Chapitre 148: A Complete Education Ch.03
b
I woke up thinking about the fight. Before last night, I hadn't fought anyone—not in the physical sense of the word—since fifth grade. And my mother and I had ended up wrestling. And not in the WWE sense of the word, but like amateur wrestling, with the constant embrace and struggle for control. I was ashamed to have fought her. I was even more ashamed to have been turned on by her close, tense body. But things had changed with my mother ever since the night I saw her and Ms Magunderson.
I got dressed and went downstairs, tempted to slip out the front door, and avoid my mother. But she heard me, and called out cheerfully: "Hey Sean."
"Hi mom," I said.
"I made you some breakfast."
"Great." It seemed like we were just going to pretend that last night hadn't happened. I sat down at the table, and helped myself to some bacon and pancakes. No, this was different. My mother never made breakfast for me on a weekday. She sat down at the table and poured herself some orange juice.
"So we need to talk about last night."
I just continued eating, since it was easier than talking.
"I have to apologize. I was grumpy. I had a bad day," she said, fidgeting with her fork in the silence that followed. "And, I guess it's hard for me to accept that you're growing up and sometime soon you'll move out. I've had issues with trust since your father left."
"Yeah, I'm sorry too. I hope I didn't hurt you."
"No, of course not," she said, drinking her orange juice. "I want you to know that I'm actually really happy that you've got a girl in your life. I'd like to meet her."
I thought of the huge lie that Vernon had concocted for me: that the woman I was showing up at college with was actually my lover. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."
"Well, if you want me to stay out of that part of your life, that's fine too."
"Mom, I've got a big problem," I said, making up my mind to come clean with the lie. She reached across and put a hand on sympathetically on mine. "One of my friends saw me arrive at school with you, and was wondering who you are, and then Vernon started this rumour that you were my girlfriend."
"Oh. Aren't I a little old?"
"Well, they thought you were around 28."
"And don't you have this other girlfriend? Why do you need to pretend?"
"Well, Vernon's idea is that it would make Morag—that's my girlfriend—jealous and feel more attracted to me. Pretty stupid idea."
"Well, Vernon's right about that: sometimes a woman doesn't know she's attracted to a man until she sees that man with another woman. But yeah, it's a stupid idea to pretend that I'm your girlfriend."
"Yeah, that's what I thought, but it's gone so far that I'm not sure I can do anything about it. I feel like it's all out of my control."
"Well, I'm not sure about what advice I can give you."
"Yeah, I just needed to tell someone, because I feel bad about it. I never meant to use you."
"No, I know you didn't, honey. The opposite sex, or sometimes even the same sex, make us do things we don't mean to. If you need to lie, you do it. Don't worry about me."
I smiled at her, relieved that she understood. "Thanks, mom."
"Now eat your breakfast or we're going to be late."
I felt at peace, as we drove to school. One of my two big problems seemed solved, at least somewhat: while I still felt guilty about lying to Morag, at least there would be less chance of being found out. Of course, I still had a tremendous crush on my mother, but I could deal with that.
She pulled up infront in the loading zone. "Any of your friends around?" she asked.
"No," I said, doing a quick glance over my shoulder. "No, wait, there's Oscar."
"Where?"
I pointed to where Oscar was walking across the parking lot, coming in our general direction.
"Okay, give me a kiss," mom said. I didn't think anything of it, as we gave each other a little peck on the cheek most mornings. But as I turned to her, she planted her open lips over mine.
"Play along," she whispered. "I'm doing this for you."
I opened my mouth, my heart beating painfully. I could feel her breath, her lubricious lips.
"Okay, have a good day," she said, breaking the kiss. She smiled warmly at me, a motherly smile. I tried my best to give a sonly smile back, then slipped out of my car.
Oscar was waiting for me by the revolving door. "Dude, she's so hot. You've got to introduce us sometime."
I shrugged, uninterested. "I'm late for class."
"Better wipe the lipstick off. You look totally gay."
I raised my hand to my mouth, and rubbed my lips, then looked at the red stain on my hands. My mother's lipstick. God.
