Mother's Strapping Son
by Erika Norman
(RX-615)


FOREWORD 

For "incest," The American College Dictionary offers the following 
definition: "The crime of sexual intercourse between persons related by 
blood or marriage within the degrees in which marriage is prohibited." 

In the section on "Normal and Abnormal Sexual Behavior" in The Handbook of 
Psychiatry by Philip Solomon and Vernon D. Patch, the authors explain: 

"Incest refers to sexual activity or coitus between members of the same 
family. It usually refers to coitus between father and daughter, mother and 
son, or between siblings, but it may involve other close relatives such as 
stepchildren or uncles. The ban against incest is one of the most stringent 
of sexual prohibitions in all cultures." 

"Normally, oedipal incestuous strivings of childhood are gradually resolved 
and replaced by adult sexuality. If they remain dominant in adulthood, 
neurotic conflicts manifested by psychosexual disturbances and deviations 
may result. Owing to the social taboo against incest, an individual who 
actually carries out the incestuous wish is usually suffering from an ego 
defect and is often psychotic." 

Mother and son sexual relationships are not uncommonly uncovered in clinical 
practice. 

Mild incestuous behavior in siblings is common in preadolescence as sex 
play, and is harmless; if it occurs later, it may be an indication of 
serious neurotic conflict. 

The future of the son in these mother-son cases is variable, but severe 
psychopathology is not as frequent as used to be thought. 

In this, Erika Norman's newest novel, she again turns to the theme of mother 
and son incest. Her fictionalized account of this commonplace taboo-breaking 
sexual expression of love follows the slow degeneration of Honey Jacobson's 
moral inhibitions until she finds herself victim to her own young son's 
burgeoning physical presense. 

That her young son Harold reminds her of her deceased husband in every 
respect, especially anatomical, only drives her more headlong into the 
free-flowing life of shame, sin and hedonistic pleasures. 

How her wantonness, with the help of a patient, gentle, understanding-while 
still thoroughly masculine-professional man finally is brought under control 
is the climax of this powerful novel. 

A deeper understanding of the incest taboo against mother and son sexual 
relations could only benefit us all. 

THE PUBLISHERS 

 CHAPTER ONE 

Hard, his cock was enormous. It was almost too big, and it was virile and 
capable-looking and roped with heavy veins through which fresh hot blood 
surged, making it fill to even larger dimensions and throb with a vital life 
all its own. 

Despite how morally shocking the sight was to her. Honey Jacobson could 
hardly draw her eyes away from the degrading scene brought to sharp focus in 
living color in the monitors of her hidden-camera television surveillance 
security system. Almost involuntarily, Honey found herself reaching down, 
her hesitant fingertips slipping far up under her dress and into the legband 
of her suddenly too-tight panties and touching her moist secret flesh. 

They didn't call her Hot-Box Honey for nothing, thought the people who gave 
her the nickname were people in the customizing trade. In reality it meant a 
hot gear box, for ease of shifting in racers or in off-road vehicles. At 
thirty-five, Honey Jacobson was the undisputed queen of off-road vehicles in 
Southern California. Her extensive shop, Jacobson's Custom Body and 4WD 
Oasis, was known to car buffs all over the world, and it was one of the 
largest operations of its kind anywhere. 

The elaborate television security system hadn't been installed for any 
voyeuristic purpose and, originally, Honey had objected to hiding a camera 
there, in the men's toilet, of all places. She felt the men who worked in 
her shop were entitled to a little privacy. 

It was the insurance company, directing the installation, who insisted, 
finally convincing Honey that the men would least expect one to be there and 
would, thereby, let down their guards. If they were involved in ripping the 
shop off, it would be first discovered in the secrecy of the men's crapper. 

Hot-Box Honey's finger touched moisture where the freshly minted juices of 
her cunt were pushing out through the lips of it and gathering in the crack 
of her ass and making a damp spot grow steadily across the seat of her 
passion-pink bikini panties. 

Her fingertip grazed the lips of her cuntal mouth and they fluttered 
noticeably to her touch, gaping slightly as if begging for her to slip her 
finger right on inside and stroke her palpitating clit. 

She did. Touching the delicately sensitive passion flesh of her 
blood-engorged clitoris delicately at first, then more brazenly as the 
ecstatic sensations she was causing by the fleshy contact were transmitted 
to Honey's brain. 

She gasped and reached for the television control knob with her free hand, 
unable to release the pleasant pressure on her clit with the other, and 
brought the zoom lens into play, centering the object of her fascination on 
the television screen and bringing it, again, into sharp, living flesh 
focus. 

Horse Zumwalt's horse-like cock! 

The arrogant young blond, Wilhelm Zumwalt, was almost a typical Nazi as far 
as Honey could determine ... and he was young. Anyone ten years younger than 
Honey was just a kid to her most of the time. That Horse Zumwalt was 6'3" 
and a solid 180 pounds, mostly muscle, didn't register as anything desirable 
to Honey. Not at all. His longish blond hair and sky-blue eyes didn't help 
any, either. 

He was just too much man for her. Again, looking at the size of his 
enormously distended cockflesh confirmed her position. Too gross for words. 
Why, that revolting looking thing was at least ten inches long! The 
television lenses could be enlarging the size of his cock a bit for her, she 
couldn't be sure. But whatever its length, it was certainly more than any 
normal woman chould ever be expected to accommodate. 

Hot-Box Honey preferred smaller built men. She wanted someone to be gentle 
with her and hold her warmly in their arms, naked and pulse-pounding and 
ready to make gentle, soothing love to her all night long. Someone whose 
cockflesh wasn't so rough looking or huge. Whose dick wasn't garlanded with 
veins of blood but was, still, almost boyish and virginal. 

A man whose balls were there and big enough to please and pleasure her, but 
certainly not testicles as huge as Horse's. Each of them, separately, looked 
to her to be about as big as a turkey eggs, hanging full and heavy inside 
his coarsely haired ballsac. She suddcred at the thought of those huge 
manfuck balls banging relentlessly up against her asshole as Horse pounded 
his impossibly huge fuckshaft into her feverish cunt again and again. 

Her finger deserted her clit and slid deep into the soft velvety depths of 
her cunt, worming around and stroking all of the walls, moving over the 
varying planes pf her secret inner flesh like passion's very own blowtorch, 
heating her already overheated fuck box to white hot intensity. 

She gasped aloud and sighed, working her finger in and out of her cunt hole 
furiously, her eyes riveted to Horse Zumwalt's cock on the television 
monitor. 

Horse was alone in the men's washroom, that was obvious. Honey had already 
been watching him for almost fifteen minutes. First he had opened his pants 
and uncoiled the limp length of his dick so he could let it hang down over 
his hand as he held it before the closest urinal. Horse grunted as the 
stream of his piss began slowly to appear, forcing open the cocklips at the 
head of his big wide dick with a sharp yellow stream that struck solidly 
against the back of the white porcelain urinal. 

When he had finished pissing and forced out three sharp, short final splurts 
of yellow fluid, Horse, instead of putting his dick back inside his pants, 
opened them and pulled them down to his knees, and his soil-streaked white 
cotton briefs, too. 

For just a minute Honey Jacobson thought that Horse might be actually posing 
for the camera, though no one but Honey and the man from the insurance 
company knew where it was for sure. Still, Horse never once took a position 
that blocked his dick flesh off from Hot-Box Honey's hot view. It was always 
right there in full sight, unfolding and unreeling like some fisherman's 
telescoping rod. 

A rod of flesh pink manfuck. 

Horse's cockhead was bigger and wider than anything Honey had ever seen 
before. It looked something like a huge apricot, only pinker, almost angry 
red in fact, where it blossomed out broadly at the end of his fuckshaft. 

Honey could clearly see how it was almost divided, segmented into two halves 
of apricot and the single eye in the head of his huge dick, gaping and 
gasping now and then like the mouth of a big fish out of water, looked like 
the very end of the apricot. 

Almost. 

His cock looked like one of her favorite fruits, but Honey gagged at the 
comparison of thought. The very idea of getting her face close to that 
horrid appendage was revolting to her. She coughed and sputtered, gasping 
for air ... she was having another orgasm. 

Her finger was buried solidly inside her cunt. She had paused with it right 
there, her hand firmly rubbing against her clit and the funky juices of her 
fuck flesh pouring out around her finger liberally, making the seat of her 
sweet little panties actually soggy and soiled beyond recovery. But what did 
the panties matter, compared to a cum as glorious as the one her talented 
finger was giving her tortured clitoris, all inspired by the sight of Horse 
Zumwalt's really fantastic fuck stick. 

It wasn't that Horse was beating off. Not at all. It didn't seem that fist 
fucking was his objective. All he seemed to be doing was examing his massive 
genitalia, again and again. 

He'd bend far back, hunched down so the camera could catch every wrinkle, 
every freckle of his secret sex flesh, and put his hand tightly up under his 
cock and balls, lifting all three of them out of the way. The camera could 
actually zoom in under Horse's hand. 

Under Horse's cock and balls. 

And slip almost right inside Horse's revolting old asshole. 

Then Horse released one ball. Just one; his lowest testicle. Still holding 
his fuckshaft out of the way with the first hand, he turned his ball around 
and around, pointing it at the camera from every possible angle, running his 
fingers through his coarse, wiry red prick hairs, then letting his ball fall 
down, bouncing heavily under its own weight until it came to rest, finally. 

Horse took his other ball, the higher one, and gave it the same treatment, 
still holding the huge bulk of his cock out of camera's way, until he was 
satisfied that his second ball was just as perfect as his first, then he 
released it also, allowing it to bob to a relaxed position there between his 
firm-fleshed, coarse haired thighs. 

His cock! 

His enormous horse cock! 

How aptly he's named. Honey thought, forgetting completely that her own 
handle was Hot-Box Honey. 

Horse took his overly enlarged cock and pointed it straight at the camera, 
hunching his hips forward fuck-fashion a couple of times. then turning to 
the profile and hip-hunching again, forcing his dick to extend itself out 
farther for yet another quarter inch of rigid, blood-filled manfuck flesh. 

He turned his cock around slowly and lovingly, until the underside of it was 
pointed toward the camera, the gentle ridge line of darker flesh traceable 
from the root of his cock, there between his heavy balls, all the way out to 
the incredible apricot cockhead, before it disappeared and merged into 
pinker, hot-reder flesh that ended, finally, some three inches further out, 
in the form of a single one-eyed blush of masculine pride. The gaping mouth 
of his fuck stick. 

Honey had another orgasm, just looking at the head of Horse's cock and 
watching as it, holding motionless, winked at her. The tiny slit just on the 
end of it seemed to grin and split wide and one huge heavy drop of pearly 
pre-cum oozed out and dribbled down the bottom side of his broad cockhead, 
leaving a glistening, snail-like trail of cum in its wake. 

"Oh, God," Honey said, gasping and moaning aloud, her sounds growing 
completely inaudible and dribbling off into faint murmurings of 
uncontrollable passion. 

Her finger came to rigid awakening inside her cunt and, even though it ached 
and pained from the unaccustomed bend and rigidity, she began moving it 
around again, massaging the soft, buttery depths of her cuntal mouth with 
her digit, swirling up the copious fluids and forcing more of them out, 
around her finger, to run down her hand to her wrist. 

"Oh, nunnngh!" Honey hummed, hunching against her hand. 

Her finger slipped easily in and out of the slippery cunt hole, each move 
striking against her clit that was standing out in rigid outline, rubbed so 
much it was becoming super-sensitized to the touch and just the merest 
pressure of her finger, sliding across it, would make her knees grow weaker 
and the shuddering start all over again. 

"Oh, God," she said, her knees almost ready to give way beneath her, forcing 
her fucked-out body to fall, limp, to the floor. 

Almost but not quite. 

Slowly Horse began turning around on the television screen. He did it very 
slowly so it took a long time for the whole long length of his cock, now 
shown in profile, to turn away from Hot-Box Honey's hot gaze. Finally it was 
all gone from her sight, the big cock and the big balls and all. the tangled 
mass of almost red pubic hairs. 

And Horse's ass was centered, perfectly, on Honey Jacobson's television 
screen. 

Horse bent forward, awkwardly because of his pants and underwear binding his 
ankles together, forcing his ass up toward the camera. When it was pointed 
dead center toward the lens, Horse put a hand on either of his cheeks and 
slowly began pulling the hunky chunks of buttocks apart, opening the crack 
of his ass to the camera as easily as pulling the skin off a banana. 

The whole feverish crack of his ass opened up before Honey's astonished gaze 
until the puckered brown rosette of his asshole was dead center of the 
screen. 

Then his asshole winked at her. 

She was sure she saw it. The whole clenched tight ring of his ass seemed to 
unpucker, like a camera shutter opening, until the hole of his anus opened 
wide and Honey was staring down into a dark tunnel of forbidden funkiness. 
She could almost smell the horrible, fetid odor of him. 

Her mouth went suddenly dry and gaped open in astonishment. Somehow Honey 
had never even thought of anyone winking with their asshole. Certainly she 
had never thought of anyone being able to open their anus at will, or to 
hold it open as if posing for still cameras. 

As she continued to watch, her fascinated gaze held fast to Horse's gaping 
asshole, he bent farther forward with his head until his face appeared 
betwen his wide-spread thighs, right beside his double mounded balls and big 
thick fuckshaft. 

Horse winked at the camera in synchronization with the fluttering of his 
asshole. 

Honey found herself having another orgasm. The tightly clenching muscles 
deep inside her cunt were clamped against her finger as if they would never 
let it go. Her juices were boiling inside her and reaching higher cum levels 
than ever before. 

She was too weak from all the nervous sexual tension of the previous several 
minutes. Unconsciously she began wavering and her vision blurred. Honey put 
out her hand to steady herself against the edge of her desk. 

Don't fall, she told herself, pulling her finger free of her still spasming 
cuntal mouth and wiping some of the funkiness off onto her already ruined 
bikinis. 

She began a deep breathing exercise, trying to force herself back to what 
passed for normal to her, as she watched Horse straighten up and turn around 
again, facing the camera once more. His big cock had begun to weaken and 
grow limp, but it was still larger than any man's dick had any right to be. 

Honey shuddered and dragged in a heavier breath, fighting back the nausea 
that accompanied the sight of Horse's shrinking sexflesh. 

Finally his dick reached a size he felt might pass for normal so he, slowly 
and reluctantly, began pulling up his underwear. He snuggled the tell-tale 
gray cotton briefs up around his hips and, as a final gesture, carefully 
scooped his balls down under the tight elastic waistband, leaving his heavy, 
fleshy prick hanging out over the top of the elastic. 

He bounced up and down, causing his cockshaft to flop around wildly, then he 
scooped it carefully down inside, reaching into his underwear to arrange the 
way it hung so it couldn't conflict too much with his two heavy balls, then 
Horse bent down and pulled up his pants, bringing them into position and 
zipping them up. 

All of his fuck flesh was finally hidden from her. 

Honey sighed deeply and began, finally, to relax, her deep breaths working 
now that his cock was hidden from view. 

Without once looking back at the camera, Horse walked to the door of the 
men's crapper, his trim ass, buttock undulating, drawing her eyes to it like 
a sex magnet, until he went out of the door and the television screen showed 
her only the empty men's room. 

Honey reached out and flipped the switch that turned the screen off. 
Exhausted, she fell forward, too, cradling her head on her arms. Her fuck 
finger was right under her nose and she inhaled the heady perfumes of her 
own pussy and could feel the moisture of her crotch against her cheek. 

Oh, God, she thought. This is so awful. I need a man of my own so very much. 
A cock to have and hold and pleasure.... 

Honey had had her own man, once. Some sixteen years earlier. She'd just been 
a kid herself, almost, when she married Harold Jacobson, older than her by 
eight years but, as they said at the time, "a good catch." 

A good catch, hell, she thought. He had been the single most disappointing 
experience of her entire lifetime, the way he ripped into her crudely, 
tearing into her flesh without the slightest regard for her feelings, her 
desires. 

It was that way every day of their life, even after it was determined that 
she was pregnant, even her menstrual flow or her pregnancy didn't deter 
horny Harold from his fucking. 

And their baby had been born and, before she left the hospital, her husband 
had filed for divorce, naming their landlord as her lover and calling her an 
unfit mother. 

Harold won his lawsuit, of course. He knew the judge. He won their baby, 
too, and had him removed before Honey was released from the hospital. She 
never saw either of them again. 

Fortunately there had been all that money settled on her and, investing it 
wisely, she was finally able to open the one little shop that specialized in 
upholstery and carpets for vans, only her business was so good it pyramided 
and she kept moving, changing locations, growing larger, until Jacobson's 
Custom Body and 4WD Oasis came into being, a fantastically successful shop 
that was bringing in money faster than Honey could spend it, but she only 
had herself and the business to take care of. 

No man. No cock. No love of her own. 

Even her apartment, just an extension of her office, really, at the top of 
the main showroom, was built there so she could act as her own night 
watchman. Her insurance company had heartily approved of the physical plan 
of her living, working space, and the half city block the Oasis dominated. 

If she had a man to share her success with, to share her body with, 
everything would be absolutely perfect for Hot-Box Honey Jacobson. As it 
was, her brief experience with Harold Jacobson when she had been but a 
teenager herself had all but spoiled her for anything but the most 
superficial male-female relationship. 

She was afraid that every man she met was like her ex-husband, interested in 
only one thing, sinking his big hard cock into her sweet young body and 
emptying his cum out into her, quickly and cruelly, not even giving her time 
for her love juices to flow, to lubricate her violated cunt for love's own 
sweet passage of flesh within flesh. 

A classic "wham bam, thank you, ma'am" male chauvinistic pig fuck. 

Since the birth of the son she had never seen, no male had felt the 
pleasurable firepit of Hot-Box Honey's cuntal cavern. She had come close 
that time with the gentleman from the insurance company, when he had come 
out and inspected her apartment on the corner of the building over the 
off-road vehicle showroom, walking through the two-bedroom, two-bath unit 
from the living room to the fully functional kitchen with the big double 
doors opening directly into Honey's private Oasis office where her desk and 
her files and all the television equipment was located ... that time Honey 
had been tempted. 

She had thought so often of having a man, the right man, to share her humble 
home with that she was almost willing to grasp at straws. But the solid 
fleshed insurance investigator had been nothing like straw at all. The 
minute it was obvious to him that Honey was receptive of a little roll in 
the hay, he turned on. 

He became all male, hard-on and horny and hot to fuck. Just like that. 
Harold Sr. all over again. Honey had a little difficulty getting him out of 
the apartment without fucking her, too. 

If anything, she had a slight fondness for her attorney, Rogers M. Dalton. 
He had always been so kind to her, taking care of all her legal matters and 
keeping her out of trouble with the authorities. Too bad she hadn't had him 
on her side way back then, when Harold was divorcing her and bringing in all 
those ridiculous lies before the court and actually making them stick. 

Honey was sure, deep in her heart of hearts, that Rogers Dalton would be a 
man among men in bed. A lover of the very first order. A real man who would 
put her needs and her desires ahead of his hateful lusts and bring her to, 
at least arousal if not orgasm, before tearing into her to take his fill of 
her sensuous flesh. 

But even in her fantasy of fucking with her attorney, Honey never allowed 
herself the slightest thought that he would tear into her cunt with his hot, 
hard cock. No indeed, he always slipped it to her very gently, until she was 
ready for it to begin the in-out rhythms as old and familiar as time itself. 

Honey tried to shake the thoughts of her sexless condition out of her mind 
and get back to the present. She peeled her panties off and tossed them into 
the wastepaper basket. They were so soiled it would be useles attempting to 
clean them so she could use them again. 

She sat back in her office chair, relaxing against the cool leather caress 
of her body, enjoying the way the seat seemed to cup he fragile buttocks 
lovingly. She squirmed around in the chair, examining the peculiar new 
sensations of her body and dress, without panties, against the fine glove 
leather upholstery. 

Deciding that she couldn't keep her head in her crotch all the day, Honey 
reached out and turned some of the knobs operating the television security 
system. The one she just happened to turn on was the camera over the loading 
dock, where Horse Zumwalt worked. 

Staring at his gross, hunky body brought the sharp clear image of his cock 
roaring back into her already exhausted fuck fantasies. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

It was almost as if his pants were down around his ankles again. Once she 
had seen Horse Zumwalt's incredibly huge cock and balls, it was impossible 
for her not to see them stuck on him every time she looked at him after 
that. Regardless of what he happened to be wearing or not wearing at the 
time. 

His cock stretched out in front of his flat belly well over half a foot. 
Actually her mind kept telling her it was more like a foot, but reason 
prevailed. No man had that much cock. Certainly no normal man did; why there 
wasn't a woman alive who could handle that much hot. hard manfuck pole 
jammed tightly into her unprepared pussy. 

Honey Jacobson looked at Wilhelm Zumwalt closely on the television serene. 
Actually, in a piggish way, he wasn't really bad looking, but when you put 
his gross, overwhelming physical presence together with the mental attitude 
about life, and especially about the place of women, Horse Zumwalt received 
an instantaneous rejection from Honey. 

He was the best shipping clerk she had ever had, though. More is the pity. 
Honey desperately wanted to fire the arrogant, crotch-fondling, overbearing 
male. 

She tore her eyes away from him and looked at the driver of the Triad 
Trucking Company vehicle that was already loaded and ready to pull out, 
taking six of her very best custom outfitted vans off to a new-car dealer in 
Tucson. 

The driver was somewhat shorter than Horse, and not nearly as heavy. Honey 
preferred the leaner look on her males. The perfect image of the perfect 
cock, in her estimation, was one of trimness, rather than girth. 

She had never seen him before, even though the Arizona based Triad firm did 
lots of hauling to and from the Oasis. Still it was just as well. Honey 
could tell from the heavy comradeship that seemed to radiate outward from 
the two men. Horse put his arm warmly around the strange driver's shoulder 
and they both broke into laughter. 

It was obviously something about fucking, Honey correctly surmised, judging 
from the gross way Horse began rubbing his crotch, stroking down in long 
movements, caressing his own fuckflesh. 

The other driver climbed into the big Kenworth car hauler and closed the 
door, leaning out over the TRIAD sign to wave goodbye to Horse. 

Honey watched Horse watch the big truck purr into life and move easily out 
onto Groveton Boulevard, heading for the cross-town freeway then out across 
the desert all the way to Arizona. , Horse turned back toward the hidden 
security camera and stroked his dick again. Honey was almost positive she 
could see the whole long length of the man's horsecock stretching out and 
taking definite shape along his well-muscled thigh. 

"Goddamnit," Honey said aloud, the frustration of her too many unfucked 
nights catching up with her again. 

Involuntarily, her unpantied bottom began moving around on the soft leather 
upholstery. Her skirt moved gently upward because of her hip movement until 
the bare skin of her naked buttocks came into contact with the caressing 
leather. 

