes makes up for the other 99. Now, tell me what your plan is for doing it. Where are you going to be, et cetera, et cetera?"

I nodded. "Lay on the bed..."

"Laying down? Show me."

I hesitated.

"Not for real, baby," she explained. "Lay down and act like you're going to do it." She handed me the container.

I took it and laid on my bed. I pretended to grab my erection. "Like this."

"And how are you going to catch it when it comes?"

I held the container with my other hand on my stomach, tilting it towards where my penis would be.

Mom shook her head. "The cup's tilted. You might spill some. And, you'll need to completely cover the tip of your penis. Do you think you can do that when you're ready to ejaculate? It might be tricky."

I nodded.

"Here," she said, "stand up."

I did.

"Why not like this?" she asked. She took my right hand and made a fist of it over my crotch. Then, she took my other hand and held the cup in front of my fist. "Easier not to spill any this way."

"Not comfortable."

She sighed. "Okay, but do not spill any. Where's your lubricant?"

I opened my mouth, closed it, and shook my head.

"Baby, use lubricant. Always use lubricant. You'll damage the skin otherwise. Do you have any?"

"No."

"Wait here."

She walked out of the room. The door was wide open, and I was still standing there with my fist curled against my crotch, and the container held in front. Then, my sisters walked up the stairs, glanced at me there, and turned towards their rooms.

I heard them snort. I saw their shoulders shaking as they walked away down the hall. Mom passed them by holding a tub of Vaseline. They burst out laughing.

Mom ignored them and closed the door to my room.

I shook my head. "Too greasy, Mom."

"That's the point, baby."

"Won't come off."

She held the tub to me and said, "Soap and water are miracles of this modern world. Take it."

I did.

Mom looked around the room. "Do you have your stimulation?"

"Huh?"

"Visual stimulation?"

I hesitated.

"Pornography! Did you bring your computer home?" she asked.

"No."

"Where's your phone?"

"Mom, my phone doesn't have Internet, remember?"

"Right, sorry. Where's the tablet?"

I shrugged.

Exasperated, she demanded, "Well, what the heck were you going to do?"

To my Mom, "heck" was a curse word. I responded, "Just think, I guess. Imagine."

Mom turned away from me and opened the door. "Lia!"

I heard Lia call out, "Yeah?"

"We need the tablet in here! Bring it, please!"

"What?"

"Bring it, Lia!" Mom turned to me. "This is just in case," she told me.

A few seconds later, Lia came up to the door, holding the black device. "Mom, is he going to use this for masturbating?"

"Maybe, honey."

"That's just weird, Mom. Can he not do that?"

Mom snatched it from her and closed the door.

As it latched shut, I heard Lia say, "Make sure he wipes it down."

Mom pushed the little button on the door handle, locking it. She turned to me, handing me the tablet. She was very stern when she said, "I'm not at all comfortable with your lack of planning here. I'm going to stay and make sure you get this right."

"Mom, please."

"I will sit back here and keep my mouth shut." She pulled the chair from my desk and set it up in the little panhandle corner of my room—a few feet away from the back of my bed, and behind it. "Once I'm comfortable that you've got this, then you'll never see me again." She sat down and crossed her legs.

I stared at the floor.

I lived a life full of embarrassment. With how my private matters were constantly discussed by the girls, I'd kind of gotten used to it—at least to a point where I just kept my mouth shut and bore it.

But, this?

This was on a whole other level. I was mortified at the idea of doing this in front of Mom.

It wasn't so much about her seeing me masturbate. I've seen her lose all motherhood and slip into nurse-teacher mode. She could be distant, like a friendly stranger. I knew she would be that way here.

What I liked least was the idea that Mom would see what turned me on. She'd be behind me, watching the video I pulled up.

I wasn't some freak. I knew exactly what video I wanted to watch, and, hell, it wasn't even pornographic. It was on youtube, actually. What did I care, then?

I suppose it was the idea that my sexual fantasies were one of the few secrets I could actually keep, one of the only things that hadn't been discussed in the kitchen. Now, I was revealing one of them. I also knew that, if Mom knew, then my sisters would, too.
"Take your time, baby," she murmured.

I pulled off my tee shirt and laid on the bed. There were all kinds of things I needed to keep track of: tablet, lube, container.

Mom had to have been watching me fumble around with everything.

I felt her get up. She walked over to me and said, "Put this here—for now. This should go here until you need it. Flip the lid. Okay. Let me take the lid off this one and just keep it with me."

The tablet was between my left arm and my hip. The lube was beside my right hand, lid open, and Mom had unscrewed the lid of the sample container, kept the lid, and put the open jar on my left side.

Hovering over me, she said, "Now, just relax, find something that will excite you. Let it happen, and then you'll be fine. I'm going back to my chair. I'm no longer here."

I unlocked the tablet, opened youtube, and signed in. I typed in "Keyra Constantina." Several old, old videos appeared—none of them in HD, but they were far and away my favorites. Keyra was a young, skinny woman. It was rare to see her face or her hair. She had an absolutely incredible butt. Her videos all showed her, from her belly to her knees, slowly undressing, and then dancing and gyrating. I turned down the volume, and then tapped on my third favorite one.

Keyra did her thing, but I could not get away from the idea that Mom was in there with me, watching. Every few seconds, she was probably looking at my boxers, waiting for a bulge to begin appearing.

I sighed and clicked on my second favorite one. Keyra was in a school girl uniform.

It ended. Strike two.

"Not working. Mom, can you please..."

"Baby, I'm not leaving, so forget it. Have you thought of maybe putting some lubricant on it first? Masturbate yourself to get an erection?"

"I...," I stammered.

I laid the tablet on my chest, and—a little too aggressively—grabbed the vaseline, forgetting in the moment that the lid was open. My fingers buried in the stuff.

