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Chapter Five: Friday, July 4th, 2003, 6:30 P.M.
Have you ever experienced an out-of-body moment? You know… a time when you were both observer and participant of the same event? Well, that was me when Rachel’s voice jerked my head around. My eyes were immediately drawn to her tummy, expecting to see some visible evidence of my husband’s story. She looked as slim and fit as she always had been as a teenager. Then, I let my eyes drift up to her face and saw it. In fact I remember thinking at the time, “I wonder how I missed her ‘glow’ before now?” It was then that I had the feeling that I was watching myself looking at Rachel. Very weird!
Pregnant women often times have a certain look to their skin. There has been some debate about this phenomenon in the medical field with many doctors discounting it. But I know what I’ve seen, and I’ve seen it quite often. My daughter had it right then, but I hadn’t seen it at 11:00 P.M. the night before.
Neither I or my husband had made a response to Rachel’s confession up to this point, and I guess she took our silence as a reason to continue.
“Mom, Dad… Peter and I are so sorry about how all this came out. Please know that it was planned to happen in a very different way. We don’t blame you if you hate us and never again want to have anything to do with us. We would like to…”
She never got the chance to finish her thought at that moment… I was too quick with my embrace. I crossed the seven feet separating us and hugged her so hard that it was like I was trying to force her body into mine. She let me know that it was a bit too much for her.
“Mom! Too hard. You’re squeezing the life outta me!”
I eased up and brought my hands to either side of her face and looked square into her hazel eyes:
“There is nothing you or Peter could ever do to lose my or your father’s love for the two of you. But, little girl… you are up to you neck in trouble. I am so angry with you that I’d like to put you over my knee and spank you like I had to when you bit James Junior on his finger!”
“I’m not your ‘little girl’ anymore, Mom, but I probably deserve a spanking.”
“Yes you do! And don’t believe for one minute that just because you are almost twenty-five, that automatically makes you an adult. So-called ‘little girls’ are females who go and make really stupid choices – like knowingly getting impregnated by their brother! You want to explain that one, Rachel?”
“Not without Peter next to me, Mom.”
“Where is he?”
“He’s on his way in from the garage. I came in first to kind of ‘smooth the path’ for his entrance.”
Now my husband found his way into this conversation:
“Entrance? Why the need for all this suspenseful drama? Hasn’t the day already been dramatic enough?”
“Mom, perhaps you had better sit back down.”
“Jesus and Mother Mary, Rachel… now what!? Okay, I’m sitting.”
I really wasn’t prepared for what Peter was about to do when his sister/cousin (now wife) called out for him to come into the lounge. No, I mean it… I really wasn’t ready in spite of the fact that by now, dear reader, you have probably already figured it out. Well, jolly good for you! Just remember that you aren’t where I was that day, ok?
My nephew Peter is six feet, three inches tall in his socks. He looks even larger with a two-year-old boy perched in his arms, let me tell you!
Have I told you yet to never, and I mean never, ask what worse thing could happen to you? Let me just say that it sucks to find out that you’ve been a grandmother for over two years. It’s a smack across the face that stings much worse than finding out about the sex lives of your children.
But, let me also say that my husband and I also never saw a more street blowjobs porno handsome young man than the one who was looking at me at that moment.
“Petey, say ‘Hi’ to your grandma and grandpa,” my nephew/son/son-in-law! said to the little boy.
“Hello, gammy. Hello, gampa.”
Peter is a very smart man: never explain your actions when there is a cute two-year-old available. I asked my husband later, and, yes his heart also melted.
Then the little show-stopper had to go and reach out his arms to me. When his father placed Petey on my lap, I began to cry the sweetest tears of joy any woman ever let flow. That’s when I looked up at my children and said:
“You’re both still up to your necks in trouble! We need to talk.”
“Peter,” began my daughter, “you brought in the portable crib and the rest of Petey stuff, right?”
“Sure, hon. It’s in the kitchen.”
“Mom, Petey had a pretty busy night and day over at the home of one of my sorority sisters. She has two under five and was glad to watch him. If it’s okay with you, we’ll take Petey upstairs and get him fed and settled in for the night in my old room.”
“While you and Peter are up there, you can clean up your father’s and my bedroom. Don’t come back down until you do,” I curtly responded.
“Um, Mom,” Peter began, “we already got the bedding stripped and we sprayed the mattress with some old pet stain remover we found in the upstairs utility closet.”
