The Weekend

Barbara smiled warmly at her daughter, wistfully remembering what a loving husband and devoted father her David had been as she reassured the young girl, "Oh he did sweetheart, he truly did."

After a few moments of reflective silence, Emma suddenly exclaimed to her startled mother, "Well I can certainly assure you of one thing, mum. Men still want the same as back in your day. Give them a hot pussy and a welcoming mouth and they're as happy as pigs in shit."

"EMMA!... YOU REALLY ARE DISGUSTING." her despairing mother screamed as the two women descended into hysterical laughter...

* * *

Saturday 5:42pm

"I'm going to sit with your dad."

Emma looked up from the newspaper just in time to catch sight of her mother leaving the apartment. She wasn't surprised that Barbara felt the need to sit in the pretty little rose-garden straight across the road from their front door. Just inside the park gates, the beautiful tranquil place was where the pair of them had sneaked into one night and secretly scattered her father's ashes, knowing it would always be in view from their apartment whenever they looked out.

At first, her mother had voluntarily just kept the garden neat and tidy, picking up any litter and lovingly tending to the flowers. Over the years though, it had also became a haven for the grieving widow to sit in whenever something was troubling her. She had tearfully confessed to Emma one night that she still felt close to her dad whenever she was sitting there, even talking to him and imagining what he would have said to her about anything that was bothering her. It had become her mother's way of deciding what she should do about any situation she found herself in.

David had been taken from them just over five years previously. A drunk driver had illegally shot through a red-light at high speed one sunny afternoon as her husband was on his way to pick Emma up from her grandparents' house. The idiotic drunken fool had ploughed straight into the driver's side of their BMW, killing both himself and David in a tangle of metal so severely fused together that the Fire Service took over four hours to cut the bodies out. As the police had told her at the time, all the air-bags in the world would not have prevented her beloved husband from being killed instantly in such a collision. Of absolutely no comfort to her at all, the coroner had informed the inquest court that several witness accounts confirmed David had looked carefully before entering the junction. He had the right of way. The lights had been in his favour for several seconds before he had pulled into the other road. The other driver was travelling at such a speed it would have been impossible for David to realise he was there. The coroner then concluded that he was in no doubt the poor victim would have had no prior warning before his life was so cruelly ended and that his life was taken unlawfully by a person who would never have to face justice.

Barbara had taken over four years to get through all the recognised stages of the grief of losing her husband in her late thirties. She'd been so depressed, that on more than one occasion, she had even contemplated ending her own life as she didn't think she could carry on without him. Her loving daughter, her parents, David's parents and sisters, all their mutual friends, had all helped the grieving widow pull through until she now felt able to get on with her own life as her mother had begged her to do. The problem was, what was her own life? All her friends had been friends of the pair of them. She felt like the proverbial spare wheel when invited to go out for a meal or to a party. Friends had gradually started to try to fix her up with various men whenever they invited her to a dinner party or whatever. It wasn't that she didn't try, she did. It was just that all the men concerned were either divorced with all the baggage that brought with them, or so ugly, or dull, or boring, she would never have fancied them in a month of Sundays...

Gradually she became almost a recluse. The invitations to socialise slowly dried up as she perpetually turned them down for one obviously false reason or another. More and more, she found herself alone in the large Victorian detached house David and herself had intended to be their family home forever. Her daughter Emma had gone away to university, only coming home at the end of term -- complete with several weeks worth of washing and ironing for her doting mother to do. Eventually a good friend of her late husband's, an architect of some repute, suggested she convert the over-sized dwelling into five different apartments, keeping the top floor for herself and letting out the other four flats. That, together with the life insurance and compensation from the other driver's insurance company, would give her a substantial income. More than enough to enable her not have to get a job if she didn't want to. The plans he drew up for her were spectacular to say the least and consequently, for the last six months, Barbara had been living in a fabulous two-bedroomed penthouse apartment with a large balcony that had wonderful views over the park where her late husband's ashes were scattered.