"Darn it," I said, risking a small curse in front of Mom. I lifted the vaseline and pulled my fingers out. They emerged, covered in the greasy goup. I reached for the lubricant with my other hand, inadvertently knocking the sperm container off the bed. When I tried to reflexively grab for the semen jar as it fell, the tablet slid off my chest. Of course, I missed the sample cup—it fell to the floor—and when I brought my left hand back, it touched my right hand. Both were covered in lubricant.

I was about to curse again when Mom said, "Freeze. Don't move. I've got this."

She came over and took the tablet. She picked up the specimen jar and set it beside me again. She grabbed the vaseline and closed the lid.

"Use what you've got there on your fingers."

I stared at her, holding my greasy hands up and away from me like a surgeon.

Mom grabbed the waistband of my boxers. She looked at me and said, "Lift your hips, so we don't get any vaseline on your underwear."

I did, and Mom exposed me completely. She pulled the boxers down my legs and off my feet, laying them neatly beside me. I had to have flushed completely red.

She turned away, grabbed my towel off the hanger on the back of my closet door and returned. "Let me wipe off your left hand."

I buried it in the towel, and Mom worked it between and around each of my fingers.

"Let me see, " she said.

I held it up for her.

She looked and shook her head. "Still too greasy. I'll hold the tablet for you."

"I'll just go wash..."

I stopped because of the look she was giving me. When she saw that I was done talking, she said, "Everything that has happened here convinces me even more that I need to stay. Now, use what's on your right hand."

She watched me wipe the vaseline from my fingers onto my penis. She was kneeling beside me, looking at my groin. She watched my fingers move the lubricant around. Her face showed no emotion, whatsoever. I coated all around the shaft. Then, I grabbed it and let my penis slide through my hand, lubricating my palm and fingers.

She turned back to me. "I'll hold the sample container when you're ready. I don't want it slipping through your fingers."

I nodded, feeling the pads of my hands and fingers glide back and forth on my penis.

"Ready for your video?"

I nodded. And she lifted the tablet up. "It logged you off, hang on."

I could smell her—fresh strawberries, it seemed like. Her body was just inches from mine.

"Were you on youtube?"

"Yes."

"There's no pornography on youtube."

"I know."

"That's what you want? The girl showing her bottom?"

"Yes."

She finished typing and said, "What's the video called?"

I told her the name.

She typed, still talking to me, very softy. "Girls' bottoms. I thought you young men were all into hardcore pornography. I thought...spell that last name for me?"

I did. I liked her voice and her smell.

She typed it in. "I thought you would be watching oral sex videos. Women screaming. Big breasts bouncing. Semen squirting on faces. I'm surprised. Just dancing. Just a round bottom in sexy panties." She turned the tablet toward me. "This it?"

I gulped, still stroking myself, and muttered, "Don't need it."

She looked down my body towards my penis, and then she gasped and covered her mouth. Immediately, she looked back to me. I saw her lips close, her throat rise and fall. She murmured, "You...you don't want the video?"

I shook my head.

"What...what made you..."

"Your voice."

She set the tablet on the floor. Was she suppressing a little smile? When she faced me again, if it had been there, it was gone. "My voice?" she asked, her voice airy.

"Keep talking."

"Baby, I don't..."

"Helps."

"I have no idea what to say."

"Say what you see."

She looked at my erection. "I see your penis. It is very hard now. Your hand is sliding up and down it, slowly. I see your testicles. They're like golf balls, very round in your scrotum. It's a big penis, long and thick. The tip is fat and purple. It is a handsome penis. You'll make some young lady very happy, baby."

Sensuality filled her voice. I watched her stare at my erection.

"Is that what you want?" she asked.

I nodded, still stroking, and huffed, "The young lady, Mom. More about her."

Mom glanced at me, saw me watching her, and then returned her gaze to my penis. "Your young lady...she'll like to grab it and make it hard with her hands. She'll want to kiss it and put it in her mouth. She'll like how it feels when you ejaculate in her hands...on her breasts...in her vagina...in her mouth."

My lungs pumped air, and my body filled with buzzing energy.

Mom said, "Sometimes she lets you ejaculate in her bottom."

"Now, Mom."

She raced to grab the cup. I pulled my erection down toward my belly, and she held the open end over the tip. I grunted, my stomach gripped and lifted my chest off the bed. Then, I was gasping and filling the cup in bursts. I stroked again, and more squirted out, splattering against the back of the cup and dripping down. I stroked again; semen spilled out of the tip. I let go and sank back into the bed, panting.

"Baby, don't stop now! There's still some left!" She grabbed my penis close to the base and worked her fingers in little waves, rolling them up. Her hand moved up a few inches, and she milked it again. Further up, close to the tip, she made those little waves with her fingers, and two fat drops emerged from the tip and spilled into the cup.

She drew the cup away, wiped her hand on the towel and reached for the lid. Carefully, she screwed it on and set it down.

I laid in bed, panting.

"I need to wash my hands and get back to work. I'll put your semen in the freezer. You go and take a shower, okay?"

"Okay."

"You did well, but you mustn't forget how there's more in there. You have to get all of it, okay? I'm happy to help you this time, but please remember next time to squeeze the rest of it out, baby."

"Okay, Mom."

"Good," she said. She ran her fingers through my hair, smiled, took the container, and left.

***

That night, after Mom returned from work, she brought me into her bedroom to talk.

"I'm going to come home tomorrow to help you again," she declared, "but we have to do things a little differently next time."

"Okay."

"First, you're juggling too much—a tablet, the lubricant, the container, and your penis. It's too much. We've got to cut back on things, make this simple enough for you to do by yourself."

"The lubricant."