Any other class and I would have skipped out, gone to the washroom, and masturbated. But Ms Magunderson didn't tolerate lateness. I ran through the halls toward the English department, catching the door just as Ms Magunderson was closing it from within. She gave me a frown, but to my relief, didn't say anything. I had a hard time concentrating on Magunderson's class at the best of times. With her tight skirts, white blouses, horn-rimmed glasses and tousled black hair, any guy would be distracted. Some of the girls, too. But today, I couldn't even concentrate on her body. Her body I had seen naked, next to my mother's. Instead, my thoughts went to that latter woman, my mother. We had fought, and we had kissed, like lovers. We had kissed where others had seen us. How great was the threat of discovery? What hung in the balance of our secret? Beyond Vernon, none of my university aquantances had met my mother. And I had met none of her colleagues. We had different last names, since my mother had never changed her's from her maiden name, so we could probably not worry about anyone piecing things together. No doubt she meant nothing sexual by the kiss. No doubt she's merely trying to patch things up after the fight, doing whatever a mother can to earn her son's forgiveness. But what if part of her enjoyed it? What if part of her thrilled at the kiss, as so much of me did? I shook the thoughts back to gorgeous Ms Magunderson just in time:
"Now, Byatt's title is not the first book to play on the anagram of insect and incest. Can anyone tell me another book? Sean?"
I tried to come up with an intelligent response, despite the salacious and appropriate subject of the question.
"Ummm, I'm really not sure."
"I well-read young man such as yourself? Surely you must be able to form a reasonable guess." I felt myself blushing as she sauntered over to the desk. She loved to make her students squirm, and I was completely pinned beneath her gaze. I heard Julie, the girl who sat to my left, giggle.
"Cider House Rules?"
"No."
"The Shipping News?" I guessed, trying to name books that I knew to contain incest. "Think more literary."
"Ada or Ardour?"
"See, I knew you'd be able to form an intelligent guess. I had hoped that since it's the next book on our cirriculum, some eager student had already read that far. But I guess we'll start in on that next week. You should read the first 120 pages by then. Sean, would you mind staying after class? The rest of you can leave."
Their leaving was as rats from a sinking ship, quiet and efficient. Ms Magunderson smiled politely as she watched them go, closed the door behind the last, and locked it. Then she turned to me, walked to the desk immediately in front ot it, and sat down on it, crossing her legs and setting her feet upon the chair.
"Now Sean, I received a curious call from your mother last night."
"Oh?" I said, hoping that this wasn't leading where I thought it was.
"It would seem that you told your mother that I told you that she and I had a sexual relationship. Is that true?" Her manner was poisonously sweet.
"It's actually not exactly true," I said.
"Oh?"
"She asked me if you told me, and I said that it didn't matter."
"Ah, I see." She drummed her fingers on the desktop. "A little misunderstanding. You can go then."
I stood up and started toward the door.
"Although my question would be, then, how did you know?"
"Sorry?"
"You told your mother that you knew that we were having an affair, and she asked if I told you, and you said it didn't matter."
"Correct," I said, beginning to sweat.
"So how did you know we had a relationship?"
I didn't say anything. Ms Magunderson rarely asked a question without already knowing the answer, and I could see her working it out. "You saw us, didn't you, you little pervert. When was it? When we were out in the car? Or that time in the shower? Or when we were on the couch? Or—" she caught something in my face that gave me away. "On the couch? That time? With the shampagne bottle? Where were you, at the top of the stairs?"
I shook my head.
"Tell me where," she command, her voice rising almost to a yell.
"Behind the couch."
"Oh my god, you are a little pervert. Were you back there masturbating while your mother and I fucked? God, that disgusts me." She shifted her legs, and I couldn't help looking down. "Sit down," she said, and I started to sit in the chair closest to me, the one that happened to be closest to the door.
"Not there, over here," she said, pointing to the chair infront of her. Again, I did as she asked.
"This may be hard for you to understand, but I love your mother. In the the sense of an errant fling, but in the sense of real, deep, comantic love. Like I've never loved another person. And I'll be damned if you screw it up or do anything to turn her against me."
