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Freewheeling Barbara toys with boys #3
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Chapter Three - Freewheeling Barbara Toys With Boys
"Jerry!" she gasped. "I thought you were at school! How -
what are you doing here?"
"I got all A's so I didn't have to take exams," Jerry
explained. "Aren't you glad to see me, Mom?"
"Of course I am. I'm just a little surprised," Barbara
answered. Surprise wasn't the word for it. What if he'd come
five minutes sooner? she thought grimly, picturing her son's
horror-stricken face. She trod water, trying to compose her
mind, trying to still her pounding heart. Guilt flooded her.
How could she have succumbed to her lust - right here in her own
home, with her son only minutes away. She closed her eyes. She
felt like she wa going to faint.
"Are you okay, Mom?" Jerry asked worriedly, looking at his
mother's flushed face. "You look kinda weird."
"Oh, I'm fine. Just the heat. Thought I'd cool off in the
pool ..." Barbara became aware that she was babbling and pulled
herself together. "Well, I think it's wonderful you're home.
Let's see, what time is it? Maybe we could go out for supper."
She clambered out of the water and stood beside her son. She
glanced down at her body - all in order, no telltale signs of
passion. "Would you like that?"
"Sure, Mom," Jerry answered. He looked at her out of the
corner of his eye. It had been some time since he'd seen his
mother in a bikini, and he'd been too young before to appreciate
her beauty. For the first time he looked at her as a woman and
not his mother. He was slightly embarrassed at his feelings, and
he tore his eyes away from the tempting display of nearly nude
flesh. He hadn't seen many girls in brief bathing attire this
close. He and his buddies at school occasionally sneaked up the
hill and spied on the local bathing beauties at the beach ... but
that was at a distance. He swallowed nervously, fixing his eyes
on the ground. Unbidden, he thought of the pictures in his
suitcase. An older boy had given them to him, and he hadn't
dared to examine them closely in the crowded dormitory. He felt
a sudden urge to run get them and take them to his bedroom to
peruse them in private. He was aware of a breathlessness - a
tightening in his groin that occurred when he was stimulated.
"Well, Jerry? That okay? I've got a date later on, but we can
go to the pizza place or something first." Barbara looked at her
son anxiously. Now he was looking odd. Maybe the sun was
getting him, too. All the worried mother now, all thoughts of
her former lust erased, Barbara put out one hand and stroked her
I GUESS son's forehead.
Jerry jumped as if he'd been shot. "Yes, that'll be great,
Mom. I'll - I'll just run my bags upstairs." He pulled away.
"Why don't you lie down and rest for a while? You look a
little pale. I know that bus trip is murder!" Barbara smiled at
her son. "And I am glad you're home early. You just startled me
earlier. I wasn't expecting anyone."
"The door was open, so I just came on in," Jerry answered. "I
think I will go lie down ..." He looked at his mother, trying to
appear sick. If she'll leave me alone for an hour or so, I can
look at my pictures, he thought feverishly. The desire to gaze
at the forbidden pictures had now reached an obsession. He
licked his lips slightly and glanced at his mother again,
wondering if she suspected anything. No, she wasn't even looking
at him. She was staring at a damp spot beside the pool, a funny
look on her face. He shrugged. "See ya in a while, Mom," he
said, turning and running upstairs.
Barbara followed him more slowly. I guess he didn't suspect
anything, she mused. He did look a little strange for a minute -
he was staring at me ... but it was probably the heat. I think
I'll take a shower, too ... must get on with things. I have to
forget that boy - that must never happen again. I wonder how old
he is - nineteen? He looks mature for his age. As she
remembered the most mature part of his body, she blushed vividly
and thrust down the thought. Never again. I'll have to be sure
to keep the door locked from now on. Anyhow, now that Jerry's
home for break, he won't bother me again. I'll keep so busy with
Jerry I won't have time to think about horrible lewd things.
Filled with resolution, Barbara disappeared into her bedroom.
God! My own son will be ninteen next week! And here I was with
a boy his own age!
