Sharing the MILF List Ch. 11

"You are such a romantic, Sonny." She said laughing. "Where to?"

"Home." I said.

"Mine? Or yours?"

"Mine." I said softly, confronting for the first time that she might not want to participate in my, er our little diversion. "Drive, I'll explain." She did and I did.

"My sisters are sure something is going on with me and they are badgering Mom about it, insisting that she do something. She does not want them to find out about the MILF list and everything, and, well, they caught Brent doing her the other day. So, well, to cover up the whole sordid . . . "

". . . and fun . . . " Sasha interjected.

" . . . situation, she told them I was in love with an older woman, Brent's mother. She said, that, well, as a, I mean, Brent found out and as a way to keep things balanced so we could be friends, she said she agreed to fuck him. No, that isn't right. She told them I seduced her so I could give her to Brent. She told my blisters that you and I were having an affair and Brent caught us." I was talking in circles but I thought the essence was clear enough. "Supposedly I made a deal with him, mom for mom so he wouldn't kill me and now I have to show that you really do let me fuck you."

"I let you?" She asked looking over me. "More like you let me." She snorted, a real pig sound that was hilarious coming out of her. "Your sisters are young. They do not understand the joy of having prime, young prick because they do not understand prime old prick."

"So I thought I'd see if you were available." I finished lamely.

Natasha nodded. "So you want them to catch us, so they don't inquire further into the MILF list. They don't know about Brent and me?"

I shook my head. I had not thought about that aspect of the deal. "Right, no, nothing."

She drove in silence for a while. "Brent fucked Cici?"

I nodded. I felt the requisite civilized clinch of my sphincters, waiting for her reaction to that idea.

"I wish I could see that. My boy is well proportioned. Seeing him take another woman would be . . . " she laughed. "It would be incredibly exciting. I mean, seeing Cici, your mother, seeing her rammed full of his cock . . . " Her voice tailed off with a panting, heavy sigh.

I breathed a sigh of relief. We lapsed into silence. For the first time that day I felt out of kilter, facing the fact that this was really going to be "theater sex", done for an audience. That did not appeal much to me . . . not the audience part, the sex for some other reason than because my cock was hard. That appealed to me. A lot. Sex because I could, I mean. Having someone watch me enjoy Tasha, that was great for me, I just was not sure it would work too well for her.

I realized I needed to do something to make this exciting for Natasha. That would make it better, particularly if my sisters went off, somehow. I did not just want to do a sex show for an audience, I wanted Natasha to come. Before thinking, I spoke. "Have you ever been tied up?" I was gazing out the side window but I felt the air inside Mrs. Rossini's car change. And the car jerked to the left before coming to a stop. When I looked over at her she was staring at me. The light changed and the dawn came, the realization of what I had just asked and the effect it was likely having on this woman whom I had fucked to failure while she was bound and blindfolded and then insisted it was me to cover the fact she had been roughly handled and loved it. I fumbled for something to say that would take that question back but she swerved from the right lane across three lanes of traffic, bouncing over a curb to make the quick turn into a parking lot.

I looked up and saw there was a hardware store right in front of us.

"Tell me." Natasha said. Her two hands were on the wheel and she twisted to look at me. Her eyes fierce, intense. "Was it you?"

Fuck. I had tipped a hand I did not know I was holding. But she saved me, she closed her eyes and tipped her head back. I could see her swallow, a ripple going down her stretched, sexy, olive neck.

"No." She said. "Don't tell me. I don't want to know. I want him to come back. I want him to take me again, in every way. You cannot imagine. Every time Brent enters me, I close my eyes and imagine him smaller, fitting into me while I yowl with orgasm, quivering at his every touch and longing to have him inside of me. I have thought about it so much, I cannot tell what details are real and what I added." She opened her eyes and looked at me over her arm, still braced against the steering wheel. "Am I crazy, Sonny? What sort of woman wants to be raped?"

For a moment I stared at her. I remember the training I took in counseling in high school. I gave her the party line. "Rape has little to do with sex. True rape is all about power and so the gender is only an indifferent part of it. Women are victimized because they are weaker and cannot fight back. Weak men say nothing because it makes them feel weaker. What you want is to be fucked against your will, so the only responsibility you have is to feel what is being done to you. Nothing wrong with that." I stopped, feeling stupid but using that as a reason to be silent.

