Straight Shooter

"So, why me?" I asked. Mom stroked my arm as we talked and my balls fairly buzzed.

"Because of the risk," said dad.

"Because you're so sexy," said mom. They looked knowingly at each other.

"There's been some debate..." said dad, "over the relative salience of those points."

"You see, Grant," said mom in a low, conspiratorial whisper, "there's really no other candidate in this fishbowl of a county. You're without a girlfriend, so no conflict there. And you're so much like your dad that I think it would be much less awkward."

"Awkward?" I puzzled over that.

"Strangers have so many unfamiliar, um, qualities to adjust for, assumptions to trip over," she said, "With you we're just a hairsbreadth from having sex anyway."

I must have looked as surprised as I felt.

"Son," said dad, "besides the fact that you already know something about our love lives, I mean, we let you watch that time...and surely you've been fantasizing about your mother like any healthy boy. Or at least any healthy boy with a mother like yours." He smiled at her again and squeezed her hand, obviously proud of her. "Besides that we just can't risk finding someone regular anywhere in this state. Can't join a sex club or even hire a stud. Brown and Son's reputation could be shot."

"I'm convenient, then?" Sometimes my parent's pragmatism seemed a little cold. But they sure had the confidence to make their own rules and that was breathtaking. Wait a minute...regular?

Mom ran her hand up my arm again and looked lustfully in my eyes, "I love you, Grant. So it's more than convenient. It's my heart's desire as well as my body's. I want to give myself to you." That lustful look reached right into my pants and squeezed my cock full of blood.

"You've heard the saying; If you can't keep it in your pants, keep it in the family?" laughed dad, looking teasingly at mom.

"You hush," she laughed back, "This is a big day for the boy, Bob."

The kitchen went quiet. What could go wrong? I cleared my throat.

"Dad, you're really sure about this?"

"Let me be clear," he said, "The usual rules apply. I'm the alpha in this family. You're not challenging me - she's mine. I'm willing to share. And we'll teach you some things you probably don't already know."

"What's in it for you?" I knew dad would respect my asking this most basic of negotiation questions.

"Pleasure. The pride of knowing it makes your mom happy. To be a good parent."

"Be a good parent?" I asked, shifting in my seat to uncramp my erection. Mom smiled slyly at me.

"Well," dad stated, "you'll learn and you'll begin to understand more about sex with someone you love, not a recreational partner. I think it'll help you find a woman like your mom to stick with."

"I've got to ask," I said, cautiously, "You're sharing mom, but she doesn't have to share you with another woman?" They looked at each other as if to say, We knew this would come up.

Dad began, "There are two builders conventions a year..." and mom continued, "when your dad's away he gets a hall pass. I don't want him to feel like he's missing anything, either." She looked proud of herself as she patted him on the arm. "Now, I won't have to be curious."

Would all that be enough to sell you on the idea? Why hadn't dad told me about his liaisons while we were at the conventions? Another private matter, I guess. Up to now. It felt as if they really were treating me like a grown up.

I stood up and cleared the table, like I usually did. Mom got up to wash them and dad to dry, a little ritual of theirs.

"You give it some thought while we do the dishes," said dad. "If you want, we'll all adjourn to the bedroom after..." Mom giggled when he squeezed her butt. Damn, he was confident.

I did give it some thought. About three seconds worth of thought. It would be fair to expect me to be nervous even though I was experienced in the bedroom. It was a kind of first date, a very weird first date. Now I paced around the living room, listening to them murmuring over the dish clatter. I tried to imagine the first move. Yes, I'd fantasized about making love to my mother, but the action usually began with us naked and aroused. Like, she'd join me in the shower or in the spa, not the kitchen. And since their bedroom was off-limits I'd never imagined us in there, just in my bed or even in the truck once, not in dad's territory.

Was this kinda like a contract negotiation where we'd all shake hands and I'd say, Thank you, I'm looking forward to a very successful project, Mr. and Mrs. Brown. The crew will start on Monday? Nope.

I had to piss. In the bathroom with my cock in my hand, stream ringing in the bowl, I thought about this handful of fleshy organ about to be shared with some very special people. Would mom be as impressed as some of my girlfriends? Would it be weird to wave it around in front of dad? I noticed it with fresh eyes, saw the twisted veins, the wrinkled foreskin, the weight of it, how purple and thick it was.

