Bonking at the Bluff

Needless to say, ten minutes later, Randy had Chloe on her back on the chase and was giving her a deep-thrust missionary, although he had had to be prompted. When Chloe's face had come off his cock, she'd looked up into Randy's face, whispering, "Now."

Now what? Randy suddenly was a little confused on what to do. She still had her hand wrapped around his shaft. Was he supposed to shoot his load now?

"Fuck her, you dumb klutz. She wants you to fuck her." Randy turned and looked at Roger, who was holding out a condom to him. Thoughtful cousin that he was, he'd already taken it out of the packet.

While Randy pumped Chloe's cunt and she whimpered about how big he was and dug her fingernails into his shoulders, Roger sat and watched and Janice stood and watched, although she seemed to be fiddling with whatever she'd had under her arm when she came out of the house.

Chloe cried out her "Oh shit, you nasty, nasty boy" and started groaning when an increasingly confident Randy rolled her buttocks up and began his cock-in-her-ass special. His attention was split between getting into her ass channel and figuring out what Janice was fiddling with at her own waist. Having adjusted whatever it was, Janice approached him from the rear. Now it was Randy's turn to cry out and groan and huff and puff, as Janice started working her strap-on into his ass. As he gave, he would receive.

A few minutes later Roger was mounting Janice's ass and they were all having a writhing good old family fuck.

Janice didn't go into the city for the next week and a half, and she didn't bring any of her young men home either. Roger and Randy took turns screwing her enough to keep her fully satisfied.

Randy was a little surprised at first to see how easily Roger moved into mounting his mother's ass—and how willingly she rolled up her buttocks and spread her legs for him, but Janice and Roger made it all seem so natural—even that they'd happily, in the coming days, pull Randy into a threesome, Randy working Janice's ass, while Roger filled her cunt.

Such a close family.

Randy's mother, Joyce, didn't ask Randy a thing about how his two weeks at the Bluff went when he came—hobbling—home. Didn't even say anything about his perpetual sloppy grin or his inability to walk a straight line.

But, when she served him steak and his favorite apple pie that night—in her negligee—the wheels started spinning in his brain. He had thought that she and Roger had been on the phone to each other regularly over the two weeks. She must have heard about the good, but draining, time Randy had had at the Bluff. All that bonking at the Bluff.

All that bonking Roger did of his mother at the Bluff. Just another pointer Randy had gotten from Roger. Screwing his mother.

That night, when he pushed open the door to the master bedroom—not hearing a single squeak of hinges but hard as hard can be anticipating the squeaking of the bed springs—what he was wondering was if any of his mother's lovers had ever given it to her in the ass. Was her ass already well reamed for it?

You betcha.