I nodded dumbly, as she stood, stepped forward, and then slid onto my desk, her legs dangling off the side. "However, since you're going to do what I say, and help things work out between her and I, I suppose I can make it worth your while," she said, and unbuttoned the top button of her blouse. "Do you understand what I mean by that?"
I was pretty sure I understood, but I couldn't stand to admit it.
"By worth your while, I mean blow your fucking mind." She swung her legs around, one suddenly on either side of me, her skirt hiked up above the tops of her stockings.
The door rattled, someone trying to get in, and I started to rise, but Ms Magunderson didn't even flinch. She put her hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down into my seat.
"Wow, that's a lot to think about," I said. "Can I have some time to think about it?"
"There's nothing for you to think about. This isn't a negotiation," she said, unbuttoning a couple more buttons. Her shirt hung open down to her skirt, and I could see her white bra beneath, and where it deftly sculpted her cleavage together into two gently touching orbs.
"You like my breasts?" she asked, reaching her hand inside her shirt, and I looked away.
"Don't look away. Do you like my breasts?"
"Yes," I stammered, looking back at them.
"Good. You like to watch me touch them?"
"Yes," I admitted, the word coming easier this time.
"Yeah, you like to watch, you pervert. You ever done more than just watched? You ever fucked, Sean?"
I opted for honesty, and shook my head.
"Oh? You're a virgin? Your mother was right. That's a rarity at your age. You aren't saying that just to turn me on?"
"No."
"Have you kissed a girl?"
"Yes," I said, my thoughts going back to my mother this morning.
"How much have you done?" she asked, her hand working her left breast more actively.
"Ummm, I've made out. I've been between a woman's breasts."
"Like a titfuck?"
"Uh, yeah. And I've had a handjob, And a bit of oral." I said, embarrassed enough by what I said to elaborate and say that all of that had happened within the last 48 hours.
"That's all good, but it's not fucking. What do you say, Sean? How'd you like to lose that pesky virginity right here and now?"
I was floored. I couldn't believe this was all happening. It was too much, too fast for me to comprehend.
"Go ahead, stick your hand up my skirt," she gasped, pulling her shirt wider open, then shrugging her bra-straps down. Each of her hands slipped inside one of those wide bra-cups. I did as she asked, sliding my fingers up the inside of her thigh, very gently, cautiously. I felt her panties, silky and moist, and stroked them gently.
"Don't be a fucking pussy," she sneered.
"Sorry," I said, drawing my hand away.
"No, put your hand back," she said, taking my wrist with both her hands and pulling my hand up into her crotch. "There's a time for being gentle, but this isn't it. Molest me. Mmmm, that's better," she moaned as pulled her panties to the side and pushed the flat of my hand against her moist quim.
"You're a virgin, you've got years of pent up lust. Use it. How old are you, nineteen?"
"Yeah," I moaned, barely hearing her.
"I already had my fifty mission cap when I was your age. I fucked so much. But I did it just for the sake of fucking. I liked the idea of it. But my body didn't work as well as it does now. Get your fingers inside me. I'm a well-oiled fucking machine, now."
"Uh," I articulated, staring back at her breasts.
"Your cock is hard, isn't it?"
"Yeah."
"Take it out. No, keep that hand inside me," she said wrapping her thighs tightly around my hand. "Keep fingerfucking me."
I did as she instructed, using my left hand to unfasten my belt, my right hand still lodged inside her.
"Yeah, that's nice. Not bad at all," she said, looking down at my cock as it emerged from my pants. "There's something about raw, virgin cock. You know how lucky you are? Most guys lose their virginity to some awkward, fumbling girl. But not you, you lucky little pervert."
I moaned.
"You like that? You like it when I call you a pervert?"
I nodded, unsure of why the word got me turned on.
She adjusted her glasses. "Cause that what you are, a little perverted momma's boy who gets hot for the authority figures in his life. His momma and his teacher. I bet you like lady cops, too, huh? Or lady doctors or nurses? And nuns?"
I nodded. She had me pegged.
