Chapter 7

So it came to pass that Mom and Glenda had Mrs. Carter over for an afternoon tea to discuss starting up a class for the new hot yoga fashion that had been sweeping across the country. There weren’t any classes available in town and would she teach one?

I had answered the door, according to plan, but had left soon after to go on a run. Meanwhile, Mom and Glenda had spicy tea with Mrs. Carter, tea that was spiced up with a strong liqueur, just enough to take the edge off and make her more amenable to a mellow conversation. They were deep into it when I came back from my run, tanned and sweating with my muscle shirt plastered to my chest and white shorts, making them look more like skin than clothes. Snacks and cups were spread across the coffee table and a bottle of liqueur openly displayed that hadn’t been there when I left. It was two thirds gone. I sat down on the lazy boy chair in the corner.

The women were in a good mood and the fashion show featuring male models that was on the TV was all but ignored except, that is, by Mrs. Carter who glanced at it now and then. It was flattering that she glanced at me more than the TV.

Mom and Glenda sat very close to Mrs. Carter, each having about a foot between them and the arms of the couch. Mrs. Carter seemed a little uncomfortable at their proximity when I first came in which I think was acknowlegement on her part that it was inappropriate and not that she didn’t like it. When everyone, including me, ignored it, she became more comfortable with the situation which I’m sure she had been before I came in.

Mom and Glenda started paying more attention to the TV, making frank comment about the models. At first, I thought it was a strange thing to have on but then realized it was a good way for three women to laugh it up and get cosy.

Mom looked at me and said, “Ryan, take that shirt off and throw it in the laundry. It stinks!”

I rolled my eyes and got up, leisurely strolled across the living room in front of them, stopped near the kitchen door to peel the t-shirt over my head, and threw it up the stairs. It landed half way up and I sauntered into the kitchen, got a water bottle and filled it up with cold water, then doused my head and splashed a little over the front and back of my shorts. Hair dripping, I casually wandered back into the living room but stopped in front of the TV to take a long swig from the water bottle.

Mom complained, “Get out of the way, you big oaf.”

Glenda also urged me to get clear of the TV but Mrs. Carter was silent and I could see from the corner of my eye that she was eyeing up my physique. I remembered the the scenario Glenda had drawn for me the week before of Mrs. Carter sustaining contorted positions and felt my cock swell and press against the front of my shorts. I tensed my leg muscles and tightened my butt, then turned and looked directly at Mrs. Carter, trying to affect a heated look in my eyes.

She was caught but, like a deer in headlight, couldn’t look away.

“Get out of the way,” Glenda cried.

Mom waved me aside and I moved, slowly, keeping my eyes on Mrs. Carter. She didn’t turn her head but her eyes followed me all the way to the chair where I was slow to twist around to sit down. When I did, I kept my knees wide apart to let the damp material of my shorts stretch tighly over my bulge which had become more defined when I had wet the front.

Mom and Glenda put an arm around Mrs. Carter at the same time and leaned forward to look at the TV, pulling her with them. Mrs. Carter looked too but glanced my way twice before they pulled back to lean against the couch. Their hands dangled over the shoulders of the more petite Mrs. Carter, fingertips coming perilously close to brushing the nipples I could see faintly poking through her tank top. Their apparent hardness confirmed the constrained excitement evident in her eyes.

I kept silent in the background as the women continued to comment about the models. The lack of commercial breaks suggested the program was recorded. Mrs. Carter occasionally glanced my way and no longer seemed embarassed when I looked back. Some time went by before I noticed Mom’s fingertips grazing the upper part of Mrs. Carter’s right breast and Glenda’s doing the same with the left. They leaned forward as a threesome for a closer look at a model and when they settled back on the couch Mom’s hand was on Mrs. Carter’s thigh. Glenda’s landed on the other soon after.

It was strange. I thought Mrs. Carter would have avoided looking my way, perhaps in shame, but she now regarded me steadily, ignoring the TV. Mom and Glenda openly stroked her upper legs and their fingers pressed on the upper swells of her breasts, not quite reaching far enough to brush the nipples. I imagined that they were and pictured the little buds flicking back and forth, bending and then snapping back into place, as the fingers passed by on their innocent journey, devoid of any excuse for such an intimate touch.