* * *

Saturday 6:23pm

As Barbara sat there in her favourite place, she thought about what her daughter and herself had been discussing earlier. She knew in her heart of hearts the loving girl was right. David would have wanted her to move on, get on with her life and yes, even meet other men. He had always stressed to her what a sexy lady she was. Even joked at times that perhaps he needed help to satisfy her fully. In their private moments together, they had even fantasised about taking other lovers and who those lovers might be amongst their friends or celebrities. But that's just what they were -- fantasies to turn them both on when they were making love, not something they would ever have contemplated doing in the flesh, so to speak.

Lonely as she was, she would gladly have welcomed any attempt by Gerald, the architect, to try to date her. He'd unknowingly been the subject of Barbara and David's fantasies of another man joining them in some kind of naughty threesome on more than one occasion. He was just the kind of great looking, late thirties, unattached man she would be willing to try to have a relationship with. Sadly, and inevitably it seemed, the handsome, charming, and more importantly, available potential lover was as gay as any man could be...

Now she was faced with the real prospect of having sex with someone else, Barbara was understandably nervous. Talking to Emma had actually helped her get over the feelings of betraying her late husband, but she would still have to face the physical act of having another man's penis inside her. Would it feel the same? Could she switch off enough not to compare the man to David? Would she enjoy it? Could she actually orgasm with another man? She knew her daughter thoroughly enjoyed having recreational sex with different men -- and women too, as the naughty young girl had just informed her astonished mother. She knew millions of other men and women enjoyed many different sexual partners without any problems. Could she enjoy it too? There was only one way to find out -- she needed to get herself fucked...

Unbeknownst to Barbara, Emma was watching her mother from the apartment balcony as she sat in the rose-garden. She instinctively knew what the older woman was thinking about, perhaps even talking to her late father about. She also suspected what the outcome of those thoughts would be. After their discussions earlier, Emma was almost certain what her mother would decide to do. A devious plan began to form in the scheming girl's mind.

"Jamie," she shouted through the open patio doors to her boyfriend who was watching some sport or other on the TV.

"Yes babe?" he replied, not really paying much attention as he continued to watch his program

"You'd fuck my mum if you got the chance wouldn't you?" she queried.

"In a heartbeat babe. She's fucking gorgeous." he replied absent-mindedly, too absorbed in his rugby match to actually realise what they were talking about...

* * *

Saturday 8:45pm

Later that evening, after turning down an invitation to go out for a drink or two with her two young visitors, Barbara lay on her bed reading a trashy romantic novel about upper-class maidens being ravished by magnificently muscled heroes clad only in riding breeches and manly sweat. The sort of rubbish that is aimed unashamedly at frustrated middle-aged women everywhere as a substitute for the real thing; intended to take them to a fantasy land somewhere deep in their imaginations -- and the sort of book that invariably turned her on.

Gently toying with her pouting labia as she impatiently waited for the two youngsters to go meet their friends at the pub, the distracted woman avidly concentrated on the erotic text she was reading, teasing herself absent-mindedly with her fingers as she eagerly looked forward to being left alone to enjoy her plastic friend without fear of being disturbed. She was so god-damned horny. Her sex was open like a blooming flower, her juices flowing freely from her vagina and soaking her free hand. Her nipples, those sensitive little nubs of pleasure, were stiff and erect, deliciously stimulated by the friction of the rough cotton t-shirt rubbing against them without the hindrance of a bra. The shirt was the only thing she was wearing, just something she had thrown on following a long soak in the bath after she'd had a light dinner with Emma and James. No panties, no bra. Just the thin cotton shirt -- and a naughty smile.

Suddenly shocked from her erotic dreaminess by the muffled laughter of her house-guests, Barbara heard her daughter shout, "See you later mum. Don't wait up. Love you." as she walked straight past her mother's bedroom door, thankfully without opening it. Startled out of her fantasies by the dread of her daughter catching her playing with herself like a randy teenager, the embarrassed mother frantically struggled to cover her self-explanatory nakedness as she tried to gather her wits together enough to reply -- only to be gratefully relieved to hear the front door slam shut as the two noisy youngsters left the apartment.

