13 Haziran 2021

Wendy’s Lament

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Minor revisions as of 1/25/17. Nothing extra or anything, probably nothing to be gained from re-reading if you’ve seen it before.

I think this may be my best story. I am very happy with the tone and where things go in general. The first quarter twists time around a bit and it worried me for a while but I think it works.

I’d normally split a story of this length into at least two postings but I want this one to land in front of the reader complete as it is.

*****

The comforter tore from her teeth as her body strained again. She’d been biting it, fighting to muffle her cries of pleasure. Her breathing was rough and she gasped like a diver surfacing. Her lungs pumped hard. Her heart pumped hard.

Her hips and tight, grinding pussy pumped hard.

Short brown hair was plastered to her head in a combination of epic bed-head and sweaty exertion. Hunched over her husband’s legs, her modest breasts dangled invitingly, her nipples and areolas engorged.

Her panting grunts and soft squeals were loud in her ears though she tried hard to contain them.

His hands felt powerful grasping the globes of her ass as she rode him frantically. But at the same time, they were loving. His fingers intruded into her ass crack teasingly. Her pale, shapely back writhed as she sought to wring more and more pleasure from their coupling.

Stacy was racing the clock. The alarm would go off at 7 and her husband had work today.

Her eyes were closed in concentration. She’d already climaxed several times but they had only served to raise her lust higher. Now she was working up to a good one, holding back and resisting release as long as possible… as long as she could stand. She needed it to finally put out the fire between her legs.

The alarm went off, the local classic rock station kicking into gear.

Crying now with the need for release, she reached for her clit, rubbing the tiny little pea desperately. She bit the back of her other hand trying to muzzle herself. The urgent tightening of her pussy caused Jared to snort and buck beneath her.

The sheets were drenched as theirs often were. Jared had already filled her cunt with his glorious essence once and her own secretions had flowed like a river over and over again as she came. The sheen of their fluids had spread as far as Jared’s chest and down past his knees. It collected thickly across his hairy balls and Stacy smeared her hand in their leavings.

She brought the dripping hand to her mouth and sucked their juices down. The salty tang tripped her over the edge. Her hand clawed out of her mouth down her body as she slammed down onto her husband a final time. Shaking and grinding and moaning all over her husband’s beautiful prick. “Please.” she groaned, barely able to form the word. “Shoot. Cum. CUM!” she said, straining to form each syllable.

Jared’s clasping hands wrenched at her buttocks, twisting her back and forth roughly. With each twist he gave a coughing, laughing grunt. One. Two. Thrrreee. FOUR!

Already buried in his wife to the root, still Jared surged up against her, muscles straining as his cock blasted her with his love once more.

Stacy was seeing stars. Each burning surge of semen across her womb sent floods of syrupy pleasure to her brain. Muttering silently, she said “thank you, thank you, thank you,” over and over again as her beloved erupted and her body shimmered with ecstasy.

The radio played on as she rolled off her man and collapsed to the bed. A minute later, her heart still racing but breathing almost under control she whispered “Your turn to make coffee. And don’t forget my mother’s here so put something on!”

She was slightly amazed when her man was actually able to lever himself out of bed. Thirty seconds later, she heard him start the shower. She was asleep before he was done and later woke to find him at the bedroom door, dressed and groomed with a piece of toast in his hand. “Gotta go, honey. Your mom’s set up in the kitchen; better get in there soon before she starts organizing your pantry.” With a grin and a wave of his toast, he was out the door.

**

God, what a miserable, freakish night it had been. Stacy felt like she hadn’t slept a wink. Only as dawn approached and she guiltily succumbed to her animal urges and vigorously screwed her husband for an hour had she finally collapsed, worries forgotten. Finally, satisfied and at peace, primitive happy chemicals flooding her brain and blanking out thoughts about her mother, Stacy had slept soundly.

For about half an hour.

Now in the shower, she was a nervous wreck. Why the hell did she have to get randy yesterday? Her stupid body. It was fine for Jared to laugh and smile and talk about never knowing when she’d get horny but for her, living inside this confusing hormone factory, it sometimes made her feel like she was going mad.

Maybe it was Jared’s puppy-dog eyes the previous morning. Stacy knew why he was getting mopey and fidgety. She’d even counted up güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri the days that morning. Six. They hadn’t made love in six days. With work and knowing her mother was about to come visit, Stacy had been focused on other things and just hadn’t felt that nice old burn for a little while.