"Yeah, probably has to do with you coming from a broken household," she said, reaching down and wrapping her hand around my cock. "Yeah, there's a lot of guys with those types of fantasies. But how many had a teacher as hot as me, and how many got to fuck her?"
She stood suddenly, hooked her fingers under her panties, pulled them down to the floor and stepped out of them, then harshly pushed the desk out of the way, then pulled my trousers and my shorts down around my knees.
"Maybe I should make you eat me, first. Would you like that? To eat my pussy?"
I nodded.
"Say it."
"I'd like that."
"You'd like what? Say it."
"I want to eat your pussy."
"Want?"
"Need. I need to eat you."
"That's better. If you need to, then I guess I'd better let you."
She straddled me, then hooked one leg over my shoulder, her high-heel sticking down between my back and the chair, her pussy pressing in against my face. I moaned, and stuck out my tongue, licking at her clit.
"Don't just tease me, eat me. If I wanted someone gentle, I would have asked Julie to stay. Perverts shouldn't be gentle."
I immediately remembered the previous week. She had asked Julie to stay after class. Was this what they were doing? When I thought about it, it wasn't the first time she asked Julie to stay. I pushed my whole face against her pussy, feeling her juices against my nose, stinging my eyes, mixing with my saliva.
"Mmmm, that's hot," she said, humping against me. "Yeah, I like fucking your face. Fucking your big nose," she said as her lips spread open against me. "Now lick my clit," she said, pressing her finger against it as a visual aid, though I had to lean back enough to see where she was indicating. I tilted my head further back and began licking.
"Yeah, fuck your slutty teacher."
"Oh yeah, you're such a slut," I moaned.
"What did you say?" she said, stepping back from me.
"Nothing," I mumbled.
"No, you called me a slut, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"That's good. That's the first dirty thing you've said all day." She pressed her pussy against my face again.
"It's good to talk dirty. I love talking dirty. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's people who limit their vocabulary, either to . Copulate can be a dirty word, if you say it right. Or mate. As in, I'm about to mate with my best friend's son."
I moaned.
"I'm a slut. What else?"
"Huh?"
"What other words, beside slut."
"Whore?" I called up from beneath her gyrating hips.
"Uh huh," she moaned. "What else?"
"Bitch?"
"Yeah."
"Tramp. Strumpet. Prostitute. Courtesan."
"I like that one. So proper. More, baby."
"Harlot. Filthy cunt."
"Oh!" She reached down behind her back and grasped me in her hand, sliding her pussy down over my shirt as she did so. She lowered herself until her pussy rested just against the head of my cock.
"A man is forever owned by the woman who claims his virginity. And you're mine." She plunged down, and my cock flared up inside her. I closed my eyes, then opened them to find her eyes only inches from my own. "I think you'll find it's not such a bad thing to be owned. To be a possession. I take care of my possessions." She lifted up, and plunged down again, harder this time, not stopping but bouncing back up.
"Yeah, that's a nice phallus. So thick and hard," she arched her back, and led my mouth to those breasts. I raised a hand to one breast, while I sucked on the other, sucking as much as I could into my mouth, then closed my teeth against her nipple. I couldn't believe how good it felt: the heat of her quim wrapped around me, working up and down on me.
"Imagine if your mother found out that we fucked. Imagine if she walked in on us right now."
"I'd fuck her too," I said, feeling liberated by Ms Magunderson's pussy.
"Oh yeah, that's so nasty. Make her eat my pussy while you fuck her hard?"
"Yeah. Then make her suck my balls while I fuck you."
"Oh god, Sean." She reached down behind her back and stroked my balls as she slipped up and down. "You can tease my ass." She said it pleadingly, and I understood now how the tables were turning. I reached around and squeezed her ass, slipped a finger down to her stretched pussy, and coated it with her juices, then slipped it back up to her asshole, and pressed.
"Oh, be gentle," she cooed.
"I'm not gentle. I'm a pervert." I slipped my finger in a couple inches, to the second joint, and she cried out loudly, then buried her head in my shoulder, whimpering. Was it painful for her? Or just really intense? She kept riding.
