A Mother’s Dream
Cast of characters: Arlene, the mother; Judy and Alex, the 19 year-old twins; Hal, the husband
It was noon and, except for the continuous soft purr of the refrigerator and an occasional drip from the bathroom faucet, the house was quiet.
Arlene was alone. Her son and daughter would be at the University until mid-afternoon. At six her husband would arrive home from work. These next precious hours she had to herself.
She was attractive, but not beautiful, with long auburn hair and full lips. When she put red lipstick on, you got a hard-on. Her eyes were gray and she could see in the dark. When she went to the mall, nobody paid any attention to her. That’s because she was of medium height, and wore loose fitting clothes. Her breasts were large and they bobbled when she walked. She wore flesh colored nylons rolled slightly above her knees. There was no garter belt, just hair. She was a very hairy woman.
There was no reason for her to go to the mall. She felt it was for kids. She ordered her sex toys on line, and when the lady delivered the mail, gave her the box, plainly wrapped in brown paper, the lady always winked at her. The mail lady hoped one of these days Arlene would invite her in for coffee.
Arlene was a private person. She had two children — twins, 19 years old — and a husband. His name was Hal. If you asked Arlene about Hal, she’d ignore you and pretend she didn’t hear you. She felt if you really wanted to know about Hal, you’d ask her again. But no one ever did.
Arlene wasn’t into hobbies. Except one, if you want to call it a hobby. It was a preoccupation, it made her feel good about herself, something the church never did.
Masturbation. Her own dirty little secret. Every time got wilder than the last, more wicked, more elaborate, more exhausting. At times she felt disgusted with herself, but not very often.
She washed her pussy in the bathroom. She often felt disgusted after masturbating — rotten and sinful and depraved. That’s what she learned from going to church. She tried to feel remorse for feeling good, but that was dumb. Where did the Bible say feeling good was bad?
Standing in front of the full-length bathroom mirror, she held her dress up to her waist and spread her cunt lips apart to look at the inside of her pussy. Her clit was stiff and her cunthole gaped like a pink mouth. God forgive me, she thought. She couldn’t help it. Her pussy was still hungry and was not to be denied.
Lifting one foot onto the toilet seat, she teased her cunt lips, rubbed a finger up and down in the wet groove of her pussy. No waiting now. She rubbed two fingers on her clit, her hand vibrating back and forth at high speed.
The orgasm came quickly, but it still wasn’t enough. She was still hot and horny, and she knew that if she didn’t satisfy herself she’d be jumpy and irritable when the twins got home. Can’t have that, she thought. In the back of her mind, she knew it was just an excuse to have another blow.
Returning to the bedroom, she quickly stripped her clothes off and knelt on the bed with her ass facing the mirror on the closet door. With her head down she could look between her legs and see her ass and cunt. She reached back with her hand and ran her fingers in the crack of her ass and between her drooping cunt lips.
Her hips began to undulate in anticipation of what would now begin. Her trembling fingers crawled across the taut flatness of her naked belly. Beneath her, the king-size mattress responded to her shifting weight.
You’re a wanton slut, she thought.
A shudder ran through her body as she pushed her fingers inside her cunthole and anus and began frigging herself again. She knew that this time the climax would be intense and enough to satisfy the craving in her pussy. One hand fingering her nipples and pulling at her tits, she fucked the two holes in her crotch with her fingers and moaned at the lovely feeling.
Oh, God, make me come, I can’t stand it!
The finger inside her ass-hole was delicious, and she kept it there as she strummed her clit and cunthole. She felt bad when she frigged herself so much, all afternoon, and at night when the twins were asleep. Sometimes she thought about taking a lover. Someone much younger than Hal, maybe someone college age.
The mere thought of adultery made Arlene cringe. It was something she could never do. Never. Even though her afternoons were often spent in bed, her fingers playing havoc with her throbbing clitoris while she imagined various men pumping their hot sperm into her gaping vagina, the concept of having a real penis stuffed up inside her seemed repulsive. The only cock she had ever had between her legs was her husband Hal’s, the man she loved. And she was determined that his would always be the only one.