Dad said to me once, being an only child like me, maybe you'll have the same experience. My cock's my oldest and best friend in the world. We've done everything together. He's had some crazy ideas and got me into trouble, too. But I learned self-discipline because of him. He's been there for me.

Looking at the heavy cock in my hand I found confidence there. It was a good, reliable tool. And I knew how to work it. My bladder drained, I stuffed it away, squared my shoulders and tried to steady my breath.

I was relieved of a bit of my anxiety on my return to the living room when dad said, matter-of-factly, "Your mother's gone to 'powder her nose'. She expects us in the bedroom in about ten. If you're good with this?"

"Jeez, dad," I exhaled heavily, "How's this supposed to go? Do we just strip and, and, uh, make love...or what?" I looked at him and saw his bemused and confident crooked grin. He wasn't nervous at all. They knew I'd agree.

"Your mom likes some romance to warm her up, you know. Even when she's got a case of fire-crotch I've got to proceed with a certain romantic sensitivity first. Maybe not tonight, hot as she's been about this. Any of your girlfriends been that way?"

"Well, Leisl was partial to long makeout sessions in places where we might get caught, if that's what you mean."

"She's the one who went commando a lot? See, every one of 'em's different," he pursed his lips, "Your mom wants soft music in a safe place with candles and smells. Always puts essential oils in the bath, things like that."

"I see," was all I could manage to say with the image of mom rising up dripping from a candle-lit sudsy bath, playful eyes a-twinkle.

"She likes to be undressed," he raised an eyebrow. "I think you'll like what she has in mind for you."

Now my anxiety shaded over into unbridled horniness. The image of my hands fumbling at the buttons on her blouse rose up. I imagined peeling apart the fabric and revealing the freckled swell of her breasts, burying my face in there.

"Your mom enjoys belonging to an alpha...likes being obedient," He gave a satisfied grin, "You'll be impressed by how much, I think."

Just then mom called from down their hallway. She was ready. I'd not been in their bedroom in quite a few years. They'd drawn a boundary back when I was twelve or so and I'd respected it as a law of the house. I figured it had to do with control of their privacy. Lounging around the house in post-coital dishabille was one thing, being caught in the act, or worrying about being caught in the act was another. So when dad and I crossed that threshold I entered a new world in more ways than one.

I did a quick inventory in the dim light of the dozen or so candles placed around the room. I smelled incense, like an Indian grocery store, a whiff of shower steam, heard low guitar chords, noted a high ceiling, polished heart pine floors, a gas log radiating heat, massage oil bottles on the mantle, a king sized bed with a maplewood bench along its foot end, two low bedside tables with books piled up, deep red curtains matching the bedspread, doors to the closet and the bath on the far wall, a plush armchair, a row of riding boots, a saddle on a rack over in a shadowy corner.

I took all that in instantly and subsumed it under the vision of my mother standing at the foot of the bed. The deep orange flickering light turned her into a goddess. She stood confidently, chin up and smiling, in a cloud of some soft and filmy fabric that teased her shape. The firelight silhouetted her and shone through the diaphanous gown, limning her curves. When she turned around, playfully giving me a three-sixty view, her body was nearly visible, the outlines shifting as her breasts came into profile, when her lean butt swiveled. Firelight through her thigh gap was a thrilling revelation. I could just make out some dangly lips there. God, I liked fat, juicy labia like one girlfriend, Jordan, had. Something you could sink your teeth into.

"Earth to Grant," my mother chuckled, "Breathe, son, breathe."

Dad clapped me on the back, "I'm not trained in CPR, you know." He clapped me on the back again and said, which I took as a command, "You can watch for a bit if you like." He stepped over to mom in his stocking feet and took her in his arms, bending down to press his mouth to hers, pulling her to her tiptoes. This went on for a while as mom made encouraging, throaty sounds. It felt strange suddenly to just be standing there, hands in my pockets. So I sat in the armchair where I could see them lit well as dad reached around and began untying the strings on her gown. Mom groped his khakis, his rod swollen there like mine was. Her eyes were on my crotch while dad nuzzled her neck. They said, you like it? You're gonna get it.

