Peter, Paul and Mary - Sex Stories

Peter, Paul and Mary

... mother."

I managed to fall forward and at the same time roll over so I could sit. I knew I would drip onto my skirt. I didn't care, it would wash. I haven't had a man's sperm drip from me in a very long time, and I had forgotten how it was both mildly uncomfortable, at the same time as being fantastic.

We all sat in the lounge that evening and watched some TV. Around nine thirty Peter said, "Oh dad, you're sleeping in the guest room from now on."

"What, why, what are you talking about Peter?" Paul asked.

"Well, you have neglected your duties where mum is concerned. I am stepping up, I shall sleep with mum, you can sleep in the guest room. Mum, go on up, I shall follow shortly."

"Peter don't be ridiculous," Paul said and looked across at me, "Mary, say something."

"The bedding is clean in the spare room, I changed it this afternoon."

"You what?" He looked at me with thunder on his face.

I took a deep breath, Peter had surprised me with his words, but he was right. "You have ignored my needs. You have rebuffed me. Even if parts of you no longer work there are plenty of other ways you could use to give me pleasure, to show me that you still love me and care for my wants. You don't bother. Peter heard what happened last night and this morning took matters into his own hands. Well, not exactly hands."

"But," Paul stuttered.

"No buts Paul. Peter will do what you obviously no longer wish to do. To all intents and ...

... purposes you are still head of the house, but Peter is now man of the house."

"You are fucking joking Mary," Paul said.

"Dad, you have two choices, physically love mum, or put up with someone else stepping into your shoes, well, pants. At least this way, with it being me, mum isn't having an affair with someone and then filing for divorce."

I felt there was nothing more to say. I stood and went upstairs. I slipped my clothes off and folded them onto my chair. Cleaned my teeth in the ensuite and then sponge washed myself to ensure I was clean. As I walked out of the ensuite Peter was just shutting the bedroom door behind him. I walked naked before him, not self-conscious, not embarrassed, but excited for what lay ahead. "Ensuite is free Peter," I said, I didn't think calling him 'son' was quite right. I pulled the quilt back and lay on the bed, pulling the quilt back over me, but leaving my breasts exposed. I watched through the door as Peter washed his genitals and then cleaned his teeth before turning the light off and coming to bed. He got in on Paul's side and turned to me.

"Come here beautiful," he said. I turned and fell into his arms, his lips crushing mine as we embraced, a hand held my breast and gently squeezed a nipple. This is what I needed. This is what I now had. I could feel his hardness as it pressed against me and my heart swelled with love and pride for my son, and then my vagina swelled as my son entered it.