Moms at the Beach Ch. 01 - Sex Stories

Moms at the Beach Ch. 01

I woke to the sound of Ann puttering in the kitchen. Andrew was fast asl**p. He might fuck like a man, but he still slept like a teenager. I knew I needed to talk to Ann. I put on a short robe and found her wearing skin tight shorts and a sports bra, ready for her morning jog. "Morning sl**py head. I was wondering when I'd see you. Wanna go for a run?" That sounded like a good idea. It would clear my head and be an opportunity to chat. I got my shorts, bra, and tee-shirt from my gym bag and changed. And, although I had stripped in front of Ann hundreds of times, I found I was self-conscious. Last night I had fucked her son and listened to her fuck mine, our bodies proclaiming themselves vibrant sexual instruments. Annie seemed to understand, she was also looking at me in a new way. My observation was confirmed a second later. "Well, I can certainly understand what my boy sees in you. You're fricking gorgeous." I continued to stretch, thinking about how to respond. Annie's stretch was closer to a dance; her face was joyous. "You're in a good mood." "Good mood? I'm in a great mood. I may be in the best mood of my life. I never needed a fuck more and never had a better one. Your boy's amazing. And from the way your were whooping and hollering it sounded like mine is pretty good too." She raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response. I had none; I wasn't ready to discuss her son's skills in the sack. I managed a plaintive, "Annie...," and she dropped the subject. It was about a ...

... mile into our run when I finally said what had been on my mind all morning. "We had sex with each other's k**s last night. Doesn't it bother you?" There was no concern in her eyes. I went on. "What if they tell someone?" "Well, honey, we'll just need to give 'em such high quality pussy that they'd never risk losing it by blabbing." "Ann, I'm serious." "So am I honey, so am I. Okay, when we get back to the cabin we'll talk to them." I decided to settle for this small triumph. At the three mile mark we turned around. I got into the groove, listening to the surf and sea gulls, enjoying the soft damp sand under my feet, and, also, thinking about last night. It was, in fact, impossible not to, Annie wouldn't drop the subject telling me in lascivious detail what a wonderful fuck my son was, describing how great her body felt, asking about her boy's performance, bemoaning the months we had gone without when these studs lived under our roofs. We arrived back to find the twins loading a box in their car. They were wearing bikini tops and shorts. Annie introduced us. Their names were Cindy and Lisa. My impression of the evening before was confirmed: attractive, mid-twenties, deeply tanned, athletic if not athletes. Cindy, the extrovert of the two, told us they'd rented a boat to spread their parents' ashes along the coast. Their f****y had been regular visitors to the area, but, horrifically, their parents had perished in an accident three years ago. The memories of the beach too painful, ...