Sorry it took me a while to get this one posted, and thanks to everyone for your patience. I hope this measures up to the earlier chapters. Please remember to vote, comment and most of all, enjoy!
Life in the Amren home settled into new routine that differed substantially from the previous routine in only two ways. The first was how everyone dressed. Susan wore tank tops and t-shirts as she always did, although they were always the older, more see-through ones and they were paired with yoga pants that revealed the lace patterns on her panties, or the obvious lack of panties, when she bent over. She wore shorts that would have been thought to be too short for a woman of her age outside of the house, but which showed off her legs and her ass to great advantage. If she was wearing something else it was showing skin that had until recently remained hidden, and she rarely wore a bra. Everyone enjoyed watching her nipples through whatever top she wore, and she enjoyed the audience.
Around the house, River was always dressed as herself. She had even started dressing, albeit subtly, when she went into the office. Nothing earth shaking: a bit of makeup, fitted women's jeans and a blouse, a touch of jewelry. Just enough to make her feel more like herself without having to explain it to everyone who looked her way. She had experimented a bit but decided that Mark was right, and she looked better in slimmer, more modern styles. Around the house this meant that, like Susan, River tended to wear shorts and yoga pants that emphasized her legs and ass, and paired them with crop tops, tops with plunging necklines, or exposed backs. She took extra joy in wearing tops that were just loose enough to show off flashes of her bra when someone happened to catch her at just the right moment. As much as river enjoyed the audience though, she struggled to enjoy it as freely as Susan did, often vacillating between brazen exhibitionism and ultra conservative modesty.
Even Rachel had changed the way she dressed. She no longer hid in baggy, over-sized clothes that made her look like a potato and now favored fitted clothes that showed off her mid-century beauty when out or when getting ready to go out including flowing dresses and tops that allowed her to show off her cleavage. Around the house she had started wearing form fitting clothes taking her cues for what was considered acceptable from her mother, but never quite daring to go as far. Her clothes were never quite as see through, her pants and shorts never quite as tight, and she always wore a bra, but she made every effort to touch, brush up against, and feel everyone in the family, including River. Rachel would go to bed in such a heat of lusty frenzy over the glimpses and touches that she had to gag herself when she masturbated; while this started out as an occasional event, it quickly turned into a nightly ritual.
Even Mark had changed up his routine and his wardrobe. He took longer to get dressed, walked around the house in tight t-shirts and made less effort to be discreet as he walked around in his tight, low cut boxer briefs. Mark stopped being careful when he closed doors behind him; started meditating in just his boxers, and though he was unaware of the vent that Rachel could use to watch him in the shower, he made a point of putting on a show for anyone who might walk past the partly open bathroom door. A fact that River and Susan both enjoyed, until they were awkwardly having conversations outside the bathroom while Mark showered. Rachel enjoyed herself from the privacy of her room, although she was careful not to enjoy herself too much lest her brother hear her pleasure.
The second change to the Amren routine was that Mark was tired of sleeping alone. He was always careful to go his own room at night. He was always careful not to fall asleep in his mother's bed or to let her fall asleep in his. He didn't want the twins to find out that way, but he was growing restless. The beast was a patient hunter, and it was willing to wait for the right opportunity to catch Rachel and River, but it hungered for more from Mama. Lucky for him, this was the kind of thing that Mothers notice about their sons.
Mark lay in bed, unable to sleep. It was the night before his graduation ceremony, and he wasn't sure he wanted to go, but that wasn't what kept him awake. He had contemplated sneaking into his mom's room, but it was still early, and River or Rachel might be awake. He wasn't sure. He wasn't even sure he was thinking about going to his mom's bed for sex. He just wanted to be with her. He wanted to hold her and smell her hair. He wanted to feel the slight sheen of sweat on her skin that she always got no matter how light and easy their lovemaking. He wanted to smell her lingering arousal after they had brought each other to comfortable orgasms. He wanted to hold his woman in his arms and watch her sleep until the birds woke her up.
Mark heard a sound. Someone was walking around the house. His door, as it always was these days, was open just enough that someone could look in and see him on the bed. He closed his eyes. Was it Rachel? River? Mama? It didn't matter. Either way he knew what he was going to do. The Beast was suddenly hungry, and it was going to lay a trap for whatever little birdie strayed its way.
Eyes closed, he put his left hand, the hand closest to the door, behind his head. With his right, he started to tease his cock into hardness. He groaned, partly in show, partly in real desire for whoever was out there to see him. He remembered Mama playing with herself in the car and emulated her. He took his time running his fingers through his hair, down his neck and over his chest. He grabbed his thighs and teased his cock gently, careful not to get too close or go too far. He wasn't just teasing himself; he was teasing his watcher.
Movement at the door.
He had her. Whoever she was, Mark had her. He lifted one knee, partially obscuring the growing bulge in his boxers and reached down on that side to grab his ass, as his free hand teased his perineum and balls. He rocked his hips against his hands, alternately thrusting his ass down into his grip, or his cock up to rub against the palm of his hand. When the precum started to stick to his wrist, he pulled his boxer's down, and he heard a familiar sigh from the door.
Mama was watching. Now that he knew his audience, he played up the scene he knew she was hoping for.
Lying flat on his back, he played with his cock in long, leisurely strokes and put his left hand behind his head again. He wanted her to see. He wanted to know that Mama was watching him play with his cock as his fingers trailed up and down his nine-inch shaft. He wanted to know she was hungry for him and he gripped his entire girth and squeezed a little bit of precum out. Then he groaned just loud enough for her to hear.
"Oh Mama. Oh that's so good Mama. Your mouth feels so good on my cock." He licked his hand, tasting his precum before letting the now slippery palm slide down his shaft. "Yeah Mama. Just like that."
He heard the gentle click of his door closing. "Is that any way to talk about your Mama."
Mark snapped open his eyes and sat up in bed as if he had been surprised. He pulled the sheet over him. Mama stood by the door, lit only by the faint streetlight coming in from the window. She was wearing her usual bathrobe, although it was tied so loosely that the top half barely covered her breasts while the bottom teased him with barely concealed shadows between her long legs.
Mark knew that his role here was that of the young, inexperienced boy caught masturbating and that he was supposed to stammer and stare and get all flustered, but he didn't have to act. His Mother was beautiful and incredibly sexy and even though he already knew, even though he had already tasted and taken her, it still took his breath away. He soaked in the sight of her exposed cleavage. He drank in the hint of the secret between her legs. Surely there had never been a more beautiful woman in the history of the world.
"Well?" She crossed her arms when he didn't say anything and her breasts nearly spilled out of her bathrobe. Mark was willing to be that the only reason he couldn't see her nipples, was that they were so hard, the fabric had caught on them. "Aren't you going to say anything?" Mama prompted.
"Sorry Mama," Mark managed. "You're just so beautiful."
She smiled at him. "You really think so?"
Mark nodded.
"Do you masturbate thinking about all the pretty girls? Or just your Mama?"
"Just you," he said. He thought about adding something about fantasizing about his siblings, but the mood wasn't right. This wasn't about the family; this was about a boy and his mama. He kept his mouth shut but let his right-hand drift to his cock that was tenting the sheets. He stared at her and her deliberately teasing pose. He watched her, completely spell bound, and started playing with his cock through the sheet covering him.
Mama watched his hand as he played with his cock in front of her. "And when you think of me, what am I doing?" She closed the distance between them until she stood right in front of him. She was close enough that he could smell her arousal. He wanted to pull her close to him and dive down into her sweet depths. He wanted to pin her to the bed and fuck her until she couldn't speak a coherent sentence. He wanted to hold her and make love to her for hours. He didn't do any of those things, not yet, at least. For now he was content to play the game his woman wanted.
"Just now, I was imagining you on your knees, your marvelous lips around my cock."
"On my knees?" Mama asked as she got down to her knees. "Like this?"
