Grandmother's Bed Ch. 04

We talked a lot too, about the present and the past and inevitably the question arose of what to do regarding my grandmother and, incidentally, where I was going to live for the remainder of my time at University.

"Valerie, we ought to go over to Gran's and smoke a peace pipe. It's been nearly a week since the bust-up and let's face it you're no longer in any position of moral superiority."

"I know. Ok, I'll call her and say we're coming over next Sunday afternoon; that'll rattle her!"

On the following Sunday I could see that mum had made an effort with her appearance, and I was conscious again of a sense of competition between mother and daughter. She was wearing more make-up than normal and had swapped her usual slacks for a close-fitting white skirt and a pink blouse; and she'd painted her nails red, which was also unusual for her. The overall effect was very pleasing and I felt stirrings of desire as we left and she drove us over to gran's; in fact I spent most of the journey with my hand high up on her thigh.

There was an awkward few minutes when we presented ourselves at Sylvia's front door. She was looking particularly well groomed; in fact it looked to me as though she too had made a special effort; her hair was newly styled and clean and glossy; her make-up had been carefully applied, as had her dark-red nail varnish; she wore a pearl-grey satin blouse and a black, pleated skirt; as always she wore dark stockings and black high-heeled slip-ons.

"Come in both of you. I'll put the kettle on, or would you rather have something stronger?" She was smiling but there was a rather touching air of uncertainty about my grandmother.

"Tea will be fine." Mother stopped just short of being curt and I started gabbling to cover the moment of embarrassment:

"Well, how have you been gran? You look great!" Valerie shot me a venomous look and I blushed hugely. They were, under the circumstances, almost unbelievably crass things to say. Notwithstanding, we settled in the drawing room, all on separate chairs or settees; the tea appeared and a general conversation limped along for a few minutes; all three of us looking increasingly uncomfortable. Eventually Sylvia coughed and put her teacup down:

""I think we need to clear the air. Valerie I'm ready to listen to anything you have to say to me and I'm ready to apologise unreservedly for my behaviour." I was intrigued as to how my mother would respond to this. Extracting a grovelling apology and craven promises of future conduct would no doubt give her daughter immense satisfaction but it would be the height of hypocrisy. I nearly fell off my chair when she calmly replied:

"Oh that's ok, I understand; John's a good-looking young guy; we've pretty well spent the last week in bed together. It never would have happened without you triggering it, so thanks." Sylvia and I stared blankly at Valerie for the space of a dozen heartbeats; Valerie sipped her tea, apparently unconcerned. Again, it was Sylvia who broke the silence:

"I don't believe you."

"Ask John."

I knew that that would be her response but I was still thunderstruck that she was putting us in this position. Sylvia looked across at me with a slightly raised eyebrow and I curled up and died inside:

"Yes, we did."

"Yes you did what?"

Yes. We have spent time in bed together in the last few days."

"Having sex?"

"Yes." There was a much longer silence. The mantelpiece clock ticked away, unconcerned with the drama unfolding in front of it. Valerie sat erect and composed; the light of challenge in her eyes. Eventually Sylvia spoke:

"This wasn't a competition for your son's affections, Valerie. What happened between us had nothing to do with you." And she'd hit the nail on the head at the first shot, with devastating accuracy.

"Exactly! It was something I couldn't be part of! Well I bloody well am now!" Mum's voice rose to a shriek and she started sobbing uncontrollably. Appalled, I hurried over to her and hugged her close. Sylvia also came over, more slowly, and sat down, almost gingerly, on the other side of mum:

"I'm sorry Valerie; that was a horrid thing to say. I never thought of it as coming between you and John, I know how much you love him; and I love you too." And there the three of us were, hugging each other as if our lives depended upon it. Mum in the middle with an arm round my neck and her head buried in Sylvia's blouse, mascara and face powder leaving its indelible imprint on the pearl-grey satin fabric. After a while mum's sobs abated and she blew her nose:

"I know you love me mum; I'm sorry too. Life's just been so crap since the divorce; I just wanted to be loved and then when it looked as though you'd taken John from me I tried to get him back. I guess I went over the top a bit there."

I kissed mum on the cheek. "Nobody ever took me from you, mum. And I don't regret anything that's happened, except that bit where you found us together with Nina; that was pretty crucifying." I looked across at Sylvia, who gave me a rather arch smile. Noticing this Valerie laughed and the atmosphere relaxed:

"Well where do we go from here? I'm really open to suggestions."