It wasn’t Hal, though, who filled her mind at the moment. It was Alex, her 19 year-old son. Determined, she spread her legs Avrupa Yakası Escort wider and writhed, her bare body beginning to perspire slightly as her fingers neared her vagina.
In her fantasy, Alex had come home early for some undefined reason. She was alone in the house, and she had called him into her bedroom. Almost immediately, she had smothered him with a wet, passionate kiss and whispered, “Let’s have some fun!” in his ear. They had rushed to get naked, stripped and now lay side by side on the bed.
Arlene expelled a hot gasp as her finger touched lightly against the sensitive flesh along her clitoris. Her tongue lashed out and made several circles, dampening her lips. She closed her eyes, and whispered sexily, “Ahhh … Alex!”
She worked the middle finger of her right hand into the gaping lips of her pussy. Using the digit as a tiny phallus, she made rhythmic in and out strokes. Her left hand wandered up across her tightly drawn stomach to touch the undersides of her ample breast. She pushed the breast up as far as she could, bowing her head down to it. Catching the hardened nipple between thumb and forefinger, she aimed the bud toward her face. Then, sticking her tongue out as far as she could, she managed to make contact with the tit. She felt a sexual tingle grow within her as she spread her saliva around the throbbing nipple.
Her thighs began to tremble, tightening and untightening as her steadily probing finger drove her to still higher states of arousal.
Her finger — Alex’s finger — became more savage as it seesawed in and out of the now flooded vaginal passage. A very low, throaty moan came from deep within her, growing louder and more intense as she worked herself into a fever of sexual abandon.
The normal Arlene — the shy, inhibited, proper housewife — was nowhere present. Afterwards she would loathe herself for indulging in this delicious hour of sexual gratification. She felt marvelously free, wonderfully whorish. Not too long from now she would be jerking all over the bed climaxing, and later she would hate herself, and tomorrow she would do it again because she couldn’t help it.
She stroked her cunt rapidly with her sex-lubricated finger. Each time she drove it in, her palm slapped against the upper part of her vagina, stimulating her swollen clitoris.
She knew it was time now, time to do those perverse things which excited her so much but made her feel so dirty afterward. She released her grip from the breast she’d been feeding into her mouth, allowing the tit to flop back into its natural position. Rolling onto her side while still finger-fucking her vagina, she reached out and opened the drawer of the nightstand. She probed to the backmost part of the drawer, shoving aside the various paperback books and lip gels. Her fingers found the silk scarf. Wrapped inside were a phallic-shaped battery-powered vibrator and a candle two inches wide and ten inches long. After a short hesitation, she opted for the candle, leaving the tickler hidden in the scarf where sometime soon — perhaps tomorrow — she would use it against her cunt lips and around the sensitive edges of her quivering clitoris.
Between her legs, her hand was making energetic plunges into the sucking well of her vagina. Her legs were spaced so widely that the pressure on the inner portions of her smooth thighs was almost unbearable. But still she kept them painfully stretched because the exertion reflected the intensity of her lust.
She continued to fix her gaze on the flesh-colored candle. She envisioned that it was Alex’s penis, and the very nearness of it to her lips sent her teetering on the edge of sexual hysteria.
Too hot to delay any longer, she brought the candle up to her anxious lips.
Feeling the walls of her vagina clutching madly at her lone finger, she knew that she could bring herself to orgasm without much more effort.
She removed her hand from between her legs, leaving her cunt to suck angrily at the sudden nothingness. But she didn’t leave herself empty for long. Immediately she was on her knees facing the head of the bed.
Slowly she lowered herself. The end of the candle, wet with saliva, brushed against her vulva. She rose up again on her haunches, came down then until the wick tickled her clit, rose up, down, up. More moisture gathered at the entrance to her gooey cunt. But wet as she was, she knew that it would be a delicate process getting the wax shaft inside her vagina. She kept the candle in place with her left hand, her arm bent behind her back, her wrist up under her buttocks. Her right hand came to rest just above her vagina, and with two fingers she tried to spread the opening enough to admit the candle.
She pretended that her son was arching his hips toward her, that he was determined to sink his massive cock into her depths no matter how much discomfort it caused her.
