The Rambler part 3 - Sex Stories

The Rambler part 3

... they're on the right sides. They may have touched us up a bit for fun, but they ended up where they belong. Right boys?" Tim and I both nodded, but Mom looked uncertain until Millie jabbed her with her elbow and we all laughed when she said, "That was the best blind date I've been on." Tim drove home and Mom and I sat in the back seat. The wine must have made her weary because she stretched her feet out and laid her head in my lap. Tim stopped on the way home to pick up some cokes and Millie turned around to face me as soon as he got out of the car. Looking down at Mom, she asked, "Is she really sl**ping?" I nodded, "I think so." Millie stretched then, arching her back in an exaggerated fashion, cupping her breasts in her hands and sliding her palms slowly up onto their fronts. "Oh, that Timmy," she sighed. "He was so rough with these." Millie dropped her hands and quickly turned to face me. "But I liked it," she said, dropping her voice to a hoarse whisper. She pinched her nipples from outside her blouse, then suddenly lurched forward as if something had pushed her sharply from behind, then jerked ahead again. Her face broke out into a big smile and she dropped her hands just as Tim approached the car. * * * * * * * I had an overwhelming need to have my mother that night. Maybe I needed to prove my love for her. I don't know, but the need was real. Dad wasn't home yet and Mom, despite her words to me that afternoon, wouldn't do anything in case he arrived. We ate a quiet ...

... meal. I could tell something was on Mom's mind and I wondered if she knew I had let Tim fuck her, and that I had fucked her friend. Dad finally got home about nine, completely bushed. He went straight to bed, telling Mom not to wake him and to call in the next morning to say he was sick. Mom said she was tired and was going to bed early too. I went upstairs but changed my mind, returning downstairs dressed only in my shorts after a brief stop in the bathroom. I sat on the couch, in the dark, and waited. It was at least half an hour before I heard Mom's door open. The light in the bathroom flashed on and off, followed by the soft pad of my mother's bare feet coming down the hallway, her dark form soon discernable in the darkness, but only barely, the creak of the stairs revealing her position as she descended the stairs. She paused by the kitchen doorway to turn on the light, disappointment flitting briefly across her face before she stepped out of my sight. The kitchen light had outlined her body under the flimsy and worn summer nightgown she was wearing, long nipples jutting into the material so hard they lifted it away from her breasts. That her nipples were so hard stiffened my cock in my shorts. She was thinking about today, about me, I was sure of it. I heard the tap running, a glass filling, then the sound of water being gulped down an eager throat. The slap of glass on the counter was followed by soft footsteps coming closer. Her body appeared, then half turned to turn ...