### RX-308 ###

Yes, Son, Yes!
By Jane Tanner


FOREWORD DEAR ABBY:
I am writing fast and am going to mail this before I lose my nerve. What do you do when you 
love your husband who is...

I have been 100 percent faithful to my husband (thank God thoughts don't count) but it is 
getting more difficult. I have been invited to go to bed with three different men this year, so 
maybe my hunger is obvious.

The fact remaining I don't want to break up my home or anybody else's with an affair, but 
I am going crazy trying to be a good wife.

... I would like to hear from other women with this problem. I can't believe I'm the only 
love-starved woman around.

CLIMBING THE WALLS


The above is an excerpt from an actual letter which appeared recently in the DEAR ABBY 
newspaper column. Unfortunately, Climbing the Walls is right, she is not the only love-starved 
woman around. There are countless women like her in the United States today.

Perhaps the most pitiable among these are the long-suffering wives of the gallant men 
whose misfortune it was to become Prisoners of War or listed as Missing In Action in faraway 
Vietnam.

Ironically, however, should these wives of military heroes falter and become unfaithful, the 
very society which sent their husbands away to battle in the name of Freedom would 
condemn the left-behind wives unmercifully.

Such is the attitude of America today. Sad to say, when understanding is needed the most,
just then is when it is most often withheld completely.

It is into the inkwell of this social injustice which Jane Tanner has dipped her provocative 
pen for the theme of her latest novel, Yes, Son, Yes! With graphic realism, Mrs. Tanner has 
zeroed in on the sexual cravings due to conjugal deprivation of one particular woman, Mrs. 
Harriet Burke, the wife of an Air Force major missing in action for nearly two years. Like 
Climbing the Walls who wrote to DEAR ABBY, Harriet is also going crazy trying to be a good 
wife.

Harriet's life situation has become a nightmare of loneliness and frustration. A decent 
woman, she's been doing her dead-level best to remain true to her MIA husband and raise 
their twelve-year-old son properly. But trying to deny her physical love hunger doesn't make it
go away. When her own son starts looking good to her, Harriet realizes she has to do 
something. Choosing the less wicked of her two sinful options, incest or adultery, she decides 
to take a lover. Only her decency won't let her become emotionally involved with another 
man, so long as there's a chance her husband might be alive, and she can't go through with it.
Instead, feeling shamed and perverted about it, Harriet answers a college boy's ad in an 
underground newspaper.
As the story opens, Harriet's son Regan is spending the night with a pal and Harriet is 
anxiously waiting for the college boy to arrive. He arrives but, faced with the reality of the 
sordid situation, Harriet tries to back out. She is tipsy. The young man takes advantage of her. 
They wind up copulating abandonedly.
Afterward, sorely ashamed of herself, Harriet gets quite drunk. Her son comes home 
unexpectedly and catches her going down on the college boy. At the young stud's invitation, 
Regan joins the party.

Due to an alcoholic blackout, Harriet doesn't remember most of her night of shame the 
following morning. But Regan won't let Harriet be. She is horrified over what Regan tells her 
they did. Regan has been sexually awakened. He keeps after Harriet and, little by little, the 
mother and son sink into perversion and incest.

The mother's morals fall gradually away as she and her young son explore the lurid joys of 
sexual intercourse, fellatio and cunnilingus, sodomy, and, toward the end of the book, an orgy
with a similarly incest-oriented father and daughter, during the heat of which Harriet 
witnesses bestial intercourse then gets talked into taking on a huge Doberman pinscher 
herself.

You will find the Rated X books, along with their companions, the Surrey Collectors' Series 
and the HIS 69 gay titles at your favorite adult bookstore or newsstand each and every month.
Serious collectors of strictly adult reading will want them all, side by side on their private book
shelves for definite re-reading and ready reference.

We want to make all Surrey House, Inc. books the perfect reflection of your reading and 
sexual desires and invite your comments at all times, so we can better serve you. We urge you 
to write us with exact details of what kind of books you would like to read, and any other 
sexual matters you are concerned about, IN ABSOLUTE, STRICT CONFIDENCE. It is not even 
necessary to identify yourself in any way. Only in this manner can we be sure we are giving 
you precisely what you desire. No matter is too complex for you to approach us with, and 
nothing is too difficult for us to attempt... but only if you want it... and only if you take the 
time to write us with your specific requirements.

Only you can do it. We here at Surrey House, Inc. only exist to serve you in these matters 
of great concern.

All especially significant letters will be answered directly, and all story suggestions will be 
turned over to our staff of writers all over the world.

-THE PUBLISHERS San Diego, California April, 1973


CHAPTER ONE

She could hardly wait. He would be arriving any minute now, young and healthy, eager to 
screw her. Lord, how she needed it-a good hard cock!

Please forgive me, Curt, I never meant to be unfaithful to you! the forty-year-old wife of 
Major Curtis Burke, USAF, missing in action for nearly two years, thought guiltily. But I don't 
even know if you're alive or dead... and I'm about to go out of my mind! I've got to have relief!
I can't help it! Our little boy's peter is even starting to look good to me!

Harriet splashed equal amounts of Scotch and soda over the ice cubes in her glass. She 
began pacing the floor again, nervously sipping at her second drink, hoping the alcohol would
dull her outraged conscience.
A basically decent woman, it was only when she found herself lusting incestuously after her 
own little boy that she realized the sexual cravings of her deprived body and tortured mind 
could no longer be denied.

A lover, she thought then, deciding she would follow the understandable-if-not acceptable 
example already set by countless love-hungry MIA and POW wives like her.

But she couldn't do it. It would get out, no matter how discreetly she conducted an 
extramarital, affair. She would be disgraced, her innocent young son shamed.
Besides, she loved her husband with all her aching heart. As long as there was even the 
slightest chance that Curt was still alive, she just couldn't betray him by letting herself get 
amorously involved with another man. It was sex not love that her tormented body screamed 
for, and she found the answer to her dilemma in the personal ads of an underground 
newspaper.

A young college student. She'd written to him. They'd talked on the phone, exchanged 
snapshots by mail. Twice she'd backed out. He understood her problem, didn't pressure her.

Now she was ready.

"Yes, Bob, I do want to see you," she'd said when he called to confirm their meeting. "No, 
I'm not going to back out this time. My son's spending the night with one of his little friends. 
What time will you be here?... Yes, nine will be fine... No, you won't need rubbers. I hate them...
That's right, park your car down the block and be careful that no one sees you."

At five of nine Harriet finished off her third Scotch and soda. She was tipsy.

Good. I need to be, she thought, her hands shaking with nervous anticipation as she made
herself a fourth drink.

Waves of unsureness washed over her. She paced. Sipped at her drink. Went to the mirror 
to check her appearance.

Will he like me? Am I still desirable?

The snapshot she'd sent him was more than three years old. In it she'd had on hot pants 
and halter. Her husband had taken it on a Sunday afternoon when they'd gone to the 
mountains for a picnic, her and Curt and their son Regan who'd been nine at the time.

Harriet was forty now. Thinner. Slightly haggard-looking. The last two and a half years had 
taken their toll. Make-up could no longer mask completely the deepening bags under her 
hazel eyes, nor the definite crow's-feet at their corners. Her lips were still full and sensuous, 
painted bright red now, but faint lines of age not laughter were beginning to appear at the 
corners of her mouth. She wore her brunette hair in a shag cut, kept it dyed and loosely 
curled. The fetching new frock clung becomingly to the swells and hollows of her 
five-foot-three form. Worry had brought her weight down to a hundred and five, eight 
pounds below what was considered ideal for her small-boned frame.

Yes, she was still attractive, only slender and haunted-looking, like a model, rather than 
plump and happy, the way Curt, if he was alive, would remember her.

The doorbell rang. Harriet nearly jumped out of her high-heeled pumps. He's here! Oh, 
God, what am I doing? I can't go through with this!
Nervously she gulped the rest of her drink. She felt cheap. Her heart beat faster, harder, as she
moved toward the door, her hands checking her hair, smoothing her dress.

She opened the door a crack, peered out at his chest then up at his face. "I ca- can't do it,"
she squeaked. "I'm sorry, Bob."

His smile faded. He caught the door as she tried to push it closed. "I came all the way over,
Mrs. Burke. The least you could do is invite me in. We can talk, can't we?"

Harriet hesitated. He was a tall, virile youth, better-looking than the snapshot he'd sent 
her. "Look, I'm not going to rape you."

It isn't you I'm worried about, it's me! she thought.

Ashamed of herself for trying to shut the door in his face, she said, "Yes, of course, do 
come in. I hope you'll forgive my manners. It's just that I've never, uh, done anything like this 
before."

Bob stepped in, closed the door behind him. "Is anything wrong?" "I'm scared shitless," 
she admitted.
"No need to be." He smiled, offered his hand. Relieved that he didn't try to kiss her, Harriet 
shook hands with the handsome youth.

"Would you like a drink? Are you old enough? You're not, are you? Nineteen, didn't you 
say?"

"Yes, but I'm mature for my age, and I would like a drink, thank you. Whatever you're 
having will be fine."

Harriet was a bundle of nerves. She made drinks. They sat, he on one end of the couch and
she on the other, and talked. About him. The courses he was taking in college. His plans for 
the future. About her. The many interesting places she and Curt had lived during his Air Force 
career.

"It must be hell, not knowing if your husband is alive or dead." "With a capital H. Would 
you like another drink?"
He shook his head, showed her a half-full glass. "Do you mind if I smoke?" "Of course not." 
She got him an ash tray. Freshened her drink.
When she sat back down, he was slouched comfortably with his heels on the coffee table, 
ankles crossed, smoking, to her relief, an ordinary cigarette. Evidently Bob was mature for his 
age, and perfectly at ease with women old enough to be his mother. It was good to have male
companionship, even if he wasn't yet a man.
Harriet was glad he'd made her let him in. Her nerves were settling down. She could feel the 
alcohol taking effect.

This is my last drink. I mustn't get drunk, she told herself, but she finished it and had 
another.

He excused himself, went to the bathroom, then said he guessed he'd better be going 
unless she'd changed her mind.
"I can't, Bob. My husband. I wouldn't feel right about it." Her words were a bit slurred now, her
expression relaxed, her eyes dreamy. "But it's early, and I'm enjoying our conversation. Don't 
go just yet. Let me fix you another drink."

"All right, Harriet."

Her own glass was empty. She refilled it and freshened his drink.

The conversation turned to sex. General not personal. He decried the double standard, 
said it was outdated, that women had sex needs same as men.

"You shouldn't be ashamed of your needs," he said. "Or of fulfilling them, under the 
circumstances, outside of marriage."

"I suppose you're right. I know you are." She turned up her glass and took a big swallow of
Scotch and soda. Laughed self-consciously. "But I was raised in a different world from today. 
Girls of my generation-"

"You can't live in the past," he broke in. "No one can."

He slid closer, took her hand, locked his fingers through hers and squeezed. Harriet's 
cheeks flushed. She returned his hand squeeze and blinked up at him. He took her drink, 
leaned across her and set it on the lamp table.

"No, Bob, you mustn't," she breathed, as his arm closed around her and drew her near.

Harriet felt lighthearted as the youth's firm lips pressed demandingly upon hers. She 
whimpered softly and closed her eyes. The tip of his tongue probed insistently between her 
oral petals, wriggling, teasing, coaxing. Her heart beat faster. Little by little her mouth opened 
to him. He slipped the tip of his tongue between her parting teeth.

It's been so long! One kiss! What can it hurt? she thought and, shivering with pent-up 
emotion, she began licking back at his invading taste organ.

"MMM!" she moaned, sucking his tongue, letting him feed it all to her.

His hand cupped a breast through her clothes-it made a handful with a little left over-and 
he started kneading the erogenous orb.

"NOOM!" the guilt-stricken wife and mother protested, all breathy and muffled into his 
mouth.

She began squirming in sensual discomfort, pushing weakly at his shoulder. Fermentations
of desire bubbled within her. Decency demanded that she stop him now, before it was too 
late.

Not yet! Oh, God, not yet! He's only a boy! I can handle him! she thought, too drunk to 
realize that she was already losing control of herself. A stolen kiss or two! Sweet and hot! But 
nothing more! Even decent wives do that sometimes, at parties! No one thinks it's so awful!

Harriet quit pushing at Bob's shoulder. She put her arm around his neck and pressed her 
tingling tit tighter into his hand.

"Oooh!" she sighed, when he captured her tumescent nipple between his thumb and 
forefinger and started tweaking it in a passion-arousing fashion.
His tongue darted suggestively in and out of her mouth-upper persuasion for the lower 
invasion-and she continued to suck it even though he was getting her dangerously worked 
up. She had both arms around him now, her slender fingers buried in his mop of mod-length, 
sandy-colored hair.

Abruptly his hand deserted her boob and groped her dimpled knees, wedged between 
them, effected a series of soft whistling sounds as it moved jerkily up under her dress, forcing 
its way up the nylon-lined gorge of her clamped-together legs.

"NO! DON'T, BOB!" she whined, breaking the tongue-entangled kiss at last. "I CAN'T LET 
YOU! NO, NO... OH, NOO!! PLEASE, DON'T! YOU'RE GO-GOING... TOO FAR!"

"You want it as bad as I do, baby. Quit kidding yourself. This is why you answered my ad, 
isn't it?"

"YES... IT IS... BU-BUT-"

"BUT, NOTHING!" he barked. "RELAX! ENJOY IT!"

Harriet grabbed his wrist, desperately shoving at it as he wrestled her down and kissed her
again.

The earth spun crazily. Suddenly she was on her back, her legs askew and her dress hiked 
up, sucking his tongue again even as she fought for her honor. He'd had her fooled. He wasn't
mature at all. The way he was treating her now made the middle- aged housewife feel like a 
kid again herself. Fleeting memories of similar struggles with teenage boys in parked cars 
flashed unbidden through her mind from more than twenty years past, before this young 
would-be seducer was ever born. Only it was more exciting now, ten times as tempting, 
because she was a grown woman who liked her loving but had been forced to go without 
marital relations for so long that her body literally craved it.

The horny lad's strength was greater than hers, and he was on the make. He meant to take
her. Perhaps he wouldn't actually rape her, but he certainly had no qualms against forcing his 
attentions on her. She couldn't deter his hand. It was past the top bands of her nylon 
stockings now, kneading and stroking the smooth white flesh of her bare inner thighs. Higher 
and higher it crept, with Harriet thrashing about, whimpering piteously into his mouth, 
digging her red-lacquered fingernails into his wrist as she fought frenziedly to keep him from 
reaching his goal.

To no avail. His hand arrived at its destination in spite of her valiant struggling. He cupped 
her clefted mound through the sheer strip of secretion- moistened nylon and began rubbing 
her private parts. What strength she had left drained from her. She shivered. Her fingers lost 
their grip on his wrist and her arm fell limply to her side. As if they had minds of their own, her
Judas legs opened for him. She lay there on her own couch, one shoe on and one lost in the 
wrestling match that was now over, letting her pussy be vulgarly petted by the 
nineteen-year-old boy she'd never seen before tonight.

"No, Bob! Oh, damn it, don't! Quit! Go home! You mustn't! I ca-can't let you! Don't handle 
me that way! Oh, please! Oooh... no, nooh... leave me alone! I do-don't want you... to act this 
way!"

The tone of her voice said her words were lying. Bob kissed her again, effectively silencing 
her with a mouthful of tongue. He worked his hand inside her panties and sank his middle 
finger into the slippery slot of her hot, hairy hole.

Harriet shuddered with a surge of obscene pleasure. She snapped her head to the
side, breaking the kiss as he began finger-fucking her. Her wifely conscience stabbed her. 
Feeling cheap and ashamed, she pleaded, "Goddamn it, stop! Ohh... no- oooh! Don't! Stop! 
Oh, don't! Oh, stop! Don't... ohh... stop... ahh . ., d-don't...
st-stop... ooohhh... don't... stop... don't, stop... don't stop... aaahhh... don't stop! OH, GOD! 
HARDEE! DON'T STOP... TWO FINGERS... USE TWO FINGERS! AAAHHHH...
GOOD... IT FEELS... SOO GOODDD!!"

"Now that's better," Bob said. He added a second finger and masturbated her harder. "You
wanted to be manhandled, didn't you?"

"NOOH! I DI-DIDNT... I SWEAR I DI-DIDN'T!"

"Maybe so," he chuckled. "Okay, so you didn't want to be forced. But you're not mad at 
me, are you?"

"NOT NOW!"

"Want me to stop? Shall I leave you alone and go home?" "NO!"
"How come?" "YOU KN-KNOW!"
"Sure, but I want to hear you say it. Come on, Harriet, tell me what you want me to do to you."

"MAKE LOVE TO ME!"

She could hardly get her breath. His fingers were plundering her twat, pumping her full of 
forbidden pleasure.

"Huh-uh, no love. Just tonight and then never again, remember? That's the way you said it 
had to be. Now tell me dirty!"

"I WANT YOU... TO SCREW ME!" she panted, hunching his hand.

"You can do better than that," he taunted, suddenly ramming a third finger into her.

"AAAGGGHHH!" Harriet cried. Her vagina had shrunk from lack of use. She was almost as 
tight as a teenage girl. "YES, YES... OH, YESSS! FUCK ME! YOUR COCK... THAT'S WHAT I 
WA-WANT! IS IT HARD? TAKE IT OUT! GIVE IT TO ME! NOW! HURRY! OH, LORD, I
NNEEEEDD ITTT!! " Harriet hunched his hand, panting, grimacing with the pain/pleasure of 
being furiously frigged by not one, not two but three jabbing fingers. Lost to lust, she groped 
him wantonly, fondling his erection through his clothes. Her hand shaking, she fumbled with 
his zipper, worked it open and reached inside his fly. She slipped her hand in through the flap 
of his Jockey shorts and took hold of his penis.

Ruttishly she tugged out the object of her feral desire. She writhed about, swapping spit 
and tongues with him while he continued to pump her sopping slot. Her hand gripped his fat 
dick, explored it, stroked it.

"LORD, IT FEELS GOOD!" she whined. "YOU'VE GOT A NICE ONE! GIVE IT TO ME... YOUR 
COCK! STRIP ME NAKED AND... SHOVE IT UP INTO MEE!!"

He backed his fingers out of her and sat up. Harriet kicked off her other shoe and
began unbuttoning his shirt. The grinning youth hooked his fingers in the elastic waistband of
her step-ins. Willingly she raised her rump, helping him get the confining undergarment off 
her. He skinned the wispy briefs over the flare of her hips and the twin mounds of her tensed, 
uplifted buttocks, whisked them down the tapering columns of her nylon-sheathed legs and 
off over her small feminine feet.

"HURRY, HURRY!" she begged, unbuckling his belt.

Bob had never seen a woman so crazy for it. The urgency of Harriet's desire caught him 
up.

"WE CAN GET NAKED LATER!" he husked. "SCOOT UP, BABY! LIFT YOUR DRESS AND 
SPREAD 'EM!"

The passion-dazed wife couldn't wait, either. Her husband, dead or a POW, was the 
farthest thing from her mind. Regan, her twelve-year-old son, was sleeping over at his little 
friend's house. She was alone with this horny, muscular youth. No one would ever know. She'd
never been so hot in all her forty years. Every jangling nerve and cell in her suffering body 
cried out for sex. She had to have his teenage prick, would die if she didn't get it.

Her stockinged feet pushed at the arm of the couch, propelling her into the classic 
position of female submission. She arched her back, pulled her dress and half-slip up around 
her trim waist. Her belly heaved. It bore an appendectomy scar and oblique stretch marks 
from her long-ago pregnancy. Her dark brown triangle, standing out more prominently 
because of her arousal, sported a sprinkling of crisp, silver-gray hairs. While Bob stood beside 
the couch, dropping his pants and shorts, she spread her legs for him. One stockinged foot hit
the floor. The other flew up and she hooked her heel over the back of the couch.

His rampant rod angled upward. The tip peeked out from his taut foreskin, its slitted tip 
leaking colorless seminal fluid. In her present condition, his fully erected organ and dangling, 
wild-haired testicles were the most beautiful sight she could hope to see. Her pussy snapped 
for the filling length of his stiff lance. Her womb quivered in anticipation of the cum-bath to 
come.

"OH, HURRY!" she wailed. "PLEASE HURRY!"

Pants and shorts bunched around his ankles, he climbed between her invitingly parted 
legs and lowered himself atop her. Harriet reached down between their bared bellies. Her 
trembling hand enclosed the object of her conscience-dulling desire. She peeled back the 
foreskin and tugged on his stem, guiding its denuded dome toward her hairy crack. She 
swiped the bluntly rounded head up and down her elliptical orifice, coating it with her female 
lubricant. Then she wedged the purplish bulb between the coral flanges of her slippery slit 
and, tilting her pelvis, gave another tug.

"AAAH! PUSH, PUSH!" she squealed, an illicit thrill rippling through her as the enlarged 
dickhead parted her blood-engorged pussy petals.

Bob's buttocks tensed. He snapped his hips and drove his dork home, penetrating her to 
the hilt with one forceful thrust. The head of his thumping erection bumped her cervix. His 
balls swung forward and slapped lewdly into the fleshy valley of her soft, milk-white 
asscheeks.

A wave of sheer carnal delight washed over Harriet. She shuddered, sucked in her breath 
raggedly then let it out with a heartfelt, "AAAAGGGGHHHHH! "

"Feels good, does it?" he gloated, letting all six inches of his stalk soak in the
moist heat of her snug, velvet-like tunnel, his nuts resting in the crack of her tremulous rump.

"YES, YESSS... OH, GOD!" she moaned. "IT'S BEEN... SO LONG!"

He ground his pelvis against hers, his heated testicles brushing her puckered anus as the 
bloated crown of his embedded pecker swabbed round and around the sensitive neck of her 
pear-shaped uterus, the course-haired root of his rod mashing her elongated clitoris, rolling it 
about.

"OOOOHH... MMMMMM... AAAAHHH!" Harriet moaned, her eyes clenched shut, her 
mouth opening and closing.

The youth started screwing her with five-inch, rhythmic thrusts. This was just what she'd 
been needing. Her hungry pussy clung to the stroking shaft. Hair-rimmed lips pulled out 
luridly around the sex-wetted organ of youthful turgidity, exposing shimmering pink ridges of 
drawn-out inner cuntflesh toward the end of each outstroke, only to flutter submissively and 
fold into her body when he sank the glistening dong back into Harriet's sperm-starved belly.

"OOHHH, OOHHH, OOHHH!" she chanted, taking it and loving it.

After seventeen years of marital fidelity, Harriet was now an adulteress, her wifely virtue 
wiped out by the weakness of her long-suffering flesh. At the moment, however, this 
concerned her not a whit, for she was functioning on a physical not a mental plane. The 
combined effects of unleashed passion and too much alcohol had temporarily obliterated her 
conscience and rendered her brain virtually incapable of conscious thought. Her condition 
might well be compared to a bitch in heat for, presently at least, sexual gratification was the 
main and overriding purpose of her very existence. All else paled to the point of oblivion. The 
only reality was this particular moment in time, this primordial act of mind-blanking sexual 
intercourse. Nothing in all the world mattered to Harriet just then except the fiery pleasure 
being pumped into her by the rock-hard length of hotly pulsing prick.

"I LOOVVEE IT!" she bleated, flinging her arms around the steadily humping youth. 
"OOOOHH... SWEET DICK... GOOD... SOO GOOD! OH, YOU DARLING BOY... FUCK ME... LIKE 
THIS... FOREVER! NEVER STOP! OHHHH... FUCK ME, FUCK MEEEEH"

"DAMN RIGHT, HONEY!" Bob panted and, feeling her hands on his behind, clasping and 
tugging at his bobbing buns, he increased both the force and rapidity of his screwing 
motions. "YOU GOT A HOT PUSSY! NICE AND JUICY! GOOD AND TIGHT! I CAN TELL YOU'VE... 
BEEN DOING WITHOUT IT... FOR A LONG TIME! YOU'VE BEEN NEEDING THIS...
HAVEN'T YOU?"

Harriet moaned mournfully. Nodded. Licked her lips. She drew up her nylon-encased legs 
and wrapped them around his waist. Her stockinged feet bounced jerkily, toes pointing 
toward the ceiling.

The girth of his ferrous young phallus plugged her mature cunt-hole nice and tight, 
trapping the ever-increasing amount of copious cunt-honey inside her silky vagina. It began 
sloshing around in the bottom of her vaginal well. They were both panting, Harriet also 
whimpering and sighing. Over this could be heard the salacious sounds of their genitals in 
motion, together with the lewd smacking noises of his lean abdomen crashing rapid-fire down
against her soft, perspiration-dampened belly.

Squish-slap-slurp, squish-slap-slurp, squish-slap-slurp!

His stony prong pumped like a piston within the silky cylinder of her wetly suctioning 
sheath. The force of his rapid thrusts drove her rear end down into the
cushion several times per second, making the couch springs squeak raspingly. "HARDER... 
OOOHHH... FASTER... AAAHHH... GIVE IT TTOOO ME!" Harriet screeched.
Down came her legs, knees flexed and widely parted. She planted the soles of her stockinged 
feet into the couch cushion on each side of and just below his knees. Using the muscles in her 
legs and abdomen, Harriet began working with him at last. Moaning, gasping, striving for 
orgasm, she slammed her sopping snatch up to the furiously humping young man, matching 
him stroke for stroke as she yanked at his butt to help him sock it to her hard and fast as he 
could. The tendons connecting her inner thighs to her groin stood out taut as bowstrings, 
quivering, jerking.

"OH, BABY... UNN, UNN... GOD, GOD, GOD!" Harriet cried out deliriously, her rump 
pumping like ninety. "HARDER! FASTER! GO, GO, GOOO! RAM ME! STAB MY WOMB! 
AAAHHHH! SCREW ME SILLY! OH, LOVER... LOV-EERRR!!"

The scorching heat of their frenetic fucking became too hot for mortal flesh to long 
endure. When the lad's thrusts grew short and choppy, Harriet recognized the signs. She tilted
her pelvis and worked all the harder, scrubbing the raw-nerved head of her throbbing clitoris 
up and down the uneven upper surface of his jabbing, blood-filled stalk.

"HURRY!" Bob warned. "I CAN'T... HOLD OFF... MUCH LONGER!"

"THEN LET IT FLY!" she shrilled. "I'M READY! YOU'RE BRINGING... ME OFF... TTOOO! CUM, 
BABY... NOW, NOW... SQUIRT IT IINNN ME... HOT AND DEEP! NOW... NNOOWW... GAWD, 
GGAAWWDD... I'M GUMMING! OOHHH! CUUUUMMMMMIIIIINNNNGGGGG!! " He threw a 
volley of
extra-hard, ever-shortening thrusts into her, then crammed his pounding pecker
hilt-deep into her fluttering gap and tried to stuff his body-hugging balls in with it, going, 
"UUUNNNN... UNG, UNG, UNG!" as the expanding and contracting head of his planted prick 
blew spiraling jets of sticky-hot sperm into the secret recesses of her heaving belly.

"WWWWHHHHAAAAHHHHHH!!" Harriet shrieked, bowing upward as the inundation of 
steaming ejaculate splashed over the hypersensitive mouth of her orgasmically pulsating 
womb, doubling the bliss of her own climactic release.
Her asshole began winking in concert with her spastically contracting vagina. "AAAHHH, 
GGAAWWDD!!" she hissed. "SHOOT IT, SHOOT IT! MMM, MMM... OOOOOHHHHHH!! "
For a moment she hung there suspended, her back arched and her asscheeks trembling in 
midair, then she fell back limply, digging her fingernails into his tensed buttocks to hold him 
into her right up to his twitching nuts.

"CUM, CUM!" she sobbed, her head snapping ecstatically from side to side. "GIVE ME... A 
BELLY FFUULLL OF ITT! OOOHHH... UUUNNNN... AAAAAHHHHHH!! " The college
student had a big rusty load built up, and his healthy prostate gland pumped it to the lust-lost
housewife.

"HUU-AAAHHH, HUU-AA AHHH, HUU-AAAHHH!" Harriet howled chantingly, as the 
geyser- like gushes of scalding cream erupted from Bob's ballooning cockhead, ricocheting 
off her tender, innermost parts.

Her sperm-starved womb expanded and contracted with a heart-beat-like rhythm, 
alternately sucking in and spewing out some of his cum like a rubber bulb.

"AAAAA-GGGGAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!" she groaned gutturally, when her climax reached
its excruciating peak.
Harriet threw back her head, screamed, then went limber. One leg fell off the couch; her foot 
hit the floor with a thud. She began sobbing brokenly, her entire body shuddering helplessly 
from the top of her lolling head to the tips of her curled-under toes.

There was only a partial return of her mental faculties after her brain-boggling orgasm had
run its course. Even so, her wifely conscience struck her like a fist to the solar plexus.

Dear Lord, what have I done? she moaned inwardly, suddenly realizing with a sense of 
scathing shame and numbing guilt that she'd willfully committed a sordid act of sinful 
adultery, for in the back of her mind she just couldn't let herself believe her husband was dead
so long as he remained on the missing in action list.

She felt cheapened and soiled. An anguished cry of remorse for her wrongdoing escaped 
her tremulous lips, and she started crying, unable to hold back her tears, even as the youth lay
atop her with his limbering rod soaking in her cummy cunt.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"No-nothing. You wo-wouldn't understand!" she whined, patting his nude buttocks, 
caressing the hairy hillocks. "It isn't your fault."

Their mixed fuck juices belched out of her gaping hairy hole when he withdrew, and 
trickled luridly down the crack of her ass. He mopped her messy twat with her panties. Before 
he got around to wiping his dick, it'd dripped aftercum on her thigh, spotting her nylon hose. 
The stain on her hose was nothing compared to the one on the couch, though, where their 
combined secretions had run down Harriet's asscrack and soaked into the cushion.

"Oh, leave it alone!" she snapped, when Bob started swiping at the cushion with her 
sex-drenched panties. "You're just smearing it around and making it worse! Hand me my 
drink!"

He passed her drink to her. She pushed up onto her elbow and finished it off. Then she sat
up, not bothering to pull down her dress, and reached for Bob's drink. He'd hardly touched it. 
The glass was almost full. Harriet turned it up and drained it before she set the glass aside.

"You're going to get sloppy-assed drunk," he warned, as she got up and weaved toward 
the combination color TV, stereo and AM/FM radio, upon which rested the tray containing ice 
bucket, a fifth of Scotch and a bottle of soda.

"So what? Maybe I need to! " she muttered. She picked up the Scotch, uncapped it, 
returned to the couch, splashed some in Bob's empty glass and drank it neat. "Bleah!" She 
made a face.

"Good stuff, huh?" Bob quipped, sitting there with his pants and shorts still bunched 
around his ankles, hiding his feet.

"Ter'ble," she mumbled, trying to smile but not quite making it. Her lipstick was smeared. 
Cum continued to ooze from her cunt. Her white cheeks were streaked with dark, tear-melted 
mascara. The loose curls of her brunette shag resembled a mop that'd been shaken. Except for
her fashionable frock, which was very wrinkled now, Harriet looked like some middle-aged 
skid-row tramp who belonged in a flophouse instead of this comfortable, middle-class home. 
"But I'm gonna drink it all. It's med'cine. I gotta have it. You gonna help me? Or pull up your 
god'am britches and go home... now that you got wha' you came for. Wha'bout it, Bub?"
"The name's Bob."

