Secret No Longer Ch. 11

Jason read this and smiled.

"Have fun, however your choose to," he said, giving me a playful pat on the behind under the water. I playfully slapped him back as he ducked away.

"Shirley, you sly one, you," I said, grinning, as I approached her. "Admit it: you've got a little agenda here, don't you?"

"Well, only if you choose to accept it---Mr. Phelps," she replied.

"I think I do, now. Just some looking, though. I'm not ready to take it much beyond that."

"It's your body and yourself. Nobody is going to force you to take anything where you don't want it to go. By the way, I have a little something of my own in mind, much the same, for that studly son of yours. I hope that's OK."

"It is, Shirley. Go for it!"

Not too surprisingly, Shirley's own undies were much like mine, practically invisible when wet. I watched her heading over toward the boys at the shallow end. As she did, the water level dropped below her breasts. As she proceeded toward the boys I saw Jason glance her way and then jump in surprise. So, my question is answered, I see. Shirley has not yet been part of the action among Jason, Carla and Timmy. Shirley's provocative exposure is new to him. I enjoyed the response.

Timmy, of course, was unfazed.

"Mom, you hussy you!" he cried. "What do you think you're doing, parading those luscious breasts and those pert, hard little nipples right in front of my friend here?"

"Ooh, really?" she said in a cartoonish Betty-Boop voice. "I'm so sorry, young men!" She crossed her hands over her breasts.

"There, Jason, now she's decent. Isn't that better?"

"No."

"Why, you nasty boy, you!" Timmy cried, aghast. "I get the distinct impression that you consider my very own mother to be a sexy, alluring, shapely, seductive, fetching, arousing, stimulating, wild, crazy, sizzling-hot, irresistible siren, or something like that."

"Something like that. Just like that."

"Now, that's more like it!" Shirley piped up. "You're a sweet kid. Gimme a hug!"

"Gladly!" Jason replied eagerly, and threw his arms around Shirley. The embrace continued a long time, and there was plenty of subsurface turbulence, betraying some interesting goings-on down there, hidden from view. Rather than think about what they might be, I took the natural lead of my own feelings. Resolutely, I made my way toward the boys just as Shirley had. As my breasts broke the water line I saw Timmy repeating Jason's reaction to his mother almost identically, and I exulted in the feeling. With pleasant little thrills surging up and down my spine I approached Timmy.

"Now, Timmy," I said, severely, "I must have a talk with you about your assessment of Shirley's clothing and what Jason was just seeing. Clearly you are in dire need of a revision of your standards."

Timmy lifted his eyes momentarily as if overplaying the stance of an itinerant Puritan preacher of the 19th century.

"On the contrary, Mrs. C..."

"Linda!"

"Linda. I must inform you that attire such as Shirley was wearing, when saturated with water and then displayed to a young man such as Jason, invariably provokes lascivious and lustful thoughts."

"I'll drink to that!" Shirley cried, lifting an imaginary wine glass. Timmy gave his best harrumph and continued.

"In fact, Linda, I would be remiss if I did not bring it strongly to your attention that you yourself, at this moment, are expressing a nearly identical force upon both of the young men present, to wit, Jason, your son, and my humble self."

"Oh, really," I said, scornfully. "By that I trust you are referring to the rather clear display of my breasts..." I cupped my hands over them and played with them, forcing his attention directly to them, "...as so minimally concealed by the transparent fabric of my wet brassiere."

"That is correct, in part." I sensed a little quivering excitement poking through his mock severity.

"Oh, then you must also be including in your assessment these very prominent, and at this moment excited, nipples, pressing through that same sheer fabric as if they wanted to burst right through it," I said, tracing over them with my fingertips. "So then, just what kind of awful things will come from that?

"Well..." A long drawn-out pause. "How about...." Then suddenly, "this?

At that he lunged at me and grabbed me around the upper legs, lifting me and splashing me back down. As I gleefully pretended to struggle, he lifted me again, this time with his lips at the level of my breasts, and then, with exaggerated motions for the benefit of the others. locked his lips on my nearer nipple.

I feigned pounding on the top of his head as if to dislodge myself from him.