Jerry sprawled on the bed. He had closed his door and felt
quite safe. His Mom never came in when the door was closed. She
was a great believer in privacy. He spread the pictures in front
of him and began to look at each one carefully. He had pulled
his pants off in preparation for his jack-off session. He
figured that if he came really good, it would wipe out the
thoughts he'd had looking at his mother. Jerry knew how awful it
was to have thoughts like that about your mother - it was a major
sin. Not only that, if anyone found out they'd probably put him
in a home or something. Someplace for perverted, evil boys. He
shivered and resolved never to look at his mother again. He
concentrated on the pictures.
There were seven of them. The first was of a buxom blonde.
She was naked except for a garter belt and black nylons, and she
was staring at the camera with a lascivious expression on her
face, her tongue protruding from her full lips.
Jerry drew a deep breath, wondering how it would feel to kiss
her on those full wet lips. As his eyes slowly took in the rest
of the picture, his breathing quickened and his hand dropped to
his penis, which was hardening against his leg. He grasped it
between thumb and forefinger and began slowly stroking it. He
looked at the woman's pictured breasts for a long time, his
breath coming in ragged puffs as he ran his finger over the
picture, imagining how those big boobs would feel under his hand.
"Oh, baby," he breathed. "What a set!" He breathed harder,
picturing his lips fastened on the erect nipples. Almost
unwillingly, he slid his eyes farther down.
The woman's legs were widespread, and she was holding her cunt
open with one hand, showing the treasures inside. A thick growth
of bushy curls covered her twat, curling along the extended lips
of her open cunt. Jerry could just make out the ridges and
convolutions of the slit. He peered closer. It looked wet. It
almost glistened in the picture, seeming to beckon him nearer.
He stroked it with a trembling finger, fantasizing that he was
running his digit over a real, wet cunt. He had touched a cunt
before - the gardener's daughter let the boys at school feel her
for a dollar. But she didn't have one like this. Hers was
sparsely furred and the slit was tiny, nothing like this fleshy
abundance. Jerry could see a tiny knob of flesh at the top of
the opening. He wondered if that was the thing the boy who had
given him the picture had told him about. Supposedly you could
just press on this nub of flesh and the girl would let you do
anything you wanted. Jerry's hand moved faster on his pecker as
he imagined what he would do. He put the picture aside and went
on to the next.
In this picture a young red-headed woman was sucking a guy off.
The girl's body wasn't as full as the other woman's - her breasts
were small and tilted upwards. Jerry thought they looked like
ripe fruit and wished he could bite into them. Her body was bent
over, showing her luscious ass, and the contrast of her long red
hair against the white ass made Jerry's heart stop. But the
interesting thing was - her mouth was completely full - her lips
distended around this enormous dick she was trying to swallow
whole. Jerry looked at the man's genitals appreciatively and
wondered if his would ever be that size.
The man's root was huge. It sprang from a nest of dense black
curls, pointing straight up, obviously fully aroused. The head
and about half the shaft were buried in the red head's sucking
mouth. Her cheeks puffed out and around it, trying to
accommodate the rod. One of the man's hands was caught in the
girl's hair, holding her head steady, the other was squeezing one
of her breasts. Her hands were cupped under his balls, one of
them disappearing under his bottom. Jerry wondered what she was
doing, then it came to him! She was feeling the guy's asshole!
He shivered, wondering how it would feel to have a lady sucking
on his dick and fingering his shithole at the same time. His
hand stroked up and down his pecker in short quick strokes, then
slowed. He could feel his cum building up, and he wanted to look
at the rest of the pictures before he came. He flipped to the
next one, his hand keeping a steady rhythm on his penis.
"Hoo, boy!" he breathed. This was the best one yet. In this
picture a busty brunette was lying spreadeagled on the bed, her
heavy breasts hanging to the side, her widespread thighs facing
the camera. Above her, his dick still spurting, a man knelt. He
had apparently just fucked her, for gobs of semen clung to her
open vagina and dripped from the head of his softening prick.
The photographer had caught the moment perfectly. The woman's
face was glazed with lust, her nipples still turgid with passion.
Her open cunt seemed to quiver with its load of fresh sperm. Her
twat hairs were coated with the sticky stuff - it was running
down her legs and over her stomach. "Wow - he must've really
shot a wad," Jerry breathed.