Like a gambler risking it all on red and damn the consequences I had the mad idea of suggesting a threesome. However, I wasn't quite sure what the fallout of all this was going to be. I wanted to continue sleeping with my mother and to resume sleeping with Sylvia and although I had a notion that Sylvia would be open to such a suggestion I doubted if Valerie would, particularly in the present circumstances. So I temporised:

"Why don't we have a glass of wine? I'll go for a takeaway." And suddenly the day wasn't so bad. Mum and I stayed until evening; the conversation grew lively and full of sexual innuendo. Mum was fine when Sylvia offered to continue putting me up during term-time. She even laughed when Sylvia said "I'll try not to wear him out too much for you!"

Throwing caution to the winds I even gave Sylvia a French kiss as we parted on the doorstep:

"You're a cheeky little sod" was my mum's comment as we drove away.

At home we were both ready for sex and went straight upstairs. I undressed Valerie slowly, kissing her all over and laying her on the bed as I stripped off. Naked and with a seriously hard penis we kissed deeply and passionately. Breaking off, Valerie rose and straddled my chest:

"Would you like to lick mummy's pussy darling? Put your tongue right inside me? Suck on my clitoris and make mummy come?" As she said this she was stroking herself, her middle finger with its painted nail rubbing her clitoris in a circular motion. The finger then disappeared inside her to the second knuckle and came out coated with a glistening lubricant. She slid the finger into my mouth:

"Can you taste mummy's juices?" Moving forward slightly she positioned herself over my face and gently lowered herself until my mouth engaged with her sopping cunt. "That's it darling lick me, lick me hard!" I slurped up and down her slit, flicking the tip of my tongue over her clit and trying to penetrate her with it. Reaching up I found her nipples and pinched them firmly:

"Yes! Mummy likes that, squeeze them harder!" I complied and she started writhing over my face, covering me in lubrication, rubbing her slick wetness over my mouth and nose:

"Mummy's coming now." She gave a long moan which rose to a scream as I tightened my grip on her nipples. Her orgasm washed over her and Valerie collapsed backwards onto her hands breaking her pussy away from my mouth. Pushing her off me I lifted her legs and quickly slid the whole length of my rigid cock into her. She gasped and reached up to me, pulling me down to kiss her. There was no question now of slow, gentle lovemaking; I wanted to fuck my mother hard until I came inside her. I grabbed her wrists and held her down, pressing my mouth on hers and pistoned my cock in and out of her hard and deep.

"Yes! Hold mummy down and fuck her hard. Fuck her like you used to fuck my mother. I bet you're going to fuck her again next week aren't you? Go on; tell mummy what you're going to do!"

This was just unbelievable. My mother seemed to be attuned to every erotic, incest laden fantasy that I'd ever dreamed about. Listening to her say these things as I thrust mercilessly into her was surreal to say the least:

"Yes" I said, "I'm going to fuck her next week and then I'm going to come back at the weekend and fuck you and maybe one day we'll all get together in bed and your mother can watch me fucking you and then I'll take my big, hard cock out of your hot cunt (I'd never used that word in front of her before!) and push it in your mother's mouth so she can taste her daughter's juices." Valerie stared at me her eyes wide, her mouth open and I thought for a moment that I'd gone too far. In fact she was building up to another orgasm:

"Oh god and then what will you do?"

"I'll push my cock into your mother and you can watch me fuck her and then you can suck my cock and taste your mother's juices!"

This was too much for both of us. Valerie thrashed and bucked on the bed as I held her down and crashed my cock in and out of her:

"Oooohhh, yeeessssss. Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!" Her head was jerking from side to side saliva on her chin and then it was my turn:

"Oh mummy darling, I'm coming, I'm coming inside you, oh Jesus, oh god!"

We hugged fiercely as the waves of passion ebbed and then we lay quietly together, me stroking the hair from Valerie's eyes and kissing her tenderly and gently. Eventually we rose from the bed and started picking through our clothing.

Valerie broke the silence:

"Do you think I'm weird saying all that stuff while we're fucking?"