In Bahçelievler Escort response to his imaginary lunges, Arlene lowered herself suddenly, feeling pain as the candle pressed her pussy lips inward, feeling a searing agony as her hot flesh was stretched and folded and several of her pubic hairs were violently uprooted.
She then emitted a series of harsh, breathy gasps as she became accustomed to the feel of the foreign object inside her stretched vulva.
She lowered herself until her buttocks rested on her locked ankles. The candle eased its way deep within her vagina. She deliberately squeezed her vaginal muscles, imprisoning the staff in her moist well. She began to slowly ride up and down on the intruding shaft, gripping the candle tightly with her left hand as she did so.
Her toes clenched so tightly that she felt pain along the top part of her feet. Her heels dug into her buttocks as she sat down upon her crossed ankles, one heel splitting her ass and keeping the cheeks lewdly open. The lower part of the arm which held the candle was imprisoned between her left thigh and calf. The candle filled all of her vagina, spreading the inner walls as far as she thought possible. Her vaginal juices greased the wax surface so that it slid easily as she ground her pelvis downward.
Then she came, howling and shuddering as she did.
Faster and faster she rocked on the candle and flicked at her clitoris with her finger until a second and third spasm rocked her. A fourth and fifth in rapid succession. More, one spasm every second, each seeming more powerful than the last.
“Oh, fuck me, Alex! Fuck it hard!” she moaned.
She kept her legs widely spaced as she ground her cunt into the splatter -soaked bedspread, the candle remaining lodged inside her pulsing channel. She drew her ass tightly inward, forming dimples on the outer sides of the cheeks.
“Ahhhh! There, there!” she cried.
Then the contractions of her vagina began slowly to diminish in intensity, and a minute later she was gasping in the stunned aftermath, satiated and unmoving, whimpering softly.
After her shower, she felt cleansed and absolved of wrongdoing. She was somehow able to drive all thoughts of her recent transgression from her mind. It had to be that way, because if she continued to dwell on her daily masturbation fantasies, she would be unable to function normally. She had to go on living. She was Arlene French, Hal’s wife — Mrs. Albert W. French — and she had a designated role in life. Faithful spouse. Respectable housewife. Dedicated mother.
After dressing modestly in slacks and blouse and pinning her hair behind her neck, she began her housework. She washed the dishes, vacuumed the carpet, planned the dinner for that night.
At midnight, with Alex and Judy sleeping in their respective rooms, Hal had got up suddenly from the sofa beside Arlene. He had staggered to the TV and flicked off the Tonight Show.
“Let’s go to bed!” he announced in a voice that he thought would galvanize Arlene into getting off the sofa.
“All right, darling. You go ahead. I’ll be there in a little while,” she said.
He stood glaring down at her, weaving slightly because he’d been drinking vodka all evening, and she detected a bleary stare in his eyes compatible with his consumption of alcohol.
“Com’on, Arlene. I want us to make love like normal married people! You’re always puttin’ me off!”
She didn’t think she’d been putting him off. In fact, she felt he was the one who had been neglecting her. But using that expression –always — made it impossible to communicate. It was true that she wasn’t in the mood at the moment, but she could tell by his fierce determination that an argument would accomplish nothing.
In the bedroom they stood at opposite sides of the room and stripped. He came over to her then, and yanked her against him. Without even kissing her, he shoved her away from him so that she landed on the bed. He was upon her instantly, staring into her fearful eyes as he forced her legs apart and drove the head of his large erection against the unprepared fringes of her vagina.
“No!” she whispered.
He pushed harder. She was hardly aroused at all, and the forceful jabbing of Hal’s throbbing cock burned against her vulva. He pulled her thighs more widely apart, gripping the fleshy back portions as he shoved himself at her.
“Hal, no … I’m not ready!” she whimpered, but already the head of his organ was inside the lips of her cunt. Tears filled her eyes; under the savage assault she felt defenseless; she tried not to sob, but she couldn’t help it. Hal had never treated her this way.
“Open up, bitch! Fuck up at me!” he shouted.
“Shh! Please don’t shout, they’ll hear us!” she wept. “Please stop, it hurts!”
He paid no attention to her. He shoved his penis all the Bahçeşehir Escort way in. Arlene clenched her teeth to keep from screaming. The almost-dry walls of her vagina rebelled against the brutish intrusion, making her feel abused.