He wished it were his sperm that was dripping down the woman's
outspread legs. He wondered how it felt to spurt into a cunt -
to cover a woman with cum. His hand was moving furiously now.
He wanted to cum - to pretend he was spurting all over the woman
in the picture. "God ... fuck me, baby," he said hoarsely,
squeezing at his prick as he thought a cunt would. "I'm gonna
shoot all over your twat!" The lewd words coming from his mouth
excited him even more and he hurriedly turned to the next
picture.
There were three people in this one. A woman knelt in the
center, her full breasts hanging down loosely. Behind her, a
dark man was plunging into her ass, his dick cleaving her
buttocks neatly, his balls smashed against the full roudness of
her buttocks. He was reaching under her with one hand, feeling
her twat. In front of her another man was thrusting his turgid
prick into her open mouth. He was holding her by the hair and
pinching her breasts with his free hand. The woman seemed in an
ecstatic trance, her mouth wide to receive the giant prick, her
buttocks spread to accommodate the man behind her. Jerry
couldn't decide which guy he'd rather be, the one with his prick
buried in that hot asshole, or the one with his dick in the wet
sucking mouth.
"Wow ... shake it, baby," he murmured to the woman, feeling his
pecker buried in the convulsing asshole. "Give me a ride!" He
thrust wildly into his hand. He could feel his balls tightening
and lifting, and knew he couldn't hold off any longer. The other
pictures would have to wait. He jacked off furiously, his eyes
glued to the lustful threesome, his mind whirling with the
stimulus he had received. "Oh, fuck, fuck me, I'm cumming ...
suck it baby ... I'm gonna shoot! I'm cummingggg!!" His young
penis began spurting wildly, gobs of thick creamy cum jerking
from the head in an endless stream, gushing through his hand,
landing on the pictures, on his stomach, on the bedspread. Jerry
couldn't remember ever cumming so much - it seemed like it would
never end. Unbidden, a picture of his mother in her bikini
flashed into his mind and he convulsed again, his tortured balls
giving up the last burst of sperm. "Oh, oh, good!" he mumbled,
turning over, rolling toward the edge of the bed.
And then he saw her. His mother. Standing in the doorway, her
eyes fixed on his dangling penis, a strange expression on her
face.
"Mom!" he gasped in horror. Of all the things he had imagined,
he had never thought of his mom catching him jacking off. "Oh
no, Mom!" He stared at her in abject amazement. He couldn't
think what to do next. It was perfectly obvious what he had been
doing - there was no way to hide his cum-smeared young hard-on
and the assortment of pictures. Jerry wondered how long she had
been standing there. Had she actually seen him cum? Through the
embarrassment and fear that filled him, he was aware of a twinge
of lust at the thought of his lovely mother watching him jack
off.
"It's okay, dear ... nothing to be ashamed of," Barbara said.
"I'm sorry - I knocked, but I thought you said come in. It's
perfectly normal. I didn't realize you were growing up so fast."
Barbara smiled at her son, hoping her emotions were well hidden.
For what she felt was not motherly at all - she was suffused with
sudden lust! She had knocked at the boy's door - that was true -
but she had heard his voice crying out lewd words, accompanied by
grunts and moans. She hadn't been able to resist opening the
door quietly, driven by curiosity and something else she couldn't
name. And she had seen her son, his hand wrapped around his
prick, jerking off as he writhed on the bed, his eyes fixed on a
picture he held in his other hand. She blushed, remembering the
picture - a woman being screwed in the ass while she blew another
guy. Part of her wondered how it would feel to take on two men
at once - but she quickly squelched that thought.
Her eyes had been full of her son's jumping dick. She couldn't
move - couldn't force herself away. As he neared completion, her
hand had strayed inside her robe and found her cunt dripping with
moisture. When he came, she had plunged her finger into herself,
frigging her clitoris desperately. She hadn't had time to cum,
and she was in a state of aroused passion, her body aching with
lust as she tried to calmly reassure herself that masturbation
was normal.
Maybe that is, but what I'm feeling is perverted - wrong -
immoral, she thought to herself. Screwing this afternoon was bad
enough - this - this, this is a sin. No mother should think this
way about her son. It's impossible ... I must be insane! She
drew her robe closely around her, as if she could shut away her
depraved desires. "Don't worry about it, dear. I'll never come
in your room and disturb you again. And please, don't worry.
We'll forget about the whole episode. I'm going to get dressed
for supper now. Pizza okay?" She smiled brightly at her son and
backed out of the room, closing the door gently behind her.
Jerry still sat on the edge of the bed, his thoughts in
turmoil. He hadn't believed it when his mother had walked in on
him. He still didn't in fact. But she had been real nice about
it. She hadn't seemed too shocked or anything. Jerry blushed
again. He didn't see how he could look her in the face again
after what she'd seen! And if she knew that he'd been thinking
about her when he came ... Jerry winced. Still, she hadn't
seemed horrified. In fact her expression had reminded him of
someone. He thought a minute, then his eyes lit on the first
picture, the one with the big blonde, her face glazed with lust.
He stared at the picture wondering how it could remind him of his
mom as she had stood in the doorway, then shrugged. He'd do what
she had suggested - forget the whole thing, pretend it had never
happened. But maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to get one of his
buddies to spend break with him. For some reason, Jerry didn't
want to be in the house alone with his mother. Not if she was
going to keep running around in bikinis and bathrobes!
Jerry clattered down the stairs, dressed in jeans and a T-
shirt. "Okay, Mom, ready to go!" he sang out.
Barbara got up slowly from the couch and smiled at her son. She
was dressed in a green dress with a low neckline, and as Jerry
saw the twin swell of her breasts, his resolve hardened. He just
couldn't stay alone with her, not thinking the thoughts he did!
If Steve of Richard was here he could control himself better,
could go off with them and try to ignore this sexy creature who
happened to be his mother.
"Hey, Mom, would it be all right if I called up Steve and asked
him to spend break with me? He didn't have anywhere to go. He's
still at school. I told him I'd ask you and he could come up
later if it was okay with you. He'll be finished with exams by
tomorrow."
"Sure, hon," Barbara answered, aware of a pang of
disappointment at not having her son to herself. "Call him right
away ... tell him I'd be glad to have him visit. I know you boys
don't want to be around us old folks all the time!" She smiled
at him lovingly, wishing she could see him without visualizing
his young pecker spurting his hot, tasty-looking cream.
"Oh, it's not that, Mom! You're sure not old. I mean, it's
just that I promised Steve ... that is, he's all alone at
school." Jerry floundered in explanation, hoping he hadn't hurt
his mother by intimating that he didn't want to be around her.
"I understand, Jerry. Why don't you call him now, and then
we'll go out for supper. I have a date with Mr. Greenway
tonight. Will you be all right by yourself? I didn't know you
were coming home, or I'd surely stay. I can break the date if
you'd rather have me stay."
"Oh no. I mean ... I'll be fine. Got some reading to do -
wouldn't be good company anyhow," Jerry stuttered, completely
unnerved by the prospect of his mother remaining home.
"I guess so. You're a big boy now, after all," Barbara looked
at her son, and they both flushed and looked away as they
remembered what a big boy he was.
No, not a boy. He was almost a man now. Why did this thought
hurt? Her own age? Life slipping away from her. Was this why
she peddled that damned bicycle mile after tortuous mile? To
somehow, some way, hold on to her youth?
She looked at her legs. They were tanned and muscular. "Bike
freak," she said to herself, using the same intonation that young
Jim had that day at the motel. But what could the damned bike do
when her chin began to sag, or the crow's feet began to spider
around her eyes? When would that be, five years, six years?
What would she end up, a little old grey-haired lady with a trim,
tight body that didn't match her false teeth?
She had read an advertisement in today's newspaper. A plastic
surgeon saying he understood, the dilemma of the "aging woman."
Eyelid-lifts, chin lifts, brow-creases eliminated. No. She
wasn't to that yet. But how long would a lousy two-hundred
dollar bicycle keep her young? Not long. Not long ...
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