"I know your fuckin' name!" She giggled. The booze was catching up to her fast. "Well, 
Bob, wha'bout it, Bub?" she threw back her head and cackled.

"Sure, Harriet, I'll have another drink with you," he said, but he was thinking, And I'll have a
blow-job before I'm through with you, too!

CHAPTER TWO

About a quarter past midnight Regan let himself out via the front door of a darkened 
house across the street and three doors up from his. He padded down the sidewalk in his bare
feet, sleepy, tired and disgusted, wearing his pajamas and carrying his clothes.

"Durn Billy!" he muttered angrily to himself. "Nobody could sleep in the same bed with 
him!"

Billy's folks had moved into the neighborhood only recently. Regan and the new kid had 
hit it off right from the start. He'd thought himself lucky when his mother had finally given in 
and, for the first time in his life, allowed him to spend the night with a buddy.

How wrong he'd been, at least so far as Billy was concerned. Billy was okay and Regan 
liked him for a friend, but there would be no more sleeping over between the two of them. 
Tomorrow he would go back over and explain to Billy and his parents, tell them that he'd got 
up and gone home in the middle of the night because he just couldn't sleep a wink with Billy 
tossing and turning, talking in his sleep, kicking and pulling the cover.

"Durn Billy," he grumbled again as he stumbled groggily across the lawn toward the front 
door of his own house. Suddenly Regan stopped, noticing for the first time that the lights 
were still on.

What the heck? Mom don't never stay up this late... does she?

It occurred to Regan that something might be wrong. He hurried on across the yard and, 
finding the door unlocked, entered expecting to find his mother in the lighted living room. 
No, not there. He started to call out, but heard a voice, a man's voice, and didn't.

"That's it, baby. Go on. Skin it back. Looks good, doesn't it?"

"Oouuu, yes... lovely!" the child heard his mother reply in a husky voice.

Regan didn't know what to think. The voices were drifting up the hall. Did his mother have 
a man in her bedroom? The boy's heart skipped a beat. His dad? No, it couldn't be. If his dad 
was coming home, they would've known about it ahead of time. Then who? And why? What 
were they doing back there?

"Kiss it."

"Oh, Bob, nooh."

Bob? Bob who? Kiss what?

It was only then that Regan spotted the empty whiskey bottle on the lamp table, also the 
clothes on the couch and strewn on the floor in front of it. His preteen brain still not 
comprehending the situation, Regan moved toward the couch. His
mother's high-heeled pumps lay on the floor several feet apart, on their sides. A man's shoes, 
together, socks stuck in them. His mother's dress and slip, wrinkled, on the floor in a heap. A 
man's pants and shirt, folded, neat, on one end of the coffee table, a pair of white Jockey 
shorts tossed carelessly on top. His mother's bra, nylon hose and garter belt on the other end 
of the coffee table, crumpled, dangling, as if they'd been thrown at the table one article at a 
time. His mother's panties on the couch, wadded up, sticky-looking, slimy-feeling when he 
examined them. What was that white, gluey stuff in them? How come the couch cushion had a
big wet spot? Regan's mind whirled. Two glasses. An ash tray with three cigarette butts in it.

Having led a rather sheltered life-Harriet had been overly protective of her son ever since 
his father had been sent to Vietnam more than two and a half years previously-Regan still 
didn't understand the full implication of the evidence he'd discovered. But he knew something
was wrong, and it made his stomach feel fully. A strange man was in the house, someone 
named Bob. It didn't seem right. And he knew his mother shouldn't be in the bedroom with 
anyone but his dad. Who was this Bob? What were they doing back there?

"Oh, no... please, no... I don't even do that for my husband! I'm not that kind of woman!"

"Don't hand me that. Kiss it!" "Ouch! You're hurting me!" "KISS IT!"
"All right... ooh!" Smack!

"Again." Smack!... Smack, smack! "There, are you satisfied?"
Silence. Then wet kissing sounds, drifting from the bedroom and wafting up the hall.

"MMM!" His mother's voice.

"That's it, Harriet." The man, kind of chuckling. "Use your tongue. Lick it. Taste's good to 
you, huh?"

A whimper. More kissing noises. The bed rustling.

Regan frowned. What was going on back there? He had to know. Worried and puzzled but
strangely excited, he dumped his clothes on the couch and tiptoed barefoot across the living 
room and down the carpeted hallway.

Only recently had the twelve-year-old begun to learn about the seamy side of life, and his 
present knowledge wouldn't fill a thimble. About all he knew was that his thing was called a 
peter or dick, that girls and women had a pussy or cunt-one or both, he wasn't sure-and that 
married people "did it." Fucked. The man putting his peter in the woman's pussy or cunt, 
whichever. That's what he'd heard. He didn't know if it was true. It sounded dirty, the way the 
older boys talked about it, sniggering and all. "My mom and dad wouldn't do anything like 
that!" Regan had said. The older boys had called him stupid, laughed at him. He'd gone away 
hurt, angry and humiliated, and wouldn't listen to them after that. They were the stupid ones, 
always talking about girls and stuff. Who cared anything about dumb giggly girls, anyhow? 
That'd been Regan's attitude, and he'd stuck with it, being a
typical, although extra ignorant concerning sex, twelve-year-old. Like most boys his age, 
Regan considered girls a nuisance and avoided them when he could because it was a lot more
fun to play with other boys like himself, real guys who weren't interested in sissy girls or that 
goofy sex stuff.

The plump lad was in for a rude awakening, however, and his disinterest in sex would soon
be a thing of the past.

The door to his mother's bedroom stood wide open. A bedside lamp was on. He peered 
furtively around the door frame, and began blinking in startled disbelief.

She had a guy in there with her, all right, and he was a lot younger than she was. They 
were on the bed, both of them naked. He lay on his back, his head propped up with both 
pillows. His peter was hard, the way Regan's sometimes was when he woke up needing to pee 
real bad. It looked big, had a lot of hair around and above it. His balls were big, too, hanging 
down between his parted legs.

Who the heck is that guy? And what's wrong with Mom? Why is she kneeling over him like
that? Holding his peter! Kissing and licking on the head of it!

All of a sudden Regan wasn't sure of anything. His eyes bugged. It shocked him, what his 
mother was doing, made his head swim. He didn't want to believe what he saw.

Yuk! How can she stand to lick around on his dirty dick? But he's not making her! She's 
doin' it herself! Mom's drunk! She's got to be drunk!

Harriet was indeed drunk, and much more so than either Bob or her horrified young son 
suspected. She was out, completely unaware of what she was doing. Her condition could be 
likened to that of a sleepwalker. The alcohol she'd consumed had anesthetized the thinking 
part of her brain in the same way a hypnotist's words does when he is putting a subject into a 
very deep trance. She'd blanked out, so to speak, on the couch. Tomorrow she would have no 
memory of allowing Bob to undress her and lead her back to her bedroom, or what took place
once he got her there. She appeared to be only tipsy, for she was functioning solely on her 
subconscious mind, and her words were only slightly slurred now.

"Open up, baby," Bob told her, pushing down on her head. "Come on, take a suck on that 
fuckstick."

"Oh, Curt," she cooed, "how naughty of you! I never thought you'd expect your own wife 
to do a perverted thing like that. But I will! If you want me to, I will!"

Her mind was playing tricks on her. She fancied she was with her loving husband.

Bob laughed. He drew down her head and stuck his skinned-back glans penis in her 
mouth. He knew now just how strung-out she really was. It amused him. He wasn't above 
taking advantage of Harriet's condition in order to get his cock sucked by her. There was 
nothing he liked better than a good blow-job, and having some poor bastard's sex-starved 
wife gobble his hob made it all the more sordid and enjoyable.

As for Harriet, she was in a world of her own making and perfectly willing to accept the fat 
dick being fed into her mouth. Morals and inhibitions being a part of the conscious mind, the 
alcohol-drugged housewife was temporarily stripped of all her behavioral restraints.

She wrapped her oral petals around the top of Bob's thick shaft and sucked down on the 
musk-flavored bulb of purplish turgidity. A mewl of delectation escaped her
nostrils. Her tongue curled this way and that, avidly laving the tasty taut skin of the swollen 
dickhead. Without the slightest hesitation, she started bobbing her head, performing fellatio 
as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

In her right mind Harriet would've been reluctant to do such a debasing thing even for her
own husband, whom she loved with all her heart; but she wasn't in her right mind and, finding
the taste of cock delightful, she greedily and vulgarly went on sucking off the young man.

Regan was dumbfounded, too stunned to do or say anything. He didn't want to watch, yet
he couldn't look away. His mother's head bobbed faster and faster, her disheveled hair 
fanning the air and her soft red lips pulling at the guy's white, saliva-coated peter. The 
obscene act of oral depravity which his mother was so passionately performing held the naive 
youngster spellbound.

"SUCK IT, YOU HUNGRY BITCH!" Bob cried, his hips thrusting up toward his face. "EAT MY 
DICK! TAKE ME... ALL THE WAY!"

"MMM, MMM, MMM!" Harriet chanted through her nose, going wild when he started 
swabbing her throat with his bloated crown.

A moment later Regan heard the stranger groan, watched him buck up and shove down 
his mother's head, forcing her to take every bit of his peter into her mouth.

"I'M CUMMING!" Bob husked. "UNG, UNG, UNG!"

Harriet gagged, made a gurgling noise in her throat.

Then the guy fell back, and Regan watched bug-eyed as his pulsating peter slipped from 
his mother's mouth. It was spurting sticky white stuff all over her face.
Regan heard her groan, saw her grab the dick and take the head back into her mouth. She 
sucked it like crazy, her throat working up and down and her cheeks pumping in and out.

She's swallowing that stuff! the astonished kid realized with a mixture of excitement and 
disgust. Mom's sucking it out of him and drinking it down! Jeez, my own mother! She's a 
cocksucker! A filthy cocksucker!

"KEEP SUCKIN'... GET EVERY DROP... OOOHHHH... OH, CHRIST!" Bob sighed. "THAT'S IT, 
HONEY! AAAHHH! DRAIN MY DONG! VACUUM IT OUT OF MY NUTS! UUUNNNN... AHH...
OOOHHHHH!!"

Bob began to relax, sighing, huffing for breath, as Harriet continued nursing on his 
deflating penis. Even her subconscious mind was getting sluggish. She didn't know her own 
name, had no idea where she was. The carnal craving of her sexually deprived body ruled her 
completely now. She had a split second flash of hazy consciousness, realized she was sucking 
cock but not whose, and that she loved it, loved it! Then her mind was out of it again, but 
even in her alcoholic stupor she kept sucking on the spongy appendage.

When Regan next glanced up at Bob's face, he saw a grin and eyes that were looking right 
at him. The child nearly shit. He was too terrified to move a muscle or utter a sound.

"Don't be scared," the young man told Regan. "I recognize you from the picture in the 
living room. This is your mama, right?"

"Ye-yes, sir," Regan stuttered.
"Com'ere. I'm not gonna hurt you. Want your goober gobbled?" "Huh?" Entering the room. 
Shivering. His knees shaking.
It didn't seem real. Regan was sitting on the side of the bed. He and Bob were talking. His 
mother didn't seem to know he was there.

"She's out of her gourd," Bob explained. "High on booze and sex. She's hungry for cock. 
You got a hard-on?"

Regan was surprised to discover that he did. He nodded. At Bob's instruction, he took it 
out and showed it to him.

"Not a bad hammer for a kid your age," Bob commented. "Take off your PJs, pal. I'll share 
your old lady with you. I'll have her go down on you. You got any rocks to get off?"

"Huh?" Frowning. Taking off his pajamas. "Do you jack off?"
"'Course not! " Bob laughed but didn't make fun of him. They talked a little more. Regan kind 
of liked the guy in spite of everything.

"What's the matter with Mom?" Regan asked, when Bob forced Harriet's mouth off his 
meat and made her look up at her nude, stiff-peckered son. "She don't act like she knows me."

"She's strung-out on liquor. Don't worry about it, kid. Come on, stick your peter in her 
mouth and let her suck you off. It's great. You'll like it." Harriet's eyes were glazed, 
blank-looking. She kept mumbling, licking her lips.

"Wanna eat your little boy's dick, Harriet?" She tried to say something but couldn't.
Bob got up. He had Regan lie down. Harriet offered no protest as the youth fed her son's 
four-and-a-half incher into her mouth.

"Oooooh... oooohh!" Regan sighed, shuddering with pleasure as the moist heat of his 
mother's suctioning mouth enclosed the most sensitive part of his anatomy. He knew this 
wasn't right, but did it ever feel great!

"I'm gettin' another hard-on watching this," Bob said. "I think I'll fuck her." He got on his 
knees behind the kneeling woman, between her legs, took hold of her hips and sank his prick 
into her dribbling snatch from behind.

It made the heretofore proper and faithful housewife moan through her nose and suck all 
the more fervently at the hunk of boy meat in her insatiable mouth.

"I'll be goddamned if this isn't turning into some party," Bob said. He winked at the 
confused son as he started fucking the lust-and alcohol-addled mother, rocking her back and 
forth as he hammered it to her dog-fashion.

For a moment the bed pitched and rolled, the mattress rustling and the box springs 
creaking, as Harriet sucked with mindless voracity at the incestuous dick of her little boy and 
shoved her febrile twat back at the thrusting cock of her adulterous lover. But the Scotch had 
caught up to her and the heat of the moment proved to be more than she could take. 
Suddenly she went limp, just passed out cold. She sagged
but couldn't fall because she was on her knees with Bob holding onto her hips.

"Don't sweat it, kid, she'll be all right," Bob told the worried child, and he finished screwing
her. Then he laid her down on her back and spread her legs. "Climb on, boy, and stick that 
bone in your mama's hot cunt."

It didn't seem real, none of it. In a daze, Regan let himself be lifted between the parted 
legs of his unconscious mother. He guessed Bob must've spurted again, when he'd been 
gasping and groaning, because some of that gluey white stuff was oozing out of her hairy 
crack.

The lecherous teenager put the little boy in position, skinned back his stiff dick for him and
helped him get it into his stinkoed mother.

"Ooouuuu!" Regan whimpered as his stony rod slipped into her hot, sticky-wet slot. "Feels 
good, huh?"
"Oh boy, yeah!"

"Go ahead and fuck her," Bob said, and he gave Regan a swat on his bare, boyish backside 
to set him in motion.

Awkwardly Regan began, his butt bobbing jerkily as he dipped his peter in and out of the 
slippery hot hole between his mom's legs. His eyes turned glassy. His tongue hung out. He 
went at it faster and faster.

"THE HARDER... I FUCK HER... THE BETTER... IT'S GETTIN'!" Regan panted, fairly
reeling with wonderment and bliss.

"Then give it hell!" Bob urged. "That's the way it's supposed to be."

The naive lad gave it all he had. His hairless butt flew up and down, stabbing his aching 
young pecker in and out of the cunt that'd given him birth.

"IT'S GETTIN'... TOO GOOD! I FE-FEEL FUNNY... DOWN DE-DEEP... IN MY BELLY! OHH, 
OHH!"

"You're about to pop your nuts! That's what you want! Go on! Harder! Ram it to her! Fuck 
her good!"

Regan began to melt. He lost the cadence. Something was happening inside him, 
something marvelous!

"OHH, OHH!" he moaned, sticking his twitching dick all the way into his mom's wonderful 
hole. "UUUNNNNN!! "

"You're cumming!"

"CUMMIN'!" Regan echoed. Suddenly he was nearly blind, his insides exploding but, oh, 
how good it felt!"

"CUMMIN', CUMMIN'... OOOOHHHHH... UNG, UNG, UNG... AAAHHHHHHH!! " Soon after 
that,
the teenager and the little boy shook hands at the front door, and Bob left. Regan locked up 
and turned off the lights in the front of the house, then went back to bed and fucked his 
mother again and again and again, until, exhausted, he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

CHAPTER THREE
Harriet awakened with a sense of great urgency shortly before dawn. She swung out of bed, 
the whole world whirling around her, and staggered into the john. Down on her knees, 
clinging to the rim of the porcelain crapper, she threw up until her guts ached.

Weak-kneed and naked, she bent over the washbasin for long, miserable moments, 
splashing cold water over her face. She had no recollection of getting undressed and going to
bed. The last thing she remembered was sitting on the couch with Bob, both of them drinking,
she fully dressed except for her panties and shoes, he with his pants and shorts vulgarly down 
around his ankles.

Dimly she recalled disentangling herself from arms and legs in order to get out of bed. She
supposed she must've passed out. Evidently Bob had undressed her, carried her to bed and 
crawled in with her.

Jesus, I'm sick... feel so dirty! And for what? Nothing but a cheap thrill!

Each beat of her heart was like a hammer blow at the base of her skull. Her throat felt raw. 
From the neck 'down, she was nothing but nausea and numbness. Her hair needed brushing 
but she wasn't up to it. All she could think about was getting Bob out of her bed and house 
before her son came home, and she didn't give a damn what he thought of her looks now. 
She never wanted to see him again anyway, or any other man except her good husband.

Let him be alive. Please, Lord! Let him be alive! she prayed silently, automatically, for she'd 
thought it and said it at least a million times.

Thinking of Curt made her even more miserable. She felt worse than a whore over what 
she'd done. Then she stepped back into the bedroom, intending to shake Bob awake and 
send him on his way, and she froze, hands clasping her cheeks, completely aghast by the sight
of her son not her lover, naked as a jaybird, sleeping peacefully away in her bed.

DEAR GOD! she screamed inwardly. WHAT'S REGAN DOING HOME? WHERE'S BOB? 
OHMYGOD! NO, NO, N-NOOOOH!!

The mere hint of incest horrified Harriet. She felt like vomiting again as she donned her 
quilted robe, turned off the lamp and, her heart pounding like twin tom- toms in her temples, 
slipped from the room and eased the door shut behind her.

Bob was nowhere to be found. The cigarette butts in the ash tray were the only real 
evidence that he'd ever been here. Regan's clothes were on the couch, near her discarded 
underpants which were stiff with dried sexual secretions. The rest of her clothing lay 
damningly upon the floor and across the coffee table.

"Have I gone insane?" Harriet whined thinly to the empty room. "Good grief, what 
happened last night?"

She could only guess, but what she'd seen made her fear the worst. Harriet visualized 
herself passed out, Regan coming home-but when did he come home? What day is it?-and 
then...

It was too demented to even think about. She didn't want to imagine what Bob and her 
son, or maybe her little boy by himself, might have done to her unconscious body. But her 
guilt-stricken mind wouldn't leave it alone. All sorts of sordid images slammed obscenely into 
her spinning brain.

Her stomach convulsed. She dashed for the kitchen sink, staggering, reeling, and
retched miserably with the dry heaves.

Afterward, her intestines were sore. There was no way she could atone for what she 
feared-almost knew-had happened. Adultery was bad enough, but incest!

Strike me dead, God! I don't deserve to live! I want to die!

Harriet got the butcher knife out of the drawer. She threw back her head, teeth gritted, 
eyes clenched, and brought the sharp-cutting edge of the wicked-looking blade to her tautly 
stretched throat.

For a moment she stood that way, her heart palpitating. Then she put down the knife, 
feeling all the more wretched, hating herself because she lacked the guts to end the misery, 
and now the shame, that her once bright and happy life had deteriorated into.

She opened another bottle of her husband's Scotch-until a few days ago she hadn't 
touched a drop of liquor since his departure-and drank until she passed out again.

The telephone woke Regan about nine that Sunday morning. He answered it on the 
extension in his mother's room. It was Billy, wanting to know why the heck he'd gone home 
like that.

Regan told him. It made Billy mad. He swore he didn't kick or pull cover or any of those 
things. The boys fussed, Regan swearing he did and Billy denying it. Finally Billy agreed, all 
right, maybe he did, and he asked Regan to come over and play.

"Can't now," Regan told his friend. "Maybe later. I'll call you if I can. 'Bye."

Regan worriedly put on his pajamas. He hadn't meant to fall asleep in his mother's bed. 
Where was she? Did she know what he'd done? Dreading to face her, he opened the bedroom
door and went forth to do so.

He found her sprawled on the couch, one leg hanging down, bare foot resting askew on 
the floor. The room smelled like whiskey. On the floor in front of the couch lay an uncapped 
bottle, in about the center of a large wet area of Scotch-drenched carpet.

"Mom?"

No answer. "Mom!"
She didn't move a muscle. "Wake up, Mom!"
Regan tried to shake her awake, couldn't, and felt a temporary relief. She was drunk again, or 
still. It disgusted him to look at her. Yet her helplessness excited him. Hate and love fought 
within the boy. Love won out. She was his mother; he couldn't hate her, even if she was a dirty
cocksucker. Maybe she wouldn't remember what he'd done to her last night. But if she did, 
why should he care? It was her fault, wasn't it? He hadn't told her to cheat on his dad; all he'd 
done was come home unexpectedly and catch her at it!

It gave him a hard-on to look at her lips, recalling how good it'd felt when she'd been 
sucking his peter. He took it out, skinned it back, leaned over her and stuck the head in her 
mouth. It was no use. He couldn't get her to suck on it.
Half-hating, half-loving her, Regan unbuttoned his mother's robe. He examined her 
defenseless body, played with her titties and pussy to his heart's content, then climbed on top 
of her and fucked her unconscious, unmoving form again.

Harriet slept all day. The lights were on when she finally blinked open her eyes and saw 
Regan sitting across from her in the easy chair, watching her. "What day is it?" she groaned.

"Sunday night," Regan answered. "When did you ge-get home?"
"Last night. I couldn't get to sleep at Billy's, so I-" "Was anyone, ah," she interrupted, 
"he-here?"
"Guy named Bob," Regan replied. "Ohmygod! " Harriet gasped.
"You was suckin' on his dick!" Regan hissed. "WHAT?"
"You was suckin' on his dick, and Bob had me-"

"NOOO! OH, GOD FORBID! SHUT UP, SON! I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT! BRING ME THE ICE
BAG! MY HEAD IS SPLITTING!"

CHAPTER FOUR

Harriet wouldn't let Regan mention that night. She didn't want to think about it, tried to 
ignore her son's accusing glances, could hardly bear the knowledge that her innocent 
offspring had witnessed her in an obscene act of oral depravity. She didn't remember doing 
anything like that. But she didn't remember getting undressed and going to bed, either, or 
Bob leaving; and Regan had been in bed with her, both of them naked, when she woke up sick
at her stomach.

Why can't I remember? she wailed mentally, again and again. Dear God, what all DID 
happen?

Bits and pieces filtered up from the void in her memory, making Harriet more and more 
ashamed of herself until, at last, she had to know the whole horrible truth of the drunken 
nightmare. Fortified with several drinks, she met her son at the door when he got home from 
school the following Thursday afternoon. She made him sit in the easy chair and settled 
herself nervously on the couch facing him. Eyes downcast, holding her drink with both 
trembling hands, she instructed him to tell her everything about the previous Saturday night, 
beginning with the moment he got home.

"Are you sure, Mom?"

"It's driving me crazy. I've got to know."

Regan would just as soon have left it be. Anger was behind him now. His mother had been
miserable ever since. He felt sorry for her, wished he'd stayed at Billy's and hadn't caught her 
with Bob. But he had caught her, and he wouldn't lie about it. He told her what she wanted to 
know.
Harriet didn't want to believe the damning account of her young son's lustful discovery, but it 
tied together the fragments which she'd already painfully recalled, so she knew he must be 
telling her the entire truth of the sordid matter.

Her cheeks burned with scathing shame as Regan described how he'd come upon her 
kissing and licking Bob's penis, then sucking it until his cum spurted over her face and into her
mouth. Scalding tears of bitter guilt cascaded silently down her crimson cheeks when Regan 
told her, his young voice beginning to crackle with excitement, how she'd sucked his peter, 
too, while Bob screwed her dog-fashion from behind.

Then she'd passed out completely, Regan said, and for a moment Harriet thought the 
incredible wickedness had ended there. But no. After a pause, Regan went on, telling how Bob
had taught him to fuck her, too.

Harriet had been tipsy when her son got home. The shock of what he told her fixed that, 
however. When he finished speaking, she was stone sober for the first time in nearly a week.

My own son! Incest! Oh, Lord have mercy! she thought, too stunned to find her voice.

After a long, strained silence, Harriet set her unfinished drink aside, buried her face in her 
hands and burst out crying. There was no way she could hold back the bitter tears of anguish 
and humiliation. Uncontrollable sobs wracked her bowed torso.

"Don't cry, Mom. Hey, come on, don't," Regan pleaded, his own eyes misting with tears.

He didn't know why she was crying, couldn't understand why he felt like it, too. Impulsively
he got up, hurried over to the couch, sat down beside his mother and put his arms around 
her.

Numb with grief, the guilt-stricken woman turned into the solacing embrace of her 
beloved young son. She clung to the child, crying fitfully with her head on his comforting 
shoulder.

"You're all I've got!" she sobbed. "Don't hate me! Please don't hate me!" "I love you! I 
couldn't never hate you, no matter what! "
"Oh, precious, Mother loves you, too! More than anything else in the world," she exclaimed, 
hugging him fiercely, raining kisses of relief and gratitude up his cheek and across his 
forehead. "I never meant to do anything like that! I'm ashamed, and so sorry for everything! I'll
make it up to you, Regan! I swear I will! Some way! Somehow!"

"Heck, Mom, you don't have to make nothin' up to me," Regan said, stroking her head and
patting her back the way she did to him when he needed consoling. "I liked it. When Bob left, I
got back in bed and did it to you some more. And the next morning, when you was on the 
couch, I fucked you another time. I'd do it again right now if you'd let me."

"Honey, hush!" Harriet gasped, her brain spinning luridly. "You mustn't talk to Mother that 
way!"

"How come?"
"It isn't right," she explained, forcing herself to sound calm, normal. "We've got to pretend 
that vulgar night never happened, and go on leading a decent life.
That's what Daddy would want us to do. We'll just forget it all, okay?"

"Well... yeah, I guess so," the twelve-year-old replied reluctantly. "If you say so, Mom."

"I say so and, believe me, it's for the best... Incidentally, sweetheart," she added, as if it 
were a casual afterthought, "you haven't told anybody about, uh, Bob or any of that, have 
you?"

"I got more sense than that," he said with a grin. Harriet breathed a sigh of relief. "Of 
course you have, dear. You're Mother's little man. I don't know what I'd do without you to 
look after me." She kissed him on the nose and sent him out to play. The discussion was over. 
Life had to go on. Although she herself would bear the burden of her deplorable sin forever, 
she hoped her innocent little boy would, in time, forget that dreadful night of insane 
wickedness.

During the following days it became clear to Harriet that things were in a state of flux. 
Gone was the former relationship of wholesome and pristine innocence she and her son had 
enjoyed. Moods and attitudes were changing fast, both his and hers.
Regan was still a towheaded little boy, but he'd sampled the pleasures of the flesh and there 
was a definite difference in the way he looked at her, talked to her.

An invisible barrier had been erected between them and, for this, Harriet cursed herself. 
She was losing her little boy. There was nothing she could do about it. No longer did he look 
upon her as if she was all-wise, endowed with saint-like goodness.

She was still his mother and he seemed to respect her, though he didn't look up to her as 
before. But now he saw her as a woman, too, a sex object. She could see it in his eyes and it 
made her want to scream because, God help her, knowing what Regan had on his mind 
affected her in a way that made Harriet wonder if she was losing her mind.

She could picture him screwing her while she was unconscious, and trying not to think 
about it made her think about it all the more. It excited her against her motherly will. She 
couldn't blame Regan. The whole thing was her fault. He would probably do it again if he got 
the chance, and Harriet was tempted to give him that chance. She'd been drinking every day 
lately, keeping herself in an alcoholic fog dense enough to deaden her conscience so she 
could go on living with the world seemingly crashing down around her.

Maybe I'll drink in front of Regan, instead of sneaking nips when he's home, she thought, 
toying with an idea that kept crowding its way into her booze-dulled brain. I could pretend to 
pass out and then see what he does... Oh, no, noo! I mustn't think such lurid thoughts!

It made Harriet frantic when she would catch her devious mind plotting the incestuous 
seduction of her appealing young son. The mother in her cried out stridently against the mere
thought of such an evil undertaking. Yet it was a recurring thought. The seed had been 
planted and, like a weed, it cropped up again and again. Her conscience kept chopping it 
down, but it refused to die and grew again, becoming stronger each time.

God, help me! she prayed. Don't let me lust after my own son!

But lust she did, until at last the desire to have carnal knowledge of the fruit of
her womb became an obsession.

On a Sunday afternoon, six weeks that seemed like six years after she'd succumbed to 
adultery, Harriet had a few drinks in front of Regan while the two of them were watching a 
baseball game on TV. He lay on the floor, as was his habit, chin in hands, totally engrossed in 
the game. Harriet took advantage of the situation by pretending to be drowsy, tipsy, careless 
with her posture and clothing.

Deliberately she slouched down on the couch with her legs apart and her skirt riding 
halfway up her creamy white thighs. "Are you enjoying the game, dear?"

"Yeah," he replied, without looking her way.

"That's nice. I can't seem to get interested in it myself. I don't know what's the matter with 
me today. I feel lazy, sort of odd. Do I look like I might be coming down with something?"

Dutifully Regan forced his attention away from the televised sports event and glanced 
toward his mother. He did a double take. The way she was sitting, he could see right up 
between her legs. She didn't have any panties on. There it was, that hairy crack he'd been 
dreaming of. His eyes bugged out. He stared at her pussy and it stared right back. Up came 
his peter.

"Well?" Harriet asked, acting as if she didn't know she was exposing her privates. "Huh?" 
He looked up quickly, embarrassedly.
"Do I look like I might be coming down with something?"

Regan studied his mother's expression. It looked like she might be getting drunk. His 
hopes soared. This was what he'd been waiting for but not really expecting. "You look okay to 
me."

"Come feel my forehead."

The boy frowned. He couldn't get up. She'd see he had a hard-on and would know what 
he was thinking. But his mother insisted, so he rose hesitantly and, leaning slightly in a futile 
effort to conceal the bulge in his trousers, he shuffled over to the couch.

Harriet saw his tented pants. It made her deprived twat tingle with anticipation. Averting 
her eyes so as not to embarrass him, she took Regan by the hips, drew him in between her 
legs, had him lean over and press his palm to her forehead.

"Do I have a fever?"

"I don't th-think so. Want another drink? I'll fix it for you."

"Why, son, how sweet," she said, realizing with a flush of guilty excitement that he was not 
only taking the bait but was trying to help her along. "Yes, I believe I would like another drink. 
Half soda and half Scotch please."

She handed him the empty glass and waited anxiously while he went to the kitchen to refill
it for her. I ought to be ashamed of myself, she thought. No mother should feel this way 
about her own son! I can't help it, though, and God knows I've tried! Damn the drink, Regan's 
ready and so am I!

"Ohh!" she exclaimed. "I feel so dizzy! Forget the drink, Regan! Come quick! I've had too 
much to drink already! I'm drunk, son! I think I'm going to... pass out! "
Regan rushed into the room. "Maybe you are sick," he said worriedly.

"No, I don't think so. I've had too much to drink, is all. Help me lie back!" He laid her back.
"Take my shoes off and... put my legs up! " He pulled off her shoes, lifted her legs onto the 
couch and placed a pillow under her bare feet.

