The Guesthouse Stories

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Disclaimer: This story is a work fiction. None of the characters or events herein are based on real people, either living or dead. It was produced for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or if reading stories of a sexual nature upsets you, do not read any further! By reading further, you certify that you have accessed/requested access to this material willfully, and that you are an adult 21 years of age or older. You also certify that you are NOT a city, county, state, or federal law enforcement officer, a law enforcement officer of the United Kingdom, and that, to your knowledge, this material does not offend the standards in your area, nor is it in violation of any of local, state, or federal law.

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The Guesthouse Stories Part 1.

I lived in a small mid-west town from my birth until the age of twenty- three when I went traveling in Europe. This story happened to me when I was nineteen. My parents ran a small guesthouse that took in some permanent guests and traveling salesmen. I say my parents ran the guesthouse; in fact my mother ran it whilst my father earned a living as an IT hardware engineer. This job meant that he was often away for a few days at a time. I therefore did my best to lend a hand, tidying and maintaining the place, to help my mother.

Let me describe my mother and myself. Mom was and still is a petite, attractive brunette with slightly boyish looks, enhanced by her liking for bobbed hairstyles. She is slim and naturally athletic looking being 5' 4" and with a figure most twenty-year olds would die for. I myself am 5' 11," sandy haired, slim & fit. Nothing special to look at but generally okay, you could say.

I considered myself to be heterosexual and had, by the age of nineteen, had a good deal of sex with a few girlfriends, but nothing serious. Generally I am happy with my own company but by no means a loner. I do however have a great interest in all things sexual and have from an early age. I enjoy sex magazines, porn videos and generally fantasising about sex in all its forms. I have never thought of myself as obsessed; I simply have the high sex drive of a regular young man. I suppose if there is anything unusual about me it is that I am a sexual hedonist when it comes to both viewing and fantasising about sex. For me anything goes; hetero, gay, lesbian, bi, consensual, non-consensual, and even bestial. The only exceptions I make are that I'm not into S&M or anything that involves children.

Anyway, back to the story of how the arrival of a new guest and subsequent events put all my fantasies into the shade.

One Saturday morning Mom told me that a man had phoned to arrange accommodation on a semi-permanent basis. He was coming into town to do some contract work at a local surveyors office and wanted to stay at least three weeks and maybe longer depending how his work went. Mom said that she had told him a room would be ready for him that afternoon. She then told me his name was Peter and that she was going to put him in the attic room and asked that I make sure the room was all in order since it hadn't had a guest in it for the last six months. I checked it out after lunch, opened up the windows to let it air through, fixed a broken bulb and generally gave it a clean through. Mom then made up the bed with fresh linen.

Peter arrived around four o'clock after a seven-hour car journey. He was in his late thirties, very slightly overweight but was clean and smart in appearance. However there was something about him, a look in his eye, the way he carried himself, something different but I couldn't put my finger on it. He hadn't even unpacked when he asked if he could bath to freshen up. I must admit that I thought this was a little strange. Most guests at least had a look around the house and yard, grabbed a coffee and chatted a little before settling in and taking baths, but not Peter; he wanted a bath straight away. Mum showed him along the corridor to the bathroom and I followed behind. I could see that Peter was taking a good look at Mom's ass which I have to say looked pretty good in a pair of tight stretch-jeans. Don't get me wrong. I didn't make a habit of looking at my Mom sexually, it's just there was no denying, she had a great arse!

Intrigued by the new arrival and knowing he would be in the bath for at least twenty minutes, I decided to take a quick look in his room and maybe sneak a peek in his bag. I didn't make a habit of such things but just occasionally human nature gets the better of us all and on occasion I would take a little look at guests personal belongings. It told more about a person in a few minutes than hours of polite conversation over dinner ever did. I always left things straight and never ever took anything – it wasn't about stealing, just being nosy.