“Did you open the widows? Cause I could smell the you-know-what all day. Still can, to some degree…” James said from his shocked, awed and seated position.
“No, Pop. But I’ll get to it asap! Sorry… didn’t think of that.”
It took the better part of fifteen minutes for the two of them to get back down to the lounge. By then, it was time for Peter to go to the Amtrak Station over on Depot Street to pickup his younger brother and sister who were coming in from Chicago. (The twins told me later that they got used to train travel in Europe. I thought to myself how much taking American passenger trains might ‘cure’ someone of that habit.)
Before Peter left, it was agreed that Rachel would go ahead and fill us in on how their lives had gotten to the place where they had one child and another on the way. Believe me when I tell you that James was not the only one eying the liquor cabinet at that point!
Chapter Six: Friday, July 4th, 2003, 6:30 P.M.
So, Rachel escorted her husband to the kitchen entrance. James and I heard them exchange saliva and we both rolled our eyes in… what? a combination of disgust and exasperation, maybe? I don’t know… that part is a bit hazy. But, it really doesn’t matter, either.
The salient points are that she kissed him and then came back into the lounge. What she said next made James and I blush…
“Uh, it still smells kind of ripe in here, Mom. I see what Dad meant. Let me go get some air freshener and I’ll…”
“That’s us, dear, not you,” I said. “Get the can of Glade if you want, but this room is not you guys.”
Rachel looked at her parents like we must have looked at her about thirty minutes earlier.
“Eww, Mom! That is so TMI, but kinda kinky, too! Yet, do I really need the mental image of my parents shagging?”
“Try the actual image of your children doing it, Rachel,” James replied.
That stopped her in her tracks. She turned to her father and said:
“I’m sorry, Dad. You’re right. Peter and I haven’t done you any favors today, have we?”
“Yes you have, Rachel. You’ve given me a beautiful grandson and the knowledge of yet another grandchild on the way. Those are very big favors, young woman!”
“You know that I was talking about this student sex parties porno morning, Pop. I’m so embarrassed that you saw me naked.”
“And having sex,” I added. “That’s a double whammy!”
“Plus the added bonus of just who it was that you were having sex with,” my husband continued.
Rachel nodded her head and then went after the can of air freshener. My husband took that as an opportunity to whisper:
“Why did you ‘cop’ to our copulation, Patty?”
“That’s funny! So funny that I forgot to laugh! I’m not sure, James. Maybe just to remind her that they aren’t the only ones who know how to make love in this house.”
“Oh,” James replied, “is that what we were doing when you were calling me ‘Daddy’ and I was calling you ‘Rachel’?”
Kids always seem to pick the worst times to walk in on their parents’ conversations. My daughter is no exception.
“What was that, Dad? Tell me that I didn’t just hear you say that Mom was pretending to be me when the two of you were screwing in here earlier?”
Now it was our turn to be embarrassed. Damn! James and I were supposed to be the ones with the moral advantage. Rachel, however, was one person who understood the adage ‘knowledge is power’. At this point in the story, she began to leverage that power like a pro.
“Show me,” she calmly said.
“What?!” I heard my husband say.
“You heard me, Pop. Show me how you fucked Mom pretending to be me. Show me, or I’ll call Peter and have him come back and collect Petey and me. He was going to be gone for at least an hour, Dad. Come on, Mom… are you telling me that you no longer like to have sex in front of other people?”
“How do you know about that, Rachel,” I gasped.
“Aunt Abigail wrote Peter a letter for him to open when he turned sixteen. She let fly all our family’s dirty little secrets, Mother. Really, you two are the ones who should be spanked. But, we still have time for that… later on, when the rest of our family gets here. For now, however, I want to see how my parents get it on. Strip or we’re all gone… and none of us will ever come back!”
It wasn’t until that precise moment that I fully understood the old saying, ‘The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree’. Then again, perhaps I shouldn’t have been too surprised… after all, my husband did say something about the ‘sins of the father’. I guess the same applies to mothers, too.
I looked at James and he at me. We both nodded our heads and began to shed our clothes. Rachel, on the other hand, sat down on the settee that was against the far wall to the left of the fireplace. She just watched.