"Baby, I don't want you to rub yourself raw."

"I won't."

"Are you sure?"

"Greasy mess."

"Alright. Second, and most importantly, you cannot use my voice as a source for your excitement. You need to use the tablet, but we need to set it up somewhere so you don't need to hold it. I was happy to help you once, but your Mother cannot talk you into a climax every time. It isn't right."

"Wasn't just your voice."

"I'm very flattered, but not again. Tomorrow, I will remain in the chair. If you need help at the very end collecting the sample, I can do that."

"Okay."

***

At breakfast the next morning, we were all assembled in the kitchen for the first time since my initial sperm sample was harvested with the assistance of Mom.

Lia asked Mom how it went.

"It was fine, Lia. We got a good specimen. Now, we just have to get 19 more like that."

"Did you stay in there with him, Mom?" Lia asked. Of course, I was right there at the table beside Lia while she asked about me, but this was par for the course at my home.

"Yes, honey."

Emma muttered, "Ugh, did you have to watch or listen to some nasty porn video?"

Mom answered, "Em, I'm very proud of your brother. He did not need pornography to excite himself. In fact, the video he watched was on youtube, and the young lady dancing was never even completely naked."

I cursed to myself. Here it goes. When I glanced up, Mom was beaming at me.

"It was just a video of a woman dancing?" Lia asked.

"Yes, it was an old video, and it seemed like the girl filmed it herself in her apartment. It was shot from the knees to her belly. She just took off her shirt and her pants and danced. She was wearing panties and a bra."

"What was it called?" Emma asked.

"Her name was Keyra Constantina."

I growled and took a bite of my fructose-free breakfast bar.

Both of my sisters immediately brought out their phones, searching for the video, evidently. They had Internet access on their phones. I got the cheap flip phone hand-me-down from Mom.

Lia announced that she'd found it.

Emma asked, "How'd you spell it? Let me see."

Mom came over and stood behind my sisters' chairs. "Yes, those are the videos, Lia." She looked at Emma's. "Yes, you've found them, too, honey."

"Which ones?" Lia asked.

Mom pointed. Emma set her phone on the table. All three watched the video on Lia's phone. I heard the music and took a drink of water.

"Oh, my gosh, this is old!" Lia exclaimed.

"I bet she's in her fifties now!" Emma added.

"I'm almost fifty!" Mom argued.

Emma shook her head. Lia sighed, "Mom!" They watched.

I kept eating.

"She's skinny," Lia noted.

Emma nodded. "Look at her bottom, though. It's kinda big."

Every now and then, one of them would glance at me during the video. I felt it.

When the video ended, Lia complained, "You never even get to see her face."

Emma said, "Mom, I think your son's an ass man!"

"Emma! Language!"

"Sorry," she said, suppressing a giggle. Lia was holding back laughter, too.

I finished, grabbed my big blanket, and curtly excused myself. They watched me go.

"Grumpy bear," Emma warned. They giggled.

I curled up on the couch and watched tv.

***

Mom came home at 10:00am, same as the day before.

We went upstairs. Mom had the tablet. I had the empty specimen jar.

Inside my room, she said, "Lia might be curious as to how this works. It's not something they spend a great deal of time on at nursing school, and it is true that she is somewhat inexperienced in these matters. I've been considering using this as an opportunity to help her understand."

I stared at her.

"You don't want her in here, do you?"

"No."

"Okay." She locked the door. "You may undress yourself. I'm going to find a place to put this tablet so that you don't have to hold it.

I stripped down naked, watching Mom lean over my bed and move one of my pillows against the wall. I remembered the day before—how she'd drawn up the last few drops with her own hand, how she'd talked about all the places to ejaculate. I watched Mom's bottom; it was big and shapely. She was wearing tight yoga pants today—something I'm not sure I'd ever seen her wear before. I'd never seen her butt so clearly, except maybe when we went swimming.

I felt my penis begin to fill and grow.

"Okay," she said. She turned around and quickly skimmed my naked body with her eyes. Then, she pointed to where my bed abutted the wall. "I've put a pillow there, so you can prop the tablet up on it and lean it against the wall. Will that work, baby?"

I nodded.

"Don't forget the container," she said, pointing behind me to my desk.

I grabbed it and took off the lid.

She nodded toward the corner. "I'll be in the chair. Call for me if you need my help at the end."

I watched her walk over and sit down. My penis was nearly hard. She glanced at it, and then teacher-smiled and nodded at me. I laid in bed, placing the sample container next to my left leg.

I turned on the tablet, found Keyra, and put on my favorite video.

When Keyra pulled off her tight white pants and spun around to show me her butt, I grabbed my hard penis and stroked away. After a few seconds, I heard Mom.

"Baby?"

I stopped, paused the video, and turned to her.

"You're being too rough with your erection. Be more gentle."

"Won't feel it."

She stood up and walked closer. "When you have lubricant, you can be more aggressive—but never too aggressive. Without any lubricant, you must be more gentle or you may damage your skin or even your penis."

I hesitated.

Mom sat on her heels beside me, her head next to mine. She said, "I know the boys all call it 'whacking off' or 'jerking off,' but you mustn't think of it or do it that way. Think of it as giving your penis a relaxing massage. Touch it the way you would touch someone you love, baby. Go ahead, let me see."

I grabbed it.

"No," she explained. "Grasp it firmly, but don't squish it. Let the pads of your fingers...here." She adjusted my grip with her hand. "More like this," she said. Her eyes squinted and she shook her head. "No, wait." She lifted my index finger and adjusted it again. Then she said, "Let go. Just let go of it."

She wrapped her fingers around my penis and looked me in the eyes. "Like this. Do you feel the difference?"

"Yeah."

She let go. "You try it."