She knew that he was drunk, and she thought she knew why he was acting so cruelly. It was his work, his boss, the investigation.
After the pain subsided, she felt little pleasure. But she spread her legs wide and hunched beneath him, bucking and churning like a crazy whore. He was her husband and she loved him and this was what he expected from her. Three minutes after penetration he spewed his full load of slippery sperm into her cunt. She was just beginning to feel the urges awakening within her, but it was too late to reach an orgasm.
After another two minutes, his breathing came back to normal. He rolled over and immediately fell asleep. Arlene remained awake for another hour trying not to cry, trying to accept that the romance was long gone.
The next day was Saturday. At seven Hal left for his bowling league. A half hour later, Judy came into the living room and sprawled out on the couch to wait for her boy friend. They were going to the movies.
Arlene was walking from the den to the kitchen when she saw what her daughter on the sofa was wearing, she had to make a statement.
“You’re not going to wear that?” she exclaimed, scanning Judy’s skin-tight stretch slacks and abbreviated blouse that left her exposed between her midriff and the top of her hip hugging pants. It was obvious she wasn’t wearing panties under the slacks.
“What’s wrong with this?” Judy countered, not even bothering to look at her mother.
“It’s god-awful!” was all Arlene could say, really talking to herself.
After Judy left, Arlene was alone in the house except for Alex. He was getting ready to leave in about fifteen minutes. She listened to the shower as Alex scrubbed himself.
Alex turned off the faucet and stepped out of the shower. He had told his mother he was going on a double-date with Herbie, but that was a lie. He couldn’t very well tell her the truth, that he was going next door to fuck Sam Carter’s wife, Barbara Carter. Jesus, what a piece of ass! Up until she’d seduced him a year ago, he had only laid one girl and the lone experience hadn’t been very satisfying. But since Barbara and he had been balling — they met an average of twice a week — his sex life had reached explosive proportions. He smiled at himself in the mirror while combing his hair.
He brushed his teeth, and then added a few touches of cologne to his neck and cheeks.
He was ready.
In the living room his mother told him to have a good time. He nodded and left. After walking up the block, he circled and returned down the alley, passing his own back yard, leaping the Carter fence and going to the back door. He went directly in. There was no light inside, and he wondered whether she was home, but then he heard her voice, low and sexy, and felt his way toward the point of its origin.
“Over here, Alex. Don’t turn the lights on …”
When he reached the edge of the couch, he could see her naked body spread out. All of her. Barbara’s nude body was so exciting that it stirred his penis into an instant erection. She was positioned lewdly, one ankle draped over the back of the couch, the other foot planted flat on the deep pile carpet. Her pussy was wide open, the lips puffy, a glistening hint of moisture there. Her nipples were already hard, standing out on her firm white breasts. Her long red hair was scattered about on a throw pillow, and her face looked young, younger even than her actual thirty years …
“Alex, I’ve got to talk about something serious!” Judy said, half panting as she brought her legs tightly together in an effort to stop her brother from petting her for the time being.
“What is it, Sis?” His hand was trapped between the overheated flesh of her thighs. He stopped his movements and waited for her to answer.
“It’s about Mom,” she whispered.
“What about her?” Alex grumbled, somewhat irritated at this sudden and unexpected change of subject.
Judy shifted around, drawing her feet up off the floor and repositioning herself on the bed. Alex’s hand had been forced to leave the area between her thighs, and he now sat cross-legged, looking at his sister in her see-through nightie.
“Don’t you see how unhappy Mom’s been lately?” Judy asked.
“Yeah, I guess so. She locks herself in her room a lot …” Was she reading the Bible?
“That’s only a small part of it. She isn’t getting enough sex, that’s her problem!”
Alex frowned as he pondered this last statement. He never thought about his mother’s sex life. In fact, the concept of his mother in bed fucking gave him a creepy feeling. Yet, here was his sister bringing the subject right into the open as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
She said nothing at all for a while. Alex’s eyes timidly traveled up from her legs where he’d been staring. His glance crossed her jutting breasts and lifted more until he was looking her straight in the eyes. There was a certain electricity passing between them. They had always been able to talk freely about sexual matters.