And You Thought This Would Be Easy 2

Ok let's start with the completely boring part. Yes, it has been a long time since I've written anything. No, this is not a sequel to anything I've written previously. Yes my spelling, punctuation, grammar, and sentence structure are atrocious (It is wonder I've ever held employment). No, I don't' write Shakespeare, I write porn, if you want enlightenment or culture, this is the wrong place on the Internet. Yes I welcome feedback and am willing to work with and editor, if and when I can find one that will put up with me, as again I am slow to write. Apparently benji4lyf has agreed to give it shot and has agree to edit others that I will be finishing, as well as some new ones I am currently writing. This one in particular has likely two more parts to it, one for sure - Sorry it's long.

No, there are no parts of this that are real or based on any past, present or future experiences, as that would be slightly twisted. By way of an excuse please be reminded that; Oedipus has been around for a long time and I am not the first to write about it (But if it helps you this can all be put down as being the product of a sick and demented mind and we can leave it at that). Again I write PORN, there is nothing genuine or morally right about it. The images are over the top and decidedly unreal, if not cartoonish in nature. There are no consequences to what I write; no bad things are going to happen to the people I write about unless it helps the story. That being said, there is no safe sex as this is not REAL so please do not leave me ten page diatribes on the merits of sexual abstinence, horrors of AIDS, sexual abuse or whatever you may feel you need to tell me to justify that you've read my story and now feel guilty.

Lastly the characters in this story are FICTICIOUS so they are NOT real and subsequently are of the age they need to be to make all the legal people happy (Typically that is 18 & UP but if they need to be (Older, than they are - Its fiction).

"Did you see it?" My husband asked me again for what seemed like the fiftieth time that evening.

All day he seemed in awe of what had occurred this afternoon and had asked me on several occasions to reaffirm to him that he hadn't dreamt the whole thing. The now 'Infamous Pool Incident' had indeed occurred and the impact it had on me and my family was going to be life changing, we just didn't know it at the time. It was Michael's Year End Bash, he threw one every year just before the end of school as a 'Congratulations We Survived' kind of event. It originally started out as just a few close friends in grade nine but with each progressive year, more and more kids were invited. His first party had eight kids, five boys, and three girls.

The original plan was for four and four but one girl couldn't make it, which left a spot open for Michael's younger cousin Joel, who was a year behind. Joel was pretty athletic which allowed him to keep up with the boys but he was rather immature, a trait that only became more pronounced as he aged. This most recent party had been originally planned for twelve guests but soon blossomed into sixteen. Then a week before the party was to happen, Michael came to me and asked if there could be a few more kids added.

Knowing this likely his last party as he and his classmates were graduating "Sure baby, as many as you want. It's likely your last hurrah," I said jokingly.

Well, a few more soon became twenty, and twenty quickly became thirty-two, thirty-three if you included Michael's cousin Joel, who always seemed to get himself invited. So with a guest list as long as your arm, and a week to go we kicked into high gear and put the party together. I had some help from Michael and his father but that was limited as his dad was working long hours and Michael was in school. Needless to say the whole thing came together well and there was plenty of food, snacks, and music to go around, along with some ever present but not overbearing adult supervision.

So everyone was mingling well and the kids were getting along fine when Joel broke out the water pistols, or should I say cannons, that I'd hidden away in the pool shed. Needless to say they were soon filled with icy cold water, thanks to Joel and he was making every effort to spray the more well endowed girls directly in the front of whatever flimsy excuse for a shirt they were wearing.

Now some of the smarter girls were wearing their bathing suits underneath their shirts, while others weren't, you get the picture. At that point it was time for the adult supervision to kick in and I asked Michael to help me bring his cousin in line. Joel like his father has difficulty taking direction from women so some male support on my side was appreciated. Roger had just got back from running an errand, so as I went to enlist him into our cause, Michael stepped up his assault on Joel's mayhem by threatening to drown him in the pool if he didn't settle. Well of course Joel pushed the point and amazingly Michael got a hold of him, even though Joel is somewhat stockier than Michael and as quick as you please, Joel was sent head long into the pool.