I saw her smile as my skirt fell to the floor and my panty-less and hairless pussy came into view. She seemed equally impressed with my 38C rack when my bra fell away. I’ve always thought that my tits are one of my best features: very little sag and my nips are almost an inch long when I’m really excited… like I was at that moment.
James, on the other hand, really impressed our daughter with his cock. Rachel came over to him and looked down at it and actually reached out and grasped it… much to our mutual shock!
“Wow, Dad! Your cock looks almost the same as Peter’s, except his glans is a bit bigger. And… you have the exact same bumps on the top just like him!” she squealed.
“Rachel, honey,” I said as nicely as I possibly could, “please let go of my husband’s prick, or I’ll break your hand.”
“Chill out, Mother dearest! This cock is going to be fucking me before too long, so what’s a bit of a hand job now?”
With that, she let go of her father’s ‘johnson’ and began to quickly take off her own clothing. Now I could see what my husband caught a submissive cuckolds porno glimpse of earlier that day. She was beautiful… much more-so than I was at her age, that’s for certain.
Rachel’s boobs are at least two cup-sizes larger than my own, and her nipples bore the unmistakable signs of childbirth: larger areolae and darker, too. Like me, her pussy was meaty and hairless. At that moment, it also was dripping with desire. All-in-all, she was quite the little package built for sex. Like I said, the apple doesn’t fall far…
The lust in her eyes was infectious – to me at least, but I believe also for James. Rachel licked her lips and reached into one of the rear pockets of her jeans that she had draped over the back of the settee and pulled out her cellphone. I thought she was about to snap a picture or maybe take a video of her father and I fucking. But, she didn’t…
“Peter, honey? Yeah, it’s me. Okay, just get back here as soon as they arrive. I’m about to fuck Mom and Dad, and I don’t want Mom to have to wait too long for your cock, sweetheart. Yes, they’re both naked and so am I. You want me to leave the connection open for you? You could put it on speaker-phone and let the rest of Ann Arbor hear.” (To me, she mouthed, “Just kidding, Mom!”)
I hoped she was, because both her father and I were about to have matching heart attacks! In the end, she said her ‘goodbyes’ and closed the clamshell. Then she tossed the phone onto the settee and came over to me.
She took my hand and led me over to the matching settee on the other side of the fireplace where she had me sit down. Rachel motioned for her father to come over and sit on the floor next to me. Then Rachel opened my legs and began to attack my labia!
It was clear from the first moments that my older daughter had done this before. Her technique for cunnilingus was amazing: first she dragged her short fingernails from both hands over my entire crotch; then she took those same fingers and separated my drenched folds; then her mouth and tongue seemed to be everywhere on and in my cunt at once!
Rachel has a longer than average tongue, and she knows how to please another woman with it. She batted at my clit with rapid strokes; she stiffened her tongue and fucked me with it; she added her fingers and even drove one of them into my asshole! (She told me two days later that she hoped her second child was a girl so that when she turned eighteen, she could teach her how to eat pussy!)
Rachel went at me for over thirty minutes! I only know this because my husband was watching the clock. At first, Jim said he was stroking his dick and rubbing Rachel’s back. About fifteen minutes into her assault, he tried to put a finger or two into Rachel’s pussy. I distinctly heard her say:
“No, Dad! Fuck me with that beautiful prick of yours! Mom, your husband is going to fuck your daughter now and bust his nut deep inside her. Then I’m going to climb up onto you and plant my cum-leaking cunt over your hungry mouth so you can suck out all that sperm. Then, you have to share it with Dad before you both swallow! Do you understand?”
“Yes!” I screamed out. Jim also complied.
“Dad, get to it, now!
I opened my eyes just in time to see Jim mount Rachel and thrust his knobby cock deep into her core.
“Ugh…” Rachel grunted. “Dad! I can feel every one of those bumps! Don’t stop fucking me!”
He didn’t pause or slow down for the rest of Rachel’s time glued to my pussy. And when he came in her, I could feel her orgasm and mine happen at the same time. True to her word, Rachel quickly jumped off her father’s dick and onto my chest where she planted her vagina onto my mouth.
I sucked on my daughter’s sweet crease for another twenty minutes (swallowing most of her tangy discharge, I confess); long enough for Peter to return with the twins and Rachel to experience many orgasms.
When I heard the front door open, I remember thinking to myself:
“O man… now what?”
That ‘what’ turned out to be both worse than I could have imagined… and better!
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