Mum’s Generosity – Chapter 3

Chapter 3

In the two weeks since that crazy 10 minutes, in the bathroom with Frank and the bedroom with Brian, Sandra had stayed away from her children. She had been racked with guilt following the scenes with her two young sons and was determined that it wasn’t to happen again. It hadn’t been easy though. Her children had tried to engineer situations in which either they or she or both would be in some state of undress and certainly in some state of arousal.

More than once Sandra had found herself with a spasming pussy. She walked in from shopping to find Frank wanking on the couch in the front room. She had stopped in her tracks, dropping the bags and breaking the eggs, shouting at Frank to put his thing away and to have some respect for his mother. He had hoped that the sight of him playing with his hard cock would elicit a sexual response from his mother. Inwardly it did, her cunt leaking juice at the sight of his young strong cock. Outwardly, he was disappointed.

Sandra had been strong. Like she had been when Brian came in to her bedroom in the middle of the night complaining of a nightmare. He had no pyjama bottoms on and his hard, young cock poked out at her accusingly. She hugged him and comforted him (when what he really wanted was his mother’s mouth on his cock) and sent him back to bed with nothing more than a peck on the cheek.

As she heard his bedroom door close Sandra threw off the bedcovers and her fingers sought out the centre of her longing. She stroked her middle finger up and down her slit and pictured her young sons’ cocks shooting their cum out all over her. It was OK to fantasise about it. But to do it was wrong, she knew that. She had stumbled once…OK, twice,…but she was determined not to let it happen again.

But in her mind her sons fucked her, licked her, raped her, pissed on her, made her their slave, chained her in the garage, pierced her body, made her fuck their friends, made her fuck dogs, made her do all sorts of degrading things. And she came hard. Every disgusting, perverted sex act that she thought of with her sons spurred her onto harder and more intense orgasms. Her sheets were constantly soaked with her juices, and the fact that her sons were shooting their cum over their sheets only added to the washing machine’s burden and the laundry was mounting up daily.

Sandra sought out her sons’ cum stains on their sheets and their underwear. She licked at the tell-tale damp patches as she worked through the otherwise tedious chore and fingered herself when the boys were out with friends, at school, or in the garden playing football. But she was being strong. And so it was that the boys and their mother were masturbating daily. The number of orgasms in one week totalled close to one hundred. Moans, squelches and slapping noises filled the house at most times of the day and Sandra, Brian and Frank were in an almost-permanent state of arousal. The heat of the start of the summer didn’t help matters and the boys and their mother started to wear less, out of necessity rather than any wanton show of flesh.

It was Saturday.

The day had been hot and as the sun dipped below the horizon Sandra was finishing off getting ready to go out on a date. She had frigged herself hard in the shower, locking the door this time, cumming at the thought of Frank and Brian fucking her; Frank on his back ramming his cock in her wet sucking cunt, Brian, pushing his hard young cock into her tight arsehole from behind. Their cum shooting out at the same time, filling her holes. She had fucked herself with her big black rubber dildo as she lay back on the bed, still damp from the shower. Slamming the cock in and out of her cunt, picturing herself being pissed on by her two young boys, their piss shooting out over her tummy, up to her tits, onto her face…..

She came hard, but bit down on her lips to keep quiet. She had learned over the last fortnight to be quiet, clenching her fists, biting her lip, tensing up, letting out the screams in a low deep moan. It hurt not to scream, to let it all out. But she couldn’t give her boys any kind of impression that she was a sexual being.

She got ready slowly. Clinging black dress, low cut, thin shoulder straps. Dabs of perfume on her neck, the tops of her tits, her wrists, her tummy. Stockings, suspenders, black patent 4 inch heels. Make up, a touch of mascara, foundation, a little eye-shadow. She looked good enough to eat and smelled good enough to fuck. She had a date with Paul. He had asked her out last week. Said he had been plucking up courage to do it for a long time and they were going to a restaurant.