I mimicked her grip.

"Now, don't yank, but massage."

I stroked myself, but more slowly.

She stopped my hand with hers. "It's not about just going slower, baby. Look." She pulled my hand away, and grasped my penis again. She tugged the skin up the shaft, squeezing firmly as she went up, and then releasing and almost petting it on the way down. She did this several times. I gasped.

She stopped and let go, clearing her throat. "Now, you do it."

I grabbed it as she'd taught me, and I did my best to reproduce the motion she'd shown me. She watched.

"Does it feel better?"

I shrugged.

"You seemed to like it when I did it. Are you not doing it right?"

"I don't know."

She rose to her feet beside me. "Let's finish this together, then." She pulled my leg to the side of the bed and began to climb in between my knees. I spread my legs for her, and she sat on her heels. She pushed my hand away. "I want you to watch, feel, and learn, okay, baby?"

I nodded.

Mom handed me the empty container. "You take this." Then, her fingers curled around my erection, and she began the slow massage-pumping action. Warmth invaded my entire body; goosebumps rose everywhere on my skin. I felt my hair grow erect on my arms, legs and all over my head. I closed my eyes and drew long breaths.

"Do you feel it?" she asked, soothingly.

"Yeah."

Suddenly, she stopped. Her hand let me go. I opened my eyes, and her hands were on her hips. She looked concerned.

"What?" I asked.

"I don't like doing this without lubricant. The penis is a very sensitive organ."

I waited for her. Her face took on a look of decision, and she stated, "I'm going to use my saliva."

Mom bent over me. Her lips pursed, and a bubbly white dollop of spit emerged, hung for a moment and fell from her mouth down over the tip of my penis. It ran down one side before her hand swept it up and kneaded it into the skin. She did it again, rubbing it all around my erection.

Her jaw began pumping, like she was chewing something, and her cheeks drew in and out. She was gathering more saliva. She bent forward and spit it on my penis with a small "pwut." Her fingers painted it over my erection. She gathered more and spit again.

Her hand began to glide all around with very little friction. "There," she said.

"Mom?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Do girls think penises are gross?"

"Some do. Most don't." Her hand began to undulate, and her fingers kneaded my erection. She kept talking. "I hope some girl didn't say that to you. Yours is lovely. It is very hard and strong in my hand. The little upward bend of the tip will be very special for your girl during vaginal intercourse. No, don't ever let anyone tell you that your penis isn't perfect." Her hand rose and fell a few more times before she asked, "Baby, do you have a lot of experience?"

I shook my head.

She smiled. "I didn't think so, though there's no reason for you not to have. You're big, strong, and very handsome. I was always surprised you didn't have more girlfriends in high school."

She just kept talking and massaging.

"But, then you're shy. That's the only explanation. So girls don't get to see how sweet and cuddly you really are...oh, it's getting dried out."

She bent over my penis, gathered up saliva and opened her lips. It flowed out and drenched the tip.

"Do girls hate giving oral sex, Mom?"

"Some do. Many don't. Those that do hate it are often doing it incorrectly, like not coming up with an ejaculate plan beforehand." She looked up at me.

I watched her and said nothing.

She explained, "An ejaculate plan is nothing more than an agreement about what to do with the semen when you ejaculate. You must always have a plan before you begin. Another incorrect way would be if her teeth get in the way. It can be very uncomfortable for you, and if you don't like it, then the woman won't either."

I nodded when she glanced up at me.

"For a penis like yours, a woman will have to be very careful with her teeth."

I just watched her.

Mom stared down at her hand gliding up and down the length of my erection. Finally, she said, "Let me show you." She let go of my penis. She sat up on her knees, scooted back a ways, and then leaned forward. I looked along her back; it sloped up to her bottom, and I saw the crescent shaped mounds of her cheeks. They looked like the tops of two basketballs, side by side, hidden under black yoga pants.

She grasped my erection from her new position and raised it vertically. She looked at it, and the looked up my chest into my eyes.

"You see," she said, "with how thick yours is, your girl will need to open her mouth like this." Mom stretched her jaw open, and a black crease formed down each side of her mouth. She pointed the tip into the dark, gaping hole between her straining lips. I held my breath.

She drew my penis away from her face and closed her mouth. "Did it look like I could have fit your erection inside my mouth?"
I nodded.

"Now watch," she said. She opened her lips like a huge yawn and drew the tip of my penis toward it. Suddenly, her lips drew back, unveiling two rows of white teeth. Mom very gently bit down on the tip. I caught a short breath.

She released me.

"Would you want to feel that, running up and down your erection, baby?"

I shook my head.

"No. Of course not," she murmured. "There's a right way and a wrong way for everything. Oral sex is no different."

I didn't say anything.

"Inexperienced couples don't know what the right way should be like, and sometimes they don't feel comfortable talking about such things. It can lead to real problems during intimacy."

I watched her face move even closer to my erection, and I felt her breath cascade over the tip. Her eyes rose and connected with mine.

"I...I'm going to put your penis in my mouth for a moment—just so you can learn, okay baby?"

I swallowed and nodded once.

She looked up and down the shaft, and then her mouth formed an enormous oval. I saw her fleshy pink tongue waiting inside. She drew my penis toward it and closed her eyes.

My jaw fell open.

Her soft lips took the entire tip in a wet embrace. Her tongue felt hot against it. Then, without a sound, I watched her lips unfurl and descend down the shaft, collecting another half inch and then clasping around it. Her lips opened and stretched again, and she gathered another half inch. And again. She gorged still more, and the tip of my penis pressed firmly against some smooth and slippery surface hidden in the back of her throat. Finally, with half of my penis in her mouth, Mom's lips began to lazily glide up and down, while her fat tongue nudged and dragged against the underside.