Everyone of course cheered jubilantly and I had thought all was said and done. Roger had arrived and cautioned both boys to put an end to it and that seemed to have taken care of things or at least I thought it did. I had even taken the time to confront Joel and let him know enough was enough and if he kept it up he'd soon be going. Well apparently being admonished by his aunt wasn't a strong enough message or maybe it was too much because things were about to go south quickly. Joel, does not like to be put in his place by anyone, let alone a female so later he took advantage of a quiet moment in the party when people were talking to run up behind his cousin and pants him in front of everyone. For a full minute you could have heard a pin drop.

My son was naked from the waist down and his extraordinary equipment was on display for one and all to see. There were some 'Ooohs' and a few 'Ahhs,' a couple of 'Oh my gods,' one 'Holy fuck,' more than one chuckle and a definite 'I'm going to fucking kill you' from my son. Joel ran for his life and left the party quickly, running all the way home forgetting his parent's car in the process. I received a call from his mom, Judy shortly thereafter asking if it was safe to have him pick up the car or should she come and get it herself. For the sake of the family I said I'd bring it to them and Roger would follow behind me to bring me back home.

This brings us back to the moment at hand; my husband and I are getting ready for bed. Roger was already in bed wearing the bottoms of his pyjamas and I had just come out of the bathroom wearing the top. We often went to bed that way, and had done so since the early days of our marriage, he had found it sexy from the time of our honeymoon and it just seemed to have stuck. It was now this ritual we never let go of, the only change was if I was having my period, then I wore panties, but typically I wore just the top. What few nighties I did have were of the more risqué type, that were meant to entice, although I think I looked rather enticing as it was in a pyjama top. Generally when I shopped for bedclothes, I bought large men's pyjamas, long sleeved and that was it, that's what we wore to bed.

So here we were getting ready for bed. I had just come out of the shower, dried my self off, wrapped a towel around my head like a turban and was putting on my top, doing up the buttons. My husband sitting in bed waiting for me, obsessing, he couldn't seem to let go of what he and I and everyone else saw during the party; my son naked from the waist down, fully exposed and on display sporting a rather large, possibly extraordinarily large, although flaccid penis. Although the incident probably happened in less than a minute from beginning to end it did seem much longer. The global pause of the crowd seemed embarrassingly long and the moment felt like it had held still in time.

"God he's hung!" My husband continued.

The excitement in his voice was almost palatable; he was exuding an intense curiosity about what we had all witnessed, a morbid fascination if you will. Not too dissimilar from driving by a car wreck, you don't want to look but you just have too.

"Yes baby I know," I replied in answer my voice trying to downplay my husband's enthusiasm.

I thought if I could just normalize the incident we could just move past it, without any undo harm. But even in my thinking I was referring to today's event as 'The Incident' the harm had already occurred and I just didn't know it yet.

"Did you see it?" He repeated sounding as though he would be more fascinated with context of my answer than my simple acknowledgement of the fact.

My husband seemed to be attempting to judge the impact this was having on me, it was apparent that it had, had an impact on him. At the time I didn't think the impact to me was as far great as it was to him, I was soon to find out differently.

"How could I not babe?" Again my voice was calm and matter-of-fact.

"We all saw it!" I said as I walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge.

Roger didn't really appear to be looking at me as he spoke. He was in some far off place, recounting the events of the day over and over again.

"But did you really get a look at it?" He asked once again.

"Yes baby I did," Was my response.

It was simple and to the point, I find when he gets like this it's the best way to deal with him. No emphasis on tone or phrasing, just straight and to the point. Any build up in my voice one way or the other would simply cause him to further react.

"I mean, my god did you really see it!" His emphasis on the word 'IT' was undeniable.

He was clearly becoming obsessed with what had happened this afternoon at the pool party. He was in awe of his son's apparent size and quite frankly without being too overly dramatic, it was big.

"Yes baby I saw it," I said still trying to down play the issue and just normalize the situation I crawled into bed beside him, I was fussing with my earrings and was taking them out to put them by my night-stand.