Honey sighed and moved her legs apart as wide as she could, stopped only by 
the arms of the big executive chair. Her cunt was still moist and oozie from 
the vision she had been forced to watch before of Horse's careless 
examination of his fuck flesh in the safety of the men's washroom. 

She bent her head as far forward as she could without it becoming 
uncomfortable and looked down at her crotch. The pretty pink tissues of her 
pussy were passionately aroused and poking through the opening of her cuntal 
lips. The spread position of her legs seemed to force the lips to open 
further, exposing more and more of her secret inner flesh. From the angle of 
her vision, her clitoris stretched out like a tiny flesh shrouded finger, 
already filled with blood and tensing with anticipation. 

Down lower she could see her fuck hole. The almost unused passion passageway 
of her pussy that so yearned for the right cock to fill it to overflowing 
with hot hard manflesh at first then oh, God, then, with sizzling hot 
freshly ejected mancum. The ultimate essence of lovemaking. 

As she watched, the walls of her cunt contracted involuntarily and all her 
exposed flesh moved around, living its own involuntary life. It was hot-pink 
and moist and radiating a fever and an aroma that was designed to attract 
males, not Honey's solitary inspection. 

The tiny trickle of fuck juices oozed outward from her pussy hole and 
trinkled down over her super-hot cuntal tissues to disappear under the crack 
of her ass where she was grinding it, surely, into the grain of the leather 
seat. 

Already the little puddle beneath her was making her buttocks move around 
more rapidly, slipping and sliding on the slippery upholstery. 

She could stand it no longer, the going without a cum. It was impossible to 
ignore the clarion call of her clitoris as it screamed volumes of unreleased 
agony inside her listening brain. 

Honey sobbed audibly and let her eyes slip out of focus. They were still 
watching the television set where Horse was now leaving through some bills 
of lading on a clipboard. She hardly even saw his brutely masculine form any 
more, her attention was so urgently needed elsewhere. 

Her cunt! 

Her fuck-starved, cockless cunt! 

As she blinked her eyes, closing Horse's last image out of her 
consciousness, Honey slipped her right hand forward, finger poised, and 
stroked it just once, feather-lightly, over the mouth of her exposed 
clitoris. 

Her pussy spasmed violently in the first orgasm of the session and more 
cuntjuice dribbled out onto the expensive leather chair. 

Honey gasped aloud at the pleasure, "Oh, God!" and began making little 
circles around her clitoris, massaging her cuntal flesh in earnest now, 
making her hips jerk and jump on the seat and her buttocks clinch together 
then release, together then release. 

The little string of nonstop cums rocked her from side to side, both 
physically and mentally, and she discovered that she was humming deep inside 
her throat, a low-pitched purring like a contented cat. 

A pussy cat. 

Finally the feelings begn to get to be too good for her so she hunched her 
hips forward just to the edge of the chair. In that position her legs could 
open wider, further stretching apart the cuntal lips that usually closed 
protectively over the pulsating flesh of her fuck hole. 

With plenty of room to operate, Honey let her finger ease inside her cunt 
and work up the lather just a bit. 

Then a second finger moved all the way up into her fuck hole beside its 
mate. 

A third finger moved into her widening cuntal crevice. 

Then, much to her surprise, she moved the fourth finger all the way into her 
drooling snatch. 

Can I get the thumb in, too? she asked herself mentally, folding her hand in 
upon itself and making room for her thumb between her fingers. 

Gritting her teeth in pleasure pain. Honey slowly forced her hand back into 
her cunt, her thumb and all four fingers disappearing up inside her pretty 
pink pussy all the way to the last joints. 

Try as she could, she couldn't move more of her hand into her fuck hole. 
Tiring of the attempt, it wasn't significantly more pleasurable than what 
she had been doing anyway, Honey pulled her hand out and raised it to her 
face, looking at the slick streaks of cunt juice glistening on it. 

She smelled of her secret fluids, sniffing of the juices that were generated 
deeply inside her cuntal walls, then inhaling the heady fragrance gleefully, 
as if intoxicated in her own fuck smell. 

Wonder what it tastes like? Hot-Box Honey thought, smelling her pussy scent. 

To have some ardent lover eating out her cunt had long been one of her 
favorite fantasies. She could almost feel the touch of his tongue laving her 
clit repeatedly then slipping down lower to move, full-length, into her cunt 
until his nose banged again and again against her clitoris, bringing her 
more cums than she could handle all at once. 

She tentatively reached out her tongue and touched the tip of it to her 
thumb, where the most of her pussy juice seemed to be gathered. Wow, that's 
good, she thought, and began licking at her hand, trying to gather up and 
savor all her fuck fluid she could. Each drop of it, going down her throat, 
seemed to signal the need for more to be manufactured inside her sheltered 
snatch. 

The smell, combined withthe flavorings of her pussy juices, seemed to force 
Honey to rush into yet another orgasm. She tore her hand away from her face 
and hunched forward again, making room for her finger against her clit. 

She was playing ring-around-the-rosy-nubbin when the telephone at her side 
begin to ring shrilly. For just a moment Honey though it was the sound of 
ecstasy going off inside her head, along with going off inside her spasming 
cuntal chamber because just at that frozen moment of time, her next orgasm 
began shifting into full speed. 

Sobbing slightly, annoyed at the disturbance, Hot-Box Honey pulled her right 
hand out of her pussy and picked up the telephone with it. The odors of her 
fuck, now grown even headier, assailed her nostrils anew as she held the 
receiver up against her fragile little ear. 

"Yes-s-s," she said, stuttering slightly, gasping for breath from all her 
exhaustive sexual activity. 

"Miss Jacobson?" a voice said into her ear, 'is that you?" 

"Yes, who is this, please?" Honey said, forcing her voice to try to sound 
normal. 

"This is Rogers Dalton, Miss Jacobson," he said. "Are you all right?" 

"Why of course. Why shouldn't I be all right?" Honey asked. 

"Oh, I don't know," Attorney Dalton said. "Something about your voice made 
me ask. You sound ... well, perhaps a bit under the weather." 

"It's nothing, really," Honey said. "Perhaps just the trace of a head cold." 

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," he said. "I dc hope-it clears up shortly. 
Colds can be really bad this time of the year." 

"I'll be extra careful," Honey said, turning her head aside to sniff 
directly against her hand holding the phone, dragging the funky sex scents 
of her deep into her lungs. 

"I telephoned you with hesitation, Miss Jacobson.." he began, allowing his 
words to grow faint and trail off into nothingness. 

"Yes," Honey Jacobson said, her mind detecting something amiss with her 
attorney, "do go on...." 

"I've spent over half an hour rehearsing what I've got to say to you, Miss 
Jacobson," he said, "but there just doesn't seem to be an easy way to 
begin." 

"Okay, Mr. Dalton," Honey said, the scent of her snatch suddenly gone from 
her nostril, her attention devoted completely to the man at the other end of 
the telephone line, "just jump into it and let me have it squarely." 

"Yes, perhaps that's the best way," he said, but he still paused for a bit 
before continuing. 

"Do you have a son, Miss Jacobson?" he asked. 

"Well, yes," Honey said, but even she had to think for a moment before 
saying those two words, "only I've never seen him. Funny, but he's almost 
entirely out of my mind. 

"Yes," he said, "that would support the data I have." 

"Why do you ask?' Honey said, her curiousity teased alarmingly. 

"I hope it doesn't become too inconvenient for you, Misser, perhaps I should 
say Mrs. Jacobson?" he said. 

"Yes, yes, go on," she said, "only, surely by now, Mr. Dalton, you could 
risk trying to call me Honey." 

"In that case, it's Rogers here, Honey," he said, but rushed right on with 
his story. "Your ex-husband has just recently been killed in a hunting 
accident up in Canada. Your son, Harold Jr. was with him at the time, though 
he's not harmed. Nothing that is beyond a little shock at seeing his father 
dead from a gunshot wound, a bit messy, I suspect." 

"I'm sorry to hear that," Honey said, still wondering what Rogers Dalton's 
comments could really have to do with her. 

"Of course, as the only living relative, even though the original court 
decision, as I understand, took the child away from you, you are still the 
natural mother and, regrettably, will now have to resume guardianship of 
your son." 

"What?" Honey said, the words, rather than being disappointments to her, 
were filling her with a new hope, a fresh purpose in life. At last she might 
have the chance to be a real mother. 

"Yes, he'll be arriving here in my office on Tuesday afternoon around 3:30. 
It'd be best if you could be here then. There are a few routine forms to be 
signed, nothing too difficult, then Harold Jr. can go home with you." 

"Oh, my God," Honey said, hardly believing her ears. "This isn't some kind 
of cruel joke, is it?" 

"No, I'm afraid it's all too true. As of next Tuesday afternoon, you will 
have resumed full responsibility for your fifteen-year-old son." 

"Oh, but what'll I do?" Honey asked. "I've never been a mother before. I 
don't know the first thing about it. How to help him with his schooling, 
what clothes to buy for him, how to feed him...?" 

Rogers began laughing, then stopped to say, "Hey, Honey, don't get too 
excited about all this. The boy's fifteen years old already. In some places, 
that's already well into manhood. I don't think you'll have too much trouble 
coping. Chances are, he'll tell you how he wants most things. If I remember 
correctly, fifteen year olds are not only pretty demanding but they're also 
doing a lot of rapid growing." 

"Oh, but there's hardly anything on hand here to eat," Honey said. 

"Then I suggest you make a trip to the grocery and stock up, Honey," Rogers 
said. 

"Growing boys can eat everything they get close to." 

Just as he said those words, Honey's hot-box spasmed, all by itself, and a 
little chain of spontaneous cums fluttered along the fuck channel of her 
well-lubricated cuntal walls. 

Eat anything? The words flashed through Honey's mind in a depraved, 
lecherous way. Oh, God, not that. Don't let me start having sexual fantasies 
about a little child I've never even seen. Especially about my very own 
little boy. My son. Christ, that's incest. 

The final degradation, the foulest of sins. 

INCEST! A mother fucking her own son, the flesh of her flesh, the blood of 
her blood. ' The little cums stopped tormenting her pussy and the rippling 
pleasures subsided quickly. 

Rogers Dalton hadn't even noticed she'd been away from their conversation 
for the length of a cum. 

"Then it's settled?" he asked. "You'll be here Tuesday afternoon to make the 
necessary arrangements and pick your son up?" 

"Oh, yes, Rogers," Honey said. "Right now I can't think of anything that 
could stop me." 

"It'll be a pleasure to see your anyway, Honey," Rogers said, trying to 
prolong their conversation. "I've been looking around for an excuse for some 
time now, but you just seem to never need your attorney's attention." 

Honey was flattered, of course. If she only had nerve enough to tell her 
handsome attorney just exactly how much of his attention she'd like to have. 
He was, after all, one of the very few men who inspired kindly thoughts in 
Honey Jacobson's otherwise fucked-up head. 

She had always seen him as being extraordinarily kind and gentle. She had 
even spent some time wondering what he looked like, his body, naked, Surely 
his genitalia would not be anything like the debased appendages attached to 
Horse Zumwalt. No, it just wasn't possible, Honey was sure that Rogers 
Dalton's cock would be just right for her, alwasy ready to please her, to do 
whatever it was Honey wanted her man's dick to do for or to her ... but 
gently. 

There's no way he could try to just jam it up inside her, dry and harsh and 
ripping, tearing into her fragile and unprepared cuntal tissues. 

The little throbbings began anew, starting at her clit-tip and vibrating 
down the length of it to her mons then spiraling around in little circles, 
moving around and around the soft buttery tissues of her cuntal wall to 
reach the very mouth of her womb, and she spasmed into wild new orgasms. 
They were so strong that for a moment she lost control and began mumbling 
incoherently, making audible sounds. 

"Honey," Rogers said, "are you sure you're all right?' 

"Oh ... yes, yes," she said, falteringly. "Just a momentary chill, it'll 
pass." 

"Well, do take care of your cold," he said. "I'd hate to think of anything 
marring the perfection of your charming being." 

"Oh, Rogers," she said, her voice trilling and her clit zinging, "you say 
the nicest things." 

"Perhaps we can get together soon, Honey," he said, "for dinner. But in any 
case, I'll see you on Tuesday." 

"Yes, Rogers," Hot-Box Honey said, clit throbbing. "Good-bye." 

 CHAPTER THREE 

The days seemed to fly by for Honey, knowing something exciting and world 
altering was going to happen to her on Tuesday afternoon. She had almost 
ignored her business, cleaning and rearranging things in the apartment. She 
wanted to make absolutely sure that eveything was perfect for little Harold. 

She had even painted the smaller bedroom, the one the child would use. She 
hesitated about sticking some cute decals of birds and animals around for 
him to look at, rightly assuming that the boy was already way beyond that 
stage in his development. Then she went to the big Safeway supermarket down 
the street from her home-business-combination and stocked up on everything 
she thought the boy might like to eat. It cost her a fortune, too, what with 
today's grocery prices. She made a mental note to check into raising some of 
her own prices at the Oasis to help offset her additional living expenses. 
Inflation everywhere. 

As time grew closer for her appointment at Rogers Dalton's downtown 
attorney's office, Honey began to be nervous and apprehensive. She took a 
long, relaxing bath in her tub, leaning back against the almost cold 
porcelain and letting the foamy lather soak into her skin until she felt 
squeaky clean all over. 

She only had fleeting and momentary sex thoughts, which was very 
uncharacteristic of Honey Jacobson. Surely it was becuase the excitement of 
her approaching motherhood was throwing her entire system out of whack with 
its normal routines. 

Still, she was thankful. Her bath was almost more relaxing without the usual 
chain of self-induced orgasms, getting her all funky way up inside her cunt 
where the juices gathered. After a beat-off bath, it was customary for Honey 
to take a cleansing bath and a lingering, faintly lemon-scented douche to 
make sure her pussy wasn't offensive to all the people who were not going to 
get within sniffing distance of it. 

But her bath was finished, finally, and she checked the time on her dressing 
table clock: plenty of time left to dress and drive to Roger's office, she 
thought. 

Nevertheless, she rushed through her drying, leaving the thick fluffy 
turkish towel draped over the shower door to dry out a bit before being 
dumped into the dirty laundry. She turned her high speed, professional 
quality hair dryer on full force and worked it through her hair, taking care 
of the few strands that had soaked up some of the water from her tub. 

Playfully, she turned the nozzle of the hair dryer down until it pointed at 
her pussy, making the delicate blonde-to-red strands of her cunt hair writhe 
around like trees in a hurricane. The hot jet of air, blasting against her 
cuntal lips, stirred a faint rise of passion in her so, recognizing the 
telltale signs of arousal, Honey quickly diverted the airflow away from her 
cunt before the mouth could gape open enough for the hot air to caress her 
clitoris. 

She shuddered playfully and turned her hair dryer off, preferring to finish 
the job with her large silver-handled brush. She watched the gentle rise and 
fall of her breasts in her dressing table mirror as she worked the brush 
through her long, casually styled blonde hair. 

They're pretty fine looking tits, she thought, admiring the gentle curve of 
them that uplifted the bulk of her breasts and pointing the areolas and 
fingertip-sized nipples outward at slight angles to the center line. The 
dark circles of her areolas weren't brown at all, but were rather a very 
dark rose, in keeping with her extremely delicate complexion. The hard 
pointy nipples were just slightly redder than their rosette backgrounds. 

Red and sensitive and very eager to have someone kissing them. To, Oh, God, 
have someone nursing on them like a baby, giving to Hot-Box Honey the 
sensation of motherhood she had been deprived of sixteen years earlier. 

With her hair finished, Honey began selecting the clothes she would wear to 
Dalton's office. It was no simple task. Everything she took out of her 
closet underwent close examination. 

Will he like me in this? Perhaps this dress would be better.... 

Finally she settled on a casual-cut silk shirt of a blue paisley design and 
a darker blue Guatemala-cotton skirt. The two went very well together. She 
definitely set aside underwear for the ocasion, even a bra. Sometimes she 
liked to go out without one and feel the free movement of her breasts; they 
were particularly sensitive rubbing up against the silk shirt she'd 
selected. Then, at other times, especially when she was feeling particularly 
vulnerable, she wouldn't go outside her apartment without a bra on, offering 
some mental security at least. 

All that and her new brushed leather walking Earthshoes, and Honey felt 
ready to face the world. 

She quickly put them all on, the black lace bikini panties with the 
provocative embrodiery star pattern and black lace matching bra. The blue 
satin half slip followed by the shirt and skirt. When she decided all her 
seams were straight, her shirt tucked in just so and open at the neck so the 
tops of her pale breasts would show, Honey was-almost satisfied with her 
reflected image. 

Selecting a pair of neutral Peds that would just cover her feet inside the 
walking shoes, Honey put them on, then the shoes, lacing them securely and 
tying off the bows. 

Finished at last, she took one final glance into her mirror. 

Some make-up? she asked herself, then decided against it. Honey seldom wore 
anything of a cosmetic nature, not even cologne. Certainly no lipstick or 
nail polish. She had lots of problems thinking of herself as something other 
than a natural person. 

Still, there was something missing, some final adornment. What? 

Of course, my necklace should do it, she thought, reaching into her jewelry 
case and selecting a gold chain that was neither too delicate nor too bulky 
for her physical characteristics, holding as a pendant a five-dollar USA 
gold piece dated 1854. It had been a gift from her father, many years 
before. 

With it around her neck and hanging down to where the gold coin would just 
graze the tops of her breasts, she finally approved of her reflection. The 
gold coin, glittering in the light, added the perfect accent. Not only did 
it draw attention-to her flawless breasts and creamy white skin, but it 
added just a subtle touch of richness; the gold never failed to impress, 
somehow. 

Honey smiled at herself and brushed aside one derelict strand of blonde hair 
before reaching for her purse and walking away from her dressing table. 

She checked the time again. 2:45. Christ, I've wasted over half an hour 
messing around with my clothes. I better get a move on or I'll be late. 

Walking through her kitchen, Honey opened the connecting door into her 
private office, making sure it was locked behind her. She fumbled with a few 
papers for a couple of minutes and flicked the row of switches that ran the 
television monitor through the array of hidden cameras, briefly checking the 
activity being covered by each of them. 

Wilhelm Zumwalt was standing inside the main work area and looking directly 
into the television camera, as if through some uncanny sixth sense he could 
tell that Hot-Box Honey was looking directly at him. Just to make sure, he 
reached down and slowly, but definitely noticeably, began stroking the long 
length of his limber cock. 

Angrily, Honey flicked the switch, cutting Horse off from her view. 

She cursed him and her fate that forced her to come into contact with him as 
she picked up the final bills of lading for the day and left the office, 
pushing the door closed behind her. She seldom checked to see if the office 
door was locked, unlike her unfailing routine with the apartment whenever 
she was out of the building. 

With the bills of lading in her hand, Honey moved down the stairway, holding 
onto the open-sided railing and looking down across the hum of workers below 
her. The vast warehouse-type structure was alive with big fancy vans and 
off-road vehicles, each of them being somehow altered, bringing in large 
sums of money to the Oasis every day. 

Horse Zumwalt saw her coming down the stairs and moved toward her, reaching 
the bottom step just as Honey did herself. He saw the bills of lading in her 
hand and knew she would have to see him anyway. He was just making things 
easier for her. 

Or was he? 

Scarcely had Honey's foot touched the cement floor of the work area when 
Horse was right there, against her. 

He was actually pushing himself against her. The fatty flesh bulge of his 
cock and balls was grinding into her hip, from the side, and she could feel 
the feverish heat of it and a gentle pulsebeat that seemed to be throbbing 
against her sensitive flesh. 

Perhaps it was her very own heartbeat, but Honey doubted that. She stuck out 
her arm, the hand holding the bills of lading, and pushed them into his 
hands, pushing his body back and away from hers at the same time. 

"Oh come on, baby," Horse said, his free hand already stroking the bulging 
length of his cock, clearly visible through his thin khaki wash pants that 
were almost threadbare around his crotch from so much heavy self-caressing, 
"you know I got somethin' good for you." 

Honey fought back a heavy wave of nausea that surged through her stomach and 
started upward, threatening to force its way out of her throat in the form 
of vomit at any moment. 

"How dare you!" she said, indignantly, her clear sky blue eyes glaring 
defiance at the brute. 

"Get off your high horse, baby," Wilhelm said. "You know what I got, and you 
know it's exactly what you want." 

"Why-why.." Honey began sputtering, unable to make a coherent sentence. 

"So stop fighting it. What you need is a little of this, like every day. Say 
tonight, when I get off work, you and me, we can just slip up to your place 
and have us a real orgy. 

Honey slapped him hard, right across the face, and ran away from him. 
Several of the nearby workers looked up at her, astonished that she would do 
anything so radical. Fortunately, especially for Horse, they had been 
standing completely out of ear-shot from any of the workers, so no one knew 
what they had been talking about. 

Horse broke into a broad smile and began laughing loudly to further cement 
his position, causing the workers to think that it had all been a joke. 

Honey could hear his laughter ringing after her as she walked out of the 
building and into the parking lot. Her car was the one closest to the door, 
in her special marked-off and designated parking spot. 

It wasn't much, but it was exactly what Honey Jacobson wanted for personal 
transportation, besides that, it was a tax writeoff for the Oasis, as it 
doubled for an emergency delivery vehicle. 

It was a Datsun pick-up truck, a king cab, with a 5-speed gear box and a 
special low-rider camper shell. Naturally the whole truck had been worked 
over by the crew at the Oasis. Knowing it was the boss's pet, they took 
special attention to fit the boot in that joined the back window of the cab 
to the front window of the camper shell, so she could just crawl straight 
through to the back whenever she wanted to. 

There was special carpeting, too, throught he whole cab area and all the way 
back through the truck bed to the rear door, and two lush. luxurious leather 
bucket seats. All in all, including the special three-toned brown paint job, 
Honey's Datsun was one honey of a Lil' Hustler. 

She jumped into the driver's seat and slammed the door closed behind her, 
still seething from Horse's outrageous proposition. As she jammed the key 
into the ignition and turned it, firing the 2000 cc engine to life, she was 
sure she could still fell the touch of his cock there against her where it 
had seared its imprint indelibly into the flesh of her right side. 

"Oh, how could he?" Honey said aloud, then lapsed into reverie. That was the 
filthiest thing I've ever had to endure. Oh, why can't I get up enough nerve 
to fire him? I wish he wasn't such a good shipping clerk. Though I'll have 
to fire him after this. There's no way I can tolerate his having actually 
pushed that disgusting cock of his right up against me. 

Honey shifted into reverse and zoomed out of her spot, without even looking 
behind to see if the way was clear. Fortunately for her it was, and she made 
the maneuver without incident. She ground the gears into first and, peeling 
rubber, flew out of the parking lot and into the traffic flow of Groveton 
Boulevard. 

