textfiles/sex/EROTICA/B/barbara3.txt

              Chapter Three - Freewheeling Barbara Toys With Boys

  "Jerry!" she gasped.  "I thought you were at school!  How, what are you
doing here?"

  "I got all A's so I didn't have to take exams," Jerry explained.  "Aren't
you glad to see me, Mom?"

  "Of course I am.  I'm just a little surprised," Barbara answered.  Surprise
wasn't the word for it.  What if he'd come five minutes sooner? she thought
grimly, picturing her son's horror-stricken face.  She trod water, trying to
compose her mind, trying to still her pounding heart.  Guilt flooded her.  How
could she have succumbed to her lust, right here in her own home, with her son
only minutes away.  She closed her eyes.  She felt like she was going to faint.

  "Are you okay, Mom?" Jerry asked worriedly, looking at his mother's flushed
face.  "You look kinda weird."

  "Oh, I'm fine.  Just the heat.  Thought I'd cool off in the pool...."
Barbara became aware that she was babbling and pulled herself together.
"Well, I think it's wonderful you're home.  Let's see, what time is it?  Maybe
we could go out for supper."  She clambered out of the water and stood beside
her son.  She glanced down at her body, all in order, no telltale signs of
passion.  "Would you like that?"

  "Sure, Mom," Jerry answered.  He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.
It had been some time since he'd seen his mother in a bikini, and he'd been
too young before to appreciate her beauty.  For the first time he looked at
her as a woman and not his mother.  He was slightly embarrassed at his
feelings, and he tore his eyes away from the tempting display of nearly nude
flesh.  He hadn't seen many girls in brief bathing attire this close.  He and
his buddies at school occasionally sneaked up the hill and spied on the local
bathing beauties at the beach, but that was at a distance.  He swallowed
nervously, fixing his eyes on the ground.  Unbidden, he thought of the
pictures in his suitcase.  An older boy had given them to him, and he hadn't
dared to examine them closely in the crowded dormitory.  He felt a sudden urge
to run get them and take them to his bedroom to peruse them in private.  He
was aware of a breathlessness, a tightening in his groin that occurred when he
was stimulated.

  "Well, Jerry?  That okay?  I've got a date later on, but we can go to the
pizza place or something first."  Barbara looked at her son anxiously.  Now he
was looking odd.  Maybe the sun was getting him, too.  All the worried mother
now, all thoughts of her former lust erased, Barbara put out one hand and
stroked her son's forehead.

  Jerry jumped as if he'd been shot.  "Yes, that'll be great, Mom.  I'll, I'll
just run my bags upstairs."  He pulled away.

  "Why don't you lie down and rest for a while?  You look a little pale.  I
know that bus trip is murder!" Barbara smiled at her son.  "And I am glad
you're home early.  You just startled me earlier.  I wasn't expecting anyone."

  "The door was open, so I just came on in," Jerry answered.  "I think I will
go lie down."  He looked at his mother, trying to appear sick.  If she'll
leave me alone for an hour or so, I can look at my pictures, he thought
feverishly.  The desire to gaze at the forbidden pictures had now reached an
obsession.  He licked his lips slightly and glanced at his mother again,
wondering if she suspected anything.  No, she wasn't even looking at him.  She
was staring at a damp spot beside the pool, a funny look on her face.  He
shrugged.  "See ya in a while, Mom," he said, turning and running upstairs.

  Barbara followed him more slowly.  I guess he didn't suspect anything, she
mused.  He did look a little strange for a minute, he was staring at me, but
it was probably the heat.  I think I'll take a shower, too, must get on with
things.  I have to forget that boy, that must never happen again.  I wonder
how old he is, nineteen?  He looks mature for his age.  As she remembered the
most mature part of his body, she blushed vividly and thrust down the thought.
 Never again.  I'll have to be sure to keep the door locked from now on.
Anyhow, now that Jerry's home for break, he won't bother me again.  I'll keep
so busy with Jerry I won't have time to think about horrible lewd things.
Filled with resolution, Barbara disappeared into her bedroom. God!  My own son
will be ninteen next week!  And here I was with a boy his own age!

  Jerry sprawled on the bed.  He had closed his door and felt quite safe.  His
Mom never came in when the door was closed.  She was a great believer in
privacy.  He spread the pictures in front of him and began to look at each one
carefully.  He had pulled his pants off in preparation for his jack-off
session.  He figured that if he came really good, it would wipe out the
thoughts he'd had looking at his mother.  Jerry knew how awful it was to have
thoughts like that about your mother, it was a major sin.  Not only that, if
anyone found out they'd probably put him in a home or something.  Someplace
for perverted, evil boys.  He shivered and resolved never to look at his
mother again.  He concentrated on the pictures.

  There were seven of them.  The first was of a buxom blonde. She was naked
except for a garter belt and black nylons, and she was staring at the camera
with a lascivious expression on her face, her tongue protruding from her full
lips.

  Jerry drew a deep breath, wondering how it would feel to kiss her on those
full wet lips.  As his eyes slowly took in the rest of the picture, his
breathing quickened and his hand dropped to his penis, which was hardening
against his leg.  He grasped it between thumb and forefinger and began slowly
stroking it.  He looked at the woman's pictured breasts for a long time, his
breath coming in ragged puffs as he ran his finger over the picture, imagining
how those big boobs would feel under his hand.  "Oh, baby," he breathed.
"What a set!"  He breathed harder, picturing his lips fastened on the erect
nipples.  Almost unwillingly, he slid his eyes farther down.

  The woman's legs were widespread, and she was holding her cunt open with one
hand, showing the treasures inside.  A thick growth of bushy curls covered her
twat, curling along the extended lips of her open cunt.  Jerry could just make
out the ridges and convolutions of the slit.  He peered closer.  It looked
wet.  It almost glistened in the picture, seeming to beckon him nearer.  He
stroked it with a trembling finger, fantasizing that he was running his digit
over a real, wet cunt.  He had touched a cunt before, the gardener's daughter
let the boys at school feel her for a dollar.  But she didn't have one like
this.  Hers was sparsely furred and the slit was tiny, nothing like this
fleshy abundance.  Jerry could see a tiny knob of flesh at the top of the
opening.  He wondered if that was the thing the boy who had given him the
picture had told him about.  Supposedly you could just press on this nub of
flesh and the girl would let you do anything you wanted.  Jerry's hand moved
faster on his pecker as he imagined what he would do.  He put the picture
aside and went on to the next.

  In this picture a young red-headed woman was sucking a guy off.  The girl's
body wasn't as full as the other woman's, her breasts were small and tilted
upwards.  Jerry thought they looked like ripe fruit and wished he could bite
into them.  Her body was bent over, showing her luscious ass, and the contrast
of her long red hair against the white ass made Jerry's heart stop.  But the
interesting thing was, her mouth was completely full, her lips distended
around this enormous dick she was trying to swallow whole.  Jerry looked at
the man's genitals appreciatively and wondered if his would ever be that size.

  The man's root was huge.  It sprang from a nest of dense black curls,
pointing straight up, obviously fully aroused.  The head and about half the
shaft were buried in the red head's sucking mouth.  Her cheeks puffed out and
around it, trying to accommodate the rod.  One of the man's hands was caught
in the girl's hair, holding her head steady, the other was squeezing one of
her breasts.  Her hands were cupped under his balls, one of them disappearing
under his bottom.  Jerry wondered what she was doing, then it came to him! She
was feeling the guy's asshole!  He shivered, wondering how it would feel to
have a lady sucking on his dick and fingering his shithole at the same time.
His hand stroked up and down his pecker in short quick strokes, then slowed.
He could feel his cum building up, and he wanted to look at the rest of the
pictures before he came.  He flipped to the next one, his hand keeping a
steady rhythm on his penis.

  "Hoo, boy!" he breathed.  This was the best one yet.  In this picture a
busty brunette was lying spreadeagled on the bed, her heavy breasts hanging to
the side, her widespread thighs facing the camera.  Above her, his dick still
spurting, a man knelt.  He had apparently just fucked her, for gobs of semen
clung to her open vagina and dripped from the head of his softening prick.

  The photographer had caught the moment perfectly.  The woman's face was
glazed with lust, her nipples still turgid with passion.  Her open cunt seemed
to quiver with its load of fresh sperm.  Her twat hairs were coated with the
sticky stuff, it was running down her legs and over her stomach.  "Wow, he
must've really shot a wad," Jerry breathed.

  He wished it were his sperm that was dripping down the woman's outspread
legs.  He wondered how it felt to spurt into a cunt, to cover a woman with
cum.  His hand was moving furiously now. He wanted to cum, to pretend he was
spurting all over the woman in the picture.  "God, fuck me, baby," he said
hoarsely, squeezing at his prick as he thought a cunt would.  "I'm gonna shoot
all over your twat!"  The lewd words coming from his mouth excited him even
more and he hurriedly turned to the next picture.

  There were three people in this one.  A woman knelt in the center, her full
breasts hanging down loosely.  Behind her, a dark man was plunging into her
ass, his dick cleaving her buttocks neatly, his balls smashed against the full
roudness of her buttocks.  He was reaching under her with one hand, feeling
her twat.  In front of her another man was thrusting his turgid prick into her
open mouth.  He was holding her by the hair and pinching her breasts with his
free hand.  The woman seemed in an ecstatic trance, her mouth wide to receive
the giant prick, her buttocks spread to accommodate the man behind her.  Jerry
couldn't decide which guy he'd rather be, the one with his prick buried in
that hot asshole, or the one with his dick in the wet sucking mouth.

  "Wow, shake it, baby," he murmured to the woman, feeling his pecker buried
in the convulsing asshole.  "Give me a ride!"  He thrust wildly into his hand.
He could feel his balls tightening and lifting, and knew he couldn't hold off
any longer.  The other pictures would have to wait.  He jacked off furiously,
his eyes glued to the lustful threesome, his mind whirling with the stimulus
he had received.  "Oh, fuck, fuck me, I'm cumming, suck it baby, I'm gonna
shoot!  I'm cummingggg!!"  His young penis began spurting wildly, gobs of
thick creamy cum jerking from the head in an endless stream, gushing through
his hand, landing on the pictures, on his stomach, on the bedspread.  Jerry
couldn't remember ever cumming so much - it seemed like it would never end.
Unbidden, a picture of his mother in her bikini flashed into his mind and he
convulsed again, his tortured balls giving up the last burst of sperm.  "Oh,
oh, good!" he mumbled, turning over, rolling toward the edge of the bed.

  And then he saw her.  His mother.  Standing in the doorway, her eyes fixed
on his dangling penis, a strange expression on her face.

  "Mom!" he gasped in horror.  Of all the things he had imagined, he had never
thought of his mom catching him jacking off.  "Oh no, Mom!"  He stared at her
in abject amazement.  He couldn't think what to do next.  It was perfectly
obvious what he had been doing, there was no way to hide his cum-smeared young
hard-on and the assortment of pictures.  Jerry wondered how long she had been
standing there.  Had she actually seen him cum?  Through the embarrassment and
fear that filled him, he was aware of a twinge of lust at the thought of his
lovely mother watching him jack off.

  "It's okay, dear, nothing to be ashamed of," Barbara said. "I'm sorry, I
knocked, but I thought you said come in.  It's perfectly normal.  I didn't
realize you were growing up so fast."  Barbara smiled at her son, hoping her
emotions were well hidden.  For what she felt was not motherly at all, she was
suffused with sudden lust!  She had knocked at the boy's door, that was true,
but she had heard his voice crying out lewd words, accompanied by grunts and
moans.  She hadn't been able to resist opening the door quietly, driven by
curiosity and something else she couldn't name.  And she had seen her son, his
hand wrapped around his prick, jerking off as he writhed on the bed, his eyes
fixed on a picture he held in his other hand.  She blushed, remembering the
picture, a woman being screwed in the ass while she blew another guy.  Part of
her wondered how it would feel to take on two men at once, but she quickly
squelched that thought.

  Her eyes had been full of her son's jumping dick.  She couldn't move,
couldn't force herself away.  As he neared completion, her hand had strayed
inside her robe and found her cunt dripping with moisture.  When he came, she
had plunged her finger into herself, frigging her clitoris desperately.  She
hadn't had time to cum, and she was in a state of aroused passion, her body
aching with lust as she tried to calmly reassure herself that masturbation was
normal.

