Author's Comment: Life can be a time when everything is pretty much
routine, and you've figured out pretty much what you think the world is
like and...what you're like.  And then something comes along to shake that
world view up and everything just goes to hell in a hand basket.  That's
what this story tries to catch the flavor of.

   =========================



   Chapter One

   Claire Richardson was excited as she boarded the school bus.  She didn't
take the time to examine that feeling, even though she was thirty-three
years old and was on her way to a high school football tournament.  She
just enjoyed the thrills that were coursing through her body as she bounced
up the steps and entered a tiny world of controlled chaos.  The noise hit
her like a falling wall as she turned the corner to face fifty-some-odd
students, all of whom seemed to be shouting at the top of their lungs. 
Most of them were boys, a few of whom she knew because her son, Bobby, had
brought them to the house for one meal or another, or because they had
dated her daughter, Lori.

   No one seemed to notice her at first, though, whether they knew her or
not.  The boys were thinking about the upcoming games.  The girls were
clustered in little groups that cheerleaders always seemed to sort
themselves into.  They weren't exactly cliques, because the girls were a
team of sorts too, but they had natural tendencies to hang with the other
girls who were most like them.

   Had Claire stopped to examine the feelings coursing through her body,
she might have recognized them as being remarkably like sexual feelings. 
She might have noticed that her panties were a little damp and that her
nipples had spiked through the cream colored silk blouse she should have
known better than to wear to a sporting event weekend.  But she hadn't had
time to change after work.  She was dressed for business—a charcoal
wool skirt clinging to her hips, making the jut of her breasts seem larger
than they actually were.

   She wasn't ignored for long.

   Had Claire examined the faces of all those teenagers, she might have
noticed that a lot of the boys' eyes lingered on her as she waded slowly
through the crowd, lugging her bag behind her, looking for her own
children. Or she might have noticed the frowns of some of the girls as THEY
noticed who the boys were looking at with that look in their eyes that made
the girls get wary and careful.

   But it had been a long time since Claire had been in an atmosphere
charged so heavily with teen hormones and the spirit of impending "combat,"
and she'd forgotten how it affected a person.  She'd shut away her own
feelings for the last ten years, after her husband had said that two
screaming kids wasn't what he had in mind for his future.

   Back when Claire was in high school, she had fought off all the boys,
looking to her future and wanting to save her virginity for the man she
just knew would sweep her off her feet.  It was made that much more
difficult by the fact that she was a cheerleader.  She resisted men in
college too, until the team won a big game and a frat on campus threw them
a victory party.  She had perhaps one too many wine coolers that night.

   The star of the game was a boy named Denny  who had convinced her
to give him a victory kiss.  Denny's kisses had set her on fire.  Her
resolve to stay a virgin seeped away like the fluid in her wine cooler when
it was knocked over as he pulled her up.  The next thing she knew, she was
lying on a bed with him in a darkened room.

   And it HAD been glorious.  She hadn't had any idea how wonderful a stiff
penis would feel stroking the walls of her vagina and scraping along her
enflamed clit.  Her almost instant addiction to that feeling had led to her
lying naked under him time and again.  He’d knocked her up while they
were both sophomores in college, and she'd agreed to marry him even though
she liked several other boys more.  She'd wanted to believe they were in
love and nothing either of their parents had said against the marriage had
sunk in.

   And, truth be told, things hadn't been so bad at first.  But when he'd
gotten her pregnant again within a year, and the money troubles had
started, and he'd had to take two jobs, and couldn't party with his
buddies, he'd thrown in the towel.  Claire had been left to finish college
and raise Lori and Bobby by herself, with a little help from her parents
now and then.

   So SHE was the one who had to take three jobs and forego dating or any
social relationships outside her jobs.  And her determination had finally
led her to find something she was good at.  She'd taken an entry level job
at a bank and had eventually worked her way up to being the manager of the
loan department.  Her single-minded devotion to her two children had
resulted in success in the business world and a comfortable living for them
all.  But it was at the cost of her social life, as she deflected the well
meaning...and some not-so-well-meaning…advances of the men she ran
into in that business world.

   She knew she was beautiful and desirable.  She cultivated that
appearance, because it had helped her succeed in the banking business.  She
was aware that she was attractive and that people—both men and
women—saw her as a sexual being, but she viewed that side of her as a
tool, used only to seal a deal and not to pursue personal enjoyment.  Her
fingers did for her what she thought her body needed occasionally.  She had
grown so used to the convenience of being able to grab a quick orgasm now
and then that she had unconsciously held herself aloof from any
relationships with a man that might have been vastly more satisfying.

   It was almost an accident that she’d met Coach Bondurant, or
"Chuck" as he demanded she call him.  She knew he was her son's football
coach, because Bobby talked about him like he was a legend.  So, when he
applied for a loan to buy a house in Hillsdale, where she lived, and his
file was brought to her for approval, she’d decided to meet him in
person.

   That he was five years younger than she was something she noticed but
didn't dwell on.  He had a good job and, as far as she could tell, was good
at that job, so she had approved the loan.  Having been turned down by two
other banks, his thanks had been effusive, and her casual, "You coach my
son Bobby," had generated praise for her as a mother.

   That was what made her give him another look.  Being a mother was her
pride and joy.

   And that look had turned into a chat, and that chat had resulted in his
solicitation for her to be a sponsor for the regional championships that
the team was going to attend.  When he explained that the team, along with
their supporting cheerleaders, would be staying in a motel for several
nights, and that adults were needed to chaperone them, and that the
cheerleading coach was eight months pregnant and couldn't go, and that he
was having a hard time getting a female to agree to come along for the
ride, Claire made one of those snap decisions that she had learned to
trust.

   She agreed to do it.

   There had been little time to plan or think about things before it was
time to pack her bag and get in her Lexus to drive to the school.  Bobby
and Lori had already made arrangements and were already gone as she backed
out of the driveway and drove to Hillsdale High School.  She was thinking
about trips SHE had taken as a cheerleader almost twenty years ago.  She
had seen what some of the cheerleaders did with the players when adults
weren't watching and she knew well what football players were like.  "Denny
the Derailer," her former husband, was a linebacker who had battered down
her defenses as effectively as he battered down the defenses around the
quarterbacks he sacked.

   She hadn't thought about Denny for a long time, moving on with her life.
He dropped a card to the kids once in a while, but neither of them had ever
seen him once they got old enough to remember him.  They knew who he was,
but had no real feeling for him.  The three of them—Claire and her
two children—had poured all of their affection into their little
family.

   Maybe it was the memory of that wild night when she lost her
virginity...and got pregnant with Bobby…that re-awoke the emotions
coursing through her as she boarded the bus that day.  If so, she wasn't
aware that she was excited in the same way she'd been excited that fateful
night so long ago.  All she knew was that she was excited and she was
having fun BEING excited.  There hadn't been much excitement in her life
for a long time.

   At any rate, as she bumped and jostled her way down the aisle of the
bus, pushing past students, looking for her children, she looked like she
felt.  She was a woman who made the boys turn their heads toward her,
admiring the thrust of her breasts through the silk blouse, including the
prominent nipples that pushed through her thin Victoria's Secret bra.

   She saw Bobby and Lori sitting together in a seat toward the back of the
bus and an even warmer feeling raced through her.  They were talking to
each other animatedly, obviously fond of each other, and that made her feel
good.  So many brothers and sisters fought constantly, but that was
something she didn't have to put up with.

   And there were other students involved with them, leaning over the back
of the seat in front of them or standing beside them.  They were obviously
popular.  It made her feel successful as a parent.

   Lori saw her first and smiled widely as she waved.  She stood up and
called out, "Hi Mom!"

   As Lorie's voice pierced the cacophony of sound, teenagers looked to see
Claire making her way slowly toward them.  She heard one boy say, "That's
your mom?  Wow!"

   That simple comment, made by a boy young enough to be her son, caused
Claire to blush.  The compliment that from an older man would have been
shrugged off as normal jarred her into thinking about her attractiveness in
a different way than she usually did.  There was a strange mix of emotions
that flooded through her as she thought briefly about the irony of the fact
that a mere boy's positive appraisal of her appearance meant something to
her, while the same thing from a man would have been deflected like a
poorly thrown pass.

   "Mom!"

   Claire's eyes darted to her daughter's face, which was showing a mix of
surprise and embarrassment.  Lori was looking at her mother's breasts. 
Claire looked down and saw immediately what Lori was embarrassed about. 
Claire had very prominent nipples most of the time, and they were
advertising their presence plainly.

   The woman in her was proud of them.  The mother in her immediately
recognized that her daughter would think she was improperly dressed.

   Never mind the fact that Lori had inherited her mother's nipples and
that she often showed hers off too.  What Lori thought was fine for herself
did not apply to her mother.

   "Sorry," said Claire to her daughter.  She looked at Bobby who was also
staring at her chest interestedly.  There wasn't anything she could do
about it now.  If she covered the tips of her breasts it would only draw
more attention to them and she was used to men staring, so she decided to
tough it out.  "I'll change when we get there," she said.

   "I would hope so," said Lori, looking around.  She counted at least five
boys who were staring at her mother.  The look on their faces was just like
when they stared at her or one of the other girls.  She was aware on a
cerebral level that an "older woman" could be a turn on for a younger man,
and she knew her mother was beautiful, but the emotions she felt at that
moment were distinctly uncomfortable.  It was odd to think of her
mother as potential competition.  At the same time, with the certainty of
all young women, Lori was sure that she was more desirable than any older
woman could be.  "Never mind.  I'm being silly.  You want to sit with
us?"

