Rachael Fletcher walked up the path to the canopied altar beneath the azure New Mexico sky on her son Aaron's arm, wondering all the while if her dress wasn't too revealing for a morning wedding. The neckline of her diaphanous pastel lavender gown plunged to her waist to show off her huge tits, with the skirt fitted at her waist and hips to hug every curve of her luscious figure. The soft intakes of breath and appreciative murmurs of the guests seated in rows on either side of the long, petal-strewn flagstone aisle were reassuring on that score. It was always her aim to be the object of lust by either men or women and on that score she had succeeded.
Rachael's fashion choices were hardly the most eye-catching among the wedding party, and it wasn't as if she could upstage the bride in that respect. Emily Marchand was dazzling in her daring gemstone-embellished white mini-dress, train, and high-heeled sandals. Her train fluttered on the arid breeze as she began her bridal walk, escorted by her father Glenn on her left and her aunt Danielle on her right.
Emily was as beautiful as Aaron was strong and tall and handsome. Everyone agreed that they were a perfect match. Rachael wished them all the happiness in the world in their future life together.
She also wished that her emotions were that uncomplicated and that she didn't envy Emily as she did. Her jealousy was unworthy and unfair. The girl was bright and friendly, appearing almost too innocent for her twenty-two years. Rachael had only finally met her face-to-face a week ago, and had liked her immediately. And yet...
"You're not losing a son, you're gaining a daughter." Seeing that Aaron's sudden betrothal to a near-stranger troubled Rachael, her well-intended friends were quick to volunteer that hoary proverb. But she was not close enough to anyone to confide the true reason for her dismay.
She might be gaining a daughter, but Rachael was losing the most fantastic stud she'd ever had between her legs. And she'd had him to herself for nearly five years.
Just last evening she'd slipped into her son's hotel room. They'd both been tipsy, but that hadn't prevented Aaron's prick from getting hard as an iron bar when his busty brunette mother had stripped off of her black cocktail dress and dragged him to bed. She'd barely released his cock all night, fucking him until he went soft and then sucking him back to life again, and again. She'd woken him before dawn this morning with a final blowjob before riding him to one last, ball-draining climax.
She didn't feel the least bit guilty about it. She knew Aaron's sexual capacities well and was sure that as much he and Emily adored one another, he'd have no trouble at all getting it up for her and filling her pussy with hard cock on their wedding night. And Rachael still felt the imprint of his huge cock inside her fuck channel six hours later, a last bittersweet memory to take with her when she returned to New York and left the young couple to make their new home together here in Santa Fe.
Rachael followed her own star where sex was concerned. She was an unapologetic, lusty slut, yet she'd never intended to become her only son's fuck-mate--at least, not consciously. Their affair had begun as what she'd believed was a simple case of mistaken identity.
She'd been very young when Aaron was born. His father, Milt, was a varsity running back at her high school. Milt was talented and strong as an ox, if only a little smarter than one, and was chasing an athletic scholarship and a shot at playing pro ball. He was a good fuck, but not looking to settle down and raise a suburban family. He'd proposed to Rachael anyway.
.She'd refused his offer, saying "no, thanks" to the prospect of married life with all of its archaic restrictions on female sexuality. Even at eighteen, her voracious sexual appetite and unbounded lust were too much for any one man to satisfy. Marrying Milt would have been unfair to him in more than one way. And he'd barely been able to hide his relief at being turned down.
Rachael had moved to the city, managing life as a single mother while working and putting herself through night school. She'd earned her degree, passed the securities exams, and landed a position at one of the big brokerages.
She earned every penny of her salary and commissions but was first to admit that playing the willing slut in the executive offices hadn't hurt her rise in the company ranks, either. But for every hour she spent on her knees or her back, she put in three on the trading floor, in client meetings, and researching the hell out of the market. Driven as she was, she vowed never to neglect her son. She was there for every teacher's meeting, soccer game, birthday party, and skinned knee of Aaron's life.
Rachael didn't have time for romance. She wasn't looking for a life partner. In her stolen hours of personal time, what she wanted was cock. Not sex with stressed-out middle-aged suits who could barely manage a few cum-spurts after three drinks at lunch, but crazy, hours-long no-strings fucking with hard-bodied studs.
She preferred her men handsome and creative and gentle--not too gentle--but mainly, she wanted them young and hung. A twenty-year-old part-time bike messenger with eight or nine inches always beat a heart surgeon who could read a wine list in French. She craved variety in her fucking, as well. That was a problem. Bringing a parade of strangers home to the apartment she shared with Aaron was out of the question.
Ever the pragmatic problem-solver, Rachael joined a sex club, It was an uptown place frequented by well-to-do professionals. In addition to the main club floor, it included party rooms where she engaged in delicious group scenes and a dungeon that she tried out once or twice. BDSM didn't turn out to be one of her kinks, even playing Dom. Most importantly, there were well-appointed private suites upstairs that she could reserve on short notice.
She had four hookup apps on her phone. She rarely knew the names or even faces of the guys she swiped right on until they were face-to-face and naked. She uploaded lots of nude snapshots of herself. Even with her face blurred out, she took a good picture. Droves of eager volunteers responded, and she gathered an impressive collection of erect dick pics. If a man measured up, she'd arrange to meet them at her club.
At 6:30 on the Friday evening that was to seal Rachael's destiny as an incestuous slut she found herself sitting alone at a table in a high-backed booth in the dimly-lit club bar. She was there to meet the anonymous owner of a particularly prodigious cock. She'd masturbated for days to images of her next lover-to-be's massive hard-on.
Too many men bragged if they were as much as an inch longer than average in the dick department. She'd learned to spot exaggerated camera angles and Photoshopped cocks. This new fellow was refreshingly modest. His profile didn't offer dimensions, but his cock hung more than halfway to his knees when soft. When erect it looked to her expert eyes like it must be nearly a foot long.
She sipped her Manhattan and flipped through of few of those pictures, brimming with anticipation at the promise of a leisurely evening spent taking that monster in all her horny holes. When a shadow fell across her table, she smiled and looked up at the handsome face of--her son!
"Aaron!" Rachael blushed crimson, mind racing to figure out how to explain her presence in a place like this. "Jesus Christ, what are
you
doing here?"
"Why does anyone come here?" Aaron looked startled, but not nearly as flustered as his mother. "Looking to meet someone."
"This...this isn't really an appropriate place for you to be hanging around," Rachael stammered. What would she do if her mystery stud showed up while Aaron was standing right there?
"Aw, Mom, a bunch of the guys from college hang out here. Guys who're into MIL--I mean, guys who like to spend time with more experienced women." Seeing that nothing he said was making the situation better, Aaron tried to change the subject. He frowned at the empty seat across from Rachael. "Look, do I have to stand here like I'm getting lectured about cutting school or something?"