Barbara put her book down and listened intently for a minute or so. Horny and feeling as though her body could erupt in orgasmic bliss at any moment, she strained to hear any sounds from the rest of the flat, nervously seeking to assure herself that she had indeed been left alone in her home by her daughter and the young man who was about to become the centrepiece of her filthy fantasies. Finally relieved that she was now free to enjoy herself fully, she reached into her bedside cabinet and took out the object that was about to relieve her lewd desires, giggling salaciously to herself as she prudently replaced the batteries in her Rabbit with a new set. She laughed as she ruefully remembered being let down at the crucial moment once before. She didn't want to take the risk of having her orgiastic pleasure cruelly curtailed by an unforeseen lack of electric power again. Not tonight. Not right now...

"Mmmmm, I need you baby. Come make your dirty momma happy." She murmured, moaning softly as she wriggled the plastic toy into the correct position, its ears pressed against her twitching clitoris and the firm shaft deeply embedded inside her.

"Oh Yessss," she gasped, pressing the start button on low speed and feeling the steel balls rotating against the walls of her clasping vagina at the same time as the ears started vibrating against her impatient clitoris, "Oh God Yessss."

* * *

Saturday 9:08pm

Barbara lay back and wallowed in the nasty, impure thoughts going through her brain. The naughty masturbation; the debauched fantasies; had become the norm as her method of sexual relief over the last few months. Not having a real man to satisfy her carnal needs, she invariably turned to her plastic lover to quench her lust, revelling in the gloriously depraved sensations its vibrations induced throughout her whole body.

Tonight was going to be a particularly satisfying one. She could sense it. The conversations with her daughter; the eavesdropping on the sex taking place in the next room; the sight of that young, naked body, especially that hard throbbing penis; they had all combined to build up a well of desire in her that she was struggling to contain.

As she reclined on her bed with her long legs splayed almost painfully wide, one hand controlling the vibrating toy, the other playfully teasing and pinching her stiffly erect nipples, Barbara tormented herself mercilessly. She repeatedly brought herself to the cusp of a climax before turning the speed down on her surrogate lover and allowing her body to calm itself. Then starting again. All the while building up the pressure; more and more enticing and goading her body toward what she knew would be a totally mind-blowing and unforgettable orgasm

"Oh you sweet boy...If only you were here with me...Using me...Oh my God, if only you were FUCKING me..." Barbara moaned loudly, fully absorbing herself in the improper fantasy of her daughter's boyfriend making love to her,"Use me James...Please... Fuck me with that big stiff cock... Make me a woman again..."

The lewdly spread-eagled woman, now totally absorbed in her lecherous fantasies, opened her eyes and smiled lovingly at the handsome young man leaning on her dressing table and blatantly watching her whilst he stroked his large penis. She grinned at him, delighted by his obvious lust for her as he lecherously ogled her raunchy display of sexual depravity. Licking her lips suggestively, she closed her eyes again and plunged back into her illicit utopia.

* * *

Saturday 9:32pm

The image of James watching her with that lustful, knowing smile on his face repeatedly flashed across her befuddled brain, distracting her from her sensual pleasures.

Suddenly it hit her. The realisation...

Barbara's eyes shot open. Yes, he really was there. Yes, he was watching her. He wasn't part of her dream. The naked and very aroused boyfriend of her daughter was somehow stood at the bottom of her bed watching her debase herself.

"JAMES!..." she screamed at the top of her voice, "What on earth?... I thought you'd... Oh my God... Nooooo..."

Dragging the still-writhing vibrator from its wet hideaway, she hurled the buzzing toy across the bedroom and scrambled to retrieve the duvet that had fallen on the floor during her self-pleasuring activities, all the while trying unsuccessfully to cover her nakedness with her arms and hands.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?... I thought you'd gone out with Emma. Why are you still here?... Oh my God, James... GET OUT... Please... Just GO... Stop looking at me like that. It's wrong. What would Emma say?"