It was a surreal scene. Mrs. Carter sitting on the couch, flanked by my brunette mother on one side and the blonde Mrs. Hancock on the other, both caressing her thighs and dangling their hands on the upper part of her breasts.

Mom and Glenda had stopped watching the TV and were now talking to one another in excited, hushed tones across Mrs. Carter. They were still talking about the attibutes of the models but weren’t involving Mrs. Carter in the conversation. Mom withdrew her arm from around Mrs. Carter’s neck and started stroking her hair. Glenda did the same and both started stroking the sides of her face. Mrs. Carter leaned her head back against the couch and closed her eyes. Within two minutes of doing that, the other woman moved the hands that had been stroking her legs up over her stomach and cupped her breasts.

They didn’t move for a minute or so but then began to gently knead and rub Mrs. Carter’s small breasts with the palms of their hands. Taking the lead, as usual, Mom kissed Mrs. Carter lightly on the cheek. When Glenda did the same, Mrs. Carter placed a hand on the other women’s legs and they responded by turning slightly toward her. Mom kissed her on the lips then drew back to let Glenda have a turn. Soon, they were swapping with Mrs. Carter turning her head from one to the other but never opening her eyes. I wondered if she thought it would end if she did.

Mom jerked her head at me while Glenda was busy with Mrs. Carter. When I got up she jerked her head again, indicating that I should pull the coffee table out of the way, which I did. By the time that was done, Mom was busy with Mrs. Carter. Glenda smiled at me. She was very excited.

When it was Glenda’s turn, Mom indicated that I should approach Mrs. Carter so I did, standing in front of her and pushing my pelvis forward to emphasize the bulge in my shorts in case she opened her eyes. Mom shook her head to indicate that I should kneel down in front of her. Once on the floor, Mom nodded at Mrs. Carter’s legs and then turned to take Glenda’s place. I didn’t know what to do and Glenda was no help, smiling at me and awaiting her turn as she fondled Mrs. Carter’s left breast.

When Mom finished she noticed my confusion and nodded sharply at Mrs. Carter’s feet. I didn’t get it and, exasperated, Mom lifted her leg and stuck her foot in my face, wiggling it. I slipped her sandal off and Mom nodded, as if to say ‘duh’. I took her other sandal off and Mom nodded her head vigorously at Mrs. Carter’s shoes but when she took her turn again, I removed Glenda’s instead. I was afraid that a male touch would break the spell and this wonderful menagerie would stop.

Mom finished kissing Mrs. Carter and renewed her silent instructions to remove Mrs. Carter’s sandals. Reluctantly, I unbuckled her right shoe, trying hard not to contact her skin so as to preserve my identity. I unbuckled the left and stopped, not sure how to remove the sandals without lifting her feet. Unable to solve the problem, I lifted Mrs. Carter’s right leg, holding it behind the ankle, and slipped the loose sandal off her foot. When I lowered her leg to get the other, her foot landed on my upper knee. I left it there, thinking it would be less intrusive than pushing it down to the floor. I lifted her left leg and removed its sandal and lowered that foot onto my other knee.

Mom and Glenda stopped kissing Mrs. Carter and looked at each other, nodding and and smiling smugly. Mom began lifting the bottom of Mrs. Carter’s tank top from inside the waistband of her skirt and Glenda reached down to the Mrs. Carter’s knees and started bunching up the material until the hem was in her hand. As she pulled on the long skirt, which reached almost to Mrs. Carter’s ankles, her legs were revealed.

I had expected Mrs. Carter to have old looking legs like those of other aged women but I was pleasantly surprised to see a pair of healthy, tanned and muscular legs appear, I supposed due to all that yoga. Mom and Glenda smirked when they saw the expression on my face but soon turned to more important tasks.