   That sent another shot of warmth through Claire as her children, rather
than being standoffish that their mother was there, welcomed her.  There
wasn't any place nearby to put her bag, but a boy offered to put it in the
back with the other luggage, which was piled high on the last two rows of
seats.

   By the time she sat down, Claire Richardson was an overflowing jumble of
emotions, almost all of them pleasurable.  She was immediately surrounded
by boys who, for some reason, wanted to talk to her children.  It made her
feel young again.

   At least until all the kids started calling her "Mrs.  Richardson." That
brought her back to earth pretty quickly.  But even then it was obvious she
was being accepted by the kids, and that made her feel almost as good.

   She had barely settled in, squeezing Bobby and Lori up against the
window of the bus, when Coach Bondurant got on the bus.  He called the roll
and, when he had decided everyone who was supposed to be there was, he
introduced her.

   "Mrs.  Richardson has kindly agreed to chaperone this trip," he
announced.  "I know you won't give her any hassles ...  RIGHT?!" A chorus
of “RIGHT” was yelled out in that tone of voice that kids all
use to let adults know they've said something stupid, even though they are
expected to agree with it.  Coach Bondurant went on.  "AND, just so we all
understand each other, Mrs.  Richardson was a cheerleader when she was in
high school, so she knows all the tricks.  Don't think you're going to be
able to game her, because you aren't."

   Claire wanted to giggle when there was a softer chorus of sighs that
clearly indicated some hopes had been dashed, both male and female.  The
coach waved her forward and, as she left, she heard a boy whisper behind
her.  "Man Bobby, your mother is HOT!"

   There was a smack, as of a hand on an arm perhaps, and Lori yipped,
"Shut UP Thomas!"

   Claire just grinned and went up to talk with the Coach.  He had saved a
seat for them, it turned out, because he’d assumed she'd want to sit
with him rather than the students.  As she sat down she saw that his eyes
were fastened firmly where every other male's eyes had been.  He looked up
and caught her...catching him.

   He blushed.  "Sorry," he said.  Then he smiled.  "But I'm normal I
guess. I hope you won't hold it against me."

   He sounded so sincere that she decided not to react as she normally
would have reacted.  "I suppose I could give you another chance," she said.
"I didn't have time to change into something more appropriate."

   "Thank you," he said and, to her surprise, he sounded like he meant it.
"Sit down and I'll show you the schedule and go over the expectations of
the school board.”

   It never occurred to Claire that his thanks might be for more than just
...  another chance.

   He hauled out a thick three ring binder and flipped it open to a list of
rules and policies that the board expected the team to follow on trips like
this one.  He was all business now.

   "You can read over these in the room tonight, or as we drive if you
want," he said.

   Then he launched into explaining a matrix of lines with names beside
them of all the schools that would be playing at the tournament, explaining
how losses and wins affected lines that didn't have anything beside them.
Claire began to remember how things worked and soon they were chatting
about their chances of advancing and his tactical plans.  Claire loved
football.  It was one of the few sporting events she followed and watched
on TV.  That her children were like-minded made their weekends full of
sports, both inside and out of the house.  The bus started off and the
noise level abated somewhat as kids began to cluster into smaller groups
and have their own discussions.

   "So, other than enforcing the rules, what am I supposed to do?" asked
Claire.

   The bus was bounding along on an uneven road now and she saw Chuck's
eyes drawn again and again to what she felt bouncing up and down on her
chest.  To his credit he tore his eyes away from her breasts again and
again, looking at the book or at her face.  She thought his attempts to
make good his "second chance" were cute.  He appeared to be trying to be a
gentleman, at least.

   "Well, really, it mostly amounts to making sure the kids don't let their
emotions get away from them...off the field," he said.  "I mean they're
kids and they do what kids have always done if they get the chance." His
eyes strayed to her bouncing breasts once again.

   Claire laughed.  "Well, if they're in separate rooms that shouldn't be
so hard.”

   Chuck didn't smile.  "The boys know that breaking curfew will get them
benched, but the girls sometimes don't care about that and try to sneak
into the boys' rooms.  And, of course, the boys who AREN'T involved won't
rat them out to the coach, so we have to keep our eyes peeled."

   "Are there really that many problems?" asked Claire.

   "You were a cheerleader.  Were there problems back then?" asked Chuck,
not knowing her history, but assuming that such a beautiful and successful
woman would not have any skeletons in the closet.

   Her response was confusing to him.  First she took in a breath and
didn't breathe it back out.  Then she blushed.  Then her mouth opened and
closed several times.  Finally she stammered, "I see what you mean." It
left him wondering about her past, but he didn't ask any questions.

   "We'll try to put their rooms as far from each other as we can," he
said. “Sometimes we don't have much choice in the matter."

   The rest of the trip—several hours—was spent in light
conversation, during which both adults developed a respect for each other
that didn't surprise them...and an attraction that did.

   The coach's words were prophetic, in ways he couldn't have dreamed.  It
turned out that all the other schools had arrived already.  Several had
taken more rooms than they had originally booked and, based on Chuck's
preliminary room diagram, they were two rooms short at check-in.  The motel
manager was apologetic, blaming his staff for overbooking the motel.  He
called three other places in town, but if they went that route the team
would be scattered all over the place.  Fire codes prohibited more than a
set number of people being lodged in a room and, as they pored over the
paper map the manager produced, it became clear that there would be one
female and one male student left over after all the rooms were assigned. 
And that didn't take into account either Chuck or Claire.

   Oddly, the solution was offered by Lori, who came to the desk after
being chosen by the team to find out why they were all standing around. 
When she found out the problem she said simply, "Why don't we put Bobby and
me and you and Coach in one room?"

   Chuck looked at Claire and she stared back.  It wasn't perfect, but it
was a lot better than either of them had come up with.  It was agreed that
it was the best fix to the problem.

   The manager was all smiles then, until it was determined that, in one of
the rooms, there was a bed missing.  Investigation revealed that one bed
had been broken the night before, so badly that it couldn't be used any
longer, and the maintenance staff had removed it.  The remaining bed was a
queen sized bed, but it wouldn't sleep four.

   Everybody else was assigned a room and told to return to the bus at a
time specified for supper.  In the meantime the manager scurried around,
looking for another bed.  He came back looking unsure of how his news would
be received.

   "The best I can do is provide a mattress and linens" said the harried
innkeeper.  "I realize it would amount to little more than a pallet on the
floor.  I'm sorry, but there's nothing else I can do."

   "Don't you have a roll-away or something?" asked Claire.

   "I'm really sorry, but they're all taken," said the man.  It became
obvious that he had put more people in some rooms than the fire code
allowed, but wasn't willing to admit it.

   Claire looked at her children and Coach Bondurant.  "What do you think?"
she asked helplessly.

   Chuck said, "I'll sleep on the floor.  It's no big deal."

   The manager fidgeted.  He made it obvious he had other things to do.

   Claire, used to being in charge of things, said, "OK, we'll work it out
somehow.  Let's just get in the room before somebody else comes along and
takes it." She gave a dark look at the manager, who just shrugged his
shoulders.

   "Of course we'll give you a discount," said the manager.

   "I would hope so!" barked Claire.

   When they got to the room a motel worker was already dragging in the
mattress that would go on the floor.  It was only a double.

   "We can't fit two people on that!" complained Claire.  She remembered
what it had been like in college, when she and Denny had shared such a bed.
Back then it had been romantic, but this was a different situation.

   Once again it was Lori who suggested a solution.

   "Look, Bobby and I could fit on that.  His stinky feet will hang over
probably, but then they won't be under the covers where their smell will
keep me awake." She grinned as her brother gave her a gentle shove. 
"There's plenty of room in the big one for two people to sleep and not run
into each other."

   Claire wasn't overjoyed about this fix.  "Couldn't Bobby and the coach
sleep in the big bed?" she asked.

   "Mom," said Lori with exaggerated patience.  "You wouldn't be
comfortable sleeping on the floor and you know it.  Bobby and I can share
the little bed.  Like coach said, it's no big deal."

   "But still, you two would have to be right next to each other," said
their mother.

   "That's OK," said Lori.  "He's not so bad."

   Chuck spoke up.  "How about if Bobby, and your mother and I slept in the
queen?  That would leave the smaller bed for Lori.  Bobby could sleep in
the middle."

   Bobby laughed.  "I like you coach, but not that much.  I don't think I
could sleep rubbing up against a man.  I mean Lori's my sister, but I'd
rather bump into her than a man."

   And so it was decided.  There would be a male and female in each bed. 
By then it was time for supper and they didn't have time to argue about it
anymore.  Claire couldn't even think about it as she tried to get through
the pandemonium of feeding in excess of fifty kids, while busloads of kids
from other schools competed for available seats and food.

   By the time the screaming kids piled out in the motel parking lot and
began to straggle toward their rooms, Claire was so tired she didn't care
who she slept with.  She and Lori claimed the bathroom first.  Claire sat
on the commode while Lori showered and they talked about things in general.
Then Lori dried her hair while Claire stood under the warm water.  That
water suddenly started going cold and she had to shut it off as she got
goose bumps all over her body.  She got out of the shower and dried off
hastily, putting on the silk pajamas she'd brought to sleep in, not
dreaming she'd have to sleep with anyone.

   She looked up to find Lori staring at her.  "Aren't you going to wear a
bra to bed?" asked her daughter.  Claire looked in the mirror and saw that
she hadn't dried her body all that well and the cold had spiked her nipples
again.  They were making two damp points in the thin silk of her pajamas.

   "I hate to wear bras to bed," she complained.

   "Well Coach will love you in that outfit," said Lori.