Three blocks down the street she took the on-ramp up to the cross-town 
freeway. 

The digital clock mounted into her dashboard said 3:05. 

There's still plenty of time to get to Rogers', she thought, trying to shake 
all remnants of Horse's outrageous actions out of her memory. 

But they wouldn't budge. The more she fought to eliminate them, the more 
solidly they seemed to appear to her. Especially the solid imprint of the 
whole long length of his cock against her legflesh. 

Oh, God, she said, sighing and surrendering herself to the inevitable 
session that was to follow. 

Many times she had driven down the freeways, masturbating. Jerking off, as 
she thought of it, pulling the tweaking of her tender clitoris as the Datsun 
truck hummed down the highway. 

She shifted forward and, using her left hand only, managed to work her black 
panties down and off her feet. It just wouldn't do to have them tangled up 
when she needed to hit the clutch or the brake for any reason. 

With the clingy black lace fabric off her, her pussy seemed to begin 
breathing and taking in gulps of air until the lips of it started moving 
slowly apart, all by themself, and the juicy flow of her cuntal fluids began 
gathering just at the edge of the lips and making her clit moist and ready, 
moving on down through the crack of her ass to make it slimy and slick, 
hunching slightly against the soft leather upholstery of the ass-grabbing 
bucket seat. 

Honey checked her distance from front to back, using the rearview mirror, 
gauging where she stood with the other vehicles on the freeway. Fortunately 
traffic was quite light, the rush hour not yet upon the city, and Honey had 
few indeed cars to worry about. 

Once a big truck had pulled up beside her and the driver, seated much higher 
than Honey, had a perfect view through her window and right into her crotch 
where her finger-fucking was easily visible as her digit worked frantically 
in and out of her slickly gaping cuntal mouth. 

She had finally recognized what was happening and had become very 
embarrassed, zooming away from the truck and not even finishing the 
much-needed masturbation. That time. She checked for trucks to make sure 
nothing would interrupt this crosstown sex drive. 

The coast was clear. Honey lifted her skirt up and bunched it around her 
waist, not wanting to soil it by wrinkling it or getting it all cum streaked 
with her pussy juice. The slip, too, was tucked up out of the way. 

The juice was flowing quite freely and the clit becoming more and more blood 
engorged, just like a tiny covered up cock, and she continued to toy with it 
as long as she could bear the pleasure-pain. Her orgasm grew mightily around 
her. 

Just at the peak of the muscle-rippling sensation, Honey allowed her finger 
to desert her clit and slide, full length, down into the searing depths of 
her fuck hole. 

"Oh, God," she said, moaning aloud and hunching her hips forward against the 
slick sex-wet leather. Her foot accidentally pushed down on the accelerator 
and the truck jetted forward rapidly until she could bring it back under 
control. 

Only she couldn't bring her orgasm back under control. It kept spasming 
around her finger, cunt-milking it in violent little eruptions of cum juice 
and pussy passion, until Honey began to feel decidedly week in the knees. 

Then she saw the sign overhead: Downtown exit-I mile. 

Reluctantly Honey pulled her finger clear of her cunt and grabbed for some 
tissues. She always had a handy box of white Kleenex nearby. In no time at 
all she had wiped her finger, her cunt, and, as well as she could from her 
awkward position, the seat under her, free of the copious flow of her cuntal 
juices. Satisfied that all was almost in order-Honey knew she could down her 
panties at the very last moment before leaving the car at Dalton's 
office-she tried to breathe normally and took the Downtown Exit ramp, almost 
catching the light at the corner of West Broadway where she had to turn 
left. 

By the time she had covered the final six blocks to Attorney-in-Law Rogers 
M. Dalton's fancy, expensive office, Honey was breathing regularly and part 
of the high flush of her complexion was receding. 

As she pulled to the curb in front of Rogers' office building and brought 
the little Datsun truck to an easy parked position, she reached 
simultaneously for her tiny little black lace bikini panties. She hardly 
even smelled her cunt at all as she left the truck. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

In the hallway right outside Rogers Dalton's office was large reception area 
containing, among other things, a ladies' room. Honey remembered it with 
thanks and rushed inside, using a paper towel, wet with hot water, to 
surface douche her juiced-up pussy. When she had it as clean as she could 
get it using the disintegrating paper towel, she tossed the used waste aside 
and washed her hands thoroughly, finally sniffing at her dried hand for 
telltale signs of her recent finger fucking. 

She couldn't detect a trace of her cuntal juices still lingering on her 
anywhere. 

A last minute adjustment of her silk shirt, opening just one more button at 
the top to show more breast flesh, Honey Jacobson was ready to face her 
attorney and her unknown son. She could hardly wait to see the little boy 
who was flesh of her flesh, blood of her blood. 

She fluffed at the long strands of her pale blonde hair then smiled, 
practicing her reaction at seeing little Harold, and left the public ladies' 
room in slightly better condition than she had first entered it. 

Amelia, Rogers' receptionist, had been expecting Honey. 

"Good afternoon, Miss Jacobson," she said, smiling in a much-practiced 
fashion. "Mr. Dalton is expecting you. You're to go right into his office." 

"Thank you, Amelia," Honey said, returning the receptionist's smile with one 
that was a bit more genuine. Perhaps it was that Amelia detected a rival in 
Honey, someone who could score with Rogers before she had a chance to get 
her gold-digging hooks into him and lock up his fortune along with his fine 
gentle masculine frame, all for herself. 

Well, Honey knew she was definitely no competition, especially for someone 
as glamorous as the sexy Amelia Roper. 

Honey shrugged off her thoughts about the attractive brunette and pushed at 
Rogers' private office door, not bothering to knock. As she stepped inside 
the room, Rogers saw her and looked up from his desk. 

"Honey," he said, as if he hadn't even been expecting her. "My, but you're 
looking particularly beautiful this afternoon." 

"Ohhh, Rogers," Honey said, genuinely thrilled at her attorney's flattery. 

"No, I really mean it. Honey," he said. "Perhaps it's the anticipation of 
meeting your son Harold that's doing it for you. Whatever the case, it 
should happen every day. You're positively radiant." 

Honey blushed and sat down in the chair across from Rogers' desk, the one he 
indicated for her to take with a smooth motion of his left hand. "Just a few 
minutes more. Honey," he said. "There is the formality of signing these 
forms." 

"What are they?" she asked, picking up the first of several sheets of paper 
he had placed before her. 

"Oh, just routine," he said. "You can trust me in this matter completely. 
There's no need even to read them over. Just sign each where I've placed the 
little red X's. 

"Here?" she asked, pointing to one of his marks. 

"Yes, that's right," he said, "but be sure to press down hard, the form's in 
triplicate." 

"I'll do my best, Rogers," Honey said, pressing down firmly with the 
ballpoint pen Rogers had given her along with the sheaf of papers. 

"That's just fine," he said, checking the carbon copies then, without her 
knowing what he was doing, leaning far forward to peer down her shirt top, 
past the shining five-dollar gold piece and right down into the lush valley 
between her fine firm breasts. 

He could feel a throbbing deep within his loins right at the base of his 
cock where the root of it was buried deep within his warmly passionate 
manflesh. Honey never failed to bring about that reaction in him. He knew 
that, if he didn't resist with all his might, his dick would soon begin 
lengthening, stretching out and growing more firmer until he had a 
rip-roaring hard-on. An erection that would not leave his pulse-pounding 
prick until he had, at least within a mental fantasy, sunk the entire long 
hard length of his blood-filled manfuck stick into the very depths of her 
soft buttery cunt, forcing the lips of it back and open and letting her clit 
just bump up against the big hard bone of his pubic mound. 

Honey finsihed with the last signature and passed the final sheet of 
triplicate forms back to Rogers. He started to stand up to take them from 
her but changed his mind, certain that she could see the rigid outline of 
his hard cock poking a tent out in the front of his pants. He wasn't quite 
ready for her to know how completely just her close physical presence turned 
him on and enflamed his lustful desires. 

Honey smiled at Rogers as he took the papers from her. His long, firm 
masculine fingers touched against hers gently and lingered there for a 
moment as their hands made contact. She could feel the warmth of his strong 
maleness all the way down into her crotch. Where she had just recently 
washed away the stickiness that had gathered there matting the blonde pubic 
hairs with funkiness, she could feel the first new flush of reawakened 
vitality cause the cuntal juices to begin seeping out anew. 

Oh, he's such a fine, gentle person, she thought. I wonder if he could ever 
turn on to me. How thrilling it would be if I could just get him all 
flustered and excited. Maybe even give him an erection. 

Honey giggled inside her head at the thought, and the one that followed it: 
I wonder how big his cock is. Surely it's nothing like that disgusting horse 
dick hung on Wilhelm Zumwalt. 

Oh, Christ, Rogers, be soft and gentle and understanding with me. I really 
need someone to love, really make love with me. 

Please, Rogers, be the man, the cock for me.... 

If he had the power to read her mind, he would definitely not be doing what 
he was, trying to force thoughts of her lustful looking body out of his head 
so his roaring cock would relax a little, at least enough so as not to 
embarrass him when he stood up. 

Finally he thought he had it under control and, cautiously, under the desk 
so she couldn't see, he angled it down at a more comfortable direction and, 
smoothing the tent out in his pants, he stood up, finally daring to let his 
crotch face her head-on inspection. 

Honey looked him over very good, standing there in front of her, and she 
liked everything she saw. His brown hair had just the faintest traces of 
gray at the temples. It made him look very distinguished but, as he was only 
forty years old, he was probably touching it up with gray to gain the 
confidence of his clients. At five foot ten, his one hundred seventy pounds 
was very nicely distributed indeed. Trying as hard as she could, she was 
just barely able to make out the faintest trace of the outline of his cock, 
and what she could see of it, she approved enthusiastically. 

His brown eyes seemed to be probing into her, perhaps into her breasts, she 
couldn't tell for sure. Or maybe they were trying to hide a secret lustful 
desire from her. 

Oh, Rogers, what do I have to do to get you into bed with me? she thought, 
standing up to face him squarely. 

"Uh-uh," she began, struggling for words, "about, uh-Harold?" 

"Oh, of course," Rogers said, blushing slightly. Thoughts of fucking Hot-Box 
Honey hanging heavily in his thoughts. "I'd almost forgotten why you're 
here." 

"That's all right, Rogers," she said, "but I would like to see him, if it's 
convenient." 

"Convenient?" he said, and laughed. "Of course it is. He's right next door, 
in my inner office, waiting." 

"Oh," Honey Jacobson said, now that the moment was at hand, reservations by 
the truck load seemed to descend upon her. She felt weak and unsteady and 
clutched at the back of her chair for support. "He's ... that close?" 

"Yes, right in there, waiting," Rogers said. "Would you like to go in alone 
and introduce yourself? Or would you prefer to have me do it for you?" 

Honey thought for a moment, trying to regain her strength. "Well, perhaps it 
would be easier if I just went in by myself and talked to him," she said. 

"Just as you want it, Honey," Rogers said, smiling, trying to give her 
confidence for the unusual ordeal she was certainly facing. 

"Do you think I should knock first?" she asked. 

"Perhaps," Rogers said. "You know, it's no more easier for the boy than it 
is for you. He'd probably like a moment's warning." 

"I suppose you're right," Honey said, walking reluctantly to the connecting 
door, then pausing again. 

After several silent minutes had passed, Rogers smiled encuragingly. "Go 
ahead, knock," he said, "you've got to do it some time, you know?" 

"Of course," Honey said, forcing a smile that she didn't really feel, then, 
before she could change her mind again, she knocked three times on the door 
and, without further hesitation, opened it and walked right into the 
connecting office. 

Honey closed the door behind her, staring in fascination across the room. 

He was standing there looking at her. 

Her son. Hot-Box Honey's little boy, and he was afraid. 

At fifteen years of age, Harold E. (for Edward) Jacobson, Jr., was already 
one hellofa little man. Actually, Honey found it difficult to use the word 
"little" even in her mind, in association with her son. Certainly he was not 
the child she had somehow expected to find waiting in the office for her. 
Not by any means. 

Young Harold was already taller than his mother by at least half an inch and 
he was nowhere near through growing. He outweighed her, too, by a couple of 
pounds, rounding out at one hundred fifteen ... this week. 

He had his father's jet black hair, although it was fuller and cut longer 
than she had ever seen Harold Senior's hair, almost but not quite reaching 
her son's already broad shoulders. He had deep green eyes, too, also like 
his dad's. 

Actually, there was little or nothing of him that reminded Honey of herself. 
He was almost totally his father's son. 

Oh, God, don't let that be so, Honey thought, crying out inside her head an 
anguish. He can't be just like his father. If nothing inherited from me 
shows, please, God, let it be inside my son. He can't be the same rough, 
uncaring, overbearing monster his father was. 

Please, God, she prayed, let him be slow and gentle and considerate of 
whatever woman he's making love to ... with.... 

His shoulder were broad already, showing the promise of the man yet to come, 
narrowing down to a fine, trim waist. His hips were narrow and masculine 
already and, Honey was sure, his pants only covered a near perfect frame of 
forming muscles and solid masculine flesh. 

Her mind allowed her a faint speculation as to the size and shape of his 
genitalia. How would his sweet young virginal cock look to her? His 
innocent, as-yet-untested balls? 

Oh, God, will I ever actually see them? 

Touch them?" 

Honey shuddered at the thought and, uncertain as to what to do or say, she 
slowly raised her arms up and out, as if reaching for him, or providing 
shelter within her arms. 

The mother's arms that had never held her son. 

"Harold...." she said, tentatively, "I'm your mother." 

He had been standing, all the time she had been examining and undressing him 
with her eyes, fondling his virginal cock and balls, doing nothing, staring 
back at her in complete consternation. 

Somehow he had expected someone much older and more ... well, more matronly 
looking. Why, Honey wasn't even old enough to be anyone's mother, much less 
his. She looked like some of the chicks in his junior high school class, not 
like a full grown woman. 

True, her breasts did look a bit fuller than the girls at school did, and 
she was more sure of herself, which was obvious from the way she carried 
herself. 

For months now, Harold had been fighting off growing sensations that seemed 
to radiate outwardly from his testicles, or somwhere deeper, beneath them, 
buried in his groin. The sensations came back to plague him again as he 
looked at his youngish mother. Any minute, he knew, the blood would start to 
flow into the heavy hanging tube of his boycock and fill it up, make it hard 
and throbbing and uptilting. 

Oh, no, not that, he thought, fighting his natural instincts, his inbred 
desire to mate, to take his unused cock and do with it what Nature wanted 
him to do with it. 

To fuck, and fuck and fuck and fuck some more. 

All the wonderful sex things he had never done-yet-but had begun to 
originate, spontaneously, inside his fertile brain. 

The moment she opened her arms and offered herself to him, the warmth and 
security his feverish head, he cast all caution to the winds. 

"Mother," he said, the word forming on his tongue with difficulty. It was a 
word he had never yet had a chance to use in all of his fifteen young years 
of boyhood. 

"Yes, dear," Honey said, "but that sounds so strange to me, somehow." 

Harold had rushed across the room, but so had Honey, and they met not quite 
halfway, crushed into each other's arms, grasping and hugging and kissing 
frantically. Tears poured freely from both of them, intermingling on their 
cheeks, their lips. 

"You're really my mother," Harold said, unbelieving. 

"I think you'd better try calling me Honey, dear," she said, "just like 
everyone else." She deliberately tried to ignore her nickname of Hot-Box, 
certain that little Harold would discover the abomination soon enough for 
himself. 

"Honey," he repeated after her, savoring the taste of the word in his mouth. 
"Yes, it seems to fit you." 

"Funny," she said, somewhat pensively, "your father said that exact thing to 
me, once, before everything went bad with us." 

"I don't know anything about that, Honey," he said, "and I don't think I 
want to-not yet, at any rate, so let's just start all over again...." 

"No, dear," she said, "we can't do that. You see, we never started ever 
before. There is no 'again'." 

"Yes, I see," young Harold said, hardly even aware that he was deliberately 
pushing his cheek tightly against her right breast and breathing in deeply, 
inhaling the fragrance of her feverish titties. 

"So this is the real beginning, without recriminations, without 
hostilities...." she said. 

But he interrupted, " ... and without silly old restrictions." 

"Of course, dear," Honey said, ruffling her hand through his fine black hair 
and pushing him, gently, back away from her body that was growing almost too 
warm from their physical contact. 

She was laughing when the door opened behind her and Rogers Dalton joined 
them. 

"Well," he said, "I see the both of you're getting along just fine." 

"We certainly are, Rogers," Honey said, straightening up Harold's hair for 
him while the boy just beamed, rapturously, into her fondly smiling face. 

"She's great," Harold said, turning toward Dalton. 

"I thought I told you that," Rogers said. 

"Well, you did," Harold said, smiling, "but I didn't think you meant great 
when you said it." 

"Then you know now that I meant it when I said it," he said. 

"I'll never doubt you again, Mr. Dalton," Harold said, the proper tone of 
respect in his voice for his mother's friend and attorney. 

"Glad to see you two getting on so well," Honey said, interrupting their 
conversation. "Perhaps this means we'll be seeing a great deal more of you, 
Rogers?" 

Momentarily, thinking of Honey minutely examining his naked body, his hefty 
cock and balls, Rogers blushed. Stammering, he found his way back into the 
conversation. 

"That'd be my pleasure, Honey," he said, relaxing slightly. 

"You're always welcome at my house. You know that, Rogers," she said. 

"Oh, yes," young Harold put in, "please come see us." 

"Well, I certainly don't need more of an invitation than that," he said, 
leaning over and looking, again, down into the crevice between Honey's 
deliciously edible looking breasts, trying to sniff out her secret, hidden 
sexual fragrance. 

Honey detected the area of his gaze and blushed, unconsciously toying with 
the collar of the silk shirt as if trying to close it protectively over her 
breasts that were, for some reason, beginning to heave and tingle, the 
nipples becoming erect and poking against the delicate black lace ridges of 
her frail little bra. 

"You've been real swell to me, Mr. Dalton," Harold said, sticking his hand 
out, very grownup-like, to grasp Rogers' hand in a firm handshake. "Thank 
you very much." 

Rogers almost wanted to blush again, the gratitude and genuine warmth 
radiating out from the little boy was almost overwhelming. It was almost as 
if the child had transferred the affection he had felt for his head father 
to the virile attorney-at-law. 

Whatever, it felt good to Rogers Dalton, and what felt good to him, he was 
determined to hold on to. 

"Any time at all, Harold," he said, returning the boy's frank approval and 
solid, man-like handshake. "Don't hesitate to phone me for anything, day or 
night." 

"Gee," he said, lapsing into being just a kid again, "that's really swell. A 
guy's got to know he has someone he can depend on." 

"That's me," Rogers said, "Johnny on the spot." 

Honey smiled and reached out her hand as she had seen her son do. "Yes, 
Rogers," she said, clasping his hand warmly in hers, then covering it over 
with her other hand. "I want to thank you, too. I couldn't have gotten 
through this ordeal without you." 

"I think we've got a mutual admiration society going here," Rogers said, 
loving the feel of her gentle warmth surrounding his hand, instantly 
transferring the thought to where it was no longer her hands but her tightly 
clenching cunt wrapped solidly around his firm-fleshed cock which was buried 
to the root and beyond into her softly sensual fuck hole. 

Honey blushed and, reluctantly, released his hand. For just a moment she was 
thinking of it in terms of his cock, as if she were holding it tightly with 
her flexing muscles, milking along the whole long hard length of it. 

But not so. The flesh of his hand, the gently hairs on it, the warmth of 
their touch, all registered solidly inside her head as being his hand. It 
was her fantasy that it be his cock, already fully engorged and hard, ready 
to give her pleasure beyond the limits of her knowledge. 

"Well," she said, blushing, sure Rogers had looked inside her head and seen 
her mentally fondling his proud, up-standing prick, "we really do have to be 
going now. It's getting late." 

"Yes," Rogers said, "Amelia's already left for the day. Trying to avoid the 
rush hour, I suppose." 

"I hate it," Honey said, "but, to be able to take Harold home with me, makes 
the ordeal well worth while." 

"I'm sure," Rogers said, walking with them to his big front door and holding 
it open. 

Little Harold rushed on through, eager, looking back over his shoulder to 
smile again at Rogers. "Good-bye, now," he said. 

"Good-bye, Harold," Rogers said, "hope to see you soon. 

"Of course," Hot-Box Honey said, touching Rogers' hand again, letting her 
fingertips trace lightly through his fine man-hairs, "do come by." 

"I will, for sure," Rogers said, watching Honey and Harold walk down the 
corridor and turn, out of his view. He walked back inside his office and 
closed the door behind him, leaning up against it and, unconsciously, 
cupping his warm cock and balls as if in definite promise for pleasures yet 
to come to surround his prick with passions's own fuck juices, manufactured 
in Hot-Box Honey's extremely hot-box, just for him. 

At the curb, young Harold stopped beside Honey's customized Datsun pick-up, 
admiring the three-tone brown paint job that was streaked from the nose up 
over the low-rise fiber glass camper shell and down to the back bumper. 

Honey could tell that he was admiring the car. 

"Yes," she said, "that's the right one." 

"This truck?" Harold said. "No kidding? You mean it's really yours?" 

"Yes, dear," Honey said, "or perhaps I should say it's ours now. I'll have 
to do a whole heavy mental trip on changing my vocabulary, it seems." 

"Geez," the youth said, excited at finding a new toy and it not even being 
Christmas, "I never thought I'd get close to one of these. Dad was strictly 
a big-car man. He had a Dodge...." 

"That's all right, dear," Honey said, trying to divert the boy's thoughts. 
She wasn't too sure, yet, where areas of pain were hidden for him and she 
had no desire at all to uncover sore spots. "Get in and look around." 

Harold eagerly opened the passenger door and slid inside, feeling of the 
gentle caress of his ass as the leather cupped it sensuously, offering 
security for any ride. The special dashboard attracted his attention right 
away, with all the extra switches and dials, the electronic digital clock 
and tachometer. 

"Wow," he said, genuinely amazed at the amount of luxury crammed into such a 
little truck, then he turned around to look through the connecting boot, 
past the behind-the-seat storage area, and into the softly comfortable 
luxurious truck bed itself. 

"Christ," he said, "you could do almost anything with this truck, couldn't 
you?" 

"I suppose you could," Honey said, pleased that he approved of her truck. 
She closed the driver's door and inserted the key in the ignition, firing 
off the 2000 cc Japanese engine. It purred to life and throbbed gently, 
thanks to the special exhaust system, pulsating with mini-power. 

"Do you think," Harold began, hesitantly, "that I might could ... Well, 
someday, learn to drive." 