The warm sensation I had earlier felt was now gone. It was replaced by rippling heat, like being immersed in a bubbling jacuzzi, only this heat was under my skin, and it originated at the tip of my erection, where Mom's lips encased my penis, and spread from there to every limb.

When Mom's mouth opened, and my full erection reappeared, I blinked and swallowed. I drew long breaths. I had been laying down flat. Now, I was propped up on my elbows, looking down at her.

Her face was partially hidden by my penis when she asked, "Would you like to ejaculate in my mouth this time? To understand?"

I nodded.

"Saliva won't interfere with the results."

I nodded again.

"I'll have to be careful not to swallow any."

"Okay."

"And when you think it's over, I'm going to use my hand to get the last few drops into my mouth."

I nodded.

"Just hand me the cup when my mouth comes off your penis."

"Okay." I grabbed the jar and held it tightly.

"Don't worry, but try not to move too much. Relax and just let your semen fill my mouth, okay, baby?"

I nodded, and Mom pushed her tongue against the tip, and then closed her lips around it. Her head rose and fell, turning slightly so that I wasn't always looking at her bright red locks, but also seeing the side of her face sometimes—her cheek, her nose, her eyelashes, and her lips as they clutched and drew upon my penis.

I felt my chest rise and fall more rapidly. I squeezed my hands into fists on my stomach, still gripping the sample jar in one of them. When I grunted, Mom squeaked into my erection. Her head rose and fell, I grunted again, and she whimpered. I was ejaculating.

I grumbled like a bear while my the length of my penis rapidly squeezed. I felt the fluid pour forth from the tip in great bursts. Mom's lips clasped my penis just beneath the tip. I felt her fingers suddenly take hold of the base and knead up the shaft. The tip, still inside Mom's mouth, felt immersed in semen. Then, the throbbing eased.

Mom's fingers worked up the shaft caterpillar-like. When she reached the top, she started again, back at the base. Her head was completely still, but her hand worked feverishly to coax up any remaining fluids. I felt suction, as if the tip were suddenly tugged hard, and then Mom's hand let go.

She hummed, and I pushed the container into her empty hand. She took it. I felt her lips ease and let the tip of my penis slide free. Her head rose. She drew the cup toward her mouth and looked at me. Then, she opened her mouth. My semen poured from her lips into the container. A few final globs oozed out and hung on her lower lip. Mom spat them free, and then sat up on her heels.

I collapsed back on the bed and covered my face with my hands.

I felt Mom climb out of bed, and I heard her walk to my desk and screw the lid on the jar. I watched her come back beside me. "You did good, baby. I'll put this in the freezer, and then I need to get back to work."

I nodded. She reached out and took my hand. She squeezed it and then let it go. I listened to her leave my bedroom, closing the door behind her.

My bed had never felt so perfectly comfortable.

***

That night after dinner, Mom took me aside and told me that she was going to have Lia join us for the next morning's session.

"Why?"

Mom said, "Well, baby, I told Lia that it was for her edification. As you know, she hasn't any idea how this works. She's is nursing school, and it would help her to understand this process."

"I don't want her there, Mom. It's embarrassing."

"You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I, however, do."

I stared at her.

She sighed. "I should not have used my mouth to help you ejaculate. An observer might even say that I performed fellatio on you."

I shook my head.

"No, baby, it's true. I was trying to help you learn, and I may have gotten carried away." She sighed, again. "The important thing is that we got a good sperm sample from you."

"But, why is Lia..."

Mom interrupted me. "I didn't just invite her to see and learn. I also invited her so that I would not be tempted to intrude upon you again."

"But, you helped."

"That's very sweet of you, but this is my decision. Lia will sit in and learn; I will keep my hands to myself."

"Emma isn't coming, too, is she?"

"No, baby, Emma's going shopping for presents in the morning with some friends."

I sat silently.

"Okay?"

I nodded.

"Now, tomorrow I would like you to use lubrication."

I nodded.

"I picked up a pillow rest for the tablet today—like a triangle-shaped pad that will hold it up. You can use that for your sexy dancing videos."

I nodded.

"If you need help at the end with the jar, just let me know."

"Okay."

"All set, then?"

"Yeah," I said, and then a thought occurred to me. "Mom, with Lia in there, I might get nervous."

"Oh." She considered this, and then, finally, said, "Tell you what, I'll invite her in the room only after you have an erection."

It was decided.

***

The three of us walked upstairs toward my room. Both of them were wearing tight pants that highlighted their butts. Lia was behind me, and I nudged Mom. When I had her attention, I surreptitiously pointed my thumb back toward Lia, and kind of bugged my eyes, trying to remind Mom of what we'd discussed the night before.

She nodded.

At the door my bedroom, Mom stopped. "Lia, dear, will you please wait here. I'll call you in when he's ready."

"Mom, I'd just as soon not come in at all. This is weird."

"Not weird, educational. Wait here. I'm going to help him relax."

"But...!"

"I've made my decision. Now, please wait."

"Okay," she said.

Mom locked the door behind us.

I undressed and laid on the bed. Mom handed me everything. On my left, we set up the tablet on the new reading pad. I turned it on and opened youtube while Mom unscrewed the lid of the container and set it beside the tablet. Then, I took the lube from her and set it beside me on the right.

She said, "Put some on, please."

"After it gets hard."

She gave me a look.

"It's weird when I'm soft."

She considered this, and then nodded and went to the chair—there were now two of them in the room, next to each other about five feet from my bed, level with my head.

Satisfied, I opened a new video on youtube. This one featured a voluptuous model named Veronika Podkapova. The clip featured moments from what appeared to be photo shoots—several different ones—and it showcased her butt and her large breasts. What I liked about it were the close-ups of her face, showing her bright, eager brown eyes and her simple, beautiful smile.