"Air!" Harriet gasped. "I'll faint if I don't get air! Open my blouse, honey, quick... and loosen
my skirt!"

She'd neglected to wear a brassiere as well as underpants, and she noted with a 
seductress' satisfaction the stunning impact her bare breasts had on her young son when he 
pulled open her blouse soon as he'd got it unbuttoned. His hands were actually trembling as 
he fumbled to open the waistband of her skirt.

"Ohh!" she cried, and went limp, letting her head snap to the side with her face hidden 
against the back of the couch.

"Mom?"

Harriet's heart pounded in her chest but she said nothing. "Did you pass out, Mom?"
She didn't move a muscle.

Regan shook her, slapped her wrist. He dropped her hand and she let it fall exactly as it 
would've had she actually been unconscious.

"Oh boy, she did!" he breathed, and then he giggled nervously.

His hands covered her breasts. It required superhuman effort to lie still while her son 
timidly fondled her tender tits, especially when he took the sensitive cones of her tumescent 
coral nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and started rolling them about.

Yes, yes, Regan! she moaned inwardly. Play with Mother's titties! It's torture but I love it! 
Lower your head! Suck my nipples the way you did when you were a little baby!

Apparently it didn't occur to the inexperienced child to suck his mother's small, firm/soft 
titties. He began handling them more boldly, though, and in no time the nipples turned hard 
as berries, the areolas immediately behind them crinkling with desire.

Suddenly he deserted her tingling breasts. The couch jiggled as he scooted lower. He took 
hold of her skirt and slowly drew it higher, baring her thighs, her loins, her lower abdomen. 
Harriet's heart fluttered when she felt his tremulous hand covering her mons veneris. He 
pressed lightly at the spongy mound, combed his pudgy little fingers gingerly through the 
crisp, curly hairs of her dense triangular bush.

He put his hands between her knees, pried her legs apart with Harriet secretly helping him,
making it easy for him. She thought she would scream when she felt his hot little hand glide 
up her thigh and come to rest on her vulnerable crotch.
Droplets of liquid arousal glittered diamond-like in the hairs bordering her fluted opening.
I ought to be horsewhipped! This is crazy, depraved! I'm leading my precious little boy into 
perversion! she berated herself, even as he cupped her cunt, the indecent contact making her 
shiver with lewd delight.

An inquisitive fingertip insinuated itself into her well-lubricated orifice, and Harriet 
suppressed a pleasured sigh as it slipped with relative ease into her slippery sheath. It probed 
around inside, cautiously exploring the silky-softness of her warm, wet woman-hole.

Harriet gritted her teeth, wondering how in God's name she could sink so low as to trick 
her naive young son this way. She was making it appear that he was taking advantage of her, 
when, in truth, it was she who was taking advantage of his immaturity and lack of experience. 
Luring him into incest was bad enough, but deceiving him into thinking it was all his own 
doing only compounded her sin. She couldn't continue with the sham. The blame was mostly 
hers, for if she'd behaved herself in the first place, none of this would've happened. It was too 
late to worry about that now, though. What was done was done; there was no way to undo it. 
She wanted him, her own son, crazy as it was, but not this way. The least she could do was be 
honest about it, and besides, she wouldn't be able to lie still much longer anyway, with him 
feeling her up, fingering around inside her that way.

But then, she didn't have to be completely honest, did she, for that would make Regan 
look like a fool. She'd faked passing out, and the best way out of it would be to fake a return 
of consciousness.

"Mmm-uumm," she murmured, blinking, turning her head, as if awakening to something 
quite pleasant.

Regan jerked his hand away. "MOM?" he gasped.

"Hmm?" Harriet asked dreamily. She opened her eyes and smiled up at the frightened 
visage of her young son. He looked like he'd been caught robbing the cookie jar.

"You're awake!" he gulped.

"I have been for a minute or so," she cooed, feeling incredibly sensual and seductive. 
"Don't stop, son. I like it. Play with Mother's pussy some more, why don't you?"

"You mean it?" Regan's expression was a mixture of hope and shocked disbelief.

"Um-hmm," she purred as she took his small hand and placed it on her dew-moistened 
portal. She began caressing herself with his hand, making his fingertips flick the nerve-laden 
head of her elongated clitoris. She guided two of his little boy's fingers into her coral gap and 
started his hand to moving in a suggestive manner.

"Oh boy!" Regan said. He was trembling with emotion, thinking, She doesn't know what 
she's doing. She's the same way now that she was when I got home from Billy's and found her
in bed with Bob. I can fuck her and everything, and she won't even remember it when she 
sobers up!

The lad's erroneous appraisal of his mother's degree of inebriation gave him courage and 
daring he wouldn't have otherwise been able to muster. She spread her legs nice and wide for
him and lay back with her eyes closed again, smiling, sighing, as he gaily dipped his index and 
middle fingers in and out of that fascinating hairy crack between her thighs.

"Do you like Mother's pussy?"
"Durn right!"

Harriet felt giddy as she rode the tide of delicious depravity welling up within her. "Do you 
want to put your peter in it and fuck me, son? You said you'd do it again if I'd let you, 
remember?"

"You bet I remember!"

"Then do it," Harriet breathed, shivering with the fermentations of unholy lust which her 
child's pudgy fingers were effecting. "I'm ready to let you now. I've been wanting to do this for
weeks, haven't you? Jesus, it's so wrong, son! But I can't help it, and I know you can't, either! 
Take off your clothes! " While Regan stood up and stripped off his clothes, Harriet sat up and 
removed her unbuttoned blouse and loosened skirt. She noticed with pleasured surprise that 
his handsome erection was only an inch or so smaller than his father's, and almost as big 
around. It was a beautiful penis, perfectly formed. By all that was decent, she shouldn't even 
be looking at it, only she didn't care about that now. Circumstances had conspired against her,
making her life situation intolerable. For all she knew, Curt would never be coming home. 
She'd been faithful to him for as long as she could. She was only human, a mere woman, with 
needs of her own that could no longer be denied.

"You've got a nice one." She reached out and took his upward-angled organ in her hand. 
"Oh, my yes! It's lovely! So hard and hot!"

Harriet had never felt so boldly licentious in all her forty years as she wantonly fondled the 
forbidden prick of her preteen son, whom she loved with all her sinfully palpitating heart. 
When she'd done the same thing to Bob, it'd made her feel cheap and wicked. She felt even 
more wicked now, but delightfully so, for the sensation of cheapness she'd expected failed to 
materialize.

They were mother and son, preparing to have incestuous intercourse and it was glorious, 
almost a spiritual experience.

"I want you, precious! God help me, but I do! Mother can hardly wait to feel her little boy's
fat dick sliding into her hot, wet cunt! Get on top of me! Put it in!"

She lay down on the couch, spread her legs for him and held out her loving arms in silent 
invitation.

Unable to believe his good fortune, the horny kid climbed aboard, mounting his 
passionate mother the way he'd already done at least a half-dozen times while she was 
unconscious.

Eagerly Harriet reached down between their bodies and took his sturdy stem in her 
shaking hand. She peeled back the foreskin and guided the rosy glans toward her slippery 
slot. Clumsy with the urgency of her arousal, she wedged the bare crown of her son's 
pulsating pecker between the coral gates of her hair-fringed orifice.

"Oouuu... push, honey! Stick it in me!"

Regan pressed down. His turgid knob parted his mother's blood-engorged pussy petals 
and disappeared into the moist heat of her cuntal vestibule. She felt tighter to him this time, 
and was just as slick as she'd been when Bob's stuff was oozing out of her.

"Aaaah!" Harriet sighed. Quickly she moved her hand out of the way, clutched his plump 
buttocks and drew him in to the hilt. "OOOHHHH!"
His rock-hard rod began twitching out of control even as it glided up into her snug, silky 
sheath. "MOM!" he gasped, his boyish face twisting with instantaneous bliss. "OOOHHHH... 
UUUNNN!"

"YOU'RE CUMMING!" Harriet squealed. "ALREADY! I CAN FEEL YOUR DICK THROBBING 
INSIDE ME! OH, GOD! HOW SWEET! YES, DARLING, YESSS! CUM! CUM IN ME!"

"UNG, UNG, UNG!" Regan grunted helplessly as his pounding prick expelled a weak jet of 
creamy ejaculate then dribbled a few more drops of milky-white fluid into his mother's belly.

The psychological impact of their forbidden union, together with the lurid thrill of having 
her own son penetrate her and climax so quickly, triggered Harriet's release mechanism. She 
threw back her head, her fingers kneading his fat-layered buns, and she groaned, "ME, TOO! 
OOOOHH... I'M CUMMING... WITH YOU! OHH... AHH...
CUMMING... OH, LORD... CCCUUUMMMIIINNNGGG!! " Because the physical tension hadn't 
had time to build, this wasn't the most intense orgasm Harriet had ever experienced. But she 
wouldn't have traded it for anything. The mental thrill of their cumming together more than 
made up for any lack of wild muscular spasming. Her velvety vagina fluttered delicately 
around the length and girth of her child's orgasmically throbbing penis. She held him into her 
right up to his quivering young testicles, both of them sighing and moaning with the illicit 
rapture of their simultaneous climaxing.

Afterward he lay atop her, panting for breath, as his soaking organ shriveled slowly inside 
her wonderful hole.

"Mother's little man," she cooed, shamelessly caressing his boyish bottom while they 
savored the ebbing afterglow. "Was it good, sweetheart? It was for me. You made me cum 
faster than I ever have before. Oh, I love you... love you! I should be ashamed, but I'm not. I'm 
not a bit sorry we did it, are you?"

"Heck, no," he said. "I'm glad." Then it dawned on him-her words weren't slurred at all and 
she seemed to know exactly what she was doing. "Mom?"

"Yes, dear?"

"You're not drunk now, are you?"

"No. Well, I am too, a little bit... but I only pretended to pass out. I wanted to see what 
you'd do. You're not mad at me, are you, for deceiving you that way?"

He giggled, lifted his head, shaking it, grinning. "Oh, precious," she crooned, and tousled 
his com-silk hair. "It was awful of me, I know, but ever since you told me what you did to me 
I've been wanting you to do it again." She kissed his forehead. "Now let me up. Mother's gotta
go pee." He backed his limber tool out of her, climbed off the couch, took her extended hand 
and helped her to sit up. "Can I go with you?"

"Oh, honey, no!" she demurred. "That's too personal. Even Daddy didn't go to the 
bathroom with me."

"Please? I want to, Mom!"

She shook her head in bewildered amusement, blushed in spite of what they'd just done. 
Then she rose, laughing softly, and said, "All right, if you really want to, come on. I guess it 
won't hurt, will it?"
CHAPTER FIVE

Grinning from ear to ear, the nude twelve-year-old padded along behind his naked, 
slightly weaving mother, watching the creamy-white globes of her soft, well-rounded rump 
bounce and quiver voluptuously as she walked. This was great. Things couldn't have turned 
out more to his liking. She was only tipsy, not drunk. She'd known everything he was doing to 
her there on the couch, and she'd wanted him to fuck her again. It was just too good to be 
true! He had to pinch himself to be sure he wasn't just dreaming it all.

"I feel so silly," she said with a girlish giggle as she sat down gingerly on the commode 
and, lowering her gaze demurely, began embarrassedly pissing in front of her little boy.

Urine splashed gaily into the water below. It was a relief to empty her bladder and, once 
the flow had started, Harriet couldn't help smiling. She'd been reluctant to allow Regan to 
accompany her, but she had to admit it was rather pleasant to do her business in front of him.
The added intimacy of his nearness made her feel all the more warm and loving toward him.

Similar emotions were being experienced by the boy, but sex was brand new to him and 
the sight of his attractive mother sitting nude on the throne, taking a pee, excited him all over 
again. His penis, shiny-wet with her vaginal secretions, began filling with blood, rising to 
attention in a series of rapid, jerky motions.

"Oh my, you're getting another erection," Harriet said when she noticed his changing 
condition. "What a strong, healthy boy you are."

Regan said nothing. He sidled closer, watching interestedly as his mother tore off a 
handful of toilet tissue.

"Are you getting an eyeful, sugar?" she asked with a chuckle, and went on blotting and 
wiping her snatch, holding her legs apart and leaning back a bit so he could observe every 
detail of what she was doing.

By the time she dropped the wad of tissue into the hopper, he was standing so close that 
his protruding pecker was only scant inches from her face. She glanced up at him unsurely. He
was gazing down at her, half-smiling, half-frowning. Harriet licked her lips enticingly. He sort 
of whimpered. Without either of them putting it into words, she knew what he wanted her to 
do. To Harriet's surprise, she found herself more than willing to do for her son what she'd 
declined to do for her husband when, as newlyweds, Curt had sheepishly hinted without 
actually saying so, not really expecting a nice girl like her to do it, that he would enjoy having 
her go down on him. The very idea of taking Curt's penis in her mouth, or even kissing it, had 
been repugnant to her then. Perhaps it still would; she didn't honestly know. But with Regan it 
was an entirely different matter. He was her own flesh and blood. When he was a baby, she'd 
often cuddled him and, overcome with motherly love, had sometimes kissed his cute little tally
whacker immediately after she'd given him a bath. He had a dick not a tally whacker on him 
now, a thick hunk of meat that she estimated would measure between four and five inches 
but, even in its sex-whetted condition, it'd never looked more kissable than it did at this 
moment.

Her hand trembled imperceptibly as she brought it up and wrapped her fingers around 
the slick, slightly curved column of upstanding boyish turgidity. "Did I really suck Bob off?" she
asked in a tremulous tone. "You didn't fib to me about that, did you, son?"

"You did it," he said hopefully. "Till you made him cum. And then you sucked on mine, too,
until you passed out."
"You liked it, did you?" "Durn right! "
"Well, I honestly don't remember doing anything like that... so maybe I ought to try it again, 
huh? Right now?"

"Yeah! Do it, Mom!"

"Oouuu, you're so eager!" she sort of whined, her own excitement catching and passing 
his. "Okay, I will! Move back so I can lower my head to him!"

He inched back until die clasped his hips and told him that was far enough. Regan didn't 
trust himself to say anything. Whatever kind of spell his mother was under, he sure didn't want
to break it. He stood with his arms hanging awkwardly at his sides, his eyes wide with 
expectation as he watched her moisten her full red lips and begin lowering her head.

Harriet's heart skipped a beat as she gently drew back the satiny foreskin hood and laid 
bare the rosy-red glans of her little boy's appealing stiff pecker. The forbidden nature of the 
unnatural act she was about to commit made her feel dizzy and lightheaded. Her mouth 
watered with anticipation.

This is wrong! her conscience railed. Don't do it! For God's sake, he's your own son! Think 
of what you're doing! Have you lost your mind? Stop this insanity at once!

But she didn't want to stop, couldn't seem to think straight. Although Harriet appeared 
quite calm and self-possessed, she was in fact under the influence of alcohol, her inhibitions at
an all-time low because of what'd already transpired with both Bob and Regan, and within her
there was a virtual storm of conflicting emotions. Her head spun luridly as she pursed her lips 
and brought them into contact with the convex tip of Regan's denuded dickhead.

Smack!

She kissed it anxiously the first time, then emitted a whimpering moan and started raining 
passionate kisses of almost worshipful adoration upon the taut-skinned bulb of 
sex-moistened boyish turgidity.

Smack, smack, smack!

Once she'd started, she couldn't stop. So far as her conscious mind was concerned, this 
was the first time she'd ever done anything so downright vulgar. Illicit thrills rippled up and 
down her arched spine, crackling like static electricity as they struck her brain, completely 
annihilating the remaining shreds of her already tattered sense of decency.

"MY BABY BOY!" she wailed thinly, surrendering unconditionally to the overwhelming 
surge of perverted passion bubbling like an unholy brew in a witches' cauldron within her 
loving, mother's breast.

She extended her tongue and swiped it across the slitted forefront of his nude knob, 
scooping off a sparkling droplet of clear viscosity hanging there.

"MMMM!" she murmured, thoroughly enjoying the delicate flavor of Regan's youthful 
substance as it penetrated the pores of her tongue and made her taste buds tingle with 
surprised delight.
Slavishly she laved the blood-filled bulb, her pink taste organ curling over, under and around 
it. She cupped his scrotum, completely devoid of hair, and tenderly fondled the oblong 
sweetmeats inside the crinkled skin bag. With the thumb and first two fingers of her other 
hand, she milked the sturdy stem, avidly lapping up the few precious drops of colorless 
boy-cream she was able to coax oozingly out the tiny-tipped mouth of Regan's purplish 
dome.

"IT'S DELICIOUS! YOUR PETER JUICE! MORE! MAKE HIM CRY LOTS MORE OF IT FOR 
MOTHER!"

Harriet made a tight circle with her thumb and forefinger, and she pumped the shaft 
rapidly. Then, with her tongue extended, she simultaneously rubbed Regan's small nuts and 
raised her hand slowly, stripping his dong. The built-up seminal fluids were forced from his 
urethra. It bubbled from the pouting eye of the kid's rosy glans and dripped onto the eagerly 
awaiting tongue of his sex-hungry mother.

"OOOM!" she moaned with delectation.

Her taste buds tingled appreciatively as she drew her tongue back into her sperm- starved 
mouth and, smacking her lips, clucked it against her discerning palate like a wine taster 
sampling a rare vintage.

"MY SON! MY SWEET, INNOCENT LITTLE BOY!" she trilled, her hazel eyes turning glassy 
with desire as she glanced up at his flushed visage. "TELL ME! TELL MOTHER WHAT YOU 
WANT HER TO DO!"

"Take it in your mouth... my pe-peter! And suck on it!" he squeaked unsurely.

"YES, DARLING, YESSS! GLADLY! I NEVER WOULD DO THIS... NOT EVEN FOR DADDY! BUT 
IT'S DIFFERENT WITH YOU, SON! YOU'RE MY OWN FLESH AND BLOOD, AND YOUR PRETTY 
DICK IS SO UNGODLY SWEET! I WANT TO SUCK IT FOR YOU! GOD HELP ME, I'M YOUR 
MOTHER, BUT I'LL
DIE IF I CANT BE YOUR COCKSUCKER, TOO! " With that, Harriet opened her mouth, her oral 
petals pursing then parting to form a soft red O. Her head inched forward. She tightened her 
grip on his rampant rod, tugged it down almost level with the floor and fitted the slitted tip 
into the receptive circle of her fluttering lips. A warning buzz went off in the back of her brain 
as the saliva-coated plum disappeared thrillingly through the elastic ring of her feminine 
orifice.

"MMMM!" she sighed through her nose, when the head of her son's pecker entered her 
submissively receiving oral cavity.

Her tremulous lips fitted themselves snugly around the top of the pulsing shaft. Ignoring 
the outraged screams of her weakened conscience, Harriet sucked down slowly but surely on 
the warm knob of her child's salty-tasting glans penis.

"OOOH!" Regan sighed involuntarily, a blissful tremor passing through his plump body.

Harriet's mind reeled with the lewdness of her shameless act of willful oral depravity. An 
illicit thrill rippled electrically from the top of her head clear down to the tips of her dainty, 
red-nailed toes. She sucked harder. Her cheeks quivered and sank inward. There was a 
wonderful ache in the vicinity of her wildly palpitating heart as she teased her tonguetip under
the hard/soft bulb and began rapidly flicked the tautly stretched, nerve-rich frenum of Regan's
skinned-back pecker.

The lad's hands clenched into fists. He whimpered. His blue eyes narrowed down to mere 
slits. As the pleasure from his mother's hot, wet mouth surged up his stem and blasted 
through his belly, he caught his lower lip between his teeth and bit down
until the balance of pain and pleasure enabled him to hold back the animal-like yell that 
wanted to burst from his throat.

It gave Harriet a ferally wicked charge to have the head of her little boy's forbidden prick 
in her mouth. She started licking it like an ice cream cone. The musky flavor of his denuded 
crown turned her on. She loved the cocky taste of it. The consistency of Regan's boyish bulb 
was similar to hard rubber, but the purplish, tautly drawn skin felt smooth as silk and soft as 
velvet to the roughened upper surface of her exploring tongue.

Sweet dick! Christ, it's good! This is wrong... so wrong... but I don't care! Dear Lord, I must 
be going stark raving mad! Nothing has ever excited me this much!
Harriet moaned inwardly as she clung to Regan's stalk, sucking the head, lapping at it avidly.

Her tongue wouldn't be still. It wagged from side to side, working in a U-shape around the
underside of Regan's tool as instinctively she began moving her head to and fro. The soft 
surfaces of her womanly lips hugged the curved shaft like a tight drawstring, pressing in 
against the fronts of her teeth as she jutted her head forward, then pulling out vulgarly 
around him as she drew back.

"MOM! YOU'RE SUCKIN' IT... BETTER... THAN YOU DI-DID THE OTHER TIME!"

Regan's pleasured outcry whipped her obscene excitement to a feverish pitch. Her head 
bobbed faster. She stroked his plump behind with one hand and fondled his hairless young 
testicles with the other. His skin bag began crinkling and shrinking, drawing the two priceless 
jewels inside it up toward his perspiration- moistened groin.

Despite her sense of sinful wrongdoing, Harriet had never experienced a more exquisite 
mood of licentious sensuality than the one now closing around her like a warm, permissive 
fog. They were mother and child. She was going down on her own beloved son. Nothing in all
the world could be more taboo than this perverted act of incestuous oralism, and that was 
precisely what made it so incredibly exciting for the long-suffering, sexually deprived 
housewife.

Sweet, sweet dick! Just what I need! Judas priest, I could eat him alive! Harriet thought 
luridly.

It seemed to be growing larger and fatter as she mouthed it wantonly. The musky flavored head 
throbbed and swelled. Emitting a nasal sigh, she drew back on it and, with her 
cheeks hollowed in harsh suction, she twirled her insatiable taste organ round and around the 
taut-skinned bulb, scrubbing it, laving it, thrilling anew as her tonguetip played maddeningly 
along the tufted coronal ridge behind which the elastic foreskin was now securely locked.

"OOOOH... SUCK IT, BABY... SUCK IT GOOD!" the twelve-year-old squealed, echoing, as 
best he could remember, what Bob had told his mother while he was humping into her from 
behind and she was sucking on Regan's peter the first time. "YOU LIKE THAT COCK, don't 
YOU? EAT IT! ALL THE WAY! MAKE IT SPURT AND DRINK... AAAHHHH... THE CUM!"

Having her little boy speak to her in such a vulgar manner affected Harriet in a way that by
no stretch of the imagination could've been considered a motherly response. Her perverted 
passion soared. She became dizzy with the sordidness of her unnatural desire. All of a sudden 
she felt dirtier than ever, but deliciously so.
Right and wrong didn't matter a whit at this point. The cock in her mouth, by virtue of the fact
that it belonged to her son, was the single-most forbidden penis in all the world to her, but 
that only made it all the sweeter. No force on earth
could've pried her greedy mouth off it.

She flung her arms around Regan and, clinging to his plump thighs, she thrust her head 
forward.

Splat!

Her forehead smacked against the silky skin of his fat, warm tummy. The bluntly rounded 
tip of his dickhead bumped the back of her throat. It compressed the soft membrane, 
embedding itself partway into her yielding tissues, and lurched skiddingly down into the 
upper region of her gullet.

"OOOMMM!" she moaned through passion-enlarged nostrils.

For a second Harriet thought she was going to gag. Tears misted her eyes. She blinked 
rapidly. But her carnal craving overruled the automatic reflex toward gagging and, instead of 
pulling back, she shut her eyes and shivered with obscene delight at the stretching sensations 
which the lodged crown imparted to the muscles in her swan-like throat.

Ruttishly she hugged his legs hard as she could and rammed her head forward. Her face 
disappeared in the spongy layer of fat covering Regan's rotund, boyish abdomen. It was 
impossible to breathe with her nose flattened and her lips mashed gloriously to his groin. She 
didn't care. A salacious thrill washed over her at the knowledge that she'd orally engulfed 
every possible millimeter of his sturdy young stalk.

With her lips glued to the flared base of his shaft's root, she sucked down voraciously and 
began swallowing fast and hard, wagging her head like a dog worrying a bone.

"OOOHHH... MOM... AAAHHH!" Regan cried, his entire torso shuddering with the bliss of 
what his mother was doing to him. It felt like she was trying to suck his dick out by its roots 
and swallow it whole.

The ringed portion of the mother's gulping gullet skimmed swiftly back and forth over the 
son's bloated glans, each ring tugging separately at the nerve-laden flare of his sensitive 
coronal ridge. It was a hundred times better than the way she'd sucked on his peter before. 
Impulsively he grabbed her head and hunched her face, instinctively attempting to stuff his 
tight, hot nuts into her pleasure-giving mouth too.

Harriet clutched the tensed cheeks of his squirming bottom. She tugged and pulled, 
helping him in his lewd effort. Her spine stood out as she strained to bow her back more. The 
back of her head dug in between her shoulder blades. She could feel his prick bending in her 
throat. It felt as if she were suffocating. Her lungs begged for air but she wouldn't let up. She 
opened her mouth wider and jutted out her chin. His small, immature testicles hugged his 
body in orgasmic readiness. Her lower lip slid jerkily over the convex undersurface of his 
crinkled scrotum, then up the rear of it.

"NNAAAHHHH! " Regan cried, as he felt the moist heat of her mouth enclosing his balls.

Her lower lip stretched itself to the limit. It quivered and jerked with the effort, but finally it
snuggled up to the inch of flesh separating his gonads and his puckered asshole, and Harriet 
felt positively giddy with the lascivious success of her demented accomplishment.
They're in my mouth! I'm sucking his precious dick and his darling testicles too! Harriet 
moaned inwardly, her brain fairly reeling with lust.

Gluing her lips to his feverish crotch, she sucked and swallowed around the head of his rod
as she simultaneously laved his nuts, her pink tongue curling this way and that to reach 
beneath and to the sides and clear up behind the oblong goodies.

If she could've, Harriet would've remained indefinitely with her son's privates held in oral 
captivity. But her need for oxygen became greater than her runaway desire, and she had to 
come up for air. She ran her hands across the smooth globes of his tremulous buttocks, 
clasped his hips and, pushing at them, she drew back her head. Her red lips clung to the 
white, saliva-coated shaft, distending out around it as it retreated from her mouth. The 
blood-filled knob departed her oral chamber with a loud, wet slurping noise.

"OOOOHH!" she moaned. It was a terrible loss. She hadn't wanted to part with even a 
fraction of an inch of Regan's desirable dong for so much as a split second.

Her mouth agape, she gazed ravenously at the pulsating, spit-glistening organ through 
slitted, lust-glazed eyes, and she huffed gaspingly to catch her breath.

"DON'T STOP, MOM!" Regan pleaded. "I'M 'BOUT TO CUM! SUCK IT SOME MORE! EAT MY 
DICK! TAKE ME ALL THE WAY! VACUUM IT OUT OF MY NUTS AND DRINK IT DOWN, YOU 
HUNGRY BITCH! "

"JESUS!" Harriet whined, wondering where in the world her innocent offspring had learned
to talk that way. She had no idea that he was only emulating Bob, repeating the vulgar 
phrases he'd heard the college student spouting when he observed her blowing the young 
man during her alcoholic blackout on the night she'd become a cocksucking adulteress. But 
Regan's obscene words slammed indecently into her lust- inflamed brain, and his dirty talk 
whipped her raging passion all the higher.

"OH, REGAN! " she panted, her eyes smoldering as she glanced up at his desire- twisted 
visage. "YOU'RE RIGHT... MOTHER IS A HUNGRY BITCH! I'LL SUCK YOUR... SWEET COCK... AND 
DRINK YOUR CUM! GOD, YES... GLADLY... ONLY LET ME... GET MY... BREATH FIRST!"

Her hand shook like a leaf as she reached for his upstanding pole. She wrapped her 
slender fingers around the upward-angled shaft and squeezed it lovingly.

"IT ACHES!" he wailed.

Harriet stroked his rampant erection sympathetically. "I KNOW, DARLING, BUT... JUST GIVE
MOTHER... A MINUTE... AND THEN SHE'LL... FINISH FELLATING YOU!"

"FINISH WH-WHAT?"

"SUCKING YOUR COCK!" she rasped. "GOING DOWN ON YOU! BLOWING YOU! LORD 
GOD, I'VE NEVER BEEN... THIS HOT IN... ALL MY FUCKIN' LIFE!"

Regan blinked. He shook his head. It shocked him to hear his own mother talking that way,
in spite of everything that'd gone before. Slowly his face changed. The comers of his mouth 
curled up. His blue eyes twinkled glassily. He was grinning. Not like a young boy with the 
mother he loved, but like a horny man with a sexy slut he might've picked up in a bar 
somewhere.

"COCKSUCKER!" he hissed, still grinning, looking her right in the eye. "OOUUU!" Harriet 
whimpered. She flinched but didn't look away. "SAY IT AGAIN!"
"COCKSUCKER! HUNGRY COCKSUCKER!"

"OH, GOD!" she moaned. Being verbally degraded by her own little boy made Harriet feel 
cheap and soiled but wonderfully wicked. "YES, YOU LITTLE SHIT, THAT'S WHAT I AM... A 
HUNGRY COCKSUCKER... YOUR COCKSUCKER!"

Although she hadn't fully caught her breath, Harriet couldn't resist the overwhelming urge
to show him how right he was about her. Her heart thumped wildly against her heaving rib 
cage. She roughly stripped his foreskin all the way back and, with no thought of the future, 
she greedily took the purplish dome of his swollen glans penis into her hot, wet mouth.

Her puffy red lips formed a vacuum-like seal around the top of his stony young stem. She 
sucked down until her cheeks folded inward and began quivering like a suckling infant's. Her 
tongue slithered about like a slippery snake, coiling caressingly over, under and around the 
knob of musky boy-meat.

"MOM! OOOOH!" he gasped. "HUNGRY BITCH... LOVE YOU... OH, IT FE-FEELS SO GOOD! 
COCKSUCKER... AAHHH... SUCK IT, SUCK IITTT!!"

The entire earth seemed to be revolving sordidly around Harriet. She squirmed about on 
the toilet, working herself forward until she could wriggle her rump and rub the raw-red head 
of her elongated clitoris against the rim of the seat.

"MMM, MMM, MMM!" she chanted nasally, sucking and licking the head of his tool as she
jacked her gripping hand up and down the curved shaft. Her head twisted and turned from 
side to side, bobbing only slightly with her lips pressed against the thumb and forefinger of 
her cadence-setting hand.

Regan's head hung down, his chin touching his chest. He stared in awe-stricken arousal at 
his mother's head, which appeared to his glassy eyes to be moving in every direction at once. 
The warm tingling sensations had begun on the insides of his thighs, and were seeping up 
into his sweltering loins. He couldn't be still. His arms swung forward. His pudgy fingers buried
in the loose curls of her shag-cut brunette hair. He clasped her head, started jerking on it as 
he lost control of himself and began fucking her face.

"OOOM!" Harriet mewled, when his dickhead and perhaps a half-inch of its supporting 
shaft started stabbing in and out of her suctioning mouth, the coronal ridge forcing her lips to
open and close around it, effecting a continual stream of tiny wet slurping noises that rang 
obscenely in her burning ears.