But realizing she’d been neglecting her husband a bit got her thinking about him and his smile and laugh and gorgeous cock.

By the time she got to the office, she was horny. No big deal. She’d coped many, many times before. Hell, looking forward to jumping Jared’s bones the moment she got home usually made a day fly by and put a bounce in her step. And maybe a bit of a wiggle as well.

But she didn’t get to go home that evening. She had to go straight from work to the airport to pick up her mom. Then to the restaurant to meet Jared. Then an evening at home, the three of them in the living room catching up all normal like. Except that both mother and husband kept giving her looks when she got bitchy about tiny little things.

She really wanted Jared’s cock in her. She found herself running her fingers along the couch cushions, thinking about Jared bending her over the back and pounding her burning little…

It had been torture.

And the guest room Wendy, her mother, was staying in was right next to theirs. Stacy liked making noise when she got fucked. The freedom to climax loudly was one of the reasons she’d been eager to get their own house. It certainly wasn’t because either of them liked yard work.

She couldn’t bring herself to have sex with her mother in the next room. No matter how much she needed it (oh so she had thought). By the end of the night, Jared had realized what was bugging her. The horndog had thought it was hilarious. In the privacy of their bedroom, he was all over her, laughing and pinching her tits and suggesting that they let her mother watch.

Cheeky bastard.

But if there’s one thing Stacy has, it’s will power. She refused to fuck with her mother in the house.

So Jared had fallen asleep, somehow, with a leer on his face and a woody under the covers. Stacy had had to shift herself to sleep above the sheet so she wouldn’t just roll into his arms and start fucking in her sleep.

Bringing herself off wouldn’t work… it wasn’t good enough and she’d still end up making noise.

Midnight came and went and still her body boiled with need. She counted sheep and invoices.

2am. Take a cold shower? No, if Jared woke up, she wouldn’t be able to resist his advances again. Maybe fort up out in the living room? No damn it… she’d noticed that evening that the couch still smelled faintly of their sex; it would push her over the edge.

So she wrestled on with her inner daemon.

4am. She stood in the hallway and listened at the door to the guest room. She heard a faint movement or two and couple of heavy breaths. Was her mother asleep? Maybe Stacy could get by with a quick round with one of her toys.

No damn it, she’d been horny for too long; only a good screw from a hot, hard dick could hope to put out the fire.

As 6am approached, Stacy was kneeling beside their bed, staring at Jared in the dim glow of the alarm clock and the lights of the neighbourhood filtering in through the curtains.

She could hear his gentle breathing. His slightly parted lips glistened. He smelled like soap and Italian food and Man with a capital mmmmm.

She gently laid a hand on his chest, feeling his heart slowly beating. She closed her eyes and took in his scent deeper. Oh god. Her other hand toyed with her nipple. The gentlest touch of her finger tips on the swollen pearl felt like pure sin. Stacy continued to breathe deeply. Her entire body felt hot like she’d overexerted herself. She could feel the heat radiating from her flushed skin.

No part of her desperate body was hotter than between her legs. She didn’t need to feel her mons to know she was slick and swollen and ready. So ready. Past ready. Demanding and eager and not to be denied.

Irresistible.

She stood, sweeping the covers off the bed. Before Jared stirred, she pressed a hand across his mouth and lithely mounted her man.

His eyes opened in bleary surprise, a pointless question muffled beneath Stacy’s tense muzzle. She was dimly silhouetted above him… tall seeming and feminine and slightly mad. He groaned as her dripping beaver slid against his sleeping manhood and ground against his groin.

She stared down at him, her need communicated without words. In thirty seconds he was as hard as her ardour. With practised ease she hitched her hips, captured the swollen crown of that glorious cock and took him right to the balls.

Then the Lancasters fucked.

And eventually Jared left for work. Wendy was down in the kitchen and Stacy was here in the shower, dreading the day of “mother daughter time” ahead. What would Wendy have to say to her shameless, randy daughter?

**

Fluffy güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri cotton robe tied firmly shut, hair in as good a shape as it was likely to get that day, Stacy tried to act casual as she entered the kitchen. Her mother was at the table with her laptop open to some news and an empty plate of what had probably been scrambled eggs in front of her. Wendy looked up at her daughter. “Hi honey. There’s beaten eggs ready and some chopped ham and onions left.”