"You like that, you whorish teacher? You like my finger in your ass?"
She moaned.
"Say it."
"I love it, I love your finger in my ass."
"Yeah, you love being sodomized by my finger," I said, attempted to say it firmly even as my voice cracked.
"I'm gonna cum," she moaned, throwing one of her legs over my shoulder to plunge down even deeper against me. She kissed me for the first time, a gentle, passionate kiss, and I slipped my tongue into her mouth. "Oh yes, you pervert!"
"I'm cumming too," I moaned, and thrust my hips up. She clutched my head to her breasts, and our bodies rocked back and forth together, quaking with our orgasms. It was so incomparable to what I had experienced previously, masturbating or even sliding between Morag's breasts.
I lay beneath her tremoring body, my cock still hard within her. I knew that I was late for my next class. I didn't care. I had fucked my hot teacher. As Ms Magunderson said, how many guys could honestly say that?
She stood, and gave me a contemptuous look. "Pervert." She began buttoning up her shirt, then looked down to where my cum was leaking out of the inside of her pussy, down her thigh.
"Lick it up," she said, apparently back in control. "Lick me clean."
"I leaned forward, and slurped my cum from her thigh, unable to resist her command. How had it happened that I had taken control during sex? As I gagged a bit, swallowing my ejaculate, I tried to understand how it was possible that during sex, I had controlled this woman who completely terrified me.
"Now, tonight you're going to tell your mother how you didn't hear about our relationship from me. You're going to tell her how you saw her and I." She said, picking her panties up of the floor and taking them to her desk, tucking them into her purse.
"Uh huh," I said, not really comprehending it.
"Do it, pervert."
"Okay," I said, as she walked to the door. "You slut."
She turned and sneered.
She owned me now, as she said. But somehow, I owned her, too.
I didn't go to class for the rest of the day. I went to the bleachers above the pool, a quiet little alcove where I could think. Sometimes I went there when I needed a nap in the middle of the day.
I had lost my virginity. A monumentous moment. But something kept tugging at me. There was something else in what had happened today that I was supposed to learn from. I had been shocked by how foul-mouthed Ms Magunderson was. Of course, she talked dirty, when she and my mother had fucked. But this was different. This was filthy. And in some ways, it was a form of dominance. I understood that. But it wasn't just her dominating me. As I replayed the words in my mind, it seemed like she had been degrading me in just the right way to get a rise out of me, get me to fight back, and ultimately dominate her.
Yesterday. The fight with my mother. It was the same thing, but intensely wordless. The way my mother had wrestled with me. She wasn't trying to hurt me or hold me down. I replayed the language of our bodies in my mind, just as I had replayed Magunderson's filthy dialogue, and found the same pattern. It wasn't conscious on her part, at least I was pretty certain it wasn't. But she had wanted me on top. She had wanted me forcing myself down ontop of her. Incredible. In that context, the kiss this morning meant so much more.
I tried to tell myself that my mother did not want me sexually. But my instinct, my reason, they all agreed. Frustrated with my own thoughts, I left the bleachers.
"Dude, wait up!" As I walked toward the bus stop, I turned and saw Vernon. "Dude, I was talking with Oscar. He says he totally saw you frenching your woman. Is that true?"
I shrugged.
"Oh my god, you frenched your mother? That's fucking sick, man!"
"I didn't French her. I told her what happened, how you had this stupid idea, and she agreed to go along with it. But there was no frenching. And we just did it because Oscar was right there. Anyway, it was your plan."
"Oh, whatever, man. It's fine though. If my mom looked like yours, I'd do whatever I could to get in her panties."
"Yeah, fuck off."
"But hey, the plan's working, just like I said it would. Morag was asking where you were today. She seemed concerned, and Hannah says that Morag told her that the two of you made out last night."
"Yeah, that's true." I said, relieved to have the conversation away from my mother.
"Wow, that's great."
"Yeah, it was good."
"She told me that if I found you, I should tell you to come over tonight."
"Yeah, I'm a little tired."
"Dude, don't turn down an invitation like that. They take it personally."