   "Coach will be gentleman enough to ignore me," said Claire.

   "I wouldn't bet on that if I were you," said Lori.  "I can't believe my
own mother looks sexy in pajamas!"

   Claire looked at Lori, who was wearing a white T shirt and panties. 
Claire could see her daughter's dark nipples through the shirt.

   "You don't have much room to talk," she said.  "You aren't wearing a bra
either, and you don't look so shabby yourself in that.  Surely you aren't
going to let coach Bondurant see you in just panties."

   "I thought I'd be staying in a room with girls, Mom.  I didn't bring
things to wear for bed around men!"

   "Well you can't just show a strange man your panties," said the mother
in Claire.  "Wait here."

   Claire went into the room and asked the two men if either of them had an
extra pair of boxer shorts or gym shorts that Lori could wear.  Bobby dug
through his suitcase and pulled out a pair which he threw to his mother.

   As far as Claire was concerned, the shorts didn’t help all that
much.  Her daughter was growing up and was beautiful.

   "You're still going to make their eyes bug out in that outfit," she
said.

   Lori laughed.  "This old thing?" She giggled some more.  "Coach will be
so busy looking at you he won't even notice I'm there."

   By the time Lori had helped her dry her hair and pull it back into a
pony tail, Claire's nipples had softened and weren't so pronounced.  She
felt much better about going out into the room, where she planned on
getting under the covers as quickly as possible.

   She wasn't prepared for the change in temperature between the bathroom,
with its fogged mirror, and the cool of the main room.  By the time she'd
taken five steps into the room her nipples were again proudly poking out.

   Lori was almost correct.  When the two women walked into the room, both
men looked at them.  Chuck's eyes were, in fact, riveted on Claire, though
he glanced at Lori, too, several times, his eyes looking like he was at a
tennis match.  He settled for looking at the ceiling.  He and Bobby had
been watching TV.  He stayed in his chair and told Bobby to go on and take
his shower.

   "There's no hot water left," warned Claire.  "It ran out in the middle
of my shower."

   The men took it like men and dashed in and then out of the shower
quickly.  Both wore gym shorts and T shirts to bed.

   It was odd being in bed with another person at all, much less a strange
man.  Claire's emotions, which had already been on high alert, built even
more.  She couldn't sleep.  As she lay there trying not to make any noise
in the semi-dark, her eyes adjusted to the light from the parking lot
coming in through the thin drapes over the motel windows.  Her mind flitted
here and there, remembering things.  She could feel heat emanating from
Chuck, even though there was a chaste fold of blanket gathered between
them. It took her ten minutes to realize she was...horny.

   It took her ten more minutes to realize she wasn't going to get to sleep
unless she did something about it.

   Ever so slowly, she slipped her right hand down her stomach and under
the waistband of her silk pajama bottoms.  Her senses were heightened and
anticipation made her tense as she felt the first strands of her pubes on
her fingertips.  She almost couldn't suppress a sigh as her finger split
her labia, which were stuck together with the proof of her excitement, and
her fingertip slid onto her engorged clit.  She spread her legs
automatically and her right leg bumped Chuck.

   She froze.

   Listening, she realized she could hear the smallest
sounds—Chuck’s slow breathing, the rustle of bed clothes from
the makeshift bed her children were in, as they moved in their sleep,
voices from outside somewhere, and the sighing of air as the wall unit
under the window tried to pump warm air into the room.

   Hearing nothing that caused her to believe she'd be discovered, Claire
pressed with her index finger on the little bump that was her ticket to
sleep.  She rolled her fingertip in a circle, playing with the protrusion,
and felt the thrills shoot through her that always came when she mauled the
little lump of flesh.  She went slowly, enjoying the way her passion built
as she played with herself.

   She was perhaps halfway to her orgasm when she heard Lori's almost
silent whisper.

   "Bobby!  Not now!  Mom's right there!"

   Claire froze again.  Very slowly she turned her head.  Her hair was in
her face and she was afraid to lift her hand from under the covers to
remove it.  She could see through one eye the heap of covers that were her
children.  It was moving.  There was a little sighing moan that was in a
voice too deep to be her daughter's.

   "Please?" came Bobby's voice in a whisper.

   "You'll wake up Mom," came the whisper of her daughter.  "You want her
to know what we do?"

   "Nooo," moaned Bobby.  "We won't wake her up if we're careful.  You know
how hard she sleeps.  Pleeease?  I'm sooo horny."

   What Bobby was referring to was the fact that, most nights, Claire took
a sleeping pill.  Her work was demanding on an emotional level, and the
pill ensured that she'd get a good night's sleep to face the next day.

   But this night she hadn't taken the pill.  She hadn't thought it would
be necessary.

   There was silence, broken by the sound of what was most likely a kiss.
It sounded like a long, wet kiss.  Claire couldn't believe what she was
hearing.  Her own children?  Kissing?  And quite likely more than that?!

   Lori's voice still came in a whisper, but it was a breathy one, as if
she were breathing hard.  "Do you have a rubber?"

   "In my suitcase," was Bobby's equally breathy reply.  "But I can't get
up and get it.  It would wake her up for sure," he moaned.

   "Mmmmm that feels good," sighed Lori.  "But you know we shouldn't do it
without a condom."

   "Wouldn't you like something more than just my finger?" he whispered.

   "We shouldn't do it without a condom," repeated Lori.  Now it was
obvious that she was breathing hard.  Claire could hear her deep rapid
breaths in the quiet of the room.

   "Just this once?" pleaded Bobby.

   "You always say just this once," said Lori.

   But Claire could hear in her voice that Lori was going to let her
brother do it.  She was going to let her brother slide his stiff young
prick into her teenaged pussy, where it would spurt long sticky ropes of
his potent teenaged sperm into her womb.

   Chapter Two

   Claire tensed the muscles in her abdomen and took a breath, preparing to
sit up and stop them.  But she froze when her hand got caught in her pajama
bottoms.  She was astonished to find that she had continued to rub her clit
as the scene unfolded beside her.

   Then she thought about the uproar that would result if she yelled. 
Chuck would surely wake up, and then she'd have to explain to him what was
going on.  She relaxed and pulled her hand out of her pajamas, her mind
racing.  What should she do?  Her head turned and she felt light headed as
she saw the lump that was the covers under which her children were supposed
to be sleeping move.  It humped up as Bobby obviously climbed on top of his
sister.

   Again she took a breath to yell ...  scream ...  do SOMETHING.  But she
couldn't embarrass the children in front of the coach, not to speak of the
embarrassment SHE would feel, too.  She realized she was still holding her
breath and let it out in a whoosh.

   "What was that?" whispered Lori's voice.

   Claire had a flash of inspiration.  If she got up and went to the
bathroom, they'd stop.  Then she could make noise...toss and turn...like
she was having a hard time getting back to sleep.  If she did it long
enough, they'd surely give up this crazy idea.

   Lori's voice came again.  It was a drawn out "mmmmmm" sound that Claire
recognized as having made herself, on numerous occasions when Denny's cock
had slid into her pussy.  Bobby groaned softly too.  He had obviously just
pushed his hard adolescent penis into his sister's pussy.  Claire saw the
covers move as Bobby thrust hard into Lori.

   Claire sat up.  She flung the covers off of her legs and swung her feet
toward the children.  The covers stopped moving and Claire heard both her
children gasp.  Claire stood up and padded around the bed and into the
bathroom.  She stood there in the dark for a minute until she realized they
would expect the door to close and the light to go on.  She closed the
door. They had stopped.  Her plan was working.

   Claire almost didn't remember to flush the toilet.  She stood in the
bathroom, ears straining to hear anything that might come through the door.
It had been useless, though, and, with a start, she realized she didn't
know how long she'd been in there.  She turned off the light and went blind
immediately.  Opening the door, Claire put her hands out and stepped,
groping in front of her, into the room.  She knew roughly where the space
was between the beds.  She had to go around the one she and Chuck were
sharing—he was on the side closest to the bathroom—and she bent
over to feel for the edge of the bed.

   Her hands fluttered along the covers and onto Chuck's feet.  She jerked
them away instantly, then reestablished contact with the bed and worked her
way around it.  Her eyes still hadn't adjusted to the dark, so she couldn't
see the lump that had been her son on top of her daughter.

   She didn't hear anything, though.

   She slipped back into bed, trying to make enough noise to frighten her
children, but not wake up Chuck.

   It almost worked.

   As she settled onto her side, so she could see the children when her
night vision returned, Chuck rolled.  His arm draped across her body and
his hand fell to the bed beside her left breast.  Claire tensed up, getting
ready to rebuff this man's obvious pass at her.

   She felt Chuck's hot breath blow against the back of her neck in a long
drawn out sigh.  He stopped moving.

   Claire realized she was holding her breath again.  She let it out slowly
and tuned her body to feel what Chuck's was doing.  The only real contact
between them was his arm draped across hers.  He was breathing deeply and
slowly.  He must have just turned in his sleep.

   But now Claire had a problem.  If she moved, she'd wake him up for sure.
She was, for all intents and purposes, trapped.

   Slowly, her sight returned to her and she looked at the mattress on the
floor.  They were still now.  Her plan had worked.  Strangely comforted by
Chuck's arm draped over her, she drifted into a troubled sleep.

   Claire's eyes snapped open perhaps an hour later.  There had been a
noise of some sort.  Chuck was fully spooning her now, his breath still
slow and soft in her hair.  There was a female whimper from the pallet next
to the bed.  Claire could see quite well now, from the light coming in
around the drapes that were not completely covering the windows.

   The lump in the covers over her children looked much too tall to have
been made by only one body.  And it was moving.