"Well I might ask you the same question. Given our relationship, the fact that we are fucking sort of eclipses anything we say in the heat of the moment doesn't it?" It occurred to me that by asking me during sex what I was going to do, Valerie had been pushing me into saying something or towards something; something that she didn't want to raise alone. However, the moment for deep confession passed and we dressed and three days later Sylvia came over to collect me.

I had decided that I wanted a pretty full and frank discussion with Sylvia and I opened this on the way back to her house:

"What do you think of this whole situation, you know, me sleeping with mum and you?" Ignoring my implication that I would continue to sleep with her she chuckled:

"Well it's like being in a stage farce except that it's real life and the issue is incest instead of just marital infidelity. It's ok John, I think all the parties involved are happy with the situation. I for one have been missing your body and I'm looking forward to renewing the acquaintanceship just as soon as we get home!" Well, that answered one question anyway.

"Last night when mum and I were, well you know..."

"Fucking each other's brains out?"

"Yeah. Well I told mum that I wanted both of you together and I think she got really turned on."

"Fucking hell John, do you want me to crash the car? You're suggesting that my daughter and I join you in a menage-a-trois, is that correct?"

"Yes but only said in the heat of the moment. And I wasn't suggesting that you two had sex together, only that you were both there" I ended lamely.

"Oh well that's ok then; for a moment you had me worried." She glanced over at me and smiled. "I'll be completely honest with you, John; I think that I would be really, really turned on if I watched my daughter and her son having sex. I don't know what else would happen and I don't want to speculate."

I think the thought of it really, really had turned her on. Once home she stripped off to her underwear in the hall and, bending over the telephone table and pulling her panties aside, offered herself to me like a cheap slut. I didn't need to wait for a written invitation; I didn't even pull my pants down, I just unzipped the fly, pulled out by cock and sank it into her up to my balls. It wasn't really a good place for screwing but Sylvia braced her hands on the wall and thrust back at me and I steadied myself with a hand each side of her hips and fucked her steadily while she gasped and pressed her face to the table top. Just before I came I licked the end of my thumb and slid it into Sylvia's anus, up to the first knuckle. Her cunt spasmed as she came, triggering my own orgasm and I pulled out of her leaving a trail of semen dribbling down her leg onto her stocking top. Straightening up and turning to me she came into my arms:

"God I've missed you."

"Yeah, likewise."

"Liar, you've been fucking like a rabbit."

Later we made love more sedately, Sylvia rocking backwards and forwards on top of me before we changed to the missionary position. We kept this position for at least half an hour, neither of us ready to come and neither of us wanting it to finish. We kissed and nuzzled each other and Sylvia gently raked her manicured nails down my back, still sore from her daughter's attentions. Towards the end the pace increased and Sylvia dug her nails into my buttocks, stretching one hand round so the tip of her middle finger could press into my anus.

"Does my daughter do this for you?" she grinned up at me, pushing a little deeper.

"It's not a competition" I said, echoing my words from a few days previously. Then I started to come; and Sylvia pushed her finger right in and I felt my sphincter grip it as the orgasm racked me.

And thus the pattern of my life was established for the next few weeks, up until the Christmas break. Weekdays I stayed with Sylvia, sleeping in her bed and making love daily; on Friday afternoons I returned home and Valerie and I spent the weekend in a frenzy of incestuous abandon, fucking at least twice a day and returning to Sylvia on Sunday afternoon. Thank God for youth!

One Sunday morning in late November, as Valerie and I lay in post-coital somnolence, she turned her head to me: "Grandmother's invited us over for Christmas day and Boxing day this year; what do you think; will it be too awkward?"

My first thought was that for a couple of days my two lovers would be under one roof with booze running freely and plenty of seasonal bonhomie.

"I think that would be a good idea. Gran'll be lonely by herself over Christmas."

"Hmm, raises an interesting point though; who will you be sleeping with?"

This interesting point wasn't brought up again but the holiday arrangements were made and Valerie and I loaded up the car and drove over to Sylvia's house after lunch on Christmas Eve. Since we'd been sleeping together Valerie had overhauled her wardrobe and generally taken more care with her appearance. Prompted by my recent thoughtful and unselfish birthday gift to her of a pair of black seamed stockings, she had taken to wearing stockings and a suspender belt most of the time I was around and had spiced up her lingerie collection with some silky black cami-knickers and even some split-crotch panties. Nevertheless I was surprised to see her wearing seamed stockings today; she'd never before worn them out of the house as far as I knew. She was also wearing a very sexy, close fitting and quite revealing black dress of a lace-trimmed silky material and she'd chosen a slightly slutty crimson lipstick and matching nail varnish; the outfit was completed by four-inch heeled black patent leather pumps. I wondered for whom this display was intended; there was more than a hint of an alpha-female parade about it.