I nodded. After the tension of the day, it would be nice to lie down with Morag, fall asleep against her soft curves.
I bought some flowers and went to Morag's apartment. Chelsea rung me in, but Morag greeted me at the door.
"Hey, that's thoughtful."
"Yeah, well I was thinking about you all day."
"I was thinking about you, too. How come you weren't there at lunch?"
"I had a paper I was late on."
"Oh, okay. Oscar said it was because you had a nooner scheduled with your older woman."
I laughed meekly. "Nothing like that, no."
"Hey Sean," Chelsea passed by in the hallway, and gave me a little wave. I waved back, watching her body, lean but for her pregnant belly.
"I'm going to put these in some water. You want to go wait for me in my room?"
"Okay," I said.
I went to her room and waited, looking at the family photographs and some landscape sketches that she had drawn. I was still looking at them when the door clicked shut behind me.
"Did you bring the condoms?"
"Oh shit," I swore. It completely slipped my mind, with everything else that had gone on.
"I hope you don't think I'm a prude. It's just that with everything that happened with Chelsea, I feel I need to be cautious."
"No, I understand."
"I started taking the pill, but it'll be a few weeks before it kicks in. Once it does, I'm fine with not using a condom."
I nodded, then pulled her close to me, kissing her on the lips. My hands went to the fastenings of her jeans, as she unbuckled my belt. We undressed hastily, urgent to feel each other's naked body, until at last we fell down onto the bed, naked and intertwined. I felt confident from earlier today. I felt like I knew something about women. At least I was no longer a virgin.
"Roll over," I instructed, raising my body off of hers. She rolled onto her stomach, and I straddled her, then reached across to where I had found the oil the night before last. I began massaging her back, starting with her shoulders and her neck, slowly working down along her spine. I slid off of her and sat beside her as I massaged her feet and her legs, one at a time, eventually working my way up her thighs to her ass.
She purred as I massaged the cheeks of her ass.
"You like that, don't you?"
"Mmhmm."
I slipped a finger down along her crack, and she gasped.
"You like that, too."
"It's a little shocking," she said, as I caressed the rim of her asshole.
"But you like it."
"Yeah."
I slipped my other hand around her stomach and down to her clit, and began softly stimulating it.
"I like that, too."
I slipped my fingertip into her asshole.
"Oh, you shouldn't do that."
"Why not?"
"It's dirty."
I slipped my finger in a bit further.
"Does it hurt?"
"No."
"Does it feel good?"
"Yes."
I slipped my finger in and out smoothly. "I have a hedonist philosophy. If it feels good—"
"But—"
"But what?"
"Okay," she said. "I've just never let anyone do that before. Play with my asshole, that is."
She writhed beneath me, but I kept my hands on her, attempting to stimulate and reassure her at the same time.
"Are you going to put your cock in there?"
"Do you want me to?" I asked. I hadn't thought that far ahead, but if she was willing to let me.
"I don't know. In some cultures, anal sex is used as an acceptable form of premarital sex."
"What cultures are those?"
"I don't know. Maybe Polynesian or Micronesian. And they do it in Lady Chatterley's Lover."
"Yeah," I said.
"I'm reading it right now. Have you read it?"
"No. But I've heard it has anal sex."
She reached across and grabbed the book from her bedside table, and then her reading glasses. She flicked on the light, and as I massaged her asshole, she read to me.
"All the while he spoke he exquisitely stroked the rounded tail, till it seemed as if a slippery sort of fire came from it into his hands. And his finger-tips touched the two secret openings to her body, time after time, with a soft little brush of fire."
She tried to keep her voice steady, as she read. But with every stroke of my finger, her voice trembled.
I climbed up on my haunches, and she stopped reading in anticipation, as I lay my cock along her ass and spread her ass cheeks wide.
"I still can't believe that I'm letting you do this," she moaned.
I rubbed my cock down with oil, and then slipped it against her asshole. "Don't clench your ass," I said, finding her resisting me. "Keep reading."
