Maria excused herself from the kitchen as if to go to the bathroom, as Makennah pored over the major league baseball box scores in that day's Springfield Sentinel. In the bathroom, Maria found Allen, gathering up his clothes, his naked pink/tanned ass sticking up as he rooted along the floor for his flip-flops.

“Allen!” Maria said as emphatically but as quietly as she could. “You have to leave, now!”

“What the fuck!” Allen mouthed back silently. “I'm a sex toy? What the fuck is that about?” He pantomimed being an inflatable fuck doll, with his mouth forming a comical O. Maria rolled her eyes and shrugged.

“Leave! Now!” Maria practically screamed, albeit with no sound. She led Allen out of the bathroom to her bedroom and stabbed a finger at the window.

“Leave?!” Allen said softly. “The fuck did I do?” And by climbing through a window? What the hell was this, a Cinemax sex farce?

“Get out of here!” Maria hissed, making a both-hands shooing gesture.

No time for a discussion; Maria pointed emphatically at the window. Allen put up two palms. His skinny ass climbed over the windowsill, losing one flip-flop as he tumbled out into a holly bush underneath.

“Shit, god dammit!” he hissed as the prickly holly scraped his back and his arms. Allen kicked off the other flip-flop, stood up, picked up both shoes with one hand, and vaulted an obsolete, waist-high chain-link fence into his backyard. Allen then jogged to the back door, his big boy dick going boing-boing-boing up and down as he ran. Maria watched through the bathroom window, then pulled the gossamer curtains together, shaking her head.

“You OK, Mom?” Makennah called from the kitchen table. Jack Clark had a two-run double the day before as the Padres doused the Phillies 9-3 to remain 2.5 games back in the NL West.

“Mmhm sweetie,” Maria said, dabbing another makeup wipe on her eyes to make sure she got all the slut off her eyelids and lips.

Back in his home, alone, Allen took another cold shower, just to calm himself down after almost being caught fucking Maria by her daughter, herself a smoking hot piece of college girl pussy, heretofore unknown to Allen. Good God, he thought, soaping himself up, the fuck else is she hiding? Allen got out of the shower, slapped some Old Spice all over him (except the parts scraped raw by the holly bush, of course), and went into the kitchen wearing nothing but his underpants. He poured himself a bowl of Apple Jacks and sat down to watch He-Man in his tighty-whiteys.

During the second commercial break, Allen heard the rumbling of Makennah’s Corvette engine, went to the window, and saw it back out of her home’s driveway. She slowly made her way up the street, leaving for who knows what. Allen dumped the bowl of cereal in the kitchen sink, wiped his hands on a kitchen towel, and took off for Maria’s back door.

Maria greeted him in a workout leotard with leg warmers, her hair pulled up into a big soufflé of blonde highlights and brown roots. Allen closed in for an exploitive kiss but Maria put her right hand on his chest to push him away. “No, love,” she said. “Not now. We’ve had enough excitement today.”

Crestfallen, Allen slumped his shoulders and turned as if that meant he should leave. Maria still motioned him into her sunroom. “Baby, it’s OK, you can come inside,” Maria purred, kissing Allen on the cheek. “I’m just going to do my Jane Fonda workout and have a Lean Cuisine for lunch.”

The sunroom TV/VCR now had one of Jane Fonda’s tapes paused, with the magnetic distortion over the tube as Barbarella was in the middle of a set of split-leg lift exercises. Maria unpaused the VCR, laid on the floor and resumed her workout as Allen went to the kitchen, returning with some Franzia box wine poured into a jelly jar.

Maria was now into the second part of her workout where she laid back, on her feet and shoulders, grabbing her ankles and thrusting her hips slowly up and down. Allen could see her pelvis bones against her shiny neon leotard. Maria kept thrusting. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. And rest. God that is so hot. Allen thought. No wonder she fucks a man like there’s no tomorrow.

The next exercise was the leg raises. Instead of facing the TV to match Jane Fonda’s motions, she turned to Allen, propped her head in her left arm, and used her right arm to guide her right leg into a forty-five-degree angle through each repetition. Allen was getting very turned on, looking at Maria’s beautiful, toned body, encased in all that neon spandex.

He shifted and slid his sweat pants down to his knees, revealing his hard cock, which lay against his tummy as he sat back on the couch and observed Maria’s fitness routine.

Allen started stroking himself slowly in time with Jane Fonda’s cadence. “And two … three … four … five … feel that burn! … seven, and … eight! Again! One … two …”

Maria grinned devilishly as she watched Allen masturbate. She could have that boy’s cock whenever she wanted it. But Maria knew that her favorite dishes were slow-cooked and served very hot. So she wanted him to sweat and marinate and stew for a good while before he put that delicious dick inside her again.

Then, Allen almost broke the moment. “You didn’t tell me Makennah was your daughter,” he said, still jacking off.

“You didn’t ask,” Maria said saucily, fixing Allen’s gaze.

Fair, Allen thought. “Does she take after her mother?” Allen asked suggestively.

“And what do you mean by that?” Maria purred. Her ass was now facing Allen as she did quadriceps exercises on her knees. She looked over her left shoulder at him with a smoldering glare and open, ruby-red lips.

“Does she fuck like a hellcat, like you?” Allen said point-blank.

“Oh, we’ve shared a man,” Maria said. “Not often, but more than once. One of her boyfriends in L.A. a couple of years ago."

Maria's matter-of-fact confidence, plus the fact she actually has threesomes with her daughter? sent a jolt of sexual energy through Allen.

“Would you like me to share you with her?” Maria said.

“Uh-hunh,” Allen said. Lord, he thought, bagging a mother-daughter duo is some serious Penthouse Forum shit. His balls drew up into his abdomen as he continued stroking.

“Maybe … we …” Maria was now panting with effort through her exercises, “could have dinner together … and see where things go.”

Allen’s mind pinwheeled at the possibility. From what he saw of Makennah as the country club lifeguard — not even knowing she was Maria's daughter — she looked like a real frisky filly who would be a really fun fuck. The thought of doing some bedroom aerobics with Makennah and her mother in a threesome sent Allen over the edge.

“Shit,” he grunted standing up and waddling over to Maria, potato-sack race style, with his sweatpants now down at his ankles. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum on my ass, baby,” Maria said, flexing her glutes upward. “Do it. Shoot it on my ass.”

Allen dribbled out two thick spurts of cum — he had already evacuated his balls for the day, so the fact anything came out at all was a miracle unto itself — and then spasmed several more times as he finished his orgasm. He took his big purple mushroom head and smeared the cum all over Maria’s hot pink and neon yellow spandex ass.

“Good work, everybody! Give yourself a hand,” Jane Fonda trilled from the TV. “Great workout today. Go do something nice for yourself, and I’ll see you for our next workout later.”

Allen sank to his knees and rolled onto his back, absolutely exhausted and spent, just like Maria. She rolled over and spooned up next to Allen, smoothing her hand up and down his chest and leaning into his ear.

“Let’s both go about the rest of our days, I think we’ve had enough excitement for today,” Maria said, her hot breath tickling Allen’s ear. She leaned in for a long kiss on his lips.

Allen readily agreed. If every encounter with Maria resulted in an explosive, chest-heaving, knee-buckling ejaculation, he didn’t know how long he could keep that up.