A Mother's Dream
Cast of characters: Arlene, the mother; Judy and Alex, the 19 year-old twins; Hal, the husband
Chapter 1
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 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.