  Maybe that is, but what I'm feeling is perverted, wrong, immoral, she
thought to herself.  Screwing this afternoon was bad enough, this, this, this
is a sin.  No mother should think this way about her son.  It's impossible, I
must be insane!  She drew her robe closely around her, as if she could shut
away her depraved desires.  "Don't worry about it, dear.  I'll never come in
your room and disturb you again.  And please, don't worry.  We'll forget about
the whole episode.  I'm going to get dressed for supper now. Pizza okay?"  She
smiled brightly at her son and backed out of the room, closing the door gently
behind her.

  Jerry still sat on the edge of the bed, his thoughts in turmoil.  He hadn't
believed it when his mother had walked in on him.  He still didn't in fact.
But she had been real nice about it.  She hadn't seemed too shocked or
anything.  Jerry blushed again.  He didn't see how he could look her in the
face again after what she'd seen!  And if she knew that he'd been thinking
about her when he came, Jerry winced.  Still, she hadn't seemed horrified. In
fact her expression had reminded him of someone.  He thought a minute, then
his eyes lit on the first picture, the one with the big blonde, her face
glazed with lust.  He stared at the picture wondering how it could remind him
of his mom as she had stood in the doorway, then shrugged.  He'd do what she
had suggested, forget the whole thing, pretend it had never happened.  But
maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to get one of his buddies to spend break with
him.  For some reason, Jerry didn't want to be in the house alone with his
mother.  Not if she was going to keep running around in bikinis and bathrobes!

  Jerry clattered down the stairs, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.  "Okay,
Mom, ready to go!" he sang out.

  Barbara got up slowly from the couch and smiled at her son.  She was dressed
in a green dress with a low neckline, and as Jerry saw the twin swell of her
breasts, his resolve hardened.  He just couldn't stay alone with her, not
thinking the thoughts he did!  If Steve of Richard was here he could control
himself better, could go off with them and try to ignore this sexy creature
who happened to be his mother.

  "Hey, Mom, would it be all right if I called up Steve and asked him to spend
break with me?  He didn't have anywhere to go.  He's still at school.  I told
him I'd ask you and he could come up later if it was okay with you.  He'll be
finished with exams by tomorrow."

  "Sure, hon," Barbara answered, aware of a pang of disappointment at not
having her son to herself.  "Call him right away, tell him I'd be glad to have
him visit.  I know you boys don't want to be around us old folks all the
time!"  She smiled at him lovingly, wishing she could see him without
visualizing his young pecker spurting his hot, tasty-looking cream.

  "Oh, it's not that, Mom!  You're sure not old.  I mean, it's just that I
promised Steve, that is, he's all alone at school."  Jerry floundered in
explanation, hoping he hadn't hurt his mother by intimating that he didn't
want to be around her.

  "I understand, Jerry.  Why don't you call him now, and then we'll go out for
supper.  I have a date with Mr. Greenway tonight.  Will you be all right by
yourself?  I didn't know you were coming home, or I'd surely stay.  I can
break the date if you'd rather have me stay."

  "Oh, no.  I mean, I'll be fine.  Got some reading to do, wouldn't be good
company anyhow," Jerry stuttered, completely unnerved by the prospect of his
mother remaining home.

  "I guess so.  You're a big boy now, after all," Barbara looked at her son,
and they both flushed and looked away as they remembered what a big boy he was.

  No, not a boy.  He was almost a man now.  Why did this thought hurt?  Her
own age?  Life slipping away from her.  Was this why she peddled that damned
bicycle mile after tortuous mile?  To somehow, some way, hold on to her youth?

  She looked at her legs.  They were tanned and muscular.  "Bike freak," she
said to herself, using the same intonation that young Jim had that day at the
motel.  But what could the damned bike do when her chin began to sag, or the
crow's feet began to spider around her eyes?  When would that be, five years,
six years? What would she end up, a little old grey-haired lady with a trim,
tight body that didn't match her false teeth?

  She had read an advertisement in today's newspaper.  A plastic surgeon
saying he understood, the dilemma of the "aging woman."  Eyelid-lifts, chin
lifts, brow-creases eliminated.  No.  She wasn't to that yet.  But how long
would a lousy two-hundred dollar bicycle keep her young?  Not long.  Not long.