The young man grinned arrogantly at her. Reaching down and firmly gripping her slim ankles, one in each hand, he dragged her struggling body down the bed toward him.

"Don't worry about Emma, Mrs.'Aitch. This was all her idea. She reckons you need a good seeing to, and volunteered me to do it."

Too late, Barbara tried to struggle free, feeling herself being dragged unceremoniously toward the bottom end of her bed. The friction caused her t-shirt, already bunched up to her chest, to be pulled up and over her head, preventing her from seeing him as her naked body was fully exposed to his appreciative gaze.

"Please... Don't James... I don't want this... It's wrong... In so many ways it's wrong... I'm begging you, please don't do this..." she babbled, trying desperately to release her arms and head from the restraint of her crumpled shirt.

James grinned smugly at her struggling. Oblivious to her pleading, he roughly pulled her legs as wide apart as they would go, exposing her hairy loins to his lusty gaze. Shamefully she felt her vagina, already wet and glistening from its previous fondling, open like a willing clam for him to marvel at.

"My God, Mrs. 'Aitch, I just love your hairy snatch. It's fucking beautiful." he chuckled as he began teasing her entrance with the tip of his hard cock.

Barbara eventually struggled free from her t-shirt, leaving her naked body fully exposed for his enjoyment. Slowly her resistance faltered, her arms falling to her sides as her legs relaxed and her hips began to rise up to meet his tormenting penis. Her body's natural sexual desires were overpowering any remorse there might be left in her head. Her bubbling, pouting sex was betraying her, trying to draw him inside every time his magnificent body slid against her quivering thighs.

Deep down, she knew that only the initial shock of it all had caused her to try and resist James' carnal intentions in the first place. Emma was right, this is what her horny mother needed; what she had secretly lusted after for these last few months. Barbara wanted to be taken like this, hard and forceful, just like her David used to take her when she was this horny. She craved being used as a sexual plaything by a dominant male. Not made love to. Not seduced. Ravished, that's the word. Her mature body yearned to be invaded by the handsome, demanding young man poised between her legs, mercilessly teasing her with his spongy-tipped shaft of manhood and waiting arrogantly for her to beg him to transport her to the depths of her darkest, depraved desires.

Oh yes, Barbara Henson, this beautiful, undersexed 44 year old mother and widow was well aware of what she wanted; what her stunningly sexy body desperately needed at that moment -- this sexually deprived, perfect example of deliciously mature womanhood, had an overwhelming and intoxicating desire to be FUCKED...

Clinging on to her last vestige of reluctance and hardly struggling to free herself any more, Barbara whimpered softly, "Please don't James... Don't do this... It's wrong... We shouldn't... Please..."

She knew she was lost, knew she was his to do to her as he wanted. Submissively her arms slowly embraced him. Her hardened nipples rubbed excruciatingly against his smooth chest as she allowed her hips to rise and meet his, feeling his hard phallus slowly begin to sink into her intimate depths.

"Oh my God... Please... Yes... Oh fucking hell... YESSSSS..."

The ecstatic scream of sexual fulfilment echoed around the room as her sudden climax exploded her senses without warning. Tears of joy streamed from her tightly clenched eyes as her grateful pussy pulsed greedily around the first real cock to penetrate it for over five years -- and for the first time in her life, Barbara felt herself sliding into the delicious, dark oblivion of intense carnal delirium only ever experienced by the lucky few...

* * *

Sunday 12:05am

Some time later, Barbara smiled contentedly to herself, blushing slightly as she snuggled back into the warmth of her new lover's embrace. For the first time in years she felt completely fulfilled; totally satisfied. She had no idea of how many orgasms she had experienced over the last couple of hours, how many times she had cum at the behest of her demanding young lover. They had changed position so many times as they energetically fucked each other. He had taken her from behind. She had ridden him. He had fucked her missionary, her holding on to his firm muscular body with all the enthusiasm of a wanton whore. She had been amazed at his hardness, his ability to continually rise to the occasion as she demanded more.