"Ooh, nasty, nasty, Timmy!"

At that he nuzzled his face against my breast harder and I began to lose interest in the role-play, gaining interest in the sensation of this young man's attentions to my breast. My cries turned to sighs and I began to hold his face against my breast.

All the while, though, I forced myself to remember my limits. As extreme as Jason's and my behavior had become, this time of breaking rules did not extend to sex with any other man on the planet. That boundary was sharp and clear. Things were far short of that now, but behind the giddy fun and pleasure of this boy's attention, I resolved to keep well short of that, and that meant short of even leading him on to expect it, which would be cruel. For now, though, there was nothing to worry about.

Now repeating that mysterious embrace I had observed between Jason and Shirley, I felt Timmy wrap his arms around me and sweetly envelop me. His hands were straying over my butt, outside my panties, and I had no problem with that; I let myself explore his own tight derrière myself. I expected him to move on from there, and as his hands found my hips and aimed forward, I felt him stop and heard a quiet, sharp little hum, pitched to clearly be the question: is it OK?

In reply I took his face in my hands and kissed him, then whispered, "No. The time may come someday, maybe not. But not now. You're very sweet to ask me first." I kissed him again.

"My pleasure," he whispered. "If anything ever does happen, it has to be because everyone concerned is OK with it."

The suggestion of a number that must include Fred began to spoil the fun again. The membrane was stretching to the breaking point, and a time I was dreading, and inevitable one, loomed ahead. Again, though, I bottled it up before it spoiled the fun. In moments I was back in the swing of things.

Timmy continued the embrace a while longer, and I let him put his hands on my butt inside the panties, which pleased him. It pleased me too. I could not tell him that I wanted exactly what he had wanted and had chivalrously asked about before taking it for himself.

Presently the frolic evolved into an impromptu game of tag, in which the objective was not so much to keep from being tagged as to have an excuse to not-quite-accidentally touch interesting places on the bodies of the other players. I expected young men's hands to find my breasts, and I got what I expected. When Timmy managed to slip his hand inside my bra I slapped at it underwater, but didn't try to remove it, so he knew it was all in play. Emboldened by this, he slowed some of his quick touches until his hands were freely roaming the surface of my breasts.

"Timmy...?" I whispered.

"Yes, Linda?"

"Can you promise you'll be content if I just let you go as far as you've gone already tonight?"

"I promise. I don't want anything that will make you uncomfortable."

"That's good. I am enjoying this and I want to have fun, and give you some fun, but I don't want to lead you to expect things I'm not willing to give."

"I already knew that, but thanks for saying it out loud."

"OK. If you think I'm pushing it, just tell me. I trust you to say so even if it means I have to rein in on something."

"I will, but I can promise you that, whatever you choose to do, I'll keep the limits straight."

"You're a gem, Timmy," I said, and gave him a little kiss, then swam away, toward the deep end.

"Hey guys!" I yelled.

"Hey what?"

Quickly I unfastened my bra and raised it high over my head.

"How about this?" I yelled, and tossed the garment to the side of the pool.

"It ain't the latest fashion from Pa-ree, but I like it!" Timmy cried.

"I'll second that."

"Hey, just wait just a gol-darned minute!" Shirley called out. "She's not the only supermodel around here, you know!" She made her way to the poolside steps, then walked to the side.

"See? I've got the same outfit!" she called out, and then, with a flourish, unfastened her own bra and tossed it aside. The boys applauded.

"Hey, Shirley Supermodel, how about that ensemble I saw the other night?"

"You mean the one just like this one, except with one less garment?"

"That very one."

"Hmm... I'm not sure..."

She was playing her uncertainty but I also saw a glance in my direction, and I knew she was silently asking me if I would object. I just smiled brightly and nodded.

"OK, then, but it'll cost you extra."

"Hey, whatever the price is, I'll pay it!" Jason said.

"Well, then, here goes!"

At that she shimmied out of those sheer panties with a style that impressed even me. I made a mental note to ask her about it and maybe get a few pointers. The flimsy fabric teased with her bushy pelvis and finally dropped to the concrete walkway.

