The next few days were torture. I knew what was coming, but I had no idea when. And because I wasn't supposed to know, I couldn't ask.

Dom probably would, were he in my shoes. He'd be confident that Mom would forgive him for eavesdropping on her and Dad, and he'd almost certainly be right to do so.

But then, I wasn't Dom.

Part of me wanted to talk to him about it. Ask what Mom was like. But he might have denied it. It would be just like him. You could catch him doing something on tape, and he'd still deny it, challenging you with unwavering eyes and balled fists to call bullshit. Even when he had no reason to care if you knew. Just because he could.

I'd thought Mom had been teasing me before.

But that had been nothing.

Now, I wondered if maybe she actually hadn't been trying to get my attention before, after all, despite what Dad had thought. If she had been, she hadn't been trying very hard. Because the lengths she went to after that conversation were unbelievable.

For starters, though I wasn't entirely sure she was in control of this, it didn't seem like a coincidence that I no longer even seemed to catch a fleeting glimpse of the ordinary housewife I'd grown up with. The sex goddess seemed to be here to stay. And fuck did she look good. I couldn't get over her insane curves, the way her waist and hips seemed to belong to two very different women. She'd also taken to wearing absurdly revealing outfits, perfume and a good deal of makeup around the house.

But the way she looked and smelled was the least of it.

As it was, being a horny nineteen year old guy, I found a way to interpret almost every sentence anyone spoke as being steeped in sexual innuendo. But over the next few days, almost every other sentence out of Mom's mouth was fraught with double entendres, and it wasn't just me trying to find them. It also seemed to take her a lot longer to eat a banana for breakfast or an icicle for dessert than it used to. Not that she went completely overboard. If called on it, she could have plausibly denied it.

But having heard her conversation with Dad, and having noticed the way she snuck furtive glances at me when doing so, it wasn't hard to guess that she fully intended for me to see these acts as metaphors for fellatio.

The next three mornings, while I worked out in the basement, Mom came down to do laundry. Because, you know, it would have been so hard to do all of it the first time rather than one load a day. Each time, she'd slipped her panties off and tossed them in with the wash. Whether it was a babydoll or a silk robe or one of Dad's dress shirts, she'd worn something up top that was just long enough to cover her up afterwards. So it wasn't so much that this let me see any more of her when she left than on her way in to the laundry room. But she took her time about it, and I was sure that she knew I saw her take them off.

She must not have been getting much sleep lately either, because she seemed to need to yawn a helluva lot. The kind of yawn that made her arch her back and stretch her arms, pulling her top up high enough to give me a nice view of whatever skimpy little underwear had been given the unfortunate task of trying to contain her fat ass, while lifting and separating her huge breasts at the same time. Every single one of those yawns gave me an erection. After the first few, you'd think the novelty would be gone. And, in a sense, you'd be right. They still had the same effect on me though, even as it became more and more transparent that they were entirely for my benefit.

Pretty much every little excuse she could think up to put her body on display, no matter how flimsy, she took full advantage of. I saw her walking around with nothing but a towel on. Caught her doing yoga in the afternoon, which she'd never been known to do before. I'd even once noticed her wearing see-through panties under an outfit too skimpy to hide them.

When I had, I'd noted that she trimmed her pubic hair, but there was a good sized triangle sitting above her little lady. One of my exes was always shaved bald. And there was something to be said for that. But it did sort of make her look like a little girl. The way Mom had it, I could only imagine that it would be easy to go down on her without getting hair in my mouth, but she'd still look like a woman.

Though I saw more than a few hot chicks at the pool on the days I had to lifeguard, all I could think about was my mother. No matter how many teens in tiny bikinis or MILFs in more modest one pieces I saw, the woman I pictured while jerking off each morning and night was the one who slept down the hall.

Finally, I'd had more than I could take. Thinking about the way Mom had explained to Dad why she was fucking Dom but not me, I cornered her in the kitchen one morning. Dad and Dom had already gone to work, and Todd and Nat were at school. My shift at the pool didn't start for more than an hour. We had the house to ourselves, and there'd be no one to know how we passed the time.

Mom was standing at the sink, washing out the coffee pot. I came up behind her, put my hands on the counter, one on either side of her narrow waist, and stood so close that my cock would be stabbing her in the back if I hadn't tucked it up under the waistband of my swimsuit. With my mouth a bare inch from her ear, I whispered, "When are you going to stop teasing me and let me fuck the hell out of you?"