The gown fell away. Dad put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to me, him behind her, the firelight turning her pink all over. Now her yellow hair was all loose and she smiled at me, chest rising with deep breaths, wearing just a wisp of a bra and panties. Mostly gauze, barely shielding her areola or her trim patch of pubes, they framed her beautifully. Dad brought a hand around and hefted a breast, squeezed it gently, and mom sighed. She cocked her hips and reached up to tousle his hair, smiled at me and looked pointedly at my crotch again. As she was bared to me for the first time I tented fiercely, making a sticky spot in my shorts. I gripped the chair arms hard. I couldn't quite bring myself to touch myself, to pull my hard cock out for her eyes. Not yet.

My father undid the clasp on her bra and tossed it aside. There were the tits I'd suckled and dreamed about. Was there a vestigial memory of having those nipples between my gums, drawing their sweet milk? I felt like I knew what they'd feel like, standing tall and hard, pulling her breasts tight. Dad ran a palm over one and mom's legs buckled. He got an arm around her waist and held her there while he bit her neck. She closed her eyes and whimpered. The room felt blisteringly hot.

Dad held my mother up and pulled at her panties. She helped him drag them down, impatiently. Mom kicked them off and there was her delta uncovered, the dark triangle and moist, musky bits that made my mouth water. She hung loosely, moved her feet apart so dad could slide his hand across her mons and palm her sex. Was he dipping a finger in? I would have. I would have checked for that oily, pungent eagerness. One of my girlfriends liked me to give her a fingerful of her own juices and suck my finger, hard.

I was frozen to the armchair, in the excruciating crux between tearing my clothes off to join them and that sharp taboo line that they were inviting me to cross. I wasn't quite there. I squirmed, though. I felt my knob pressing against my shorts, the throbs bringing forth wetness. I wanted her to drop to her knees and reach for my zipper, to follow her eyes and bring her mouth to my cock, to peel apart my khakis and open wide.

But dad had her bound in his strong arms as he rubbed her patch. Mom looked at me with a kind of abandon, a far away look that I'd never seen, the animal in her fully present. It wasn't my mother anymore. It was lust itself, Aphrodite; her body became a channel of the goddess spirit, of the urge to merge, to put it crudely. She pulled herself from dad's arms and went to her knees. Yes! She came toward me, eyes on my crotch. I spread my legs and she crawled between them. This wasn't my mother, this was some love-drunk pixie with blue eyes and carmine nipples, oozing labia and a hungry determination to mate. She reached for my zipper like I'd hoped. I looked up at dad, still unsure. He gave me a thumbs up then stripped his belt and unbuttoned his pants.

My eyes were then glued to the woman unbuttoning mine - focused, efficient, eager. She quickly jerked my pants and boxers down together and then stared, smiling at my arching organ. "Baby, there you are...I've been dreaming of you..." One delicate hand wrapped around my shaft and she studied it. The heat of her grasp made me pulse. I dripped. She caught the glycerine drop with a finger and brought it to her tongue. The goddess smiled and closed her eyes, savoring me. She was a naked worshiper, heavy breasts hanging, nipples pert, submissive, waiting.

Behind her dad stood, naked now, and folded his belt in half. He swung it sharply across her ass. Her yelp was smothered by the crack of the leather.

"Are you OK?" I blurted.

"Ohhh, yesss," her eyes had an otherworldly passion in them.

"Do you like it?"

Dad swung again and she winced, but the fire in her eyes grew. The goddess moaned and pulled my cock toward her mouth.

Dad said, "Grant, stand up!" Without a thought, I did, kicking off my pants and pushing the woman back on her haunches, looking disappointed.

"We should be on equal footing for this," he said, "Take us both, Amy."

I felt the heat of the fire on one side and the heat of my father's naked body on the other.

The woman giggled, "Take off that shirt, Grant. This isn't company business." Set back on her heels at our feet she was demure, voluptuous, earthy, with a sparkle of anticipation in her eyes. She took a cock in each hand. "My boys...my toys...mmm, which to taste first, hmmm?"

Here's where I felt weird, inches from dad and our dicks in her hands. I wasn't sure what to do with my own hands. Put them on my hips, over my head? Could I grab her by the hair like dad did in the spa? And I couldn't help but compare penises. Mine was a tad longer? His a tad thicker? There was clearly a family resemblance in color and curve. Our cocks, our best friends, were like half-brothers maybe.

"Shouldn't we have taken a shower?" I asked, suddenly conscious of my day's worth of sweat.

