If someone told me yesterday, what I'd see when I woke up this morning, I'd have told them they were certified-bonkers!
I'd just come down from college on a four-day break -- due to a federal holiday taking up both the Friday and the Monday following -- and had arrived at my parents house late last night. My Dad, Jason, was off on a two-week hitch for his business in another town, so it was just Mom, Elise and my nineteen year-old brother, Zachary (Zack, for short) who were there to meet me; Kerry.
Having driven for nearly eight hours to get there, I wasn't in any shape to stay up and play catch-up with Mom or Zack. So, I excused myself, took a quick shower before crashing in my old bedroom for the night.
Now it was following Saturday. I figure it had to be around seven or eight in the morning; my body was still on 'college-schedule' time, so I stretched, yawned and rolled out of bed and started gathering my things to do my morning routine. I'd gone to bed in nothing but a pair of high-cut white panties and an oversized night shirt; complete with my alma-mater's logo splashed across the front.
Stumbling out into the hallway, my mind was still waking up -- going over some things I had to do before the morning was done -- and I really wasn't paying that much attention as I made my way towards the communal bathroom on the upstairs floor . . . .
That's when I heard it.
A low moan; with the quality and resonance of a deep voice, filled with pleasure. I'd heard that sort of moan before, usually from a then-current boyfriend or late-night lover as I showed him what a little, sweet-looking Southern girl could do with her mouth, hands and pussy. Still, it threw me for a loop as why I was hearing that sort of sexual sound, here, that morning in my family home. What the fuck--?
Yeah, I'm no stranger to sex -- after all, when you have a body made fit from sports like swimming and volleyball (a switch I had to make, when my breasts went from A-cup to C-cup in two summers!), along with my "girl-next-door" looks . . . well, let's just say I enjoy it with some frequency. Though the quality is few and far between.
Stopping in the hall, I cocked my head and tried to listen for more sounds. A minute later, I heard it again. No mistake. It was the sound of a man in pure, sexual bliss and . . . as I tried to clear the last strands of sleep from my brain, as far as I could tell the sound came from behind me! Slowly turning around, I face the direction of my brother's room. Again, I heard a groan and a loud sigh of satisfaction.
Fuck! Did little brother sneak someone into the house last night?
I thought.
Or did he do that this morning?
Mom never made any bones about me having some . . . fun, sexually, while I was still living at home. Granted, we had 'the talk', I got on a birth-control shot, yadda-yadda and the whole bolt and barrel . . . but, she always said that there were to be no overnight stays, no matter what my feelings were on the matter.
Had that policy changed for Zack? No, it couldn't have!
I reasoned. Mom's the type when she makes up her mind on something, she sticks to it. Still, there was no denying that Zack had someone in his room, and they were clearly sexing it up!
I was awake by then, and the further sounds of pleasure coming from the half-open door of my brother's room piqued my curious-side. Not in so much as to seeing my baby brother fucking some chick . . . but, I had to see whom he was getting some tail from, that he'd run the risk of having her here, while Mom might still be around. It was that little tick -- discovery by our Mom -- that made my own insides twitch. The idea of Zack getting caught by our mother was . . . I dunno how to describe it, I guess. Deliciously wicked could be one way.
Forgetting about my morning routine, I slowly started to make my way down to Zack's room. My bare feet padding on the soft carpet of the hall, not making a sound as I got closer. I smiled, feeling very naughty . . . after all, it would be Dutch for Zack if Mom came up and caught him in coitus with some girl, though I myself might catch some flack too, for spying on him from the hall.
Pausing to drop my toiletries on the floor, I inched my way closer to the doorway; the moans and sighs clearly those of my little brother, coming through the opening with increasing frequency. Whoever this chick was, Zack was adding some rather choice words along with his pleasure-sounds: "Oh, that's it . . . mmm, suck that cock, you beautiful slut! God, I love what you do to me in the morning. Ahhh . . . I don't wanna go another day without your mouth on my dick!"
My ears pricked up, and I have to admit, my own pussy reacted to such filthy talk. God, fuck!
She must really be some hot slut, if she's making him speak like some porn actor!
I thought. It was then I just knew I couldn't back off and just go about my business. I just had to see. Using the half-shut door as a shield, I crept closer, steeled myself and slowly peeked around the edge into Zack's room--.
Holy FUCK! I nearly stumbled into the door, but I caught myself in time. Wide-eyed, I just stared in disbelief; my breath stopped and -- much to my embarrassment -- my pussy clenching at the scene before me.
Zack was leaning back against his chest of drawers, his arms and feet planted firmly, propping his body into the air. He had on a white T-shirt, which was rucked up to just below his pecks, leaving his tummy bare . . . well, pretty much the rest of him was bare from his torso to his feet! His legs were spread, and his head ducked until his chin touched his chest. Zack's brown hair looked sleep-tossed, but his expression clearly showed he was wide awake; his baby-blues sparkling with lust as he stared down towards the floor in front of him.
That wasn't the shocking thing, mind you. What was is that it wasn't some unknown chick on the floor before Zack, sucking on his dick. No . . . it was our mother, Elise!
Fuck! What the hell--? I just couldn't wrap my mind around it. My mother, who'd never proved herself to be a total prude, yet always somewhat of a conservative-yet-liberal outlook on most things sexual -- at least what I recall, growing up. Yet, she had her soft lips and obviously-willing mouth wrapped around her son's pecker; sucking, licking and slurping like it was an ice-cream cone melting in the morning light.
Flabbergasted, it was all I could do to stand upright as I watched this scene continue. I did my best to keep quiet, since I knew if I was discovered, there probably would be hell to pay from Mom, much less Zack too.
Mom was clearly relishing this incestuous act she was performing with her offspring.
She must've come to do this after her morning shower,
I thought absently. Her long, strawberry-blond hair was still damp, hanging down in waves over her shoulders and upper back. She'd been wearing a robe, but it was off her shoulders and on the floor, leaving her naked in front of Zack and me.
When I let my eyes drift away from her sucking mouth and face, I couldn't help but notice that, for a nearly forty year-old broad, my mother kept herself well. She was relatively slim, with all the pounds in all the right curves. Her belly showed a soft, if slight pooch, but her legs were still in great shape (due to her being a professional dancer, when she was younger). Seeing her like this though . . . well, I reasoned, no wonder Zack couldn't have resisted her. Well, provided it was Mom who seduced my baby brother in the first place.