   They were doing it again!

   Claire lay there helplessly as she heard Bobby assure his sister that
their mother was asleep again, and heard the quiet mewling sounds that
communicated that Lori was having a wonderful time.

   Then, to her dismay, she heard the little grunting sounds from Bobby's
throat that she somehow knew meant his penis was spurting…inside
Lori...without a condom to contain it or protect Lori from pregnancy.

   Claire didn't know what to do.  She was used to making momentous
decisions at work every day, decisions that had the potential for changing
the world.  But in this situation she felt helpless.  She knew she should
have stopped them.  On the other hand it was obvious this wasn't the first
time this had happened.  How long had they been doing this?

   She heard Bobby's whispered "Thank you," and Lori's answering "I love
you." It sounded so heartfelt and real, just like she and Denny had spoken
to each other in moments of intimacy.

   Claire couldn't believe the warm feeling in her own abdomen.  It was
just too strange and bizarre.  She felt a tear in her eye break free and
roll down her cheek.  She couldn't decide if it was because of what her
children had just done...or because of the sudden loss she felt because she
didn't have that kind of intimacy in her life anymore.

   Exhaustion finally claimed its hold on Claire's consciousness and she
fell asleep.

   She woke later, having a dream about a man's hand cupping her breast...a
strong man's hand.  It felt good.  She smiled at her dream and drifted back
to sleep.

   Claire woke to see brighter light coming in around the blinds and drapes
that covered the windows of the room.  The first thing she thought of was
that Chuck's arm was still over her, pinning her to the bed.  Then she felt
his hand—his strong, manly hand—cupping her left breast.  He
was still breathing slowly and deeply, asleep.

   She moved and he snorted, his hand closing tighter on her breast.  Then,
Claire heard his breathing cease, and there were two tentative little
squeezes, as he realized just where his hand was and what it was cupping.

   The hand darted away from her and he lifted his head.

   "I'm so sorry," he whispered.

   Claire had just remembered what she had seen and heard the night
before—her children…making love.

   "It was an accident," she whispered back.  "Don't worry about it."

   Chuck rolled away from her and out of the bed.  As he headed for the
bathroom Claire looked at him.  The front of his shorts was tented outward.
Denny's penis had been like that in the mornings.  He had called it his
"morning wood." Quite often, when he came back from the bathroom on those
mornings, it was still hard.  He loved to fuck in the morning.

   Claire realized her pussy was wet.  Her emotions, which had abated
during sleep, surged again.

   =========================

   It was a rough day for Claire.  She dressed in a khaki blouse and skirt
outfit she thought was cute, and she was right.  All day men stared at her,
whether they were adults or young men her son's age.  The fact that she now
knew her son was sexually active made her look at those young men in a
different light.  Each of them, she realized, had the capacity to climb
between her legs and scratch the itch that she had felt all morning and
couldn't seem to suppress.  At one point she went to the girls' bathroom
and locked herself in a stall, masturbating frantically to ease her desire.


   But all that did was get her hotter.

   She was tense all day.  It didn't help that she was around Chuck most of
the day, helping him with the record keeping and running errands for him.
She caught herself looking at his trim, athletic body.  It was hard and she
just KNEW he'd be good in bed.  She shook her head, trying to shake those
thoughts from her mind.  He was her son's coach!  And, despite there only
being five years between them, she couldn't help but look at him as much
younger than herself.

   "What am I thinking?" she berated herself.

   She tried to keep an eye on her children too.  Every time she saw them
together—which was more often than she would have thought before last
night—they were smiling, happy children, as normal looking as all the
others around them.  They didn't hang on each other, but they didn't avoid
each other either.

   They just looked...normal.

   By contrast, there were other kids who bickered and fought.  In most
cases it seemed like the normal everyday interaction of teenagers who were
in competition with each other.  She noticed one boy—a
redhead—and a girl with long blond hair, who were angry with each
other about something and acidic in their statements to one another.  The
blond, at one point, was hanging on another boy when a brown-haired
cheerleader girl stalked up and pushed the blond away.  The brunette yelled
at the redheaded boy.

   "Tell your slut sister to stay away from my boyfriend!"

   The redhead waved a hand.  "She doesn't listen to me.  What do you
expect from a slut anyway?"

   "Well THAT brother and sister don't cuddle in bed...that's for sure,"
Claire said to herself.  She couldn't help but compare those angry siblings
to her own loving children.

   It bothered her.

   She wanted her children to love each other...but they loved each other
TOO much.

   Didn't they?

   And it didn't appear to hamper their performance either.  Bobby played
well and helped the team win their first game.  Lori was the picture
perfect cheerleader, exhorting the spectators to yell and chant and
celebrate each positive aspect of the game.  She was bright and happy and
full of vim and vigor.

   Claire realized she was slumping as she watched her daughter.  "I might
be full of energy too if I'd gotten my ashes hauled as well as it looked
like YOU did last night," she muttered to the girl who couldn't possibly
hear her.

   "Say what?" asked Chuck, turning to her.

   "Oh!" she blushed.  "Nothing.  I was just talking to myself."

   "Tell yourself hi for me." He grinned.  "And mention to yourself that
you look really nice today."

   He looked back at his team as Claire blushed even more.  She was horny
the rest of the day.

   =========================

   That night after supper, Bobby and Lori wanted to go socialize with
their friends.  Curfew wasn't until nine, so Claire told them to have fun.
When they bounded out of the door she wondered what form that fun might
take.

   "You're really good with your kids," said Chuck, looking up from his
playbook.  "I mean you've raised great kids."

   Pleasure flushed through Claire at the compliment.  It was replaced by
fear that Chuck would somehow find out someday the secret she had
discovered the night before.

   He closed the book and slid it under the mattress.  "We'd better go see
what the kids are doing," he announced.

   Claire jerked, thinking of just her kids...and what they might be doing
somewhere.  Then she realized he wasn't talking about HER kids.

   "Yes," she said.

   They went together, moving along the hallways, stopping at the rooms
listed on Chuck's sheet.  In all cases where the door was closed, only boys
or girls were behind it.  And, in all cases where they found boys and girls
together, the door was open as the rules required.

   They found Bobby in one room, playing Texas Hold Em.  Lori was in
another room where boys and girls were dancing to loud music.

   Claire didn't know whether to be happy or not.  She was beginning to
think she had dreamed the whole incident.  Her children acted so normal she
couldn't accept that there was something wrong with them.

   Claire and Chuck spent an hour chatting with various kids and being
flirted with.  Claire noticed that a lot of the girls got all goo goo-eyed
when the coach talked to them, unconsciously thrusting their breasts out,
or playing with their hair, making little grooming motions.  At the same
time she felt the eyes of the boys on her.  It was an almost palpable,
caressing feeling and it didn't help her horny state.

   By the time they got back to the room Claire felt like she needed to
change her panties.

   Chuck went into the bathroom and got his shower first, since there had
been no hot water the night before.  He came out in his shorts, his shirt
in his hand.  Claire had been lying propped up on the bedspread, reading a
book she'd brought along and she looked up, over her reading glasses.  She
felt a flutter in her pussy.  He was a hunk.  No doubt about it.  His chest
was heavy with muscle and her fingers played with the pages of the book as
if they were stroking those muscles.

   Chuck had been running his hand through his damp hair and saw her
looking at him.  He held the shirt up in front of his naked chest.

   "Sorry," he said.  "I was thinking about the game." He pulled the shirt
over his head as Claire stared at his flat, muscled abdomen.

   Chuck smiled.  "I wanted to thank you again for coming along.  I really
couldn't do this without you."

   What went through Claire's mind was something else he really couldn't do
without her...or at least without a woman.  She felt her face get hot.

   He didn't notice.  "And I wanted to apologize again for what happened
last night.  I really don't make a habit of groping strange women in bed."

   Claire remembered the feel of his hand on her breast.  It had been a
long, long time since she'd felt that.  Her face got hotter.  She tried to
dismiss the feeling.

   "Forget it.  You probably don't make a habit of even SLEEPING with
strange women in your bed." It didn't come out quite like what she'd
thought it would.  Her classification of the bed as "his" made her pussy
flutter again.

   "Well," he said, reaching under the mattress for the play book, "you're
right about that.  I haven't had time to do anything except teach and
coach. I guess I shouldn't be too surprised that when a beautiful woman
shows up next to me in bed that something like that might happen."

   His casual mention of her beauty came off unlike a canned pickup line
and Claire's reaction shocked her.  She felt warmth in her nipples and her
pussy was suddenly wet.

   "Maybe we should assign a couple of the kids to keep an eye on US," she
tried to joke.  "There hasn't been a man in MY bed for over ten years." It
had come out as a joke, but it didn't sound like it to Claire's ears.

   She blushed furiously.  "I'm sorry, Chuck.  I shouldn't have said that,"
she stammered.

   "No problem," he said simply.  "Not that I believe you or anything." He
sat down and opened the book.

   Now what had THAT meant?  wondered Claire.

   The door opened and a cheerful pair of siblings came rushing in,
laughing and talking about their friends.  Claire tried to keep reading,
but her eyes strayed to Bobby as Lori dashed into the bathroom, slamming
the door and crowing that she was going to use all the hot water again.

   Bobby pulled off his shirt and Claire was jolted to realize that her son
was in awfully good shape too.  He wasn't as heavily muscled as Chuck, but
the muscles were all there, in the same places.  Bobby bent over and dug
into his suitcase.  Whatever he found was small, because when his hand came
out it didn't appear to be holding anything, even though it was cupped. 
Bobby shot a look at his mother, whose eyes appeared to be on the words in
the book.  He wandered over to the bed he shared with his sister and sat
down.  Claire saw his hand dart under one of the pillows.  When it came out
it was obviously empty.