"Frank!" she said. But it was the voice my mother used whenever I swore, whether it was at the TV or telling a joke or what. You'd think that this particular bit of profanity might have warranted a slightly stronger reaction.

"Don't pretend you haven't been trying to get my attention," I said. "Well, you have it. I can't stop thinking about you. Morning, noon, and night, I picture your full lips wrapped around my hard cock, imagine the way it must feel to slide back inside. To see the look on your face as I return to where I belong."

Mom purred as she pushed her hips back, driving her big ass against me. Once those nice pillows were in place, she wiggled her hips, making her ass dance against me. "Soon, baby. Soon. Your father is going to call in sick tomorrow. And you have off from work, right? So the three of us can enjoy ourselves all day while everyone else is gone."

"Dad is going to join us?" I asked.

She laughed. "You mean, your mother and father are going to let you join them?"

I blushed. For all she knew, I had no idea that she'd been fucking Dom behind Dad's back for some time now. Why ever would I think that she'd let me have her all to myself? I shouldn't even have known that she was doing anything other than having herself a little fun by teasing me.

"Was hoping for a different answer," I said, nibbling her ear.

Mom cooed softly. But then she said, "Patience is a virtue."

"Are we talking about being virtuous then?" I asked.

"Suppose not," she said.

I took a hand off the counter, sliding it up and down her fat ass. "Maybe just a little appetizer now, before I go to work?"

She hesitated. "I can't. Sorry, baby. Mommy would love nothing more than to feel her son's hard cock sliding in and out of her. But I promised your father." She turned around and cupped my face in her hands. "It'll be worth the wait though. Count on it." With that, she went up on tiptoes, while pulling me down to meet her halfway, and kissed me.

It was unlike any kiss I'd ever experienced. I'm not sure how. On one level, it was just like most first kisses. We both held back a bit, uncertain about how emphatic we could be without looking overeager. Yet as the kiss went on, we both grew more adventurous, introducing more and more tongue play, and our hands roamed a bit more freely. At the same time, I felt something more, something I hadn't felt when kissing the girls I usually dated, not on the first kiss or any of the ones that followed.

I'd almost have said it was metaphysical.

Whatever it was, that simple kiss very nearly brought me to climax.

I sighed contentedly when Mom finally let me go and settled back to her feet. "Well, that was something," I said.

She smiled. "There's plenty more where that came from." Her fingers trailed down my chest and abs then gave the lump in my swimsuit a quick tap. "But not until tomorrow."

#

I felt like it was my birthday as I bounded down the stairs.

From the kitchen, I saw Mom and Dad sitting out on the back porch, drinking coffee. I poured myself a mug and went out to join them, trying to act casual. Just another lazy summer morning. Wasn't like my father and I were about to take turns fucking my mother silly or anything. That would be absurd.

"There he is," Mom said with a mischievous grin.

"Morning, stud," Dad said, raising his coffee mug to me in mock salute. "I hear you're going to teach your old man how it's done today."

I ignored his comment as I leaned down and kissed my mother on the cheek. Then I took a seat across from Dad, next to Mom. As usual, at least of late, she looked amazing. Her silk robe left most of her huge breasts exposed. She might have had something else on underneath. Or, then again, she might not have. I wasn't sure. Didn't care either.

The morning sun brought out her natural red highlights. I marveled at the fact that simply looking at her hair could make me forget to breathe for a moment or two. To say nothing of the killer body she was flaunting as best she could lately.

"So, you nervous?" Dad asked, trying to hide a bemused grin behind his coffee mug.

"Nah," I said. Mom and Dad both raised their eyebrows at me. I sighed. "Okay, yeah, of course I am. It's my first time, after all."

Dad choked on his coffee, spit it up onto his lap and the table in front of him. Mom's eyes went wide, but she contained her surprise far better than her husband.

I held my hands up in protest. "Whoa, who, I didn't mean like that!"

Dad laughed as he wiped up the coffee with one of the many bandanas he always carried. His shirt and pants were hopelessly stained though. "I was about to say."

"No, no son of yours," Mom said, patting him on the forearm.

"I meant it's my first time with Mom. First time with incest. First time with an older woman. First time sharing a woman with another man. I'm used to girls my own age, girls I've been dating for a while. Not...it's just different."

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Mom said. Sounding less like the naughty little seductress that had been trying her best to make me give myself friction burns over the past few days than like, well, my mother. The same woman who, without me so much as giving voice to the slight bit of anxiety I'd been feeling, had told me it wasn't too late to wait another year before starting college. Even though we were already three hours into the long drive upstate at the time.

