Packing Up

A short incest piece this time. It seems his friend's mother has designs on Alan. he makes a move and then her son walks in.

I hope you enjoy the piece; even as short as it is.

Feedback, as ever, is appreciated.

GA - Bangkok, Thailand - 15th January 2014.

MY FRIEND John volunteered us both the help his mother pack up the house. Not that it was any problem to me, I didn't mind helping Mrs Lloyd in her hour of need, not at all, and not least because I thought my friend's mother was easy on the eye. I admit I had a 'thing' for Sabrina Lloyd, after all I think she's an easy-going lady with a quick smile, dead sexy, tall and slim, very leggy with a fantastic bottom. She hasn't got much in the boob department, she isn't one of those older ladies with big bubbly breasts, but they're not fried eggs either, and besides, with a backside like hers she doesn't need big tits -- not in my youthful opinion anyway. Mrs Lloyd reminds me a little of Annie Lennox as she was back in the day. She wears her hair short, coloured startling platinum that really suits her. Yeah, I'd say I had an interest in my friend's mother, so helping her pack the house after it sold wasn't much of a hardship.

The plan was that John and I would go round to the house on the Friday evening after work to make a start. Then we'd break the back of the job on Saturday, finishing up on the Sunday. Then, while she got her life sorted out, Mrs Lloyd was going to live with her son and me in the flat we shared, Sabrina taking John's room while he camped out in the living room.

Simple.

And so it went, with Friday night given over to a few hours packing before Mrs Lloyd broke open a bottle of wine and offered the two of us beers from the fridge. John ordered Domino's Pizza and we had ourselves a nice cosy gathering, with me doing my best to keep Mrs Lloyd smiling. I was feeling a little sorry for Mrs Lloyd that night, she'd been in a sombre mood early on, and it didn't take much to figure out she was feeling the wrench of having to leave the house she'd lived in for twenty years, a double-whammy following her divorce.

"Well," Sabrina Lloyd said, raising her glass as we sat at the dining room table, boxes and old newspapers everywhere. "Cheers, boys. Thanks for helping me."

She chinked her glass against our bottles and we all drank, the conversation going to our future living arrangements. Then John excused himself and left the table, claiming the need to pee, and that was when Mrs Lloyd said it.

SHE LOOKED at me as we sat in silence just after John left. I noticed her look and felt the weight of her appraisal, which had m squirming a little under its intensity.

"It'll be all right, won't it, Alan?" Mrs Lloyd asked. "You know," she added, "me living at your place."

I shrugged, oddly disturbed by Sabrina's expression, unable to figure out why I was so uncomfortable as I replied with, "John pays half the rent, Mrs Lloyd. I can't object to his mum staying for a while, can I? Not that I would," I added quickly, concerned that Sabrina might misunderstand me, "but I reckon it'll be okay having you stay."

Sabrina Lloyd blinked and sipped wine, glancing at the door before she spoke again. "What I mean, Alan," she began, enunciating precisely, speaking slowly, "is how will it be for you, having me living in the flat? We're going to be on top of one another ... metaphorically speaking." Mrs Lloyd paused and smirked, that grin sending a frisson of arousal through me to add to my befuddled state of mind.

I did consider a rejoinder, some puerile quip about being on top of Mrs Lloyd, but then I remembered she was my friend's mother and decided against it.

"What I'm getting at," Sabrina Lloyd continued, "is that I get a sense that you quite like me, Alan. You know," she added, her voice low and husky, "like me as in wouldn't mind if something intimate occurred between us."

To say I was astonished by that would be a classic understatement. I sat there with my face warming while mortification churned in my guts. Mrs Lloyd had obviously intuited my interest in her, or perhaps I'd just been obvious about it, either way her comments had me gawping at her, mouth working like a landed fish, my eyes wide and staring, speech an impossibility.

Sabrina Lloyd laughed, letting out a rich, throaty chuckle when she saw my discomfit.

"Am I right, Alan?" Mrs Lloyd asked, patting the back of my hand. "Do you fancy me? Just a little bit?"

"Uh," I managed. "Mrs Lloyd, I..." I was flustered, floundering around for articulate speech, also aware that John might return at any moment, realising that if he came in and saw my beetroot face and my mouth flapping he'd be bound to ask what was wrong.

"You don't have to answer, Alan," Sabrina Lloyd said when it was obvious I was in no fit state to respond properly. "And don't be embarrassed. It's lovely to have a young man's good opinion. I feel good when I think about you looking at me. I go all ... tingly."

"Mrs Lloyd," I finally croaked. "I ... I..."

"Do you think it's going to be an interesting time, Alan?" Sabrina Lloyd continued. "Me and you under the same roof?" She leaned in across the table, her eyes fixed on my face. "You know what," she breathed, "I wouldn't mind if you kissed me, Alan."

I swigged at the bottle when I heard the toilet flush upstairs.

"John's coming," I said, panic rising inside me. "Mrs Lloyd, I..."

The woman just looked at me. She leaned back and draped an arm over the upright back of the chair as she stared at me, smirking.

"All right, Alan," she said, swirling wine in her glass. "But this is unfinished business."

And a few moments later, while my mind whirled at the startling realisation that the delicious Mrs Lloyd might actually want to fuck, with part of me elated at the prospect, another part of me scared shitless -- not to mention the anxiety I felt at potentially betraying my best friend -- John reappeared.

"Any pizza left?" he asked, apparently not noticing my flushed face and shifty demeanour.

I left the house not long after that. John was spending the night there, and I was due to head round at 8am the next morning. I had to get away. I had to get away from Mrs Lloyd so I could think about what she'd said. I needed a little time to recover and to formulate a response. There was no way I could kiss John's mother. It could only lead to anguish. John would find out, he was bound to, and a secret like that would rip us apart. We'd been friends forever, had moved into the flat in our quest to be free from parental interference, pooling our resources so we could afford the rent on the place. If I slept with his mother, no matter how attracted I was to her, it would be sure to end in tears.

Nevertheless, with those issues buzzing around inside my head, I still tugged my cock and fantasised about Sabrina Lloyd and her long legs and fantastic derriere, gasping and grunting as the jizm spurted out of me, my cock hardly diminished following that glorious ejaculation.

I lay in bed and contemplated tugging my dick again, deciding to forego the pleasure until the morning, instead turning the problem of how to deflect Sabrina Lloyd's advances without offending or upsetting her.

I had no idea of what I would encounter the next morning.

*

WHEN I arrived at just after eight following a disturbed night and a frantic wank, I found Mrs Lloyd alone.

"John's had to go into work," she informed me. "He got a call last night, after you left. He said he should be back at midday to help us."

I thought it was weird at the time that John had been given a call and not me. Usually, if there was anything to be done on a Saturday we would have been told about it during the week, and if there had been some kind of unforeseen occurrence I'd have expected us both to get the word we were needed.

"I don't think it's anything major," Sabrina Lloyd said when I mentioned calling in to see if I could help at all. "And besides," she added, "there's plenty to do here."

I nodded and shrugged and put my mobile phone back in my jacket pocket.

"Okay, Mrs Lloyd," I said, avoiding the woman's eyes. "Where do we start?" I looked around at the chaos of the living room, wondering if we would manage to get the job done in a weekend.

"We could start where you and I left off last night, Alan," Sabrina Lloyd murmured. Then she was next to me, her palm right against the front of my jeans. "I thought that perhaps we could try a little kiss? And perhaps I could wank your cock ... or maybe suck it, Alan. How about we start the day off with a nice little fuck?"

That approach, the direct assault and her hand on my penis had me stiff in moments. As shocked as I was by Sabrina Lloyd's bold and assertive approach I still responded eagerly when she moved in for a kiss.

My friend's mother had my jeans around my shins less than a minute after our first kiss. She was out of her dress, standing there in her shoes and underwear, a very impressive white bra and thong set, with the string of the lower garment looped high on her hips making Sabrina's legs look even longer. She cranked at my cock, our mouths locked as our tongues slid and rolled.

"You're going to fuck me," the woman breathed into my ear, her fist sending tingles through my erect penis. "You're going to fuck me with this lovely big cock, Alan." Sabrina gasped and then sighed, squirming and wriggling as she stared at the stiff length of me in her hand. "Do you want to that, darling?" she mumbled, eyes glazing with desire. "Would you like to put this thing into my pussy?"

"Mrs Lloyd," I groaned. "Shit, Mrs Lloyd, yes. You're ... you're beautiful."

"Oh, come on, Alan," she replied, "I'm old enough to be your mother." Then she chuckled, a dark snigger that coiled out of her.

Sabrina Lloyd took a step away from me, a pace backwards as her hands went up behind her. She unsnapped her bra, holding the cups to her chest for a moment before she turned.

I gasped and stroked my cock when I saw her gorgeous posterior. Mrs Lloyd glanced back at me, smirking over a shoulder. She dropped the bra to the floor and turned to face me.

"If I was your mother, Alan," the woman breathed, "would you still want to fuck me?"

The question astounded me. "What?" I gurgled.

"If," she said, taking a step towards me, her body a couple of inches from mine. "If I was your mother, Alan, and I wanted you to put your fat cock into my pussy ... Would you do it?"

Something uncurled inside me. It was a murky sensation, a swirl on the surface of some deep pool, a creature that slithered in the cloudy pit of my psyche.

"Mrs Lloyd," I croaked, "I ... I..."

"I'd want you to fuck me," the woman went on, relentless. "Why don't we pretend that you're my son, darling? We could play a game. We could do it and pretend I'm your mother." She took hold of me again, her fingers replacing my fist. Mrs Lloyd stroked me, her voice a whisper, low and narcotic. "Let me suck your cock, Alan. Let mummy suck her son's big dick."

And then she was down there, kneeling, her hand cranking at me as she grinned up to my face.

I watched Mrs Lloyd slip a hand beneath the string waistband of her thong. She fingered herself, her underwear bulging like kittens squirming in a sack before she winced and moaned and leaned in to pop the head of my cock between her pursed lips.

Mrs Lloyd sucked me for a few seconds before letting the purple dome plop from her mouth. "Let mummy suck your cock, baby," she crooned, eyes shining as she stared at my length, her hand working back and forth. "Do you like that Alan?" she asked. "Is it good, baby?"

I croaked out that it felt good, that I loved the way she touched me and the way she said all those dirty things.

"What about if I told you I sucked John's cock last night, Alan? How about that? What about if I sucked my son's dick and then let him fuck me?"

"I think I wish I was him, Mrs Lloyd," I mumbled. Sabrina Lloyd's allusion to incest had worked on me, and I was simultaneously appalled and enthralled. Part of my mind still capable of lucid thought knew she was only playing her game, it was simply a perversion on her part; I was shocked that John's mother could consider incest, even as role-play, but the taboo aspect of it, the dark secrecy such an illicit act required appealed to me too. "I wish I was your son," I added."

"Would you really let me suck your cock like this if I was, Alan?" Mrs Lloyd sighed. She yanked at me and fingered her pussy and slurped at my penis, gasping and moaning as she kept her eyes locked on mine, working her magic as she somehow managed to smirk around her mouthful of my gristle. "If I was your mother, Alan," she added after my cock eased from between her lips. "Would you honestly let e suck your cock?"

"Oh yes, Mrs Lloyd," I groaned. It was really working, the heat of that forbidden suggestion flared inside me. I was growing ever more frantic, the pleasure my friend's mother caused me was making me wild. Desperation swelled in my chest. It was suddenly difficult to suck in air. My toes were twitching, my buttocks were clenching and I could feel the surge threatening. "If you were my mother," I gurgled, "Oh, Mrs Lloyd ... If you were my mother I'd fuck you every chance I got. Please," I said, the urgency of my need cracking in my voice, "can I fuck you now?"

"Call me Mummy," Sabrina Lloyd breathed as she rose to her feet, unsteady in her shoes. "Come on, my lovely boy." She paused and pressed her lean torso against me, her tongue sliding into my mouth as she slowly massaged my length. "Ask your mother nicely, Alan. And mean it. Really mean it, darling. Think of me as if I really am your mother."

The low groan dribbled from me. It was such an elemental sound, a deep keening of someone on the outer limits of an uncharted land. Behind me was the green and fertile plain of my life so far, safe, well-known, simple, while ahead lay the unknown. If I opened my mouth and said all the things Mrs Lloyd wanted me to say I would be taking the first step into a territory filled with risk. There might be huge rewards just along the road, prohibited pleasures with the gorgeous and corrupt blonde, sinful delights as Sabrina Lloyd and I played that kinky game. But there was also John to consider, and even at that moment, while I wavered on that border undecided I still had enough clarity of thought to wonder about the wisdom of taking that first step.

Then I said it. I took a deep breath and, after glancing down at Sabrina's hand on my cock I looked into her face and mumbled, "Mum, mother ... mummy, I want to fuck you." The wall of inhibition crumbled to dust and the insanity took me. "Please," I whined, "I want to fuck you. I'm your son and I want to put my cock into my beautiful mother's pussy."

Mrs Lloyd stepped back and smiled at me. She tickled me under my chin with a long nail, her voice thick and curdled with her own desire when she said, "Then come upstairs to mummy's bedroom, you naughty boy. Come and see what I've got for you."

I hauled up my jeans and stumbled in my eagerness to follow Sabrina's rolling hips and swaying buttocks as I followed her from the living room. I tripped along behind her, cranking at my cock every couple of steps, my eyes glued to her back and hips and backside and long, long legs.

Sabrina Lloyd led me along the hall to the foot of the stairs. I followed her during the ascent, my eye line level with her heart-shaped arse. At the top of the stairs, on the landing, I lunged at her, grabbing her around the waist so she halted and squirmed and giggled.

Then I was on my knees, my hands on her hips while I peppered the globes of Sabrina's buttocks with kisses.

"Oh, you like my arse, do you, darling?" Mrs Lloyd said, chuckling. She stood with her legs together, locked and bent at the knees, hips thrust back. "There it is, baby. Kiss mummy's arse. That's a good boy. Kiss it and touch me, Alan. From now on, I'm all yours."

I gasped and mewled when Sabrina hooked a thumb into her thong and peeled the cord out of her crease. She pulled the string away from her body and revealed the mollusc of her pussy to my slack-jawed stare.

Mrs Lloyd laughed when she heard me groan. "You like that, don't you, Alan?" She was smirking down at me, holding the cheeks of her arse splayed with her fingers, her eyes glistening with some internal devilment while her labia dangled just in front of me. "I want you to kiss that," Sabrina added. "Lick my pussy like a good son. Make your mother groan."

I was yanking at my cock, tugging myself right there on the landing. If the insanity had descended earlier, by then, when I saw Mrs Lloyds smooth vulva, I was tipped into the abyss of that craziness. I fell headlong, with no safety net to catch me. I was consumed by a need so strong that not even the sight of John standing in the doorway of his mother's bedroom a few minutes later could stop me.

*

LATER, WHEN the shock and general weirdness had faded somewhat, when the three of us sat at the table again, with me three beers into it, they explained what had happened.

John and Sabrina had begun an incestuous affair shortly after her husband had left. Mrs Lloyd had been in a dark place but had found comfort in her own son's arms. There had been love between them, the usual affection and bond for a mother and son who were close, but which had suddenly been transformed into a mutual sexual attraction neither one could fight.

"I've been going mental with it," John told me as we sat at the table. "I wanted to tell you, Alan, but..." John shrugged and looked at me, a hand going through his hair.

I understood his anguish. How could he have told me? What would my reaction have been? She was his mother.

Then, when economic circumstances dictated Mrs Lloyd had to sell the house, it seemed best that she move in with us.

"And you would have been bound to catch us," Sabrina Lloyd said. She gulped white wine, a distant, troubled expression on her face. "Or you would have guessed," she added, shrugging. "So I came up with the idea to seduce you. I've always known you fancied me, Alan."

I flushed at that revelation, which was ridiculous given I'd not long before sprayed semen over her depilated mons. However, at that time I was still recovering from the incredible events of the morning.

"I've always had an eye for you, too," added Sabrina. "But I was a married woman, and you and John are friends..."

She left the rest unsaid, just blinked and stared at me and sipped wine.

"It was a mad crazy plan," John said next. "But it was the best thing we could come up with."

I saw John glance at his mother. He reached out a hand and Sabrina took hold of his fingers. It was the look they exchanged that really clinched it for me. I saw the love between them and it tugged at me on a visceral level. It was an expression of such tenderness that, for a moment, I was jealous of it. There was a brief stab beneath my ribs, a prick of resentment that made me wish Sabrina really was my mother and that it was me who was involved with her on an incestuous level.

Then I blinked and focussed, my mind returning to the present. "What do you think, Alan?" John was saying.

"About what?" I asked with my head full of the look that had passed between mother and son.

"You and me and my mother," he replied, eyes on the table before he looked me directly in the face. "Living together in the flat."

"Sleeping together," Mrs Lloyd interjected. "You two could share me. I could love you both."

*

ON THE landing upstairs I had let go of my erection and simply stared at Mrs Lloyd's plump pussy for a few seconds. It felt as though I was about to come from just looking at her. My cock pulsed and threatened to spurt of its own accord. I felt the convulsive tic, the muscle at the root of my dick twitching, and I thought for a second that I was about to spray semen all over the carpet.