I sensed Mom lean forward, maybe noticing the new model, and watch the video.

I rubbed my penis, but it was not working. I kept thinking about Lia, waiting outside the door.

After about three minutes, Mom said, "Use the lubricant."

I whispered, "Nervous, Mom. Lia."

Mom said, "Can't you find..."

I held my finger to my lips.

She whispered, "Can't you find a video that is more distracting? You may use hardcore porn. I won't mind."

"Video's fine."

"Try something else, baby."

"I can't," I whispered, pointing toward the door.

Mom rolled her eyes and sighed at the ceiling. Then, she looked at me like she had an idea. She rose and walked to me, kneeling beside the bed by my hip. She smiled. Her hands slid up her tummy and over her breasts. She looked down at them and squeezed them into her fingers. Her hands could not encompass them; they were too big.

She looked at me. "Does this help?"

I could not respond.

She did it again. I watched and felt my heart pump.

I said, "Will you touch your bottom?"

Her eyes widened for just a fraction of a second, and then she nodded. She stood and turned around. Mom's butt bulged out from her lower back toward me. Her hips curved toward her thighs. Light shined off her pants at the most prominent point on each round globe. A dark line ran horizontally across the bottom of her butt, where the two plump cheeks perched on the top of her thighs. Gravity, the passage of time, and some added weight made her butt more full and feminine.

Mom's hands glided along the outer curve of her thighs and hips up to her waist. She moved her butt from side to side as her hands slid back down. She put her palms against each hefty cheek and squeezed. I saw how soft the flesh of her bottom was in the way her fingers sunk into voluptuous buns. Her fingers clutched her skin through her tight pants, pulling the halves apart, and then squeezing them together.

Her head twisted toward me.

I nodded and whispered, "Beautiful, Mom. Show me?"

She turned away. Her thumbs slipped under the waistband at her hips. Her shoulders rose and fell, and then she pushed.

Milky white skin appeared like a sunrise against the black pants. If anything, as her butt unfurled to me, the curvature was enhanced. It was as if the tight pants didn't allow her bottom's true shape to show itself. It was more plump, more fleshy, more feminine. She stopped halfway down.

I reached out. When she felt my finger slip inside the waistband, she flinched. Yet, she allowed me to tug her pants over the outermost crest and down to the top of her thighs.

Her skin was flawless in color—no moles, no blemishes. Each cheek has a small patch of stretch marks running laterally away from the crack about halfway down. I lightly ran my fingers over each half. I pressed my hand against one cheek. It was silky smooth against the pads of my hand. I squeezed and kneaded. It was doughy. I drew the tip of my thumb gently up and down the crack. At the bottom, I cupped the flesh and squeezed it, tugging one side away from the other and briefly exposing her tiny, pink anus. I let go and the little hole vanished inside her flesh.

She pulled up her pants and turned around, looking at my penis. It was hard.

"Are you ready?"

"I think so."

She reached down and wrapped her fingers around it. She stroked it twice, and then let go. "You're ready, baby."

"Thank you, Mom."

She smiled. "I'm going to let Lia in. Just ignore us—pretend like were not even here." She walked toward the door, but stopped and turned back to me. "Use the lubricant."

I turned the video back on, and then opened the lid of the vaseline. I heard Lia walk in. She and Mom walked across the room to the chairs. I wiped the vaseline on my erection and spread it around with my fingers. I took it in my hand and made sure my hand was slippery.

"Is he normal-sized?" I heard Lia whisper.

"No, he's big."

"I thought so."

I began to masturbate, forgetting completely the instructions Mom had given me the day before.

I heard her clear her throat. "Massage it, baby. Like we talked about."

Lia asked, "Massage?"

"He shouldn't jerk or stroke too strongly. It can damage his penis."

"Oh."

They watched in silence for a bit, and then Lia asked Mom if she could see what I was watching.

"Sure. He won't mind."

I heard Lia pull her chair closer. Soon, she was right next to me, leaning over and watching Veronica smile and slowly undress. "This is different, Mom. This woman has really large breasts, like us."

Mom walked over and looked. "Yes, but is this tasteful, like the other ones he enjoys."

Veronica turned around, and her perfect, big bottom moved in circles for the camera.

Lia said, "Bottoms again."

"He really likes them," Mom said.

I glanced up at her. She smiled down at me.

I'd forgotten to use my technique again, and Mom said, "Stop, baby."

I did.

"Firm, but gentle grip. Massage up, and caress down, okay?"

I nodded.

I sensed Lia turn toward Mom. "How was that, Mom? Do what?"

"Massage up the erection, and caress down."

"Like this?" Lia asked. She raised her forearm and used her other hand to perform the act as described by Mom.

"That's close, Lia. Here." Mom took hold of Lia's arm and did it.

I wasn't watching my video any more.

"Try it on my arm," Mom suggested. She held out her arm, and Lia stroked and massaged it.

"Like that?"

"Yes. Good, Lia."

"But, forearms have a much different shape."

"And texture," Mom added. "It's very different with an erect penis."

Lia looked at me, and then at my erection.

"Lia," Mom began, "for educational purposes, do you want to try it on him?"

"I don't know, Mom. I think that crosses a line."

"Only if you want to Lia, and it does not cross any line. This is for your learning. There is a perfect subject in front of you."

Lia argued, "He doesn't want that."

Mom and I glanced at each other. She touched my shoulder. "Would you care?" she asked. "To help your sister?"

"Okay."

Lia glanced up at Mom. "Are you sure, Mom?"

"It's up to you, dear."

Lia slid from the chair and walked on her knees down to the level of my hips.

Mom cautioned, "That's vaseline, Lia, so your hands are going to get greasy."