"You mean your father never taught you...?" Honey began, then remembered the 
youngster beside her was, after all, only fifteen years old. 

"Well, you might be just a little too young," she said, "but I suppose it 
wouldn't hurt to give you a few lessons. That way you'd be ahead of your 
class in Driver's Ed at school." 

"Wow," he said, "that's fantastic. I can hardly wait." 

"Now just watch me, Harold," Honey said, "as I shift into reverse and back 
up, then forward into low." 

She moved the Datsun truck back then forward, slowly edging it into the 
traffic flow and continued demonstrating to young Harold how to shift, how 
and when to use the clutch, until she was onto the freeway and cruising, in 
5-speed high, down the wide expanse of cement, trying to dodge the worst 
part of the afternoon's rush hour. 

Harold had been leaning over, spanning the gap between their bucket seats, 
watching the way her feet worked the pedals and her hand the shift. 

And looking down her soft silk shirt to gaze longingly at her lush, bounding 
breasts. 

Honey wasn't even aware of the angle of his gaze, so caught up was she in 
her own mind-game. It was brought on by the heat of the youngster, being so 
close to her. She could feel his breath as he exhaled, it seemed to strike 
her neck and roll gently down into her silk shirt. His sweet young breath 
smelled good, too. She deliberately pulled in gasps of air to drag his 
expelled breath into her lungs and savor it. 

Mine, all mine, she thought, and her mind instantly began undressing her 
son, right there inside the pick-up truck. 

She pulled his rugby shirt up over his head and tossed it into the back of 
the truck, along with his T-shirt that had come off the boy at the same 
time. 

His boyish biceps and wide shoulders were particularly inviting to her gaze 
and she allowed her eyes to search him minutely, inch by inch, to seek out 
nonexistent flaws with his fine young boyish skin. She looked under his arms 
into his softly rounded armpits where, amid the hint of youthful sweat, a 
just forming tangle of armpit hair was visible to excite her gaze. 

She just knew his cock hair would be the same, the same color and the same 
fledgling thickness, mounded up over his fine young cock and, more sparsely, 
down over his scrotum that contained his precious little boy balls. 

Honey sobbed aloud at the thought and Harold looked at her questioningly. 
Honey made a sweeping-hand gesture to indicate the heavy traffic flow and 
let her sob pass by that way. 

But she knew it was her son's fine little body that had pulled that sob of 
passion from the depths of her unfucked soul. Already in her mind's eye she 
had the sweet youth standing up so she could unfasten his pants and let them 
fall down around his shoes. He was wearing clean white cotton briefs in her 
imagination, that just clung dearly to his sweet young genitalia. She could 
hardly wait for her mental hands to, especially gently, ease the clingy 
fabric back off his precious prick and, slowly, tormentingly, move it down 
his legs until she could actually-SEE IT! 

There it was, mentally pictured in all his youthful glory. 

HER SON'S COCK! 

It was the most precious little cock Hot-Box Honey Jacobson had ever seen in 
her entire life. The vision of her boy's cock and balls that she conjured 
up, from whole cloth, in the living color television screen of her mind. 

She desperately hoped that the real flesh and blood cock and balls of her 
little boy matched her mental promise, because if they did, he would be one 
fortunate youngster indeed, because the cock and balls Honey had mentally 
assigned to him were especially big and firm looking, especially virile and 
filled with gallons and gallons of fresh hot boycum. 

Honey's Hot-Box spasmed and the moisture that had been collecting just 
beneath the fluttering lips of her attention-starved cunt began to slowly 
trickle out past the lips, making them spread farther apart, well 
lubricated, to make room for her annoying clit that was already becoming 
blood-filled and sensitive. 

She squirmed around on the seat, trying to do it without attracting little 
Harold attention, and enjoying the way her juiced-up clit felt rubbing 
against the coarser lace trim of her black panties. 

She gasped aloud as her clit rolled over a ridge of her bucket seat, but 
Harold didn't think anything was wrong this time. 

She tried to close her eyes, to relax back into the subtle security other 
cum that offered her the only genuine pleasure and relaxation she had known 
for several years, but the knowledge that her son was with her, might even 
suspect what she was up to-but surely not, he was, after all, just a child 
himself. There would be no way for the child to know about sex. 

Yet. 

Now why in the hell did I say 'yet' in my thoughts? 

She looked back at her naked son, in her mind, never leaving the busy 
freeway with her eyes where the heavy traffic darted past her precariously 
as her pussy fluttered and spasmed against the black bikinis and the soft 
leather seat. Thank God for the ridges in the upholstery, they seem to be 
made just for my juicy old cunt. 

She rocked back and forth, as carefully as she could, savoring each 
sensation, each nerve-wracking ripple as cum after cum assailed her senses 
then, before she was nearly finished, in the growing darkness of evening, 
she saw the Groveton Boulevard exit looming just ahead on the freeway. 

"Well, here goes nothing," Honey said, pointing to the exit sign. 

Harold looked ahead, silently, the final few blocks to the Oasis, absorbing 
everything that passed his vision and recording it as if with a slow-motion 
camera. It was, after all, going to be his new home. 

Had he but of known the extent of the joys he would find there, both mental 
and physical, he would have been howling aloud with absolute ecstasy. 

As it was, he gritted his teeth and fought back the burgeoning blood-filled 
cock that he was deliberately holding down between his legs, forcing it to 
be inconspicuous and not embarrass him in front of his fine new mother. 

Still, there was a particularly exciting scent coming from somewhere, 
teasing his already overwrought boycock. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Honey Jacobson drove all the way around the block once, pointing out the 
extent of Jacobson Custom Body and 4WD Oasis to her new son Harold. In all 
his fifteen young years, the boy had never seen anything quite so exciting. 
It was like having a full-size erector set, and not like the erection he 
had, finally, managed to suppress in all the excitement of looking at his 
new home from the outside. Or like a giant tinker toy that he could change 
around and make out of it what he wanted as each moment's thought changed 
within his head. 

"Do you mean you really own this whole big plant?" Harold asked 
incredulously. 

"I suppose I do, dear," Honey said. "At least I'm making payments on all of 
it, and I've managed to pay all the tax bills and keep the wolf from the 
door." 

"Oh, it's fascinating," Harold said. "Can we go inside now?" 

"We have to, dear," she said, "we live inside. See, there on the second 
floor, just on the corner...." Honey was pointing out the window. 

"Yes, I see," Harold said. "Is that your house?" 

"We live up there, over everything. Originally, it was going to be a night 
watchman's quarters, but I decided I'd rather live there than just about 
anywhere I could think of," Honey said. 

"Oh, me, too," Harold said, fresh awe creeping into his voice. 

Honey pushed a secret button on the dash and an electronically operated 
overhead gate slowly swung upward, out of the way, and she drove the Datsun 
pickup through the gate and parked it in her special spot. 

Harold jumped out of the car before Honey had completely stopped, so eager 
was he to see his new home. He bounced around the front of the truck and was 
opening her door before she killed the engine. She turned the key and, 
picking up her purse, turned to move out the door. 

Her skirt hiked up, pulling against the leather of the seat, and the lace 
edge of her black lace decorated panties come into view. Several blonde to 
red strands of her lush pubic hair poked out the leg-hole at the side of her 
panties, the crotch was wet from her copious cuntal flow and the aroma, 
heady from her need, trickled through her nostrils. 

Harold saw it all. He stood there gazing down directly into her crotch, his 
nose twitching faintly and a red flush creeping upward over his face as he 
realized, for certain, that he was looking almost right at his own mother's 
cunt! He didn't know the significance of the moisture which had gathered in 
a vertical slit along the crotch piece of her panties, but he sure suspected 
he was looking at his very first real grownup pussy hair. 

The pounding beat of his pulse began anew in the depths of his crotch and 
kept signaling out messages of his need until they were picked up by the 
root of his boycock and, slowly, the blood began creeping back into the 
fleshy appendage, making it threaten to jerk upright, poking out an 
embarrassing tent in the front of his pants. 

Honey, embarrassed at having accidentally flashed her cunt at her young son, 
pulled annoyed at her skirt and moved out of the truck, pulling her skirt 
down over her crotch, hiding her cunt hair and fuck fluid stains from her 
obviously embarrassed young son. She coughed nervously, trying to hide her 
shame. 

"Just leave your things in the truck, Harold," Honey said, quickly moving 
and turning away, shaking her skirt downward. "We can get them later." 

"Oh, yes, uh-uh.. Mo ... ," the youngster paused, lost in his thoughts. "I 
can't do it," he said. 

Honey laughed, following the boy's thought processes in her mind. "It's 
okay, Harold," she said, "I understand. It's a problem for me, too. Do you 
think you could just concentrate on 'Honey'? That's what the guys all call 
me here, anyway." 

"Even that's strange," Harold said. "I never called anyone Honey in my whole 
life." 

"It's a name, dear," she said, "not a term of affection. A label, nothing 
more or less. But, here, look at the work we're doing on this VW, stripping 
it down and building it back up, only different." 

"Oh, wow, I bet it'll be something," Harold said, glad to be away from the 
sticky subject of what to call his mother. 

"And there, in the next room, we do the painting. The body shop's over to 
your right," Honey said, watching the boy run around in a daze, like a 
starving youngster suddenly turned loose in a candy shop, trying to absorb 
everything, touching things, memorizing them, making sure they were real and 
what was happening to him was real. 

"Careful of the grease rack, Harold," she called, "it's pretty messy most of 
the time." 

"What?" Where?" The boy looked around, higher, continuing to walk in 
circles, only Honey's warning had come just a bit too late. 

Harold tumbled over the edge of the grease rack, falling head over heels 
into the pit, kicking aside catch-pans and oil-change gear, landing with a 
loud plop on his little ass, narrowly missing a large greasy stain on the 
hard cement floor. 

Gasping, Honey quickly ran down the steps to the boy's side, looking down at 
his twisted form. "God!" she said. "Are you hurt? Where? How bad is it?" 

Harold groaned more in embarrassment than in pain, ashamed that he had been 
so clumsy as to actually trip in her presence, soiling his clothes and 
hurting himself. He gave a quick check and couldn't find anything he thought 
was seriously injured, though some sharp pains did run up and down his back, 
from the base of his spine. 

"Oh, it hurts back here," he said, rubbing his lower back. "But I think it's 
going to be okay. I do lots of tumbling in the gym at school, so I should 
know how to fall." 

"We can't be too sure, Harold," Honey said, taking the boy's hand and trying 
to lift him carefully. "Here, let me help you. Don't make any sudden moves, 
just see if you can stand up slow and gently. Don't jar yourself any." 

Groaning some more, moaning slightly, Harold twisted his legs around beneath 
him and, slowly, started rising, being pulled gently upward by Honey's 
strong, soothing hands. The pain at the base of his-,spine shot through him 
again and he gasped sharply. 

"You could be in shock, Harold," she said, "so you really can't feel the 
actual extent of the injury. It could be much worse later." 

"Oh, God, I hope not," Harold said, nor almost completely upright, shifting 
his weight from foot to foot, testing the reaction along his spinal column. 
There didn't seem to be any other injury. There was a minor scrape along his 
left wrist, where he had tumbled over the metal rack in the first place, but 
it was only a surface wound, not hardly bleeding at all. 

He hobbled toward the narrow stairway and started going up it, with Honey 
just behind, still holding his arm and encouraging him upward. 

"Slowly, walk carefully, Harold," she said. 

Raising his foot up the next step brought new agony to the boy, and he 
cringed from the pain. 

"Oh, Harold," his mother said, "I feel so helpless." 

Forcing back his agony, the strong young boy moved slowly up the stairway 
until he reached the top, knowing it would feel better not climbing but 
walking on the flat. He sighed and relaxed visibly. 

"Maybe you should just stand still for a bit, Harold," Honey said. "Don't 
walk just yet. There's still the flight of stairs up to the apartment." 

"Oh, God," the boy groaned, thinking of more climbing. 

"But if you could just walk to those stairs, they're wider than the grease 
pit," Honey said, "perhaps I could carry you up them." 

"I don't think that's necessary, mo ... Honey," Harold said, walking toward 
the stairs that led up to the office and, behind it, Honey's private 
apartment. But at the bottom of the steps he stopped again. 

Honey quickly grabbed him up in her arms, trying to lift him. At one hundred 
fifteen pounds, he outweighed his trim little mother by two pounds, stripped 
naked. All she could do was raise him up off the ground, then quickly put 
him back down again, but not before the solid fleshiness of his body 
registered in her brain, turning her on because of his boyish warmth, the 
promise of his fledgling body. 

"Well, I guess that shoots that idea," Harold said, trying to laugh. "Maybe 
if I just leaned on you, we could do it together." 

"Sure, Harold," she said, wanting to do it together. And to get him up the 
stairs. Honey gripped him firmly around his waist, pulling him in tightly 
until his firm hip was solidly pressing against hers. 

When Harold reached around her shoulders, holding her, they began moving up 
the stairs with most of his weight leaning on her. They made it to the top 
without too much pain. Actually Harold thought it was diminishing entirely, 
but it felt good to him, being so close to the exciting blonde whose blue 
eyes kept making vague promises to him about something incredibly exciting. 

Once they were inside the office, Honey tried to turn loose of Harold's 
waist, but he moaned and clung tighter to her shoulder. 

"Oh, you poor thing," she said, "we'd better get you right to bed." 

Leading the way, Honey walked Harold through the doorway into her private 
apartment, being sure to close it behind them, and across the big living 
room. Harold's bedroom, the smaller one, opened right into the kitchen. That 
was convenient, if he was hungry, he thought. His bedroom had its own small 
bathroom, just a shower, but he hated tub baths anyway, so that worked out 
just right. But it was the big double bed that captured his imagination. He 
had never slept in one in his whole life, and it looked immense and 
luxurious to the boy. 

Honey carefully laid him back on the bed, looking down at him with genuine 
concern for his welfare in her bright blue eyes. She fluffed up the pillows 
and angled them so his head would be raised high, looking around the room 
that was to be his very own, seeing it for his first time. 

"Now just be still, Harold," she said, "I've got to get some of your clothes 
off." Honey bent down beside the bed and untied the boy's best black shoes, 
his only pair, in fact, and slipped them off his feet, and his socks, too. 

It felt so funny to the boy, having her do it for him. His feet seemed to 
tingle with excitement where her warm flesh touched them, like little 
caresses. Then Honey straightened up and pulled Harold's shirt out of his 
pants, opening it and tugging if off his shoulders, down his arms. He was 
wearing a V-necked white T-shirt beneath it an through the dipping neckline 
Honey could see that his chest, though perfectly smooth and hairless, 
nevertheless had sculptured pectorals already plating across it. She skinned 
the T-shirt up and helped him raise his arms in order to pull it over his 
head. As he fell back against the pillows, Honey paused, taking in the sight 
of his perfection, reigniting the tingling that had earlier plagued her 
loins. 

At first, when Honey's hands touched his waist and began fumbling with his 
belt buckle, young Harold froze. He wasn't sure he should protest. In fact, 
he wasn't sure what he should do, but it was sure funny, watching a full 
grown woman tugging at his belt, unhooking it, opening it, working at the 
catch at the top of his pants and opening it, too. 

Taking the tab of the zipper and slowly pulling it down, opening his fly. 

"It's okay, Harold," she said, "after all, I am your mother. There's nothing 
to worry about, to be ashamed of." 

And his pants were open, the halves of the fly pushed back, exposing his 
slightly faded white knit Jockeys that mounded up high and full from his 
groin, the feverish heat of his youthful genitalia radiating upward like a 
furnace to caress Honey's loving hands. 

Gasping audibly, she raised his hips enough to tug his pants down under him, 
then off his legs, freeing the smooth, flawless columns, his nearly hairless 
thighs, his heavily boy haired calves and lower legs, the stark black hair 
looking, somehow, strong and youthful, hardly any of it being worn away from 
contact with chafing pants. 

But it was the huge mound beneath the white Jockeys that drew her eyes back 
to it, solidly locking them in place until she could trace over every 
sculptured flow of the curving boy flesh, clearly inspecting the outline of 
his fine young cock, curving gently inside the too tight confines of the 
stretching fabric ... clearly inspecting both of his already heavy, ovoid 
balls, inside their crinkly fleshed ballsac. 

For just a moment, as her eyes caressed the sex flesh of her very own son, 
Honey would have sworn that that same flesh moved. It seemed to twist around 
slightly, beneath the fabric, and stretch it out a bit, causing it to mound 
out even heavier, though she couldn't be sure about that. 

"I really have to examine your injury, Harold," Honey said, gently trying to 
turn the boy over, face down. He rolled with her urging hands, loving the 
way they felt touching against his naked flesh, his shoulder, his narrow, 
dipped-in waist. 

Flat on the mattress, his head off the fluffed up pillows and to the side of 
them, Harold moaned into the mattress growing suddenly feverish as Honey's 
hands dipped beneath the waistband of his Jockeys and abruptly pulled them 
downward. His cock caught and snagged the briefs briefly, then it pulled 
free of the hefty flesh, his ballsac, and slipped straight down his legs and 
off. 

He was starkly baresass naked on the bed before his mother. Before his first 
woman. Nothing stood between his hot flesh and her view of it. He rolled to 
the side quickly, making sure that his cock, which had been pulled out into 
the open, was again covered, hoping she hadn't seen the brief flash of it, 
or noticed how it was extending, filling out, growing harder. As it was, he 
imagined that she had a clear view of his healthy balls, bulging up between 
his slightly spread legs. He tried to close them but her hand prevented it, 
grasping one thigh firmly and holding it in place. 

"I'm just going to press you here and there, Harold, to see what kind of 
pain you get," Honey said. "Please let me know where it hurts. If it's not 
too bad, we won't get the doctor this time. Now, feel this, and this...." 

She began prodding around his spinal column, growing lower and lower, poking 
and pounding at him. There was no real pain, but there was great excitement, 
especially when she finished with the base of his spine and moved on down 
into the crack of his boyish ass, carefully pushing his sweet white buttocks 
apart and probing betwen them. Her fingers toyed with the tiny brown pucker 
of his anus, probing even it, the sweet frangrance of his sweaty anus 
growing heady over the bed as she worked at it. 

Then lower, her fingers actually touching his ballsac from the rear toying 
with its nearly hairless perfection, caressing the balls and lifting them 
gently, testing their weight, their potential, then gripping his thighs, 
massaging solidly into his firm youthful muscles. 

"Everything seems to be okay, Harold," she said, stopping her feather 
caresses of his naked butt. "Just a bit bruised. You'll be okay in a day or 
so, though tomorrow'll be the worst. The pain'll go away. You can turn over 
now." 

Turn over!? My God! the boy thought. There was no way he could face her with 
his erection, no way. 

"Come on, silly," she said, "I've seen you naked before. I've seen men 
naked, there's nothing to be ashamed of, I'm sure." 

"Oh, God," Harold said, moaning, but he slowly obeyed his mother, rolling 
hesitantly to his back. When he did, his fully erect cock snapped solidly 
against his belly, filling the room with the sharp flesh on flesh sound. 

"Jesus!" Honey said, looking down on her little boy. He wasn't little at 
all, there. His cock was enormous, it seemed, indicating that, once he was 
grown up, it would be monumental in size. It was strong and straight with 
just the first veins visible, filling it with blood and roping around the 
precious shaft. A growing nest of starkly black hairs were behind it, on his 
pubic mound, making the stark white flesh of his cock just that much more 
irresistible, leading down to his precious, perfect boyballs in their 
crinkly little sac that bobbed and bounced as she looked at them. 

But most of all it was his cockhead, peeping partially from within the 
foreskin that, still, tightly clung around it, protecting it, keeping it 
forever soft and sensitive and perfect. Unconsciously she touched it, 
pulling downward, watching his cockhead grow out of it to full measure 
before her very eyes, blooming like a virginal flower of boyfuck flesh. 

The shaft of her son's cock was so hard it was sharply upright and flat 
against his trim, slim belly. She actually had to pull at it to pry it 
upward so she could get her hand around the steel-like shaft, pulling down 
at the delicate foreskin. As she did, the foreskin stretched out down along 
the shaft and it filled out even more, becoming longer, using that extra 
skin and trapping it rigidly back along the column. 

Freeing all of Harold's incredible cockhead. It was fantastic, incredible, 
far beyond her imagination. It was bigger than she had supposed, seeing it 
captured beneath the tight foreskin, no wonder she had to peel it back 
cautiously, and broad, and much darker in color than the rest of his cock, 
almost purplish and glowing with moisture and youth and innocence and 
untouchability and all things attractive to her. Just beneath the back of 
the head where the two segments fluted together was a slight accumulation of 
off-white funkiness ... stuff that had been sheltered beneath his foreskin 
and against his cockhead. 

Turning it slightly, she tilted her head to look at the top of it, at the 
broad, mushroom-like flare of his coronal ridge, now fully engorged with 
fresh hot blood and looking slickly smooth, like the skin of a giant plum, 
and just as delicious. 

"Oh, God," she said, "it's beautiful." And she fell forward, right against 
it, her other hand scooping up his balls and cuddling them warmly. "I've 
just got to ... I've got to...." 

Watching her, his head propped on the pillow in stark fright, wondering what 
the hell was happening to him, Harold was filled with joy and delight and a 
really funny fear. 

No, Honey said in her brain. I can't do this, not to my own son. It's-it's 
INCEST, the most horrendous crime of all. I just can't! God! 

Gasping, crying aloud, Honey jumped up and ran from the room, leaving him 
alone, his painfully hard cock falling noisily back against his belly. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

For Hot-Box Honey Jacobson, it was a long, lonely night. Her mind was 
plagued by not only the sight, the feel, the smell of her son's hard cock, 
his balls, and sweet little asshole, but he overall thought of Harold was 
enough to make her crotch twitch and her cuntal lips to begin unfolding, 
juicing up for the attention she knew she was not going to have. No, much 
worse than that, for the attention she knew she must not have. 

The threat of committing incest with her very own young son, to violate his 
perfect flesh with her woman's body, to take his sweetly extended erection, 
nurturing it, and slip it firmly up inside that spasming, flexing, snapping 
cunt of hers and grind it down to a pulpy boycum, squeezing it dry, plagued 
her entire night, torturing her emotions and wringing them out, hanging them 
up to dry from her moistly sticky cunt hairs. 

She awoke with her three fingers jammed up inside her pussy, forcing the 
lips wide, her thumb grinding down against her clitoral nubbin and bringing 
about her fourth orgasm. 

Honey struggled out of bed, out of her sexual lethargy, forcing her thougth 
to leave the hunky flesh of her young son that she had, so lovingly, fondled 
the night before. She staggered into her shower and quickly douched herself, 
trying to wash away the muscle-straining tensions of the lonely night. 