Over at grandmother's Sylvia "threw wide the Yuletide door" and welcomed us in. As she led the way into the drawing room I did a double take; she was also wearing seamed stockings, although her dress, equally tight-fitting, was dark grey and she had chosen dark-green nail varnish. I was pretty sure that they hadn't collaborated on their outfits; what I was experiencing was two females vying for the attentions of the male; it looked like being an interesting Christmas!

The house was filled with seasonal decorations and roaring fires and a large Christmas tree was lit up in a corner of the drawing room. Sylvia immediately offered us a drink and I realised that the Christmas tree wasn't the only thing in the room that was lit up. She'd clearly been drinking before we arrived and although she was in no way drunk, I could see that the first levels of reserve had already been cast aside and she was very touchy-feely, particularly with me. Sensing rather than seeing Valerie's glare I excused myself into the kitchen and got us all a drink; the sooner Valerie was outside of a few glasses of wine the better. At least, so I thought.

In fact, as the afternoon and early evening progressed, the fact and nature of the competition for my attention between the two ladies started to crystallise. One would grab me for a kiss under the mistletoe, and not just a chaste mother or grandmother kiss either. A little later the other would pull me up for a dance and press their crotch into mine, their head buried in my neck. In this competition Sylvia had the slightly better hand, as it was her territory. She pushed the bounds by dipping a finger in the trifle mix and inviting me to lick it off to 'see if there was enough sherry in it.' Valerie responded by complaining of an itchy back and asking me to unzip her dress and scratch it. As I scratched and she moaned appreciatively I kissed her shoulders and neck and then, with some trepidation but hoping to prompt an even more explicit display from Sylvia, I reached around and cupped both my mother's breasts, pulling her back against my chest.

She made no protest and indeed as I continued to nuzzle her neck she leaned back into me with an audible and contented sigh. Sylvia's next move was to announce supper and ask us to go to the table. She'd put Valerie and I at far ends of the oval table which I thought a little obvious but I raised no objections during the meal as my grandmother slipped her stockinged foot out of her shoe and stroked my calf with it. I think Valerie was pretty sure what was going on but there wasn't much she could do about it.

After supper I made a point of sitting in the middle of the largest settee in the drawing room, leaving the ladies the choice of sitting alone or sitting either side of me. They chose the latter, albeit with some posturing. By then all three of us were a little drunk; Sylvia possibly more than that, judging by her next move:

"Have you got a nice big kiss for your grandmother Sylvia?" she said putting her arms around my neck and lifting her legs onto my lap. I turned towards her with the intention of disarming her with a smile and a quick peck on the cheek, or lips. Sylvia was having none of that; she pulled my head to hers and opened her lips against mine. We kissed for about a minute during which I was acutely aware of my mother sitting motionless on my other side. Breaking the kiss I turned to my mother:

"Have you got a nice big kiss for your son?"

She smiled at me gratefully and, sliding my arm around her shoulder, we kissed slowly and sensuously. I wasn't at this point trying to exclude Sylvia, but rather to include Valerie. However, feeling her legs move from my lap I was surprised, even in my slightly drunken state, when Sylvia started running her hand over my crotch, seeking my penis and tracing its line as it grew inside my trousers. The evening seemed to be approaching a critical point and my feeling was 'bring it on and let's see where it goes!'

The scene on the settee actually stabilised slightly over the next few minutes. I had an arm around each of the ladies and they were leaning close to me, allowing my hand to cup one of their breasts. I kissed them alternately and with an equal measure of passion; Sylvia was still stroking my cock through my trousers and Valerie was pretending not to notice. Relinquishing their breasts I ran my hands down over their hips and, simultaneously, pulled up the hems of their skirts, revealing their stocking tops and, in Sylvia's case, a glimpse of her silky panties. Sylvia responded by gripping my erection more firmly and more obviously and stroking it up and down through my pants, but it was good old mum again who really got the party going: