Mom’s Mountain Cabin Ch. 01

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I recently met a strikingly attractive woman somewhere in her mid to late forties. Unlike some other beautiful women her age I’ve known, she did not dress or style herself to look younger than she was; she seemed perfectly comfortable with her age. She was also smart, confident, funny, earthy and although it was a business meeting and her behavior entirely appropriate, still managed to flirt with a roomful of guys while leaving no doubt that she was completely devoted to her husband, who I imagined she fucked into sweet oblivion seven days a week. I decided to write a story around her character, albeit with my recurrent theme of incest.

Chapter 2 of this story has been drafted and is being edited. It should arrive relatively soon.

As always, all characters engaged in sexual activities are eighteen years of age or older.

* * * *

We pulled up to what Mom had called her mountain cabin. Not often, but sometimes, Mom had a gift for understatement.

“Wow,” was the best I could come up with.

“This place is amazing,” said Scarlett.

Scarlett, my girlfriend, had just finished her third year of college, I my second. Mom had invited us to spend a long week end at the new digs.

I’d removed the bicycles and was pulling two bags from the trunk when I heard Mom’s throaty voice. “You must be Scarlett, its so good to meet you.”

I turned, a bag in each hand. Mom was wearing sunglasses, a wet white tee-shirt that clung to her body, revealing a bikini top underneath, and a tiny bikini bottom.

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Waliss.”

“It’s Joni.”

Scarlett stuck out her hand; Mom enveloped it with both hers and kissed Scarlett’s cheek.

“You’ll have to excuse me, I was in the hot tub.”

She turned to me, an eyebrow went up, and in a half-happy, half-scolding voice said, “No hug for your Mama?”

I settled into her arms, her massive breasts pressed to my chest. Her recently deceased husband had deemed them large enough, but with a bit of a sag; their Carribean honeymoon had included a brief visit to a surgeon for some firming up.

Yeah, she told me that. She told me everything.

She kissed my cheek, said, “I’ve missed my beautiful young man,” and reached down to pick up the heaviest bag, showing off the well-defined muscles of her arm. “Let me show you your room.”

I picked up the other bag.

We walked onto a spacious desk, past a hot tub. The front of the house was composed almost entirely of glass. The view of the mountains and lake below must be stunning.

Scarlett said, “Thank you for inviting us. Your house is magnificent.”

“Part of the deal with Billy. It wasn’t until the fifth one that I figured out the problem with husbands. You marry them looking for love and fun, but the young ones can’t keep their dicks in their pants and the old ones can’t keep theirs up. So with Billy I made a straight-forward deal. I’d take care of him, show him a good time, and honey I certainly did that, and I got this and a tidy pile of cash.”

Billy, twenty years older than Mom, owned the real estate company at which she worked. Although he was based in New York and she in Atlanta, they’d been occasional lovers. When he learned he was dying they made an arrangement; they’d marry, travel, she’d take care of him and, I’m sure, fuck him til he couldn’t move. During the last painful months of his life she’d minister to him; she’d been a nurse before she decided there was more money in real estate. In return she got this house and a significant inheritance.

I was, of course, appalled when she told me, but I spent time with them during their two year marriage and had to concede it worked. They were happy and Billy, I suspected and in his own way, came to love my mother. And, although I wouldn’t call it romantic love, Mom clearly had a deep respect and genuine affection for Billy.

“My lawyer told me, as his wife, I could have reneged on the deal and taken the estate for a lot more, but I figured this house and a healthy bank account would do me just fine. I’m even thinking about getting out of the husband business for awhile.”

I didn’t bite; I knew better. Scarlett didn’t.

“And what business would you be getting into?”

“Well honey, if you’re a good little girl I might just show you.”

We followed Mom up a short flight of stairs and turned into a large bedroom overlooking the deck. Mom tossed the bag on the bed and said, “Take a few minutes to freshen up, get comfortable. I’ll mix the margaritas.”

Mom made a mean margarita: top quality alcohol and fresh ingredients, no mixes for her.

She left; Scarlett stared after her, then turned to me.

“That’s your Mom?”


“You told me she was out there, but I had no idea.”

“She’s hard to describe.”

“I’d say.”

* * * *

Scarlett emerged from the bathroom, she had freshened up and combed out her hair – naturally a light brown, she highlighted it blonde and let it hang to the middle of her back – and put on a light blue peasant dress while watching Mom on the avcılar elit escort deck.

“She’s gorgeous.”

That Mom was. She’d spent a lifetime honing her looks, paying relentless attention to her body, skin, and hair. She ate right, slept the right amount, stayed out of the sun. She kept her dirty blonde hair (although, for the first time, I’d noticed some silver strands) shoulder length and layered, had a narrow face featuring big emerald eyes and a wide mouth (I’d heard way too many cracks growing up about the potential uses of that mouth), and a deep husky laugh. Endless hours in the gym resulted in a muscled build that radiated health and strength. She was not skinny; she had a curvy figure with a few more pounds on her butt than ideal, but what was most striking about Mom was that she looked 45, a beautiful 45, but 45. I’d met a lot of women in their late thirties or forties trying to look like they were still in their twenties; Mom aged, she just aged well. She made no pretense about being younger than she was and had a certain command, a maturity that underlined the fact that she was a generation ahead of you.

“So what kind was your Dad, couldn’t keep his dick in his pants or couldn’t keep it up?’

“Definitely dick in his pants, still can’t. He was her first. He’s ten years older then she is, but every time I see him he has a new girlfriend, always pretty and always much younger, and they make a lot of noise at night.”

Scarlett turned to me and, hazel eyes flashing, said, “When I meet him I’ll bring a whip, unless he likes that kind of thing. Your Mom shaves her pussy. Whatta ya think? Should I shave mine?”

I could have done without that detail – but as I pictured Mom’s tiny bikini bottom in my mind I realized Scarlett was right – and, thinking of Scarlett’s thick wild bush of brown pubic hair, said, “No, I like yours just fine.”

Scarlett took a step forward, said, “God, I’m horny,” and ran her hand the length of my erection. We shared a nice long kiss.

So was I, but Mom was working on the margaritas. I shrugged, said, “Duty calls,” and put on some loose shorts, better to hide the woodie.

* * * *

Outside we sat under an umbrella, sipped our drinks, laughed, talked. Mom was at her raucous best and as I she and Scarlett chatted like long-time friends. When Mom’s cell phone buzzed two hours later to remind her of an appointment, I would have sworn we’d been sitting there for thirty minutes. Mom went inside to shower and change.

* * * *

Scarlett was in the kitchen when Mom, wearing a mid-calf length pencil skirt, black shirt with sleeves rolled up and several buttons undone, and three inch heels, walked onto the deck. The look was professional, but it still directed your attention to her curvy body, ample chest, pear shaped backside.

She kissed me on the cheek. “I like your girlfriend, much better then what’s her name.”


“Yeah Diane.”

Scarlett came out of the house to say good-bye. Mom pecked her on the lips.

“I’ll see you kids in a couple of hours.”

We watched her drive off. Scarlett said, “Let’s fuck.”

* * * *

Scarlett and I were cuddled together, sheet pulled over us, drifting in that wonderful semi-conscious, semi-awake, semi-asleep place you go after great sex, when a voice pierced the haze.

“I guess when I say two hours, I should mean two hours.”

Mom was standing in the door.

While I tried to think of something to say, Scarlett, her voice slurred with the aftermath of sex, said, “Hey Ms. Wallis.”

“Its Joni.”

“Yeah sorry, hey Joni.” Scarlett looked at the clock by the bed and, smiling, said, “You did say two hours.”

“As I said, my fault. You kids look famished. Glass of water?”

“Thanks, that would be great.”

Mom returned with a pitcher of water, bowl of lemon slices, and three glasses full of ice, sat on the edge of bed, and commenced she and Scarlett chatted. Like I, Scarlett was post-coital, naked, and covered by only a thin sheet.

Only I seemed to think this a bit freaky.

Scarlett had earlier mentioned she loved to go out dancing and while out Mom had learned that a band was playing that night at a nearby ski village. We went, we were disappointed; the crowd was listless and the band desultory, sleep-walking its way though its single set. On the way home Mom suggested that tomorrow night we go to Nitro for some real fun. Newly opened, Nitro was up-scale and, for the moment, the local hot nightclub. When Scarlett said she had nothing to wear, Mom’s eyes lit up.

“Oh honey, we’re going shopping. On me.”

Scarlett protested but Mom was on a roll and before we got home Mom had the following day planned, at least the day for she and Scarlett. Happily, I now had an excuse for a long mountain bike ride.

* * * *

They got home late the following afternoon toting several bags and with a serious case of the giggles.

“What did you get?”

“You’ll see.”

* * * *

Sitting on the couch, avcılar escort wearing a blue shirt and slacks, I was a bit annoyed. Scarlett and Mom had been getting ready in Mom’s bedroom for so long that, let’s just say I could have made a good start on War and Peace. Finally they emerged to Mom’s, “Ta da.”

Oh fricking gawd.

My girlfriend was wearing leather pants, leather bra, stiletto pumps.

Mom was in a short tight black dress, showing a wide expanse of cleavage, and high Sabo heels. She might be 45, but she could still pull it off.

Scarlett said, “Whatta ya think?”

“Oh fricking gawd.”

* * * *

I danced mostly with Scarlett, some with Mom. Mom never reached the end of the line of guys wanting to dance with her. She scolded a few for wandering hands, was given enough telephone numbers to start a directory, and turned down several score invitations to go home with a stranger half her age. My trips to the bathroom were bonding experiences, every guy wanting to know how I’d scored two such hot chicks.

“Clean living.”

We got home around 2:00 A.M., but were still wound up. Mom and Scarlett suggested the hot tub and, not waiting for an answer, headed to Mom’s bedroom to change.

Well, okay, it seemed like a good idea.

In the hot tub, after the usual extended wait, I was joined by the ladies in minimal bikinis and toting a bottle of champagne. They immediately started chatting about the evening, the club, the guys, the girls, the clothes. I leaned back, half listening, mostly thinking about my girlfriend’s hand: she was fondling my dick though my shorts. It was the middle of the night, no one could see, and I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy the kink of being played with in my mother’s presence.

Scarlett worked her hand inside my shorts, pushed them down my thighs, freed my cock, fisted it. While waiting, futilely, for a lull in the conversation so I could plead exhaustion and suggest Scarlett and I hit the sack, Scarlett took hold of my hand, drew it inside her bikini bottoms. It took me a second to get it, but Scarlett, who’d always been au naturel, was now completely bald.

Scarlett saw the recognition dawn on my face and ducked her head to mine, whispering in my ear, “You like? Your Mom convinced me to wax while we were shopping.”

Her grip on my penis tightened, her hand slid down my cock, squeezed my balls, moved back up to encircle the shaft.

I nodded yes.

She sat back up and said, “Good. Now babe, when out shopping today your Mom and I made an important decision. We figured, in light of how generous she’s bee to me, it’s only fair if I share my good fortune with her. That is if you approve Joni?”

“Well, he’s as long as his father and I suspect a tad thicker. If he’s as good as you say, we have a deal.”

Shit, was it my mother fisting my dick? Before I could reach down to find out, the hand disappeared and Scarlett turned to me.

“Now I know what you’re thinking, what’s in it for me? How ’bout this, you get to live your fantasy.”

And with that Scarlett leaned into and my mother, their mouths meeting in a long french kiss. Lips slid against lips, tongues explored mouths.

I knew Scarlett had been with women. Sometimes she’d tease me about it, ask if it turned me on, if I was interested in a threesome or watching her with another woman. I didn’t know if she was fucking with me, like an ongoing joke among her girlfriends – “I suggested a threesome, he started panting, men, they’re so predictable” – but I’d say yeah; she just called me a liar when I didn’t and, y’know, men, they’re so predictable.

As to Mom? As to Mom, nothing surprised me.

The kiss ended.

Scarlett said, “Sit on the lip baby.”

I said, “What?”

Mom said, “Listen to your girlfriend. Sit on the lip. “

When I didn’t move the women slipped their hands under my arms, directing me upwards. I slid up the side of the tub, sat on its lip, my calves and feet still in the water.

My cock was at half-staff.

Mom reached behind, untied her bikini top, tossed it on the deck. Her huge breasts, large and round, slumped slightly; the areolas were dark oval distended.

My cock did not respond.

Mom, in an exaggerated tone, said, “Suddenly I’m not sure about our deal. Most guys get hard at the sight of these things.”

Scarlett leaned forward and looked at my dick. At some point she’d discarded her bikini top; her breasts, ample and capped with her wonderful conical nipples, swayed before me. “I gotta admit, he’s underperforming. I think he needs additional inspiration.”

The women stood. Their bikini bottoms were gone. Both were shaven clean and their pussy lips swollen, Scarlett’s a delicate pick, Mom’s a darker brownish hue.

Scarlett placed a hand on Mom’s breast, squeezed. “I thought mine were big.”

Mom, cradling one of Scarlett’s breasts, tested its weight, then ran a thumb over the nipple, which lept to attention. “They are honey. Firm too. Does he like them big?”

Scarlett said, avcılar eve gelen escort “Says he doesn’t, but he does,” moved into Mom, and they pressed their lips to each other, their breasts melding together. Scarlett slid her hand across my mother’s wet body to her ass, taking firm hold of one of her substantial butt cheeks. Mom’s hand was on Scarlett’s heart shaped ass. Scarlett closed her eyes, moaned into Mom’s mouth.

When they were done the ladies turned to me, their gaze fixed on my dick. I was getting hard, but was still not at full staff.

Mom said, “Are you sure about this guy?”

Scarlett said, “Y’know men, they say they want a threesome, but when they get one, performance anxiety rears its ugly head.”

The two women slipped back into the water, moved towards me and, their breasts pressed to my legs, stroked and fondled, then lapped and kissed my dick; they ran their tongues up its sides, took turns licking the cock-head. When it was fully erect they leaned back, ran their hands up it, the lightest grazing touch, and Mom said, “You’re correct, once in working order, it’s impressive.”

Scarlett took hold of my swim trunks – they were wrapped around my knees – worked them past my ankles, tossed them. Mom watched them fly past her shoulder, wrapped her hand around my member, looked at the distance between her thumb and index finger, and said, “I was right, as long as his father, but thicker.”

Mom then twisted her hand on my shaft. I leaned back, moving my hips in time with her hand. Mother’s other hand cupped my balls, rolled them about with her strong supple fingers, then moved forward to shower my cock with little kisses before slipping her lips around my cock-head. I cradled her head as she rolled her tongue back and forth on the crown, swabbing its surface in short circular motions; she ran the tip of her tongue along its edges, explored my piss-hole.

Scarlett teased my thighs and butt with soft caresses.

After a final long slow lick up the length of my shaft, Mom leaned back and Scarlett, a hand on each knee, spread my legs. Mom moved between them, captured my dick between her breasts, rotating them on my cock, up and down, side to side.

My penis was on fire.

Mom moved back and Scarlet snaked her hand around the shaft, her thumb stroking the cock-head. She held rubbed squeezed, just hard enough, in just the right spots.

I was as stiff as a board and dripping pew-cum.

Mom said, “He’s doing much better; I think we have a deal.”

Scarlett said, “I knew he’d come around. How could anyone resist those titties?”

The women exchanged a long French kiss.

I dropped my head back and closed my eyes, my focus entirely on my penis, and drove me cock into my girlfriend’s hand, which twisted on my shaft.

The women ended their kiss. Scarlett ran her tongue over her lips, tilted my dick down, and Mom closed her hot mouth over it, dragging her tongue along its sensitive underside. Mom kept moving forward, forcing me back, until she was half out of the water, her fully exposed breasts dripping water. Scarlett, taking advantage, licked my balls.

I groaned, quivering in delight.

They were a team, torrid and red hot. Mouths and hands, fingers and lips and tongues, soft fingertips and delicate nails, stroked and worshiped my dick, sucked on my balls, slid up and down the shaft, grazed my frenulum, kissed and licked the crown. Indefatigable and merciless, getting me hotter and hotter, they took turns licking the head of my penis. Clenching the sides of the hot tub, I watched Mom, my cock-head in her mouth, rhythmically flex her lips and cheeks.

My boiling balls pulled back inside my body. I was ready to come.

Then Mom’s head was off my dick; she took the shaft in her hand, pressed her thumb to its base, waylaying my orgasm.

“Scarlett, you ever try edge play?”

“No, what’s that?”

“You see how long you can hold a guy on the edge of an orgasm; it’s fun and great training.”

Had they forgotten I could hear?

“Ladies, I’m ready.”

Scarlett, whose hand joined Mom’s on my dick, said, “You’re ready when your Mama says you’re ready. “

Mom nodded in agreement, Scarlett whispered something in her ear, sucked on her earlobe. The women giggled and kissed, their tongues took turns in each other’s mouth. The long sweet kiss ended. Scarlett said, “I’m game.”

The two of them leaned forward, licking and kissing my raging manhood with cruel careful slowness and agonizing delicacy. Methodical patient precise, they kept me on the edge of an orgasm and, as they gauged my reactions, deciphered my breaths, my moans, my squirming body, they grew ever more expert, their fingers and mouths and luscious hot bodies pushing me to the brink, holding me there until with one more touch or in one more second I’d explode, then they’d stop, back off, do it again, and again.

I moaned, trembled, struggled for breath, shook, concentrated on my cock, on every exquisite sensation. I was growing blue boys. I needed to come.

Then Scarlett leaned over, whispered something in Mom’s ear. Mom nodded, whispered something to Scarlett. The women kissed, Scarlett licked my dick, and Mom said, “We love how patient you’ve been son, it lets a girl know she’s appreciated and a girl so does like to be appreciated, especially by a handsome young stud like you.”

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