   Claire felt her pussy squirt again as she realized what he must have
just hidden.

   When Lori came out of the shower she was dressed as she had been the
night before, in only a T shirt and borrowed boxers.  She skipped across
the room and dove into bed, getting under the covers.  Claire looked up.

   "Are you OK, Mom?" asked Lori.  "You look kind of tired or something."

   "I'm fine," said Claire.  She couldn’t help but imagine what
Lori's face looked like as her brother prodded her with his prick.  She
shook her head.

   "Are you sure?  Are you sleeping OK?  Did you bring your pills?" Lori's
voice held nothing but care and concern.

   "I'm fine, Lori," said Claire somewhat irritably.  "I'm sleeping fine,"
she lied.  It occurred to Claire that maybe she SHOULD take a sleeping
pill. Then, at least, she wouldn't be awake when her children had sex, like
they obviously planned on doing again tonight.  What little SNEAKS they
were!  she thought to herself.  And Lori's obviously false concern about
her mother sleeping well!  Why did her young, beautiful daughter get to
have wild and glorious sex while Claire just had to lie there horny?  It
wasn't fair!

   Bobby came out of the bathroom.  He was dressed exactly like he'd been
dressed the night before.  But this time Claire couldn't help but look at
him differently.  This time she knew he was...sexually active.  Her little
boy was...a man.  At least in that sense.  She looked at him for the first
time, as a man.  His chest was broad, she noticed.  How could she have
missed that before?  And his arms and legs were muscled.  Suddenly, in her
head, she heard again his voice—her little boy's
voice—whispering in the night, "I'm so horny." Her eyes dropped to
the front of his shorts.  She jerked her eyes away instantly, ashamed to be
looking at her son's manhood, but that brief glimpse drew her eyes back
again like a magnet, despite her wish not to look.

   He must be HUGE!  she thought to herself as she stared at the lump under
his skivvies.  It almost looked like he was wearing a cup under them,
except for the obvious contour of a thick penis pressed against a pair of
immense balls.  When had her son developed THAT kind of equipment?

   Again she jerked her eyes away and blushed.  How could she stare at her
own son's penis?  She looked up to see him smile at her—just a son
smiling at his mother.  Why, then, did she feel that emptiness that she'd
felt the night before...that lack of intimacy that she was suddenly
craving?

   Claire felt panic welling up in her as she realized her nipples had
spiked.  She got up and went to the bathroom.  She got in the shower and
turned the water as cold as she could stand it.  It didn't help though. 
She moaned a soft sound of discontent and, to avoid thinking of her son's
bulge, she intentionally thought of Chuck's hand on her breast, his own
penis shoved gently against her buttocks.  She shivered and turned the
water to a warmer setting.  Then, with a gasp of surrender, she shoved
three fingers into her pussy as she jerked and rubbed, trying to have an
orgasm.  She managed to get a little one, but it wasn't really satisfying.
When she came out of the shower and toweled off, she realized she hadn't
brought anything with her to change into.

   She cracked open the door.

   "Lori?" she called.  "I forgot my pajamas.  Would you get them for me,
please?"

   Chuck's voice came softly.  "They're already under the covers.  I'll get
them.  Where are they?"

   "In my suitcase," she said.  As she waited she realized he'd have to
move her scanty feminine panties to get to the pajamas.  She leaned her
head against the door and sighed at how that made her feel.

   A muscled arm came through the door.  Her silk PJ’s were hanging
from the hand at the end of the arm.

   "Here you go," came his deep voice.

   When she came out of the bathroom Claire knew her nipples were still
spiked.  This time it wasn't from the cold.  It was because she needed to
be fucked.  Admitting that to herself didn't do any good.  She wanted to
cover her breasts, but knew that would only make it more obvious.  Chuck
was back in his chair again, the book spread open on his lap.  He looked up
at her and his eyes devoured her figure in the thin pajamas.  She knew that
look and it didn't help her mood.  She was used to dismissing those
looks—ignoring them and acting in a cold and professional manner to
deflect them.  But she couldn't push the feeling away this time.  At least
he didn't say anything.

   Claire was glad he hadn't.  If he'd said anything even remotely
connected to sex she would have flung off her pajamas and demanded he take
her then and there.  And her children would just have to deal with it!  She
fell into bed and buried her face in her pillow.

   It was going to be a long night.

   Oddly, she fell asleep quickly.  But she dreamed.

   She dreamed of her son, who came to her saying he had a "boo boo." He
pulled aside a loincloth he was wearing and his mammoth erection strained
up.  There was a small spot on it where he'd caught the skin in his zipper.


   "It hurts, Mommy," he said.  "Kiss it and make it better."

   In her dream Claire did a lot more than kiss it and make it better.  She
made it go all soft.

   She woke with a start.  She was lying on her side, facing the children
again.  There was movement in the bed across from hers.  Movement and
moaning.

   "Oooo you got the kind with bumps on it," cooed Lori.  "I love that
kind."

   Claire looked to see her son's naked back, the covers down to his waist.
Under him was her daughter's naked chest, her breasts white in the
darkness. Bobby leaned down and suckled at one dark tip on top of a white
mound.  He rocked gently.

   His head raised back up.  "Are you sure she took the pill?" he
whispered.

   "She told me she had them and that she was sleeping fine," came the
answer.

   "Good," he whispered.  "’Cause I'm about to cum, but I need to go
a little faster."

   Lori's hands came under the blanket, where Bobby's ass cheeks were, and
Claire watched as her daughter pulled her son's prick into her.

   Bobby groaned softly and froze on top of his sister.

   Lori's voice came, louder than it should.  "I feel it Bobby...the damn
rubber broke!"

   "I'm sorry," he pleaded, still rocking on top of her...still spurting
her full of creamy white sperm.  "I had to put it on in the dark."

   "We have to stop this," came a hiss from Lori.  "You're gonna knock me
up for sure!"

   "I said I was sorry," he said softly.

   There were small sounds, though, as of little kisses, indicating that
Lori wasn't quite as upset as she sounded.

   Claire felt something akin to pain as she realized she was a lonely
woman.  Broken rubbers were no concern of hers, because she had no man at
all.

   Chapter Three

   Somehow Claire got back to sleep, but again she dreamed.

   This time it was a dream about her daughter, who walked into the
kitchen, her belly enormous, as if it held more than one baby.

   "Morning, Mom," she said brightly.

   In her dream, Claire turned to her daughter and said, "It looks like
there's another one in there this morning."

   "Yeah," sighed Lori.  "Bobby fucked another one in me last night.  I
think that makes four.  I may have to have a  c-section."

   They were interrupted by Bobby, who came strutting into the kitchen
stark naked, his lusty huge erection straining out into the air in front of
him.  It was the size of a fire hydrant and was red and angry looking.

   "Morning, Mother," he said grinning widely.  "Are you ready to make your
morning baby?"

   Claire looked down at her dream belly, which was just as gravid as
Lori's was.  She screamed...

   And jerked awake.  The bed shivered.  Everyone else was still sleeping.
She hadn't screamed out loud.

   What's WRONG with me?  she cried in her mind.  She staggered out of bed
and went to the bathroom.  Closing the door she turned on the light and
leaned on the sink, staring into the mirror.  Her face looked haggard and
drawn.  She splashed some water on her face.  The cool of it felt good.

   She turned to her travel case, which she had put in the bathroom earlier
and opened it.  She got out a sleeping pill and swallowed it.

   Claire didn't dream again that night.  But when she awoke it was to
multiple sensations.  She didn't know why she had awakened just then.  She
was still horny.  And, she was cuddled up to Chuck, her head on his
shoulder, her hair covering her face.  She had twin feelings of her hand,
lying on something soft...cloth...with something firm under it.  As she
thought about where her hand had to be, she realized it was on his morning
erection.  At the same time she felt his fingers on her wrist.  She felt
him lifting her hand...moving it...letting it fall on his flat, hard
stomach.

   She lifted her head.  "I'm so sorry," she half whispered, her eyes
filling with tears.  "I took a pill...I had dreams...I'm so sorry," she
began to sob quietly.

   "Hey," he said into her hair.  "Take it easy.  It's OK.  I just didn't
think you'd want to wake up and find your hand...there." He kissed her
hair. "Don't cry."

   She felt better for knowing that he hadn't removed her hand because he
didn't want it there.  She felt worse because she knew she wasn't going to
be able to control her urges.

   "Thank you," she said.  "But I don't know WHAT I want anymore."

   His fingers went back to her wrist and lifted her hand again.  Amazed,
she felt him return it to the lump of stiffness under his shorts and drape
it over his erection.

   "There," he said.  "All better?"

   Claire felt her fingers curl around the stiff column of flesh before she
could stop them.  She squeezed gently before sliding her hand upward, off
his hard-on.  In the process her hand slid under his shirt, onto his hot
skin.

   "We don't even know each other," she whispered, feeling much better for
having been able to take her hand away from what she wanted to feel.

   "We can get to know each other," he suggested.

   "I'm almost afraid to get to know you," she responded.  "I'm already
about to let you do something I swore I'd never let a man do again."

   "That's a good thing," he whispered back.  "That means you're making
progress...working through your issues."

   She couldn't help but smile and tried to pinch his skin.  It was
surprisingly difficult to get anything between her fingers.  She ended up
tickling him instead.

   Chuck jerked and batted at her hand, clamping his on it and stopping
her. He rolled slightly as he let go and her hand slid to his side.  There
were no love handles there.  The hand he'd used came to her hair and
whisked it away from her face.