When she went into the kitchen, Harold was already there, waiting for her, 
drinking a glass of orange juice he had found in the refrigerator. 

Neither of them knew how to act, so they both seemed to pretend nothing had 
happened the day before, except for Harold's injury, that is. 

"Are you feeling better this morning?" Honey asked, busying herself at the 
stove, making a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, and biscuits from 
a pop-out can. 

"Oh, just a little sore," Harold said. "My butt hurts when I move crooked." 

"Here, sit down," Honey said, putting eggs on the table. "Start eating. 
You'll feel much better tomorrow." 

Harold, famished for more things than just food, his loins still ablaze from 
the night's erection, the hard-on that plagued his fine young boyflesh, sat 
down sideways on the chair and began eating hungrily. When they had 
finished, Honey left him to unload the rest of his things from the pick-up 
truck and to rearrange his room as he wanted it to be, while she closed 
herself into her office and began the day's business. 

As usual, there were stacks of papers waiting for her, material to order, 
invoices to check, payments to be made-always that, some bill always due. 

She had just begun sorting the work, making her play for the day, when she 
decided, for some unknown reason, to check the close-circuit television 
scanners. Seated at the viewing console, three miniature television screens 
facing her, Honey began switching the cameras on one by one. Almost 
immediately one of the cameras picked up Wilhelm Zumwalt and the arrogant 
beauty, his incredibly heavy genitalia poking out the front of his pants, 
paused facing the camera to fondle and caress his lengthy cockshaft. 

Honey thought he looked particularly excited about something, the way he was 
leering in anticipation, stroking his cock, so she decided to watch him. 
Horse went directly to the back of one of the large Chevrolet vans that was 
being customized, turned into a movable lovenest for some very rich young 
man. The whole interior was one softly lush bed; 

Quickly switching to another camera, Honey was delighted to discover that it 
was aimed directly into the back of the van and she had a clear view of the 
whole interior. 

And the naked little girl who was grabbing at Horse, pulling at his clothes 
in an effort to get to his body. 

My God! Hot-box Honey thought, Why, she's just a child. She recognized the 
little girl as one of the neighborhood children, young Denise Wilson who 
lived down the street-only little Denise had done a streak of growing up 
since Honey had last paid any attention to her. For a kid, she sure did have 
nice breasts, and just a hint of pubic hairs flowering out around her little 
pink pussy. 

Both the child and the massive German man were completely oblivious to where 
they were, to the fact that any of the employees could spot them at any 
moment, the television cameras even. It was obvious to Honey that the only 
thing the naked, rutting couple could think of was the other's body. Denise 
was frantic to get at Horse's pendulous cock and Horse couldn't wait to dig 
into her kiddie cunt. 

The child, acting like the most brazen of professional streetwalkers, dived 
head first down onto Horse's cock, holding it upright in both her tiny hands 
that seemed to be dwarfed beside the massive column, and kissing it all 
over, waiting for it to erect fully and become the most massive hard-on 
Honey had ever seen. The child's little mouth could barely open wide enough 
to take in the whole broad cockhead, that she was laving lovingly with her 
lips and tongue, sucking on it and soaking it in her own spit, smearing the 
pre-cum that was oozing copiously out of the mouth of Horse's horsecock to 
slick it up, preparing it to slide into anything. 

Only it wasn't her anything that Horse was examining minutely. It was almost 
as if he had never seen a child's cunt before, he was so engrossed in it, 
checking it out for color and odor, licking at it for taste, watching the 
child squirm in anticipation as he did. Then he slowly began prying at the 
sides of the cuntal mouth, trying to spread it wide and guess at how much 
cock it could handle, caressing little Denise's fledgling clitoris and 
making it throb noticeably. 

Finally the child flopped back on the padded cushions and spread her legs 
wide, using her own hands to pull at the lips of her little girl pussy, 
opening it until Honey could see up inside it. The fuck hole of the child 
actually gaped open and Honey could see into the dark hot interior of the 
youngster. 

The television security system was silent and Honey cursed herself for not 
being able to hear what was going on inside the Chevy van, but her 
imagination did wonders for her. Denise was begging Horse to fuck her, that 
much was obvious from the way she kept elevating her hips and hunching her 
little pussy up at the big beautiful blond man's face. 

Horse dived down into her kiddie cunt, laving it with his tongue. From 
Honey's angle of vision, the camera was looking down directly on Horse's 
upraised buttocks and they flexed rhythmically as he mouthed the child's 
cunt, spreading until Honey could actually see the brown pucker of the man's 
asshole, surrounded by soft blond hairs. Then Horse moved sideways and Honey 
could see his face, buried in the child's groin, his tongue flicking in and 
out betwen Denise's tiny cuntlips, laving over her childish clitoris while 
the kid writhed against his cunt-licking face. Horse was dragging in heavy 
breaths of the child's pussy odor, and he was tasting the soothing freshness 
of her cock hole for the first time, though the child had been after his 
body for many weeks already. 

"Now, now," Denise seemed to be saying, and Horse stopped eating her cunt 
and -edged tighter between her legs, taking his horsecock in his hand and 
positioning it against the child's tiny little pussy lips. 

As she watched, Honey was oblivious to the fact that she had skinned down 
her slacks to her ankles and had peeled her panties off her hips, pushing 
them down as far as she could so she could get to her own woman's cunt, her 
hot-box already juicing up and snapping at her fondling fingers. 

Honey saw Horse pushing against the child's body, trying to drive his 
impossibly huge horsecock into the virgin cunt. He couldn't get it in. Honey 
actually thought she saw the child's sweet flesh pulling back around Horse's 
cockhead, trying to spread wide enough to accept the massive intruder inside 
the sweetly insistent virgin fuck hole. 

Horse's buttocks flexed and his cheeks squeezed tight from his efforts, his 
hip-driving muscle tension working, centering just on the broad, 
mushroom-like head of his oversized man's cock, drilling tightly against the 
child's unused pussy, pushing aside the tiny lips and disturbing the child's 
just growing black pubic hairs. 

In frustration, Horse backed away from Denise's pussy, figuring he would 
never be able to fuck the child. 

"No," Denise said, "you can't stop now. Here, let me suck it for you, get it 
slicked up again." 

Horse scrambled forward on his knees, stradling the child's tiny belly and 
sitting on her budding breasts, her tits digging into the hunky, hairy 
mounds of his arrogantly grown up buttocks and his fat hard cock shaft, 
bigger than her forearms, angled heavily out across the child's sweet young 
face. 

She grabbed at Wilhelm's cock and pulled, twisting it until it pointed at 
her mouth so she could start laving the frustrated, pulsating glands with 
her sweet young tongue, making it shine with her spit and his drooling 
pre-cum, shinging pearly white on the lips of his cock. 

Honey's fingers were making honey inside her hot-box, twirling and plunging 
in and out, toying with her clit, pulling at it, stroking it, grinding 
against it, making a froth of the fluids that gathered just inside her 
cuntal mouth to, slowly, dribble out and trickle down her smooth thighs. 
Honey was groaning audibly, rocking on the edge of her seat, throwing her 
hips sharply forward so her cuntal mouth opened and closed rhythmically 
against her plunging fingers, the side of her hand, finger fucking herself 
in a special pattern she had learned as a teenager much younger than Denise 
Wilson, but then, Hot-box Honey Jacobson had never had a horse-cocked 
Wilhelm Zumwalt to play with, either, when she needed him the most. 

Horse reached behind his back and used both of his hands to fumble until he 
found Denise's sweet young crotch, still spread wide open and waiting for 
the man. He slicked his hands, both of them, through her cuntal slit, 
working at it furiously, frictioning lengthwise through it and forcing his 
fingers deeper into it each time he passed by her child's clit, pulling, 
tugging at the sides of her cuntal walls as if, through power of his will 
alone, he was determined to make it stretch wide enough to accommodate his 
incredibly huge fuck staff. 

Denis continued to whimper and mouth the big broad head of this man's cock, 
taking as much of it into her throat as she could handle before choking, and 
suctioning on it hard. Her sweet lips were tightly sucked in around the 
cockhead, moving inside her mouth, her tongue drilling deeply down into 
Wilhelm's pisshole to taste the honeyed nectar of his balls, of his groin, 
his heady pre-cum flavor of lubrication juices. 

Wilhelm threw his head backward, lost in his ecstasy of having his cock 
sucked so sweetly by such an inexperienced young child while his big, 
brutalizing hands probed again and again into the secret hot-box of her 
satiny smooth cuntal lips, her pussy walls, trying to get them ready for 
something as big as his massive prong. 

Honey's fingers slid and slipped through her pussy, working at her clit, 
increasing the friction by varying the angles of penetration slightly and 
making slurping, plunging sounds that whipped up her own familiar odor until 
it hung just around her head, her nostrils, further inflaming her sexual 
desires that the sight of Horse with a full hard-on had already begun ... 
that the sight of the child's virgin pussy, snapping open and begging for 
her first fuck had kindled to a blue-white flame. 

Suddenly Denise cried out and jerked her head off of Horse's bulbous glans, 
his coronal ridge standing out sharply in the light because of the child's 
slicked-up spittle. "Oh, God hurry," she said. "You've got to get it in me. 
I can't wait. 

Put your big fat cock in me. I don't care if it rips my pussy wide open, 
I've got to have your prick in me." 

"Oh, yeah," Horse said, sliding down over her body, his heavy hanging balls 
briefly bouncing on her tiny tits, the nipples digging into the crinkly 
fleshed ballsac and poking through Horse's blond ball hairs. His sweaty 
buttocks parted across her trim flat belly, his feverish asshole dipping, 
smashing, pressing against her sweet little belly button in a butt-to navel 
kiss of fiery passion. Then, groaning, he scraped his ballsac through her 
just forming black pubic hairs, sighing with pleasure as the fevered contact 
of her cuntal flesh against the sensitve flesh of his asshole as it scraped 
across her throbbing clitoris and then his balls did, the coarse hairs on 
his ballsac making her twitch in pleasure and her cuntal lips to open yet 
wider, waiting for him. 

Horse dragged the whole long length of his cockshaft through the open slit 
of her little pussy lips, parted wide in anticipation. The contact of his 
cock flesh with her cunt flesh making both of them gasp and rush headlong 
into their unavoidable rutting, totally oblivious to anyone else, anything 
else, or any physical damage they might cause themselves. 

Groaning, grunting, Horse's buttocks flexed again and he stilled himself, 
readying for a long hard drive straight ahead. Horse pushed his hips forward 
with a heavy, determined effort while Denise gasped, tears filling her eyes, 
then she screamed aloud as Horse's whole broad cockhead tore into the child, 
ripping through her spreading cuntal lips to find a safe harbor inside the 
too tight cuntal walls, forcing them ever wider to make room for his 
impossibly huge man-sized cock, all of it, right down to his extra heavy, 
hairy balls. 

After pausing for just a moment, obviously grossly overheated from all his 
attempts to penetrate the sweet child's fragile little cunny, letting his 
huge cock spak in her sweet virginal juices, letting her sore cunt 
accommodate his bulk, adjust to his enormous size that, after all, hadn't 
torn her flesh, Horse was finally ready to fuck the sweet child. Raising her 
up slightly by slipping his hands beneath her tiny buttocks, Wilhelm 
adjusted the angle of her crotch to better line up with his cockshaft then, 
in rapid rhythm, he began a tattoo of cock-sinking plunges that sent the 
child rocketing over the edge of her orgasm, too long delayed, longdicking 
the kid with his incredible cock, pulling it almost all the way out each 
time until Honey could actually see the sweet flesh of her virginal cuntal 
walls pulling outward, folding out around his massive cock shaft as it 
pulled out each time, even his broad coronal ridge relentlessly stretching 
the cunt lips of the kid with each stroke, threatening to come all the way 
out. 

And then he was having his cum. Honey could tell from the pace of his 
prick-plunges, a loud, flesh-on-flesh slapping sound that drilled again and 
again into her ears. 

But wasn't her sounds at all! Startled, Honey turned around, looking behind 
her. Her mouth open in awe, her fingers milking her clit for the last 
sensation of her chain-like orgasm, and saw.... 

Beautiful little Harold Jacobson, his virgin cock fully hard and outstanding 
in his fist, his heavy boyballs swaying beneath it in their hairless 
ballsac, Harold's dear little fist, cupped tight around his cock, his hips 
hunched forward, knees bent, fist-fucking at" a furious pace, watching his 
mother masturbate watching Horse fuck the little girl in the back of the 
Chevy van. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

"Oh, God, Harold!" Hot-box Honey Jacobson said, standing up and facing her 
young son. Her slacks were caught around her ankles, making her movement 
difficult, and her black-lace panties were there, too, up against the 
slacks. Honey's fingers were still inside her cuntal mouth and her juices, 
whipped up from her fingerfucking, slowly trickled down her smooth, satiny 
thighs. 

The heady aroma of her arousal cleanly stroked the boy's nostrils, making 
them flare wide, horse-like, dragging in large helpings of her inflamed 
cuntal smell, savoring the scent and using it to enhance his own abundant 
arousal. 

"Mother!" he said, managing to gasp out the one word, watching her turn to 
face him, her lower torso naked and clearly open to his view, her trim, flat 
tummy, the intoxicating bush of reddish blonde pussy hairs spreading 
arrowhead-like atop her slit, held open by her fingers to where he could see 
the sweet pink inner flesh of her pussy, the glistening labia, wet with her 
juices, and the trail of dampness down both her thighs. The odor of her sex 
alone, enough to give the boy instantaneous hard-on, had his boycock not 
already been overly extended. 

Still, the sight of it caused his cock to throb visibly in his fist and jerk 
outward yet harder. The pounding, flesh-on-flesh slapping sound of his 
fist-fucking slowly ebbed to a stop, but he didn't release the tight grip he 
had around his cockshaft as he stood there, pointing the head of it directly 
at his mother, his youthful boyballs swaying in agitation beneath the heavy 
shaft of his cock. 

"It's all right, dear," Honey said, her lust-inflamed mind taking over 
direction of her body, of her will, determined with, and nothing more. 
"Don't worry, let me take care of everything." 

And while the boy watched, Honey kicked aside her shoes and peeled both her 
pants and her panties off her feet at the same time, standing again to face 
the youngster, brazenly and openly, deliberately moving her legs wide apart 
so her agitated, friction-rubbed red pussy lips could gape open and the boy 
could see the hot inner flesh glowing feverishly with deep pink fuck 
tissues. 

"Just watch, dear," Honey said, slowly unbuttoning the silk print blouse 
down the front and pulling the sides apart, revealing the soft white cotton 
bra she had thought she had better wear around Harold, that she probably 
would never wear again in all the rest of her life. Honey shrugged her 
shoulder and the fabric of the silk slid noisily down her back and fluttered 
to the floor. Then, slowly, reaching behind her back, Honey unfastened the 
bra and dropped it. It fell directly to the floor, baring all her flesh to 
the boy's rivited gaze. 

Jesus! young Harold thought, looking at his naked mother. Nothing had ever 
been so provocative, not even the pictures in Hustler he had seen once or 
twice before. Honey was definitely smaller than the boy, and she weighed 
less, but it was her clear blue eyes, only slightly glazed with her 
passionate lust, and her starkly blonde hair that made her all the more 
appealing to the youngster, like a sweet, virginal fairy queen, he thought. 

"Now you, dear," Honey said, standing in place and motioning for her son to 
strip. "It's okay. Go ahead." 

Fumbling with his loafers, finally getting them off, young Harold pulled his 
pants off his feet, then his tight Jockeys. As he stood up, he suddenly felt 
embarrassed, realizing that his cock was hard and that his loins were 
flushed with a fever he had never before experienced. He thought of trying 
to cover his sex flesh, to hide it from her view, but abandoned the effort. 
After all, she had not only seen it the night before but she had actually 
touched it, caressed it longingly, possessively. 

Maybe she'll do it again, he thought in his boyish naivety. 

All he was wearing then was a red and white striped Rugby shirt and he 
pulled it over his head, quickly skinning out of it and dropping the shirt 
to the side. 

Suddenly, young Harold was as naked as his mother, and just as sexually 
aroused, though in his case his need to fuck was clearly more visible than 
in hers. You couldn't really see how excited she was, like you could from 
looking at the boy's sweet cock and balls. 

Just the sight of her son's cock made her throat catch in her body and her 
breath quicken, it was that spectacular, long and heavy hanging and 
flawless, with nothing to mar it's flawless beauty. 

As the boy had been undressing, his cock had slowly started relaxing, 
shrinking slightly, though still quite tumescent and elongated, only the 
angle had slipped slightly and it was sticking out at a heavy arc, angling 
just slightly downward over his heavy, hairless ballsac, the sweet, 
protective foreskin of it just rolled back slightly, covering more than half 
of the streamlines, laid-back cockhead, the heavy ridge of his corona easily 
visible, because of the engorgement of his cockhead, beneath the prepuce. 

Just the tip end of the boy's cockhead, the sweet mouth of it, the lips 
holding tight to a shiny white globule of pearly pre-cum, peeked out from 
beneath the prepuce. His boyish balls, almost as attractive as the shaft of 
his cock, as the head of it, hung gently below the shaft, already drawn up 
more than halfway toward the base of it, getting ready to turn loose a hot, 
heavy load of boycum. 

"Christ, Harold," Honey said, walking toward him, her arms spread wide, 
"you're so beautiful. I just want to kiss you all over." 

She took him in her arms and pulled him into her chest, crushing his 
pectorals against the uptilted areola of her breasts, the nipples digging 
savagely into his firm boy's flesh, though not quite so savagely as did his 
cock, springing to instant full erection and poking solidly into Honey's 
deeply inset navel. His youthful balls slapped noisily against her mons, 
brushing through her red-blonde pubic hairs and nestling solidly into them. 

Harold's arms closed around his mother's back instinctively, pulling her to 
him, crushing her with his youthful strength and enthusiasm. The fever in 
his loins had suddenly spread throughout him, inflaming all of his senses 
and he was weak in the knees. He knew he would surely pass out from 
excitement at any moment. 

"Oh, yes, yes, baby," Honey said, crooning to him, rocking him gently, 
rolling him from side to side so her breasts smeared around on his chest, 
leaving twin trials of fire in their wake, so his cock smeared around on her 
belly, poking at her warm flesh, depositing a snail-trail of his slick 
lubricating pre-cum wherever it moved. "Hurry, come to bed with me!" 

"She jumped up onto her bed and it bounced and vibrated while she turned, 
facing the appraoching boy, her arms spread wide to accept him, her legs 
spread even wider, in more brazen, more open invitation, the moist pink 
inner flesh of her cuntal walls seeming to sparkle with allure. 

With his cock bobbing wildly in front of him, his balls bouncing up and down 
with his movement, young Harold climbed awkwardly up into the bed beside his 
mother, radiating heat from every pore of his overexcited boy's body. 

"Forgive me, dear," Hot-box Honey said, "I'm not sure this is the right time 
or the right place, but I've just got to ... got to ... make love to you." 

Looking at his mother in shocked amazement, young Harold gasped. He wanted 
just that more than he had ever wanted anything in his life, and there was 
no way he wanted to do anything to delay his mother from her stated goal. 
Actually, he didn't know what to do, how to react, or what was expected of 
him. 

"I don't know how, Mo-" he began, but she quickly cut him off. 

"Honey, remember?" she said, taking his cockshaft, in her fingers gently and 
pulling downward, peeling back the rest of his foreskin and watching closely 
as it firmed up along the shaft and the shining, satiny smooth skin of his 
glans fleshed out wider and harder in all its super-sensitive glory. 

"I don't know what to do," little Harold said, looking at his mother's frail 
hand caressing his huge hard-on. "I feel so dumb...." 

"Shhh," Honey said, shushing him. "Just relax, dear. I'll show you what to 
do, how to do it. Everything." 

"Everything," Harold groaned in anticipation. "Oh, God...!" 

Still holding his cock by the base, pushing heavily down into his flesh, 
against his belly, his groin, capturing even his drawn-up boyballs against 
the base of his dick, she held it rigidly upright, hard and steely, 
completely engorged, fully erect, and breathed on the head of it, watching 
it pulsate and throb with his heartbeat, watching the pearly pre-cum appear 
quicker at his cuntal lips and hang there, heavily, smelling feverish and 
boyfunky, his sweet sex flesh drawing her on like a magnet. 

Honey's tongue flicked out between her lips like a snake and fluttered just 
over the boy's cockhead and she heard him gasp, watching her and trying to 
anticipate her movements. Without further delay, she licked the head of her 
son's hard cock, slurping up the globule of his nectary pre-cum and tasting 
of it, rolling it around in her mouth to savor the heady flavor of her boy's 
fuck juice that was like passion's nectar to her, urging her on to greater 
excesses. 

Opening her lips wide enough to take in all of his huge swelling cockhead, 
the wide flaring coronal ridge and all, Honey moved her head forward, 
sinking down over his fuck flesh and letting her tongue, hot and moist, 
slick down over his cockhead until it bottomed out in her throat, unable to 
take more of its bulk into her. 

Harold gasped and groaned, his hips flying upwardly sharply in an 
involuntary movement at the feel of her sweet lips softly enfolding his fuck 
shaft, her tongue teasing the usually protected, foreskin-free, 
super-sensitive head of his cock. His balls drew up tighter, close to the 
base of his dick and it was all he could do t o keep from cumming, right 
then, right there, in his mother's sweet, cock-pleasuring mouth. 

Honey's hands began kneading his flesh at the base of his cock, and digging 
into his balls, cupping them, squeezing them, encouraging them to give up 
the ghost, to turn loose the load, to go ahead and have his long pent-up 
orgasm. 

Her head began bobbing wildly, moving up and down on his knob inside her 
mouth, twisting around on it in corkscrew fashion, touching it from every 
angle, laving it lovingly with her tongue, working on it with a passion she 
had never unleashed before, even with Harold Senior, young Harold's 
well-hung father. 

The boy started hunching against her mouth, fucking it as best he could 
using the instinctive movements originating within his loins, his 
hot-flushed groin, driving his hard-on as far down into her throat as he 
could as she continued the suctioning, twisting, cockhead-torturing 
movements of her mouth, her lips, and her tongue. 

"Oh, God, God," the boy said, gasping, spittle drooling out the sides of his 
mouth, his bright green eyes coated with lust and filmed over. His hands 
unconsciously closing over her head and digging into her bright blond 
strands, forcing her down onto his cock harder, faster, fucking her head up 
and down on his cock that was fucking up and down to meet it, drilling it 
into her as hot and as hard as he could, oblivious to anything like pain, 
like the rasping, torturous tricks her tongue was doing to his overly 
sensitive cockhead, his widespread pisslips. 

"It's the best thing I ever felt in my whole life," he said, knowing the end 
was near for him. "I'm almost there, Honey. I'm going to cum. You better 
stop, or it'll be too late. I'm gonna ... I'm gonna...." 

Rather than stopping, his words were like a sweet symphony to Hot-box Honey, 
so she redoubled her efforts at his cockhead, at torturing it pleasantly, at 
digging into his pisshole and trying to scoop his cum out from it, of 
whirling around from side to side, suctioning harder and harder. 

"Christ, I'm going to cum!" the boy said. "I FEEL IT ALL THE WAY UP MY 
COCKSHAFT, MOVING LIKE FIRE. MY CUM ... IT'S ... OH, GOD, NOW, IT'S 
HAPPENING. ITS-ITS-MY CUM IS RIPPING OUT OF MY COCKHEAD! CAN YOU FEEL IT? 
CAN YOU? JESUS CHRIST, ARE YOU DRINKING MY CUM RIGHT OUT OF MY COCKHEAD?" 

Gurgling, gasping, swallowing as fast as she could, Honey drank from the 
fuck fountain of her very own son's sweet hot cockflesh, pulling in heavy 
swallows of his freshly manufactured virgin's cum and savoring the flavor as 
long as she could before she had to swallow to try to take in the next 
jetting splurt as it jetted from his cockhead right into her greedy throat. 
Even long after he had finished cumming, after his balls and his cockshaft 
and his groin had been suctioned dry, each drop of it deposited deeply 
inside Hot-box Honey's stomach, did she continue sucking on his cockhead. 
Even after all the pleasure was used up and it started to feel different, 
not so good, did she continue sucking on it. 

Twisting to his side, pulling his cock out of his mother's mouth, looking 
down and noticing how sparkling clean it was, not even a trace of his cum 
anywhere to be seen, his fuck flesh almost raw and red like from all her 
devoted attention, Harold sighed contentedly and flopped back against the 
pillows of his mother's big wide bed. 

"Shit, Honey," he said, "that was the most fantastic thing that's ever 
happened to me. It was really wonderful. I liked it a lot, but there's one 
thing I've always dreamed of, and you've just got to let me do it, now, 
after that. Please, Honey, please, let me fuck you. Just let me put it 
inside you ... there ... and see what it feels like." 

"Oh, God, Harold," Honey said, looking up into her son's sweet clean 
innocent face. "What have I done? OH, WHAT HAVE I DONE?" 

She was suddenly flooded with remorse, with shame, for the inexcusable crime 
against God and nature that she had just committed by actually having sex 
with her very own flesh and blood. 

"It's awful, Harold," she said. "Don't you know it's wrong, what we did? 
It's-it's incest, Harold. That's a crime. Oh, God, what'll we do? What'll we 
do?" 

Puzzled, Harold had difficulty following his-mother's words. "I don't know. 
Honey," he said. "All I know is that it was great, and I want a lot more of 
it, as often as I can stand it. Just look, my dick's getting hard again. 
Watch it stretch out and shape up. I like to watch it move all by itself. 
Please, Honey ... Mother ... you've just got to let me fuck you. I can't 
stand it if you won't let me put my cock in your-in your-there, your 
thing...." 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Standing in her big shower stall alone, Hot-box Honey Jacobson let all her 
thirty-five years flash before her eyes in a few brief mintues. She was 
gloriously naked, her long blonde hair down to her shoulders and getting 
wetter by the second, her deep blue eyes flashing as she caressed her one 
hundred and thirteen pounds all over, loving the way the hot water opened 
her pores and began getting her ready to face the day. 

Then, just as her hand slid through her cuntal lips and touched briefly just 
inside the soft buttery depths of it, coming into direct contact with her 
super-sensitive clitoris, the horrible thing she had done the night before 
came abruptly to her mind. 

Oh, my God! she thought, the shame of it all washing over her like hot 
molten boycum, melting sweetly in her mouth and trickling down her 
cock-squeezing throat. 

I did it! I actually did. I-I raped my own dear sweet son. I took his sweet 
sex flesh and manipulated it and caressed it and aroused the child until his 
cock was hard. And I massaged his dear little halls, cupping them together 
and squeezing them gently. Then I-I actually.... 

Christ! I went down on him. I took his dear sweet cockhead into my mouth and 
I sucked on it. I licked it with my tongue and felt of it all over, top, 
bottom, and sides, even into the tiny pisshole that tasted so precious, so 
delicious. 

I squeezed at it, caressed it, sucking on it until my little Harold's 
big-boy cock shot off into my mouth. My own dear son's honey-sweet cum. 

Incest! 

Oh, God! I actually made him cum in my mouth and, like the most wanton whore 
that ever existed, I literally ate it all, swallowing it, taking my son's 
cum into my stomach, digesting it, making it a part of me, like he is a part 
of me. Even his precious cock and balls, they came from me, out of my old 
pussy. 

My very own flesh and blood. Oh, Jesus, how can I ever repair the damage 
I've done? The shame of it all ... the sin.... 

And while Honey Jacobson's thoughts tortured her for seducing her son 
Harold, her hands did something entirely different. They took the big bar of 
green and white striped Irish Spring and worked up a frothing lather in her 
palms, then began laving the slick foam into her labia, working at her 
cuntal lips, spreading them gently, prying them apart to reach deeper inside 
the soft, fiery depths of her pussy with her fingers, stroking again and 
again the slick, pulsating length of her clit, her knees sagging with 
weakness, her hips hunching gently forward, fucking against her 
cunt-pleasing strokes. 

While her mind ripped her apart, her hands soothed the pain in the quickest, 
most thorough fashion possible. 

Even without knowing it, Honey began a humming, sing-song of pleasure pain 
that echoed, audibly, the faint ripples of the cycling miniature orgasms she 
was having, the tiny string of little cums that fluttered through her 
spasming vagina to tease her brain, to make her want something much more 
effective up inside her fuck hole, something very much like the hot hard 
cock she had nursed to overflowing cum the night before. 

Young Harold Jacobson had also spent a tormented night, though his thoughts 
were far from sin and centered almost entirely around pleasure. Not that the 
boy was totally devoted to hedonism, no way, it was just that he had never 
had the sinful aspects of an incestuous relationship drilled into him, 
consequently he could see nothing wrong with taking his pleasure wherever it 
appeared. 

After all. Honey was considerably less than a mother to him than she was a 
strikingly beautiful female. He had never really known her in the mother 
role, why should he, suddenly, he expected to accept her as just that when, 
looking at her, all his eyes could see was a fantastic body and two 
incredible tits, some pubic hair and a.... 

A CUNT! Yes, by God, a cunt, he thought, saying the word to himself freely, 
without conscience pains, for the very first time. 

Harold's cock twitched and jerked heavily. He could feel it beginning to 
squirm in response to his thoughts and lengthen. Only too soon, he knew, it 
would begin to fill out, growing fatter and harder, until it reached its 
full length and the foreskin would peel clear of his cockhead, leaving the 
otherwise protected flesh vulnerable to every pleasant sensation that direct 
contact with it would register in his never-endings, in his fuck-feverish 
brain. 

Unconsciously, Harold reached down and stroked his balls, pulling them free 
of the confinement where they had been caught between his smooth hairless 
thighs and letting them flop heavily as he swung his legs off the side of 
his bed and sat up, his slightly tumescent cock lifting slowly out over his 
balls, angling heavily in a downward drooping arch as it jerked more and 
more upright, filling out fuller and fatter. 

Harold couldn't even remember getting into his bed the night before, his 
mind was so flooded with the sweet remembrances of his mother's dear mouth, 
tightly suctioning around the knob of his cock, siphoning out all the 
pleasure the boy could stand, draining his balls of his sweet virginal cum 
as she swallowed it right down. 

Standing, his cock, now at right angles to his body, moved violently from 
side to side and his balls bounced heavily, bottoming out in their nearly 
hairless ballsac, the crinkly flesh of it looking precious and very 
boy-like, even vulnerable beneath the very heavy, rapidly rising fuck 
column. 

Hating the feeling of frustration, his mind totally occupied with his need, 
finally, to fuck. To sink his big hard-on into the willing pussy of some 
willing woman. To find out for the very first time exactly what the thing 
his cock, his balls, had been created to do, their prime function. 

FUCKING!!!! 

Harold started walking toward his bathroom, needing to urinate, the sharp 
pain of his morning piss-hard-on making his bladder ache, only he knew his 
cock would have to get much softer than it was in order for him to be able 
to piss in the first place. 

Even that pleasure was to be denied him for the moment. 

He was. standing just inside his half-open doorway when he heard the sounds. 
There was lots of running water, only that wasn't it. It was the moaning, 
groaning sounds that captured his attention, like someone in pain. Harold 
wasn't familiar enough with the noises to identify them as pleasure, that 
would come in time, with experience, listening to fuck sounds close up at 
first hand. 

Momentarily ignoring his painful bladder, his agonizingly hard boy cock, 
Harold rushed toward the other bathroom, the big one in his mother's room. 
As he moved, his balls bounced from side to side because of the action of 
his legs and his cock pointed first this way and then the other, angling 
sharply upward, almost flat against his trim young belly. 

Just inside the doorway of Honey's bathroom, he stopped and looked around. 
He could see his mother inside the big shower stall. Her fuzzy outlines were 
clearly revealed to him through the amber-colored plastic shower door. 

She was radiantly naked and Harold could see her long flowing hair, the 
flashes of shell-pink-brown areola capped by deeper brown nipples that were 
her irresistible breasts. Then, between billows of white foam and her moving 
hands, he saw it again. 

Her cunt. Her pretty red-blonde pussy hairs. The hot pink inner lips inside 
her cuntal mouth. 

Harold's hard-on snapped rigidly upright, flat against his belly, with an 
audible flesh-on-flesh sound. His balls twisted slightly and began to draw 
up tighter against the base of his fat hard boycock. 

Oh, God, he thought, she's so beautiful. If only the amber color wasn't in 
the way and I could see her naked flesh again, with nothing between her body 
and mine. 

His fist closed tight around his cockshaft and he began milking the column, 
pounding up and down on the shaft making it, if anything, grow fatter and 
fuller while taking on friction marks and the imprint of his fingers, making 
the big broad cockhead swell tightly and turn darker pink as it throbbed and 
pulsated. 

Gone completely was the pain of his bladder, of his urgent need to piss. 
Something much more important was much closer at hand. His cock. His 
mother's completely unknown pussy. 

Unable to control himself any longer, Harold sobbed and gasped aloud, 
reaching out with his free hand to pull the shower door open so he could 
look at the naked flesh of his dear mother. 

Honey's back was to the boy and she did not hear the door open, so intent 
was she upon her fingerfucking, her hands sliding furiously through her 
cuntal lips and across her clit, again and again. 

Blind with his need, moving totally upon masculine instinct alone, Harold 
stepped inside the huge shower stall and closed the door behind himself. He 
wasn't even trying not to make noise. In fact, he didn't hear anything, not 
even the sound of running water. 

Harold moved right up against his mother's slick, wet back, his hard cock 
nestling rightly in the crack of her ass and his arms snaking right around 
her, capturing a breast in each palm, squeezing and massaging them while the 
rigid nipples poked out between his fingers. 

Shuddering, momentarily caught up by fright. Honey finally realized who the 
strong man was behind her, his desperately needed cock poking rigidly into 
the crack of her ass, was ... her own dear sweet little boy ... so she cast 
all her moral reservations to the winds and surrendered back against him, 
weakly melting against his flesh. 

Her buttocks merged with his groin and her cheeks seemed to snap tightly 
together, capturing all of his hot hard cock, squeezing it in the fire-grip 
of her backside. His sweet young black pubic hairs dug into her lower waist, 
further inflaming her desires. 

Her tongue entered his mouth just as her belly crushed against his 
cockshaft, grinding it into her flesh and mashing his boyballs tight against 
his thighs. 

Harold close his arms around her back, sliding them down low, and cupping 
her buttocks. As their kiss continued, he began massaging her asscheeks, 
grinding them inward to push her body closer, tighter against his feverish 
groin, finally separating the tight cheeks with his fingers and letting them 
run up and down in her wet crack, toying with her tiny puchered anal ring, 
turning her on like crazy. 

Her juiced-up cunt was already so overheated she could hardly stand it and 
she could tell from the firmness of his erection, pressed against her belly, 
the broad head of it nestled against her belly button, that the boy was as 
ready as he would ever be for the next step in his sexual education. 

"Honey," he said, gasping at her, "I'm going to fuck you, regardless of what 
you say about it. I've just got to know what it feels like, with my cock up 
inside you. You're driving me crazy, I want you so much." 

"Oh, Harold," Honey said, melting against him, surrendering completely to 
his dominant will, glad that he was, through his superior strength, taking 
the decision-making completely out of her hands, absolving her of the guilt 
of her sinful compulsions. 

"I-I really don't know how, Honey," he said, "but I'm going to find out. I 
know the basics, but you'll have to show me the refinements." 

"Anything, Harold," Honey said. "Just anything you want, my little lover." 

"Little!" Harold said, butting his belly against her. "Does that feel little 
to you?" 

"Oh, God, no," Honey said. "Hurry, Harold. I can't wait either, put it in 
me. Oh, Harold, give me your cock. PUT YOUR COCK IN MY OLD PUSSY! HURRY! DO 
IT!" 

Harold lifted his mother up like she was a toy, still holding her by her 
buttocks, while her thighs parted and slipped around his hips and her arms 
locked tightly around his head. Then he released her buttocks with one hand 
and fumbled around between their bellies, taking the shaft of his cock and 
bending it down, angling it beneath her until it slid in to the tight crack 
of her cuntal mouth, becoming soaked with her pussy juices and ignited by 
the completely unexpected heat of her there. 

"Oh yes, yes, Harold," Honey said, moaning, her head against his strong 
shoulder, "that's it, honey. Now, do it. PUT IT IN ME! PUT YOUR COCK IN MY 
PUSSY, HAROLD!" 

Hunching forward, causing her to bob up and down quickly, he was surprised 
to find that the whole head of his cock had slipped effortlessly into her 
tight hot pussy. The feeling was so good, so completely unexpected to the 
young unfucked boy, that he lost control. 

Recognizing that the first taste of her cunt was pushing her son right over 
the edge of his orgasm. Honey began bobbing up and down rapidly on his fat 
cockshaft, bottoming out on it each time she moved down, pushing tightly 
against his drawn-up boyballs, feeling him hip-hunching into her and his 
pubic mound grinding again and again into her delicate, sensitive clitoris 
as the broad bulbous head of his boycock, far up inside her fevered belly, 
began releasing a heavy stream of pure white boycum. It flowed out of his 
cockmouth in torrents, it seemed, of fire-hot boyfuck fluid, bathing her 
cuntal walls in soothing balm as they rippled along the length of his shaft, 
snapping and flexing tightly around it, milking it of all the boy juice her 
talented pussy could claim. 

Screaming in a whining hum of passion, Harold pushed his cock as far up into 
his mother's soft buttery cuntal depths as he could, ecstatic at the feel of 
his cum, rushing through his cock and splashing free inside her pussy. His 
very first fuck. His very first orgasm with his whole cock up inside a 
woman. 

Harold Jacobson was a virgin no more, thanks to the talented twat of his 
incestuous mother, Hot-box Honey and her very, very hot box. 

 CHAPTER NINE 

Wilhelm Zumwalt was hornier than usual that morning. His horse-cock hanging 
heavily inside his pants, throbbing, nagging at him. For a while he thought 
it might have been because of that tight-cunted little kid from down the 
street, little Denise Wilson, who had been after him for so long to fuck her 
that he had finally given in the day before. 

The kid had a real natural talent, Horse knew, once she was juiced up enough 
to take his enormous cock inside her little cunny. She literally fucked him 
ragged, leaving him a cummed-out wreck, weak-kneed and shaking for the rest 
of the day. 

Horse's cock was so raw, frictioned as it was inside her too tight twat, 
that it felt like fresh meat to him most of the night, and he thought it 
would never lose some of that raw-red swelling. Only it had; his cock 
finally shrank down to its usual enormous size, and the swelling went away 
with most of the rubbed-raw redness. 

And, driving to Jacobson's Custom Body and 4WD Oasis that morning, Wilhelm's 
lusts had become fixated on Hot-box Honey again. Once he had fucked the 
little kid, young Denise Wilson quickly faded from his memory and the one he 
wanted but couldn't get his cock into returned, again, to prominent, 
fore-front position. Hot-box Honey Jacobson, the cunt he had wanted for so 
very long. The only cunt he had ever wanted who didn't literally fall at his 
feet, her thighs widespread, her pussy open and waiting for his rampant 
hard-on. 

Goddamn you, Honey, he thought, parking in his spot inside the compound and 
getting out of his car. He had come early, as usual, to open the shop and 
get things ready for the day. In earlier days, when he had been heavily 
after Honey's box, he had had coffee with her in the mornings, talking sweet 
seductions to her until she had turned off of him completely, almost 
ignoring him outside their necessary business relationship. 

His heavy cock throbbed again, walking across the yard, and his balls bulged 
out heavily, pushing against the fabric of his pants. 

I should just go right up those stairs and jump into her bed, he thought. 
Wake her cunt up good to what she's been missing. He stroked his slightly 
swelling cock through his pants. 

I ought to ram this pole up into her fuck hole before she knew what was 
happening and fuck the shit out of her. Goddamn uppity bitch, she wants my 
cock as much as I want to slip it to her. 

As if giving way to his desired, Wilhelm walked right up the stairs and into 
the office, looking around. Still early, he thought. She's still sleeping, 
her pretty little body naked in bed, I bet. 

He pushed at the door leading to Honey's private apartment and was very 
surprised at finding it open. It was almost locked, when he tried it before. 
Opening the door quietly, Horse slipped inside, stopping with his back to 
the door and listening carefully. 

She's in the shower, he thought, hearing the running water. Then he heard 
the rest of it. 

Jesus Christ! The bitch! The groaning, whining sounds of fucking were well 
known to Horse, who above all people had worked at perfecting the art, 
sharing his enormous genitalia with anyone who would stand still long enough 
to partake of it. 

Wilhelm walked right through Honey's bedroom and into her bathroom, coming 
up starkly still, staring at the big shower stall. They were both in it, 
together, naked, fucking, Honey and her kid. 

Jesus Christ! She's fucking her own kid. She'll fuck that little bastard but 
she won't let me get mine in her. Goddamn that bitch! 

Through the fuzzy amber-colored plastic shower door. Horse could see their 
two bodies mashed together and rutting in the feverishness of their joined 
passions. 

He could clearly see the boy put his hands beneath her buttocks and raise 
her up so her thighs could split around him, grabbing him tight and her hot 
fuck box nudge up against the kid's cock and balls. He watched her cling to 
the kid's neck while he fumbled down between them with his hand, taking his 
cock and rubbing it all around her fuck hole, juicing it up good and playing 
with her old clit with the head of his boycock. 

Goddamn you. kid. Horse thought. It should be my dick rubbing her juicy old 
cunt that war. 

Listening, Horse heard Honey's words: "Oh yes, yes, Harold, that's it, 
honey. Now, do it. PUT IT IN ME! PUT YOUR COCK IN MY PUSSY, HAROLD!" 

He saw it all. Honey swinging down hard on the kid's pole, taking all of it 
up inside her hot fuck hole before the little boy knew what was happening to 
him. She bottomed out on it. riding the kid like he was a rocking horse, all 
set up for little-girl fucking, using his cock for her own satisfaction 
alone, totally ignoring the boy it was growing out of. 

I'll teach that bitch what fucking's all about, Horse thought, quickly 
taking off his shoes and his socks, starting to undress. Let's see her keep 
my cock out of her now, after I've caught her red-handed in the act of 
fucking her own kid. Why, that's, that's incest. She could go to prison for 
this crime. 

Wilhelm began chortling under his breath as he finished undressing, finally 
standing tall and naked in Honey's bathroom, his clothes kicked to the side, 
his hot hard cock sticking out in front of him for miles, it seemed, long 
and gnarled like a horse's cock, and roped with heavy blood-filled veins. 
The burgeoning head of his cock itself was like the end of a battering ram, 
much used and thoroughly fucked, and all red and dripping pearly juice off 
the cocklips, drooling in anticipation of sinking all the way up inside 
hot-box Honey Jacobson's pretty little blonde-haired cunny. 

Picking up a large heavy bath towel, Horse opened the shower door and turned 
off the flowing water. 

"Here," he said, handing the towel to Honey, "use this, I don't want to fuck 
you while you're all wet. Hurry, get in bed as soon as you dry." 

"Jesus Christ," Honey said, staring at Horse in amazement. Slowly her legs 
slipped down from around Harold's hips, his thighs, and her cunt, still 
tightly clamped around Harold's full erection, pulled heavily at it, her 
weight now being supported completely by just his hard-on alone. 

Gulp! Harold swallowed hard, recognizing that he was caught in a very poor 
position indeed, except for the fine feeling surrounding his cock, that is, 
where it soaked in his heavy boycum, deep inside his mother's hot buttery 
cuntal mouth. 

"Okay, kid," Horse said, "you can pull it out now. It's time for a man to 
take over and show you what fuckin's really all about." 

Listening to Horse's words had a peculiar effect on Harold, or maybe it was 
just the sudden, unexpected sight of the big blond giant of a man, totally 
naked, his cock so big and hard it defied imagination. Whatever it was, 
Harold's cock, finished completely with his cumming, began to rapidly 
shrink, curling up into itself there inside Honey's cunny until, finally, it 
plopped free of her pussy lips, a heavy string of his cum flowing out with 
it, keeping the head of his cock and her cuntal lips connected with his fuck 
fluids and her pussy juices. 

"Not bad, for a beginner, kid," Horse said, looking down at Harold's still 
slightly tumescent genitalia, friction red and cum-streaked. He grabbed at a 
second towel and handed it to Harold. 

"Here," he said, "wipe the pussy juice off your dick and watch closely, if 
you're going to be a fucker, you better learn from the best." 

"Get out of here right this instant, Wilhelm Zumwalt," Honey said, trying 
her best to appear indignant, standing in front of the big blond man naked, 
wiping the cum off her cunt lips that was drooling out of it from where her 
young son had just ejaculated inside her, filling her fuck hole to 
overflowing with virgin boyfuck fluid. 

Horse laughed and gripped his cock, shaking it at her like a pointer and 
grinning broadly. "Hurry up, you bitch," he said, "and get down on my fuck 
stick. I caught you red-handed having ... what is it they say? ... carnal 
knowledge of your own little boy. Disgusting. Why, you could go to jail for 
a crime like that ... if I said the right thing to the right person, that 
is...." 

"Oh, God," Honey said, turning suddenly pale and weak-kneed. "You wouldn't. 
You couldn't be that cruel, that heartless...." 