I unzipped Peter's bag, which was left on the bed. On top was the usual stuff; a couple of pairs of pants, three shirts, t-shirts, underwear and toiletries. I figured I'd find some porn mags since most of our male guests seemed to arrive with some late-night reading material. Sure enough there were a few mags that looked pretty interesting. At the bottom of his bag were two smaller zip bags. One was obviously a camera bag and when I looked it contained a compact video camera. The other was more intriguing; a small wash-bag. I unzipped this and looked inside. To my utter surprise it contained a strap-on dildo, about ten inches long. What in earth was Peter carrying a strap-on dildo in his bags when everything else about his belongings seemed so ordinary?

I re-zipped the dildo bag and checked the clock. I had only been in Peter's room for 3 or 4 minutes; time to take a quick peek at the mags. The first was a regular sex mag, plenty of nice girls, all solo. The second was better. It featured men and women having really good hard sex with plenty of penetration and cum shots. I made a mental note to come back and borrow it one day when Peter was at work. The third and final mag was really different. It featured an older women, maybe late thirties or early forties, and a young guy. The text was a story board to go with the pictures and laid out that the women was the young guy's mom. This was really good with the young guy spying on his mother and then getting it on with her in the kitchen. I had never really fantasised about incest but this story was really getting me hard. I couldn't help thinking of my own Mom and what it might be like to fuck her. I had seen her tits when she was sun bathing from time to time but never anything else. I started to rub my dick through my chinos and felt the dampness of pre-cum in my jockeys. As I rubbed I just knew I wasn't going to be able to hold out for long. I checked the clock again – fifteen minutes gone – Peter would surely be finishing soon and I had to get out of his room. Sod it just look at a few more pages, I thought. I was entranced and on the verge of cumming and I hadn't even got my dick out. I quickly undid my fly, grabbed my dick out of my shorts and, massaging the pre-cum into the head jerked myself. I started to come instantly and buckets just spewed all over my hand. I hadn't even prepared by grabbing a kleenex. In the back of my mind I knew I had to get out quick or be caught.

"Found what you're looking for?" I swung round to see Peter entering the room with a towel round his waist and carrying his clothes. I had blown it in more ways than one. I instantly flushed with embarrassment. What the fuck could I say, caught with a fist full of cum in a guest's room and his personal property spread all over the bed. I blurted out "Oh god, sorry… I couldn't help it…I…I " or some such crap. Peter remained unnervingly calm. "Do you always treat your guest's belongings like this?" he said. "No, never….I just took a peek, and…" Peter cut me off and told me to stop mumbling. "You know I am going to have to tell your mother, and then find alternative accommodation, don't you," he said. "No, for god sake don't tell my Mom, It won't ever happen again, I promise, please don't tell Mom," I pleaded. I was still stood with dick in hand and cum dripping onto the floor – utter humiliation.

Peter's mood then changed. He suddenly changed from cool to severe. "If you don't want me to tell your Mom then you're going have to make amends and that means doing whatever I say during my stay here. Do you understand?" he demanded. "Sure," I said, "I'll do chores for you, go shopping to the mall, whatever you want."

"What I want is not fucking chores doing you little wanker, what I want is much more personal than that, are you still on for the deal or do I tell your Mom?" he said. "I'm on for the deal," I replied. I knew Peter would only be with us for a few weeks and figured anything he might want would be better than my Mom finding out what I had been upto in Peter's room.

I went to cover myself and tuck my dick back into by pants. "You can start right now" said Peter. "Leave your dick out and drop your pants and shorts to the floor, Now!" he instructed. What the fuck! I couldn't believe he wanted my to drop my pants and said, "oh come on, I'll do other things, chores errands, you know."

"Not good enough, you agreed to the deal, now drop your pant or get out and suffer the consequences," he said.

I knew I was lost. I fumbled at my belt and slowly undid it and my pants. They dropped to the floor. "And the shorts," he said. I slowly pulled my shorts down to my ankles and then stood up covering my dick with both hands. I could feel it was beginning to get semi-hard again and didn't want Peter to see that my situation was getting me excited. I could see Peter's dick had started to tent under his towel and realised the situation was getting him hot to.