   "I'm going to kiss you now, Claire," he whispered.

   "OK," she surrendered.  It was an instant, unthinking surrender that
made her feel better somehow before he even touched her.

   It was a kiss to write home about.  Neither of them cared about the
morning breath, or the teenagers in the bed on the floor next to them. 
They just felt each other through their lips and experienced it.

   Claire reluctantly pulled away from his lips.  "What about your
girlfriend?" she asked.

   "What girlfriend?" he replied.  "I'm too busy with teaching and football
to have a girlfriend."

   He kissed her again and she pressed her body against his, her arms going
around him, pulling him tightly against her.  Despite her raging emotions
her passion surprised and even scared her a little.

   When it was over Claire buried her face in his chest.  "I'm in so much
trouble," she said.  Her hand slid to his buttocks and inside his shorts to
grip a glute.

   "I'm the teacher," he whispered back.  "Why don't you let me decide
whether you're in trouble or not."

   She removed her hand from his shorts and put it on his chest.  "Not now.
Not yet.  Not with the kids here.  I can't."

   He took her hand and kissed her fingertips.  "Take all the time you
need. I'm a very patient man."

   He rolled away from her and bounded out of bed, heading for the
bathroom.

   Claire rolled over too, to face the other bed.

   What she saw was Bobby's open eyes staring at her.  He was up on one
elbow, obviously looking up and over the edge of the higher bed she was in.
Lori's lifted head was above his and she was staring at her mother too.

   Lori spoke.  "Mommy?  What are you DOING?!"

   Claire was quite familiar with how children viewed—or rather
attempted NOT to view—the sexuality of their parents.  She remembered
the first time her father had, at the breakfast table, come up behind her
mother, reaching around her to cup her breasts and kiss her on the neck. 
Claire had been dumbfounded, expecting her mother to slap at his hands and
tell him what a terrible man he was.  Instead she had let her head fall to
one side to give his lips more access.  Claire had been fourteen at the
time, and had actually shivered with revulsion at the blatant sexual play
of her parents.  Parents didn't have SEX!  Ewwwwww!

   Of course she hadn't said anything.  And, as she began to watch her
parents more closely, she saw many other times when they touched each other
in ways that made it quite clear they were sexual beings...and happy in
those roles.  She had made the adjustment to being able to...let...her
parents be normal.  It had awakened her own lusts.

   So Claire had some idea of what was going through her daughter's mind.

   And her reaction to that was a mixed bag of sympathy for her daughter
and anger that, at a time when she might just have accidentally found
something that could make her very happy, her daughter might try to stop
that.  If she'd had more time to process events, she might have spoken with
a little less heat in her voice, or perhaps, might not have spoken at all.

   But speak she did.

   "Whatever I'm doing, it isn't as bad as what you and Bobby were doing
last night."

   She hadn't meant to approach this little problem at either this time or
in quite this way, but it was too late.  She saw Lori's face go pale in the
morning light and Bobby swallowed.

   Bobby started to say something—probably a denial—and Claire
cut him off.

   "We'll discuss this later.  This is neither the time nor the place."

   As happens in a lot of confrontations between parent and child, Claire
felt the need to do something, or go somewhere—to break the initial
contact while she had the upper hand.  Had she been at home she could have
begun dinner, or gone to her room, or snatched up a hamper to start
laundry; anything to make it obvious that she had other things to do and
would take up the subject at hand when SHE was ready.

   But here, in this motel room, there WAS no dinner to make or laundry to
do.  She got out of bed, but there was no place for her to go.  Without
thinking—or perhaps because she was thinking too MUCH—she
grabbed her clothes out of her suitcase and stormed...more or less...into
the bathroom to change.

   She had completely forgotten the bathroom was already occupied.

   Chuck was standing at the sink running his fingers through a patch of
hair that he suspected was beginning to be contaminated with gray hairs. 
He was much too young for that to happen, but suspected it anyway.  After
taking care of his overfull bladder, he had stripped down to take a shower
and was waiting for the water to get warm.  When the door opened he
automatically turned toward it.

   Claire's first impression was that the light was on.  Who had gone off
and left the light on?  That wasted energy!  That was immediately followed
by her mind trying to process the fact that there was a naked man, with a
decidedly thick and manly penis, standing in the bathroom.

   The realization that it was Chuck was part and parcel of the smile that
bloomed on his face as he assumed she had rethought her resistance and had
decided to join him in the bathroom intentionally.  His smile wasn't a
leer. It was, in fact, genuine happiness that this beautiful woman had
decided to grace him with her company.

   Claire's unconscious brain recorded this information, tweaked an organ
that produced a particular hormone, so as to increase that hormonal level
in her bloodstream, and then made several other...adjustments...to Claire's
psyche and physiology.

   Claire's conscious brain was horrified.  She was three quarters of the
way through the door when she stopped.

   "OH!" she said.

   Chuck looked confused.  His mind was beginning to register the shock on
her face and recognize that his initial belief that she had decided to come
and join him might be less than well founded.

   "Close the door, you're letting out all the heat," he said, for lack of
anything else to say.

   Claire, being an adult, and a mother, who was quite used to thinking in
just those terms closed the door...behind her.  She stared at the naked man
facing her.

   "Well," said Chuck, relaxing when she didn't scream or anything.  "This
is a little awkward."

   Something made Chuck want to treat this like it was just a minor social
gaff.  He, too, had been unaccountably happy when he woke up to find Claire
Richardson cuddled up against him.  That her hand had been lying lightly on
his manhood had just been the frosting on the cake.  Chuck really HAD been
too busy with school to have much of a social life.  He'd taken a few of
the unattached female teachers out on dates, but most of them had been set
up by other teachers who wanted to match-make, and hadn't turned out to be
anything near long term situations.  He didn't have a particularly high sex
drive, and the fantasies he masturbated to occasionally were satisfaction
enough that he wasn't impatient to find a warm pussy to call his own.  In
his experience, warm pussies were often attached to clinging women who
wanted themselves to be the primary focus of his attention.

   But Claire Richardson was a woman who aroused his interest.  It had been
a given that she was beautiful and successful.  He could see that when he
met her.  Since then, though, he had noticed her buoyant capacity to be
girlish, even though her routine demeanor was mature.  She took obvious joy
in her children, who were good kids, something teachers appreciated.  He
sensed in her a smoldering passion that he suspected would be spectacular
if it were ever unleashed.  He saw glimpses of that as she enjoyed the
combat between teenage warriors on the field.

   Chuck didn't know if anything could develop with this fascinating woman,
but he didn't want to just let things get strained, or uncomfortable.  And
so he opted to treat the events of the last few hours as something slightly
off normal, but cute—one of those things you tell stories about later
in life and laugh at.

   "It's amazing," he said, turning back to the mirror and fiddling with
his hair, as if her sudden entrance was nothing more than a minor
distraction, "how underdressed someone can feel in a bathroom."

   "Oh damn, I'm sorry.  I forgot you were in here," said Claire, somehow
more upset that he was apparently ignoring her than she was that he was
stark naked and she was standing with him in a motel bathroom.  "I had to
yell at the kids and then I wanted to get away from them and..."

   Claire's voice trailed off.  She lost her train of thought as her mind
caught up to the situation.  She WAS standing in a motel bathroom with a
naked man!  And the man was looking in the mirror instead of at her!  And
hadn't he just said something about how he was underdressed...as if SHE
were OVERDRESSED?

   "What's going on with the kids?" he asked, leaning closer to the mirror
to stretch at the bags under his eyes.

   "You're naked," squeaked Claire.

   Chuck smiled and turned to face the woman again.  "What was your first
clue?" he grinned.  Then he suggested, "I suspect you've seen men in my
condition before this.  Don't worry about it.  I was about to take a
shower, but I can wait if you want to go first."

   What went through Claire's mind was an imaginary scene in a movie in
which she and Chuck were the stars.  She saw herself dropping her silk
pajamas on the floor and Chuck holding the shower curtain open for her to
step into the tub.  She saw her naked body brush up against his as she
entered the shower.  She felt his hands sliding over her soapy body as he
washed her.

   The tingle of her nipples crinkling brought Claire out of her short
fantasy and all the feelings she had felt lying next to this man in bed
rushed back to overwhelm her.  She looked helplessly at the man she'd only
known for a few days.  She was so turned on she was actually vibrating, her
whole body shaking with tension.  She shouldn't be here.  Not with a naked
man.  Not with THIS naked man.  Her children were right outside.  They KNEW
she was in here with this man.  She should leave immediately…but she
didn't WANT to leave.

   "I don't know what to do," she said in a little girl voice.  She
suddenly felt very much like a little girl.  She was perilously close to
crying again.

   Chuck left the sink and came over to her.  She looked into his eyes and
felt her will to resist draining away.

   "Do you want to take a shower?" he asked softly.

   The remembered fragments of the shower scene in her fantasy bubbled up
in Claire's mind and she nodded.  Almost without her own volition her voice
said, "Uh huh."

   "The water should be warm by now," he suggested.

   She nodded again, not trusting herself to speak.

   "You can't take a shower in your pajamas," he said.

   He took the bundle of clothing from her hands and set it on the counter
of the sink.  His hands went to the big blue buttons of her silk pajamas
and he began undoing them.  He worked slowly, his hands dropping from each
button, when it was loose, to the next one.  Claire felt cool air flow
against the skin between her breasts.  She couldn't lift her hands for some
reason and just stood there as his hands came to her shoulders and pushed
the silk.  It slid off, over her shoulders, and she could feel the caress
of the cloth as it glided down her arms.  His hands smoothed along the tops
of her shoulders and down the outside of her arms.

   Suddenly she was standing topless in a motel bathroom with a naked man.

   A part of her brain noticed that he didn't ogle her naked breasts, with
their stiffened nipples.  Instead he gazed into her eyes as his hands slid,
with a feather touch down her arms from her shoulders and moved to her
hips, gripping the waistband of her pajama bottoms.  Her eyes followed his
as his head began to sink, and his eyes stayed locked onto hers as he went
to one knee.

   His eyes still locked onto hers, he began to pull her bottoms down until
they were pooled at her feet.  As if in a dream she lifted one foot and
stepped sideways with it.  She was acutely aware that when she did this,
her naked, defenseless pussy was now open in front of this man.  She began
to tremble harder and felt an unaccountable sense of relief as he stood
back up.  She wanted him to hug her.

   Instead, Chuck took her hand and led her to the tub.  Just like in her
fantasy he pulled the shower curtain back, making a doorway for her to step
into the tub.  His eyes had never left hers.

   As she stepped into the tub Claire replayed the shower scene in her mind
and pleasure shot through her as she anticipated the next part.

   Her fantasy came to a jarring stop as, when she stepped into the tub, he
stayed outside and let the curtain fall back to break the lock between
their eyes.

   "If you need any help, feel free to ask," came his deep voice from
outside.

   Claire blinked and realized she was wet.  Then, and only then, did she
feel the water beating against her shoulder and one breast.  Mixed emotions
of joy, anger, frustration and sexual passion raged through her mind and
body.  What kind of man WAS this?  How could he DO this to her?

   Claire's hand jerked to the shower curtain and she flung it open.

   "Of COURSE I need your help, you...YOU...YOU MAN!" she barked.

   It was then Claire noticed that, while she had been in a fog as her body
was slowly made naked, Chuck's body had gone through a change.  That heavy
thick thing she had seen hanging between his legs when she first came into
the bathroom was hanging no longer.  Now it was pointing at her.  It was
the first erect penis Claire had seen in ten years and the effect it had on
her was electric.

   "Get IN here," she growled.

   The rest of her shower went much more like her fantasy had.  His fantasy
was a bit more detailed than hers had been though.

   In her fantasy she had felt his skin against hers, her breasts pushing
into his chest and hands.  She had left out the part where his mouth
fastened on her aching nipples and sucked until she thought she'd go mad.

   Her fantasy had included his hands sliding all over her slippery soapy
body.  His supplied the slippery friction of his prick gliding into her
pussy as they stood in tight embrace.  He was strong enough to, once he got
her to spread her legs, squat between them, digging the tip of his cock
into her famished pussy and then stand up, lifting her with the penetration
of his penis until she had to stand on her tiptoes, her arms tightly around
him to keep from falling backward.

   Her fantasy hadn't included the overwhelming feeling of
fullness...completeness that his thick penis caused in her unused sex, as
it pressed against her along every inch of her delicate tissues.  She
hadn't realized how empty she had felt until she was full to overflowing.

   And somehow her fantasy had left out his hot kisses, his tongue taking
her breath away as he bounced on the balls of his feet, dangling her on his
spike as her clit was punished by the base of his cock where it skewered
her.  Her mind kept trying to tell her this must be all a dream.  Her body
argued vociferously that it was very real.

   Her orgasm left her so weak she couldn't even hold on to him anymore,
but his strong arms around her waist only let her upper torso lean
backwards, her arms hanging down slightly behind her, her head thrown back
until her neck muscles complained.  Warm water kissed her chin and splashed
on her breasts.

   In that position she felt him tense, and heard his groan of completion
as she felt the fountain of his ejaculation deep inside her.  Her passion
was so sated that, even though she thought about the fact that she had
stopped taking her birth control pills years and years and years ago, she
couldn't possibly care less at this moment.

   Claire's back began to complain and she mustered the effort to lean
forward and press her breasts against his muscled chest again.  Her face
went into his chest and she was surprised to again feel the beat of warm
water on her back as his hands slid upward to stroke her there.

   "I didn't mean for this to happen," she mumbled into his chest.

   "In that case, I'm really glad you don't have more self control," came
her lover's response.

   She looked up to meet his eyes for the first time since she’d
dragged him into the tub and saw only warmth there.  It thrilled her to the
core.

   "Me too," she said and kissed him.

   Despite the incredible intimacy of what had just happened, there was an
atmosphere of awkwardness between them as they separated and rewashed their
bodies separately...hurriedly, with economy of movement.

   It was cold outside the tub and she shivered again as he handed her a
towel.  It wasn't big enough, or fluffy enough, and she had a sudden wish
that this had taken place in her own master bathroom...or maybe his.

   "That's the first time something like that has ever happened to me,"
said Chuck conversationally, as he bent and dried his legs.

   Claire felt the need to engage him in something other than sex.  "I
can't believe that," she said, thinking about...sex.  "You're much too
handsome and...manly.  I would have thought you do this...a lot."

   "Yeah, well don't believe all the hype," he said, rubbing his penis
briskly with the towel.  "All this stud-muffin crap isn't at all what it's
cracked up to be." He looked up and grinned.  "We stud-muffins are quite
often insecure and underappreciated."

   "Well, I appreciate you," said Claire.  She was shocked that she'd said
that so blatantly and with such emotion.

   "Thank you, Madame" he bowed to her.  She smiled at the ridiculous
formal motion, done by a naked man.

   When he stood back up he said "Are you really OK?"

   She felt another thrill go through her at the care in his question.  She
suddenly felt much more comfortable with him, which seemed exceedingly odd,
considering what she'd just done with him.  She threw the towel over her
head to partly dry her hair.

   "I have no idea.  None of this has turned out ANYTHING like I had
expected it to.  This whole trip is turning out to be...I don't
know...amazing?" She finished her statement as a question.

   "I'm with you on that," he said.  "I thought I was just going to coach
football.  If somebody had said I was going to make love to one of the most
beautiful women in the world I would have said they were crazy." His voice
suggested that his comment about her beauty was one that anyone would
understand and automatically agree with.  He wasn't trying to get in her
panties with that comment.  It made Claire's stomach flutter and she
suddenly wanted to have him again.  In the old days she often had three or
four orgasms to Denny's one.  She made a conscious effort to redirect her
thoughts.

   "Thank you, Sir," she said and curtsied to him, using the towel to mimic
her non-existent skirts.

   He looked at her and that warmth was back in his eyes.  "You really are
beautiful, you know."

   "I bet you say that to all the naked women in your motel bathroom." She
smiled.

   "I don't know about that.  I've never been in a motel bathroom with a
naked woman before," said Chuck, pulling on his underwear.  "If it's
anything like this, though, I'm going to try to have naked women in my
motel bathroom all the time from now on." He grinned and continued to get
dressed.

   Claire did the same, combing through her hair and deciding that it
wasn't worth the time it would take to dry and style it.  Instead she
pulled it back and put it in a damp pony tail.  When she was done she faced
the door, but didn't open it.

   "I don't know how to go out there," she said.

   "You open the door and walk through it," said Chuck, buttoning his
shirt. "It's easy.  I've done it lots of times."

   "Thank you so much," said Claire acidly.  "You've never done it with two
teenagers to face."

   "Claire, I was awake the other night," he said.

   She turned around, her throat tightening.  "What do you mean?" she
asked.

   "I couldn't sleep...with you in the bed with me.  It was too different.
And I felt you tense up and heard the kids.  Then when you jumped out of
bed I got ready to mediate...things.  When you were in the bathroom I
didn't hear you...um...use the facilities.  But you flushed anyway, so I
knew you were trying to do something.  I didn't know what, but I knew you
were upset.  And, when you came back to bed you didn't do anything, so I
figured you didn't know what to do."

   She looked at him in amazement.

   "So I put my arm over you so you wouldn't have to decide what to do," he
said calmly.  "I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have done that.  It's really none of
my business."

   "What must you think of us?" moaned Claire, hiding her face in her
hands.

   His hands pulled hers away.  "Look, I'm not a father.  I don't
understand all this.  But they're just kids and kids do that kind of thing.
If I WERE a father I think I'd rather they did it with each other than with
strangers...people I didn't know anything about.  But like I said, it's not
my business.  If you want me to talk to them, though, I will."

   "But its...wrong," said Claire.

   "OK, it's wrong," said Chuck.  "Is that the only thing they've ever done
wrong?"

   "No, of course not," said Claire.  "But what if she gets pregnant?"

   "So, put her on the pill," said Chuck.

   "And just let them go on?" asked Claire, her eyes wide.

   "Do you remember the first man to have sex with you?" he asked.

   Claire nodded.

   "Could anybody have made you stop?" he asked.

   Claire's eyes widened more.  She shook her head.

   "So, put her on the pill and tell them to be careful, and let them learn
what life is all about," he said.

   Claire nibbled her lip, staring at nothing while she thought.  She
looked at Chuck's face and felt heat in her loins.  She had it bad for this
younger man.  Abruptly she turned, grabbed her pajamas from where Chuck had
folded them neatly on the counter, opened the door and walked out to
confront her children.

   Chapter Four

   Lori had looked on in disbelief as her mother had gotten out of bed
after kissing the coach and then followed him into the bathroom.  It was as
though she had suddenly been transported to another dimension of reality.
And that was on top of the fact that their mother apparently knew her
children were sexually active...with each other.  Lori wanted to run away
from the shame she felt, and yet, her mother's actions were so bizarre that
she wanted to stay and watch what happened next.  Caution overrode her
curiosity, though, and when it became apparent that her mother was going to
STAY in the bathroom with Coach, Lori jumped up and pulled the covers off
her brother.