Glenda pulled the skirt high above Mrs. Carter’s knees, way up onto her thighs, and Mom flipped the thicker, stretchy material of the tank top over and above Mrs. Carter’s breasts, exposing her nipples, which stood out sharply against a horizontal band of white skin. Mrs. Carter obviously didn’t tan topless and the stark contrast exaggerated the prominence of her longish nipples with fantastic effect.

Mom slid one hand underneath Mrs. Carter’s skirt and Glenda did the same. Watching me with unbridled amusement, they each cupped the bottom of a breast and lifted, then waited for me to lean forward to sample the goods. They were as surprisingly supple as her legs but I was reluctant to make contact, just as I had been with Mrs. Carter’s feet.

However, it was too good an good offer to refuse. I put my hands on the couch on either side of Mrs. Carter’s thighs and leaned forward until my lips hovered over her left tit. I closed the distance and licked the stiff nipple, curled my tongue to give it a flick, then captured it between my lips and sucked.

“Ohhhhh my God,” Mrs. Carter moaned, the first sound she had made since I had come back from my run.

Her left hand rose, got tangled in my right, extracted itself, and grasped the back of my head, pulling it harder onto her tit. I sucked harder and she groaned loudly. I wasn’t sure if it was my attention to her tit or something Mom and Glenda were doing under her skirt but the timing was right. I sucked hard again and she groaned immedately which was great because it signaled that I was a welcome addition to the group. I twisted my head around on her tit as I sucked and then moved over to the right one to suck it, capturing the left in my hand and twisting its nipple as I sucked on the other.

I paused when moving my mouth back to the left to look down to see what Mom and Glenda were doing under Mrs. Carter’s skirt. Their hands were very busy. Mrs. Carter’s knees had risen, probably from the pressure exerted when I leaned forward to suck her tits while her feet were still on my thighs. This had caused her legs to spread open and the skirt to fall to her midriff but I couldn’t see her pussy, or even if she was wearing panties, because of the cluster of busy feminine hands.

I raised my head just as Mom latched onto Mrs. Carter’s mouth do deliver a vigorous, mouth-watering kiss. I forgot to claim her nipple until Mom was finished and then pushed forward to take my own turn with Mrs. Carter’s mouth.

Man, holy of holies, could this old girl ever kiss! I was swept into a whirlwind of oral sensations as her busy tongue and lips and God knows what else inside her mouth worked against mine. It was a seething caldron of hot, steamy moisture mostly imparted by pulpy flesh but sprinkled with hard bits that pricked and tantalized. I withdrew and was instantly brushed aside by Glenda pushing her face in to replace mine. I took a deep breath and returned to Mrs. Carter nice little tits where I felt more in control.

Another five minutes or so passed like that but I only kissed Mrs. Carter once more. I was game but I couldn’t get more than one turn because Mom and Glenda kept getting there first. Needing more, I shoved my shorts down and tried to pull Mrs. Carter toward the edge of the cushion so I could get my cock into her but Mom kicked me away and then Glenda added her foot to help rebuff my intended assault.

Mom and Glenda pulled Mrs. Carter forward and led her off the couch onto her knees and then out to the middle of the carpet. Kneeling on either side of her, they kissed and caressed her breasts, neck and face while their fingers remained active around her pussy. I watched for a couple of minutes until Mom looked back and nodded for me to get behind Mrs. Carter. As soon as I was in position, Mom and Glenda pulled up the back of her skirt which had fallen around her knees on the floor.

Mrs. Carter had a surprisingly nice ass for a woman over fifty but I guess by this point I shouldn’t have been surprised. It wasn’t wrinkly or even flabby like I expected nor was it as soft. Rather, it was lean and firm, hardly more substantive than a monkey butt. I question Mom with my eyes for the go-ahead and then slowly fed my cock into Mrs. Carter from behind.

She was very tight and I was rewarded by a loud groan and the feel of Mom’s and Glenda’s fingers as my cock slipped into Mrs. Carter’s cunt. They tickled my shaft when I pulled out and again on the way back in. I executed half a dozen strokes to loosen her tunnel and then fucked her with long, steady strokes, reaching around to grasp her tits to keep her from falling foward.

