Our Neighbor's a Porn Star! Pt. 02

"Mom? You, too? How long?" His head spun and he sank weakly onto the couch.

"Oh, it took me about two days longer than it did you," his mother replied, her voice slightly breathy. "You aren't the only one who recognized Heather right away. And by some miracle, it seems she thinks we're both attractive."

"Very attractive," Heather confirmed. Hidden from Nate's view, she slid her palms up and down Barbara's back, the dress now open to the waist. Barb shifted back against her, her eyes slitted in pleasure.

"So...you two are sleeping together?" His face, when it turned to Heather, was stiff with shock and betrayal. "I thought you loved me!"

He lurched to his feet. Even quicker, Barbara moved forward, her hand fixing around his wrist in a steely grip, her breasts threatening to spill out of her dress. He looked away, ashamed.

"Stop."

He opened his mouth, but she lifted a hand and set it across his lips. "And listen.

"I know you're young. I know you're young and dumb. I know you're young and dumb and in love, and the one thing your tiny little male brain is capable of thinking about right now is that if I am with Heather, that means you're not. Am I right? Don't talk. Just nod."

Eyes full of hurt, he nodded, the motion jerky.

"All right. Here's a news flash, kiddo. A person can love more than one person at a time. Can you get that? Can you understand? Just because she loves me-" she cocked her head and looked at Heather. "You do love me, right?"

"So much it hurts, babe."

"Just because she loves me doesn't mean she doesn't love you, too. Idiot," she said fondly. Her free hand reached up to stroke his cheek. The motion caused her dress to shift, and he unwittingly found himself looking deep into his mother's cleavage. His face heated, and his looked aside, embarrassed.

"You could have found an easier way to tell me, though," he said, trying to keep the surly tone out of his voice. He took a deep breath, striving for balance. "But I'm happy for you, Mom. Really happy." He forced a crooked smile onto his mouth. "At least when I'm away at school I know that Heather will have someone looking out for her and keeping all the rest of the animals around here away. And God knows I've wanted you to be able to be with someone.

"But still." He gestured at Heather. "Wasn't this a little on the exhibitionist side?"

Heather's lips twitched. "Maybe. But this gift isn't for me, you big dumb ox.

"It's for you."

"Wha-"

But right then his mother faced him, looped her arms around his neck, drew down his head, and kissed him firmly on the mouth. Whatever words he might have said were lost as her tongue sneaked past his lips, invading his mouth shyly. Her lightly-clad breasts rubbed against his chest, and he heard her moan, the rumble in her chest making her quiver against him enticingly.

When they pulled apart at last, her eyes were gleaming with hectic joy. He knew his were equally wide, filled with wild surmise. "Mom," he stuttered. "What?"

She dropped a hand down between their bodies, rubbing his crotch gently. His cock, which he had almost forgotten about as he tried to come to terms with the shocking truth of the relationship between his mother and Heather, stiffened with almost painful enthusiasm.

"I want you," she whispered. Her lovely face shone as she looked up at him. "The first night Heather and I were together, the first thing I asked after we finished making love was what you were like in bed." She swallowed. "At first, I thought it was just my way of letting her know that I knew about you two. But then I realized I really wanted to know. And when she told me about you, about how wonderful you were in bed, how gentle and loving and caring...I knew I had to have you.

"If you'll have me."

"But...illegal...people...talk...won't understand..." he shook his head, unable to string three words together, let alone to come to grips with the monumental change she was proposing.

"Who cares?" Her voice was fierce. Behind her, he could see Heather give an approving nod. "Why should we live our lives based on what other people think? I did when I was married to your father. And I did it for far too long after your father left. I knew I was bisexual. I knew I wanted to know what sex was like with a woman. I knew I wasn't happy with my sex life. And I wasted it. I wasted years because I was worried about what other people thought.

"If Heather hadn't moved here, if I hadn't met her, I'd still be stuck in the same old rut. I'd be happy enough, maybe. But not as happy as I am now. And I'd still be living my life the way they wanted me to.

"News flash, kiddo. If you spend your life worried about what someone else thinks about you, you're playing by their rules. And you can't ever win.

"The big question." She shook her head. "Fuck. The only question that remains is this: Do you find me attractive, or don't you? And will you go to bed with me? And will you love me, the way you love Heather, the way she loves you, and the way we love each other?"