"She sat on his thighs, her head against his breast, and her ivory-gleaming legs loosely apart, the fire glowing unequally upon them. Sitting with his head dropped, he looked at—ah!" She gasped here as I entered her, slipping in just a couple inches. "He looked at the folds of her body in the fire-glow, and at the fleece of soft brown hair that hung down to a point between her open thighs. He reached to the table behind, and took up her bunch of flowers, still so wet that drops of rain fell on to her."
As she continued to read her voice distracted, barely holding together, I slipped slowly out of her, and deeper inside her. Never all the way out of her, as I was afraid that if I did so, her ass would seal up and not let me in again.
But it let me in deeper, until I was pressed entirely in upon her.
"There was silence. He leaned and put another piece of wood on the fire. The flame glowed on his silent, abstracted face. She waited, but he said nothing."
She closed the book.
"How does it feel?" I asked.
"It's good."
"Did you read it, and wonder what it would be like?"
"I did. How does it feel for you?"
"I can feel every little movement of your body through my cock. It's like it's completely wrapped in your muscles."
"Mmmm," she moaned, and squeezed me.
"God, Morag!"
"You like that?" she squeezed again.
"Oh, it's so intense."
"Don't move then. Let me make you cum like this."
So I stayed frozen above her, tensed and penetrating her asshole. And she, beneath me, did not move, either, except for her gently flexing ass.
"I can feel you getting bigger, harder," she whispered. "I can feel you... oh!"
I surged into her, my cock pulling me behind it, down inside her asshole. Morag screamed out, so loud that the roommate could not possibly avoid hearing.
"Oh, your cum!"
I started to pull out.
"No, stay inside me a while."
So I lay upon her back, my cock still lodged inside her, it not flaccid but not completely erect, but still feeling every movement of her body.
We fell asleep like that, and I slept a deep, heavy sleep, although I was awoken in the middle of the night by a knock on the door, and Morag stirring beneath me. I heard her and Chelsea whispering, and I fell asleep and awoke again and Morag was still gone from the bedroom, I got up, and followed the light in the hall, candle light, faint as before, to Chelsea's room.
The door was open, and had I not already had the most ridiculous and surprising day of my life, the site before me would have shocked me. But as I already kissed my mother, fucked my teacher, and sodomized my girlfriend, the sight of Chelsea resting her head in Chelsea's lap, gently sucking at one of Morag's enormous nipples was not the least bit shocking. Nor did Chelsea seemed shocked by my appearance in the door.
"Hey Sean. They get heavy. Sometimes painfully heavy. And I need to have them emptied."
Morag sat up on the bed, and motioned for me to come join them. They were too beautiful to resist, Morag with her natural voluptuousness, and Chelsea with the voluptuousness of motherhood. I went to them, and Morag kissed me, her mouth tasting of milk. She took my head in my hands and turned my face to Chelsea, who kissed me in turn, her tongue circling my lips to taste her own milk.
Then I dropped my lips down to her breast, and she cradled my head in her arms, as I took her breast it my mouth, and gently sucked. My mouth gradually filled with a delicious, warm milk, and I swallowed it down, continuing to suck. Morag lay her head in Chelsea's lap beside mine, and continued to suck the other nipple.
It was strangely wholesome. It's not as though it wasn't sexual—I was incredibly aroused, and I'm sure the girls didn't fail to notice my erection. Maybe it was the utilitarian nature of the act—that it was something that physically had to be done—but there was no struggle for power. There was nobody forcing themselves on anyone, and nobody forcing another onto themselves. Morag and Chelsea would start giggling sometimes, and I'd smile, though I'm not one for giggling.
We fell asleep, and later, awoke, our bodies having knotted around each other in the night.
The girls seemed completely content with what had happened, obviously having done this before.
"You're not weirded out by it?" Morag asked.
"I really enjoyed it," I said, truthfully.
"Chelsea's amazing," Morag said, looking straight at her friend as she said it. "I mean, I'm amazed at the things that she's gone through, her strength. I mean, going through this more or less alone, and I'm just glad I can be there for her." The two friends exchanged a warm smile, and I was so happy just to be there with them at that moment; truthfully, the happiest I had been in months, possibly even years.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone