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Are These Things Planned Somehow? Ch. 03

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Firstly, thank you all again for the support for my stories. It’s a real lift to get feedback.

Thanks again to my editor, OntarioBob, his input is painful but worth the wait! (He understands my humour also, luckily.)

Enjoy this third part, developing the series further. As ever, all participants in the story are over 18, this being a work of fiction.

Please read Parts 1&2…


We arrived at ‘The Malt Shovel’, our favourite place to eat as a family. Dad had already booked us one of the half circle shaped tables that had a bench seat sweeping around it, a secluded spot in the back, windows looking out across the pub garden, the river running left to right at the bottom. The table cloths, black chequered pattern, reach nearly to the floor. We all slid around the seats, mum went first, sitting at the apex, I was next, entering the left side, then Sarah, favouring the right, Dad stayed standing, asking what we all wanted to drink.

Order taken, two Gin and Tonics, one for mum, one for Sarah, a glass of the local brewed beer for me, dad sloped off to the bar, rounding the large, open fireplace, disappearing from our view.

“We had such a fun time shopping.” Sarah spoke, then continued, “can’t wait to show you what we bought.” Her excitement showing in her eyes.

“Any clues apart from the ‘white hot’ undies?” I replied, smiling at mum.

“She told you that huh,” mum exclaimed, playfully slapping Sarah’s arm, “I told her to keep it a secret.”

“I can only imagine what you’ve got mum, knowing the colour doesn’t give much away now does it?” I replied, mum’s eyes showed excitement.

“Luckily, I stopped Sarah from taking photos of me with her phone, it was hard enough keeping our hands off each other as it was.” Mum whispered, a sexy tone in her voice.

My mind started to spin, the two of them, touching and appreciating each other, then buying what they thought was sexiest!

“I think the shoe sales guy was the most appreciative mum.” Sarah whispered, then giggled.

“mmm yes” mum paused, her voice still low, “two knicker less ladies, opening and closing their legs, I’m sure he could smell my arousal, don’t you Sarah?” They both giggled again.

“You teasing our son again?” Dad announced as he placed the tray of drinks on the table.

“Just going over what we bought darling.” Mum replied, then continued, “Don’t worry, you’ll be suitably impressed with my new wardrobe.”

Dad sat next to Sarah, each of us grabbing our drink, dad raised his glass, “to my wonderful family” he toasted, all of us clinking glasses.

“I love you all dearly” mum said, taking a long sip of her drink after.

“I thought you might be teasing Alex about his old teacher, the one he couldn’t keep his eyes off as she walked off to the church.” Dad smiled, I blushed, deep red.

“Oh, really,” mum started, “and which teacher would this be?”

Picking up the large menu, I started to read it, “mmm, the steaks look good.” I said, trying to avert the question.

“Alex,” Sarah piped in, “spill the beans about the teacher… Oh wait, let me guess, Miss Seymour.”

I looked over the menu, red face giving away the answer.

“Oh, I remember her,” mum said, “wasn’t she the teacher crush for your friends and you, bit of a hippy type though?”

Dad spoke, face hidden by a menu, “from what I saw, I’m not surprised she was, definitely not a hippy type today, she had curves in all the right places, new she was being watched.”

We all laughed, Sarah said “I know two pairs of eyes that were looking at her, it’s what thoughts you were having that worry me though.” She sniggered, dad squirmed in his seat.

“I agree with Alex, these steaks look mighty fine.” Dad retorted, plopping his menu down on the table, then continued, “what we all having?”

“A midlife crisis in your case dear,” mum said, then we all laughed, dad reddened.

“Window shopping, I think you called it mum,” I piped in, “looking but not handling the goods.”

“I’m with Sarah, its what you were thinking about that worries us.” Mum finished, smiling, the little creases at the corner of her eyes making her look so sexy to me.

“Out of my league I think, anyway, right now, I need to feed my stomach, rib eye steak for me please dad, all the trimmings.”

Mum and Sarah ordered soup and sandwiches, dad went off to the bar to order.

“Did she remember you?” mum asked me, her hand sliding under the table, laying on top of my thigh.

“Yes, it took me a few seconds to recognise her, she’s filled out a bit since I left college.”

“Fat?” Sarah asked.

“No, definitely not fat.” I replied.

“I’d heard she had a boob job.” Mum said, squeezing my thigh, her hand sliding upwards.

“That makes sense.” I said, wishing I hadn’t said it.

“Had them on display, did she?” Sarah asked, my face reddening again.

“I may have noticed them in the dress she was wearing, though it could have been one of those wonderful bras.” I replied.

“You casino siteleri mean wonder bra.” Mum said.