"There. Approve?"

"It just doesn't get any better, Shirley!" Jason replied, with affirming noises from Timmy as well. Shirley danced and paraded a bit and then hit the water again.

Now I wanted to do something. I would not strip nude; that would be too dangerous to my self-imposed limits. But they had not seen me with those wet panties, and at least I could give them that much.

"OK, if you wanna play dueling supermodels, we'll play dueling supermodels!"

I made my way to the same place Shirley had, keeping my back to the boys. I started undulating my hips, teasing them with my butt, even pulling down the panties. No big deal on that side.

The boys hooted and hollered their approval while Shirley made wacky mock-jealousy faces.

"Thank you, thank you..." I said, Marilyn-Monroe style, starting to turn forward, then retreating. I did it enough to provoke some strong entreaties to end the mystery and when I thought it was time, turned back, shining my full frontal (almost) radiance to my adoring audience.

The panties, of course, hid nothing; indeed, with the sun behind me, it was hard to see them at all. I had retained the slight security of the garment while actually giving them essentially the same show Shirley had by stripping nude. The glowing appreciation behind the playful acts of the boys was sweet, exhilarating, exciting. I knew I would have to remind myself to keep things in line if I was to keep my promise to myself.

As Shirley had, I strutted a bit and returned to the water. The frolic continued, with both boys homing in on my now-bare breasts with great skill, with me avoiding them only to the extent of the game.

Afternoon shadows were heralding evening, and with that, the frolic turned into more quiet, more personal intimacies As we stood at the shallow end of the pool, Timmy stood behind me and massaged my shoulders and back and then let his hands flow over my breasts, now freely cupping them, exploring them, massaging and caressing them, sending sweet little shivers of pleasure through me. I held onto my limits and still enjoyed it, and was pleased at that.

Jason was doing much the same, though his hands were below the water line much of the time. Gradually we closed the distance until all four of us were close enough to converse easily.

"I know you have to keep a rein on things, Linda," Shirley said. "Please tell me if what we're doing is straining that."

"Thanks, but it won't be a problem."

"Good. Jason's a terrific guy; you can be very proud of him."

"I am, Shirley, I am. And may I say the very same about your Timmy. A real man, and a real gentleman as well."

"That's my boy, Linda," she said, and at that, turned his attention back to my son.

True to his word, Timmy did not attempt to venture beyond my stated limits despite the clear evidence that the same boundaries were not impeding my son and his mother. I was increasingly concerned that my boundaries would, in fact, fail, not because of Timmy, but because of me.

As Timmy and I looked on, his hands gently tracing my own body, Jason lifted Shirley and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She arched her back and Jason drew his lips to her breasts, teasing them and her nipples. Now no longer divided between arousal and innocent frolic, Shirley was slipping quickly into that sweet world of sexual arousal. Her body began to undulate spontaneously as Jason expertly varied his attentions. At one point I saw her stretch toward him and reach down and suddenly realized that she had stripped him of his shorts. Now, before my eyes, Shirley and my son danced, nude and ready.

Shirley then turned her glazed eyes in our direction, once more testing my acceptance, which I granted. Her face returned to Jason; he kissed her, and then we saw a lifting movement beneath the water followed by the unmistakable signs of union. I turned to Timmy.

"Timmy, Jason told me about your threesome with Carly," I whispered. "I'd like to know: has there ever been anything with Shirley?"

"No. Remember when Mom first let him see her breasts in that wet bra? That was a first for him, so he hasn't been past that. This is all totally new to him...and her."

The sight before me was pushing all of my buttons. Almost as if observing from outside myself, I heard my breath quicken, felt my heart race and sensed subtle movements in Timmy's arms, the movements of sex. I forced myself to keep still, but I could not force myself to turn away. Timmy's hands were now over my breasts most of the time, and freely wandering everywhere else except that still-forbidden realm protected by the front side of my panties.

I was also aware of another sign of Timmy's presence: the unmistakable impression of a rigid cylinder against the flesh of my butt, and I realized that he had also removed his shorts and I was feeling his own hard cock against me. I thrilled at the sensation, automatically moving against it, yearning for it and forcing myself to keep in check. I felt Timmy move back a bit, and the firm rod ceased to press my flesh.