Seeing that I was having difficulty, he came up behind me and began to take them out for me, first the left and than the right. This was sort of a manipulation on my part, as this little ritual was usually an indication that we were going to have sex. I had thought if I could get him focused on something else, we could end this conversation and go to bed, but to no avail.

"It was big wasn't it," He asked really not expecting an answer that would be contrary to his observation. Hell, there really was no way to rebuke what we had seen, what everyone had seen for that matter.

"Yes baby it was big," I confirmed again, reassuring him once more that he was right, it was big my son, our son was rather hung.

I turned to face him, taking my hair out of the towel and letting it fall to the floor. He always loved this look on me, fresh from the shower, hair looking wet and sexy. I pulled my pyjama top down, causing the material to pull firmly against my breast, exposing my ample cleavage as a means to entice him away from this topic. My nipples began to poke out hard against the material indicating my arousal.

"My god and it wasn't even hard!" He said has he lay back, nestling his head into the pillow while staring straight up at the ceiling.

I couldn't believe that he was ignoring my cues and staying singularly focused on this one issue. I was going to have to be more direct and actually initiate the first move.

"No baby our son got pants in front of all his friends and he wasn't sporting an erection," My god the man was a moron. How is getting pants'd in front of your friends a turn on for most teenage boys.

"Do you think he's a virgin?" Asked my husband innocently.

"I don't know Roger why don't you ask him!" Now I was getting annoyed.

But it was clear that my tone wasn't registering, as this conversation didn't appear to have an end to it. Roger was becoming more obsessed. He'd always had a weird fascination with larger than normal penises, well that is to say when we watched porn together, it always featured the more well endowed actors vs. those that might be consider more normal in their... size.

"My god I wonder how often he gets laid?" Continued my husband.

"Roger Kemp that is enough!" I replied feeling a little frazzled by this discussion.

"You are talking about Michael, our son," I said finally trying to bring an end to this topic.

For a second Roger appeared to have halted the discussion and he turned onto his side, blinked his eyes and looked at me seriously and said, "I know he's our son but my god the boy is hung like a porn star, better even. Think about it Kate, with a dick like that he must be a legend and he's only eighteen!"

I just stared blankly at him as he continued, "God what girl wouldn't want a piece of that?"

This was a trap that I didn't see it coming. Later when I looked back on it I would realize that this was the very moment things began to change, but at the time my motherly instincts took over and I became protective.

"Look Roger, Michael is just a boy and yes he is a boy with a rather large... penis, but he is still a boy,"

"Girls his age are simply that, girls. They don't know what they want, they don't have experience and a boy with a rather large... penis, is not what you at the age of forty-two think it is," I continued down this vein trying to set my husband straight.

I was hoping he'd join me on a path that might be more conducive to supporting our son, rather than overly glamorizing his 'Equipment', "most girls Michael's age have had limited encounters with boys and something that... size, it's kind of intimidating on your first attempt,"

"Michael may not have actually encountered someone brave enough to attempt such a feat without having had more experience or at the very least multiple partners," I continued. To think that a young girls Michael's age would be willing to have something like that shoved inside her was a bit naïve on my dear husband's part.

Roger remained quiet as I spoke and allowed me to go on. Had I known it was all part of his twisted little plan I probably wouldn't have preceded as I did. Well they say hindsight is always 20/20 and without its benefit, I continued down this path blinded to what lay ahead of me.

"Besides," I went on, "Just because you have the best equipment in the game doesn't mean you know how to use it or, that you're the best player,"

Of course my husband wasn't going to leave it there. He was too caught up in his single minded pursuit, getting side tracked as most men do, becoming fixated with one angle of discussion, sex.

"Is that the voice of experience speaking?" He asked a sly smile across his face.

"How did this conversation become about me?" I questioned. I was becoming more than a little frustrated and my blood was beginning to boil, "We were talking about Michael."