She was amazingly responsive, pushing back to meet every thrust, evidently enjoying having her pussy filled, but the credit wasn’t all mine. Her pleasure was partly or even mostly due to the expert fingerwork by Mom and Glenda around her swollen mound and clit, and the soft kisses they rained upon her ears and neck.

As my thrusts grew harder and more erratic, Mrs. Carter abandoned the proactive response and leaned forward to simply take what I delivered, her body flopping about with each lunge. If we hadn’t been holding her, she would have been thrown onto the carpet. Mom slipped in front and underneath so I released my hold on her tits and let Mrs. Carter flop onto Mom’s body whose hands found the bottom of Mom’s blouse and pushed it up and over to free her larger breasts.

Mrs. Carter’s grunting was echoed by Mom as their pussies rubbed against each other. Feeling left out, Mrs. Hancock kneeled with knees wide above the head of Mom and Mrs. Carter, dipping down to let Mom taste and then twisting her pelvis up to force herself against Mrs. Carter’s mouth. I pulled her foward and pushed my tongue into her small mouth, immediately noting that we had both improved our skill in kissing.

Our bodies formed a quivering mass of limbs, appendages, and torsos that writhed together amid moans and groans and sucking sounds that ebbed and flowed but gradually increased in intensity until we reached a feverish, frenzied pitch. Loud gasps and relieved moans followed rigidly tensed muscles as everyone came within seconds of each other, no doubt the relief of one triggering the release of another. We fell apart, breathing heavily, and looked at each other somewhat in shock, taken aback by the ease with which we had come together and the desperation with which we had coupled.

Mrs. Carter was the first to break the spell, standing and straightening her skirt, then arranging her top appropriately around her still excited breasts and nipples that refused to stand down. Mom stood next and then Glenda. I was the last to get up, moving back and sitting on the couch, pulling my shorts up as I moved.

“I really should be going,” Mrs. Carter said in a controlled, even tone as if she had just finished a nice cup of tea.

“Me too,” Glenda added, still short of breath.

They walked to the door and Mom followed. Although they were out of my sight, I could shear them talking about getting together again but after a prolonged silence during which the door did not open I got up to investigate.

They were all in a group hug, trading kisses, hands sliding around waists and gliding up to caress shoulders and necks with pauses at the sides of breasts. My appearance triggered a break-up. They said final goodbyes and the two women left, leaving Mom and I alone.

“Whew,” Mom said.

“Yeah.”

“I think I’ll go upstairs before cleaning up.”

Mom started up the stairs.

“I’ll get it, Mom.”

I picked up some dishes and cups.

“Leave it,” Mom said.

“I don’t mind,” I said, turning to look at Mom.

She had stopped halfway up the stairs. One look at her and I dropped the dishes. Mom giggled and ran up the stairs. I roared up after her. Though it was an upstairs fuck, it had qualities associated with The Room.

Nothing was ever explicitly said but Mrs. Carter put a stop to all the gossip within a week. Mom baked her specialty, an upside down pineapple cake, and sent me to deliver it to Mrs. Carter. She was waiting in a long flowing, thin cotton dress similar to the one she had worn before. I wondered, given that she had nice legs, why she wore such long dresses. Quickly putting the cake in the kitchen, Mrs. Carter took me by the hand and led me directly upstairs.

“My husband won’t be home for an hour or two,” she said.

I followed eagerly, watching her small butt move underneath the long skirt as she swished up the stairs. She led me into her bedroom and up to her bed where she turned and pressed against me, arms circling my neck as her mouth latched onto mine. I had forgotten how incredibly active her mouth was and almost forgot to explore her small, nipple encrusted tits. They were long and hard and Mrs. Carter moaned as soon as my palms slid over them. I pulled the dress off her shoulders and peeled it down to her waist, then ducked my head to capture one of those elongated erasers between my lips and sucked it deep into my mouth, enveloping most of her tit in the process.

“Bite them,” Mrs. Carter cried.

I complied. Her dress slipped over her narrow hips and fell to the floor. She jumped on me, wrapping her legs around my waist, whispering, “Get your cock out!”

