The Locker Room Pt. 05

tagIncest/TabooThe Locker Room Pt. 05

The Locker Room (Part 5)
Kathryn M. Burke
In March, as spring break approached, the twins decided it was time to introduce their beaux to their parents.
Jim and Natalie Stevens also lived in town, somewhat closer to campus than DeAndre's dad. They were in their mid-forties and seemed to have a healthy marriage, although Camilla's sharp eye sensed some possible elements of disharmony. But Mom and Dad were determined to put on a good front when encountering their daughters' boyfriends for the first time.
Jim already knew of DeAndre, whose triumphs on the gridiron he had watched ardently on television. The football player almost seemed to fill the small living room as the quartet showed up late on Friday afternoon for dinner, and Jim regarded him with a kind of awe as he tentatively approached him with an extended hand. Natalie also gazed up at the young man with the imposing physique. Somewhat clumsily, she first held out her hand, then impulsively threw her arms around DeAndre's shoulders. Even though, at five foot eight, she was several inches taller than her daughters, she still seemed like a dwarf when DeAndre tentatively held her.
Natalie tried to salvage the embarrassing situation by saying, "You know, DeAndre, I'm not made of porcelain. I won't break."
With a smile, he hugged her a bit more tightly—and everyone could see that Natalie was preening like a cat as she refused to let the young man out of her embrace.
Camilla rolled her eyes. "Mom, that's enough, I think."
Natalie at last separated from DeAndre, giving her daughter a quick but unmistakably venomous glance. Then she turned her attention to Matt, whom she also seemed to admire—in the same way a snake admires a tempting mouse it intends to devour. She came up to him, enfolded him in her arms (making sure to press her breasts against his chest—and even, apparently, rubbing her groin against his), then giving him a chaste smack on the cheek before she retreated to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner.
The twins looked at each other as if saying, What the hell was all that about?
Several days later—as Camilla and Naomi stood agape from seeing repeated instances of their mother needlessly touching, caressing, kissing, and making sheep's eyes at the two young men—Jim approached his daughters in their bedroom with some embarrassment.
Camilla inadvertently stumbled upon the issue in question by saying, "Dad, what the hell's gotten into Mom?"
Jim didn't need her to elaborate. "Um, that's what I came to talk to you about."
"You guys doing okay?" she asked sharply.
"Oh, we're fine. But, you know, after being married for twenty-three years things get a little stale."
"I suppose. Can't imagine being married that long."
"Look, it's not as if we're going to split up or anything. It's just that, after all this time, I think your mother is looking for just a bit more—excitement."
"In what way, Dad?" Naomi said hesitantly, although even she seemed to have an inkling of the answer, as Camilla certainly did.
"Well," Jim went on with obvious discomfort, "having these two strapping young men in the house has made her realize that she's always had certain—well, shall we say, desires . . ."
"You mean fantasies," Camilla said bluntly.
Jim blushed. "I guess you could say that."
"And exactly what do these fantasies consist of?"
"I think you know."
"She wants one of our guys?" Camilla said almost accusingly. "Which one?"
"Both of them," Dad whispered.
Camilla reeled almost as if she'd been hit. "You gotta be kidding me! Are you telling me she wants—"
"I believe the correct term," Jim said pedantically, "is double penetration."
"Holy smokes!" Camilla said, while Naomi's jaw dropped. "Has she done that before?"
"Of course not," Jim said. "That's why it's a fantasy."
"But she wants it now."
"I guess she figures there's never been a better opportunity for it."
"She has a point, Camilla," Naomi added softly.
Camilla ignored that. "Dad, I don't think Mom understands what she's getting into—or, I should say, what's getting into her!" she said with a coarse guffaw. "I mean, it takes a bit more effort than she may realize."
Jim's eyes widened. "You mean you—you've done it?"
"Of course," Camilla said blandly.
"With the two boys?"
"Yup." And with others too—but Camilla thought it best not to go into that.
"I have too, Dad!" Naomi said enthusiastically, then immediately turned crimson.
Jim looked at his two daughters as if they were escapees from Sodom and Gomorrah. "I don't believe it."
"Dad," Camilla said, "we're together constantly. What do you think's gonna happen? Anyway, that's not the point. I'm sure our guys will be game, but—"
"How do you know that?" Jim interjected.
Camilla looked at him as if he were some kind of moron. "Dad, they're guys. And Mom's pretty damn good-looking—for an older woman."
"For any woman!" Naomi added out of loyalty.
"Okay, okay, she's a hot little item," Camilla admitted grudgingly. Then, fully descending into vulgarity, she grabbed her own breasts and said, "Not so little, either!" (Natalie's bosom was a bit ampler than even Camilla's, and substantially more so than Naomi's.)
"Camilla, please!" Naomi cried. "How disrespectful! This is your mom you're talking about."
"I'm just teasing. Anyway, the boys will be happy to oblige. But Dad, I have to ask something."
"Yes?" Jim said, as if fearful of what the question would be.
"Has she, um, taken it up the ass?"
Jim turned an even deeper shade of crimson. "Yes."
"She has?" Camilla said, somewhat surprised. "You?"
"Yes, me."
"Good for you!"
"And—and there've been others."
"You mean before you."
"Of course! Your mother's never been unfaithful to me."
"And I hope you haven't strayed either."
"Never!"
"That's good. Well, I think this'll work. How about tonight?"
"That soon?" Jim said, suddenly alarmed.
"Sure, no time like the present. You go talk to her, and I'll talk to the boys." Camilla eyed her dad keenly. "You don't wanna watch, or anything like that?"
"Heavens, no!" Jim cried. Actually he did, but was certain his wife wouldn't let him.
"Okay, fine. Then it's settled."
Jim walked out of his daughters' bedroom like a zombie. He really couldn't believe this utterly immoral act was actually going to happen. Maybe Natalie really wanted it to remain just a fantasy, and didn't envision it actually becoming a reality. He glided over to her, puttering in the kitchen, and raised the subject.
"Natalie, dear," he said, placing an arm gently around her waist as she tidied up some dishes in the sink, "you know that thing you were talking about?"
"What thing was that, dear?" she said with little interest.
"You know—the boys . . . and you."
Natalie stiffened. Gazing straight ahead out a little window above the sink, she said in a shaky voice, "Y-yes?"
"It's on."
She seemed to sway on her feet. "Really? You're not just making fun of me?"
"I'd never do that, dear. This is what you want, isn't it?"
"I—I think so."
"You'd better be sure. There's no going back once it starts."
"I am sure." But it was clear she wasn't.
"It's on for tonight."
"Tonight?" she squealed.
"What's what Camilla says."
Natalie's knees seemed to buckle, and she had to clutch at the sink so that she wouldn't fall down. "Okay," she whispered. "Where'll you be?"
"Oh, I'll just camp out somewhere. You want them all night, don't you?"
"I suppose so."
"Fine. And don't worry: I'm sure those boys will treat you nicely. You are their girlfriends' mother, after all."
And with an affectionate pat on her rump, Jim walked away.
The rest of that day and evening was a kind of blur to Natalie, and everyone was aware of it. She managed to cook a fine dinner on automatic pilot, serving it while doing all she could not to lock eyes with either of the young men she'd be snuggling with that evening. Camilla was immensely amused at her mother's discomfiture, while Naomi's heart was squeezed with pity and sympathy. She wanted to throw her arms around Natalie's neck and say, "It's okay, Mom! These guys will treat you real well!" Jim babbled on about nothing, while Matt and DeAndre gave Natalie warm and genial glances whenever they could.
Around 9 p.m., while everyone was idling in the living room, DeAndre got up, went over to Natalie, and extended a hand to her.
"I think it's time, ma'am," he said in a quiet but authoritative voice.
Natalie, in a dreamlike state, allowed placed her hand in his, rose to her feet, and allowed him to lead her upstairs.
Matt was watching this little scene fixedly, and Camilla almost had to kick him to snap him out of it. She nodded in the direction of the stairs, as if saying, Get going, guy—you're gonna be involved in this too!
Matt hastily got up and followed the pair upstairs. It was evident that the master bedroom—which had a spacious king-size bed and not much else in it—was to be the place where it was all going to happen. The men started casually undressing. Natalie watched them with her mouth slightly open, but otherwise did nothing. After all, she wasn't very well versed in sexual acrobatics! By the time the men had gotten down to their (severely distorted) underwear, a succession of tremors began going through her. And when they peeled off their boxer briefs and revealed themselves in full nudity, she clapped a hand over her mouth.
"Omigod!" she breathed. "You—you're so big!"
In fact, Matt's member was about an inch or so longer than Jim's, while DeAndre's was even longer.
"It's okay, ma'am," DeAndre said, radiating calm. "You'll manage."
He went over to her and gave her a warm hug. The feel of this man's naked body against her fully clothed form was strange but exciting, and she shivered a bit more. Matt, meanwhile, had approached her from behind and was pulling down the long zipper—extending from neck to bottom—of her dress. DeAndre peeled the dress of her shoulders, and it fell softly to the floor.
She was now only in bra and panties. As if on a signal, Matt unclasped Natalie's bra and slipped it off of her, while DeAndre knelt down and pulled her panties down.
Both men gasped in admiration at the form revealed to their gaze.
Natalie Stevens, at forty-five, was a woman in the full flush of womanhood, but somehow retained the appeal of a girl. Her breasts were indeed larger than her daughters', but they seemed somehow virginal—round, high, firm, and with protruding nipples that the men had to work hard to realize had nurtured the young women they themselves cherished. They were so large and so close together that they created a kind of natural cleavage, which the boys found almost hypnotizing. Her flat stomach, surprisingly sparse hair around her delta (not a result of shaving), and gently curving bottom completed a picture of both sensuality and innocence. And her face—with its small, delicate features surrounded by wavy dark hair (enhanced by girlish bangs)—was now registering an apprehension, even a fear, that touched the men's hearts and urged them to be gentle in their initial actions.
But it was Natalie who surprisingly took the lead, falling to her knees as the men now stood in front of her. Their two cocks were understandably rising to the occasion, and she took a delight in taking one in each hand and sucking them in turn. Not at all accustomed to deep throat, she couldn't get very much of them into her mouth, but she was encouraged by the fact that those organs seemed to be getting even more engorged from her attentions.
DeAndre raised Natalie up and then led her to the bed. He signaled to Matt to stand by the bed next to her head, where she immediately resumed sucking and licking his member, while he grabbed her thighs and buried his face in her sex. She let out an inarticulate moan—all she could do with a mouthful of cock—as she sensed DeAndre's lips and tongue teasing her labia and clitoris and causing her juices to flow. It was actually happening—two men "doing" her at the same time! But she knew that this was only the mild beginnings of what promised to be a wild night.
DeAndre had it in mind to bring Natalie to climax before any true penetration began, and that proved surprisingly easy. So keyed up was she with anticipation, and so stimulated by the mere sight of these two gorgeous men servicing her, that she felt an explosive orgasm after only a few minutes of DeAndre's attentions. She still had Matt's cock stuffed in her mouth as she moaned and mewed and writhed with her paroxysm, then lay back on the bed, breathing raggedly and staring at the ceiling.
DeAndre nodded to Matt to hand him the jar of cold cream that was lying on the nightstand next to the bed. (Camilla had told her father that this was their lube of choice.) Matt handed it to him, and DeAndre gently coated Natalie's anus with the stuff. She was again trembling at the prospect of true double penetration, and DeAndre tried to calm her.
"Take it easy, ma'am," he said, massaging her shoulder.
He figured that Matt had better go in back while he entered her from the front. Camilla had told him that her mom had experienced rear entry before, but he knew that double penetration would make the procedure a bit more difficult than usual.
The two men now got into bed, on either side of Natalie as she lay on her side. As she gazed deeply into DeAndre's eyes, he calmly inserted his cock into her vagina while Matt plunged into her bottom. Her face twisted into momentarily into a grimace as the initial probing of these two members caused a bit of discomfort; but pretty soon she seemed to get the hang of it, hanging a leg over DeAndre's hip to allow Matt easier access to her anus.
The men began pounding her lustily, and Natalie lapsed into a kind of dreamy passivity as she fulfilled a lifelong fantasy. DeAndre kissed her all over her face, neck, and shoulders, while Matt reached around to grab a breast and give it a good squeeze. They could each feel the other's cock slithering along with only a thin membrane separating them, and in their own excitement they seemed to forget that their female partner was a novice at this: they pummeled her with gusto, as Natalie draped her hands languidly around DeAndre's neck, making her entire body available for the pleasure of these two incredible men.
And they responded in kind. Both were surprised that their own culminations came as rapidly as they did; and as they almost simultaneously began pouring their seed into Natalie, her high-pitched squeals mingled with their animalistic grunts. As she sensed two thick streams of come flooding her, a second climax surprised her, causing her to shake all over.
When the men finally pulled out of her, Natalie felt that cataclysmic sense of emptiness that every woman feels—but in this case, it was a double emptiness, almost stunning her with a profound sense of regret that it was all over so fast. But she suspected that there was more to come—in every sense of the term.
And it was. Over the next several hours, the men probed her in every possible way, glorying in the intimate acquaintance of the mother of their treasured girlfriends. DeAndre felt at liberty to enter Natalie's bottom as deeply as he could, since she'd now been opened up by Matt; and Matt couldn't resist sending one of his several emissions into her mouth, although his accuracy wasn't so good and he ended up spraying her face with come. She laughed in delight as she felt the hot stuff spattering her.
The most intense encounter of the night was when DeAndre lay on the bed on his back, placed Natalie on top of him (face down), and entered her pussy, while Matt squatted behind and entered her butt. This interlude want on languidly for many minutes, and Natalie achieved that rarest of states for a female—a constant low-grade climax that never seemed to end, and transported her into a mental and emotional realm where the only things that existed in the world were these two men, paying her the reverent attention she deserved as a supremely desirable woman.
*
Meanwhile, a different drama was going on with the other occupants of the house. Jim was preparing to camp out in the second guest bedroom, where Camilla and DeAndre had been sleeping. But Camilla put a kibosh on that idea.
"Oh, Daddy," she said, "the bed in there is pretty uncomfortable. Believe me, I know! Anyway," she added slyly, "you don't want to be all by yourself tonight, do you?"
Jim blushed like a schoolgirl. "Um, what else is even possible, Camilla?"
"What do you think, Daddy?" she said, as if speaking to a blockhead. "You sleep with us!"
"Camilla!" Naomi cried. "He—he's our father."
"I'm well aware of that, O sister of mine," Camilla said sarcastically. "But there's plenty of room in that bed you and Matt have been making good use of all week."
"Camilla, really!" Naomi said, also blushing. (As a matter of fact, she had Matt had enjoyed themselves on several occasions, both at night and at other times of the day when they assumed no one was around to watch or listen.) "It's only a queen-size bed—barely big enough for two."
"Well," Camilla said airily, "I'm sure we can fit three for one night at least."
As she shepherded her father into the room, she started giving orders. "Okay, Daddy, you change into your nightclothes, and Naomi and I will do the same."
Camilla then led Naomi into the bathroom, where they both undressed and put on their nightgowns. Naomi had deliberately chosen a long flannel thing that went down to her ankles: the prospect of revealing any more of herself to her father sent a shudder through her. But, to her appalled dismay, Camilla had chosen a daring baby-doll nightgown that Matt had gotten her when they had been "an item."
"Camilla," she said, "I really don't think you should wear something like that."
"Too bad," Camilla said shortly. "I'm feeling warm. It's either that or wearing nothing."
That idea was so horrifying to Naomi that she clammed up.
When the girls returned to their bedroom, they found Jim still standing in the middle of the room, fully clothed and irresolute.
"What's the matter, Daddy?" Camilla said with a frown as she slid into bed. "Where's your nightwear?"
Jim gave her a plangent look but said nothing.
"Oh, I get it," Camilla said. "You don't use nightwear—you just sleep in your underwear. Is that it?"
He nodded his head miserably.
"Well," Camilla said cheerfully, "that's okay. It's nothing we haven't seen before."
Naomi, who had gotten into bed and was lying down with the blanket pulled all the way up to her chin, said, "Camilla, this is getting—"
But Camilla gave her sister a look that silenced her at once. Then, to her father: "Go on, Daddy, we're waiting."
Looking like a deer in the headlights, the wretched man began stripping. He carefully removed his shirt and socks and put them on an easy chair in the corner of the room. Then, turning his back to his daughters, he unzipped the fly of his pants and let it fall to the ground. The girls got a nice look at his backside; Camilla actually smacked her lips at the sight.
"You lie down between us, Daddy," she said encouragingly.
Jim had no option but to turn around, and the girls caught a very brief sight of distorted underwear as he almost raced to the bed and jumped in, covering himself with the blanket as quickly as possible. Camilla draped herself against his body on the right side, while Naomi, feeling obliged to copy her sister, snuggled up against his left side.
By this time, various sounds had already begun to emerge from the master bedroom. Camilla chuckled, saying, "Those three sure seem to be having a mighty fine time of it!"

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