Mrs. Rossini stared at me like she was seeing some vision of her inner life before nodding, emphatically, just once. Then she opened her door and got out. We bought a couple coils of soft rope that would not stretch or chafe too badly. She drove to my house.

In my head, I bound her in the living room and fucked her there. My sisters would catch us. Simple enough. Natasha parked and I realized that just tying her up and fucking her was less than perfect. I had to seduce her.

"Have you ever been to our house?" I asked, felt stupid immediately.

But Natasha smiled warmly and nodded. "Of course. Many times."

"Would you like to come in. I don't think anyone is home. If that makes you uncomfortable . . ."

Natasha was a gem. She played right along without prompting. Following the cue perfectly. She reached out a hot hand and lay it on my leg. It burned through my slacks. "No, Sonny, really. I trust you. What could happen?"

I liked the question and the sentiment. She had some risk here, showing herself, legs spread to three young women. What was the likelihood they would talk or put video of her fucking their brother on the internet? The implied trust not only of me but of my sisters, of my family in general warmed me till I realized she knew I was boning my own mother and her confidence just seemed logical and not all that altruistic at all.

We got out of the car and walked to the front door. My nerves jangled and she stood beside me, shifting her weight from foot to foot, making her hips bump back and forth. I about could not find the keyhole, but searching for it can be half the fun, right?

So I got the door open. I gestured and she preceded me inside. She looked around. "Okay, I have seen your house. I'll just be going."

I felt my pulse swell in my forehead, like suddenly both heads were about to explode.

Natasha laughed, touching my forearm with her cool fingers.

What a duffus! "Fine." I said, late on the uptake. "Just leave your panties over there on the couch, would you? For my collection."

Natasha looked over at me and then lifted her dress and pulled her panties down over her sleek thighs. She stilled, bent at the waist, her hands shifting the rolled panties lower on her calves. She froze suddenly and looked up at me and grunted. "You were not being serious, there, were you?"

Her skirt was frilly and light, white linen with patches of crochet that showed her olive flesh. I moved around behind her while she was yet bent. I lifted her skirt and she shuddered. I felt the motion in her body as I ran my hands up her bare thighs to her equally bare hips. She did not move.

"I am going to put my cock into you." I said softly.

"Yes, put your cock into my pussy. I think I am very wet. I think I am ready to be mounted." She giggled. "Mount me like a filly, Sonny. I think I can come when you enter me. I am so hot. Oh god but I want this." She spoke looking over her shoulder at me, watching me from the corner of her big eyes, utterly still, waiting. Silent, she dropped her head and arched her back, bumping her hips higher.

I unzipped my pants, unbuttoned them and freed my cock. I tracked the end down the crack of her plush ass. She swayed but twerked her ass higher, shifting her legs a bit wider. My cockhead touched her pussy and she squawked, a choked sound. Her pussy lips kissed the head of my cock and she rocked back, enveloping me in two inches of smooth, hot wonderfulness. Her velvet flesh pulled me inside of her.

I bunched her skirt in my hands and gripped her hips. I pulled her back as I shuffled forward. Natasha flowered like a thrown tomato. I sank into her, deep into her with unbelievable craving.

"Oh, yes, Sonny. Yes, to whatever you want!" She shivered as I stroked her lightly with my cock, sliding it slowly and gently past her clinging, clasping muscles. She sighed as I bottomed out in her pussy and stirred a time or two before pulling back for another go. I pulled free of her body and let her skirt drop. I glanced at the clock and decided I had time. I lifted the skirt and she sighed, lifting her ass higher again. She had not said anything when I left her but now she shivered as my cock quested around her ass and between her cheeks, searching for an entrance to her body. I thought about pummeling her ass but decided I would rather fill that later if I had the chance. When my cock contacted her pussy again, she grunted and pressed herself unabashedly onto me, impaling herself on my cock. I ran it deep into her boiling body. Tasha sighed and whispered words I could not hear. Her head was down and her long brown hair dangled over her face as I fucked her. I pounded down into her and she shuddered, accepting me into her body with tense pleasure. I pulled back and slammed my cock back deep. I pulled free of her clasping body, regretting the loss of the deep connection. This was what a "deep relationship" must mean, I thought and snickered.

Natasha straightened, leaving her panties bound around her ankles. I gripped her by the shoulders and turned her. She stumbled and fell into me. I shoved her against the wall and with one foot pressed the panties down. She fought a foot loose and her legs parted. She was panting, her chin down so her gaze came at me past her eyebrows, giving her that focused, intense look of a woman about to be entered in concert with her desires. I stepped between her open legs and one of her hands took firm hold of my cock, bending it down to reconnect with her cunt. With her shoulders against the wall of the entrance, she popped her hips at me. My cock sliced deep, opening her. Natasha glanced down and lifted both legs, though I am not sure how. She started to fall but I slammed against her, pinning her to the wall. Her thighs were in my hands and I held her up while she clung to me. We could not stroke but ground against each other while my climax thundered towards us.

I came in moments, jamming my cock into her pussy and stirring the filling bubbling in her. Suddenly, Natasha tensed, every limb becoming tense, her hips jerked just once and her legs released me. We had reprised the night in her house while Annie was downstairs getting fucked. Natasha had watched the Chinese woman take our cocks with her arms tied behind her. She had seen us fuck Annie, watched while Annie was fucked by her own son and the rest of us. Natasha sagged between me and the wall, her arms draped around my neck.

"Oh my yes, Sonny! That was just the thing. Now what?"

I pulled my cock out of her pussy and left her to her own balance. "Now, I go get the rope." I had left it in the back seat of her car. Natasha's eyes snapped to me. She did not blink while I hitched up my pants and went out to the car. When I returned, she was gone. I tossed the rope on the couch and went looking for her. I went upstairs, visions of the woman stretched out nude on my bed . . . or mom's. I looked in my sister's rooms last and found nothing. I went back downstairs and she was standing in the middle of the living room, staring out the sliding doors into the backyard.

She turned to me as I rattled down the stairs.

"Kiss me." She husked, her voice rasping like a smoker.

I did. I touched my lips to her and she ground her crotch against my still erect cock. She pulled back in my arms, clasped about her waist. "Oh, still hard? I like that in a man. How do you want me? I am yours."

I was struck in that moment, the similar sentiment with my mother's, the thrill of being a sexual object with a primary purpose, to be had, to be used for sex. I kissed her again but from the desire to find and touch her tongue with mine. She gulped once and then returned the soul kiss with lips and tongue, equaling my passion. Her hands held me by the shoulders as I bent her backwards a little, tilting us. I untucked her linen shirt, matching the white skirt; a set I guessed. My hand touched her fiery skin and I found her bra and released it. I wanted to see her breasts once more.

When I broke the kiss, Natasha grunted but did not move as I unbuttoned her blouse. The bra was lax inside of it and her breasts sought to push it down but it waffled and stayed in place. I pulled her over to the couch and sat, her breasts now even with my eyes. She bent a little and I found one with my lips.

"Oh god, Sonny. Like this? Right here? Ugghhh!"

I sucked the nipple completely into my mouth, stopping her words and making her hands claws on my back. I switched tits, kissing the other and licking the smooth skin. She tasted tangy and wild. My tongue on her skin seemed to fire in her. She bent further and began to unfasten my pants, working awkwardly around my stiff dick. With my mouth ever on her tits, she managed finally to get them down my legs to my thighs. She stepped around my knees and directed my cock to her pussy, sinking down on me. She descended down my cock sliding completely full of me till she was sitting on my lap. Slowly, she began to rock, her hips grinding her clit against my pubic bone before lifting her body up, sliding her pussy up my shaft till only my cock head was hooked inside her quivering body. Every few strokes she would grind hard and long, sighing into my neck. She lifted her head and sought my lips. We kissed as she fucked me, grinding her hips harder and faster.

I reached between us with both hands, found both her nipples and pinched them, hard, at the same time. She fought free of the kiss and screamed. I kept the pressure on her nipples. Her hips twerked at me faster and faster till she convulsed into a tight, bone-rattling orgasm. She flopped sideways onto the couch.

I wanted to fuck her but sometime in the next twenty minutes my sisters would be home. At least Georgia and Tawny anyway. Talia sometimes stayed late and came home with mom. Natasha lay on her side on the couch, one leg over my legs and the other below it . I pulled the bag with the rope in it out from under her and got one coil loose.

"Hands tied behind you or in front?"

Natasha twisted onto her back and lifted her head, looking at me with bleary eyes. She made herself more comfortable, leaving one leg draped over my lap. "Front. I want to be tied like . . . you did at the Wills." Her face colored. She put hand over her eyes. "I still cannot believed what happened to me that day." She said. "I never felt like that in all my life."

"Want to go again?" I said it but felt immediately I should not have.

She moved her hand and looked at me. "In a New York minute." She said.

I guess I was wrong to worry.

"Just say the word." Mrs. Rossini said, kissing me gently. "I confess I liked telling everyone about coming while being raped. I was raped, Sonny. You may not believe me but he came into my house and raped me, just like I said." She then extended her arms before her and crossed her wrists. She looked at me, a bland look, waiting for me to tie her up.

I wondered if the woman was cock crazy or just fucking with me. Somehow the ambiguity was delicious and I just left it like she designed it, a tantalizing possibility that excited her. My cock wanted more spelunking practice. But I had to stick to the plan, for all the good that did me. Sometimes plans worked out. "Take off the bra, first. Leave the shirt." I chuckled. "Take the gun, leave the cannoli."

Natasha did that whole, 'take off the bra without taking off the blouse'; I thought it was so sexy, seeing her breasts shifting as she moved. She handed me the bra and I tossed it over the couch. She extended her hands and crossed her wrists again, nodding. "I know, the Godfather, right? Part two, I think."

I put her hands side by side and began to wrap them with the rope till she had a single bracelet around them both, nearly to the elbow. I looped it around and tested to see it was snug but not binding, not too tight. I moved her legs and got up, standing over the bound woman. She lifted a leg and hooked a heel over the back of the couch, stretching her bound arms over her head. She offered herself to me.

"Hold that thought!" I hissed. I scampered up the stairs to my mom's room, searching the closet and her drawers for something to put around Natasha's eyes. I was also stripping off my clothes. When I returned to Mrs. Rossini, she was as I left her. I was all cock and eagerness. I got between her legs and entered her, shoving my cock into her, presuming, rightly, that she would be plenty slick. Then, socketed in her wondrous body, I bound the scarf I found around her eyes. Her body tensed as I put it over her eyes. Her pussy clamped down on my cock and I went weak in the knees. The pleasure of her body rippling around my cock was distracting. I tied the scarf with a granny knot.

I struggled to my knees, pulled out of the woman with a groan she echoed. I got her carefully to her feet and then arranged the furniture. I turned on our fireplace, a gas thing with a switch. The fire injected immediate warmth into the chill room She was still wearing skirt and a flapping blouse while I was skin and dick naked. I moved the rocker lounge a little and positioned the padded footrest before it. I lay her down across the footstool so her knees were bent over the end of it. I pulled her arms over her head and tied her in that position, head in the seat of the chair, arms pulled high over her head, the rope over the back. With the other coil of rope, I opened her legs, tying one to a brick leg of the built-in bookshelves beside the fire place. I ran the other rope around the end of the couch and spread her other leg. I got between her legs and ran a finger through the curls at her crotch, down through the pursed lips of her furrow.

"In me." Sasha breathed.

I shoved my finger into her, felt her milky goodness. I stroked her sloshing pussy with two fingers. Her hips pulsed at my hand each time I trust fingers into her.

Suddenly Natasha's head came up. "I hear something."

I stopped what I was doing. She groaned in a gratifying fashion.

"I think that is your phone ringing." She said.

I cocked my head and sure enough I could just barely hear the dinging of my phone. It was till in my pants which were upstairs somewhere. I left her bound in my living room and dashed upstairs, following the sound of my ring tone. I got to it just as it clicked over to voice mail. I let it cycle through, walking to my room to find my ear phones. I had the idea I was going to go downstairs. But when I saw who called, I sat on my bed, nude, with Mrs. Rossini tied up in my living room. Before I dialed Landon back, I reflected on my reality for a moment. A moment of self-aware delight. If life got any better for me, I think I would die of happiness, if such a thing were possible.