Stacy looked at the ingredients. She turned the heat on under the pan. She was taking the day off to be with her mother and eggs did sound good. But still she said with some exasperation, “Mother! Guests aren’t supposed to make breakfast.”

Wendy made a noise. “I’m not a guest, I’m your mother. This is a vacation for you too and I don’t spend forty or fifty hours a week in an office. You deserve to be treated nice too you know.”

She paused for a moment, an indecipherable expression on her face. “Though I’m sure Jared treats you good. He sure was chipper this morning.”

Stacy blushed as she poured the eggs into the warm pan.

She glanced at Wendy. Her mother was fully dressed in an ordinary blouse and jeans. Her short black hair was darker and had a lot more curl than Stacy’s. She didn’t know for sure that her mother dyed it but it was likely.

At a bit past fifty, Wendy basically just looked her age. A few worry lines here, quite a bit of extra padding there and there. Wendy was a little taller than her daughter… Stacy’s father Hal was a rather small man.

Wendy still moved through life with a good deal of energy. She’d never been to a gym or been interested in any sport, even the golf her husband lived for. But she was not an idle kind of person; constantly attending, or quite often, running, this function or that. She also watched her diet somewhat. Her main role in life was to manage the social calendar of her moderately wealthy husband. So, her body was comfortable but not gone entirely to seed.

When she was younger, Stacy had wondered if she’d have a body like her mother. Back then, there’d been a good deal less droop and spread to Mrs. Schnabel’s figure but she’d always had a lush look about her. Big, commanding breasts and plenty of junk in the trunk. Her waist had fluctuated over the years… at times she’d possessed quite an hourglass figure but other times tended toward a bit dumpy.

Stacy had never really “filled out” that way but she also didn’t have quite the battle with the bulge her mother did. Nice hips blending with a decent waist and modest but perfectly shaped breasts. Her body may fail to stop traffic but it was healthy and decidedly feminine.

As had always been the tradition in the Schnabel household, Stacy did not attempt to make an omelet, instead stirring up the eggs to make them scrambled, loaded with ham and onion. Dang, no cheese in the house.

Wendy read silently while Stacy cooked and plated her scamblet. Grapefruit juice and toast. The silence continued for a time. Stacy became aware that Wendy was studying her. She raised her brows at her mother in question. Wendy tried to be casual. “You’re in a better mood this morning.” she said.

Stacy swallowed a bite of toast. “Better than last night you mean? Sorry, it was just a long day I guess.”

Wendy made a non-committal sound. “Did you sleep well?”

Wendy’s teenage years had been pretty average. Lots of arguments with her parents. Lots of lies and punishments… well, perhaps not lots but some at least. During that time, Stacy had never had any difficulty lying to her father. In so many ways, he had been the enemy. A prudish stick in the mud. They’d loved one another but Stacy had hated his draconian rule.

Still, she’d had a fairly happy childhood and frankly had gotten away with a lot. Lying to dad had been easy and he’d been naive in a lot of ways.

Lying to her mother had been another story. She hated doing and was bad at it as well. When Wendy asked her daughter a question, she pretty much always got an honest answer. And in fact, Wendy had been aware of her daughter’s struggles and sympathized with them. She couldn’t bring herself to conspire against her husband but she did not go out of her way to back up Hal either. Wendy had used her motherly powers of interrogation sparingly over the years.

Now Stacy had to answer a direct question. Had she slept well? “Uh… not really. Kind of stressed I guess. Glad I’m getting some time off.” she said weakly.

“Well, I hope you can relax and enjoy it. I slept well, by the way.” said Wendy.

“I’m glad” Stacy said. ~Is this conversation as awkward as it feels?~ She wondered. Her mother had something on her mind.

“Something did wake me up early this morning though.” her mother went on, a smile beginning to dawn in her eyes.

Stacy froze. She felt her face get warm. She opened her mouth but couldn’t think of what to say. Why couldn’t her mother just pretend nothing güvenilir bahis şirketleri had happened?

Wendy let her daughter squirm for a few seconds before reaching a hand to touch her daughter’s across the table. “Stace honey, look at me.”

Stacy did. Were there tears in her mother’s eyes? Stacy was confused and embarrassed and a little mad at her mother but Wendy just said, “Oh baby I’m so glad Jared is good to you. I was so worried. I was afraid you’d get stuck with a damn sexless prig like I did.”