"I don't know, Honey," Horse said, "you been bad to me for a long time. You 
know how much I want to ball you, but you keep turning me down like some 
kind of filth. I guess it depends on how good you can be to me now, to 
this...." He shook his cockshaft at her again, rubbing the head of it up 
against her hip, leaving a snail streak of his oozing pre-cum across her 
pale pink skin. 

"Oh, God," Honey said, "Oh God!" 

"Hurry up, bitch," Horse said, "and get into the bedroom. Can't you see my 
cock needs you right now?" 

"Hey, you can't do that," Harold said, suddenly finding his voice. 

"Shut up, kid," Horse said, "and listen good. I got you by the balls now, 
see, and the quicker you learn that, both of you, the better we'll all get 
along. Now you just stand still and watch. Who knows, I might even let you 
have some of it. Don't leave and don't put on any clothes. I've never had a 
naked audience before, while I fuck. It'll be interesting, watching your 
reaction to watching me ream out your old lady." 

When they reached the bed. Horse moved up onto it, into the center, fluffing 
up the pillows and leaning back against them like a kind in his harem, 
looking down over his belly, his hot hard cock, to the foot of the bed. "Now 
you, kid," Horse said, "stand up close. I want you to see everything, to 
hear everything, to even smell everything. I want you to do everything but 
put your face right in it while we do it, you hear me?" 

Gulp! Harold swallowed hard, the sound rang clear in the big bedroom. 
"Yeah," he said, "I hear good." 

Horse laughed and winked conspiratorily at the boy, then turned his full 
attention to Honey Jacobson. 

"Let's see what a little taste of this does for you, baby," Horse said, 
picking his cock up again and aiming it at her, pointing the battering-ram 
head of it at her face. "Come on, baby, climb up here and slide down on this 
pole. Eat it. Eat my cock raw." 

"Oh, God, oh, God," Honey said, moaning, knowing that she was helpless to do 
anything except whatever the depraved, arrogant German directed her to do. 
Slowly, reluctantly, she moved up onto the bed from the foot of it, crawling 
between Horse's widespread legs, feeling the coarse blond hairs teasing 
along her hips, the sides of her body, torturing her with lustful 
depravities. 

"Eat my cock, you bitch," Horse said, watching her slow movements, wanting 
to hurry her along. 

"Oh, God," Honey said, reaching down slowly and taking the huge shaft of his 
gnarled dick in her two hands, hefting, trying to reach around it. It was 
too large to believe, really, even though it was right there in front of her 
face. She could even smell it, it was that strongly male. A faint hint of 
foulness creeped up from below Horse's balls, from the dank darkness of his 
ass crack, and his balls were sweat-shiny with a film of his perspiration. 
There was also the odor of stale piss that assailed her nostrils, but still 
she forced herself to remain there, staring down into the single eye of 
Wilhelm's incredibly big cockhead, looking at his pearly pre-cum and 
smelling of his fuck flesh at close range, the very same flesh she had seen 
countless times before, on her television screen or around her business 
establishment, the coarse man stroking it and fondling it himself ... only 
now it was for her to do as he commanded. 

Young Harold, too, could smell the funky scents of Horse's cock and balls, 
as the bedroom grew headier and headier with fuck smells. He watched, 
amazed, as his mother's dear mouth opened wide and she moved down over the 
knob of Horse's horse-cock, taking all of it into her tiny little mouth and 
nursing "on it, her cheeks suctioning in tightly around the man's huge 
coronal ridge, drawing at it heavily. 

"See, kid," Horse said, "ain't it something? Look at it good, and remember 
it." 

Slowly, Harold began walking around the bed, checking it out from every 
angle. From the rear he looked right up into the crack of his mother's ass. 
Her buttocks were spread wide because of her bent over position, going down 
on Horse's cock, and her cunt gaped slightly open so the boy could actually 
see up into it, there, below her pink-brown asshole, to where his cock had 
just minutes before been soaking in his fresh hot cum, her fresh hotter 
pussy juices. The mingled flow of his fuck fluid and her juice dribbled 
slowly out of her open-mouthed cunny and trickled slowly down her thighs as 
she worked on the man's big hard cock. 

When Harold reached the other side of the bed and moved in for a closer 
look, Horse was hip-hunching upward, driving more and more of his long hard 
cock shaft into his mother's mouth. She, her eyes closed so she could not 
see the fuck flesh before her, was sucking away at his cockhead as ordered 
to do. Harold bent down, looking closely at her lips where they closed 
around Horse's big fat cockshaft. 

Horse laughed and pulled Honey off his cock. 

Horse gave a horse laugh, watching Honey scramble around and poise right 
over the set knob of his rigidly upstanding horsecock. 

Then, moaning in agony. Honey slowly lowered herself until the slightly 
parted lips of her cunny just nestled around the lips of Horse's incredibly 
big cock. 

"God ahead, get down on it. Honey," Horse said, "we all know you want it. We 
can tell." 

"You bastard!" Honey said, glaring at the big hunky German. 

"Take it, you bitch," Horse said, putting his hands on Honey's shoulders and 
pushing her down, hip-hunching upward at the same time. 

There was a sibilant sound of flesh sliding against flesh and all of Horse's 
bulbous cockhead disappeared up inside Honey's widespread cuntal mouth, 
leaving what looked like a foot of hot hard cock standing between their two 
hot, naked bodies. 

Horse laughed and looked at Harold, his little boy face close in, looking at 
Horse's cock as it slowly disappeared up inside his mother's pussy. "Ain't 
it a bitch, boy?" Horse said. "But, Christ, you must have put a gallon of 
cum up in there, my cock's never moved so slick, so smooth before, in any 
old fuck hole." 

Gulp! Harold swallowed, realizing that Horse's cock was actually being 
lubricated, inside his mother's hot tight cunt, by his own semen, a 
situation he had never even fantasized about before. And, as he watched, his 
mother took all of Horse's cock inside her and then began bouncing up and 
down on it, bobbing her body, swinging her head from side to side in her 
shame, in her ecstasy, bottoming out solidly down against Horse's hunky 
body, grinding into his big heavy balls, fucking him beautifully. 

Harold's cock swelled to full erection and he peeled back the foreskin by 
holding it tightly in his fist, wanting to pump it but wanting to save it, 
too, for the fuck he was sure was yet to come, as he watched Honey and Horse 
cum together, splurting juice all over the bed, and some of it was Harold's 
the boy knew. 

 CHAPTER TEN 

By the next morning, Wilhelm Zumwalt knew he had the world by the balls, at 
least Hot-box Honey Jacobson and her incestuous lover-son Harold ... and all 
of Jacobson's Custom Body and 4WD Oasis. That was enough of the world for 
Horse Zumwalt. Especially if it carried with it Honey's sweet cunt, and 
almost all the hot-cocked fuck action Horse could get it up frequently 
enough to handle. 

It had been incredible, the day before, bursting into Honey's shower and 
finding the kid's cock, balls deep, buried up into her cunny, pouring the 
prick to her in a stand-up, beneath-the-shower fuck. Maybe it had been the 
kid's first time to pop his nuts off inside a pussy, or maybe not, it really 
didn't matter to Horse. He knew that Honey's hot box was big enough for any 
two cocks, and could siphon off more cum in a day than a bilge pump inside a 
sinking barge. There was plenty of her pussy to go around for both little 
Harold and big Horse to plug it regularly, there was no need for him to be a 
pig about it, especially since he had finally found the key to unlock the 
portals of her pussy and let him get his big horse cock into it. 

Incest, just the thought of it was almost laughable to Wilhelm. Yet the 
sinful crime had both Honey and her son exactly where he wanted them to be, 
in the grip of his palm. There was no way Horse was going to let them slip 
through his fingers either, or the shop, that had, over the many months he 
had worked there, lusting after Honey's sweet body, grown to major 
prominence in his life. It was a great job, a really sweet operation, and 
one that Horse would be proud to be a real part of, not just a flunky 
employee. With the incriminating knowledge he had about Honey, holding her 
in his benevolently sexy grasp, he realized that he could expand it to 
include a piece of her business. After all, he had worked hard for the 
company, it was only right that the company should work for him for a 
change. Honey could hardly refuse to cut him in for a piece of her pussy, 
regularly, every erection he had. 

The arrogant German's plan was fully developed in his head as a viable one 
by the time he left his apartment the next morning, driving to Jacobson's 
Body shop. For the. first time in ages, he felt like singing, breaking out 
into a guttural German song he remembered his mother singing to him when he 
was just an infant, tooling down the streets, driving effortlessly, his head 
light and giddy. 

Again, for the second day in a row, Horse Zumwalt wanted to arrive at the 
shop compound early, before the day's business got under way. Maybe he could 
be lucky enough to catch Honey fucking the kid again. That'd be a real turn 
on, just watching them. Horse figured the sight of the heavy-hung youngster 
balling his mother would give him a king-sized hard-on. 

He unlocked the big shop gates and threw them open for the day's business, 
then drove his car into his private parking spot and parked it, making sure 
everything was ready for the employees, expected within a few minutes, to 
begin working on the cars parked around the lot. 

Then, knowing his time could easily be spared for a while, he went straight 
upstairs and into the office. It was as empty as it had been the day 
beforehand quiet, the television monitors not even turned on. 

He tried the door into Honey's apartment and found it open. She's following 
her instructions, he thought, having told her not to lock it or try to keep 
him out in any way. 

Walking into the living room, Horse looked around, noticing the comfortable 
surroundings, the clean, neat kitchen. It wouldn't be difficult living here 
at all, he thought, instantly expanding his plan for moving in on Honey and 
Harold. 

There was no sound coming from anywhere, no water running in the shower. 

Horse paused briefly at the open door of Harold's bedroom, seeing the boy 
peacefully sleeping. Horse could tell that Harold had a huge morning piss 
hard-on, because the boy's cock was rigidly upstanding, poking up at the 
sheet and making it tent up high over the boy's crotch. Chuckling amusedly 
to himself, Horse gently pulled the door closed and moved onto Honey's big 
master bedroom. 

Hot-box Honey Jacobson wasn't asleep. She had spent much of the night 
agonizing through her dilemma of being caught committing her horridly 
incestuous crime, of actually being discovered with her young son's sweet 
hard boycock raming out her woman's fuck hole, cumming inside her even, to 
overflowing, his sweet boyfuck fluids trickling out the lips of her cunt and 
dribbling down her smooth thighs. 

Oh, God, she thought, what a night it's been. Then she heard someone 
sneaking around the apartment. It wasn't young Harold, he had no reason to 
sneak. It had to be the arrogant German Horse Zumwalt, back for seconds. 

Back for seconds. At her thought, Honey's cunt spasmed and the walls of it 
snapped tightly together. Instantly the juices began flowing just from 
thinking about Horse's proud horse cock plunging within her vagina again. 
God, how she hated that monster. His cock, and how she loved to feel it 
inside her. 

She was sitting up in bed, fully awake, looking toward her door as Horse 
entered the room unannounced. 

"Good morning, baby," he said sweetly, holding in reserve all the things he 
was going to demand of her, just as soon as he fucked her and dropped a 
load, taking some of the tension out of his heavy-hanging, cum-making balls. 
"All ready for me, I see." 

"You sonofabitch," Honey said, loathing in her voice. But still her old 
pussy spasmed again and a warmer, heavier flow began gathering just inside 
the lips of her cunt, making it grow moist and slack, getting ready to 
receive the heavy-hanging man meat she could see clearly outlined and 
growing, stretching long inside Horse's tight pants leg. 

Horse growled animal-like and started caressing the length of his cock, 
while opening his pants at the same time. "No, don't get up, dear," Horse 
said, "I'll be right with you, just as soon as I can get naked." 

Honey watched the whole disgusting spectacle as Horse hobbled around on one 
shoe, taking the other off, then both of them, his socks, finally letting 
his open pants fall to the floor, standing there in only a pair of faded 
blue boxer shorts, his whole cock and balls poking heavily out through the 
gaping fly, and a light blue T-shirt. 

Horse pulled his T-shirt off and dropped it, standing in front of Honey with 
only his boxers on, his genitalia clearly, proudly exposed to her already 
lust-glazed blue eyes. 

Chortling gently, Horse unsnapped the bottom of his boxers and let them fall 
around his feet, standing completely naked in front of Honey, his long, 
gnarled-looking cock slowly rising to a full stand, arching out heavily over 
his sagging, ball-twisting ballsac, covered with coarse blond man hairs. 

Horse picked up his cock shaft and stretched it out, pulling at it and 
watching it shape up more firmly in front of him, rising to a full right 
angle then, slowly, tilting its broad head upward even further. 

"See," he said, "how my cock wants you, Honey. You're the very best it's 
ever known. You do such wonderful things to my old cock, baby. Are you ready 
to do some more?" 

Honey seemed to cringe and try to pull the sheet up higher over her naked 
body, to hide her uptilting breasts and already rigid nipples, but to no 
avail. Horse rudely jerked the sheet down, baring all her body to his 
starkly blue eyes, looking down upon her naked flesh with runaway desire in 
his eyes. 

"A little head, baby," Horse said, "to start with." And he moved onto the 
bed until his cock was pushed right against Honey's sweet pouty lips, the 
drooling cocklips smearing pre-cum in a pearly dab just on the edge of her 
mouth. 

"Just a little, we don't rush these things," he said, talking while she 
slowly parted her lips and took his "cockhead inside. "Yes, just like that, 
just the head of my cock. Honey, no more. Don't rush things, make this fuck 
last ... Oh, God, you do my dick so good.... 

"Yes, yes, that way, with your tongue, poke it down inside my piss hole. 
Yes, God, that's wonderful. I've never been so hot. so hard, in my whole 
life. God, you suck cock best of all." 

Honey leaned into her enforced task, chewing down hard on Horse's cockhead, 
deliberately trying to hurt him to cut into the bulbous flesh, poking her 
tongue deep into his cockmouth, trying to tear the skin apart. Only she 
couldn't, and all her frantic efforts to harm him only gave the big hunky 
blond stud deeper pleasure. 

"Yeah, baby, yeah," Horse said, loving the way Honey's tongue laved his 
much-fucked knob, "only ease back a just a little, I've got something new in 
mind to try out. It's never happened to me before, until now. I've never 
found the right chick to do it for me, baby, but you're it." 

"What, you disgusting monster?" Honey asked, glaring into Horse's evilly 
excited eyes. 

"You're going to eat out my asshole, baby," Horse said, laughing. "Hot-box 
Honey's going to eat bung, and she's going to love it." Horse twisted around 
on the bed until he was face down and up on his knees, his head buried in 
the mattress and his buttocks mounding high and wide, starkly white in the 
big bedroom. He reached back with both of his hands and pulled his buttocks 
apart, as far as he could tug them, and his sweat-wetted ass crack opened 
before Honey's horrified eyes, the dark brown pucker of his anus almost lost 
in a small forest of coarse blond man hairs. 

"Eat it, baby," Horse said again. "Eat my asshole out until it's clean and 
sweet." 

The strongly pungent smell of Wilhelm's anus assailed Honey's nostrils, 
along with the heady scent of his sex itself, his balls, right before her 
nose and, past it, hanging down heavy in almost complete erection, his cock 
itself. 

"Oh, God," she said, breathing in the strongly funky smells of Horse's 
upturned backside. 

"Eat it, I said," he repeated, "eat my asshole, baby. NOW!" 

Gasping, sobbing, Honey bent her head forward, presing it between the man's 
hairy, widespread buttocks, the feverish heat of his asscrack making her 
face, tight against it, grow flushed and sweaty. She could feel his anus, 
just under her lips, the tight, smooth ring of it flexing gently, 
encouragingly, the scent turning sweeter, somehow, in her nostrils. Slowly, 
groaning inwardly, Honey opened her lips and let them circle around Horse's 
asshole, kissing him sweetly on his other mouth. Then, knowing she could 
prolong her agony only so long, Honey slowly let her tongue flick out of her 
lips to touch the skin of his puckered sphincter, to lick at it, tasting his 
funkiness, the gritty smoothness of his asshole. 

His bung seemed to unfold beneath her touch, gently opening itself to her 
prying tongue that dug deeper, deeper, into his bowel, licking the sides of 
his asshole, stretching them out, making them smooth and clean and kissing 
sweet while the big hunkyman, like a helpless infant, moaned and gasped his 
pleasure into the mattress, his buttocks gently swaying from side to side as 
Honey's sweet mouth continued plaguing his bung. 

Young Harold Jacobson hadn't been asleep when Horse looked in on him, but he 
had a real morning piss hard-on, that was for sure. It tented out his sheet 
alarmingly and Harold's bladder hurt like he had never emptied it at all. 

Grabbing at his pants and tugging them on without any underwear, Harold 
eased out of his room and looked into Honey's through a small crack in the 
door, seeing her and Horse together on the bed, naked. Honey's dear mouth 
closed over Horse's incredibly broad cockhead, sucking on it. 

Cursing inwardly, Harold went into the living room then the office, flicking 
the switches on the television monitor until he found the right camera, the 
one in Honey's bedroom that had a clear focus right onto her bed, onto her 
cocksucking mouth that wasn't closed around his boyish prick, the dick he 
wanted her to be sucking at that very moment. 

Then, to his stunned amazement, as he began fumbling with the other 
television controls on the console, he saw Horse move onto all fours, 
upending his ass and pointing his buttocks toward Honey's face. 

Then, hardly realizing what he was actually watching, Harold saw Honey kiss 
the man's funky old asshole. She actually kissed it, circling it with her 
lips and closing tight on his asslips like they were on his face, instead of 
on his crapper. And as the boy watched, he could see she was mouthing it, 
suctioning, her tongue obviously moving into play, digging down into the 
man's anus itself, stretching his shitter walls and licking them clean, 
making them smooth and slick and pliable as they flexed against her tongue 
caress. 

The depravity of it all was almost overwhelming to the fine youngster, but 
he still knew he had to do exactly what he had thought out during the long, 
thought-filled night, of how he could get rid of Horse Zumwalt once and for 
all, and have his loving mother, again, to himself, almost exactly the way 
he wanted it. 

Now if Horse had been a better father image, someone young Harold could 
really look up to, not just another big dick that needed to be admired, to 
be used, to be fucked, that would have been different. Harold even tried to 
reconcile himself to a life of three-way fucking with Horse and his mother, 
only that just didn't jell in his mind. What Harold thought he needed, what 
Harold though Honey needed in the way of a live-in grownup lover, was 
someone much more considerate, more gentle, more mature and refined. Someone 
much like Rogers M. Dalton, handsome hunky attorney-at-law who, at forty, 
was five feet ten inches of brown haired, muscular perfection, all one 
hundred seventy athletic pounds of his healthy frame. 

Yes, definitely. Rogers is the man, Harold thought, again confirming his 
middle-of-the-night decision. 

Keeping one eye on the television screen, watching Honey's sweet mouth 
kissing Horse Zumwalt's arrogantly German asshole, her tongue reaming out 
his crapper for all she was worth, Harold picked up the telephone and, 
quietly, began dialing the home number Rogers Dalton had given him for use 
in any emergency ... "Don't hesitate to call me if you need me," he had 
said. 

Harold had never needed anyone quite so much. 

He listened to the ringing of the telephone,-fearful that Mr. Dalton might 
not be at home and that the boy couldn't reach him, then, finally, he heard 
his powerful voice on the other end. "Hello," he said, "Rogers Dalton 
speaking...." 

"Oh, thank God I caught you at home," Harold said. "You've just got to help 
me, we're in ... well, we're in an awful mess, and we need you right 
now...." 

"Harold?" Rogers said, "is that you? What's the trouble, son?" 

"There's this horrible man, Mr. Dalton," Harold said, "and I'm ashamed to 
say he has some awful information about me, a secret, and he's ... well, 
he's blackmailing me ... and mother. Right now, he's forcing himself on her 
... you know ... that way, in bed." 

"Oh, God, Harold," Rogers said, "of course I'll help. Do you have something 
in mind?" 

"Yes, I do," the boy said, "so listen carefully...." 

 CHAPTER ELEVEN 

Wilhelm Zumwalt's round, fleshy buttocks stuck up into the air and twitched 
from side to side, his hands firmly pulling his cheeks wide to make room 
between them. Hot-box Honey Jacobson's hot mouth was locked against his 
arrogantly German asshole, kissing it, sucking at it, her sweet tongue 
laving it forcefully, prying, pushing deeply, cleansing it and making it 
slick and pliable as it gaped slightly in mindless passion. 

Never in all her thirty-five years had she been forced to submit to anything 
quite so disgusting, so nauseating. Yet, were she to admit it to herself, 
there was something about it that made her pulse beat just a little faster, 
the juice flowing inside her soft buttery cuntal walls a little faster, the 
juice flowing inside her soft buttery cuntal walls a little hotter, the 
spasming clenching of her loins a bit more frantic paced. It wasn't because 
it was an asshole she was kissing, or that it was Horse's, but rather than 
she was being forced to do it and nothing she could do about that could 
change one second of the passing time to anything different. 

Because it was completely beyond her control, she was free for the first 
time in her life to submit completely to the demands, however depraved, of a 
thoroughly sexual, thoroughly male being. For months she had watched Wilhelm 
convertly as he stroked his cock, even revealing it completely to her 
through the secret television camera in the men's washroom, on more than one 
occasion. 

His incredible horse-like cock. Almost too big and gnarled and 
irresistible-looking to hang from the loins of any mere man, topped off by 
incongruously subtle blond pubic hairs that should have been on an angel, 
not a fuck-devil. 

But it wasn't his huge, vein-roped cock that Honey was pleasuring, it was 
his asshole, funky and crinkled and curled up inside her mouth, the 
sphincter relaxed and throbbing, pulsating, flexing open and closed against 
her laving tongue like a being alive, not just Wilhelm's neither lips, the 
funky, gritty exit of his bowel, the strongly fragrant man essence heavy 
indeed as it surrounded Honey's sweet blonde head, nestled tightly inside 
the sweat-slick crack of Horse's ass. 

"Yeah, baby," Horse said, "eat my asshole good. Shit! I've never had this 
done for me before, never. It feels ... well, it's different, slickingand 
slidingaround, your tongue driving me crazy." 

Honey could hardly hear what he was saying, so confused was her mind with a 
mixture of being forced to do the horrible thing and, somehow, being 
thrilled by it at the same time, secretly. A secret she knew she could never 
share with another living soul for fear of being thought altogether too 
wicked. 

"Okay, baby," Horse said, '-'that's about enough, my asshole's twitching 
like a cat's crapper already. It's so good I feel like cumming, and I don't 
want to yet." 

He deliberately pulled his hairy ass away from Honey's sweet blonde head, 
but not before a powerful rush of air, outwardly propelled, fluttered out 
directly into her face. 