Dad wrapped a hand around my shoulder and said, "She likes it gamey, son. It's better if it's got real flavor."

Then she brought her mouth to my knob and smiled up at me, saying, "Makes my mouth water. It's been years since I've seen this guy except in a wet swimsuit. He's all I hoped he'd be." She opened wide and pulled me between her lips, closing her eyes. The wet heat seared my knob. I felt it on my corona like a ring of fire - my nerves ablaze with her tongue worming around, digging in my foreskin.

Dad reached down and put his hand on the back of her head, moved his other hand to the small of my back and pressed us together, moving me in and out. "Don't be shy, Grant," he offered, "she wants you to fuck her mouth. Really she does. Right, honey?"

"Mmmm, hmmm," she murmured and my whole body vibrated.

"Put your hand here," dad directed, moving his palm from her head, "Pull and push...you know how, I'm sure." I gently placed my hand there and looked in her eyes for approval. She nodded and smiled around my cock. I felt it in my toes. We held our gaze while I began pressing my hips forward and pulling her mouth onto my organ. She drooled down onto her thighs. Sweating from the fire and the arousal both, I imagined the spit sizzling there. My heart raced, looking down at this petite, lean, wanton woman inviting me to work my cock into her throat and urging me on with a look. Of all the the things my mother'd told me to do in my life...

"Is your ass ready, Amy?" Dad moved behind her and grasped her by the waist, pulling her up to her knees. She walked her knees far apart and he knelt down, smearing his cock with lubricant. I stopped trying to find her tonsils with my dick and watched him press his cock down between her pink cheeks. Dad leaned in and ever so slowly opened her up. Her eyes got big and rolled back as he went gradually deeper.

"Relax it, Amy," he commanded. She grunted deep in her throat and my balls jumped. I held her head tight. She gurgled as dad kept on pushing. A tear squeezed from the corner of her eye.

"You OK?" I asked. Again she nodded with that look of abandon. I think she said love you but it only served to massage my shaft deliciously. She didn't try to back off of either one of us, just breathed hard and groaned. I felt her quiver suddenly. Her arms shook and dad held her tight by the hip bones, bouncing her lightly on his pole.

"She's catching a wave, Grant," my father said, smiling broadly as she convulsed between us, "first of the night."

For a long minute we held her there between us as she shook, until she went limp, breathing hard. I pulled my organ from her mouth and the spit hung in bubbly garlands, dripping from her chin onto her breasts. Dad wrapped both arms around her, still deep inside, and pulled her up against his chest. She hugged her breasts. Through half-lidded eyes she watched me standing there, holding my wet cock. My father stood and picked her up, impaled on his spike, her legs splayed and dangling. He turned and sat on the wood bench at the end of the bed, lying back with her body draped over his, their feet toward the fire.

The warm orange glow illuminated her pulpy gash, the red flesh of her aroused sex shining. They both looked at me as dad kneed her legs apart. His heavy balls hung down. His thick, purple tool disappeared in her ass, the warm lubricant running down to the seat.

"Grant, honey, I want you to put that handsome cock in me now," she whispered, with a look of desperation. Dad grasped one breast and fondled. She arched her head back and they kissed. I watched and stood on a threshold that couldn't be recrossed. If I put it in I was all-in. Well, I thought, Robert Brown and Son are all about in-house, hands-on. We do the highest level of professional work. Why shouldn't that apply in the bedroom as well? Customer satisfaction is the bedrock of our success and that comes from committing 100 percent to each project.

I moved forward slowly, running my hands up her wet thighs. Her body glistened with beads of perspiration, her belly fluttered, her hands reached pleadingly for me.

"I love the scrape of those callouses," she whispered and ran her hands over my shoulders.

I put one hand on the bed beside them and the other on her breast. Heavy and warm in my rough palm, I hefted it, felt the silky swell of it. She whimpered. I lifted and pinched her nipple to my lips and gripped it between them, my tongue caressing. I felt a hand on my slippery cock, holding me back.

"Eat her first, Grant," dad grunted.

I couldn't do otherwise, could I? Kneeling between their legs I considered: one, that pussy smells so good and I bet it tastes even better. I'd like to make her scream with my tongue. Two, I'll be licking inches from his pulsing cock - is this some kind of dominance play? I chose to concentrate on item one, giving that pussy a thorough workover our first time; I wanted to make her happy, make her proud of me, make them both proud.