My little boy loves his dog, his mum, his dad, his best mates, his playstation, and his Manchester United football strip in roughly that order. OK, perhaps mum and dad fall a bit lower on a day-to-day rating. But I know that his hates are simply arranged: big sister, school, baths, dentist.
Talking to other mums, this seems to be the way of an eight-year-olds world, whatever you do. Except that Lindsey told me the way around the bath thing was to have one together, like she did with her two.
I immediately thought 'what a lovely idea'. Already Jack's beginning to get that slight reserve, pulling away from his mum - like refusing a hug when I pick him up from school in case the other boys think he's a sissy. So I have to remember not to fondly run my fingers through his darling short blond hair, let alone, horror, bend down and kiss the top of his head!
It's such a shame they have to grow up. Already his sister Laura, who is fourteen, prefers to call me Emily instead of Mum, and is lost to a world of uncontrolled hormones, sulks, pouts and mood swings that would get a grown-up put straight on to heavy duty medication.
So taking my muddy boy home from footie one chill autumn was ideal: Jack needed cleaning and I needed warming up after standing in the cold for ninty long minutes cheering my little centre-forward on. I ran the bath, dumped some bubble foam in, and popped into the bedroom to slip out of my sweatshirt and jeans and don my bathrobe, and set off the track down my dirty little boy.
He was just in the middle of winning the world championships on his pool table, again, when I swooped down, lifted him bodily and, tossing him over my shoulder, tickled him all the way to the bathroom. He wiggled with laughter and complaints. I soon wouldn't be able to carry him around like this much longer either - without dislocating a shoulder.
Once in the bathroom he acquiesced, holding up his arms with an act of surrender, while I pulled his top off over his cute little sticky out ears (which I love dearly, but hope will fold back as he grows). His little barrel chest and thin arms - blanche white where he wears his tee shirt - I couldn't resist snaking my arms around him and pulling him into a tight chested cuddle.
"Mummmmm" Jack wailed.
"Oooooooooh, my little man" I cooed - but let him go to turn off the bath taps.
With a quick soft tug, I reached down and pulled off his mud smeared little shorts. I love those football shorts. I love to clean and iron them. Sometimes I wrap them into my face when they come out fresh from the airing cupboard. I love to see his cute little bottom running recklessly after the ball in them. (Though I always have my heart in my mouth, thinking he's going to trip and go flying.)
His little pale blue underpants, half slipped down from tugging his shorts off, bulged at the front where his little willy protruded. A swift tug there too (he always liked it when I undressed him), left his semi-erect penis flapping close to my face. Without the slightest bit of self-consciousness, he grabs it, and gives it a firm squeeze ... grinning at me as he does so (he loves to be naughty ... and he has his hands down his pants all the time).
"Leave it alone or it'll drop off" I joked.
"No mummy, it gets BIGGER" he laughed cheekily. The head of his tiny little cock bulged a deep red as blood rushed to stiffen his thin little three-inch cock. I ignored him as best I could (always the best tactic with cheeky boys), but felt excited that my little boy was unselfconsciously playing with himself in front of his mummy. I grabbed him under the arms and lifted him into the frothy bath.
He sat in the hot soapy water as I hung my bathrobe on a hook on the back of the door. When I turned around, he was looking at me; I mean really looking with wide eyes. He'd seen me naked before; we're not a closed door type of family. But I can't remember him ever taking such an interest; it made me breakout in Goosebumps all over.
I'm a thirty-seven year old, with long blonde (natural) hair, small 36-A cup breasts, with quite long nipples, a slim waist and a far too full bottom and thighs, with a tuft of blonde pubic hair (I only trim it for the summer) over quite prominent labia (which used to make me self-conscious as a girl). Five-seven tall, with rather nice legs and feet, and a small face that is quick to smile - or in this case, blush.
A blush that deepened as I raised a long leg to step into the bath behind my son - so that he'd be sitting with his back to me, between my legs. As I raised my foot Jack continued to stare, unblinkingly, right between my legs. He stared right up at my momentarily fully exposed womanhood.
As I squeezed in behind my son, his disconcerting stare made me feel quite giddy - as if he'd looked at me differently for the first time, and he knew I'd seen him do it.
Quickly I got into the mechanics of soaping my little boy's body, including his still present erection. It disturbed me what a secret thrill it was to rub my soapy hands over his small thin hard cock - which he obviously enjoyed. It disturbed me how much I enjoyed how high he jumped, as my soapy finger wiggled firmly against his bum hole. It disturbed me how much I enjoyed scraping my sniff nipples across my son's back. I couldn't resist bending down and planting a firm kiss on the back of his neck. He squirmed and giggled with pleasure. But I quickly suppressed all sensual thoughts and simply took delight in a moment of intimacy: naked mother and son bathing together.
When I saw Lindsey at the school gate, waiting for our boys, I mentioned how easy and how lovely the bath idea had been. She turned to face me and looked at me very carefully through her little round glasses.
Shorter than me, about five foot two, with short black straight hair, cut in a bob, with beautiful large 34D breasts that dominate the whole front of her small body. She has, like me, a relaxed nature, with an easy smile, and a girlie delight in the naughty, the wicked, and the vulgar. We'd often stand amongst the prim suburban mothers, telling each other dirty-jokes and sexy tittle-tattle from our lovers and husbands.
We'd met through my brother-in-law and found we had a lot in common. So we'd become quite close of the past four years, especially seeing each other most school days to collect our little monsters. So, when see looked at me I knew she wanted to ask me something. Something close and personal.
"Did you like it" she asked, a little coyly.
"Yeah, it was great" I burbled happily, "really fun".
"You didn't mind being ... " she hesitated at the word 'naked'.
"Ohh no" I plunged in to the slightly embarrassed pause, "I'm always very frank about that sort of thing in our house."
"It's just that sometimes my boys look at me, when I'm undressed, like..."
"Like from you're from a different planet" I butted in again, glad to be able to talk about it.
"Exactly!"
And, with a sly tone in her voice she asked, "does your boy..." and she raised her little finger in the international girlie sign of penis getting a hard-on.
My face must have said it all, for we both burst out laughing and collapsed into a hug. "You should try having two little ones pointing at you" she giggled.
"Ohh, that would be fun! Or three would be better still!!!"
Then, realising we were making too much noise for the drone mummies around us, we got all whispery. Lindsey told me how elder boy, Dylan (nine, a year older than my Jack) was becoming quite the young man and if he kept on growing at this rate he'd soon be bigger than his father.
I said that it wouldn't be too hard of Jack to do that, as his dad has only a fat five incher. To which Lindsey grinned from ear-to-ear. Patrick, her husband, was Nigerian, with the most perfect jet-black skin. I know it's racist to imagine that every black man comes equipped with a hot throbbing nine or ten inch cock. But in a white woman's hand, they just stand out so proud.
All the racy talk of little boys and big boys cocks got us both quite excited. An excitement that was heightened by the arrival of our little men (we both hugged them in public, despite their attempts to escape).
We'd already decided to go round to Lindsey's for tea. Our boys played football out the back while we lazily dialled for pizza and carried on our saucy chat about the men we know, how well we thought they are equipped, and how generally shaggable they are. It was a surprising long list.
The boys came in filthy. Jack looked like he was wearing a mudpack, with two bright blue eyes peeking out. Finbar (Finny), Lindsey's younger son (she's of Irish decent) wasn't much better. The volume of noise three small boys can generate when they burst into a room is huge, completely evaporating the conspiratorial mood of our smutty chat. And Lindsey and I turned to each other and as one said, "Bath!"
Lindsey has a large opulent oyster shell bath with gold swan taps and whirlpool feature (not her choice, it came with the house). It was surprisingly simple to get all three lads stripped off. I instantly saw what Lindsey meant about Dylan being a big boy.
All three boys were excited about being together in the bath, and having two mummies fuss over them, and their willies were all plump. Lindsey plonked all three into the hot water, and then began to strip herself.
I was a bit taken aback. And when she'd pulled her tee-shirt over her head, leaving her top covered only by her massive bra, she halted for a moment to look at me, silently questioning whether to continue. I was a bit nonplussed, but didn't object. So Lindsey rolled down her bright patterned leggings, taking her panties with her, and stepped gracefully out of them to reveal surprisingly nice legs for someone who isn't very tall, and a pussy fanned by a neat light spread of perfectly straight black pubic hair - she had no need to trim her bush. Then struggling momentarily with her bra hooks, never an elegant process, she popped off her bra and, heavy tits swaying, stepped nimbly into the bath, sinking down up to her large dark nipples surrounded by three beautiful young boys, and wearing nothing but a devilish grin.
Clearly being overdressed, I stripped off too, a little self-consciously, with four pairs of eyes watching. So I camped it up a little bit, and started to do a little striptease dance, flinging my discarded garments around the bathroom.
The boys laughed at a mummy being silly, and Lindsey giggled and clapped wildly, humming along the classic stripper tune: de-de de deee, da-da da daaa. On cue, by the time Lindsey got to the boom-boom bit, I was naked, rubbing my panties up and down between my crotch and the crack of bottom before throwing them off and stepping into the bath like a movie star.
Lindsey and her boys thought it was great performance and cheered, but Jack was silent, his eyes as big as plates, his mouth wide open, as if saying, "was that my mummy?" I fluffed a hand through his short spiky blond hair to reassure him. He seemed a little overwhelmed. Unlike Lindsey's two.
"You've got much smaller boobies than my mummy" piped up Finny, in childish innocence, stating a matter of fact, rather than making a critique of my womanliness. "May I wash them, please?"
His question was so polite, for a moment he reminded me of Oliver Twist taking his bowl up in the poor house and asking for more. I felt like booming "WASH THEM!" in parody, but it would have gone way over his head. So slipping Lindsey a glance, who'd said nothing, but grinned, I rather politely said, "yes of course".
The little boy's hand touched my bosom with the detachment of an experimental physicist, his face quizzical in examining - but oh so tender. My nipple pinged to full erection under this dispassionate probing. "ohhh, that's nice" I found myself saying without meaning to.
"My mummy lets me feed from her boobies. May I feed from yours?"
Blushing, I stuttered, "I don't think that that would..." But Lindsey cut me short.
"I'd like to see that." She said quietly, with an edge that silently said, "go on". We exchanged a long glance, a glance that sealed a pact between us. I looked at Finbar, smiled and nodded. Finny craned his head forward, and placed his small thin lips around my nipple, and started to softly suckle.
It was such a beautiful moment: at once both strongly arousing and deeply emotional. I looked at Lindsey, my eyes moist with happiness. She beamed back as I cradled Finny into my chest, and offered Dylan, gesturing with my eyes and a nod, the opportunity to explore my other breast.
Lindsey took my dazed Jack in hand. "Jack" she asked softly, "would you like to touch my boobies"? Jack was dumbstruck at the offer, so Lindsey gently took his hand and placed it under the bottom of her right breast. "Feel how heavy my boobie is, sweetie".
Jack did as he was bid, and raised his hand slightly, so that the pendulous swelling of Lindsey's chest rested in the palm of his small hand. "Heavy isn't it". Jack nodded enthusiastically. His face was still a fuzzy cloud of confusion, but his dick was a tall thin flagpole of delight. Slowly, with Lindsey's gentle prodding, Jack began to fondle her chest. But I lost track of their doings as Dylan and Finbar together sent shivers of pleasure sliding up and down my body in small packets of tingles.
I stroked Finny's skinny body - so soft and pure, and moved down to hold his botty, which was just a darling, cupping a buttock in the palm of one wet squeezing hand. He responded by trying to encircle my waist with his arms to hug me, without stopping slowly chewing on my nipple. He was enjoying being a baby, nursed by mummy.
Dylan, on the hand, was enjoying being a man. He'd stop sucking on my breast, and sat, legs folded under his thighs, happily jerking himself off. I reached down and took his cock from him, and took over gently rubbing his slightly trembling shaft, up and all the way down, and up, to pull the entire foreskin back over the bulging head, and then all the way down. "Has your mummy" I whispered "shown you how to touch a girl's special places?", nodding towards my pussy in case I was being too oblique for the boy.
"Do you mean mummy's clit or her cunt?" was the nine year old no nonsense reply.
"Her clit" I whispered, faintly embarrassed about using rude words to a small boy, but opening my legs for the boy's hand. He tackled my clit with boyish zest, and I had to stop him - I usually can't bear having my clit directly stimulated, except by a tongue or vibrator. Together we explored the complex topography of my clit and its hood, until he found the little fold that runs up to my clit, and is the place where I can play with myself for hours, keeping myself tittering on the brink of orgasmic death.
Once he'd found his mark, and understood the glacial pace of stimulation I desired, he performed brilliantly, diligently sending up the scales of intense pleasure. I half opened my eyes and through the steamy room, I watched Lindsey watching her boys suck at my titties and play with my pussy. Her legs were parted too, with her pussy obscured by her hand, which slowly ran circles over her own clit. Her other hand slowly, firmly, rubbing up and down my son's hot little cock, as Jack pushed his face into Lindsey's breast ... a breast that was bigger than my little boy's head!
Seeing my little boy with another woman, feeling her two boys play with me, it was all suddenly too much. The rising tide of an orgasm suddenly ambushed me, sweeping up in a huge wave of quivering pleasure. My body twitched in spasm as my pussy burned hot, and small tidal waves washed up and down the bath, till my thighs clamped shut, in an effort to still Dylan's stimulating fingers.
Only when I stopped did I realise how heavy I was breathing, how hard my heart was beating. Lindsey stood, her wet body gleaming, her swaying shiny breasts mesmerising. She stepped out of the bath and reached for some towels. "I think we should go to mummy's bedroom," she was saying, as she took each little boy out of the bath and swaddled him in a large towel. Then she held out a towel for me. I stood and stepped into it. She wrapped me in the towel, pinning my arms, and pressing herself hard against me, reaching up for a kiss that had her tongue in the back of my throat. "I want you so badly" she whispered hoarsely, and led me into the bedroom.
Jack was already flat on his back, his eyes wild with excitement, his legs apart, with Dylan laying between them, head bobbing up and down, my son's stiff cock appearing and disappearing between Dylan's puckered lips.
Watching my son get his first blowjob from Lindsey's eldest son just shocked me to my erotic core. Resisting the temptation to playfully spank Dylan's cheeky little botty, which swayed invitingly as he lay on his tummy, sucking my Jack's cock. I lent down.
"Ohhh mummy, this is so nice" Jack simpered, "I feel on tingly and hot".
I moved my lips over his, silencing him, as I gently slipped by tongue into his small hot mouth. With an intense wave of longing, I kissed my son fully. Yet, he remained curiously passive. I realised, he'd never kissed before, not properly kissed, not deeply kissed, and didn't really know what to do.
The beauty of his innocence nearly choked me to tears. I raised my lips off his and looked for a moment at the stiff-cocked wonderment in his eyes. Then I let the towel Lindsey had wrapped me in fall away, and moved up a little, to dangle my small coned breast over his mouth. He may have been lost kissing with tongues, but he knew exactly what to do with an erect nipple brushing across his thin pink lips.
His mouth engulfed my small A cup tittie and clamped on to my nipple to start suckling from his mother's chest. There was an urgent passion in his mouth and teeth, nibbling firmly at me, a passion whose heat flashed out from my breast across my body, to escape as a loud moan from my lips. Jack in his excitement started to bite me, to eat me. It was painful, but it was beautiful and I didn't care. My son needed his mummy so much and it felt electric.
Suddenly Jack stopped. I looked up. Dylan had stopped — boys get so bored easily — he wanted his turn. His young nine-year-old face was shinny with specs of pre-cum from my son's little hard wet cock.
I moved down and took hold of the back of Dylan's head, and brought his face up to mine, so I could dart my tongue into his pre-cum stained mouth. Dylan did know how to kiss, and danced his slimy tongue around mine.
It felt so alive, so excited, so totally wicked. With the slight taste of my son's cock on my lips, I turned to Lindsey with a big cheesy triumphant grin on my face - only to see she was way out grossing my efforts.
Laying on her back behind me, naked, her large breasts leaning back into her armpits, her face obscured by Finbar's tight little bottom. I could just see her lower jaw move up and down, licking up between her son's arse and the under side of his stiff cock, nibbling on his tiny scrotum. She had one hand above her head, sheaved in a latex glove, an index finger half swallowed by her youngest son's tight pink arsehole. She was wiggling the Vaselined finger up and down, finger arse-fucking her son. Her other hand was round her son's front, just holding his hot little cock steady, as his whole body was thrust forward and back from behind. It was a magical sight, and little Finny beamed at me as he rode his mummy's face powered by a finger up his bum.
It was hard to take it all in. It took a moment to notice the nine-inch black penis standing erect from the leather halter around Lindsey's small hips. A black hard shinny plastic penis, that is. It took a moment to notice, too, that Lindsey's torso was still shimmering wet.
I climbed over her waist (to take advantage of an under-employed cock). I gently wiggled my pussy down the shaft of Lindsey's strap-on (so as not to disturb her pleasure at eating her little boy's private parts off her face, and fingering his tight little arsehole). Finny stared at my pussy with big eyes as the plastic cock slid slowly inch by inch up into my vagina.
"Are you eating that?" he asked so charmingly, with a slight puff of strain in his voice; such a charming little boy. He made me laugh.
"Just giving it a good lick" I replied, and leant back over Lindsey's thighs to show the boy how black shiny wet my pussy was making the dildo, and coincidentally affording the six-year-old a better view.
Looking over to Jack and Dylan, I was a little disappointed that they were taking no notice of my little fuck-fest display. Instead, they had swapped positions, and now my Jack had his face between Dylan's tanned legs, and Dylan was teaching him how to give a blowjob. A task my Jack was taking on very earnestly.
All this was getting me very hot again, and I impaled myself even harder on the unrelenting plastic cock.
Finny stood up above his mother's head, rather unsteadily. Lindsey smiled at me. She'd begun moving her hips against the force of my dildo fucking, as my 120 pounds mashed the base of the dildo against her own cunt. She reached across, dipped her slightly brown latex finger into the pot of Vaseline, and returned it to her son's botty.
Finbar went down on all fours over his mummy's head; his own head resting on her wet tummy, just inches from where my pussy was sliming up down Lindsey's dildo. He grunted with discomfort as Lindsey easily slid a finger back up her son's rectum, and then oohh'ed, as Lindsey's own small rosebud mouth enclosed around her son's dangling genitals. I watched in fascination at how far you could slowly insert a finger into a child's bottom. My jaw dropped a little as Lindsey tried to insert a second finger into Finbar's six-year-old botty.
I leaned forward over Finny, the unyielding dildo creating a rather pleasant movement inside me, so he was a jam in a mummy sandwich, and reached for his rosy little buttocks. Gently I pulled them apart, allowing Lindsey slender middle finger join her index finger up inside her son's arse.
The little boys whimpers of "oof, mummy, ooh, argh" juiced my pussy so wet I virtually lost all traction with the dildo.
I lifted myself up off the gleaming plastic with a sccchloop noise. I reached out for the Vaseline jar and took a glob, which I ran gently around and in and out of my own arsehole. Pushing my hips forward - my wet hairy pussy tickling Finny's forehead - I slowly lowered myself back on to rigid plastic, feeling it sliding up, opening up my own arse.
Finny, his face red with the effort of being finger-buggered by his mummy, watched intently as the dildo disappeared millimetre by millimetre up my bottom.
"Are you ... licking it ... with your bottom?" he asked, between gentle "ooofs", but still with a semi-detached scientific interest.
"Ooooooh yes" I burbled.
"My daddy's ... willy ... is ... black too"
"I know," I said, to the ceiling, as I finally accepted the entire dildo inside me. My mind filled with the possibilities of these three little boys playing with Patrick's hard black cock, as my arse ran roughly up and down the hard black dildo.
"Jack" I husked, "Jack, come here baby".
My son lifted his head from Lindsey's oldest son's loins, a ribbon of spit connecting his mouth to the young boy's erect cock.
"Give mummy a naughty tickle" I simpered, reverting to our private code. My son kneeled beside my dildo pumping body, and reached carefully into my creamy pussy. I slowed for him, but his small fingers struggled to find my clit in my wet rocking cunt ... but his exploring fingers drove me on, wilder, as did the trembling dildo shooting up my arse. Trembling, I dimly realised through the fog of my own lust that beneath me Lindsey had just cum.
I wondered if Finny had dribbled his little boy pre-cum into his mummy's mouth. And that was it. I slapped my son's hand hard against my burning cunt and dug my pussy as hard as I could into his grubbing fingers as I came off in an arse/cunt explosion of pleasure and more pleasure and so much pleasure it burned.
"Phew" said Lindsey, "you make a big noise when you cum".
I blushed. I hadn't been aware of anything. But now I was aware of the very large object intruding into my bottom, and it was with some relief that I lifted myself slowly off it.
Jack always looked a little frightened by the power of his mummy's orgasms, and as I lay down, puffed and a little dizzy, I wrapped him in my arms, and cradled his head into my small chest for a long soft moment.
But Finny, finally disentangled from his mum, came over a push Jack away from his mummy. "I want to feed from Emily's boobie" he announced with a slight air of petulance. I thought they were going to squabble about it for a moment. But Lindsey called my son over, pinching her own breast to pucker an inviting nipple up for him. Jack scooted across the bed, and lay down beside Lindsey, as she feed him the swollen tip of her D cup bosom.
"I like your boobies better" Finbar whispered conspiratorially, "mummy's make me puffed". I wondered what he meant for a moment, and then had this clear image of this six-year-olds tiny face being buried, suffocating in his mummy's big chest. It made me smile, and feeling Finny slightly pinching on my nipple made me go all gooey.
Dreamily, I watch Dylan straddle his mother's waist as I had done earlier, and gingerly, lower himself so he was balancing his own little pink arsehole on the tip of the large black dildo.
"No darling" Lindsey said quietly "it's too much for you, go get the white one from mummy's drawer". Obediently Dylan jumped down, pulled out a draw, and triumphantly held high a thin white tapered dildo. Handing it to his mummy, he scrabbled back and sat on Lindsey's chest, the underside of her tits pressing against his thighs. He started to masturbate over his mummy's tits furiously.
Lindsey, watching her son intently, placed the first couple of inches of white dildo in her mouth, and slowly, seductively, twiddled the toy in her small mouth. Twisting it and pulling it in and out until it was thick with her spit. This got Dylan very excited. "Can I have it now, Mummy, can I have it now?" he begged in his shrill high voice.
"Patience" Lindsey teased, and reaching over my son Jack's slowly nodding head, as he feasted on Lindsey's breast, she held it out for me. Craning my neck, I licked and dribbled on the dildo to add my lubricating spit. Then carefully reaching behind him, Lindsey searched for Dylan's tender young bottom.
There was no doubt when the wet tip of the dildo found the nine-year-olds arsehole. "Ooof ... Mummy" wailed the little boy.
"Is that nice" Lindsey cooed, as if the little man's frantic jerking off wasn't clue enough.
Lindsey's hand twisted and turned and prodded her elder son's backside. Dylan rubbed his cock mercilessly while his mum played with the dildo up his arse.
Suddenly Dylan stopped, his cock too sensitive too carry on, his little button too stiff. Lindsey withdrew the hard toy from her son's bottom.
Lindsey ran her fingers through my sons's hair and then stroked the side of Dylan's face. "Mummy's tired" she said with dazed weariness. "Why don't you boys run along and play nicely".
The three boys leap up and dashed off with more energy than was decent.
For a long moment, Lindsey and I lay on the bed, dreamily gazing at each other, a little shell-shocked. Then I had an idea. "We must find someone with some nice girls for those boys". Lindsey beamed back, a twinkle in her eyes