I chuckled. "Oh, I'm definitely not saying that." I paused, took a sip of coffee. "I've never wanted anything so badly. Just nervous is all. Don't want to make a bad impression."

Dad puffed out his chest. "Well, she's obviously going to be comparing you to me, so you're going to be something of a disappointment one way or another."

Mom snorted and slapped Dad's upper arm. "Honey! Don't say that."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, I'm just kidding. He knows that." But he stared directly into my eyes, unblinking, for a few moments, letting me know he wasn't. Not entirely, anyway. "Right, Frank?" he asked, tone lighthearted despite his gaze.

"I guess I'm just a little worried that I'm going to have flashbacks to when I was learning to drive. You guys aren't going to be telling me what I'm doing wrong the whole time, are you?" I asked, looking from one to the other.

"I certainly won't," Dad said. "But I can't make any promises about your mother."

She slapped him again, a bit harder this time. Then she turned to look me in the eyes. God, her eyes were so big, her irises such a beautiful deep brown. "Of course not, sweetie. But you know how I am. Sometimes I can't help myself. If I offer a few little pointers here and there, try not to take it as an attack on everything you stand for the way you sometimes do, okay? Please?"

I gritted my teeth so hard my jaw probably should have cracked. After a few moments to compose myself, I said, "I won't."

But I realized, if Mom's response was a bit defensive, I'd sort of asked for it. I'd all but accused them of being overbearing and excessively critical, and we hadn't even begun. Talk about a mood killer.

Well, it wasn't like I knew the etiquette for this sort of thing. Was I supposed to just know that of course she wouldn't be correcting me the whole time, the way she did with just about everything else, ever?

Mom's voice softened. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. And I'm sure you...just, if I ask you to change things up a bit, it doesn't mean I'm trying to say you don't know what you're doing. And if it seems like I'm responding to your father's efforts more than yours, well, he's not only had many more years of practice in general, but also in terms of getting to know me and my unique preferences."

She looked like she was waiting for a sign of assent, but something apparently came to her all of a sudden, because before I could say that I understood, she rushed to add, "And that doesn't mean I want you to try to imitate him either. Sometimes, what a woman wants from one man isn't the same as what she wants from another. So just keep an open mind and realize that any feedback I provide simply as my way of trying to help us figure out what works best for the two of us, so we can share something special. Something different from what your father and I have."

"Got it," I said.

Mom nodded. "And I'd encourage you to do the same for me. Maybe you don't want the same things from me that you do from your girlfriends. Or maybe you do. But I'll only know what you want if you tell me. So don't be afraid to speak up."

I sipped my coffee while I let that sink in. Knowing Mom, she might well be saying all this so that when she did try to tell me that I had no idea what I was doing later, it wouldn't sound like it. But I thought maybe she really meant what she was saying. "That makes perfect sense." With an awkward laugh, I added, "I should have known you'd find a way to be all motherly about this, without actually taking anything away from it either."

Mom looked like she might ask what I meant by "motherly", and whether that was a good thing, but she bit her lip, smiled, and kept the thought to herself.

Dad pushed his chair back. "If you'll excuse me. I'm going to get some more coffee. Maybe I can manage to get more of it in my mouth than on my clothes this time. Assuming Frank doesn't drop any more bombs on us. You do have all the parts, right?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Dad, I have the parts."

"Good. Because your mother enjoys oral well enough, but she's definitely expecting to get a good dicking from you."

"Charming, dear," Mom said to him. As he passed by her, she batted at him, but he dodged her careless swat with ease.

Mom turned her chair to angle towards me a bit, reached over, and took my hands in hers. We smiled at each other awkwardly. Like high school freshmen who hadn't yet figured out how to flirt properly. Not that I was sure I'd mastered the art since moving on up to college freshman either, for that matter. But I had learned that sometimes it involved talking to the girl. Perhaps I should try something along those lines right now.

The words just wouldn't come. One thought ran through my mind, over and over and over. I couldn't believe this was really going to happen. My poor brain didn't have the ability to process any other thoughts just then.

"I'll try not to say too much anyway," Mom said after the awkward silence grew unbearable. "We can worry about figuring each other out more later. For now, maybe we should just try our best to enjoy it for what it is. If that's what you want."

I forced a smile. There wouldn't be a later, at least not for three years. But Mom didn't know that I knew that. Didn't know I'd overheard her talking to Dad...