She paused, panting. His eyes were drawn to her cleavage, to the heaving swells of her breasts. Slowly, his arms came around her, holding her close. With a glad cry, she pressed against him, their bodies melding together into a seamless whole. His chin rested on the top of her head, his words making the shiny waves of her hair stir.

"I love you, Mom. And I think you're sexiest woman I've ever seen." Heather raised her chin, an inquiring look on her face. "Tied for first, at least," he said quickly, and she grinned at him.

"Nice save," she said. "Why don't you go to bed, make love two or three times, then come out when you're done?"

"That," Barb said, "sounds like an awesome idea." She smiled up at her son. "Ready?"

"Mom. Are you sure about this? I mean, really sure?"

She made an exasperated noise. "Why does everyone keep asking me that? Do I look like I'm eleven and don't know the difference between committing a depraved act of sexual immorality and a new puppy?

"Yes. I'm sure. Yes, I want to make love to you."

Her grip on his wrist tightened. "Yes."

"Ooh," said Heather excitedly, bouncing on the sofa. "This is where Ralphie beats up the bully! This is my favorite part!"

*****

He closed his mother's bedroom door gently behind him. The sound of the TV and Heather's happy squeals faded away.

With a minimum of fuss, his mother slipped out of the dress, letting it pool at her feet. She stepped away from the circle of cloth on the floor and smiled at him. "Ready?"

He shook his head. "I don't know." His stomach clenched nervously as he took in her form. With the dress gone, she wore only white lace panties, a bra, and tastefully conservative low-heeled shoes. Through the lace, he could see hints of her body that he had never dared to dream about before -- the dark circles of her areolae, a hint of close-trimmed pubic hair, the merest suggestion of the damp cleft between her legs. "Why?"

She smiled more deeply. "A better question is -- why not? Why not do the things that make us happy. You. Me. Heather. Together." She sighed in happy anticipation. "Doesn't that sound wonderful?"

"It sounds like something you'd see on Cinemax at one in the morning," he answered honestly. "One of those shows where the pizza delivery guy opens the door to find a group of horny sorority girls."

"Hah. As if a bunch of sorority girls know anything about making a man happy." She came up to him and ran her hands under the hem of his sweatshirt. Not a mother's touch. But a lover's. "My man." Her voice was low, though her eyes gleamed in the light of the candles she had lit. She stroked the planes of his chest, waking deep, primal urges.

His cock was a throbbing bar of steel in his jeans. He could feel it pounding, in time with his heartbeat. He wanted to throw her on the bed, tear off the wisp of lace around her hips, and bury himself in her. She wanted it. He could tell. Wanted him.

Instead, he held her close as she grew acquainted with his body. She pulled the sweatshirt over his head impatiently and dropped it to the floor and held him close, her hands running up and down his back. The feeling made him tremble. At any moment, he expected the door to crash open and the Rapid City PD to burst in, clap a set of handcuffs on him, and take him away to some horrible pound-me-in-the-ass prison.

"Four years," Barbara whispered, pulling away from him. One hand rested on his crotch. "Four years, three months, and eleven days. That's how long it's been since I've been with a man." She moved her hands to the button of his jeans, unsnapping it with practiced ease. She knelt with unconscious grace, pulling his jeans to the floor. "Oh, honey," she sighed, as his prick came into view, though still hidden from full sight by his boxers. She rubbed her cheek against its steely length. "I can't wait." She pulled the waistband of his boxers down.

He realized he was shaking from excitement. "What do you like?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

She looked up at him, her eyes shining. "I like cock," she replied. She stroked his dick, her fingers curling around him. "It's been so long since I've had a man inside me, honey. Filling me up." He watched, fascinated, as her chest began to rise and fall more rapidly. The dark brown nubs of her nipples thickened, growing hard and erect. "We can do all of the rest of it later, when we have more time. God, we aren't going to have anything but time for the next couple weeks, now that school's out!" Her voice rose. "And spring break and summer vacation until you leave for college, and all those weekends when you come home.

"I want you to show me everything you learned from Heather. I want you to eat me out, and sixty-nine, and I want to suck you off and jack you off and feel your hot young boy-come dripping down my chest after you explode in my hands. And we're going to do it doggie-style and cowgirl and reverse cowgirl and fuck, we just might invent a few positions."

As she spoke, she rose, and pulled Nate towards the bed. He went along willingly, feeling slightly foolish as his dick bobbed in front of him, as if it were some sort of divining-rod, guiding him towards the nearest source of sex.

His mother lay down on the bed, her legs slightly spread, her knees just a little raised. Her thighs formed a welcome cradle for his body. "Come here, honey," she husked, her voice deep and raspy. The corners of her eyes were wet. "Come to you mother." A weak smile quivered on her lips. "Come in your mother."

He joined her on the bed, kneeling above her. He made an abortive motion towards his groin. "What about...protection?" he asked tentatively. "I don't know if you feel like being a mom again, but I don't think I'm ready to be a dad yet."

She reached out and tugged at his wrist, drawing him lower. "You're sweet. No," she continued. "Just because I wasn't dating anyone didn't mean I ever went off birth control. I'm still on the pill." She shrugged. Nate was hard put to it to keep his eyes on her face, rather than the wonderful, quivering mass of her breasts. "You never know when you'll get lucky." She fixed him with a stern look, which he thought in that corner of his mind still capable of rational thought, was a hard thing to do stark naked. "Let that be a warning to you. I don't expect you to come back home some weekend with the news that I'm going to be a grandmother. I'm not ready for that yet."

He shook his head. "You are enough for me, Mom."

"Really? What about the porn star in our living room, watching movies and giggling her sweet little ass off?"

"You," he said, "can be plural." And kissed her.

*****

It's been too long, Barbara thought, her mind in a sensual haze.

She held her son close to her, her fingers laced through his hair. He was careful, oh, so careful! But she could sense the rising tide of passion and desire, held in check by an iron will. Dimly, she recognized it as the twin to her own. When Ray had left her and Nate alone, she had channeled her anger and fury into her professional life, making North Star Realty a force to be reckoned with. Her son, no less betrayed by that abandonment, had never found an outlet for that injustice.

Until now. In some dim corner of her mind, she wondered how much of his desire for her was an urge to pay back the man who had left his only child without even a word of farewell. Who could not live with the fact that his wife might have sexual desires he could never satisfy.

I'll ask him later. Not now. Now is for us.

She nibbled at his lips, opening her mouth wide, inviting his entrance. When his tongue plunged in, she moaned, accepting the welcome invader, arching her back eagerly as her nipples scraped across the dusting of blonde hair on his chest. The sensation on her breasts was exquisite, and she spread her thighs wide, inviting him into her secret core.

But he made no move to enter her. Her hands left his hair, roaming down his back, until they clenched the rock-hard muscles of his ass, kneading his buttocks eagerly. She pulled him in towards her, but still he resisted. His hips stayed tantalizingly close, but hovered above her aching loins teasingly.

Well, if he won't do one, maybe he'll do the other. "My breasts," she whispered, then cleared her throat. "My breasts," she said again, more loudly, not caring who might hear. She cupped one in her hand, raising it like an offering. "Kiss them, please, honey?"

She didn't need to ask twice. He lowered his head, nuzzling the twin orbs on her chest. She caught her breath as his lips brushed them for the first time. Then she truly realized what Heather had meant. Slowly, carefully, he began to kiss them. Circling in a spiral pattern, he worked his way from the inner curve of her right breast, all the way to her pulsing nipple, taking the hot, heavy nub in his mouth, suckling and licking and flicking it with his tongue, before repeating the process on its twin. Over and over, until her breasts were wet with his saliva, gleaming in the candlelight, and she thought she would go mad with frustrating longing.

She could not count the time in minutes, but it seemed like an eternity. All she could do was close her eyes and gasp and moan with pleasure, the place between her legs feeling like a fevered swamp, so hot and wet it was.

"Please, Nate."

"Please, what?" he asked, lifting his mouth from her nipple yet again. His hips sank a little lower, until his beautiful shaft lay like a brand on the skin of her belly, burning her without pain.

"I want you," she said, her hips rolling up helplessly, no longer under her control. "Inside me. Please, baby, fill me up!"

He smiled and kissed her neck, his breath tickling her ear. She hooked her ankles around his thighs and tried to pull him in. Her legs spread lewdly, unashamed. She knew she looked like a complete wanton, her mind separated from her body, trembling with need, but she didn't care. The night, the magical night, filled with love and desire, had swept away what remnants of restraint she might have had.

"Nathaniel Christopher Shroyer," she gritted at last, from between her clenched teeth, "if you don't stick that wonderful pecker of yours in me right fucking now, I am going to ground your ass. Which means you don't get to screw me, and you don't get to screw Heather. Comprende?"

He pulled back, his eyes wide. "I mean it," she said.

*****

Sliding into his mother was like dipping his dick into an incredible oil. Hot and wet, her sheath surrounded him, terrifyingly intimate, clutching his rod as he entered her.

He finished his first stroke, the nest of pubic hair at his groin melded against her puffy outer lips. He looked down, as if to reassure himself that what he was experiencing was actually real. "Are you okay? I'm not...I'm not hurting you, am I? Not too big?"

His mother bit her lip, her eyes filled with a mad, hectic gleam. She looked, Nate thought with sudden clarity, the way ancient Roman generals must have, burning their bridges behind them as they marched on the imperial city.

And she didn't give a fuck.

"It'd take a man a bit bigger than you to hurt me, baby," she whispered. She cradled his cheeks in her hands, drawing him down for a long, loving kiss. "Which isn't a bad thing," she continued, wriggling her hips. She sighed. "Yeah. That's the right angle. Right. There. You fill me up so nice. Just like Heather said you would."

He gulped. "You talked about me?"

"Less talky, more screwy, baby," she replied, pushing at his hips. "Better," she moaned, as he started to slide in and out of her. Her hands dipped down to where their bodies met, her fingers coming away wet. She raised them and licked their mingled essences from her fingers. "So good. You and me, baby. Of course we talked about you," she replied to his look of consternation. "If I was going to fuck my own son, the least I could do was make sure you were good in bed. Otherwise, what's the point? If I wanted a lousy lay, there's about ten thousand men in this town I could choose."

"So...she said I was good?"

"No."

He could feel his face fall.

"She said you were fucking fantastic.

"But I'm not her," she went on. "Every woman is different." She drew him down for a passionate kiss, their tongues doing battle. She nipped at his lips, almost hard enough to draw blood. He pulled away in surprise, and saw a fey light in her eyes. "Sometimes I like it a little rough," Barbara said. Her nails pricked in the skin of his scalp. "Like now." Her thighs clamped around his hips.

"Fuck me, Nate. Fuck me hard."

"Are you su-"

She gripped the back of his head in her hand, his hair pulling painfully. When he looked down at her, he saw her lips had pulled away from her teeth.

"Fuck. Me. Hard."

Trained by years, her mom-voice had him obeying instantly. He lowered down, kissing her harshly, and his strokes sped to a hard, slapping rhythm. One hand gripped her wrist, stretching it up over her head, and he pounded down on her, on his mother, driving his cock into her with force enough to bruise.

Her reaction stunned him. On every stroke, her hips snapped up, her pubis striking his groin, hard and quick. After thirty pumps or so, her clawed hands began to clutch his back, and he could feel her channel spasm around his thrusting cock. "Oh, God, Nate. Oh, God. Gonna cum. Gonna cum all over your dick. Come with me, baby. Cum with meeeeeeee!!" she shrieked, her body spasming in his arms. He felt his cock clutched in a velvet vise, its slippery clutch enough to make him spend himself inside her, his phallus bursting as he came to the most intense orgasm of his life, painting his mother's vaginal walls with a river of his semen.

*****

"Good morning," Heather said, early on Christmas morning, as Barb walked into the kitchen. She handed her a mug of coffee.

"Yes, it is." The smile Barb gave her was like Satan's honey, dark and sweet. "I got to say, I'm kind of surprised you didn't invite yourself in. I expected it."

The blond woman shook her head. "It wouldn't have been right. You and I got to know each other without Nate there. And he and I got together without your help. Why should I butt in?"

"He wouldn't have minded," she pointed out. "Hell, he might have welcomed it. Poor kid couldn't get it up the fifth time. And I tried." She gave a mock pout and hugged her lover.

"Thank you," she whispered into her hair. "I'd have never been brave enough, if I hadn't known you were there with me.

"Are you going to stay and open the rest of the presents with us? There might be one or two surprises," she said, her voice wheedling. "Especially for a little girl who's been very naughty."