Stacy was speechless. Her mouth just hung open until she clomped it shut before the scrambled eggs slid out. She swallowed. “Whaaa?”

Wendy was grinning and crying. “Jared’s good to you, right baby? I heard you this morning. You sounded so happy! And my god, I thought it would never end!”

She leaned even closer and whispered “Hearing you two made my panties so wet.”

Stacy dropped her fork and covered her face. “OH god, I’m going to die.” she groaned.

Her mother made placating gesture. “Ssh ssh ssh, no no dear. Don’t be that way. Don’t ever be ashamed of being happy. I wouldn’t have said anything except… well I don’t know, I’m just jealous I guess.” Then she hastened to add, “But very happy for you.”

The two women were silent for a bit. Wendy sipped her coffee. Hands still over her face, Stacy spread her fingers and looked at her mother. “I knew you must have heard us. I was afraid you’d be mad.”

“For heaven’s sake, why? Dear, there’s nothing wrong with sex.” Wendy sighed. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I was never there for you, was I?” Wendy looked down at her empty plate. “I’ve been worried about you. I thought we might have screwed you up.”

Stacy lowered her hands. “What do you mean? You and dad? How?”

Wendy made an angry gesture. “Oh, your father. If I’d know what a fucking prude he was I never would have married him!”

“Mother!” Stacie yelped, appalled.

“I thought he was just inexperienced and shy. He was kind of cute and let’s face it dear, his family was loaded. So I married him. I thought the sex would get better but it really, really did not get better.”

Still appalled, the daughter couldn’t help but ask, “What do you mean?”

Wendy pressed her lips together. “I shouldn’t be talking about this. It’s not fair to your father. He can’t help what he is and I choose to stay with him. I guess I’m weak or a coward or something.”

She gazed at her daughter, “But I really shouldn’t have let his hang ups prevent me from teaching you about the world like a mother should.”

“Woah, just back up mom. You were a great mother! What do you mean you thought you screwed me up?”

“Well we never talked about sex. Or boys. Your father has this attitude about sex; that it’s gross and unpleasant and he thought he could shelter you or something.” Wendy let out a breath through puffed up cheeks. “I didn’t think it was right for a wife to defy her husband on something like that so I kind of just followed his lead.”

Stacy just sat there for a bit. “Well mom, whatever you were worried about, everything is fine. Jared and I are very happy and I don’t have any hang-ups or whatever.” She briefly had a couple of thoughts about what she and Jared and also some of their swinging friends had gotten up to. She wondered how her mother would react to all the revelations she could lay on her. Then she chilled inside at the mere thought. Perhaps her mother was not as prudish as Stacy had always assumed but there was having a happy sex life with her husband and there was getting royally fucked in a room full of naked swingers.

Silence drug on. Awkwardly, Stacy asked, “So, dad isn’t…” what was she going to say? Good in bed? “Isn’t, uh, interested in sex?”

Wendy shook her head, lips pressed thin again. “No. I don’t think they had a word for it back when we met but now-a-days he’d probably be considered a-sexual or something.” She let the words sink in for a moment. “It’s not even about morality or religion or anything, he just doesn’t seem to be wired for sex!” She said, the final sentence coming out in a rising rush of exasperation.

“He hasn’t touched me in twenty years.” she added quietly.

What could a daughter say to that? But it made her wonder what kind of person her mother had been before marriage. Before she could think better of it, the words tumbled out of her mouth. “Was dad your first?”

Wendy looked quietly at her daughter. Well, she’d failed her as a budding woman and also, she had just asked a direct question. Knowing how Stacy felt about those, the mother could do nothing but answer truthfully.”

“No, he wasn’t. Not by at least a dozen.” she said.

All Stacy could say was “Woah.”

In for a penny, in for a pound. Turn about is fair play. What’s good for the goose… “Was Jared your first?”

Stacy shook her head. “But I don’t think there were more than ten before Jared.” She very carefully did not think about the count since Jared.

Wendy kind of chuckled. “Well then I guess we really didn’t screw you up.”

At this point, the conversation should either just end or… follow certain logical paths. For some reason, after hearing her daughter and son-in-law make love that morning and making her confessions, Wendy just couldn’t let the subject drop.

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