“Whatever you call them, they make things look wonderful to me.” I smiled.

“I should model mine for you.” Sarah whispered.

“Me too.” Mum said, her hand sliding over the outline of my cock.

“You too what?” dad questioned, sliding back in beside Sarah.

“Looking forward to lunch dear, I’m famished, looking forward to something hot and tasty.” Mums hand squeezed my cock.

“Should be 10 to 15 minutes.” Dad said, then continued, “It’s been a year since we were last here, I think,”

We all agreed, chatted about past dinners in the garden, the grumpy owners that first bought the pub years ago, how good it was now, good mannered family chat.

After our meals arrived and they were ‘demolished’ by us all, Mum and Sarah shared a dessert, a huge ice cream sundae, various sexy noises being made as they worked down it. Dad left to visit the gents, Sarah and mum started feeding each other with the long spoons, chocolate sauce running down mom’s chin, dropped onto her left breast, Sarah’s finger, scooping it off, offered to me. I sucked slowly, swirling my tongue around her finger.

“Bet your Miss Seymour wouldn’t do that with you.” Sarah smiled, was she jealous?

“Why would she?” I asked back.

“I think your smitten.” Sarah said, then laughed.

“With the two women sat before me yes,” I answered, “and they are more than enough for me right now.”

“Trying to flatter us now?” mum smiled, her hand returning, squeezing my cock again.

My cock responded to her touch, engorging, filling what little space there was in my boxers.

“I’ve paid the bill,” dad said, returning to the table, “shall we go?”

“Thank you dear, this was a very pleasant lunch, I’m ready if you all are.” Mum squeezed my cock in rhythm to her words.

We all gathered our various jackets, I was a little slow at moving, for obvious reasons. “Nice to see you’re hard, I haven’t lost my touch.” mum whispered in my ear. “I think I would have preferred that for dessert.” She finished.

I slid round the bench slowly, Sarah smiling at my discomfort. Luckily, dad was walking off towards the exit, I followed behind mum, my jacket, hiding my bulge.

The drive home, accompanied by dad’s music, seemed a quiet affair. The lunch and drinks taking their toll on all of us.

Arriving home, we all helped taking in the shopping bags, mum announcing “No peaking boys.”

Sarah and mum disappeared upstairs, dad offering to make latte coffee for us all. I slumped on a sofa, hushed giggling wafting down the stair well. Those girls are up to something, but what?

Dad came through from the kitchen, called upstairs, asking if he should bring them up, mum answered, ‘they would be down in a minute.’ Dad delivered three mugs, said he was just going out to the garden shed, check out the mower so he could cut the grass tomorrow.

I was sipping my hot drink, the steam still rising from the top. The dull footsteps, slightly creaking steps, signalling the arrival of mom down the stairs.

Before me, a vision of sophistication. Mum’s hair, bunched up, a large hair grip holding it all in place. The little black dress, form fitting, a deep V neckline, plunging just below the level of her beasts, she couldn’t be wearing a bra. Hem finished midthigh, dark grey stockings, silk looking, not nylon, encasing her legs. Black suede stiletto heels, making her calves taught as she walked around the lounge area. As she passed me, the small slit in the back, opened slightly, gaped by the movement of her ass and legs. The tiniest glimpse of a lace stocking top.

“I take it you approve young man.” Mum said, hands on hips, one leg bent forward.

I couldn’t speak really, just nodded, there was also mums perfume filling the air now.

“I’ll take your silence as approval then,” mum chuckled, “where’s you dad?”

I pointed, “Garden.”

Mum walked over to the kitchen door, peered outside, the noise of the mower starting, confirming his whereabouts.

She stood in the doorway, looking out to dad, reached down, pulled the hem of her dress slowly, upwards. First the stocking tops, lace, garter straps attached, creamy skin of her thighs, her ass cheeks, the hem tightening around it, even slower movement. Black lace panties, thong style, a single band, splitting her cheeks. At the waist, the thin band, two straps from the garter belt, slid inside, running straight down the backs of her thigh.

“Fuck.” I breathed out slowly.

“mmmm, that would be nice dear.” Mum giggled, still looking away from me.

I didn’t know if it was an invitation, rising from my seat, placing my mug down, walking up behind her, hands grabbing an ass cheek each, squeezing them, a moan escaping her lips. Pushing my pelvis forward, my growing bulge nudging into the lower part of her ass.

“You made me hard at lunch, maybe I should make you wet, then leave canlı casino you.” I said, a deep toned whisper into her ear.

Mum purred back, “I’m already wet, can’t stop thinking about your…” her sharp intake of breath, I ripped the thong from her body, “Oh, god… yes, you bad boy.”

I balled the thong, lifted it to my nose, breathed in deeply, the sent, fresh, musty, the damp lace, warm on my nose.

“When did you work it out?” Mum asked. Her breathing, deeper.

“I’m not sure I did work it out, just felt the right thing to do.” I replied.

“You know what else… I want?” she stated.

On instinct, I raised my right hand, ‘thwack’ as it hit her ass cheek.

Mum gasped, a light pink hand print left behind. “Oh god Alex, how did you…”

‘Thwack’, another blow to the same side, darkening the skin more red.

“If…” thwack, “only…” thwack, “your…” thwack, “father…” thwack. Mums legs trembled at this point, she tottered about, unsteady in her heels.

I grabbed her hips, holding her back upright. “You’re a total slut mum, aren’t you?”

“Oh, son… I need this, more than you know. I’ve craved it my whole marriage.”

“Who knows about it?” I whispered, my lips close to her ear, my groin nudging her, grinding against her reddened ass.

“Sarah, a little, your dad, but he’s not able, not in him.” She paused, “Val knows too, seen it actually, when we were younger.”

“Did you two perform together?” still whispering in her ear, low toned, urgent. My hands pulling her hips back, the friction of my jeans, rasping her ass.

Mum, still breathing deeply, didn’t reply. I moved backward, ‘thwack’, another blow to the red area. She winced, bent forward slightly. Hips grabbed again, sharper pressure, I pulled back, cock now fully erect, bulge prominent, pushing into her stinging skin.

“Silence means yes I take it?” hard bumps of my groin against her, little moans escaping her lips.

I reached around, my right hand, cupped her pussy. Mum pushed against it, needy for the contact. Two fingers, plunging in, wet, hot, she tightened, my fingers squeezed by her pulsing vagina.

The mower stopped, we both froze. My fingers still buried, her breathing held. Dad whistling, getting louder. We broke free, she kissed hard, quickly. Her ass, naked, disappearing up the stairs on unsteady legs. Walking back to the sofa, licking my fingers, mum’s scent, salty taste, driving signals to my cock.

I chatted to dad, discussing his view of the lawn mower, plans for the garden, replying on autopilot, realisation of mums needs, suddenly flooding my mind. Aunt Val, a sexier image unfolding, a lush form, defined by soft curves. Like mum, killer legs attached to flared hips. My mind racing now, scenarios of their younger days, teasing together, watching, encouraging their inner slut to the fore, driving their lust, two wanton, submissive females.

I was delving through my mind, trying to source memories of old photos, mum and Val in bikinis, on holidays we shared. One memory in particular, when I was 12 years old, on a motor boat, hired for a day by dad. Both, bikini clad, lying on the foredeck, lotion being applied by the other, laughing, hands all over each other’s bodies, nipples clearly visible, excited. Finishing application, Val, slapping mum’s ass once, playfully, nothing more than a smile between them, a knowing look, a wink.

Other instances, now flooding from my memory. Swimming together, trying to pull each other’s suits off, Val succeeding with mum’s top. Aftermath of a family BBQ, me, walking out to Aunt Val’s garden, two bikinis, laying on the floor, discarded, next to the Jacuzzi. Aunt Val appearing, not embarrassed when scooping them up, what did they got up to in there?

Sarah’s voice, next to my ear, ‘wakey wakey’, softly, bringing me out of my slumber.

Neck ache, falling asleep at a bad angle. Now dark outside, room softly lit, only by table lamps. Mum chatting, on the phone I guessed, dad reading, well, half reading the paper, across from me, face hidden. “Must have been a good dream,” her voice still soft, standing, bent over, “judging by that bulge I mean.”

Hurriedly looking down, sitting bolt upright, had dad noticed it?

“Must have drifted off.” I mustered, then yawning, stretching, feeling my neck, crossing my legs, trying to hide my bulge.

“Mum’s on the phone, arranging to go to Aunt Val, dads going also, looks like just you and me again tonight.” She slumped down, next to me, the Vee neck T shirt, affording a breast side view. Finally, I looked up at her eyes, falling into them, that innocent, dreamy look, drawing me in. “Like my new T shirt then?” she questioned, pulling it down tight, the vee deepening, nipples clearly outlined, aroused.

“Looks nice, perky and soft.” I replied, not really fully awake.

Sarah’s hand grabbed, squeezed my bulge quickly, “Something else looks perky too.” She giggled, jumping up, only then I noticed her mini skirt, flash of white lace thong, as kaçak casino it settled back on her thighs.

Mum came through from the office, apparently Aunt Val needed her help again. Dad resigned himself to be chauffer, his paper curled under his arm, know doubt ready for more reading later. Mum apologised for running off again, said they would be back late and not to wait up.

She walked out to the hallway, I noticed, finally, her tight jeans, sprayed on, white T shirt. The Vee at the front, deep like Sarah’s, most definitely wearing one of those wonderful bras, both orbs and cleavage deliciously visible. Dad walked off to the garage, through the kitchen, out the joining door, “see you later kiddies.” He cheekily said.

Mum came back, coat slung over her arm, my eyes focused on her breasts. “Eyes up here,” mum whispered, “I told you earlier, I have a good range of these bras.” A cheeky smile on her lips.

“He’s been dreaming about them,” Sarah arrived at my side, “caught him with a huge bulge on the couch mum.”

“Dreaming about your Miss Seymour?” mum cheekily asked.

“It may surprise you to know, it was two females actually.” I said confidently.

Mum stepped forward, a quick, hard kiss, then the same for Sarah. “You two have fun now, don’t do anything I wouldn’t!” she finished, turning on her heels and exiting the front door.

Sarah and I filled the doorway, waving goodbye to them, the car leaving the driveway, turning left as they drove off to aunt Val.

We turned, me grabbing the door, shutting it, a dull thud as it latched. As I turned, Sarah dropped to her knees, grabbing at my Jeans, undoing them in quick time. Looking down, her hair, neatly tied back in a ponytail, the valley of her breasts, enticing. Her hands delving inside, pulling, eager, easing my cock out. No foreplay, hungry, lips open, sucking me halfway inside, the warmth exciting me, shaft engorging, her tongue sliding around my glands.

She sucked harder, bobbed deeper, cock touching the back of her throat. Our eyes met, the lust for each other deepening, tingling balls, her fingers scrapping around my sac.

My arousal, heightened by her warm mouth, the vibrations of her moans. She stopped bobbing, holding the mushroom end in her lips, tickling my hole with the tip of her tongue.

Releasing it, she stood. Slowly making her way up my body, hands still teasing my ball sac.

Whispering in my ear, “Don’t freak Alex, OK?”

“I won’t. What’s on your mind?” I replied

“Well, two of my boyfriend’s left me because they thought I was a complete slut. Not because I’d cheated on them, I hadn’t, but because they found some of my, um, tastes bizarre.”

I hugged her, more for encouragement, “Their loss, my gain I guess.”

“Yes indeed, but I think I can trust you implicitly, you’ve earned it. So here goes.” She paused, taking in a shallow breath. “Anal, there, I said it.”

“Is that it, at least you didn’t say you got horny looking at horses’ cocks or something. Did you find these guys at an Anti-Fun party or something?”

She laughed, partly at my joke but mostly in relief. I kissed her, fully, hot and quick. “Thanks for trusting me with that, it’s really important to me.”

“You’re not freaked, disgusted?” She still look concerned.

“Hell no. I’m your guy. I’ll let you into a secret, I’ve done it many times.”

In the dim light I could see open-mouthed delight on her face, then she spoke: “Alright, wonderful. Follow me.”

She grabbed my hand, I found it hard to keep up with her, my trousers gapping at the front. She led me to the basement, it was a sort of visitor’s guest room, en-suite. We used to have to share it when younger and big family gatherings took place. We top and tailed in the large double bed.

Opening the en-suite door she led me inside, not shutting the door. The large ‘walk in’ glass shower cubicle had one of those rain head fitments, central, about the size of a dustbin lid. Tiles were floor to ceiling, simple terracotta and white stripes. The door, sliding type, left open.

Noticing Sarah undressing, I watched, her body lithe, bending this way, then that, she discarded her clothes. Standing now, her lingerie, white, virginal, all lace, French cut knickers, hugging her curves, complimenting a half cup bra. Nipples just visible, clearly erect, she smiled, posed and twirled gracefully.

“Ah, I get it now,” my mind flashing back to the shopping trip, “new are they?”

“Yes, they feel so sexy on, like nothing I’ve ever had, mum took me to this shop, they’re made of silk and cotton, feel.”

She grabbed my hand, bumping it passed my cock, placing it on her hip. Lazily, I traced my fingers over the band, around her shapely ass, coming back to the front. Fingers exploring the puffiness, warmth of her pussy, up over her mound, then back along the side to her ass. Realising, I’d never get bored of touching her.

Sarah turned, reached into the shower, turned on the water, my hand still in contact with her ass, bending forward slightly, extending her arm, adjusting the temperature.

I flipped her hair away from her back, exposing her slender neck, licking, kissing up to her sumptuous nape. Her skin tasted like honey, smelled of coconuts.

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