"Yes I know but you seem to have answers I haven't considered, so I was wondering from whence this information came? Knowledge gathered through observation? Personal experience? Or are you just guessing?" God I hated when he waxed philosophical. As much as I loved my husband he could be an arrogant Son-of-Bitch when he wanted to be and this was proving to be no different.

"Look all I'm saying is that he does have the equipment you might think everyone wants," I looked at him knowing he wasn't able to get beyond the visual he'd seen this morning,"But without the right kind of practice, it maybe more of a curse than you'd like to think,"

"A curse, really. Are you sure?" Again that sly smile on his face appeared.

"Yes of course I'm sure. That's a rather large... a... weapon, he has between his legs," I reiterated what we both knew, "And I doubt there are any girls his age with the experience needed to handle something like that, let alone teach him how to use it and use it well. Quite frankly that takes a woman not a girl,"

"And you don't think he's tried to use that thing on any of the girls that seem to clamour around him all the time; Becky, Cindy, Kay lee, Rachel," He listed just a small number of the girls that Michael had either dated or been close to over his high school life, "With not one of those girls has had the pleasure of that tool?"

My husband was right. One of those girls had to have at least sampled some of my son's length, whether fully or half-heartedly. My own heart ached for him, recalling his embarrassment this afternoon when all had been revealed. What if, I couldn't help but worry, he had experiences that weren't as flattering to his ego as you might think. What if his size made him more of a freak, than a god among men or more to the point boys? Boys who had no clear idea what a cock like that could do to or for a woman, if employed correctly.

Not all women mind you, but enough of us that either secretly fantasized about larger men or have had the pleasure of experiencing them. Especially if the men knew how to use, oh the sexual doors they could open that others couldn't.

"Well they may have tried it, but I don't believe for an instant they'd have been able to help him master it," I said emphatically.

I was beginning to feel a mixture of things that ranged from custodial and protective, right through to possessive and jealous, almost covetous, "That would take someone with far more experience than any of those girls have."

"Really, so we're talking a woman vs. a girl than?" My husband was being smug and it was having the effect he knew it would, the manipulative bastard.

"Well I would think so..." and before I finished my sentence I knew he'd played me.

"Fine I'll hook him up with an escort for a graduation present and he'll get the practice he needs,"He smiled and reached for his cell phone, "Jamie will know just who to call."

"You'll do nothing of the sort! No sleaze bag whore is going to get within a mile of my son!" Jamie was my husbands younger brother, Joel's dad and I had no doubt he'd know just exactly who to call.

"Well I wasn't thinking a mile but from what I saw this afternoon it look to be around ten maybe twelve inches, What do you think?" the smile on my husbands face was devious and broad.

"I think you're goading me, is what I think," I replied knowing full well he'd got me roused and he'd done it on purpose. We had some of our best sex when I was in this state and he knew it. In fact I was betting he was counting on it.

"Well it was fucking huge wasn't it," he said with a smile. Moving in closer to me, closing the distance between our bodies, I could feel the heat coming off him and knew where this was headed. Roger had a few tells when it came to sex and this was one of them.

"Yes it was," I affirmed.

"It was fucking huge," And thick, I thought to myself, nice and thick, oh my god was it thick.

It didn't occur to me until later but I began to swear, which is one of my 'tells' when it came to wanting sex and Roger knew that one well. Suddenly I was horny, hornier than I had been in a long time. There is something unique about my frustration level, and me sometimes when I get frustrated I get horny. So given the futility of the discussion I'd been having with my husband I was definitely frustrated and therefore aroused.

And this arousal brought on by my husband's incessant obsession with the size of my sons cock had me raging with a frustration I couldn't pinpoint. Before I knew what was happening he had his hand behind my head and brought me in for a kiss. He held my head tightly; making sure the kiss was tight and passionate. Our mouths sought each other as if trying to chew and consume the other. My tongue searched out his, as I suck and bit his lips. Soon both my hands held his face close to mine and I couldn't get enough of his taste and smell but I wanted more. The kiss continued and progressed as Roger leaned back into the bed against his pillows. I moved forward with him, straddling his legs, not wanting our mouths to part.