"Linda," Timmy whispered very softly, "I'm sorry about that. It was automatic; I forgot my promise."

"It's OK. I almost forgot it myself."

Another young man might have taken that as a sign of vulnerability, an invitation. Timmy was too chivalrous for that. He kept his distance, which was both a relief and a frustration for me.

The slow, smooth dance before us had metamorphosed into the quick one, the frantic one, sending swirls of water in every direction. Impeded by the mass of the water, their bodies took on an unusual grace, beautiful in itself. Higher and higher they rose, until they peaked together and Jason cried out his orgasm. Together they rode the wild rapids and gradually let peace return. In time they separated.

I worried a bit that, despite my silent assurances, Shirley would be unsure of me, so I walked to her, put my hands on her shoulders.

"That was beautiful. I'm sure Jason got more out of it than I did, but was great nonetheless."

"Thank you for that," she said softly, and hugged me.

Jason and Shirley had had their time, but it was not all over. I knew I had to find my own release, and the obvious way soon presented itself, when Timmy and his mother started some little teasing games. Jason smiled and made his way toward me.

"You OK, Mom?"

"I'm fine, Jason," I replied. "Forgive me if what I just saw has left me a bit wound up myself."

"Nothing to forgive, of course, but there are more needs here that need attention."

I was about to speak when he obviated the need. I felt his embrace and melted into it. Gradually closing the distance between us and the other two, he lifted me the same way he had lifted Shirley. I reached to find his cock and discovered is was hardening. At my touch it continued until it was fully ready. Timmy and Shirley were occupied in much the same thing.

We were nearly side-by-side now, and Jason lifted again and relaxed, and his young manhood was once again within me. He thrust himself into me powerfully, while I returned the force as best I could. Mother and son were fucking, while right beside them, another mother and son were fucking as well.

Uncanny, isn't it, I thought. I had put a moral boundary against welcoming any man other than this one into me for the duration of our "vacation," and had found the alternative in incest! Crazy, by any ordinary reckoning, but perfectly sensible for us, right then.

In the throes of passion, our inhibitions were greatly reduced. I felt a hand straying over my belly which I knew was not my son's. My eyes met Timmy's and did not signal disapproval. The hand strayed downward, downward, until I felt Timmy's fingers playing with my clit, while the merest distance away, Jason's cock pounded into me. Jason's presence guaranteed the limit and I yielded to the desire for Timmy's touch. Jason saw, and decided to do the same to Shirley, which meant that two women were getting a double dose of pleasure, and we didn't have to try hard to make sure they knew it. Our noises heightened; our bodies drove against our men harder; every sensation, for all four of us, was elevated until the ultimate, and the inevitable return to peace, had transpired.

That night was a busy one when Jason and I returned home.

Later, alone in my bed, in the silence of my room, I began to worry. Would I be able to keep control if something like this happened again? And what if it did? Would it matter? How, and how much?

All the while, just a hair's breadth beneath the surface, the real problem was threatening. That army, the one side of that tug-of-war that had tormented me that night, the side upon which I had pronounced defeat, was growing restive. I had hoped the war was over, but it had been just a battle, and the forces were regrouping, preparing for a new assault. It was the army of Right, of Conscience, the morality that is not dictated in the words of others, but in the sensibilities of our own, the forces of integrity, loyalty, respect, and most important, love. That voice that had firmly offered me the choice to turn the doorknob or leave it was by no means silenced; I had but maintained a constant cacophony of sensuousness that had drowned it out. Now the voice was growing louder and the masking noises less and less effective.

I knew all along this could not last forever. I told myself I'd be ready for it to end, and I was half-right. As strong as my passions had become, I knew I could learn to live without the titillation when the greater love of my husband was mine again, and deep down, I knew I could trust Jason to make the same decision. But the other half was Conscience, facing the reality of my acts, how and why, and what they meant. Would I be ready for that too, when the time came--the time that was approaching very very quickly?

I knew well, as much as I tried to deny it, that the answer was no.

(to be continued)