She realized he was about to cum, could hardly wait for it to happen. Her hand serving as 
a spacer, she more than willingly allowed him to hold her head and pump his succulent glans 
back and forth through the soft, receptive circle of her fluttering oral petals. Oh, darling, yes, 
yesss! she yelled silently. Screw Mother's face! Cum in my mouth! You couldn't have much 
cream in those little boy's balls, but I want every sweet drop you can give me!

Her midsection pumped back and forth as she rode the toilet seat, making the ultra sensitive 
head of her hotly pulsing pleasure button flick up and down over the inside edge. 
About to attain climax herself, Harriet sucked the thrusting knob of his fluid-leaking crown like
a female vampire dying of thirst. Her sinful tongue flailed whip-like at the jabbing knob, 
begging it to spit out a load, however small, so she could have the supreme thrill of tasting his
pure young juices while she masturbated to orgasm by rubbing her streaming, sopping-wet 
snatch against the cool hardness of the seat.
The pre-orgasmic tightening drew her loins into an aching condition of bitter- sweetness. She 
struggled to hold back the tide of her own impending release, wanting more than anything 
else in the world to have him cum the same time she did. For a moment she feared she 
wouldn't be able to wait, then Regan began gasping and whimpering, banging his pecker at 
her so hard the front of her shaft-gripping hand pounded her lips like a hammer, bruising 
them against the fronts of her teeth, and she knew victory was hers.

Letting herself go, she sucked like a she-demon to bring him off as the first contractions of
her orgasmic platform pulled her throbbing clitoris back into the fluted folds of shimmering 
crimson cuntflesh within the inverted V at the top of her twitching twat.

"UUUMMMM!" she sighed through desire-dilated nostrils, and she bore down on the edge
of the hard commode seat, compressing her spongy clefted mound in order to massage her 
clit even though it'd already disappeared into the haven of warmth comprised of her 
blood-congested privates.

"NNN, NNN, NNN!" Regan chanted gruntingly, holding his mother's head while he fucked 
her face with mindless abandon.

He was hurting her hand, nearly crushing her lips between it and her teeth, but the 
discomfort he was causing her excited Harriet all the more. The pain was delicious. She 
accepted it gratefully and wallowed in it masochistically rather than attempting to escape 
from it. Then Regan threw back his head, just as Harriet's climax reached its womb-grabbing 
peak.

"NNNAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!"

His cry of fulfillment vibrated her eardrums and blasted lasciviously into her spinning brain.

"HHHUUUOOOMMM!!!" she groaned around his wildly twitching prong.

The bulbous head swelled up like a balloon. It expelled a timid jet of sperm-less seminal 
fluids into the hot, wet cavern of Harriet's cum-coaxing mouth. The weak surge of thin, sticky 
ejaculate fell onto her eagerly awaiting tongue.

"MMM-UUUMMM!" she cried, her entire body shuddering with an extra burst of rapture 
as her son's hot fuck-juice permeated the pores of her tongue and set her discerning taste 
buds to tingling with sheer delight.

The small offering from the depths of his untainted loins was delicious beyond compare. It
had a flavor all its own. There was a delicate hint of masculine acridity that caused only a faint 
prickling similar to a very mild hot sauce. But overall his tiny spurt of immature cum tasted 
unbelievably sweet and pure. Harriet wished he had a cupful of it for her instead of only a few 
scrumptious drops. It was nectar fit for a goddess, an ambrosial delicacy that she knew she 
would never be able to get enough of from this moment on.

"COOM, COOM!" she begged, talking through her nose.

Wild horses couldn't have pulled her greedy mouth off his juice-oozing cockhead just 
then. Greedily she lapped it up drop by milky-white drop as it trickled out through the 
pouting eye at the tip of his throbbing glans. She shivered and shook with the mind-fogging 
bliss of her own climactic tremoring. Her fluttering pussy leaked a pool of clear woman-goo 
over the toilet seat. More of the same hung down in silvery strings from her hairy crack, 
stretching, breaking, dribbling into the piss-yellowed water in the bowl below.
"AAAAHH... OOOHHHH... AAAHHHHH!!!!" Regan sighed and moaned. This was by far the best 
cum he'd had. It felt to him as if his mother was trying to suck the very marrow right out of his
bones!

More, more... keep it coming! Harriet pleaded mentally.

She milked his dong with her hand while she sucked on the expanding and contracting 
glans. Even when it stopped pulsating and started to deflate, she wouldn't give it up. She drew
harshly on the leachy knob, scrubbing it with her tongue, until finally she drained the 
whimpering child of every last drop his shrinking penis could produce for her lecheress' 
appetite.

"GOD, that was marvelous!" she husked, when at long last she allowed his limber rod to 
slip from between her puffy red lips.

"I th-thought for a minute... you was goin' to suck it clean off! " Regan whined.

"Oh, precious, did I hurt you? I know I got carried away, but I didn't mean to hurt you! I'm 
sorry if I did! Mother wouldn't damage her little man's adorable fat dick for anything in the 
world!"

"It's all right," he gasped. "It hu-hurt good! "

"Mmmm! I could tell you liked it, sweetheart," she crooned as she threw her arms around 
him. She hugged him tight, then began rubbing the side of her face against his warm, 
perspiration-slippery tummy, caressing his fatty bottom, and going, "Mmm... aahh... oohhh... 
precious... Mother's precious baby boy!"

Regan smiled. He patted her head. "I wish Bob was here."

Harriet stiffened. She drew back, easing him away, and glanced up at his face. He was 
grinning impishly, his eyes sparkling with lewdness. "Wh-what in the world for?" she asked 
worriedly.

"So you could suck on his dick and make him cum in your mouth again," he replied with 
youthful honesty. "I'd like to see that again, Mom! Oh boy, yeah! Why don't you call him and 
have him come over, and we can take turns fuckin' you and lettin' you suck our dicks!"

"Oh, Regan, nooh!" she wailed, horrified that he would even suggest such a vulgar thing. 
"You can't mean that!" But she could see he did, and the lustful she- creature that'd been 
awakened within her liked the sordid idea!

"OH, NOOH!" she groaned.

Harriet shook her head, as if returning to normalcy after a temporary lapse of sanity. 
Suddenly she shoved Regan away. "OHMYGOD! WHAT HAVE I DONE? DON'T EVEN MENTION 
BOB! AND DON'T YOU TOUCH ME AGAIN, EITHER! WHAT WE DID WAS WRONG! HORRIBLY 
WRONG! WE MUST NEVER, NEVER LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN! DEAR GOD, WHAT HAVE I DONE... 
WHAT HAVE I DONE?!!"

CHAPTER SIX

Harriet was depressed for days. She went around with her eyes swollen and red from 
crying so much. Guilt gnawed at her constantly. There was no excuse for what she'd done. 
Always before, she'd considered herself a decent woman, a proper wife and a loving mother. 
Now she could hardly stand to look at herself in the mirror.
If her sin had stopped with Bob, she would've been able to rationalize her actions because, 
after all, she was only human and had no way of knowing for sure if she still had a husband; 
and it was pure hell, the life situation she and countless other MIA and POW wives had had 
forced upon them. It was intolerable, enough to drive a normal woman crazy, much less to 
drink and adultery. But she hadn't stopped with Bob.

Why did Regan have to come home that night and catch me in bed with Bob?! she kept 
asking herself. Why, why, why?! Oh, damn it to hell, I should've had better sense than to invite 
Bob to the house! It's all my fault!

Self-forgiveness was impossible. Harriet's burden of scathing shame saw to that. And the 
worst part of it was, even with her shame, Harriet couldn't deny that in her weaker moments 
she was tempted to cast decency to the winds and carry on an insane love affair with her 
young son, for now that they'd tasted the forbidden fruit of incest and found it luscious 
indeed, Regan couldn't look at her without getting a hard-on, and when he did, it made 
Harriet want him so badly she could scream.

Lord, help me. Give me strength, she would pray silently, her mouth watering as she stole 
furtive glances at the all but irresistible bulge in Regan's trousers. Cast this demon of lust out 
of me, Jesus! Don't let me sin again! I'm weak! One more time and I'll be lost forever!

Their mother/son relationship had changed. The love was still there, perhaps stronger than
before, but now it had a carnal overtone and was no longer pure. All Harriet could hope for 
was to hold the line. Temptation was always with them. It was up to her to resist it, for she 
knew Regan wouldn't. He didn't try to touch her because she'd forbidden him to. But the way 
she would catch him looking at her, his eyes smoldering and his pants like a tent, left no 
doubt that he wanted to, and would if she gave him half a chance.

Nearly every evening Regan offered to fix her a drink. Harriet knew what he was up to. She
could read his naive young mind like a printed page. If she got drunk, Harriet knew he was 
thinking, it might happen again. And he was right, too. Harriet knew it would happen again if 
she got drunk, so for that reason she wouldn't touch a drop of alcohol.

A month passed. To all outward appearances, things were back to normal. As much as 
could be expected, anyway. Harriet began to breathe easier. The crucial period was over. Both 
she and her son had survived it with no serious emotional scars, after all. The resiliency of the 
human spirit amazed Harriet. Her faith that goodness would continue to prevail returned, and 
this brightened her outlook considerably. Trusting her hopes rather than reality, she dropped 
her guard, and that was her mistake.

During Christmas vacation, Harriet and her son flew to Dallas to spend the holidays with 
her parents, as they'd done the previous two Christmases, Harriet being unable to bear the 
extra loneliness which Christmas without Curt brought on. This time, however, Harriet's 
younger sister, who'd remained single until recently, pursuing with no great success a 
theatrical career in New York, arrived home the same day Harriet did, with her new husband in
tow.

There being only two spare bedrooms, Harriet couldn't very well decline when, after 
several spiked eggnogs and hours of warm family togetherness before the crackling fireplace 
on Christmas Eve, her mother assigned one of the bedrooms to Mary and Steve, the other to 
Harriet and Regan. After all, Regan was only a little boy of twelve and, under the 
circumstances, what kind of lame excuse-barring the truth which Harriet would rather die than
tell her mother-could she possibly give for not
wanting to sleep with her own child?

None. And besides, Regan had been behaving himself lately, hadn't he? So as soon as the 
sleeping arrangements were made, Harriet sent the boy to bed even though it was only a few 
minutes after nine, figuring that when she went to bed later, he would already be asleep. This 
precaution made it seem safe enough to her. Later she would slip quietly into bed, being 
careful not to wake Regan. He wouldn't even know she was there until morning, when it was 
time to get up, so what possible harm could come of it?

Shortly after eleven, Harriet, drowsy, more tipsy than she realized, said her good- nights at 
the same time her parents did. They went to their rooms, leaving the newlyweds cuddled 
romantically on the couch before the glowing embers of the dying fire.

Things went exactly as Harriet had planned, or so she thought. Regan appeared to be 
sound asleep when she tiptoed into the bedroom that'd been hers as a teenager.
Texas moonlight filtered softly through the feminine curtains at the window. She'd laid out her
nightgown earlier, so she wouldn't have to turn on a lamp. Quietly she undressed, with the 
exception of her panties, slipped on her nightgown and climbed cautiously into bed.

"Regan?" she murmured. "Are you asleep?" No answer.
Harriet breathed a sigh of relief. She drew up the cover, clasped her hands beneath her head 
and smiled dolefully up at the ceiling. It was good to be with her family at this special time of 
the year. Being with her parents, in the home of her adolescent memories, made her feel 
secure and protected again, silly as she knew that was for a woman of forty.

It was obvious that Mary and Steve were very much in love, and Harriet was happy for her 
younger sister. But seeing them hold hands most of the evening, glancing repeatedly at one 
another the way lovebirds often do, made Harriet long all the more to be reunited with her 
own beloved husband.

How she missed Curt tonight! She felt good, so physically alive. There was so much love 
inside her. She fairly glowed from within. Her heart was full to overflowing with the type of 
sensual love that a woman feels for her man. If Curt were only with her tonight, she would 
smother him with kisses and give him the loving of his life!

But Curt wasn't with her. The memories of their happy life together was all she had. And 
the son he'd given her.

Dear God, she prayed, let him be alive and well! Send him home to me soon!

Sleep wouldn't come. Harriet cried silently, as die often did in the stillness of the night, and
the tears she shed seemed even more bitter than usual.

Perhaps a half hour after Harriet had retired, Mary and Steve went to bed. The walls 
weren't as thick as they might've been, and Mary's old room was next to Harriet's, across the 
hall from their parent's master bedroom. Although she couldn't distinguish their words, 
Harriet couldn't help overhearing their voices in conversation while, she supposed, they were 
getting undressed.

The heads of the beds were separated only by the two-by-four and thin plasterboard wall. 
When the couple got into bed, Harriet could hear Mary's box springs, which
had always been squeaky, protesting their combined weight. She could hear them squirming 
around in bed. Then the squirming stopped and there were several wet smacks, muted by the 
wall, which sounded like a series of rapid lips-only kisses.

Silence followed. For a moment, Harriet assumed her sister and handsome new 
brother-in-law had dropped off to sleep immediately. But the bed began rustling again, and 
Harriet thought she could hear her sister giggling like a schoolgirl.

What the dickens are they doing in there? Harriet thought with amusement. Mary was 
thirty-two and the adolescent giggling just didn't fit. In fact, it sounded downright ludicrous 
coming from a mature woman.

Her curiosity piqued, Harriet eased out of bed, stood up and pressed her ear to the wall. 
She felt sneaky eavesdropping on them, but she had to know what was going on on the other
side of the wall.

"Honey, nooh! Ha, ha! Stop tickling me, damn it!" Mary was pleading. "Not tonight, Steve! 
Harriet may not be-oh, hee, hee, hee-asleep yet! I'm afraid she might-ha, ha-oh, you bastard, 
mi-might hear us! "

"Harriet was half asleep when she went to bed," Steve replied in a coaxing, mirthful voice. 
"Even if she does hear us, so what? She knows what it's all about, and besides, it isn't like we're
just living together now, is it? Doesn't that marriage license give us the right to ball all we 
want to? Come on, Mary, spread those gorgeous legs and help me get this bone in you. You 
know I can't go to sleep in this condition. Do you want me to toss and turn all night?"

Mary kept saying no, and giggling harder and harder. Then Steve started laughing, too, 
and it sounded like they were having a wrestling match. He must've been tickling her 
unmercifully, and since Mary had always been terribly ticklish, Harriet knew she couldn't take it
too much longer.

"Uncle... ha, ha... uncle... ho, ho... I gi-give innn!" Mary soon squealed.

The wrestling noises stopped abruptly, and Harriet could hear her sister huffing for breath 
as her laughter died down.

"You horny bastard," Mary scolded in a husky voice that sounded pleased rather than 
angry. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Don't you care what kind of impression you 
make on my family?"

"Sure I do," Steve told her. "They're swell people. But I figure they're all dead to the world, 
otherwise they'd have come banging on the door to see what was the matter, you were 
laughing so loud. If that didn't wake them up, nothing will, so let's fuck and do it good, 'cause 
I'm wild for a piece of that prime ass you pack around."

"What did I ever see in the likes of your uncouth hide?" Mary teased. "Besides eight inches 
of delicious fat dick?" he quipped.
"Besides that," Mary said. "Which I can get anywhere, and don't you ever forget it," she added 
tauntingly.

"It's the quality not the size that counts, Mary doll. You love me and that's what makes 
mine best."

"Damned if I don't. Now hurry up, you've got me wanting it! Climb on, stud man, and sock 
it to your hot-assed mama!"
Harriet's cheeks burned at the way her "little sister" was carrying on with her plain-spoken 
husband. It came as a shock to learn they'd shacked up for God only knew how long before 
they'd decided to get married and make it legal. In a way, though, it was a relief for Harriet to 
know she wasn't the only sexually misbehaving daughter in the family and, for the life of her, 
she couldn't help the surge of unbidden excitement as she overheard her sister and well-hung
brother-in- law preparing to have sexual intercourse in the next room.

Their bed jiggled. Without being conscious of doing so, Harriet pressed her ear more 
firmly to the thin interior wall and held her breath expectantly.

"Take hold of it, Mary doll. Guide it in. The stiff's got one eye but he's blind as a bat."

"The poor dear," Mary cooed. "I guess I'll have to help him find his way home. Let me take 
his hood off. Jesus, it feels good, honey! Your cock's hard as a goddamn rock tonight!"

"Didn't I tell you? There... aah... hot and wet... nice and slick! You are ready for me, aren't 
you fuck-stuff?"

"I said I wanted it, didn't I?"

"Damn right, and you're gonna get it, too! Take a deep breath, Mary doll, 'cause it'll be the 
last good one you get for a while! I'm comin' in now, and I'm gonna screw ten pounds of that 
sassy fat rump off you before I float your ovaries with this rusty load of hot jism! "

"Promises, promises, all I ever get is promOOOH... NNNN... HHUUUAAAHHH!!! " There was
a sharp intake of Mary's breath, then a breathy exhalation that was half-sigh, half-groan.

"JESUS!" Mary whined. "Honey, don't be so rough! You nearly punctured my uterus!"

"That hunk of gristle can take a pounding, and it's sure as hell in for one tonight! " 
Suddenly the bed began squawking loudly.

"OHH, OHH, OHH!" Harriet could hear her sister chanting breathlessly. "EASE UP, CAVE 
MAN! SLOW DOWN! THEY'RE GOING TO... OOOUUU... HEAR US!"

Harriet's pussy twitched involuntarily. Her heart beat faster. There was the oddest 
sensation in her belly and loins, much like the time she'd gone to the bathroom late at night 
when she was fourteen and had heard her parents going at it through their closed and locked 
bedroom door. This was the only other time in her life she'd heard another couple fucking 
and, because she was starved for sex herself, it was affecting her instantly, making her wildly 
aroused!

Through the wall she could hear the bed springs squeaking rhythmically, popping, 
snapping. Oh, good grief! she thought, the erotic noises ringing lewdly in her flattened, 
straining ear. Steve's screwing the hell out of her! And it sounds like Mary loves it, too! She's 
not complaining any more! Oh God, listen to her moan! It sounds so good!

"FUCK ME, FUCK ME... AAHHH... DRILL IT IN DEEPER!"

"WHAT ABOUT THE NOISE?" Steve laughed tensely.

"PISS ON THE NOISE!" Mary shot back. "NO ONE WILL HEAR US! THEY'RE ALL ASLEEP!
CHRIST, WHAT A MAN! OOOOHHHH... HOSE ME GOOD! SWAB MY WOMB WITH THAT BIG 
FAT POLE! OHH, OHHHHH... CRAM IT UP ME! HARDER! FASTER! SWEET DICK! I LOVE IT... 
LLOOVVEE ITT!!!"

Harriet wondered if Mary's old bed could take the furious gyrations of their thrashing 
bodies.

They were literally screwing up a storm in there. It was downright animalistic, the way they 
were going at it. She'd never dreamed that decent people ever let themselves go so 
completely, grunting and groaning and crying out. It was almost as if they were attaching 
each other!

She didn't know what to think. Her body felt feverish, yet she began trembling as if she 
were chilled to the bone. Not so loud! she felt like rushing into their room and pleading, for 
she feared their abandoned act of heated sexual intercourse would wake up her son.

It embarrassed Harriet to think that her parents might be overhearing the impassioned 
outcries and squeaking bedsprings, but she didn't want Mary and Steve to stop. Not now. 
There was a delicious ache in the pit of her stomach.

The hot blood of unsummoned desire coursed pulsingly through Harriet's veins. It was 
giving her a terrific vicarious thrill to listen with her ear pressed tightly to the wall while her 
stud of a brother-in-law gave her younger sister such a rough and thorough fucking. She 
envied Mary. It was crazy to even think such blatantly indecent thoughts, but she couldn't help
wishing it was she not her sister in there with the handsome New Yorker, her butt being driven
down into the mattress as he rammed his big eight-inch dong in and out of the dribbling slot 
of her burning, itching pussy.

"YOU'RE BRINGING ME OFF!" Mary shrieked. "HURRY, STEVE! CUM WITH ME, DARLING! 
SHOVE THAT FAT DICK... CLEAR UP TO MY TITS AND... OOOHHH... SHOOT IT OUT... HOT AND
DDEEEEPPPP!!!! " By the way Steve started grunting, Harriet suspected he was about to cum 
off, too. It sounded as if he were trying to give Mary exactly what she'd cried out for. The head
of the bed started bumping the wall, then going BAM, BAM, BAM against it. Harriet's brain 
swam luridly. She could vividly imagine what it would look like if she could see them fucking 
furiously, both of them lost to lust as they worked together toward a simultaneous climax, the 
bed bouncing, Steve's huge sex-wetted organ ravishing Mary as it plunged like a piston to the
very depths of her feminine belly.

The obscene mental picture, combined with the sordid sounds of what was actually taking 
place, made Harriet's cock-starved snatch gulp hungrily. Vaginal dew had already been leaking
from the hairy crack between her weak-kneed legs. As the fluttering walls of her silky sheath 
clapped together, longing for the feel of a filling length of hotly throbbing man-meat, a 
veritable wave of sticky wetness gushed out of her, making her swollen pussy petals flap 
voluptuously. The slimy crotchband of her nylon underpants couldn't soak up the copious 
surge of viscous woman goo. Harriet whimpered aloud when she felt her cuntal secretions 
trickling all warm and wet down the insides of her thighs.

"NOW, NOW!" Marty trilled. "CRAM IT UP ME! STUFF ME WITH COCK! SQUIRT IT OUT, 
BABY! BATHE MY WOMB WITH YOUR HOT FUCK JUICE! I'M CUMMING! OOHHH, OOHHH... 
CUMMING...
AAAHHHHHH!!!! GOD, IT'S SOOO GOOD! I'M CUUUUMMMMIIIINNNNGGGGG!!!!"

For a couple of seconds the bedsprings creaked louder and faster, the headboard 
slamming rapid-fire against the wall, then Harriet heard Steve heave a guttural groan. All 
movement ended abruptly, and Harriet could hear the hoarse, rhythmic grunts as her 
brother-in-law planted his seed in her sister's belly. Mary was
squealing, sighing, moaning, gasping for breath.

They'd made it. They were both cumming at the same time and, to Harriet, nothing had 
ever sounded more indescribably delicious!

Harriet felt dizzy and lightheaded. In the inverted V at the top of Her twitching twat, her 
blood-glutted clit throbbed empathically. Her legs were turning to rubber. She had to lean 
against the wall to keep from falling, for suddenly the room started spinning round and 
around. The vicarious thrill of it was so tremendous that she had to bite her tongue to keep 
from screaming!

Flames of inadvertently aroused desire lapped searingly up into the hidden recesses of her
blood-congested loins. Her knees knocked together. She couldn't stop shivering, even though
she was burning up. Her teeth started to chatter. Harriet felt as if she were coming unglued 
and falling apart at the seams. She yearned to be thrown to her back and carnally ravaged. 
Never in all her forty years had she been so crazy for cock. She wanted to get fucked more 
than anything in the world.
If she didn't get some kind of relief, she would start climbing the walls!

She'd been facing away from the bed, with her right ear pressed to the wall. The door was 
about three feet in front of her. Without glancing back-her slumbering son was the farthest 
thing from her passion-fogged mind right now-she tiptoed silently toward the door, intending
to dash stealthily across the hall, lock herself in the bathroom and masturbate like a silly 
schoolgirl in order to bring on the orgasm she so desperately needed. Her hand was on the 
doorknob when she heard Regan whisper her name.

"Mom?"

Harriet nearly jumped out of her skin. She whirled about, startled, alarmed, and faced the 
bed. Her eyes had adapted to the darkness. By the dim illumination of curtain-filtered 
moonlight she could see her little boy standing up at the head of the bed. He had his ear 
pressed to the wall. Evidently he'd been awakened by the noises from the next room, had 
observed her secretly listening and had followed suit, also secretly, without her noticing the 
movement of their bed because of her preoccupation.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

He was still whispering, but she could tell he was terribly excited, just as she herself was. 
How long had he been listening? How much had he heard? Harriet wished she could 
evaporate. Being caught in the act of eavesdropping by her own young son made her feel 
humiliated, cheap and sneaky. She couldn't seem to find her voice.

"Come to bed!" Regan coaxed. "I heard Aunt Mary and Uncle Steve fucking too! I wanna 
do .it to you! Please, Mom, just this once. My peter hurts!"

Vertigo swept over her. The earth did a flip-flop. She couldn't think straight. By everything 
holy and decent, she shouldn't even consider what her little boy said, but his urgent begging 
melted something inside her.

Before she realized what she was doing, Harriet had locked the door and was hurrying 
toward the bed, whisking her nightgown off over her head. When she stopped beside the bed,
Regan was shucking off his pajamas. She flung away her nightgown, hooked her thumbs in 
the elastic waistband of her nylon briefs, tugged them over the flares of her womanly hips and
buttocks and let them fall silently down the tapering columns of her shapely, slender legs. 
There was an almost inaudible splat when her secretion-drenched crotch-strip hit the floor 
between her bare feet. She stepped out of the wispy undergarment, leaving it lie where it'd 
fallen, and,
throwing back the covers, hopped into bed totally nude, assuming the classic female position 
of submission-on her back with her legs spread wide apart.

"Lord help us!" she whined, as her naked son mounted her. "We shouldn't be doing this, 
Regan! It's wrong... so wrong!"

But wrong or not, the cock-craving mother was as eager for incestuous penetration as the 
sexually awaking boy. Willfully she reached between their feverish loins, took hold of his 
rampant erection and peeled back its foreskin hood. Breathless with anticipation, she guided 
the denuded glans to her sex and wedged its bluntly rounded tip between the pouting labia 
of her well-lubricated private opening.

"Push, precious! Stick it in me!"

Regan's buttocks tensed. He snapped his hips and sank his stalk into his mother's 
wonderful hole. Her pussy opened around him like a flower welcoming the beneficial rays of 
the morning sun. "AAAH!" Harriet sighed reflexively, as the bulbous head of his ferrous rod 
popped through the erogenous ring of her inner labia and reamed its way thrillingly up the 
stretchable sheath of her snug vagina.

Harriet sucked in her breath raggedly, shivering with sinful delight as his heated young 
testicles kissed the fourchette of her hairy crack and his warm, plump tummy covered her 
abdomen, his bald pubis pressing intimately against her densely haired mons veneris. He was 
into her clear up to the hilt, her own beloved son, and it felt divine to have his pulsating 
pecker soaking inside her sweltering snatch.

"YES, YES... AAA-GOD, IT'S WONDERFUL!" she husked, as he began stroking it to her. "SO 
WRONG... SO WICKED... BUT, CHRIST, IT FEELS SOO GOOD... GOODDDD!!!"

She flung her arms around him and clasped the fatty buns of his bouncing boyish behind. 
Wantonly she tugged at his bottom to help him hit into her sopping split harder and deeper.

This was what Regan had been dreaming of. It was even better than he remembered. Her 
body was a warm wet puddle. He could hear their stomachs slapping together moistly as he 
pumped his rear end up and down, dipping his dick in and out of the slippery sleeve of her 
hungry hot hole. It felt as if his mother's ravenous cunt was trying to eat him alive and how he 
loved it!

Harriet drew up her legs. She flexed her knees and pressed down with her feet, employing 
the muscles in her legs as she started throwing it up to him. Working with him made it twice 
as good. She slammed her greedy snatch up to him, matching him thrust for rapid thrust. 
Their perspiration-dampened abdomens met in midair, kissing joyously as her mature cunt 
gobbled up every bit of his pleasure-giving young prick again and again.

"FUCK ME, YOU SWEET THING! HARDER! FASTER!" Harriet cried, her runaway passion 
causing her to forget for the moment where they were, and the dangerous circumstances 
under which they were so mindlessly reveling in the incestuous bliss of their forbidden act of 
feral fornication.

"MOM!" he gasped, humping all the harder but with choppy, ever-shortening jabs. "OHH, 
OHH, OHH!"

She could tell by his urgent thrusting and the tone of his voice that he was about to pop 
his darling young nuts. They'd been hooked up pussy and peter for hardly more than a 
minute, but it was long enough. Harriet had been wildly aroused when he'd penetrated her, 
already hanging on the verge of an orgasm, and his pumping prick had her primed for the 
glorious event.
"YOU'RE ABOUT TO... TO CUM?" she gasped. "ALREADY?"

He groaned. He nodded. He tried to answer but couldn't speak, for he was caught in the 
grip of a mushrooming ecstasy. His lust-dazed condition whipped Harriet's excitement to an 
almost unbearable plateau.

"THEN DO IT!" she squealed, bucking and squirming as he hammered it to her. "I'M READY
TOO! FUCK! FUCK! YOU'RE BRINGING ME OFF WWIITTHH YOU! OH GOD... FASTER... HARDER...
SWEET DICK... MAKE IT SPIT... IN ME... AAAHHH... GIVE MOTHER YOUR CUMMM!!!"

Regan threw a volley of staccato-like jabs into her. His mother's steaming slot seemed to 
be grabbing at his aching peter, sucking on it. She was jerking at his butt, no longer hunching 
up to meet him. But her back was arched, her soft belly brushing his as she gyrated her rump 
in a circular motion, bearing down on his rod, bending it inside her hot, sopping-wet cunt.

"NNN, NNN, NNN!" Harriet chanted, her face contorting with the heavenly torture of it as 
the uneven upper surface of Regan's pistoning pecker scrubbed incessantly against the 
raw-red head of her throbbing pleasure button.

The tension of their pre-orgasmic tightening virtually blanked their minds. At this point 
they were barely conscious of their individual identities. They were melting together, 
becoming one. Neither Harriet nor Regan could tell where their own body left off and the one 
of the other began. In the back of her passion-dulled mind, Harriet was dimly aware that the 
turgid organ of masculinity skewering into her tingling snatch belonged to her own beloved 
son, but this realization made it all the more sublime.

"DO IT, DO IITTT!!!" she hissed, squeezing his fatty buns as she pulled his pounding prong 
possessively all the way into her palpitating twat. "IT'S GETTING... TOO GOOD! AAAHHH... 
CAN'T WAIT FOR YOU! I'M GOING OFF! NOW, NOW! HOH, SWEET JESUS... OOHH... 
CUMMING... I'M CUMMING! HURRY, BABY, HURRY! CUM, CUM, CUM...
PLEASE CUM... IN ME!!!"

Harriet bore down with her feet and shoulders, her back arching as she bowed upward, 
lifting her torso completely off the bed and supporting Regan's full weight. For a moment she 
hung there suspended, gasping for breath, her asscheeks quivering in midair, as her unfurling 
climax washed over her like a boiling wave.

"NNNNAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!! " she groaned gutturally, and collapsed back to the bed still 
clinging to Regan's butt to keep his pleasure-giving organ embedded to the hilt in her 
twitching sex.

Her vagina plunged into the age-old dance of female fulfillment, its velvety walls 
alternately squeezing and relaxing to caress the length of throbbing maleness it harbored.

"UUNNN!" Regan moaned, shivering helplessly as the milking action of his mother's 
slippery, hot cuntflesh drew him into orgasm with her. "OOOOHHHH... MOM...
AAGGHHH... UNG, UNG, UNGGG!!!"

"AAAHH... YES, DARLING, YESSS!" Harriet trilled, kneading his buttocks. "I CAN FE- FEEL... 
YOUR COCK... TWITCHING INSIDE MEEE! OOOHHHH... GAWD, GAWD... LORD, HOW
SSWWEEETTT!!! " Perhaps it was her imagination, but she thought she could also feel a jet of 
hot cream erupt from his expanding and contracting glans. It wasn't a forceful stream, and 
there wasn't much of it, but her hypersensitive cervix detected the additional heat of 
something sticky-wet bathing over it.
"AAAA-GGGAAAHHHH!!!! " she cried brokenly, her head rolling rapturously from side to side 
as she realized that her innocent young son actually was squirting a small load of immature 
boy-stuff into her heaving belly. It gave her an illicit thrill that tingled the roots of her hair and 
the tips of her curled-down toes. "SHOOT IT, SHOOT IT... HOT AND SWEETTT!!!"

His prick pulsed like a beating heart, its bloated head ballooning deep inside her silky 
sheath, while he groaned gruntingly in a man-like fashion.

"AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!! " Harriet sighed hoarsely.

She writhed beneath him in sheer carnal delight, reveling in the sinful pleasure of the flesh 
as they cummed together like clandestine lovers rather than mother and son, their bodies 
shuddering from the powerful tremors brought on by the climax of their incestuous union.

"MMMMM... UUUOOOO... HOUUU, HOUUU... OOOHHHHHHH!!! " she moaned 
mournfully, her mouth agape and her eyes clenched tightly shut.

Afterward Harriet felt drained, completely at peace with the world, not nearly as guilty as 
she knew she should be. Regan started to say something. She silenced him with a kiss and told
him not to spoil it with words. Hugging him to her, she rolled them onto their sides, her arms 
and legs still around him with his shrinking penis soaking in her satisfied pussy. She kissed 
peckingly about his contented visage, caressing his back and buttocks until he fell asleep in 
her loving embrace.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The next morning Harriet awakened early. There were no noises coming from other parts 
of the house. Everyone was still in bed. She didn't remember falling asleep the night before. 
Her last memory was of lying naked with Regan sleeping in her arms, the cover thrown back. 
Now the cover was pulled up, and she lay on her side, facing the door. Regan was still 
sleeping, snuggled cozily against her bare backside under the warmth of the covers. She 
remembered clearly what they'd done.

A contented smile tugged at the comers of her mouth. She turned over, without waking 
her child, and gazed with a mixture of guilt, disbelief and at least two kinds of love upon his 
relaxed, girlishly pretty face. Her body glowed with a sense of physical well-being. How could 
she dare to feel so good after, only hours before, she'd willfully committed such an 
unpardonable sin?

But she did feel good, and there was no denying it. She loved Regan this morning almost 
the way she'd loved his father in the early days of their marriage. He was still her little boy, but
everything was different now. Things would never be the same between them again. There 
was no turning back after last night, and she didn't even want to try.

What would Curt think if he knew about us? she wondered, and, thinking of her husband, 
she automatically added the familiar silent prayer, Please, God, let him be alive and well.

Would Curt understand how terribly lonely she'd been without him, and forgive her for 
cuckolding him with his own son? Or would he be outraged, condemning, vindictive? Would 
he even be coming home?

There were only questions, no answers. In the meantime, her life had to go on, with Regan,
who was now her lover as well as her son.
She kissed Regan awake. He smiled, put his arms around her and snuggled close. "Morning, 
Mom. "
"Good morning, precious," she purred, and then touched her finger to his lips, cautioning him 
to keep his voice down so Mary and Steve wouldn't hear them.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," she said softly, her eyes beaming brightly.

She told him everything was different now, that she didn't want to go back to being just 
his mother. Regan was delighted, of course, and to test her, he put his hand between her legs.

"What do you think you're doing, monkey?" "Playin' with your pussy. Is that all right?"
"I should say it is," she crooned and, slipping her arm down past his, she took his semi-erect 
penis in her hand and began fondling it.

His healthy young peter sprang to life. She squeezed it fondly, caressed it gently, patted 
his small, hairless balls lovingly. He sank two fingers into her moistening split and she sighed, 
smiling at him, wriggling about to help him penetrate her as deeply as possible.

"Oh boy," he said, wiggling his fingers around inside her warm, wet cunt. "Let's do it again,
Mom!"

"What?"

"Fuck!"

"Shh, not so loud. Huh-uh, son. I don't think we'd better, not this morning. I'm afraid Mary 
and Steve might wake up and hear us," She nodded toward the hall.

"Or Nanna and Papa," he agreed conspiratorially.

"It wouldn't do for anyone to know about us," she whispered, feeling deliciously sneaky 
and daring, as if she were a playful kid again herself and the two of them were putting 
something naughty over on a stuffy old world. "Especially Nanna and Papa."

Regan nodded. "I know. Don't worry, Mom."

"I'm not worried," she said. "Just cautious. We'll have to be careful if we want to go on 
fucking and having fun this way." She winked at him.

"Okay," he said, and winked back, his hand moving between her legs, fingers dipping in 
and out of her hairy hole, stirring the hot paste that was building inside her.

"Kiss me, you sweet thing!" she breathed huskily.

They kissed. She coaxed his tongue into her mouth and sucked its boyish sweetness while, 
beneath the cover, their hands moved steadily. Jacking him off with one hand, she took hold 
of his wrist with the other and guided his inexperienced hand, teaching him how to 
finger-fuck her to best advantage while they swapped tongues and spit passionately.
When they were breathing hard, both of them nearly ready to cum, she rolled onto her back 
and had him get on top of her, between her parted legs. She skinned back his prick and 
guided it in through the swollen lips of her slippery slot.

"OOOOH!" he whined, and started humping it to her.

"OH, GOD!" she moaned, too loud, and then she caught herself. "No, no, darling!" she 
whispered warningly and, grabbing his plump butt, she drew him into her clear up to his 
quivering young testicles and held him still. "Don't move! They might hear us! Let Mother do 
it! " They lay unmoving in the "missionary position," the door still locked from the night 
before, the cover over them, both of them breathing labouredly but otherwise making no 
sounds. Harriet worked her internal muscles, alternately tightening and relaxing them, making 
her velvety vagina rhythmically squeeze and release the hotly pulsating length of her son's 
cuntally engulfed organ of turgidity.

"Is it good?" she asked, finding it increasingly difficult to keep her voice down as the 
pleasure mounted within her.

Regan nodded tightly, absently licking his lips as he peered up at her with his chin resting 
lightly on her chest.

"It is for... me too!" she panted, prickles of fiery pleasure shooting through her aroused 
loins. "I used to wo-work my pussy this way around Daddy's dick... mmm... when he wanted to
fuck... aaah... before you we-went to sleep!"

"So I wouldn't hear you?"

She nodded. "I wi-wish you had heard us now! Ohh! Mmm! Good Christ, I ne-never 
dreamed then that... oouuu... someday I'd be fu-fucking with you li-like thissss!!!! "

"Shh!" Regan cautioned. "Not so loud, Mom!"

"I CA-CANT HELP IT! I'M ABOUT TO CUM! OOHHHH! KISS ME! RAM YOUR TONGUE 
DO-DOWN MY THROAT! OHH, OHH... MAYBE THAT'LL KE-KEEP ME... AAAHHHH... 
QU-QUIETTT!!!"

Regan kissed his squinting, glassy-eyed mother, and fed her every bit of his tongue. She 
tried to swallow it, sucked on it so hard that he thought she meant to rip it out of his mouth.

"OOMMM, OOMMM, OOMMM!" she moaned around his tongue, her hot breath bathing 
damply over his face as it burst from her flared nostrils smelling a little bit like her pussy did 
when it was nice and juicy.

The muscles of Harriet's abdomen rippled beneath her perspiration-moistened skin. She 
worked her hips, twisting her pelvis and rotating her rump, ruttishly scrubbing the nerve-laden
head of her throbbing clitoris against the flared upper surface of her son's penile root.

"OOOOOMMMMM!!!!" she groaned into his sound-muffling oral chamber as the hot flush 
of sexual fulfillment flooded outward from her suddenly spasming, blood-congested groin, 
her inflamed finger of erectile tissue drawing back jerkily to disappear in the fluted folds of 
shimmering red cuntflesh at the top of her elliptical, hair- fringed orifice.

The orgasm unfurling within her was every bit as intense as the one she'd experienced the 
night before. It was so godawful good that she wanted to throw back
her head and scream out in pleasure at the top of her lungs. But that wasn't possible under 
the circumstances, and she retained barely enough presence of mind to realize it. Instead she 
sobbed piteously, sucking Regan's sweet tongue all the more voraciously, and began gurgling 
and groaning deep in her throat.

Regan was close to having a climax of his own, and the erotic sounds made by his 
squirming, shuddering mother, combined with the way her snug vagina was clutching 
milkingly at his rock-hard stem, brought him even closer. But it wasn't quite enough to carry 
him over the precipice and send him hurtling into the abyss of orgasmic rapture. He bore 
down, trying to stuff his balls into her too, the way he'd fed them into her mouth when she'd 
fellated him back home in San Rafael.

He couldn't get his body-hugging nuts into her sopping snatch, the way he had her 
mouth, but straining toward that lewd goal pulled back the rubbery outer skin of his pecker 
until it tugged tautly at the frenum attaching the skin to the undersurface of his 
blood-engorged glans; and the additional pressure on this, the most sensitive area of his 
entire organ, tripped the lever of orgasmic release for him.

"OONG, OONG, OONGGG!!!" he grunted with groaning urgency into his mother's 
ravenously suctioning oral cavern, as his ferally pulsating peter twitched out of control.

The denuded purplish head of his deliciously aching rod expanded to the limit, then 
deflated slightly as a sluggish jet of seminal cream bubbled joyously from the tiny pink-lipped 
mouth at the tip of his taut-skinned bulb. His mother's writhing motions caused it to smear 
like sticky white glue over the reddish walls of her silky sheath at the depth of five inches 
inside her because of the way their pubic mounds were so tightly compressed together.

Harriet clung to his fatty asscheeks, pressing down on them to hold his throbbing cock as 
deeply as possible in her responsively fluttering cunt, while together they rode out the 
spine-tingling ecstasy of their mutual cumming, both of them sucking air gaspingly through 
their noses, moaning, whimpering and sobbing brokenly into one another's mouths, their 
bodies jerking spastically as the flesh-quaking tremors of sheer incestuous bliss rumbled 
through them like thunderheads through a stormy sky.

"Oh, Regan, that was wonderful, beautiful, so satisfying!" Harriet said as they lazed in the 
dreamy afterglow of their forbidden lovemaking. "You're Mother's little lover for sure now. 
When we get home, we'll go on sleeping together this way... at least until Daddy comes home.
After that, well, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"Maybe Daddy won't come home." "What?"
"I hope he don't," Regan said with childishly brutal honesty. "Regan!" Harriet gasped. "What a 
horrible thing to say!"
His face turned red. He said he was sorry but Harriet knew he wasn't. If he was sorry for 
anything, it was for putting his thoughts into words, not for the thought itself. She and Regan 
had always been much closer than Regan had been with his father. When Regan was a baby, 
Curt hadn't been able to hide the resentment he felt at sharing her affections, even with his 
own son. Over the years the situation had reversed itself, Curt accepting his son completely 
while Regan began showing jealousy over any extra attention Harriet paid to his dad. Now 
Curt was out of the
picture. Regan had her all to himself. So far as his twelve-year-old mentality was concerned, 
he'd at last replaced his father in every way.

Regan wants me all to himself, Harriet thought, and she shivered, for it was a chilling 
realization when she added the rest of it, Even to the point of wishing his own father DEAD!

She didn't know whether to slap Regan's selfish face or burst out crying. As it happened, 
she did neither. After staring at him in utter incredulity for a tortured moment that seemed 
like an eternity, die got up without a word and put on her quilted robe. Stunned to the core, 
feeling as if she'd created some kind of miniature monster, she let herself out of the bedroom,
staggered across the hall and entered the bathroom to take her morning shower. But the 
peppering hot spray from the hissing showerhead failed to revive her. Her mind was still 
awhirl as she toweled herself dry, and her body felt numb.

"What's the matter, honey?" Harriet's mother asked concernedly, later that day. "It's 
Christmas and you're acting like a whipped dog. You're not coming down with the flu, I hope."

Harriet shook her head, forced a weak smile. "Then you must be thinking of Curt." "Yes, 
Mother."
"I shouldn't have said anything. I could bite my tongue."

"It's all right," Harriet said. "I'll be okay. I didn't get much rest last night. I'm not used to 
sleeping with a wiggle worm. If it's all right with you, I'll sleep on the couch tonight."

Mary and Steve left the next day. They all went to the airport to see them off. While they 
were waiting for the plane, Mary took Harriet's arm and guided her into the ladies' room.

"Maybe it's none of my business, Sis," Mary said. "But I guess you heard Steve and I balling
the night before last?"

Harriet lowered her eyes, blushing, and nodded. "I thought so," Mary said worriedly. "We 
heard you and Regan, too."

"Ohmygod! " Harriet gasped, horrified.

"Don't get shook," Mary said. "I'm sure Mom and Dad didn't hear you. I wouldn't have said
anything, but Steve thought I should because we feel sort of responsible for it. It was the first 
time with you and Regan, wasn't it?"

Harriet blinked and Mary mistook it for an affirmative reply.

"I thought so," she said. "That's what's been making you so miserable, right?" "I feel so 
ashamed," Harriet muttered.
"Look, Sis, would it help any to know you're not the first, and probably won't be the last, 
woman to ever slip that way with her kid? It's Steve and his mother I'm talking about. They 
screwed one another from the time he was in grade school until a couple of years ago when 
she finally remarried. She was a divorcee all that time. For all I know, they still may be balling 
on the sly. I know you're in a state of shock. I'm kind of staggered myself. Steve didn't tell me 
this until last night, after you made yourself a bed on the couch. But what I'm getting at is, 
what the
hell, it didn't seem to hurt Steve or his old lady, and if knowing about them helps you in any 
way then I'm glad he told me so I could tell you. I'm not condemning, you understand? I'm 
trying to help. Like, who the shit knows what's right and wrong any more, anyway? 'If it feels 
good, do it.' That's a line from a song. And why not? And besides, Regan is a cute little 
bugger. I can't really blame you for weakening, the way things turned out so shitty for you. 
You know what I mean, with Curt missing and all. Will you try to cheer up, damn it? The world 
didn't come to an end, you know. You'll still alive and we all love you."

The right comer of Harriet's mouth twitched spasmodically. Tears filled her eyes, blurring 
her vision. She blinked rapidly, then sobbed from deep in her chest and flung her arms around
her understanding younger sister.

"That's the way, Sis," Mary soothed, hugging Harriet, patting her heaving back. "Go ahead 
and cry. Let it all hang out. It'll do you good. You're seeing me off. Maybe everyone will think 
you're bawling over that."

And, sure enough, they did.

Harriet slept alone in Mary's squeaky bed that night, and for the remainder of the holiday 
visit with her folks. She did a lot of thinking about what Mary had said as she lay staring up at 
the darkened ceiling each night, waiting for sleep to come.

By the time she and Regan boarded the plane on New Year's Day, waving good-bye to her 
parents, Harriet was pretty much her old self again. She was eager to get home to the house 
she and Curt were buying in San Rafael. They'd both fallen in love with the Northern California
town, and planned to live there permanently after Curt retired from the air force.

She was still saddened by Regan's callous attitude toward Curt, but she realized now that 
she'd overreacted to his remark. He was only a little boy, after all. She could still straighten out
his thinking, and she meant to do it, too.

CHAPTER EIGHT

"Mom, I didn't mean it," Regan said, his upper lip quivering. Tears spilled from his eyes. 
He'd been back in school four days. It was Friday night, nearly bedtime, and for the past 
couple of hours he'd been staring at his father's photograph after having moped around in a 
state of confused sadness all week. "Honest I didn't!"

Harriet said nothing. During the plane ride home, she'd begun speaking of Curt, praising 
him, trying to make Regan understand that although she loved them both, Regan was her 
little boy and Curt was her husband, and that so long as there was any chance of Curt being 
alive, he was and would remain the number one man in her life. Once home, she'd kept 
pouring it on.

"I love Daddy too, Mom. I want him to come home. I've started praying for it. I'm sorry for 
what I said!"

Ashamed of himself, Regan burst into tears.

It' was enough. Regan had told her again and again that he was sorry for what he'd said, 
because he knew that's what she wanted to hear, but this was the first time he'd cried over it. 
Each time before, he'd attempted to approach her sexually afterwards. This time he didn't. He 
just sat there on the couch, looking miserable, crying, his eyes downcast. This time he meant 
it.

For perhaps fifteen minutes, Harriet let him cry. Then she got up from her chair and went 
to him. She sat down beside him and took him in her loving mother's arms.
He cried all the harder. She drew his head down onto her shoulder and stroked his hair 
soothingly. The closeness of their bodies, the warmth of his as it jerked sobbingly, made her 
want him in a way that had nothing to do with her being his mother.

"It's all right now, sweetheart," she said. "I know you love Daddy. Mother forgives you for 
what you said."

Fermentations of arousal bubbled within her loins. Wanting to get his thinking 
straightened out first, she hadn't been letting him sleep with her as she'd told him she would 
when they were back home again. Now that he'd come around, she hungered for him more 
than ever. Her desire for more of the incredible sweetness of their incestuous lovemaking was 
stronger than her sense of decency. Her conscience stabbed guilt into her troubled heart, 
reminding her it was her duty to remain faithful to Curt for so long as he might be alive, 
rebuking her severely for continuing to lust after the son Curt had given her, warning her to 
forget what had happened, leave well enough alone and pray to God for the strength to resist
temptation in the future. But praying wasn't what she felt like doing.

Put your hand between my legs, Regan, she felt like saying. Play with Mother's pussy. Tell 
me you want to fuck me!

But he didn't. His crying went on for almost a half hour. When finally it ceased, her quilted 
robe felt wet against her shoulder.

She patted his back. "It's time for bed. Go brush your teeth, dear."

Obediently he rose and shuffled across the room. He disappeared down the hallway.

Harriet remained seated on the couch, tense, hungry for sex, feeling guilty and indecisive. 
Come back in here, damn it, a voice within her cried, the voice of the other Harriet, the 
sensual, sinning part of her personality that'd been awakened and now refused to be put back
to sleep. Ask to sleep with me tonight, Regan.
You've been begging me all week to let you. You won't have to beg tonight. Just ask!

"Night-night, Mom," Regan called from the hallway. "Aren't you going to kiss me good 
night?"
His eyes swollen and red-rimmed from crying, he reentered the living room. When he pecked 
her pursed lips timidly, his breath smelled of toothpaste, clean and fresh.

Harriet clasped his blond head. She pressed her lips more firmly against his. Holding him 
in his awkward, leaned-over-her position, she probed the tip of her tongue between his lips 
and teased it back and forth. His mouth opened slowly, unsurely, and she fed her tongue into 
its warm, mint-flavored sweetness. He accepted her tongue but seemed reluctant to suck it.

There was puzzlement in his blue eyes when Harriet broke the kiss. "What's the matter?" 
she asked.

A diffident smile tugged at the comers of his mouth. He shrugged. "Do you want to sleep 
with me?"
His smile brightened. He nodded.

"You didn't ask to tonight. I thought maybe you didn't want to."
"I want to. But I thought you didn't." "I do. God help me, but I do."
"Can we fuck?" "Yes."
"Will you suck my cock?" "I want to."
"Come on," he said, straightening up, his eyes gleaming with eagerness as the front of his 
trousers grew a bulge. "Let's go to bed."

Regan took his mother's hand and helped her up. The house was already locked up for the
night. They turned off the lights and went down the hall together, into the bedroom Harriet 
had shared with Curt until he was sent overseas.

In the lighted bedroom, Harriet unbuttoned her robe and took it off with Regan watching 
her. How can something so wrong seem so right? she wondered guiltily, as she folded her 
robe and laid it on the dresser. He was ready to go back to the way things were before. Why 
am I doing this? God in heaven, what's wrong with me?

It'd been an accident the first time. On the couch that Sunday afternoon, she'd been 
drunk. At her parents she'd been tipsy, and inadvertently aroused by the sounds of Mary and 
Steve making love; but she'd had no excuse for what had happened the following morning. 
And now? Now she felt depraved, excitedly so, and could hardly wait to have her son take his 
father's place between her legs. It gave her a lascivious charge to undress in front of Regan 
this way, in the intimacy of her bedroom. She knew full well she was corrupting him beyond 
repair, her own child, leading him into the ways of wickedness even as she herself succumbed 
to the Devil's urgings after a lifetime of proper living. And it was delicious, this forbidden fruit 
they called incest and made laws against, both Men and God.

She stepped out of her house slippers. Her red-lacquered fingernails disappeared beneath 
the hem of her shortie nightgown as she caught the bottom of the wispy nylon garment and 
whisked it off over her head, mussing the loose curls of her shag-cut brunette hair. Carelessly 
she tossed the nightie on top of her discarded robe.

"Mother's feeling very sexy tonight," Harriet intoned as, clad in only a pair of white panties 
with black lace trimming the leg bands, she turned toward Regan and gave him a sultry smile. 
"Do you want to take my underpants off me?"

He nodded, bug-eyed, as she padded barefoot toward him, her coral-tipped breasts 
jiggling enticingly. "You're pretty, Mom."

"Why, thank you, dear," she said. Noticing his gaze, she stopped a couple of feet in front 
of him. Her hands touched her bare midriff, glided upward and cupped her breasts from 
below, lifting them slightly. Absently her thumbs flicked the bud-like protuberances at the tips
of her crinkled areolas. "Do you like my titties?"

"Yeah."

"Daddy likes them, too. He says they're just the right size, not too big and not too small. 
You used to nurse them when you were a baby. Would you like to suck Mother's nipples 
tonight?"
"I think I do want to."

Harriet smiled sensually as she stood before him fondling the firm/soft orbs of her 
milk-white boobs, through the translucent skin of which a faint crisscrossing of bluish veins 
resembling lines on a road map could be seen. "Of course you do. We want to do lots of 
lovely things tonight, don't we, Son?"

"Durn right."

She chuckled throatily. "Take off my panties, you sweet thing."

I ought to have my head examined, she thought, shivering with expectation as Regan's 
pudgy hands worked her nylon briefs over the flare of her hips.

His mother's indented belly button popped into view. Because of the way Regan was 
thinking, it looked to him like a bald, miniature pussy, what with its oblong, squinty shape, 
only it ran sideways instead of up and down. There was a pink ring around her middle, where 
the elastic waistband of her panties had been biting into her skin. Her abdomen was almost 
flat, but as he inched her undergarment lower it swelled slightly. Her skin shone like dull satin. 
With his face close, as it was now, he noticed that her tummy wasn't completely devoid of hair,
after all. There were thousands of hairs on it, only they were so short and fine, nearly the color 
of her flesh, that he had to look real close in order to see them at all, even with the light 
reflecting off them.

Gradually he drew her panties down, his hands trembling with emotion. Zigzaggy white 
lines streaked each side of her belly; He paused, touched them curiously.

"Those are stretch marks, dear," she said, anticipating his question. "All women get them 
after they have a baby. Those are the marks you left on me, when you were growing in my 
stomach."

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding awed.

"Oh, no, don't be. Those are love marks, dear. I'm proud of them." Impulsively Regan 
kissed the stretch marks, and she sighed, "Oh, precious."

He tugged her step-ins lower. Her oblique appendectomy scar caught his attention. One 
of his friends had one, so he knew what it was without having to ask. He touched it, traced it 
with a fingertip.

"You're not in any hurry, are you?"

Her voice had a purring tone. He shook his head. There was no need to hurry. Tomorrow 
was Saturday, no school. They generally slept late, unless they had something special to do. 
Their something special-no, extra special-was now, tonight.

"I'm your little lover again now, huh, Mom?" "You sure are. You're taking Daddy's place."
He glanced up at her, beaming happily at what she'd said. "But we both love Daddy." "Yes, 
very much."
"And we want him to come home."
"Yes, Son, soon."

"Can I still fuck you when he does?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Well have to wait and see, okay?" "Okay."
Regan pulled her nylon briefs lower. The top of her dark triangle came into view. His 
excitement soared. He jerked her panties lower, halfway down her thighs, and took a good 
look at her hairy snatch. The hair in the center of her clefted mound curled inward. It was 
stuck to her puffy opening, shining wetly.

"You're gettin' slick, Mom."

"I'm leaking love juice. You're making me hot." He could smell her now, the faint sweetness
of her perfumed dusting powder, the stronger odor of musk. "Your pussy smells good." He 
had the strangest urge to kiss her right between the legs, but he wasn't sure if he ought to, 
and besides, she might not like it. Instead, he rubbed his cheek against her mons veneris. The 
coarse hair felt scratchy but exciting to his skin, and the pungent aroma wafting into his 
nostrils made him feel a little dizzy.

"Oh, Regan," she sighed. "You don't know what that does to me. You'd better stop, honey."
But she had him by the head, holding him and she began wriggling about, rubbing her hairy 
mound against the side of his face. It made his dizziness worse. He could hear a buzzing noise,
as if one bee, then two, four, eight, sixteen, a whole swarm, were circling his head.

"Regan? What are you doing? Ooooh!"

He was turning his head, squatting lower, working his chin between her legs. "Honey, no... 
nooh!" she whined. "You mustn't!"
But she was guiding his head, spreading her legs for him, saying no but meaning yes. He 
kissed her cunt.

"Ooouuu!" she cried, shivering with lewd pleasure. She could feel his lips moving lower. 
She tilted her pelvis, standing spraddle-legged, and presented her crotch to his mouth. It was 
terribly wicked of her, but the idea was his not hers. Suddenly his lips were pressing against 
her fluted portal, the tip of his nose nuzzling into the inverted V at the top. Harriet felt faint. 
You slut! her conscience railed. How can you pervert your own son this way?! But he was 
kissing her snatch again and again, avidly licking into it, and nothing had ever felt so sinfully 
sublime! Aloud she rasped, "OH, GOD! IT MUST BE NORMAL! AT LEAST NATURAL! NO ONE 
TAUGHT YOU TO... AAAHH... DO THIS, DID THEY?"

He shook his head, his face buried in her bush, and kept kissing and licking, kissing and 
licking. He was only twelve, but a natural-born muff-diver and acting entirely on instinct. Once
he'd licked into her succulent split, he couldn't stop. It tasted even better than it smelled. He 
loved it, that mysterious hole between his mother's legs. He'd come out of it, and now, all of a 
sudden, he wished he could crawl back up into her belly, headfirst!

"GOOD CHRIST!" Harriet gasped, standing there beside the bed with her legs apart, her 
panties stretched between her shaky knees, her head hanging down and her pelvis thrust 
forward and up so her squatting child could suck her tingling snatch. "YOU LOVE IT... DON'T 
YOU? MOTHER'S STINKING PUSSY?"
"MMMMM!" came his muffled reply, and he nodded almost imperceptibly, sucking now, 
probing his tongue far as it would go into her juicy crack. What was she talking about? Her 
pussy didn't stink. It smelled wonderful!

"THEN SUCK IT, YOU LITTLE CUNTLAPPER! " she squealed with vulgar delight, abandoning 
herself to the obscene joy of being sucked off by her young child. "THAT'S WHAT YOU ARE 
NOW, REGAN! MY CUNTLAPPER! AND MOTHER'S YOUR... OOOOHH... COCKSUCKER! IT'S 
NASTY BUT... AAAHHH... SOO NICE! EAT ME! EAT ME UUPPP!!!"

Getting carried away, Harriet buried her fingers in the corn-silk hair of her squatting son 
and tried to stuff him into her gaping gash clear up to his Her nipples stood out like hard little
berries at the points of her tumescent tits. The muscles in her fluttering abdomen rippled 
beneath her creamy skin. Her asscheeks quivered, tensing and relaxing, as she revolved her 
hips ruttishly, feeding him cunt, rubbing it at his face.

Regan also got carried away. He flung his arms around her legs and sucked her snatch 
hungrily for what it was-the best-tasting thing he'd ever found!
Miraculously, he didn't bite her, or even scrape her with his teeth, for he dearly loved her hairy
hole and didn't want to harm it in any way.

The familiar tingling sensations began in her upper thighs and lower belly, rolling waves of
pre-orgasmic pleasure that swiftly converged in her sweltering loins.

"AHH, GOD, SUCK IT, SUCK IT!" she moaned, her eyes wild and glassy as she threw back 
her head. "NNNAAAHHH... I'M CUMMING... NOW, NOW... CCCUUUMMMMIIIINNNNNGGG!!!"

The nerve-laden head of her elongated clitoris, which she'd been flicking from side to side 
across the hard bridge of Regan's nose, throbbed rhythmically as it pulled back jerkily into the
apex of her spastically twitching elliptical orifice.

"UUUUUNNNNN... UUUUNNNN... OOOOUUUUUU!!!!! " Her vagina clamped together, 
forcing the buildup of cunt-honey down the velvety barrel of her fluttering tunnel. The viscous
woman-goo blasted open the hair-rimmed gates of bloodengorged femininity, and gushed 
into Regan's open mouth.

For a split second, the inexperienced lad was startled by the sudden surge of sticky 
wetness. The flavor of his mother's sexual secretions required no getting used to, however. 
Regan liked the distinctive taste right off. The flowing substance she'd ejected into his mouth 
had the consistency of a thin milkshake, only it was hot not cold and had a pungency that 
overrode the natural sweetness of it.

"MMMM!" he moaned in surprised delight, and swallowed the big mouthful of female fuck
juices she'd given him.

"HARDER... SUCK HARDER!" she husked, her legs shaking as she held his head trapped 
between them, his face, the lower half of it at least, hidden by her pleasured crotch. She 
blinked up at the ceiling. "AAAAA-GGGAAAHHHHHH!!! " More of that yummy stuff was 
trickling out of her, and Regan wanted every drop she could give him. He grabbed the 
side-indented globes of her tensed buttocks and sucked her dribbling twat like a little fiend.

"OHJESUSGOD! " Harriet exclaimed, fearing she might piss all over him, it felt so 
impossibly good. But her loins were congested with blood, her urethra pinched tightly shut, 
and she couldn't have passed water at that moment if her life had depended on it. 
"NNNAAAHHH... OOOOHHHH... AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!! " No cum had ever been better than 
the one her little boy was now giving her with his innocent young
mouth. Her legs turned to rubber. Her knees threatened to buckle. She sobbed hoarsely, 
shuddered helplessly.

"I TH-THOUGHT I WAS... GOING TO... PA-PASS OUT... IT WAS SO GO-GOOD!" she gasped,
toppling sideways while she was still in the final throes of her orally induced climax, letting the
bed catch her as she collapsed following the peak of her intense orgasmic pleasure, her 
saliva-and secretion-wetted crack twitching weakly as the bliss of cumming ebbed slowly.

His face gleaming wetly from the middle of his nose clear down to his chin, his cheeks 
ringed with Harriet's fluids, Regan stood up cockily, proudly, and dragged his mother's 
panties, which had slid down around her trim ankles, the rest of the way off.

"I sucked you good, didn't I?" he asked.

"Lord yes, you did, you little bugger! You made me cum like everything! " "Did Daddy do 
that to you?"
"Sometimes. Not very often. But he never brought me off the way you just did. I loved it. Oh, 
precious, hurry and get undressed, so Mother can suck your sweet cock for you!"

CHAPTER NINE

Regan got undressed in record time. He hadn't been in a hurry earlier, but he was now. 
Sucking and tonguing his mother's hairy hole, with his head between her legs and his face 
pressed to her crotch, had affected him like wow! His peter throbbed urgently. It was so hard 
it hurt. His immature balls were drawn up tight against his body, quivering with readiness. He 
remembered standing in the bathroom while his mother sat on the toilet, sucking his dick. It'd
been terrific, unbelievably good. Now she wanted to suck it again, and he could hardly wait to 
feel her warm wet mouth closing around his sensitive rod.

She had the covers turned back. There was a come-hither smile on her face, a hungry 
gleam in her eyes. Her gaze was riveted to his upstanding organ as he stepped up beside the 
bed, naked as she was now, his clothes scattered carelessly about the floor.

"It's so pretty," she sighed longingly, kicking the covers down farther and patting the 
space beside her, inviting him to get into bed with her, the bed in which she'd slept with his 
father.

Absently her tonguetip traced the oval opening of her soft red lips. "Hurry, baby. Lie down 
with me. That handsome fellow's standing at rigid attention for me, and I want to smother him
with kisses! " The kid dove into bed, his plump body bouncing the mattress and squeaking the
box springs.

"Kiss me, Son!"

He kissed her with open-mouthed urgency and stuck his tongue full into her receptive oral
cavity. Her hands were all over him, soft, smooth and surprisingly cool. Avidly she sucked his 
tongue, caressing it with her own, as her hand found and fondled his rampant erection.

"Mother's little lover," she crooned, jacking him off, smiling at him with their faces only 
inches apart, her eyes smoldering as they gazed lovingly into his. "So sweet! So incredibly 
sweet! Lord help us, because we can't help ourselves, can we,
sugar?"

Regan grinned. He nodded agreement even though he didn't fully understand what she 
was talking about. Help ourselves? he thought. That's what we're doing, Mom! It's great! 
Couldn't be better!

"Suck it! Come on, Mom!" "Lie back," she told him.
He did. She knelt beside him, her tits hanging down. Her lips covered his entirely as she kissed
him passionately, snaking her tongue into his mouth. It tasted sweet. He sucked the saliva off 
it.

Harriet kissed and licked her way down his neck, across his shoulders and over his chest, 
which was as hairless as her own, with feverish, creamy-textured skin.
Because of his plumpness, he had cute titties about the size of the budding breasts on little 
girls of his age, with tiny but pouting pink nipples. Harriet caught one between her lips, 
sucked it stretchingly and tickled the little rounded end with the tip of her tongue.

"Oouuu!" Regan whimpered. "Does that feel good?"
"Yeah... sort of," he admitted sheepishly. "But, Mom, you shouldn't do that. I'm a boy!"

"Nipples are nipples," she told him, being well read if not widely practiced on the subject 
of sex. "Some men's are sensitive as any woman's, and it's nothing to be ashamed of. Besides, 
not all women's nipples are as sensitive as most men like to think. If it feels good, do it," 
Harriet said, recalling the line from her sister's helpful conversation in the ladies' room of the 
airport.

With that, she captured Regan's saliva-moistened nipple between her teeth and, working 
her lower jaw, began rolling it gently back and forth, flicking the end of it with her tongue. The
erectile tissue crinkled and pulled itself from her mouth, with Regan whimpering, squirming, 
obviously enjoying it despite his reluctance to be treated in a way that he apparently 
considered girlish or sissy or both.

Undaunted, having herself a ball now that she'd accepted her son as a lover, Harriet licked 
across his chest, leaving a trail of saliva, and gave his other nipple the same type of titillating 
treatment. Regan relaxed and let her have her mischievous way. She knew it felt good to him, 
for his excitement grew swiftly.

She opened her mouth wide and took in the entire titty, kneading it lightly with her teeth 
as she sucked harshly. It reminded her of an old saying-Chewing the fat. This struck her as 
amusing, but she was feeling much too licentious to laugh. In this case, the saying was true, 
however, and had nothing to do with idle conversation, because fat is all Regan's cute little 
mounds were composed of. He had no breasts, as such. When he started thinning down, and 
filling out with muscles, he would lose the darling little protuberances altogether and his chest
would become hard and hairy like his father's. But he had them now, small and sweet, and 
they fascinated Harriet. She gave up the one she'd orally engulfed and moved back to the 
other.

His nipple was no longer tumescent, having been denied the continuing stimulation of her
lips and tongue. She began playfully nipping the tender cone with her teeth.
"Ohh... unn!" Regan uttered involuntarily. "Am I hurting you, precious?" "Good!" he whined. "It
hu-hurts good!"
"Oh?" she said, her eyes twinkling impishly as she glanced up at his pleasured visage. "It does, 
huh? Then I'll keep it up."

Back and forth she went, from titty to titty, nipping gleefully at his tender pink nipples, 
making him squirm and gasp and cry out again and again. When she had him begging for 
mercy, saying that he liked it but couldn't take it any more, she clamped a nipple vise-like 
between her teeth and began applying pressure gradually.

"OOOH!" came the breathy sound of pain/pleasure which she evoked from deep in his 
throat.

She could feel him shivering. His hands grasped her head, held it where it was. There was 
no doubt in her mind, he loved this, just as she would've if it'd been her nipple and his teeth. 
Her hand stroked down his abdomen in a spiraling motion, searching for and finding the 
turgid shaft of appealing boy-meat standing at a forty-five degree angle above his quivering 
tummy. Her fingers enclosed it.
Simultaneously she squeezed down on his granite-like stem and increased the pressure on his
teeth-entrapped nipple.

"U UUUNNNN!" he moaned, and began shuddering. "HARDER! BITE IT, BITE ITTTT!!!" 
Harriet bit harder, slowly sinking the sharp edges of her white teeth into the pink resiliency of 
his erogenous flesh.

"NNNNAAAAHHHH! " Regan cried. His pudgy little boy's fingers entangled with her 
brunette hair. He held her head, whimpering piteously, and began hunching her hand.

Intuitively she realized his moment had arrived. She'd given him just the right amount of 
painless wouldn't've been enough to do the trick and more would've pushed him past the 
plateau of his exquisite pleasure. She'd not intended to bring him off this way, hadn't known it
would be possible to do so. But he was about to cum, no denying that, and his condition of 
ecstatic helplessness made Harriet's passion soar. She maintained the almost punishing 
pressure on his tender nipple and began rolling it between her teeth, at the same time 
holding his prick tightly, letting him fuck her fist. "MOM... OHH, OHH... AAAHH!"

His penis pulsed faster, harder, his hips pumping frantically to keep it shuttling rapid-fire 
back and forth through her gripping hand. This called for precise timing on Harriet's part. If 
she stopped biting his nipple too soon, she feared his imminent orgasm wouldn't materialize; 
if she bit it too long, she wouldn't be able to swing around and take his fat dick in her mouth 
quick enough. A split second before he popped his darling young nuts, that's when she would
make her move.

"OHH, OHH!" he groaned. "UUUNNN!!!"

Now, now! she screamed silently, but it was too late, she'd dallied too long at his nipple, 
for when she released it and dove toward his groin, he was going: "UNG, UNG, UUNNGGG!!! " 
And the precocious white substance she so desperately wanted in her oral chamber was 
already jetting from the rosy-red glans of his skinned-back, fist-penetrating peter, arcing 
through the air and raining wastefully upon his heaving, rotund little tummy.

"SHIT!" Harriet whined and, without wasting any more valuable time, she took the 
cum-spurting cockhead into her mouth.

Her lips bumped the front of her shaft-encompassing hand. They tightened like
drawstrings behind his tufted coronal ridge. She sucked down hungrily on the flavorful bulb, 
whipping it with her tongue, greedily vacuuming the remaining drops of sexual liquid up from
the purity of his untainted young loins, using his pecker like a straw to suck it out of him.

"AAAAHHHHHH!!!" he trilled in rapture.

There wasn't much left in him. His developing prostate gland had already pumped the 
bulk of his built-up-but-still-boyishly-small load up from his quivering, hairless testicles. But 
what there was delighted Harriet's mature palate and set her discerning taste buds to tingling 
appreciatively, for his preteen seminal fluid had a delicate flavor that was indescribably 
delicious. Ambrosia, that's what it was!
Nectar fit for Aphrodite herself, the goddess of Love!

Still sucking, Harriet drew back her head. Her lips clung to the purplish knob. They 
distended out from her face and effected a wet slurping noise that rang luridly in her ears as 
they finally lost the rounded forefront of his pulsating glans.

"THAT WAS... OOOUUU... GREAT!" Regan moaned, as she released his weakly twitching 
stem.

Harriet whimpered mournfully as she surveyed the child's rounded tummy. Some of his 
whitish ejaculate lay in a jiggling pool. More of it streaked his skin. Trickles ran sluggishly from 
the pool, oozing both ways toward his hipbones.

"OH, JESUS!" she rasped, and licked her lips longingly.

His stuff was absolutely scrumptious. She couldn't let it go to waste. Slavishly she lowered 
her head, stuck out her insatiable tongue and, feeling like a shameless scavenger who'd found
a feast, she began lapping the priceless jism off Regan's abdomen, her tongue and lips taking 
it into her sperm-starved mouth and her throat working spasmodically as she gulped it down 
gluttonously.

When again she raised her head, she'd cleaned every speck of her son's spunk off his fatty 
belly, leaving it wet and glistening with a coating of her bubbly spit.

"I'M SO HOT!" she wailed. "BURNING UP!" Her pussy begged for a filling length of 
rampant turgidity. She wanted to be fucked so bad she could taste it.

Returning her attention to his penis, however, she discovered it was in a sorry state of 
semi-softness, practically useless to her so far as the job she had in mind for it was concerned. 
Disappointed, she was, but undeterred. Her carnal craving urged her on to further action. 
Harriet was much too hot and bothered to accept defeat so easily. Getting a fat dick into her 
burning, itching slot was her most pressing desire at this point, the satisfaction of being 
fucked to glorious fulfillment being the only goal upon which her lust-dazed mind could now 
focus.

"GET IT BACK UP, DARLING!" She pleaded whiningly. "MAKE IT NICE AND HARD AGAIN... 
FOR MOTHER!"

Her head hovered hungrily above his loins as she picked up his spent prick between her 
thumb and two fingers. She lowered her head, opening her mouth and guiding the denuded 
head of the leachy organ inside. Her lips locked securely behind the coronal ridge and she 
started sucking and laving the salty-tasting bulb. But her only reward was a few delectable 
droplets of sticky after cum. Regan's pecker was still numb from the intensity of his recent 
orgasm, and it refused to harken to the lustful call of his mother's coaxing lips and curling 
tongue. When the feeling Aid return to his diminished dork, the tumid glans turned 
ultra-sensitive, and his
mother's swabbing tongue felt like a power sander stripping away his skin like a coat of 
unwanted paint.

"STOP, STOP!" he wailed, shoving at her head. "DURN IT, QUIT SUCKIN', MOM! IT'S TOO 
TENDER! I CAN'T TA-TAKE ITTT!!!"

His words didn't register on Harriet. She heard his voice but failed to receive his urgent 
message. The heat of her runaway passion had virtually socked in her brain under a swirling 
blanket of sweltering steam. Intelligent thought was, temporarily, a process she found herself 
incapable of engaging in with any degree of proficiency.

For all intent and purpose the fortyish housewife and mother who'd striven so long to 
remain upon the straight and narrow path of wifely virtue, had no control over herself now. 
Her mind was out of it. Her present functioning was on instinct alone. Like some primitive 
she-creature rising shriekingly in search of a mate from the boiling muck of a steaming 
primordial swamp, the reason for her very existence being to copulate immediately, Harriet's 
raging desire to be impaled with a throbbing phallus drove her on.

Regan had to yank at his mother's hair in order to free his hypersensitive peter from her 
mouth, and yank it he did, for he simply couldn't take it any longer.

"SLU-UUURRRPPP!!! came the lurid report, when her puffy red lips were forced off the 
convex tip of the child's suffering dickhead, letting air rush into the vacuum chamber which 
her mouth had become.

The pain in her scalp was hardly noticeable. She glanced up, blinking. There was a wild, 
glassy look to her eyes. Her expression implored Regan to do something to her!

"COCK!" she husked. "I'VE GOT TO HAVE COCK, COCK, COCK! GET IT UP! FUCK ME QUICK! 
I'LL DIE IF YOU DON'T!"

"I just can't right now, Mom!" he whined apologetically. Then his blue eyes brightened and
a devilish smile washed over his handsome young face. "You could call Bob. I bet he'd come 
right over. Do it! Call him, Mom! I wanna see you suck his big dick again!"

"OHJESUSGOD!" Harriet moaned. "YES, YESSS!!!"

She rolled over, reaching for the bedroom phone. It rested on the nightstand beside the 
bed. She had it in her shaky hand before she realized what she was doing. Even then, she was 
still tempted to dial Bob's number and beg him to come over and give her the fucking she so 
desperately needed.

Bang! she slammed down the phone, the sock of what Regan had suggested having 
brought her part way back to her senses.

"DON'T YOU EVER SUGGEST A SORDID THING LIKE THAT TO ME AGAIN!" she hissed. 
"THIS IS WRONG, WHAT WE'RE DOING, BUT I HAVEN'T SUNK SO LOW AS TO OFFER MYSELF 
FOR GANG- BANGING YET! I'M YOUR MOTHER, GODDAMN IT, NOT SOME CHEAP SLUT... 
AND DON'T YOU EVER FORGET IT, EITHER!"

Regan thought he'd just shit in his nest. Fearing he'd spoiled the good thing they finally 
had going, he apologized profusely. He lied like a dog, swearing that he was mostly just trying
to help her by suggesting Bob.

Although Harriet was momentarily infuriated, she simmered down within a matter of
seconds. She knew Regan was fibbing about his motives, but she couldn't remain angry at the 
naughty boy. He was sweeter than sweet, her own darling son, and besides, she wanted him 
to screw her. A brief rest was all he needed, then his strong young organ would respond to 
her loving ministrations.

Assuring him he was forgiven completely, she pushed open his legs, knelt between them 
and, leaning over, began laving the lax skin bag containing his precious boyish jewels.

This, he liked. "LICK 'EM, BABY!" he said vulgarly, writhing about, drawing up his legs, 
flexing his knees and spreading them wide apart for her. "THAT'S IT...
AAAH... LICK MY BALLS GOOD, YOU COCKSUCKIN' BITCH!"

Harriet was still worked up to a feverish pitch. Despite her warning that she was his mother
not some cheap slut, the obscene manner in which her precocious little boy was addressing 
her gave Harriet a perverted charge. She slithered her tongue beneath his scrotum and 
wagged it back and forth, scrubbing its perspiration- moistened undersurface.

"JEEZ... OH, THAT FEELS GOOD, MOM!" Regan sighed, wriggling his plump rear end 
around. "KEEP IT UP! IT'S WORKIN'! IT'S GETTIN' HARD AGAIN... OOOOH... MY DICK!"

The encouraging news caused Harriet's taste organ to lap at his testes all the more 
eagerly. It was amazing how much control she had over her tongue. Using it like a spoon, she 
scooped up the velvet-skinned sac and drew it into her mouth.

"MMMM!" she sighed, closing her lips around the folds of dangling skin.

The tip of her nose touched the underside of the growing root of his stiffening penis. Her 
lips snuggled up cozily to his groin, the lower one flattening itself against the inch of flesh 
separating his gonads from his anus. Willfully she sucked on his orally engulfed scrotum, 
gently nibbling the small oblong goodies inside it.

He was ungodly sweet. Her own adorable child. She'd given him birth. At one time or 
another during his infancy, there was scarcely an inch of him she hadn't kissed.
Only one tiny part of his entire body, in fact, his puckered pink rectum. Now he was twelve, in 
the first stage of puberty, and sweeter right at this moment than he'd ever been before. It was 
time. That one part of him that she'd never kissed- she was going to do so now! Her heart 
beat wildly just thinking about doing such an abnormal thing but, Christ, she had this sudden 
overwhelming urge to kiss his asshole and she simply couldn't hold herself in check!

He was squirming and sighing, his elastic bag crinkling and shrinking, drawing his oval 
sweetmeats nearer his crotch. Harriet merely relaxed the suction and allowed his balls to slip 
from her lips of their accord.

"OH, PRECIOUS... MY DARLING BABY BOY!" she exclaimed. She noticed that he'd 
completely regained his lost erection. It looked wonderful angling above his tummy. His fat 
dick was just what her dripping twat needed, but it would have to wait a while to get it 
because she had another orifice that wanted another part of him first. "I LOVE YOU TO PIECES!
YOU'RE SO SWEET I COULD EAT YOU ALIVE, BONES, HAIR, TOENAILS AND ALL!"

Abandoning herself to the rampaging lust of her unnatural desire, Harriet shoved his 
knees up to his chest and made him hold them there. Then she stuck out her tongue and, 
darting her head down, started licking slavishly up and down the sweat- sheened, 
musky-smelling, salty-tasting crack of his uplifted ass.

"MMM, MMM!" she gurgled, and worked her face joyously into the saliva-coated cleft
of his plump boyish bottom. Smack, smack, smack!
Her worshipful lips rained passionate wet kisses upon his puckered rectum and the 
surrounding area of crinkled, velvety flesh.

"MOM?" he gasped. "MOM, WH-WHAT ARE YOU DO-IINNGGG?!! "

"KISSING YOUR ADORABLE ASSHOLE!" she informed him, too lost to lust to feel even a 
smidgen of shame over her unspeakably indecent act of insane carnality. "DON'T YOU LIKE 
IT?"

"YEAH, YEAH... I... OOOH... I DOO! BUT THAT'S... SO NASTY! "

"YES, YES, IT IS NASTY... AWFUL OF ME... BUT IT'S NICE, TOO! NASTY BUT NICE! HOLD 
YOUR LEGS UP, HONEY! HELP ME! REACH DOWN HERE AND PULL YOUR BUNS WIDE APART 
FOR MOTHER... SO SHE CAN LICK YOUR... OH GOD... YOUR SWEET AASSS!!!"

Regan had never dreamed his lady-like mother would ever in her life do anything so 
downright vulgar as this. Only dogs did that! But she wanted to, and her lips had felt soft and 
exciting when she'd kissed his pooper. He held his legs where they were, knees touching the 
sides of his chest, and he pulled his buttocks apart with his hands, wide as they would go, and 
held them open for her.

Harriet's brain spun luridly as he presented her with an unobstructed view of his anal 
region. Dear God! she thought fuzzily, I must be going stark raving mad!
That's his asshole winking at me! It's so cute but, my stars, I shouldn't be wanting to lick him 
there!

Shouldn't didn't count at this point, however, because right or wrong, nasty or not, the 
fact of the matter was that she did want to!

Heaving a whimper-like sob, she surrendered unconditionally to her demented urge to 
perform analingus upon the irresistible boy. The moment of decision behind her, Harriet 
suddenly felt deliciously dirty. Casting her scruples to the wind, she thrust her face into the 
smelly gorge of his held-apart rump and, sticking out her tongue, licked right into his 
forbidden nether hole.

"OOOUUU!" Regan sighed, and he shivered with delight at the feel of her warm, wet 
tongue washing lasciviously over his erogenous butthole.

There was no denying the faintly shitty flavor of his rectum itself. Perhaps this should've 
stopped Harriet cold, only it didn't. It turned her on all the more. The slightly soiled condition 
of his anus affected her in exactly the opposite way that she would've considered normal. But 
she wasn't concerned with such a trifling thing as normality at a time like this. It was the very 
sordidness of the act itself that sent the terrific illicit thrill racing zigzag up her arched spine, 
then into her head, where it crackled like a charge of static electricity, searing her brain.

"JESUS!" she cried, the excitement of the moment spurring her on.

Wantonly she scrubbed his anal area with her tongue, using it like a living washcloth until 
he was immaculately clean and her taste buds were drowning in the dark brown flavor of his 
banned butthole.

Even this wasn't enough to satisfy her carnal craving for the most secret of all his private 
parts. Her passion was focused upon this one taboo opening, and for some inexplicable 
reason she suddenly yearned to penetrate it. The mere thought
seemed filthy and depraved, but that only made it all the more appealing to her in her present
frame of mind. She was ready for any and everything. There was nothing she wouldn't do to 
and for him now, and the dirtier the better. That's the way she wanted it. Gutter sex! 
Forbidden sex!

Knowing full well what she was doing, Harriet teased the tip of her tongue into her son's 
puckered pink rectum. An illicit thrill rippled through her as she wormed it insistently into the 
tight, resisting ring. The rubbery aperture yielded grudgingly to her invading taste organ.

"MOM?" Regan gasped, shivering.

She didn't bother to answer. Instead, she probed deeper into his body. His tiny anus 
quivered around her tongue as she inserted it to a depth of perhaps a half inch. Then she 
moaned whimperingly, and gluing her lips to the crinkled skin surrounding the private portal, 
she Frenched it forcefully.

"NNNNAAAAGGGHHHH!!!" he cried in pleasured shock.

Her saliva-lubricated tongue pried open his elastic anal rim and slipped swiftly through it. 
She thrust again, harder than before, and her tongue shot up his asshole. Feeling faint from 
the blatant wickedness of this sordid, unmotherly act, she mashed her lips against his body 
and fed even more tongue up his butt.

"OOOOHHHH!!!" Regan half-moaned, half-sighed, his body shuddering reflexively.

She had her tongue in him deeply as it could possibly go, yet she was trying to drive it 
farther up his anal canal, as if she wanted to lick his belly button from the inside of his plump 
body.

"OOMMM!" Harriet moaned through her nose, and started twirling her extended tongue 
round and around in a circular motion.

A furnace-like heat surrounded her vulgarly exploring tongue, and the tart taste puckered 
her pink pores. She felt dizzy and lightheaded as she willfully lapped at the smooth walls deep
inside his dark tunnel.

My God! she thought, her brain spinning luridly. I've got my tongue up his asshole! And I 
LIKE it! It's such a filthy thing to do! But exciting! So exciting!
Ohjesusgod, how depraved can one woman get?!

She drew back her tongue, took it all the way out of him and began running its tip round 
and around the smooth rim of his erogenous, slightly dilated orifice.

"OOOH... AAAH!" Regan sighed, holding his buns wide apart. It felt marvelous, what she 
was doing to him. "LICK IT, LICK IT!" he whined. "MY POOPER! OHHH... OH, MMOOMMM!!!" 
His pleasured outcries rang her chimes. Harriet speared her tongue into him again. She 
started fucking him with it, jabbing it in and out as if his butthole were a pussy and her tongue
a prick.

Her heart thumped against her heaving ribcage. It sounded like twin tom-toms in her 
temples. There was a churning sensation in her loins. Her snatch dribbled copiously. Silvery 
strings of woman-goo stretched down between her thighs, breaking, falling to the bed and 
adding to the growing pool of viscous secretions between her knees faster than the sheet 
could soak it up. Her cunt felt as if it were literally on fire. She groped Regan's erection. It was 
hard as a bone, longer and fatter than ever it had been. She had to have it! Now! Buried in her
pussy!

"UUMMM!" she mewled, backing her tongue from his musky shit chute.
SMACK!

She kissed his asshole good-bye, then up came her head.

"LET'S FUCK!" she shrilled and, grabbing his ankles, she yanked his legs down on each side
of her.

With her hair disheveled and her eyes wild and glassy-looking, Harriet appeared 
demented, and that's the way she felt, too. Only it was glorious, not frightening. Her 
inhibitions were obliterated. Wifely virtue was a thing of the past. She'd sunk from the decency
of American motherhood into the muck of sinful carnality, was mired in it and, like the 
incestuous she-bitch she'd become, wanted nothing more than to remain bogged down this 
way forever, so she and her irresistible young son could wallow ecstatically in the sinful 
pleasures of the flesh for now and ever more.

Like a hungry tigress she pounced upon the little boy, as if she meant to eat him alive. But 
her appetite for oral perversions was quite satisfied for the moment, and she only kissed him 
wetly, sloppily. When Regan accepted her assy-tasting tongue and started sucking it of his 
own free will, Harriet realized he didn't suffer her hangups and thought none the less of her 
for loving his asshole with her mouth.

"OH, BABY, BABY!" she husked, sitting up, straddling him on her knees. "I'M GOING TO SIT 
ON YOUR PRETTY PETER! JUST HOLD STILL FOR ME! LET MOTHER FUCK YOU THIS TIME!"

Anything Mom said was aces with Regan.

Harriet took the object of her lustful desire in her hot, trembling hand. She peeled back 
the foreskin, pulled it up straight as a flagpole and aimed the denuded glans at the slot of her 
hovering, secretion-drooling pussy.

Wriggling, she lowered herself to it and wedged the purplish-hued knob between the 
coral flanges of her swollen, hair-fringed labia majora.

"AAAH!" she sighed, as the bluntly rounded end of the taut-skinned bulb parted her pussy
petals' slipping easily into the vestibule of her well-lubricated sex.

"OOOUUU!" she whimpered, her face mirroring her pleasure as she descended further, 
making the cockhead disappear inside her, shivering with delight when its flared coronal ridge
popped thrillingly through the tight ring of her more sensitive inner labia.

Her fluted entrance fluttered submissively around his shaft as its bloated dome entered 
the lower section of her vagina itself. She released his dong, moved her hand out of the way 
and let herself down onto him slowly and luxuriously, savoring to the fullest the voluptuous 
sensations of her gradual and willful impalement upon the fat dick of her reclining son. Her 
hungry hot snatch swallowed him gluttonously, inch by delicious turgid inch until, at last, the 
hairy maw of her woman-hole settled with intimate firmness around the flared base of his 
youthful member.

"AAA-GOD, IT'S GOOD!" she sighed huskily. "INSIDE ME!"

In this position, sitting astride him, her penile receptacle was appreciably shorter than had 
she been lying on her back. Though his pecker was no bigger than before-with the exception 
of being slightly more blood-engorged than usual-it felt
to Harriet as if it had grown in length. To her astonishment and utter delight, she could feel 
the tip of his hard-rubber dome actually touching the tender neck of her pear-shaped uterus.

"JESUS!" she gasped, squirming about in an exploratory fashion, pressing down until her 
outer labia were mashed flat against Regan's hairless pubic mound, thereby forcing another 
half inch or so of his penile root into her. "IT'S TOUCHING... MY WOMB... OHHHH... THAT'S 
LOVELY... LLOOVVEE-LY!"

She leaned forward, stiff-armed, and braced herself with her hands on his chest. Testingly 
she rotated her hips in a tight circle. Her hairy opening revolved hoop- like around the base of
Regan's stem, while deep in her belly the bulbous glans swabbed maddeningly round and 
around the protruding surfaces of her nerve-rich cervix.

"WOW!" Regan exclaimed, his expression evincing pleasured awe.

Harriet abandoned the rotating motions and replaced them with a front-to-rear rocking of
her hips.

"GOOD CHRIST!" she sobbed. "CAN YOU FEEL THAT? THE MOUTH OF... AAHHH...

MOTHER'S WOMB... FLICKING AT THE HEAD OF YOUR DICK LIKE THIS?" She reached up 
with
her left hand and flicked the tip of his nose with the ball of her index finger. "YEAH! I SURE 
CAN!" he chirped. "IT FE-FEELS GOOD, TOO!"
"LORD YES, IT DOES!" she agreed wholeheartedly, keeping it up.

Divine! That's how it felt to Harriet. Not only was the mouth of her womb receiving 
additional stimulation as a result of the deep penetration and the to-and-fro rocking of her 
hips, but the raw-nerved head of her inflamed, fully erected clitoris was being brushed with 
firm rapidity against the bumpy, bone-like center ridge of Regan's flared penile root.

"I'M ABOUT TO... CUM OFF ALREADY!" she whined, her expression changing as the familiar
tingling sensations began in her thighs and belly.

She speeded up the tempo. The muscles in her back and abdomen worked together, 
jerking her hips back and forth with Regan's blood-filled rod all the way in her, her hairy 
cuntlips rubbing all slick and scratchy against the sides of the boy's fatty pubis.

"OHH, OHH, OHH!" she chanted, gripping his sides as she rode him, her eyes narrowing 
down to mere slits and her mouth hanging open.

"HOT DAMN!" Regan squealed excitedly. "GO, MOM! YOU OUGHTTA SEE YOUR FACE! 
AND YOUR TITTIES! LOOK AT 'EM BOUNCE! FUCK, YOU HOT-ASSED BITCH! FUCK FASTER! 
HARDER!"

Her little boy's obscene remarks rang lewdly in Harriet's ears, whipping her passion all the 
higher.

Purposely avoiding any up-and-down movements, she rocked her hips like crazy, huffing 
for breath as the swirling sensations of impending rapture welled up in her blood-congested 
loins.

"I'M... ALMOST THERE!" she gasped, riding his horn like a jockey racing down the 
homestretch on the winning horse. "OHH, OHH... REGAN... BABY... PRECIOUS ANGEL... NOW... 
OHGOD... GAWD... NOW, NNOOWWW... OHHHH... MMMMM... OHJESUSGOD... CUMMING...
I'M CCCCUUUUMMMMIIIINNNGGGG!!! " And indeed she was. She lost the cadence. Her belly 
sucked in along with her sharp intake of breath, then returned to its original shape of slightly 
rounded feminine softness and began rippling as, throwing back her head, she exhaled with a 
rasping: "WWWWWHHHHHAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!"

"IS IT GOOD, MOM?"

"GOOD!" she cried, shivering with instant bliss as her dainty toes curled under and hugged
the balls of her feet. "SOOOOO GOOODDD... UNN, UNN... OOOOHHHHHH!!!! " Her elbows 
buckled and she collapsed atop him. She sobbed ecstatically. Beads of sweat popped out all 
over her as the flesh-quaking tremors of her climax racked her torso again and again, causing 
great waves of blessed relief to wash over her one after another until she thought she was 
drowning in a sea of boiling bliss.

"You didn't cum, sweetheart?" Harriet asked, after her orgasm had subsided and she'd 
caught her breath.

He shook his head, grinning, and said, "I didn't want to yet." "I'm glad," she sighed. "Now 
we can fuck some more, huh?" "Durn right."
"You sweet thing. Kiss me!"

They kissed with open mouths, their tongues entwining serpentine back and forth, back 
and forth, while Harriet, feeling incredibly sexy, worked her internal muscles in a way that 
made her pussy nibble at his hilt-deep length of curved turgidity.

She toyed with the idea of bringing him off that way, as she had that morning at her folks' 
house, but the need for silence which had existed there was absent now, in her own home, 
and besides, she wanted to fuck him not milk his darling dick.

In due time, she rose to the woman-above, kneeling position, and started lifting and 
lowering her body.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, the tone of his voice and the expression on his 
handsome young face telling Harriet more clearly than words could've that he was thoroughly
enjoying this, just as she was.

"Nothing," she whispered sultrily, rising and falling rhythmically. "Be lazy, precious. Just lie 
there and let Mother do all the work. I'm fucking you this time, remember?"

"Uh-huh. Okay." "Is it good, Son?" "You bet."
"For me, too," she purred, increasing the speed a tiny bit, bearing down to mash her sensitive 
labia majora firmly against his bald pubis each time she impaled herself on the length of his 
pleasure-giving staff, the slitted tip of its bloated head bump, bump, bumping the neck of her 
uterus.

"SHIT YES, IT'S GOOD!" she trilled, after about three minutes of silent screwing, the only 
sounds being their increasingly labored breathing and the faint squeaking noises of the box 
springs below the rustling mattress. "AND GETTING BETTER ALL THE TIME! DON'T CUM UNTIL
YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO, ANGEL! LET YOUR HOT-ASSED MOTHER FUCK
YOU AND FUCK YOU AND FUCK YOU... OOOH... FOR HOURS... AAAH... ALL NIGHT LONG!"

Whatever Mom said was swell with Regan. Since he was just lying there, not moving a 
muscle, so far as he was concerned, let her go! In his naivete, he took his mother at her word, 
believing it actually would be possible for them to continue this way for hours, maybe even all 
night.

Harriet's knees hugged his sides. She'd worked her feet beneath his boyish bottom and 
was caressing his fatty asscheeks with their smooth, soft soles, tickling the insides of his thighs
with her toes.

Suddenly she paused. "Why'd you stop?"
"I'M ABOUT TO... CUM AGAIN AND... I DON'T WANT TO YET!" she panted.

"Why not?"

"I'D RATHER... LET THE FEELING... BUILD UNTIL IT... GETS UNBEARABLY GOOD... SO IT'LL BE
MORE INTENSE WHEN I DO CUM!"

"Oh." It sounded like a fine idea. He was learning and glad to be. Evidently there was more 
to fucking than merely ramming it in and going to town. "You're pretty smart, Mom."

Harriet chuckled. "I've got more experience than you," she told him, her voice calming 
down now that her critical moment had passed. She let herself down, hovering over him, 
supporting her weight on her elbows, and cupped the back of his head in her hands, lifting it 
toward her bosom. "Suck Mother's titties, why don't you?"

She was full of fine ideas. Regan couldn't've been more delighted with her invitation. He 
put his arms around her as she twisted her torso to offer him her left titty first. The coral cone 
was all crinkly again, the tip of it standing out like the eraser of a wooden pencil, only bigger, 
with a tiny hole in the end of it.

The hole's where the milk comes out, he thought, slightly awed by his intuitive knowledge,
then he corrected himself, Where it did come out, when I was a baby. She wouldn't have any 
milk now... would she? He honestly didn't know, but sort of hoped she did. It might be fun to 
get his milk out of her instead of a carton, nice and warm not cold. What would it taste like?

Eagerly he took his mother's nipple between his lips and drew it into his mouth. 
"Mmmmm!" Harriet purred.
He began sucking, hoping for milk but not really expecting to get any, so it was no 
disappointment when he found her dry. Anyway, they were doing it for fun, and it excited him 
to nurse her titty, half-pretending he was a baby again, even if he did have his peter stuck up 
her hot wet pussy.

"Oh, yes... that's nice, honey. It makes Mother feel warm and tingly all over her body," she 
crooned. "Now the other one. Suck it too, you sweet thing!"

Neither of them were in any particular hurry to get on with the primary business of sexual 
intercourse. For five minutes, maybe longer, Regan went from tit to tit, pleasuring his mother's
tender nipples with gentle sucking and licking. It was a form of delicious torture for Harriet, 
leaning over him as she was with his ferrous
young rod buried in her bush, pulsating like an idling engine in the snug slipperiness of her 
mature vagina, but how she loved it. Then he began nipping her nipples with his sharp little 
teeth, the way she'd one to his.

"OHH, OHH!" she cried aloud. "YES, DARLING... GOD, GOD... YES, BITE 'EM... MY
TITTIES... IT HURTS GOOOODDDD!!!! " He knew how it felt. She'd done it to him. Nipples were 
nipples, she'd said. He sank his teeth into one of the tumescent cones and worked his lower 
jaw like a dog worrying a rope, rolling her tender titflesh back and forth between his teeth.

"AAA-GOD!" she hissed through her teeth, her lips quivering as they drew back. He was 
biting harder than she had, really hurting her now, but the stinging pain had a sexual overtone
which made it a joy to endure. "THE OTHER ONE!" she gasped, wincing, squirming. "BITE THE 
OTHER ONE NOW! GOOD AND HARD!"

Her wish was his command. "AAARRRGGGHHHH!!!! " she groaned, suffering and loving it 
when he followed her instructions to the letter, and bit into her other tumid nipple good and 
hard.

"ENOUGH!" she sobbed, seconds later. "I CA-CAN'T TAKE ANY MORE! STOP! GOOD GOD, 
DON'T CHEW IT OOFFF!!!"

Abruptly Regan released her tormented tit and, realizing he'd gotten a little carried away, 
he apologized, saying that he hoped he hadn't really hurt her or anything.

There were indentations where his teeth had been, but he hadn't broken the skin or drawn
blood. Harriet told him it'd hurt like the dickens, but exquisitely so.

The sex pain had turned her back on full blast. She kissed him gratefully for the rough 
abuse he'd inflicted upon her, then she sat up quickly and started riding his rod hard and fast, 
going: "OHH, OHH, OHH!!"

She bucked up and down on his horn like a wild woman, slinging her head about, her pert 
breasts bobbing and swaying.

"ALL THE WAY!" she husked. "I WANT TO CUM... THIS TI-TIME! TELL ME... WHEN YOU'RE... 
READY... OOOHHH... GOD, IT'S GOODDD!!!"

The circumference of his sturdy stem plugged her hairy opening snugly enough so that 
her free-flowing vaginal dew couldn't easily escape so long as they were locked together in 
incestuous sexual union. The hot juices had been building up inside her all along, and now she
was so full of her own liquid it could be heard sloshing around inside her.

Her inflamed sex petals clung to Regan's sex-wetted stalk, pulling out salaciously around 
the glistening shaft as she climbed it, then folding in around him in joyous submission as she 
skidded back down his rampant prick to another glorious full impalement that jarred her 
womb.

She started squishing on the downstroke, her hungry hot twat sucking at his tool as she 
bounced back up. It sounded something like: Squish-slurp, squish-slurp, squish- slurp! the 
sounds their joined genitals were making, while the bedsprings beneath them went: Squeak, 
squeak, squeak! raspily, on and on.

"OH, REGAN... ANGEL BABY... HURRY... IT'S GETTING TOO GOOD!" Harriet wailed. The
cords connecting her thighs to her perspiration-dampened groin stood out boldly, jerking and
twitching as she employed the muscles in her legs to keep her torso bouncing furiously up 
and down. "I CA-CAN'T HOLD OFF... MUCH LONGER! FUCK WITH ME
NOW! SHOVE IT UP TO ME... YOUR LOVELY COCK... STAB MOTHER WITH IT... AAHHH, YES, 
YESSS... THAT'S THE WAY... UNN, UNN... HARDER, BABY... FASTER... SOCK IT UP INTO 
MMEEEE!!!!"

They went at it as if they were afraid they'd never have another chance, mother and son, 
fucking together hard and fast as they could go. The bedsprings squawked frenziedly, 
popping and snapping now as well as squeaking rhythmically, combining with their pleasured 
outcries and harsh breathing. The air surrounding them reeked with the mixed odors of sweat 
and sex. It stung their passion-flared nostrils most agreeably each time they inhaled gaspingly.
The erotic noises of their unholy copulation echoed off the walls-the rasping bedsprings; the 
squish-slurp of Harriet's cuntlips skimming rapid-fire up and down her little boy's slippery fat 
dick; the ragged sounds of their labored breathing-and it was the sweetest music this side of 
heaven, the age-old song of male and female locked one to the other, screwing for all they 
were worth, striving toward the Nirvana of simultaneous cumming.

Then they had an accident. One second they were going great, the next Regan's rock hard, 
pussy-slickened pecker had slipped out of Harriet's proper orifice and was stabbing into 
her nether hole.

"NNNNNAAAAHHHHH!!!!" she screeched, as the bloated knob embedded itself in her 
rectum, stretching her tiny coral rim to the limit as it popped through her resisting anal 
sphincter. It felt like a fist was being crammed into her defenseless butthole. The shock of it 
took her breath away. Already in motion, the force of her momentum carried her on down. 
Before she could stop, she'd inadvertently impaled herself anally to the very hilt on her son's 
hotly throbbing peter. And once it had skewered clear up to his balls into her forbidden 
passage, she thought for sure she was going to pass out.

"AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!" she groaned gutturally, and began shuddering like a rabbit 
that'd just been run through with a sharp stick and lifted into the air.

"MOM?!" Regan cried with alarm. "WHAT'S WRONG?! WHAT HAPPENED?!"

"IT'S IN MY... AASSSS!!!!" she screamed, her face mirroring confusion, bittersweet agony 
and, yes, a hint of stunned masochistic pleasure. "IT HURTS... DEAR GOD, HOW IT 
HHUURRTTSS!!!" Shrilly she protested the degrading invasion of her virginal asshole, but, 
strangely, she made no move whatsoever to free herself of the bowel- plundering instrument.

She fought for air, sucked it, gulped it down into her lungs, and by the time she'd caught 
her breath, Harriet had no intention of disimpaling herself. The initial blast of gut-searing pain 
had dissipated swiftly, diffusing itself through her anal musculature and seeping into her 
orgasm-primed loins. The hurt was still there, but spread out evenly now, causing a stuffed 
sensation, a delicious ache that reached from the tops of her thighs clear up past her waist. 
Taking the stony hot cock into her butt had been an accident; leaving it inside her was a purely
voluntary act on Harriet's part.

"IT FEELS... GOOD NOW!" she gasped, her glassy eyes blinking with disbelief that such a 
thing could be. "OH, GOD... IT'S WONDERFUL... I LOVE IT... UP MY BUTT... I DO, I DDOOOO!!!"

She slapped her hand between her legs and thrust three fingers palm-deep into the 
beggingly empty sheath of her sopping-wet snatch.

"A AA-GGG AAAHHH!!! " she moaned and, finger-fucking herself like a fiend, she started 
bucking up and down even more vigorously than before, deliberately
buggering herself to beat the band.

"IT'S TIGHTER... AND HOTTER... YOUR ASSHOLE!" Regan panted, thrusting to help, driving 
his dong deep as it would go into the furnace-like heat of her incredibly snug shit chute. "I 
LIKE YOUR POOPER... BETTER THAN YOUR CUNT! FUCK IT, FUCK IT! MOM'S ASSHOLE! 
HARDER, MOM... FUCK FASTER... I TH-THINK... I'M GONNA CCUUMMM!!!"

"THEN SHOOT IT!" Harriet shrieked, flicking hell out of her blood-glutted clit with her 
thumb as she buried the original three fingers in her dribbling slot, her erogenous rectum 
pumping in and out around Regan's brown-tinged rod as she rode it toward the promised 
land. "I'M READY TOO, SON! GOODGODALMIGHTYDAMN, AM I... EVER... UNN, UNN, UNN... 
RREEAADDIIIEEE!!!"

They went off at precisely the same second. Harriet came hurtling down, taking the full 
length of her son's urgently throbbing organ up her butt as her clitoris drew back jerkily into 
the inverted V at the top of her fluttering hairy gash. "UNG, UNG, UUNNGGG!!!" Regan 
groaned gruntingly, his prick spitting ejaculate into her bowels even before her firm/soft 
buttocks slapped warm and sheened with a film of sweat down over the tops of his thighs and
groin.

"IIIIIIEEEEEE!!!!" Harriet trilled, having the climax of her life as a result of their accidental 
sodomy.

Her child's pecker throbbed like a beating heart, the ballooning head buried deep in her 
roiling bowels, where she could feel the jets of his sticky hot jizz spurting out of him in a 
surprisingly large amount considering his young and tender age. It was nearly a man-sized 
load he had for her this time. She could feel it spewing up her ass. He was giving her a 
hot-cum enema!

"HHHAAA-LLLAAAAHHHHH!!!" she yelled, throwing back her head in pure and 
unadulterated ecstasy.

Inside her hair-ringed, finger-filled slot, her silky vagina went berserk, jerking, twitching, 
squeezing down on her inserted fingers. The colorless fluids of womanly arousal gushed 
copiously from her, splashing over her hand and washing in a viscous wave over Regan's 
fat-layered, heaving little tummy, trickling luridly over his hips and down under his buttocks 
until she could feel it drenching the soles of her butt-hugging feet.

"OHH, OHH... CUMMING... GGGGAAAAHHHH!!! " she groaned gutturally, and collapsed 
atop him, the both of them sobbing brokenly, shuddering uncontrollably, as together they 
rode out the tidal wave of the excruciating orgasmic bliss.

CHAPTER TEN

Their relationship changed. They were lovers first, mother and son second. Instead of 
going off to play with his little friend Billy, Regan started coming straight home from school to
be with his mother. They were all but inseparable. He wanted to be with her all the time. 
Weekends too, daytime as well as at night. At first Harriet was flattered and pleased. After a 
while, however, she got to wondering if it was healthy for Regan. Shouldn't a child be 
interested in play? And have friends his own age? Harriet became worried about him.

"Why don't you play with Billy any more?" she asked. "I'd rather be with you, Mom."
"Don't you like Billy any more?"
"Yeah, he's okay," Regan replied. "But you're more fun to be with. He's kind of childish."

"And you're an old man of twelve," she chuckled. He grinned. "I feel older."
Somehow this saddened Harriet. She felt as if she'd stolen her son's childhood. "Well, if Billy's 
too childish for you nowadays, find another playmate who isn't, huh? I don't want you 
hanging around the house with me all the time, the way you've been doing."

It was a relief when, a few days later, Regan called after school, said he was at the home of 
a classmate and asked if it was okay to stay there a couple of hours. He explained that they 
were doing their homework together.

"Yes, dear, that'll be fine," she told him. "Take your time. I'll see you at supper."

Regan went to his new friend's house on Saturday, and spent the entire day there.

"How about let's take in a movie this afternoon, sugar?" Harriet suggested at Sunday 
brunch. It'd become a habit. Generally they drove into San Francisco on Sunday afternoons, 
and went to a movie there.

"Do we have to today, Mom?"

"Well, no, I guess not, if you don't want to."

"I already checked the paper. There's nothing on I want to see. I thought I'd go over and 
shoot some pool with Melissa. They've got a regulation-size pool table in their den. It's a lot of
fun. Melissa's teaching me how to play."

"Melissa?" Harriet said, realizing for the first time that Regan's new friend was a girl. She'd 
been so relieved that he'd made a new friend that she'd neglected to ask the new friend's 
name. "A girl? You've been doing your homework with a silly old girl?" she teased. "And spent 
the whole day yesterday playing pool with one? I thought you couldn't stand sissy old girls."

He blushed. "Melissa's different," he said.

Harriet laughed softly. She said they'd skip the movie, told him to go on over and shoot 
pool with Melissa if he wanted to. She was amused. Her little boy had his first girlfriend. It 
appeared to be puppy love, judging from the way he'd blushed.

Harriet thought it was cute. And healthy. For a mother and son, they'd been getting much 
too tied up in one another lately.

But during the following week, when Harriet was having her period, Regan didn't pester 
her to go down on him or let him cornhole her, the way he usually did when she was 
menstruating and not really interested in sexing. Naturally she asked what was wrong with 
him. He hemmed and hawed, blushed, turned sheepish, then finally he reluctantly confessed 
that he and Melissa were "doing it."

This came as a shock to Harriet. Puppy love was one thing, but an illicit affair? Two twelve 
year olds! She was dumbfounded. And, to her surprise, more jealous of this precocious 
Melissa than she wanted to admit, even to herself. The little slut was stealing Regan away from
her! Although she'd never seen the girl, Harriet resented her intensely when she discovered 
Regan was doing considerably more with
her than playing pool and doing homework. She'd imagined them making goo-goo eyes at 
one another, not fucking! But she kept her mouth shut, neither condemning nor condoning 
what Regan had told her. In the back of her mind, Harriet hoped Regan would tire of the 
trashy little bitch, and stop seeing her.

He didn't.

"Mom, Melissa will be thirteen Sunday," Regan said a couple of weeks later during supper 
on a Wednesday evening. "Will you come to her birthday party and be a chaperon?"

"What's the matter with her mother? Can't she do it?" Harriet snapped. "Her mother 
doesn't live with them. She's sick.
I'm not sure, but I think she's in a mental institution, from what Melissa's said. You don't have 
to. Mister Slauson wanted me to ask you, and I said I would."

"Oh," Harriet said. "I'll think about it."

Andy Slauson was in his late thirties, about average height and athletically built, with 
mod-length jet-black hair. His face reminded Harriet of Robert Taylor at the height of his 
movie career. Like the actor he resembled, Andy Slauson was too pretty to be a man. Harriet 
felt an upsettingly strong physical attraction toward Andy the moment they laid eyes on one 
another, and evidently the feeling was mutual because sparks seemed to fly as their children 
introduced them.

"Nice of you to come, Harriet," Andy said, his dark eyes silently communicating his 
immediate desire to possess her as they shook hands innocently, but longer than necessary, 
Harriet thought, and she wasn't sure she liked the way he went right to a first name basis, 
either. It was too intimate, the way he said her name. She felt threatened somehow. "I'm afraid
I'm not much with children's parties," he added. "I'll certainly appreciate your help."

What help? Harriet wondered later.

The Slauson's part-time housekeeper, a Japanese woman in her sixties, had been hired to 
serve refreshments and clean up afterward. Apparently Regan and Melissa had planned the 
party games, and Regan was acting more like the host than Melissa's father. The party 
progressed smoothly under Regan's direction, too, with only a minimum of adult supervision 
from Harriet and Andy. Being the only parents present, they were thrown together in a festive 
atmosphere which made it easy for them to become rapidly acquainted and develop a 
genuine liking for each other.

"It went well, didn't it?" Andy said, after the last of the young guests, twenty- three kids 
besides Regan and Melissa, had been picked up by their parents.

"Yes, it was a fine party," Harriet agreed. "The kids had a good time." "Thanks to you," 
Andy said.
"Oh, no," Harriet demurred. "Thanks to our kids. Regan and Melissa had everything planned 
very well, didn't they?"

"They did at that," Andy agreed. "We can be proud of them."

Harriet nodded, wondering if Andy had any idea that their kids were screwing regularly. 
Now that she'd met Regan's little girlfriend, she liked her. Melissa had a sweet and natural 
personality that'd won Harriet over in spite of herself. She
was a willowy child with a delicately featured, oval face, a peaches-and-cream complexion and
lustrous light-brown hair that flowed long and fashionably straight- for young girls, that 
is-down to the small of her back.

"Now that the party's over," Andy said, "let me fix you a drink."

Andy made drinks. They took them into the den. Regan and Melissa were in the middle of 
a game of rotation. Melissa's birthday presents were neatly stacked in the corner, ignored 
now. Self-consciously Harriet stood beside Andy, sipping her drink, chatting with him as they 
watched their children at play. A black and tan Doberman pinscher, Melissa's pet, 
appropriately named Dobie, lay snoozing on the red-velvet couch. The housekeeper was 
moving about, cleaning up.

"Missus Burke, would you like to play?" Melissa asked.

"I, uh, no, I guess not," Harriet said. "Thank you for asking me, Melissa, but I've never 
played pool. I don't know the first thing about it."

"Easy enough to remedy," Andy piped up. "We'll all play. Grownups against kids, okay?"

"Yeah," Regan said. "Come on, Mom, it's fun."

"It isn't hard to learn, Harriet. I'll teach you as we go," Andy offered. "All right then," Harriet
said. "Why not?"
While Andy was leaning over her from behind, his arms helpfully around her to demonstrate 
the proper use of the cue stick, Harriet thought she would wet her underpants. Not only did 
his loins snuggle vulgarly up to her out-thrust rear end, but he got a partial erection and had 
the unmitigated gall to sneakily rub himself against her butt right in front of Regan and 
Melissa! She didn't know what to think about the man then, or what, if anything, she ought to 
do about his improper gesture. Unnerved, blushing, shivering imperceptibly as his 
underhanded play for her gave her a delicious albeit unwanted illicit thrill, she pretended not 
to notice his shameless overture.

They played partners in a game of straight pool. The housekeeper left while they were 
playing, after telling Andy the dishes were in the machine. The kids won.
Harriet got the impression that Andy could've beaten them by himself but had deliberately let 
them win. Andy refilled their glasses and the four of them started another game of pool. By 
dusk, Harriet had consumed three highballs and was beginning to feel the effects. She was 
enjoying herself. A couple of times, while the kids were shooting, Andy had slipped his arm 
around her waist-once he'd patted her hip; the other time he'd merely given her an innocent 
little hug, a very brief one at that. Harriet began to wonder if he'd even realized he was 
rubbing a semi- erection against her bottom while he was giving her that short lesson in the 
use of the cue stick. He seemed to be a decent enough sort, with no obvious lewd intentions 
toward seducing her, but for some inexplicable reason, she felt let down about it. She liked 
him, and couldn't help secretly wondering how it would be with the handsome guy.

"Am I the only one getting hungry around here?" Andy asked. "I am, Daddy," Melissa said.
"Me, too," Regan seconded.

"Harriet, how about you?" Andy asked.
"Not really," Harriet said. "But it's getting late. I suppose Regan and I should be going."
"Oh, no," Andy said. "You helped me with the party. The least I can do is feed you. I want to 
take you to a certain little restaurant, it isn't far. You'd never guess it from the looks of the 
place, clean as a pin but nothing fancy, but they serve delicious steaks. The kids too, of course.
Come on, let's go."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The kids wanted pizza instead of steaks. Harriet didn't care; she wasn't particularly hungry 
anyway, so it didn't matter to her where or what they ate. Since it was Melissa's birthday, the 
brand-new teenager prevailed upon her father on her and Regan's behalf, and she got their 
way. Andy took the four of them to a pizzeria.

By the time they returned to the Slauson residence, Harriet, who discovered she was 
hungry, after all, once she'd started eating, had learned that Andy commuted to his office in 
San Francisco six days a week, where he and a partner operated an import/export firm, small 
but growing.

"Thank you for a very pleasant afternoon and evening," Harriet said as they got out of 
Andy's '72 Lincoln Continental. She'd ridden in the front with Andy, and had noticed the kids 
holding hands in the back seat, stealing a couple of quick and furtive kisses, even if Andy 
hadn't. "We'll say good night here. Regan and I must be getting home now."

"The driveway is no place to say good night," Andy protested good-naturedly. "Come in 
for a little while. Let me fix you another drink."

"Let's do go in, Mom," Regan pleaded. "It's still early. Melissa and me want to shoot 
another game of pool."

"Please, Missus Burke?" Melissa implored sweetly, looking for all the world like a pure 
young virgin as she stood there beside Regan in her boots and miniskirt and a loose sweater 
that revealed the two swells of her budding little breasts.

Against her better judgment, Harriet allowed herself to be talked into it. "We really 
shouldn't, Regan, but all right," she relented. "Make it a quick game, though, because we can't
stay long." The kids dashed for the den soon as they entered the house. Andy made drinks. He
took Harriet into the living room. They sat on the couch, she at one end and he at the other, 
sipping their drinks, chatting amicably.

"My wife's been institutionalized for nearly five years," Andy said, when they were about 
halfway through their drinks. "LSD. A girlfriend got her to try it. Just that once, I think. Must be
a helluva trip. She's still on it."

"I'm sorry," Harriet said. "Is there no hope?"

He shrugged. "There's always hope, but so far... no significant improvement, is the way the 
doctors put it."

"Does Melissa know?"

He nodded. "I thought I ought to tell her the truth. It might "keep her from doing anything
foolish."
"Yes, of course. It might. You're probably right. I hope so."
"I understand your husband's an MIA." Harriet nodded. "Nearly two years."
"I guess we're in pretty much the same boat, aren't we?"

"I suppose we are," Harriet agreed, wondering what he was driving at. She forced a smile. 
"It's a great life if you don't weaken."

"Right," Andy said. "People have got to go on with the business of living, haven't they? 
And make the best of it."

There was a long silence. They looked at one another, really looked, communicating with 
their eyes.

Harriet finally blushed and lowered her gaze. "You're a nice man, Andy Slauson, but if 
you're thinking what I'm thinking, shame on us."

"I am, Harriet. Yes. I definitely am. From the moment I saw you." He put aside his drink and 
slid along the couch toward her.
"No, Andy. Please don't."

He put his arm around her, took her chin in his hand, turned her face toward him and 
kissed her full on the lips.

Fumblingly Harriet set her drink on the lamp table, then brought her hand to his shoulder 
and began pushing at it weakly. The tip of his tongue probed between her lips, coaxing her to 
open her mouth and allow it inside. Gradually she quit pushing at his shoulder. There was a 
chemistry between them. Everything she'd ever believed in told her, No! Fight it! Don't give in!
You're a married woman!

But was she a married woman? What if Curt was dead?

It didn't matter. Wife or widow, she was a woman and she wanted this man. She put her 
arm around his neck and opened her mouth to him. His tongue came rushing in. She 
whimpered low in her throat and sucked it hungrily. She wanted to submit to his advances. 
Her feminine being cried out to be taken by his masculine desire.

"Damn you," she said. "Why'd you have to do that?" "You wanted me to, didn't you?"
"I can't deny that," Harriet admitted, pushing him away. "And that's the rub. I could go for you.
Now leave me alone. I don't want to get hurt any more."

"Relax. Let it happen. I won't hurt you, baby."

"The hell you won't. If I let you, you will. Don't toy with me, Andy. A handsome guy like 
you can get all kinds of girls. Younger and prettier than me."

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Harriet, and mine tells me you're a beautiful person, 
inside and out. I've been having all kinds of girls. What I want
is a meaningful relationship now, with you."

"It couldn't be permanent," she protested weakly. "The way things are!"

"It could be as permanent as anything is in this day and age, and besides, it would be 
good for both of us, because of the way things are... Not to mention the kids.
Melissa needs a mother. Doesn't Regan need a father?"

A father. Yes, Regan needed a father. His own. But in the meantime, having a kind, 
successful man to model himself after certainly wouldn't hurt Regan any, would it?

"Oh, I don't know," Harriet said flippantly. It wasn't easy to give in, change her ideas as well
as her way of living. "Regan and I have been doing all right lately."

"So I've heard," Andy said, flashing her a knowing smile.

"What do you mean?" Harriet demanded. "What are you grinning about?" "I know what's 
been going on at your house. Regan told me."
"He wouldn't!" Harriet gasped. "Why, the little shit! I'll-"

"Hey, don't get uptight about it," Andy said, trying not to laugh. "Your secret's safe with 
me. People who live in glass houses, as they say, can't afford to throw stones."

"Wh-what do you mean? You... and Melissa?" He nodded. "For exactly one year. My little 
girl gave her cherry to Daddy on her twelfth birthday. It was entirely her idea, I hasten to tell 
you, though I have to admit I wasn't the hardest guy in the world to seduce. Actually, I was a 
pushover for the little cutie pie. Don't look so shocked, Harriet, it happens all the time. Mother
and son; father and daughter; brother and sister, etc... Incest is a fact of life, always has been 
and always will be. It doesn't necessarily turn out disastrous, either. It hasn't in either of our 
cases, has it?"

"Well, no-no," Harriet sputtered. "Apparently not. But Regan and Melissa... do you-?"

"I not only know, but I approve. I gave them my blessing. Regan's a good kid. I like him a 
lot. You oughtta see that horny boy of yours shagging it into my little girl, Harriet. I tell you, 
when they get going good, it's Katy bar the door! A couple of minks, that's what they remind 
me of, all the time fucking or sucking one another off. I bet they're in the den banging away 
right now. What do you say we go peek in and see?"

"My God!" Harriet exclaimed. "I don't believe it! I hear you talking but... I just don't believe 
this!"

Unable to contain his laughter any longer, Andy let it out.

Mortified, Harriet turned away and grabbed for her half-full drink. Her hand shaking 
visibly, she raised the glass to her lips and didn't lower it again until she'd drained it.

"Hey, don't get pissed," Andy soothed. "I wasn't laughing at you, baby. All of a sudden, it 
just struck me as funny, this whole bit, and I couldn't hold it in."

Harriet banged the empty glass down on the lamp table. She turned scowlingly toward 
Andy, intending to give him a piece of her mind. But he was grinning like a
mischievous schoolboy. Her indignation evaporated. She grinned back at him, then broke out 
in peals of laughter, herself.

"You're ri-right," she heehawed. "It is funny! Ha, ha, ho! This whole fuckin' bit!" She was 
slightly hysterical, and knew it. When her laughter died down, however, she was her old self 
again, and viewing things in their proper perspective. "Life is ironic, isn't it, Andy?" she said.

"The only true enigma around," he agreed. "Come on, honey, let's go see what the kids are
up to."

"All right, dear," she replied.

The words of endearment between them seemed strange but nice. Harriet allowed him to 
take her hand and help her up. They kissed, locked fingers and, smiling, walked off toward the 
den holding hands.

As they moved down the hall, Regan's excited voice drifted out to them, "Is it good, 
baby?"

"Outtasight!" came Melissa's breathless reply. "Ouu, ouu, ouu!" Andy gave Harriet's hand a
squeeze. "Just as I suspected," he said.
The door was closed but not locked. As Andy quietly turned the knob and inched it open, 
sensual anticipation welled up, in Harriet. Andy released her hand, patted her behind and 
eased her forward, ahead of him. She preceded him into the den, feeling it was somehow 
wrong to barge in on the kids, that if they were going to condone their children's affair they 
ought to give them privacy for their lovemaking.

"OHGOODLORD!" Harriet gasped in shock, her startled eyes refusing to believe what they 
saw.

"MELISSA!" Andy rasped. Obviously he was surprised, but apparently not shocked. "What 
the hell, cutie pie? Isn't this carrying things a little too far?"

"Huh-UH, Daddy!" the girl replied, without so much as glancing their way. "It feels great! 
Dobie's fucking me real good!"

There was a large oval shag rug, snow-white and very thick, on the floor in front of the 
red-velvet couch. Melissa was kneeling on the rug, her head resting on the couch between 
Regan's legs. His peter protruded from his fly and she was fondling it. Her discarded panties 
were a splash of blue on the white rug between her parted knees. Her miniskirt was bunched 
around her slender little waist, more or less held there by the encircling forelegs of the black 
and tan Doberman pinscher.

"He's fucking her!" Harriet squeaked incredulously. "That huge dog! He's got his penis in 
her, Andy!"

"Damned if he hasn't," Andy said. "She's let Dobie lick her little box before, and she's 
jacked him off a couple of times, but I never thought it would lead to this. What do you think I
ought to do about it?"

Break it up! Harriet started to tell him, and she knew she should because decency 
demanded no less, but she didn't. "Nothing!" Her voice quavered. "Leave them alone!" It was 
dreadful of her, but she wanted to see every bit of this! For some strange reason, the sordid 
scene of ongoing bestiality between the little girl and the big black dog turned Harriet on not 
off! "Jesus, look at them go, Andy!"
"It excites you, does it?" he chuckled. "I can't help it!" Harriet admitted.
"Yeah, I know what you mean. Me too. Come on, honey, let's move closer!"

"Hi, Mom, Andy," Regan said. He was grinning from ear to ear. "Except for Dobie, things 
were workin' out just like we hoped, huh, Andy? Take Mom's clothes off her. Get her to suck 
your dick. Will you go down on Andy, Mom? I wanna see you do it!"

"Regan!" Harriet said embarrassedly. "Don't talk that way! What the hell's going on around
here anyway?!"

"We were hoping for a sex party," Andy confessed. "A bit of mother/son- father/daughter 
swapping. How about it, Harriet, are you game?"

"Good grief, I've never heard of anything so depraved!" Harriet whined. Her brain spun 
luridly as she glanced from her son to her would-be lover to his daughter and the dog 
humping into her. "It sounds delicious! Let's do it! I've never been to an orgy before!"

"That's the girl, Mom!" Regan squealed with glee. "Will you suck Andy's dick?"

Harriet shivered as she gave in to this willful wickedness and allowed a mood of luscious 
licentiousness to settle over her. "Yes, precious, I'll suck his dick," she said to Regan as Andy, 
standing behind her, unzipped her dress. "Don't you know your mother's a hopeless 
cocksucker now? It's your fault, Son. You got me hooked on it. I know you want to see me 
fellating Andy and you will, too, but first I want to watch while Melissa finishes taking on this 
magnificent beast! Good Christ, how it turns me on!"

"You oughtta... try it, Missus Burke!" Melissa said. "Dobie's dick is so hot! Skinny but nice 
and long and... AAAAH... p-pointed at the end! It's lovely! OOOH! No-nothing... like a man's!"

"Oh, no," Harriet protested. "Not me. I just want to see it, not try it myself." She lifted her 
arms as Andy pulled her dress up and off.

The Doberman's blinking eyes shone dully. His slender red tongue hung pantingly out of 
his open mouth. His bobtailed rear end shuttled smoothly back and forth, his back arched 
rhythmically as he clung to the willowy little girl's torso, blissfully pumping his long, beet-red 
prick in and out of her finely downed, pouting young pussy.

Andy divested Harriet of her bra, half slip and panties, and it gave her a sinful charge to let
him strip her in front of her son. She asked him if he wanted her naked. He said no, that she 
looked incredibly sexy the way she was, in her garter belt, nylon hose and high-heeled shoes, 
so she left them on for him, thinking to herself that she couldn't possibly look as sexy as she 
felt.

When Andy had stripped to the buff, they sat down on the rug for a better view of Dobie's
animal prick plunging into Melissa's cute little cunny. It was the most erotic sight Harriet had 
ever seen. The dog's heavy black testicles swung to and fro, bumping the child's clitoral area 
repeatedly, making her whimper and sigh each time the inflamed shaft of lengthening canine 
turgidity disappeared to the hilt inside her. The tapering organ was so long that Harriet 
suspected the head of it must be hitting into Melissa nearly waist deep.
"Hold my cock, luv," Andy said.

He took Harriet's hand and drew it to his lap, placing it on his rampant erection. Her 
slender fingers eagerly encircled the rock-hard shaft. She ran her hand exploringly up to the 
bulbous crown, then all the way down to the flared, course- haired root of his phallus.

"It's huge!" she breathed, shivering with a mixture of fear and anticipation as she imagined
how it would feel sinking into her.

"Andy's got nine inches, Mom," Regan told her. "Melissa measured it."

It felt at least that big to Harriet's caressing hand and, when she glanced at his dong, 
forcing her attention momentarily from the enthralling act of girl/dog intercourse, the 
uncircumcised pole angling up from Andy's thatch of bristly black pubic hair looked even 
larger than it felt. Melissa was such a small child that Harriet wondered how in the world she'd
ever manage to take her father's massive organ!

"OHH, OHH, OHH!" Melissa began chanting.

The young girl's pleasured outcries drew Harriet's gaze like a magnet back to the 
fascinating spectacle of ongoing bestiality.

"Sounds like she's about to cum," Andy said. "Are you, cutie pie?" "OOOOOHH!" Melissa 
moaned.
"I think she is!" Regan said. "Her face looks like it!"

"CUMMING! CUMMING! OOOOOOOHHHHHHH! I'M 
CCCCCUUUUUUUMMMMMMIIIIINNNNNNGGGG!!!"
Melissa squealed, and she began shaking uncontrollably, the puffy lips of her sparsely haired 
cunny fluttering and twitching around the thrusting length of the tapering red dog-cock. 
"AAAAAHHHHH... UUUNNNN, UUUNNNN... OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

"Have a good cum, cutie pie!" Andy encouraged his daughter. "Enjoy it! Tell us about it!"

"IT'S CLEAR... OUTTASIGHT, DADDY!" the blissfully writhing child shrieked. "SHIT, SHIT... 
AAAA-GODDAMN... IT'S SOOO GOOD! WONDERFUL! OHHH, OHHH...
NNNNNNNAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

"GOOD CHRIST!" Harriet husked, her mature snatch dribbling empathically. "IT DOES 
SOUND GOOD, THE WAY SHE'S CARRYING ON!"
"You want to try some of the dog-prick yourself, honey?" Andy asked suggestively. "OH GOD, I
DON'T KNOW! I SHOULDN'T... BUT M AYBE I WILL, LATER!" Harriet whined
unsurely, her hand stroking up and down the nine inches of Andy's turgid tool.
"RIGHT NOW I WANT THIS THING! IN MY MOUTH! OH, ANDY, DARLING, I'M SO HOT! GIVE 
ME YOUR BIG FAT DICK! LET ME SUCK ITTT!!!"

"My pleasure, honey," Andy replied, and he lay back on the soft, thick rug. "Climb on top 
of me! Let's go sixty-nine!"

"WHAT A LOVELY IDEA!" Harriet cried. She swung above him, her nylon-encased legs 
straddling his shoulders, and let herself down, her hovering cunt dribbling its love-dew into 
his face as it descended toward his mouth. "AHH, YES, SUCK MY SNATCH, YOU HANDSOME 
DEVIL!" she crooned, as his hands cupped buttocks and his lips
attached themselves leech-like to her hairy elliptical hole.

His upstanding rod was immensely desirable to Harriet. She couldn't remember ever 
having been more hot and bothered than she was at this moment. It was insane, what they 
were doing, but she couldn't seem to care. With her son scampering off the couch, kneeling 
beside her to watch her every move, completely ignoring his little girl friend as the dog 
continued to screw her, Harriet took hold of Andy's stanchion-like pole and ruttishly peeled 
back the folds of elastic foreskin.

The cockhead she uncovered reminded Harriet of a fat juicy plum, it was so large and 
purplish looking! But it didn't smell anything like a plum, and she knew it wouldn't taste like 
one either, judging from the musky male scent wafting up into her discerning female nostrils. 
Absently she traced her tonguetip over her lips and glanced over at Regan's excited visage.

"THAT'S GOING TO BE A MOUTHFUL FOR MOTHER, SON, JUST THE HEAD ALONE!"

His eyes fairly gleamed. "A COCKSUCKER LIKE YOU WON'T HAVE NO TROUBLE! GET IT, 
MOM! EAT THAT BIG PRICK UP!"

Harriet tugged down on the thick shaft of curved masculinity, drawing its penile hood all 
the way back. Her head darted down and she smacked a passionate wet kiss onto the slitted, 
secretion-oozing tip of Andy's crown.

"LICK IT, MOM!"

That was just what Harriet had in mind, so it was a pleasure to do her horny son's lewd 
bidding for his voyeuristic benefit. Out came her tongue. She dragged it across the forefront 
of Andy's plum-like glans and scooped up a drop of viscous clear seminal fluid just as it 
seeped from the pouting eye of his dickhead.

"MMMM!" Harriet mewled, savoring the distinctive flavor of his manly pre-cum as it 
permeated the pores of her tongue and tickled her taste buds in a titillating manner that 
made her want more, much more!

Slavishly she laved his purplish-hued knob, her pink tongue curling worshipfully over the 
velvety convex surfaces of the taut-skinned dome until it glistened wetly with her bubbly 
saliva. She formed her lips over the bluntly rounded end and, her fingers tightly gripping the 
base of his shaft, she raised her hand slowly but surely, milking the built-up secretions from 
his hidden urethra. The colorless substance bubbled warm .and sticky wet from the eye of his 
denuded crown, with Harriet sucking to increase the flow. God but his precoital fluids were 
delicious! She held it in her mouth till she had all he could give her at the moment, then she 
swallowed the heady-tasting liquid and emitted a gurgling noise of fellation delight.

CHAPTER TWELVE

"GO DOWN ON HIM NOW!"

It was Regan's voice she heard, as if from a distance. But that couldn't be. He was right 
beside her, directing her, watching her perform fellatio upon this good- looking man whom 
she'd met only hours earlier. It was also Regan's small hand she felt cupping the back of her 
head, pushing down on it.

More than willingly, Harriet went with the pressure, opening nice and wide as she allowed 
her little boy to feed her the cockhead of his girl friend's father. As she'd suspected, it was a 
mouthful. She could feel Andy's heart beating through the tautly stretched skin as she sucked 
down hungrily on his blood-bloated glans penis,
thoroughly enjoying the salty, man-cock flavor of his masculine organ.

A whimpering sob of joyous submission escaped Harriet's quivering nostrils. Her puffy red 
lips fluttered over the ridge of his flared corona and fastened themselves like greedy leeches 
around the top of his pulsating shaft. Her cheeks sank inward as she increased the suction and
began running her hand up and down his sturdy stalk. She wanted his cum, was dying to 
know what the mature sperm from a grown man's big hairy balls would taste like. Sucking the 
head and masturbating him simultaneously, she also put her tongue to work laving avidly at 
the swollen bulb in an effort to coax the cum out of him and hasten his ejaculation.

Andy was a master muff-diver and Harriet was no slouch as a fellatrice, so it was highly 
enjoyable for both of them to be lying together this way, their heads between one another's 
legs for the sole purpose of giving and receiving the ultimate in oral/genital pleasure. Harriet's
head bobbed but slightly, her lips straining to take in as much delicious cock as her 
sperm-starved mouth could contain; while Andy's head waggled between her thighs, his lips 
glued to her succulent gash and his tongue thrusting deeply, its educated tip flicking 
maddeningly at the nerve-laden head of her elongated, fiery-red pleasure button.

"THERE'S A KNOT ON DOBIE'S DICK!" Melissa announced with childish glee. "I CAN FE FEEL 
IT... POPPING IN AND OUT OF MY CUNNY!"

Melissa's outcry seemed to charge the sex-scented air in the room with erotic electricity, 
although a brief glance from Regan was all the personal attention it brought to the sensuous 
little girl. Regan quickly turned back to the more interesting sight of his mother fervently 
sucking cock, and he took his own smaller rod in hand, squeezing it against the ache of its 
nearly unbearable hardness. As for Harriet and Andy, they sucked one another with added 
gusto, each of them experiencing an additional surge of lust over the news that Melissa would
soon be getting a belly full of canine semen.

"HE'S CUMMING!" Melissa screeched.

"DOBIE'S SHOOTING OFF INSIDE ME! OUTTASIGHT! CHRIST, HE'S GOT A LOT OF IT! IT'S 
LIKE A GEYSER GUSHING INTO ME... AAAAHH... IT'S SO HOT AND STICKY! ME TOO! I'M 
GOING OFF AGAIN! OOOOHHHH! I'M CUMMING. . AGAIN! OHH!"

"OOOOMMMMMM!" Harriet moaned through her passion-flared nostrils as her own loins 
exploded.

"UUUMMMM!" came Andy's muffled exclamation of delectation, as Harriet's furry cup of 
love rewarded him with a flood-like flow of colorless cunt-honey sweet as any he'd ever 
tasted. Suddenly he groaned into her snapping snatch, swallowing her juices even as his prick 
twitched out of control and presented her with the creamy reward for which she'd been so 
industriously working.

"MMMMM!" Harriet sighed involuntarily, when the first and most forceful jet of Andy's 
steaming ejaculate spiraled into her mouth all white and gluey-thick.

Harriet's damnedest wasn't good enough. Try as she did, gluttonous cocksucker that she 
was at the moment, he pumped his rusty load into her oral chamber faster than she could 
gulp it down. It built up until it swelled her cheeks and bulged her lips. When she could 
contain no more: Pppsssttt!

Out it came. In twin rivulets at the comers of her mouth. In whitish waves that washed 
luridly over her puffy red lips. Jism trickled down to Harriet's chin and stretched from the point
in a glutinous string that dangled and swayed obscenely before breaking and falling into the 
crisp hair of Andy's black triangle.
"SWALLOW IT, MOM! MELISSA DOES! DON'T WASTE HIS SPUNK!"

I'm swallowing fast as I can! Harriet thought, but she didn't voice a reply because to do so 
would've meant taking her mouth 'off Andy's erupting organ, and she wasn't about to do that.
She had no intention of losing any more of the woman-pleasing male nectar. Indeed not, for 
she craved all she could get of the scrumptious stuff! She got the rest of Andy's copious flow, 
too. He emptied his balls into her mouth and she drank the acrid cream greedily down. When 
his dong quit squirting, she continued to hold the head in her mouth, refusing to let it go until
she drained him of the final sluggish drops.

"NOW MINE, MOM! SUCK MY COCK, TOO!" Regan cried urgently, and he stuck his hotly 
pulsing stem in his mother's mouth the instant she raised her head, without even giving her a 
chance to catch her breath.

Not that Harriet was complaining. Despite the intensity of her orally-induced climax. Her 
twat was still twitching weakly-ingesting Andy's massive emission of scrumptious man-goo 
had excited her tremendously and left her hot and raring to go again.

"FUCK MY FACE, SON! RAM IT DOWN MOTHER'S THROAT!" she moaned around Regan's 
skinned back peckerhead as he stuffed it in her mouth.

"DURN RIGHT!" he squeaked and, grabbing a double handful of her brunette hair, he 
started humping away at the tight, pussy-like opening of her suctioning red lips, driving his 
rod hard and fast and deep, literally swabbing her throat with the enlarged head of his turgid 
penis.

He didn't last a full minute.

"NNNNNNAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!" Regan heaved a guttural groan. He jerked
his mother's head forward, mashing her face against his groin and cramming his stalk down 
her throat. His glans ballooned with a heartbeat-like rhythm, spitting out his load, not as large
as Andy's but even more priceless to Harriet because of its boyish sweetness and purity.

Amazingly, even after all that cumming, there wasn't a soft prick in the house. Seeing an 
attractive mother cop the knob of her own son had caught Andy's flagging passion and 
whipped it back to life, along with his phallus, which had drooped a little but was now 
standing at rigid attention again, like a soldier awaiting orders to action. Regan was simply too
excited to calm down; his dick was still bone-hard when he backed it from Harriet's 
sperm-drenched mouth. As for Melissa and the dog, well, they were still going at it and from 
the looks of the powerful Doberman Pinscher, he was just getting warmed up good!

"I LOVE TO FUCK!" Melissa cried.

"HELL YES, CUTIE PIE, AND SO DO I!" Harriet shouted with all the fervor of a holy roller at 
camp meeting just moved by the spirit. She'd been sitting on Andy's chest while she blew 
Regan, getting her buttocks licked by the darling man. Now she spun around, straddled him, 
grabbed his ferreous pole and aimed the spit-wetted head at the distended, dribbling crack of
her red-hot snatch. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! I WANNA GET FUCKED RIGHT NOW! I'M CRAVING 
COCK! GOTTA HAVE IT! THIS HUGE WOMB-JAMMING DORK MAY SPLIT ME IN HALF, BUT 
DAMNED IF I CARE! I'M GONNA SIT DOWN ON IT AND TAKE IT EVERY BIT INTO MY 
COCK-HUNGRY BELLY IF IT'S THE LAST FUCKIN' THING I EVERRR DDOOOOO!!!"

"SHIT, YES, HONEY, I HEAR YOU TALKIN'!" Andy bellowed as if through a bullhorn.
"NOW GET TO TRUCKIN'!"

All the yelling left Regan speechless. He stared at the others as if seeing them for the first 
time, especially Harriet. He just couldn't believe that his own mother could get so fired up and
carried away! Bug-eyed, he watched her wriggle her rump around and wedge the bluntly 
rounded forefront of Andy's enormous cockhead between the inflamed lips of her relatively 
small sex slot.

"AHH, CHRIST!" Harriet hissed. "IT'S TOO BIG! I WANT IT LIKE FURY BUT... OOUUU... I 
DON'T THINK... I CAN TA-TAKE IT!"

"MELISSA TAKES IT!" Regan told her. "IF SHE CAN, YOU SURE CAN, MOM! TRY, DAMN IT! I 
WANNA SEE IT GO INTO YOU!"

Harriet tried. More for her own sake than Regan's. She surely wanted Andy's huge hammer
inside her carnivorous crack. Clinging to the girthful shaft with one hand, bracing herself with 
the other on Andy's manly chest, she bore down harder.

"AAAH!" she whimpered, as the mushrooming glans probed deeper into her well lubricated 
opening, the size of it stretching her blood-engorged labia majora almost to the 
limit.

All but the broadly flared coronal ridge had disappeared when she paused, her face 
mirroring the pain/pleasure of forcing her sex wide open. The hair-rimmed orifice was like a 
tight rubber band around Andy's fat plum of a knob. Her coral libia themselves were no 
longer visible. They had folded into her body and were quivering with the strain of 
accommodating the huge bulb of masculine turgidity.

"IS IT... IN YET?" she asked.

"Almost," Andy said. "Don't stop now, honey." She shook her head, licked her lips. "I'M 
NOT... GOING TO STOP! I CAN TAKE IT, DARLING! I WANT IT! NEED IT!"

Sweat beaded her forehead and upper lip. She wriggled her rump, pressing down, harder, 
harder.

"AAARRRGGGHHH! " she cried, her face contorting with a blast of agony/ecstasy when the
remainder of Andy's bulging crown, the widest part of it, snapped into her dilated entrance 
like the male part of a giant clothes snap into its spring-steel female receptacle. "SOO BIG... 
OHHHH... GAWD, GAWD... IT'S HUGE!!!"

It was locked into her now, like a barbed gig in a frog, and Harriet couldn't have been 
happier about it. She let herself down slowly but surely, her cuntlips skidding submissively as 
she willfully impaled herself on the proud pylon. When her cunt had engulfed the top five 
inches, she paused again, gasping with bliss at the feel of his cockhead snuggling intimately 
up to the hypersensitive mouth of her womb.

"JUDAS PRIEST, I'LL NEVER TAKE IT ALL!" she whined.

But, wanting the rest of his horsecock as she'd never wanted anything in her entire life, she
increased the downward pressure, hoping to take the rest of it and make herself out a liar. 
Another inch slipped into her. His bulbous dome dislodged her uterus and nudged it higher 
into her heaving belly.

"MORE!" she hissed, and strove to get it.

She managed to take in another inch. There were two more to go.
"MORE, MORE!"

Gasping and moaning, she forced her already-stuffed twat to swallow the remaining two 
inches. These were the flared base of Andy's oversized member, and the thick, rubbery outer 
skin was covered with coarse wild hairs.

"AAA-GOD... MORE, MORE, MORE!" Harriet cried, even though the skewering pole 
penetrated her to the hilt, and it felt as if her womb had been pushed clear up into her chest.

"That's it, Harriet," Andy said with a grin. "You've done it, honey. You took it every bit!"

"MORE!" she screeched, rotating her hips, bouncing up and down. "MORE COCK! I WANT 
MORE COCK, GODDAMN IT! STUFF IT UP ME... TILL IT... AAAAHH... COMES OUT MY 
COCKSUCKIN' MOUTHHHH!!!"

Andy nodded. "Sure, honey, you'll get more cock." He winked at Regan. "Come on, son, it's
gonna take both of us to satisfy this hot-assed woman!"

At first the twelve-year-old didn't understand. He watched the man pull his mother down 
on top of him till her titties were flattened against his hairy chest. In this position, the crack of 
Harriet's behind stood open. Andy fingered up some natural lubricant from their joined 
genitals and smeared it over her exposed rectum. He stuck his finger up her asshole. Harriet 
moaned with the added pleasure. Regan got the idea. When Andy told him to hop on, he did 
so eagerly.

"I'M CUMMING!" Melissa trilled. "OH, DOBIE, YOU WONDERFUL DOG, YOU'RE BRINGING 
ME OFF AGAIN! CUMMING... OOOOH, OOOOH, I'M CU-CCCCCUUUUMMMMIIINNNGGGG!!!!"

"NNNAAAHHH!" Harriet groaned, shuddering rapturously as her little boy plunged his 
saliva-slickened peter balls deep into her secretion-greased butthole and started sodomizing 
her with turd-packing thrusts, rocking her about on the larger cock rammed up her ravenous 
snatch. "OHJESUSGOD... IT'S GLORIOUS... HAVING TWO DONGS IN ME AT ONCE... OOOUUU...
I LOVE IT, LOVE IT, LLOOVVEE IITTT!!!"

The lust-crazed housewife and mother swung into action. She humped joyously between 
the bodies of her son and lover, slamming her pussy down to Andy and her erogenous rectum
up to Regan. Time stood still for Harriet. She was in a world all her own, wallowing in the sinful
pleasures of the double fucking she was getting. She had no inkling of how long they 
remained lewdly locked together, the three of them fucking furiously together, but all of a 
sudden she was: "CCCCCUUUUUMMMMIIIINNNNGGGG...
OOOOOHHHHHH... UUNNN, UUNNN... WWWWWHHHHAAAAHHHHHHH!!!"

Her vagina clamped down on Andy's filling turgidity, squeezing it, wringing it; and her 
tight asshole snapped mindlessly at Regan's smaller peter, rapidly and harshly, as if the circular
muscle of her spasming anal sphincter meant to chew his darling young dong right off of him.

"MMMMMMM... OOOHHHH... UNG, UNG, UUNNGGGGG!!!!" Regan squealed helplessly, 
and his pecker began twitching, spitting cum up her shit chute.

The powerful convulsions of her silky sheath literally milked the steaming semen up from 
Andy's replenished testicles. "AAHHH... CHRIST, YOU'RE A GOOD FUCK, WOMAN!" he husked, 
and then he too was grunting in the typical male fashion, his enormous cock throbbing 
mightily as it spewed large jets of sticky hot sperm into the very depths of Harriet's heaving, 
sweat-soaked belly.

"HELP ME! GET DOBIE OFF ME! AAAHHH! PLEASE, PLEASE, I CAN'T... OOOHHH... STOP
CUMMING! IT HURTS NOW! AAAHHH! CUMMING! I'M CUUUUMMMIIINNNGGG... 
OOHHHHH... OH, PLEASE HELP ME! GET HIM OFF! MY TUMMY'S GETTING SO-SOREEEE!"

Melissa's piteously pleading for help brought the languishing threesome out of their 
dreamy afterglow. It made a sound not unlike the uncorking of a bottle when Regan hurriedly 
backed his semi-soft penis from his mother's tight butthole and rushed to his little 
sweetheart's aid. Following suit, Andy rolled over, quickly dumping Harriet onto her back even
as his long limbering dong retreated from the moist heat of her sperm-slippery pussy. Harriet 
in no wise complained, however, seeing as how it was an emergency. She struggled up, 
herself, wanting to do what she could to help Melissa, but by then Regan and Andy had 
rescued her, Regan having yanked the big dog off her, with Andy picking her up like a baby, 
patting her bottom, talking to her soothingly.

The girl was all right soon as she calmed down. She'd been frightened, was all, not harmed
in any way. She'd started having cums back to back, and the multi-orgasmic experience, being
a totally new phenomenon to the naive child, had caused her to panic.

As for the Doberman pinscher, he lay whining piteously where Regan had flung him, his 
head curled down under his belly, his tongue lapping at the long red bone of his feral erected 
penis.

"Poor Dobie," Melissa said. "He needs relief. Put me down, Daddy. I'll go jack him off."

"Why don't you take care of him, Harriet?" Andy asked with a knowing grin, having 
noticed the way Harriet couldn't keep her eyes off the animal's naked prick.

Harriet blushed. She shook her head no. But she was curious, couldn't help wondering, 
how it would be to take that tapering length of inflamed dog-dick in her hand. So when 
Melissa and Regan encouraged her to follow Andy's vulgar suggestion, she gave in and 
walked over to the suffering animal. She knelt beside Dobie. Her hand trembled excitedly as 
she reached out and took hold of his forbidden organ.

"Good grief, it is hot, isn't it, Melissa? Much hotter than a human penis!" Harriet said. 
Feeling pleasantly perverted, she began running her hand up and down the feverish, 
juicy-slick rod of canine turgidity.

Jerking off the pinscher affected Harriet more than she'd expected it would. She tried to 
hide her unnatural arousal from the others, but they could tell she was getting hot again.

"Let him fuck you, Mom," Regan suggested impishly. "Oh, precious, nooh!" Harriet 
demurred.
But she was temped. The naked length of heated dog-dick in her hand felt lovely. If it could 
make little Melissa cum so gloriously, it could do the same for her, and Harriet was in an 
incredibly sensual mood.

"Go on, Missus Burke, try it," Melissa urged. "I wanna see it, Mom!" Regan insisted.
"Let me help you onto your hands and knees, honey," Andy said. He put Melissa down and 
came over to Harriet.

With the three of them coaxing her, and Harriet secretly wanting to anyway, she
simply couldn't resist. Andy helped her into a kneeling position. Melissa helped Dobie mount 
her. Regan took the dog's slippery penis in his pudgy little boy's hand and guided its pointy 
tip to her hair-rimmed opening. Dobie locked his forelegs around Harriet's middle and arched
his back, impaling her on the entire length of his long tapering rod with one deft thrust.

"AAAAHH!" Harriet sighed, shivering with the illicit pleasure of it as the forbidden animal 
organ sank full into her clefted mound.

Dobie started hunching her fast and hard, his forelegs gripping her waist and his back 
arching rhythmically.

"YOU'RE RIGHT, MELISSA!" Harriet bleated. "IT DOESN'T FEEL... ANYTHING LIKE A MAN'S! 
GOD, HE'S REALLY FUCKING ME! I FEEL LIKE A BITCH IN HEAT! OHH, OHH... IT'S LOVELY! HIS 
COCK'S SO HHOOTTT!!!"

The other three were watching her. It gave Harriet a salacious thrill for them to see her this
way, especially her little boy. She rotated her rump lewdly, screwing with the big black and tan
Doberman pinscher, wickedly performing for her lover and son and his little girlfriend, and it 
caused her passion to soar.

"AHH, YES, YES, YESSSS!" she hissed. "FUCK ME, YOU MAGNIFICENT BEAST! I LOVE TO 
FUCK! I LOVE COCK! HUMP IT TO ME! IT'S GETTING BETTER AND BETTER! OH, GOD, YESSSS!!!"

The bobtailed rear end of the huge Doberman fairly flew back and forth, driving his skinny 
red prick like a piston within the sucking wet cylinder of Harriet's human vagina. What Dobie's
organ lacked in girth was more than made up for by its terrific heat and his vigorous thrusting
motions. He was fucking into her faster than any man alive could ever hope to do, this big 
panting dog, and how Harriet loved it!

Because of its tapering shape, Dobie's slippery length of jabbing prong made Harriet's 
hairy slot open and close around it several times per second. It felt like he was penetrating her
for the first time all over again each and every time he socked it home, plunging so deep into 
her rippling belly that the pointed tip poked at the very mouth of her bobbing womb.

"AAAAHH... OOOOHHH... OHJESUSGOD... IT'S GOOD... GGOOOODDDD!!!" Harriet cried,
blinking up at Andy and Regan and Melissa through slitted, lust-glazed eyes.

The canine's replenished balls drew up and quivered as they released their burdensome 
load. It formed in a lump at the base of his peter and began gliding jerkily up his pulsating 
shaft.

"HIS DICK'S GOT A BULGE ON IT!" Harriet rasped. "I CAN FEEL IT! HE'S GOING TO... 
OOOUUU... TO CUM! HE'S GOING TO SQUIRT HIS DOG-CUM INTO MEEEE!!!!"

The knot of entrapped jism popped rapid-fire in and out of Harriet's cuntal vestibule, 
making her blood-engorged sex petals flap luridly back and forth around it. Then it Was inside
her for good, moving steadily up the tapering shaft of his driving dong, pumping her silky 
vagina like a tight-fitting plunger, coming closer and closer to her orgasm-primed uterus.

"OHH, OHH, OHH!" Harriet sighed chantingly, her head drooping, her hair hanging down 
as she rocked frantically to and fro on her hands and knees, slamming her womanly rump 
back to the whining, ferally fucking animal.

The bulge of semen stopped a fraction of an inch behind the tip of Dobie's pecker.
It seemed to grow larger. Suddenly he let out a yelp and, hugging her tight with his forelegs, 
hunched all the way into her for the final time, his furry haunches flattening her resilient, 
milk-white asscheeks victoriously.

"NNNNAAAAHHHH!" Harriet cried, for the pointed glans of Dobie's power-driven dick had
speared right into the tiny opening of her sensitive cervix.

The big dog shuddered. His eyes were glassy. His slender red tongue hung out of his 
mouth, drooling saliva.

"WWWWWHHHHAAAAAHHHHH!!!!" Harriet shrieked, and she flung back her head, 
batting her eyelids. "HE'S CUMMING! OOHHHHH! HE'S OFF... INSIDE MMEEE!!!"

Indeed he was. The head was lodged in the neck of her pear-shaped uterus, the shaft 
pounding like a beating heart to pump out his load. It felt to Harriet like an eruption of white 
lava. He was a virtual reservoir of sticky hot jizz, and he was spewing it every bit right into her 
very womb, making that most feminine of all her female organs swell up like a balloon. The 
internal sensations were like nothing she'd ever experienced before in all her forty years of 
behaving herself as a lady.

"GOOD CHRIST, HE'S HOSING ME FULL OF IT! IT'S GONNA START RUNNING OUT OF MY 
EARS!"
Harriet whined. Then the flood-like inundation of superheated dog-sperm triggered her 
release mechanism. She sucked in her breath raggedly, began shuddering all over. "ME TOO... 
I'M CUMMING WITH HIM... OHH, GAWD, GAWD... CUMMING... I'M
CCCCUUUUUMMMMMIIIINNNNGGGG!!!! " Her inflated womb contracted harshly, forcing out 
a great mass of the animal ejaculate that'd been pumped into it. The stuff gushed out of her 
hairy hole in a frothy white wave that made her inflamed cuntlips flap obscenely around the 
nearly man-thick base of the dog's raw-red prong.

"OOOOOHHHHHH!!!! " Her belly heaved, dripping sweat. Her pussy snapped, drooling 
gluey strings of unholy mixture of man, dog and woman fuck juices.

"AAA A AAHHHHHH!!!!!"

It was glorious, this all-over climax which wickedly copulating with an animal was giving 
Harriet. Her flesh quaked helplessly. The ungodly pleasure of it rippled up and down her spine.
Even her toenails and hair roots were tingling with the carnal ecstasy of it.

"HHHAAA-LLLLLAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!" she shrilled, her head snapping from side to 
side as the back of it tried to dig in between her shoulder blades.

Then she went limp as a wet noodle, collapsed forward onto the rug and lay there sobbing
brokenly, shuddering uncontrollably.

Harriet and Regan did not go home that night. The next day they moved in with Andy and 
Melissa. How long the arrangement would last, none of them knew.

Harriet still hopes in her heart of hearts that her beloved husband is alive and will someday
return, that he will understand her terrible loneliness, forgive her and take her back, for all she 
ever wanted was to be Curt's wife and Regan's mother, the three of them living a normal, 
decent, happy existence.

But the flesh is weak, and events conspired against Harriet. As Andy had said, People have 
got to go on with the business of living, haven't they? And make the best of it.


THE END