Peter closed the door and removed his towel. His dick sprung up straight. It was a good 8" long and un-cut. Peter wrapped his fist around it and gently pulled his skin back and forth. "If you like to wank in guest's rooms then you can go it again now," he said. "I can't," I said, "I've only just come." "Then you'd better work hard to come again for me, or the deals off," he replied. I placed my hand around my dick and started to wank slowly. My dick was getting hard but the situation was making me nervous and I didn't think I would be able to come. Peter obviously realised this and started to talk to me about the magazine he had caught me with. He asked me if I liked the incest story and whether it made me think of my own mother. Whether I had ever seen her nude and if I ever wanked when thinking about her. I said no, but just Peter saying such things had made me start to think of my Mom as I jerked myself off in front of another man and one that I had only met an hour before.

"Come on, you little slut fuck, wank harder, harder, milk yourself for me, I want to see you spray your cum again," Peter said as he continued to wank himself faster. I could feel my own orgasm coming and was no longer trying to cover myself in anyway. I stood proudly in front of him, a total stranger, wanking for all I was worth and thinking of fucking my own mother. Peter obviously realised the effect the magazine had had on me and what I was thinking about. "So you want to fuck your own Mother just like the story do you?" "You want her to suck you and fuck you and take your cum do you," he said. "Yes, oh yes," I said as I started to feel my cum rising. "Oh god I want to fuck my mother and spray her with cum," I shouted as my cum started to spray, burst after burst across the floor. As I subsided Peter approached me and told me to kneel down. My god he didn't want me to suck him did he. No, Peter just stood in front of my face and continued to wank. Coolly and calmly he started come and directed each spurt into my face and hair and across my chest. I realised afterwards that this was designed to add to my humiliation and his dominance of me.

As I stood up, Peter looked at me and said, "Don't worry, you will get to fuck your Mother before I leave, but it will be on my terms and in front of me," he said.

"I can't, I can't fuck my Mom ever," I said.

"Oh believe me, you can and you will when I say so and you won't have to wait too long, now get out of my room, I'll shout for you when I want you again," he said.

With that I gathered my clothes and ran quickly down the single flight of stairs to my own room, to get cleaned up and reflect on what had just happened. Did he mean it about Mom?

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The Guesthouse Stories Part 2.

When Peter arrived home from his work, it was about 4pm. My Mom was in the yard tidying up and I was in the lounge reading. As soon as I heard Peter walk into the hallway, I felt a stirring in my loins. I wondered if he would be requiring me to do anything for him today. In some ways I hoped not, I hoped that yesterday's events would never be mentioned again. Another part of me however wanted him to take things further.

Peter opened the lounge door and immediately stopped me wondering. "I'm going to my room to freshen-up, be there in five minutes and don't keep me waiting," he said abruptly. With that he walked out of the room and directly upstairs. I waited a couple of minutes, with butterflies in my stomach and a sense of great excitement. I checked out of the window to ensure Mom was still in the yard and then proceeded up to the top floor of the house where Peter's room was. I knocked the door and waited.

"Come in," shouted Peter.

I slowly entered the room and firmly shut the door behind me. "Do you want it locked?" I asked.

"That's up to you," said Peter, "Do you want others to see us yet?" he added.

The 'yet' got me worried again. Peter obviously planned at some time that what was currently our secret was going to be made known to others. Did he still have my Mom in mind? I decided to lock the door and having done so asked Peter what he wanted.

"Oh, nothing special today" he said, "just a little show from you and then we will talk about your Mother." Peter sat in the single chair in the corner of his room, lit a cigarette and then told me to undress. I asked him what he wanted me to take off and he said that it was to be everything today. I removed my shirt and shoes and then unbuckled my belt and removed my pants. Having done so I stood quietly, hoping he would not demand I remove all my clothes, although he had already said everything should come off.

"The shorts aswell" he said.

I pulled my shorts to the floor and removed them. My dick was fully erect already and straining with every pumping of my heart.

"I see you like our little deal," said Peter. He then stood up removed his own pants and shorts and sat back down in his chair. I could see his dick also fully erect and glistening; he was almost ready to come for god's sake. Peter instructed that this time I lay on the floor to masturbate. I duly laid down a few feet from his chair and started to wank. Slowly at first and then gently speeding up. Peter also started to rub his own cock.