"That's okay," she said. Her voice sounded airy and nervous.

Then, Mom added, "You may want to put some on your hands first, to make sure you're hands aren't too dry."

Lia took the container.

"Just get a little on your fingertips, and when you rub it on his penis, it will lubricate your hand."

"Okay." She swiped her fingers into the tub, and then closed the lid and set it on the floor. She reached for my erection with her hand and paused. "Do I just...I mean, should I..."

"Here," Mom said. She knelt beside Lia and guided her hand to the shaft. When she touched it, Lia said, "It's really warm." Mom led Lia's fingers up, down, and around my penis, spreading the vaseline all around. "Okay," Lia said. "I've got it."

She grabbed my penis gently and slid her hand along the length.

I snatched a breath.

Lia stopped.

Mom asked if her hand was lubricated enough.

Lia nodded. "Uh-huh."

"Then, dear, you may grasp it like we practiced earlier."

She did.

"Now, I think of it like milking a cow—which isn't something I've never done before, so it may not be the best metaphor, but it's how I think of it. I'm massaging the erection up to draw the milk—semen, pardon me, out. On the way down, I'm merely caressing it—giving a loving pet."

Lia's hand came alive on my penis. I felt her fingers undulate as they slid upwards, and then relax on the way down. I moaned, and my erection throbbed.

"Oh!" Lia cried, staring at me, wide eyed.

"What, dear?" Mom asked.

"It moved. I felt it squeeze."

"That's the muscle contracting—it's the same muscle that he uses to ejaculate."

"Is he starting to ejaculate?"

"No, not yet. It's a sign that you're doing it correctly," she explained. Then Mom looked at me and asked if I was comfortable. Lia stopped, waiting for my response.

"Yeah," I muttered.

"I'm doing it right?" Lia asked.

I nodded. I had to have looked like I was utterly at her command, a thing she could please or deny with a simple flick of her wrist.

"Oh, my gosh, this is so cool," she uttered, almost whispering. She gazed at her hand as it stroked. "Mom, should I use two hands?"

"On a penis like his, you can, but it isn't necessary. Besides, you'd need more lubricant for another hand. Best to stick with just the one, dear."

"Okay, how will I know when he's ready?"

"He should tell you, but if he doesn't, you can feel the muscle contract more regularly. You'll feel his penis grow larger..."

"Larger than this?" Lia interrupted.

"Yes. It will fill with even more blood, grow even more firm in your hand. His breathing may also be a clue. He may vocalize his readiness."

"Okay."

Mom watched Lia, and she seemed eager to say something else. Her hand was up by her face, and her index finger was tapping on her lower lip. Finally, she said, "I'm going to sit beside you Lia." She moved around Lia and sat on the bed near my knees. "One thing that may help tempt the semen out is to—very gently—massage his testicles, like this."

Mom reached between my legs and cupped my scrotum with her left hand. Then, she began rolling my balls across her fingers. I moaned.

"It's flexing again, Mom."

"Lia, when it's time, push his penis down to his tummy. I'll hold the cup. Try not to move left or right."

"You'll let me finish? I get to see it happen?"

"If you like, Lia."

She nodded.

Mom stood up, still playing with my testicles. She took the sample container and stood with one leg on both sides of Lia's kneeling body, straddling her.

The sensations on my penis and testicles were too strong. "Now, Lia."

"Okay." Lia lowered my erection to my belly, still stroking it. Mom held the cup over the tip with one hand, and continued massaging my scrotum with the other.

My body tensed. My heart thumped in my chest. My abdominals flexed and my head and chest rose off the bed. I grunted and pinched my eyes closed. I felt semen leaping out of me.

"Oh!" Lia yelled. "Oh, Mom! Look! I'm doing it!"

"Very good, dear. Keep going, even after he seems all through."

"I did it, Mom!"

"I know, Lia! Great job!"

The rush was ending for me, and I sagged onto the mattress with a long groan.

Mom let go of my testicles. "Lia, squeeze more firmly from the very bottom, close to his scrotum, and work your fingers up to the tip. Do that a few times."

"He's not done?"

"Not yet, we need to get the rest out of him."

Lia did as Mom asked, and her fingers worked a large drop from the tip of my penis. She said, "Oh, wow."

"See, Lia?"

After a few more tries with no result, Lia let me go. "Mom, can I see the sample?"

"Sure," Mom responded, handing Lia the container. "I'll fetch the lid."

On her knees beside me, I watched Lia inspect my sperm. She smelled it and tilted the cup around, watching it flow. She held the cup near her mouth, and she looked to me like she was at a bar, holding a shot of liquor.

Mom came back with the lid, took the jar, and sealed it shut. "Let's let your brother relax a bit and get cleaned up. This needs to go in the freezer." As the two left my room, I heard Mom ask if Lia had any questions.

I got up about ten minutes later and took a shower.
***

When Mom got home from work that night, she, again, took me aside for a private conversation.

"Thank you for allowing Lia to learn. I can already tell that she is more confident in herself."

I nodded.

"But, I don't want you getting used to the idea that someone is going to help you every time you need to do this."

Okay."

"Lia is learning. You are, too, so I understand. However, you must understand that, in the absence of a learning setting, these kinds of things will not be tolerated. Your mother and sister are not here for your sexual excitement. Do you understand?"

I nodded.

"I am available to help you tomorrow morning, if you need me here."

I nodded. "Please, Mom."

"Alright. Now, I would like you to use your special bottom videos to excite yourself tomorrow."

"Okay."

***

I disconnected our wifi before Mom came home.

A few minutes later and after several attempts to find a wifi connection, Mom told me to close up the tablet. "I will help you, baby. What can I do?"

"Your bottom?"