Hastily, I shoved my pants down. She lifted herself and then plunged down onto my shaft as soon as my cock was free, moving violently enough to throw me off balance. I stumbled, half-turned, and fell onto the bed. Mrs. Carter laughed like a school girl, humping me wildly and demonstrating that she had a mouth down below that was just as active as the one above.

I never got off my back. Try as I might, I couldn’t twist Mrs. Carter around. She was petite but wiry, tough, and extremely agile. My own size and weight became a liability. She worked on me from above with both mouths and I acquiesced. What the hell, I would let her have her way and then have mine after she wore herself out.

But it didn’t turn out that way. I was still squirting inside her when I realized that I couldn’t stop her from sliding off my cock which desperately wanted to retain her warmth. I tried to stop her but my hands couldn’t grab her because my arms wouldn’t lower. I turned my head to see my left arm restrained by a handcuff and tried to pull my right across to loosen it but it too was held. I raised my head and looked down my body.

“What the fuck?”

“You shouldn’t swear, young man,” Mrs. Carter spoke curtly, reminding me that Mom had said she was once a teacher.

She had already restrained my left leg, probably while I was looking at my hands, and as I watched, slow-witted and dumbfounded, she closed the cuff around my right ankle.

“There, that should do it.”

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Your husband will be home soon,” I protested.

“That’s right, so you’d best keep your voice down.”

Mrs. Carter checked each restrained limb and cinched each one a bit tighter to restrain me further.

“But, I have to go.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. Not yet, anyway. Maybe after my shower.”

“But what if he comes home?”

“Shhhhhh,” Mrs. Carter put her finger to her lips and walked away, calmly, hips swaying sexily, into the adjoining bathroom.

Flat on my back, I listened to the shower and gradually relaxed. Obviously, Mrs. Carter wanted another go around but wanted to be clean and fresh at the start. Mr. Carter probably wasn’t due home for a long time and she probably knew he would be working late. I smiled and waited for her to finish her shower. I could play her game. Anyway, one more go round wouldn’t hurt.

Clearly, Mrs. Carter was a woman that enjoyed control. I smiled, thinking about the way Mom and Mrs. Hancock had sucked me into becoming involved, talking about her yoga prowess and the positions she could hold herself in. Yeah, right, as if Mrs. Carter would ever relinquish control and let me fuck her in a rolled-up position. I laughed out loud. Oh well. I stretched and smiled lazily, then squirmed on the bed, relishing in my hardening cock. Would she sink upon my shaft as soon as she was out of the shower, body still wet, or would she use her mouth to tease my cock?

The shower stopped but she didn’t appear. I heard a towel scrubbing a body and then ruffling through hair. The shrill whine of a hair dryer blocked out all other hints of what Mrs. Carter was doing. Finally, she emerged from the bathroom and walked past the bed, parading her tanned body in front of me. The tease! She smiled and her eyes opened wider when she noticed my hard cock.

“Don’t get too worked up,” she said. “I won’t be able to take care of that for a while.”

“Uh huh,” I said in a sarcastic tone, knowing full well, by her past behavior, that it wouldn’t be long before Mrs. Carter was sinking her pussy onto my cock. I cocked my hips to give an extra lift to my cock before she disappeared into her closet.

Mrs. Carter emerged from the closet with a dress, an evening dress, which she draped on a bench in front of her dresser before getting a bra and panties from a drawer. She put those on, sat down, and started brushing her hair. I watched, bemused.

Nice act, lady.

I wiggled on the bed to make my cock waver about in the air. She looked at me and smiled.

“I told you,” she said.

“Yeah, sure.”

Mrs. Carter finished her hair and began applying make up, reminding me of the many times I used to watch Mom do the same thing. Thinking of Mom made me even hornier. I had to save some for her, no matter how wild Mrs. Carter got, because I knew she’d want to hear all about how Mrs. Carter fucked when I got home. I laughed, and Mrs. Carter looked at me, shaking her head. If she only knew that I would tell Mom every detail as soon as I got home, the way she moaned and whimpered and how she reacted as I fucked her, all while fucking my mother.