"Lift your knees and put a finger in your arse," Peter instructed. I was truly submissive to this man and enjoying every moment of it. I raised my knees to my stomach and inserted my index finger into my arse. "No finger fuck yourself while you wank," he said. Peter himself just continued to wank himself slowly and with great control. As I was becoming frantic with the lust of the situation he seemed to remain so cool and collected.

"What are you thinking of?" he said, "Are you thinking of your Mother again?" That's exactly what I was think of, my own dear, gorgeous, petite, sexy, Mom. I was imagining fucking her hard and fast. I was imagining her screams of lust as she begged me to push harder whilst at the same time exclaiming how wrong it was that her son should be fucking her. I told Peter exactly what I was thinking as I pumped harder and faster.

"I'm cumming, I'm cumming," I shouted, as I pumped a huge load of semen into the air and down onto myself. The first spurts hit my face and hair. The rest rained down onto my stomach and chest. I was covered. I started to raise myself from the floor but Peter instructed that I should remain on the floor. As yesterday he approached me and continued his own masturbation. He continued to pump his straining dick and then came in half a dozen long spurts. This time he directed it all at my crotch. My dick and balls were drenched in his spunk whilst the rest of me dribbled with my own. Once again Peter had made no attempt to touch me.

"Now stand up and put your clothes back on," he said.

"Can I clean up first?" I asked.

"No, put your clothes straight on," Peter instructed.

I put my shorts, pants and shirt back on over the top of my spunk drenched body. It was slimy and sticky as I stood in front of Peter with the mess coming through in wet patches.

Peter remained naked from the waist down and sat back down in his chair.

"Now we need to talk about your Mother," he said. "I want to see you fuck her and I know from your lust-full ranting that you want the same."

I made no attempt to pretend otherwise, but said, "There's no way I could ever make the move on Mom, what he she didn't want it, the whole thing could be a disastrous mistake."

"Don't worry," said Peter, here's what you do. "Does your Mother ever tidy your room?" he asked.

"Yeah, everyday as she does the rest of the house," I said.

"Does see know you read porn?"

"I'm sure she does but as long as I don't leave mags and vids lying around she says nothing about it," I responded as my own spunk dribbled down my face.

"Right," he said "take the incest mag I found you wanking over yesterday and make sure you leave it somewhere in your room that she will find it. You have to make sure however that you 'strike while the irons hot'. I am taking tomorrow off work so leave the mag for her tomorrow morning and let me know as soon as she finds it."

He then said that he wouldn't 'require' me anymore today,. I returned to my room with the mag which I spent the evening ready over and over whilst fantasizing about what was to come and masturbating at least three more times before I went to bed.

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The Guesthouse Stories Part 3.

The next morning I thought about what Peter had instructed me to do with the incest mag. Should I leave it for my Mom to find? What would be the consequences if she genuinely didn't approve of such material. I loved my Mom and didn't want to upset our relationship just to do what Peter instructed. However the possibility that I might get to fuck my Mom was too great an attraction. I decided that I would do as instructed.

Once I was up I carefully left the mag under my pillow with just a corner exposed. I knew my Mom would find it but the thought of her reaction made me so nervous as to nearly be sick.

Mom usually tidied the house around 10am and did my room last at about 11.00. Just before 11.00, I climbed the last flight of stairs onto the top floor from where I could look down on my bedroom door through the stair rails. From here I could also go to Peters room unnoticed.

At just gone 11.00 Mom made her way up the 1st floor stairs and into my room. Once she was inside, I quietly made my way down the small flight of stairs from the 2nd floor and peeked through the door jar into my room. Mom was generally tidying around and then vacuumed the rug. My heart was beating so fast. She then approached my bed and started to straighten the covers. As she did so I saw her catch site of the mag and take it out from under my pillow. At first she just put it on the bed. Did she think it was just another porn mag? Would she simply slide it under by bed where she must have known I kept my other mags? I couldn't believe the tension I felt.