The tiniest of smiles curled on her lips, but she sighed as if annoyed, and turned around. "Will you need to touch it?"

"Faster that way."

"Alright."

I was naked, but I hadn't applied any lubricant. She backed up, and I sat up in bed, hanging my legs over the side. Her butt came at me, and I said, "Bend over."

She did.

I ran my hands over it. She was wearing jeans, and the cut accentuated her curves, but it did not lend itself to touching. The thick denim only gave me a sense of shape, not feel.

"Up," I said, and she rose. I reached around her hips and touched the button. Mom swept my hands away. She unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. She pushed them down, wiggling her hips. Her jeans sat, bunched up, on the tops of her thighs. She left her panties on.

I slid them down, and she protested, "Do not make me put a stop to this."

I waited for her to pull them back up. She didn't.

I massaged her butt, every now and then, prying the cheeks apart to see a glimpse of her anus. I did not dare attempt to lower her pants further in order to see her vagina.

"Can I kiss your bottom?"

Her body quit moving for a moment, and then she said, "Gently, if you think it may help you."

I lowered my face toward Mom's plump, creamy-white butt. I let my lips drag circles around it without actually kissing. I touched it with my chin, softly scraping my little hairs against her velvety skin. Then, I kissed each cheek.

Mom bent over and reached between her legs. Her fingers found my penis, and it was hard and poised.

I ran the tip of my nose up and down the soft black crease, kissing the dark line where the two round spheres came together.

Mom grasped my penis and tugged on it. I laid my face on the crack of her butt, closed my eyes, and groaned. The tiny whiskers on my cheeks pressed against the sloping flesh where the two halves of Mom's bottom met. My mouth blew long puffs of air against the fissure as I felt her hand rise and fall on my erection.

I brought my hands up to her butt, drew it apart. I needed to see her little pink hole, and when I did, I knew seeing it was not enough. I bent forward and put my lips on her anus, kissing it as gently as I could. I let go of her bottom and drew away, waiting for her anger.

Nothing.

I spread her bottom again, and kissed it for longer, feeling it's texture against my lips. Then, I drew back.

I squeezed her open—still wider—with my thumbs. I leaned into the darkness. This time, I licked. I laid my tongue on the lower part of her anus, and drew it all the way up to the top of her crack and over her lower back. I waited.

Nothing.

I did it again.

This time, Mom rose up, letting go of my penis. She asked me what I wanted.

Immediately, I uttered, "Put it in your bottom."

Mom's butt swung away from me as she turned. Facing me, she looked down and declared, "Absolutely not. I cannot even believe that you would ask such a thing. It is a shocking suggestion, and you need to apologize to me, right this instant."

"I'm sorry."

"Baby, whatever made you think that I might allow you to put your penis in my bottom?"

"I'm sorry." I looked away from her, down to the floor. Nothing further was said for several long moments.

Then, she knelt between my legs. "I understand how these touches have aroused you. You got carried away. It happens." My penis was inches from her face. She glanced at it. Her hand touched my chin, and she lifted it. We looked at each other.

"I'm sorry, Mom."

"Thank you." She let my chin go, and looked at my penis again. "We need this sample. Would you like me to help you with my mouth, baby? Would that be okay?"

I nodded.

Her red curls invaded my view, and my penis was suddenly inside her mouth. I caressed her head, feeling it rise and fall. Her lips held the shaft tightly, but her tongue was soothing and delicate.

She drew up and off. "You very much like my bottom, don't you?"

I nodded.

"It's very sweet, and your touches were loving and soft. I enjoyed them."

She face tilted down, and she held my erection for a time in her lips, never moving her head. I felt only the strength and suction of her mouth. I heard a pop, and her blue eyes looked up at me.

"Maybe I could let you touch it and kiss it these times when we get your sample, would you like that? Touching and kissing my bottom to get yourself excited?"

I nodded, caressing her face. When it vanished again, I buried my fingers in her silky hair, rubbing little circles on her scalp as her mouth slid along the shaft. After several long, sweeping movements up and down, she took half of my penis into her mouth. Her head bobbed in a shallow, rapid motion. I grunted.

My body filled with a rush of energy. I drew in short breaths.

She stopped. Her lips released me, and she said, "Maybe I could let you put some things in my bottom, if that will help you learn. Would you like that? To see how that part of my body works by putting things in it?"

I nodded.

"Good. You're close, I think. Do you have the jar?"

It was beside my right hand. I grabbed it.

Mom's fingers clasped the shaft, and her lips encased the tip. She stroked me and nursed on the very tip. It was not long before my toes pressed firmly into the carpet, and I cradled Mom's head in both hands as my semen flowed up through the shaft and into her mouth. I grunted with each surge. They continued, and Mom's lips held me tight. Her hand massaged from the base to the tip. She sucked the end like a straw to entice the last few gobs free.

She glanced up at me, and I handed her the cup. Watching me, she held the cup under her bottom lip, and opened her mouth.

My semen rushed out into the waiting jar. A few thicker drops remained. She used her middle finger to wipe it from her tongue and lower lip, scraping it off on the lip of the container. She pursed her lips, cycled her jaw around, and then spit into the jar.

"Done," she said, grinning, "and we have it all." She stood up and hugged my head. "Thank you, baby, for making me feel special. I'm glad that my bottom excites you so, and I enjoy using my mouth to help you ejaculate for these samples." She kissed the top of my head, and then let me go.

I watched her naked butt as she walked over to the desk and screwed the lid on the specimen jar. She fastened her pants, and then she blew me a kiss and left my room.

After she left for work, I reconnected the wifi.

I laid on the couch, wondering what she meant by "things."

***

End Note: All errors belong to me. Please forgive. My regular editor is very busy with other projects. -FS