She paled and he began laughing, flopping back over onto his back, his hot 
hard cock rigidly upangled in front of him and waving in the air. "Now, 
Honey," he said, "give me some more head. Grease up my knob good so I can 
fuck you smooth and easy, only make sure you don't make me cum in your 
mouth. That can happen the next time, or the next. Right now I just want to 
put it in your pretty little pussy and fuck you all day long. Slick it up 
good. Go ahead, suck my cock." 

Gasping for breath that didn't stink strongly of Horse's foulness and hot, 
pent-up gasses, Honey stuck out her tongue and began licking all over 
Horse's cockhead, unknowingly teasing the man as she pleasured his glans 
thoroughly. She had even poked the tip of her tongue deep into his pisshole, 
suctioning up his pre-cum, before he groaned in ecstasy, pushing his hips up 
toward her face, trying to put the head of his cock inside her mouth. 

Honey wouldn't take it, she just continued caressing his dickhead with 
feather-light tongue touches, laving all around the knob including under the 
bottom, teasing the juncture of the bottom of his glans and the raggedly cut 
skin of his butchered-up circumcision, then around to the front, moving just 
along the broad, flaring rim of his coronal ridge. 

Only then did she part her lips and sink her head down over the big fat 
cockhead, taking the whole wide, much-fucked knob into the back of her 
throat and suctioning strongly, compressing her lips and cheeks tight 
against his fuck flesh and pulling at it, reaching deep into the very pit of 
his groin with her strenuous cum-sucking movements. 

Writhing in pleasure, tossing his head one way and his hips another, Horse 
took Honey's head in his hands and bobbed it up and down, fucking himself 
with it as he, in turn, fucked his hips upward, driving part of his fat cock 
shaft into Honey's mouth along with the big fat knob of his dick. His balls 
pounced wildly, rising up and falling down with a slapping sound against his 
thighs, the spit-slicked crack of his thoroughly clean ass, and they started 
drawing up tighter against the root of his cock, getting ready for the 
fountaining of his fuck fluids. 

"Christ, Honey," Horse said, "no one sucks my cock quite like you do. It 
feels like you're trying to pull all of it right down into your belly. 
You're like a cum vampire who hasn't eaten in a year. Shit, you're going to 
make me cum, and I told you I'm not ready yet. Stop it. Goddamnit! Stop 
sucking my cock." 

Horse pulled her head abruptly up off of his knob and it bobbed right in her 
face, striking her nose and her cheeks, leaving heavy marks of her spit and 
his pearly pre-cum streaking across her face. 

"Now," he said, "it's time to fuck. My cock's never been readier than it is 
right now. Your cunt's going to love it, baby, just love it. Only how? Which 
way should I fuck you this time, Honey? You cockloving bitch you...." 

Horse mused for just a moment then his expression changed and he broke out 
into a wide grin. 

"Yeah," he said, "that's it. Honey, we're going to stand-up dog fuck. You'll 
love it. That way I can really long-dick you, make you feel all of my cock 
and beg for more of it. Go on, get off the bed and bend over." 

"Oh, God," Honey said, quickly moving to obey the big blond brute, standing 
beside the bed and bending over, upturning her sweet blonde buttocks until 
the crack of her ass parted and, between her slightly spread legs, the 
drooling lips of her juiced-up cunt parted sibilantly. 

Laughing, Horse jumped off the bed beside her, his heavy hard cock moving 
caressingly over her back and down her buttocks, the fat spit-wet head of it 
nestling in the sweaty crack of her ass, the lips of his cockhead kissing 
the lips of her anus. For just a moment she thought he intended to put it in 
her there, only they both knew it was much too huge for that. It would rip 
her flesh cruelly should he try to force his enormous cock up into her tiny 
asshole. 

Then Horse took the shaft of his cock in his hands and used it like a 
pointer, dragging it again and again through the parted lips of her cuntal 
mouth, intermingling Honey's spit, Horse's pre-cum and Honey's pussy juice, 
again and again dragging the bump of his coronal ridge over her tingling 
clitoris, making it stand out and throb, wanting more and more of his 
dick-prods. 

Then, without any warning, Horse dipped is knees slightly to line up the 
angle of penetration better and jammed the whole head of his cock tightly 
inside Honey's cuntal mouth. 

She gasped and sagged forward from the force of his cock entry, though the 
sensations that rushed through her were like pure ecstasy itself, bathing 
her cunt, her entire groin in passionate pulsations. 

"Okay, bitch," Horse said, "brace yourself. I'm going to give you the full 
treatment in a hurry so you can get used to the feel of my cock, to the size 
of it, before I start fucking. Here ... it ... comes...." 

And as he said the words, he pushed his hips forward, sinking his cockshaft 
up inside Honey' hot box. 

Watching through the television monitor, young Harold Jacobson couldn't 
really believe what he was seeing with his own two eyes. Horse and Honey 
were standing in perfect profile to the television camera and the 
videotaping attachment relentlesly recorded every move they made and young 
Harold could see in flawless detail. 

No one had a cock that big, that long, to begin with, young Harold knew. It 
had to be some trick of the televison set-up, and while it looked like Horse 
was pushing it into his sweet mother's sweeter cunt, he just had to be 
pulling some of it out, to make it look as long as it did, then pushing it 
back in again. 

Only he wasn't. It was all cock, and it was all moving in only one 
direction. IN! Into Honey's incredible pussy, pushing deeper into the soft 
buttery depths of it inch by incredibly long hard fat inch. 

To young Harold, it looked as if it took ten minutes for Horse to put all of 
it up inside his mother's cunt, though in reality it was but half that long. 
It was Horse's cock that was twice that long, and all of it was finally 
buried inside Honey. 

She was bent over from her hips, her body hanging limp and lifeless as it 
was skewered by the biggest cock in the world. After it was all buried up 
inside her, she began moving, twisting her torso first one way then another, 
bending back, flexing her muscles, pulling, straining against Horse's horse 
cock, feeling of it inside her from every angle, pushing against her 
rippling, overstuffed cuntal walls from every side at the same time. Finally 
she tried to stand up, pulling it along with her body, only there was too 
much to his cock for that, and it was far too hard to bend with her body, 
,she had to slump back over to accommodate it at the best angle for her own 
comfort and pleasure. 

Somehow, with Horse's cock inside her, she didn't give a single thought to 
his comfort and pleasure, it felt that good to her to have it, to possess 
it, to clasp it tightly and possessively, knowing that at that moment it was 
without question exclusively all hers, every hard, fat inch of it. 

Laughing, Horse flexed his muscles and caused a ripple to move along the 
length of his cock and the head, deep inside Honey's cunt, to expand 
slightly and throb strongly. When Honey felt the movements inside her, she 
gasped in surprise and pushed back harder against Horse's blond pubic hairs, 
wanting to take even more of his fascinating horse cock into her greedy fuck 
hole, but there was nothing left but his balls, solidly pressed against her 
clit, his coarse pubic hairs making her sensitive love button blush with 
pride and pulsate feverishly. 

"I guess you're about as ready as you'll ever be, bitch," Horse said. "I'm 
going to fuck the shit out of you, this way, baby. You're going to be eating 
my cock from the inside, 'cause I'm going to ram it all the way up into your 
fuckin' throat. Get ready, because here it comes...." 

Horse made a few tentative hunching motions, moving his cockshaft in and out 
of Honey's hot box for just a few inches, making sure of the slick 
lubrication and the line up of the angles. Sure that everything was all 
right and that his cock would move smoothly inside her clasping flesh, 
judging just where to stop pulling at it to keep at least half of his fat 
cockhead still inside her cuntal lips, not wanting to break the fiery fleshy 
contact of cock-in-cunt. Horse began double timing her instantly, pulling 
all of his fat long hard cock shaft out at once then ramming all of it 
solidly back up inside her instantly, causing the sweetest. tightest, 
hottest friction either of them had ever known to zero in on their sex 
flesh. 

Only the tingling, blood-filled head of Horse's cock seemed to exist to him. 
It was the single pleasure-point of the whole wide world. Only her clit, 
brutally assaulted again and again by his flopping, flesh slapping ballsac 
with its coarse pubic hairs, seemed to exist for Honey, and that sliding, 
flesh expanding ramrod that rippled through her clasping cuntal walls like a 
piston in a big machine. 

Her mind cut off to everything but the fuck of the moment. His mind cut off 
to everything but the fuck of the moment. They were just a big machine. A 
big fuck machine, the single-minded piston of which drilled relentlesly, 
producing the single product of the machine, pleasure. 

And cum. 

What would probably turn out to be gallons of cum, once the floodgates 
opened and the machine started pouring out the fruits that were being pumped 
to the surface inside it, just on the verge of being released to spill over 
the overflow of cock-in-cunt, of balls-to-clit, of his hairy belly bent over 
her sweet buttocks, fucking her like a dog, drilling out her hole like never 
before, really long-dicking her by pulling his whole cock out again and 
again, just leavingthc lips of his cockhead maintaining contact with the 
lips of her cuntal mouth. 

Young Harold thought it was terribly exciting, watching the man fuck his 
mother that way, and his cock had been hard inside his pants for a long time 
already. It was almost all he could do to keep from taking it out and 
caressing it, to soothe away the pain he felt, to cum, to relieve the sweet 
tension building up inside his young groin, his feverish loins. 

Harold also wonderd if it would be as exciting to fuck his mother that way, 
from the back, like a dog, as it looked like it was. And, more than that, if 
it would look as exciting to someone else watching young Harold fuck his 
mother dog-style. Someone good, like Rogers Dalton, not someone bad, like 
Wilhelm Zumwalt. 

As the thought came to young Harold, he began wondering how much time had 
passed since his phone call to the attorney, and how long it would take 
Dalton to get there. 

He could hardly tear is eyes away from the furious fucking going on inside 
his mother's bedroom, by way of the television monitor, but his thoughts of 
Dalton drove him to do it. 

Harold went to the office door and started down into the yard where the 
employees were going on about their day's business completely oblivious to 
the sultry, exciting orgy going on over their heads. Walking around several 
cars being customized, nodding to an occasional mechanic, a body man, Harold 
went through the large open double gates and stood out in the street, 
looking for the attorney's car. 

At last he saw it, coming down the street fast enough to get two speeding 
tickets at least, then Rogers Dalton saw the boy waiting for him and waved 
out of his window as he pulled into the gates and abruptly parked in the 
first open spot he could find. 

Harold was right beside the car as Rogers opened the door and stpped out. "I 
got here as quick as I could, Harold," he said, gripping the boy strongly by 
his shoulder, reassuring him that everything would be taken care of, 
finally, by a man who knew what he was doing. 

"Thank God you got here, Mr. Dalton," Harold said, "they're still at it, 
upstairs. Come on, hurry, this way." 

Harold bolted up the stairs two at a time, with Rogers right behind him but 
once they entered the office, Harold motioned for him to be quiet as they 
checked the television monitor and. briefly, watched the frantic fucking 
going on, Horse's enormous cock drilling in and out of Honey's upturned 
cunny at a furious pace, the videotaper recording every long-dick stroke of 
the dog-style fuck. 

"I've been recording it for a long time," Harold said, pointing out the tape 
casette. 

"Good, Harold," Rogers said, "you did the right thing." Efficiently, 
thoroughly in charge, Rogers took over. He turned off the recorder and took 
the tape cassette in his hand, holding it securely because it contained all 
the evidence he needed to free Honey from her depraved bondage, to free the 
young boy from having to be a party to it. 

"Okay, son," Rogers said, "how do I get into that room?" 

"Just follow me, Mr. Dalton," Harold said, opening the door into the living 
room. 

The two of them went straight into Honey's big bedroom and walked up behind 
Horse without him even knowing there was anyone in the apartment, so intent 
was he upon his own pleasure, upon the incredible sensations surrounding the 
head of his cock, drilling into Honey's hot box. 

She, of course, did not know they were there. 

Her head was bent far forward and her eyes closed, her concentration devoted 
exclusively to the burgeoning, flesh pumping sensations of her cuntal walls, 
her battered, lust-pleasured clitoris. 

"All right, you sonofabitch!" Rogers said, striking Wilhelm resoundingly 
across his flexing, pumping buttocks ... "you've had it." 

Startled, his eyes glazed over with lust, Horse pulled his cock free of 
Honey's cunt and spun around ... it pulsated and flexed, so close was he to 
his cumming, but Rogers had forced him to stop his fucking prematurely and 
Horse's cum was not to flow. 

"Get your things on and leave, you bastard," Rogers said, showing him the 
tape casette. "And don't you ever come back or I'll have your ass locked up 
forever. I've got your red-handed, right here on this tape, and there's not 
a judge in the county who wouldn't like to deal with you, you depraved 
monster." 

 CHAPTER TWELVE 

Rogers M. Dalton, at forty, thought he had seen everything, but he had been 
wrong. Nothing he had ever witnessed came close to being as intensely 
exciting as the sight of Wilhelm Zumwalt's incredibly used cock, plunging 
full length into the upturned cunt of Hot-box Honey Jacobson, her ass 
upended, the arrogant German fucking her dog-style, leaning into her 
standing body, reaming her cock hole out for all it was worth. 

It had been bad enough that the hunky shop foreman had forced his sexual 
appetites upon the petite blue eyed blond, but to actually do it in front of 
her impressionable son Harold was too much to bear, especially as the young 
boy witnessed the entire depraved event, from start to finish, on more than 
one occasion. 

Little wonder the boy sought help from the handsome older man, his mother's 
attorney, after he decided that the web he had become entangled in did, 
indeed, hold him helpless captive, all because Horse had discovered the boy 
with his mother, engaging in innocent sex play, or so Harold wanted to think 
of it. 

That one event, caught redhanded by the swaggering German, had been enough 
to ensnare both the young boy and his mother in Zumwalt's crazy scheme of 
conquest. It wasn't enough that he wanted to use Honey's body in one 
disgusting sexual fashion after another, but he also expected the boy to 
watch, and to participate in, actually becoming a part of the man's 
multi-fleshed orgies. 

Little Harold thanked the day he thought of Rogers Dalton, and remembered 
the man's sincere offer to assist the boy, whenever it was needed. 

Watching Horse force himself upon his mother, having her eat out his filthy 
asshole and then making her suck his big fat cock made Harold realize that 
the time had never been more perfect for Dalton to come, like a white knight 
on a charger, rushing to the rescue. As the boy telephoned Dalton at his 
home, asking him to rush over before going to his office to rescue both his 
mother and himself, he hoped against hope that Zumwalt would still be at it 
when Dalton arrived, so he could see for himself the filthy way he was 
treating his mother. Harold wasn't sure the videotape casette of the forced 
fucking would be enough, and he wanted Dalton to see it for himself, at 
first hand, so he could become properly enraged at Honey's debasement and 
degradation. 

It had worked like a charm, from the moment Dalton parked his car in the 
yard and rushed upstairs with Harold to check out he television monitor, to 
see the horrible way Horse was forcing Honey to accept his huge cock, 
long-dicking her with it, plowing it into her poor pussy, the entire length 
all at once, again and again. 

Dalton had become instantly furious at the blond giant and attacked him 
physically with the tape casette, pounding him over his buttocks with it, 
his back, startling him and aborting his dog-style fuck, forcing Horse to 
pull his cock out of Honey's box before he finished, before he had his cum, 
the pleasure denied him at the final moment, just literally seconds away 
from his massive, copious orgasm. 

In shock, Horse's cock had withered, shrinking rapidly and curling up into 
itself, still glistening with his pre-cum and Honey's pungent pussy juice 
and, in almost stunned silence, the big, tall German had done as Dalton 
directed, putting on his clothes and leaving as rapidly as he could, obeying 
Dalton's commands to leave and never return, or else he would find himself 
locked into prison for many years yet to come. 

With him finally gone, both Harold and Dalton checking, watching him leave 
the compound and then locking both the office door and the door into the 
Jacobson apartment, they went back into Honey's big master bedroom, finding 
her in the shower, washing away the evidence of Horse's forced fucking, 
trying to remove all traces of his hunky body, his strong male fragrance, 
from her delicate body, the sensitive tissues of her soft flower-like cunt. 
It had been a very quick shower, but something she thought of as being 
absolutely necessary. She was toweling herself dry, standing in the middle 
of the bathroom floor, when Rogers and Harold entered it. 

"Oh, Rogers," Honey said, holding the towel coyly before her, trying to hide 
the shell-pink nipples of her breasts, the perfect hear of her blonde pubic 
hair, "I'm so ashamed for what I've done, and for your seeing me that way. I 
had hopes that ... someday ... you and I...." 

"Hush, woman," Dalton said, still feeling very much the man in charge, his 
adrenalin pounding through his veins and his cock well on the rise. "He's 
gone now, and I don't think he'll ever be back. Whatever happened between 
the two of you ... well, the three of you ... is in the past. I think we can 
handle it, don't you?" 

"I know I can, Mr. Dalton," Harold said, grinning up at the handsome 
attorney. 

"And, Harold," Dalton said, "since I'm about to ball your mother, don't you 
think it's about time you started calling me Rogers? After all, I'm not your 
father, just your friend." 

"Wow, you sure move fast, Mr. D ... uh, Rogers," Harold said, watching the 
man rip away the towel from in front of Honey, who just stood there smiling, 
her eyes beginning to glaze over in anticipation. 

"Oh, hurry, Rogers," Honey said. "I can't wait to see you, to look at you 
naked." 

Rogers laughed and looked down at himself. The bulge beneath his tight white 
briefs radiated heat heavily and seemed to stretch, elongating while the 
three of them looked at it. "You mean this thing?" Rogers said, quickly 
snaking his shorts down his legs and standing proudly upright, letting them 
look at his exposed sex flesh for the very first time, his heavy hanging 
cock already strongly tumescent and angling outward, arching over his 
lush-looking ballsac. 

"Oh, God, Rogers," Honey said, seeing that his cock, like her son's was 
uncircumcized, it's ... it's beautiful. Just imagine, my two fine men both 
have foreskins. Two super-sensitive cockheads that I can play with and give 
pleasure to to my heart's content." 

"Not unless you start pretty quickly, Honey," Rogers said. "I told you, I'm 
so hot already my nuts are about to pop off all by themselves, just from 
looking at your body like this, and wanting you so much I can't stand it." 

Oh, yes, yes, Rogers," Honey said, reaching out and taking his hard cock in 
her hand and peeling back the foreskin, baring his broad, man-sized cockhead 
completely, looking at it for the first time in her life close up, and 
liking what she saw. 

With her other hand she grabbed Harold by the cock shaft, pulling back his 
foreskin and baring it completely, though she had already seen it before, 
tasted it, known it. 

"Oh, God," she said, "they're both so wonderful." Using the two cocks like 
handles, she pulled the two men forward, close to each other, and butted 
their cockheads up against each other, mashing their cocklips together in a 
cock-to-cock kiss, intermingling the man's copious pre-cum and the boy's 
pearly white young juices. 

Gasping, sobbing, Honey fell to her knees before the two hansome men and 
opened her mouth wide, taking into it both their mashed-together cockheads, 
sucking furiously, tonguing them from side to side until they both grew 
bigger, filling her mouth to overflowing, and forcing her to back off of the 
double hard double cockhead. 

"Oh, Rogers," Honey said, standing up again. "I've just got to have it 
inside me. Please. Do it quickly. You can cum right away, I know it'll make 
you feel better, then we can have all the time in the world to get it up 
again, so I can really please you." 

She fell back on the bed, opening her arms wide, her arms and her legs, 
beckoning to the older man. Quickly Rogers clambered up between her legs, 
hesitantly, cautiously, wondering how it would feel to him to actually stick 
his cock up inside her, after wanting to do so for several years, then his 
thinking ceased, because his cock, all by itself, nestled between Honey's 
hot cuntal lips and butted against her clitoris in a fiery kiss before 
bobbing once, and submerging inside her soft butter fuck flesh, going 
straight to the cock-milking depths of her snapping, meat-filled fuck hole. 

Rogers gasped aloud and began plunging his hot hard dick into her pussy 
again and again, pulling it almost all the way out then sinking it back into 
the fire-like furnace that rippled tightly along the whole long length of 
his cock shaft. Nothing had ever felt so good to him in all his life. 

"Oh, God, Rogers," Honey said, "your cock feels huge inside me, even better 
than Horse's big whopper! I know the difference, too, it's because you're 
sincere and considerate, you don't just think of me as a cunt, but as a 
whole woman. I can tell, just from the way you're fucking me, and I've never 
been so thrilled before, not ever. 

"Come here, Harold," she said, "there's plenty of room for you, too." 

"Christ," the boy said, loudly, as Honey's lips closed around his boycock 
head and her tongue began laving the knob, slipping down into his pisshole 
and nursing there strongly. "It feels so good, your mouth on my cock." 

"And my cock in your cunt," Rogers said, gasping for breath, his face 
pushing against Harold's buttocks and forcing more of the boy's cock into 
his mother's mouth as Rogers forced more of his cock into her spasming, 
cum-siphoning cunt mouth. 

Honey pulled off of Harold's cockhead and twisted her head to the side so 
she could speak and be heard. "I'm willing, lover," Honey said, "as long as 
there's room for the three of us, and nothing can come between us to make it 
turn bad." 

"Oh, yes, Honey," Rogers said, still plunging his hard prick into her pussy 
to the very depths of it, his balls solidly pounding against her asshole, 
"it excites me in some strange way just watching you with Harold, knowing 
he's watching me with you." 

"Yes, yes, that's right, Rogers," Harold said. "I know it, I feel it, too." 

"Then, there's just one thing left to do," Honey said, "we've got to cum 
together, to seal the bargain, the three of us all at the same time, gallons 
and gallons of fresh hot cum." 

"God, you better hurry, then, Honey," Rogers said, "I'm almost there 
already." 

"Well, I am, too," she said, "so it's up to you, Harold. Your cum is the 
thing. When you get off, Rogers and I will, too. So get ready for the cum of 
your life!" 

And saying that, Honey took his cockhead back into her mouth, way down in 
her throat, and began bobbing at it as the boy mouthfucked her, using an 
almost exact counterpart of Roger's cock-plunging cuntfucking and as the 
three of them, together, began sighing and gasping and moaning, the 
flesh-on-flesh sounds of cock in mouth and cock in cunt filling the air and 
penetrating the heady scents of three-way fucking, they all began spasming, 
having the first of many three-way orgasms. 

Mother was in the middle, right where she always wanted to be. A honey 
sandwich filled with Honey and sweet, sweet cum, and two of the biggest, 
fuckingest cocks in the whole world! 

Both of their dicks were hers, at last, and Honey knew that somehow, even if 
one of them was momentarily emptied, there would always be enough hard 
man-meat to fill her emptiness. There would always be enough cum to 
lubricate the everyday anxieties enough so Honey, sliding through the rest 
of her days, would move easily and comfortably upon a pathway slicked down 
with Rogers' semen and with her own dear son's deliciously irresistible 
ejaculations. 


THE END