   "Get up," she ordered tersely.  "We have to get out of here before she
comes back."

   For Bobby, the reaction was slightly different.  There was nothing he
loved more than the feeling of Lori's firm, tight pussy wrapped around his
cock.  He loved the feel of her skin on his, of her lips against his.  He
loved the smell of her hair.  He loved the feeling of semen bursting
through his prick and out into Lori's belly.  He hated using a condom. 
Every time he made love with his sister something deep in his subconscious
hoped his baby would begin to grow in her.  He hated school only because he
wished they were old enough to run away together and start a family.  He
knew how stupid that really was.  He knew it would never work.  But it was
how he felt, and he couldn't...or wouldn't…give it up voluntarily.
Not even if it was forbidden by his mother.

   All this was the end result, actually, of how he felt ABOUT his mother.
He had always thought she was beautiful.  As time went on he recognized the
strength in her, her abilities, her loving nature.  When he entered puberty
and saw his first Playboy magazine, the first Bunny he looked at could have
been his mother's twin sister.  And he had been in love with his mother
ever since.

   Of course she wasn't available to him for anything more than the hurried
hugs and quick kisses she bestowed on him and his sister as she went about
her busy life.  The kids were independent, and could cook and do their own
laundry.  They even went to the grocery store and did the family shopping
occasionally.

   In fact, a trip to the store and cooking was what had brought Lori and
Bobby together as more than just brother and sister.  Claire had been gone
one night, to some function or other, and Lori had a hankering for pie. 
She couldn't drive yet, being only fifteen, so she begged her brother to
take her to the store to get the necessary ingredients.  Having nothing
else to do that night, he agreed and their trip through the store had been
interesting.  It had been the first time they were in a grocery store
together, without their mother.

   In the past they had competed with each other, trying to get their
mother to buy what each wanted, without caring what the other got.  Their
separate, competing cries of "MOMMY, can I have THIS?" had driven Claire to
distraction, like it does every parent, and she had coped with it, like
most parents have to, by striking a balance of giving the children what
they wanted...if it was good for them and if she could afford it.

   This time, though, there was no competition.  As they strolled down the
aisles, looking for baking powder and various other things they had no idea
where to look for in a store, they worked as a team.  They got distracted
in the cereal aisle, pointing out various older cereals they had loved as
children and not eaten for years—remembering a carefree time of their
lives that was gone forever.  And they saw items they didn't even know
existed before that trip, some of which were strange and funny to their
teen sensibilities.

   sAnd they laughed, and joked, and found that they liked each other.  It
was the beginning of a pivotal experience.

   For those of you who have no siblings, this phenomenon of a brother and
sister "liking" each other may be difficult to grasp.  You “only
children” out there would assume, naturally, that ALL brothers and
sisters "like" each other.  Nothing could be further from the truth. 
Siblings, as has been stated before, compete.  They compete for resources
within the family.  They compete in their social relationships outside the
family.  And they compete for the attention of the caregivers in the family
unit.  They compete for space, for time on the TV, for clothing, for use of
the car.  They compete for everything.  If the parents are good at their
job, siblings learn to work together for the benefit of the whole family.
But, arguably, that's fairly rare, because parents are sucked into the
competition model at work and in their own social groups.  Some parents
even use competition to get what THEY want from their children.  True, most
siblings find a way to like each other later in life, when they've grown up
enough to recognize competition for the double edged sword it really is,
but for siblings under twenty to actually LIKE each other...well it's a lot
more rare than it should be.

   And "like" doesn't mean they can be in the same room for a while without
arguing.  It doesn't mean that they mind their manners at the dinner table.
It doesn't mean that they merely refrain from badmouthing their brother or
sister to their friends.  What it means is that they actually seek each
other out, caring what the other thinks, sharing special feelings and
moments, helping because they care what happens to the other sibling.  It
means they want their brother or sister to be happy, and that they'll do
whatever they can to help them find that happiness.

   It means they are friends...with a blood tie that makes that friendship
more special than most others.

   Finding that, or realizing that, is a powerful, life changing
experience.

   Back in the kitchen, Bobby decided to stay and "help" make the pie.  The
pie became pie and cookies, and then a cake was added and, at some point
when Lori had flour on her nose and stains on her T shirt, Bobby had
realized she was really a beautiful girl.  His eyes had taken in the swell
of her breasts, under that shirt, and her rounded hips, and her dimples,
and the way her pony tail bobbed and swung as she moved her head.  And he
realized he had found another woman who compared to his mother.

   More than that, she compared favorably.

   "You're beautiful," he said, with wonder in his voice.  "You're really
beautiful, Lori."

   That had taken Lori completely off guard.  While she had become
interested in boys, it was more of a clinical interest.  Her girlfriends
gushed about kisses and groping sessions, but none of the boys she looked
at—who were available—made anything happen in her when she
imagined herself wrapped in their arms.  She had a dream lover whose only
physical existence was her pillow, which she hugged and kissed and clamped
between her young thighs sometimes, but he had no face.  He had height, and
width and strong hands in her imagination...but no face.  She went on a few
dates, but the boys were vacuous, talking about things she didn't care
about or understand.  All they seemed to want to do was eat and boast,
and expected her to find that attractive enough to take off her panties and
jump their bones.  One football player who asked her out gave her a package
in school the day before their scheduled date.  Inside was a pair of
crotchless panties, with a note that said, "For our date with destiny."

   She just wasn't impressed.  That date hadn't happened, even though she
kept the panties.  They were frilly, lacy and sheer—nothing like what
she owned before that.

   No, boys just didn't impress her.

   But none of them had ever said she was beautiful in a way that made it
obvious they really meant it, or paid any attention to her in soft, caring
ways.  And Lori could tell that Bobby actually meant what he'd said.

   Bobby blushed when he realized he'd spoken out loud.  "Uh...sorry," he
said.

   "Why?" questioned his sister.  "It was a nice thing to say."

   "Yeah, but I don't talk that way to girls," said her brother. 
"Especially not my sister."

   "Well you should," she sniffed.  "You made me feel really good. 
Nobody's ever said I was beautiful before."

   "You're kidding." Bobby was truly astonished.  It was obvious his sister
was a stone fox...once you took the time to look at her.

   "Well, I hear things like 'You're HOT, Lori,' and 'You give me a case of
the blue balls, Lori,' and crap like that.  All that means is, 'I'm horny
and I want you to take care of my little problem.' They don't really think
I'm beautiful like you meant it.  The only other person who ever said that
to me was mom," said Lori, turning back to the counter to roll out more
dough.

   Bobby was a little off balance, or he probably wouldn't have said what
he said next.

   "Well she should know," he muttered.  "She's the most beautiful woman I
know."

   Lori heard something in his voice that struck a chord deep inside her.
Those two simple sentences were said with a level of conviction and
passion, and even a hint of frustration, she had never heard in a man's
voice before.

   "Why Bobby Richardson!" she said, her eyes narrowing.  "You sound like
you're in love with your own mother!"

   The look on Bobby's face had given her even more information about just
how strong her brother's feelings were about their mother.  Initially she
was shocked, but the fluttery feeling in her own stomach made her look at
the situation differently than she would have if one of her friends had
come up to her and said, "Hey, you know your brother?  He's got the hots
for your mother!"

   As for Bobby, he felt like a pervert whose picture has just been
published in the paper, with a warning to keep mothers away from him.  He
felt panic well up in his chest as he looked at his sister, expecting her
face to take on an ugly scowl.  When it didn't, but rather looked curious,
he tried to salvage the situation.

   "Sure I love my mother.  Everybody loves their mother."

   But Lori read between the lines.  She was around him enough to know
everything that he did and most people that he talked to, and there was no
way in the world that he could have done anything with their mother and her
not at least suspect it.  She thought about her own lack of interest in
dating and her dream lover.

   "Is that why you don't have a girlfriend?" she asked.  There was a tiny
thing inside her that made her worry that she must be gay because of her
lack of interest in boys.  She had worried about Bobby too, because he
didn't date much either.

   Bobby tried to bluff his way through it.  "Of course not.  I go out all
the time."

   "Yeah, but you never go out with anybody very many times," countered his
sister.

   "You should talk.  Jimmy Jones said he had a date planned with you and
you didn't even show up!"

   "That's because he gave me crotchless panties to wear on the date," said
Lori.  "Would you have wanted me to go on that date?"

   "He did not!" said Bobby.  The idea of one of his friends giving his
sister crotchless panties was just ludicrous.  "You're kidding," said
Bobby, his mind suddenly conjuring up crotchless panties on his sister. 
What made it even more bizarre was that he could only imagine them on the
OUTSIDE of what she was wearing.

   "Nope.  I still have them.  They're hidden," she said.

   "Wow," said Bobby softly.  "I'm going to have to have a little talk with
Jimmy."

   "No you're not.  I already took care of things.  I don't need big
brother throwing his weight around.  I can take care of myself," she said
firmly.

   "Did you ever wear them?" he asked suddenly.

   Lori put her hands on her hips.  "Where would I wear crotchless
panties?" she asked heatedly.

   "Come on, Lori, he didn't really give you crotchless panties," Bobby
said laughing.

   Lori stuck her jaw out.  "What?  You don't believe me?  You want to see
them or something?"

   She turned for the kitchen doorway.  "Come on big brother, I'll prove it
to you."

   Bobby tried to defend himself.  "I didn't say I didn't believe you.  I
just wanted to know if you'd ever worn them." He followed her down the hall
to her room.

   When he got into the room Lori was bent over, rummaging in the bottom
drawer of her dresser.

   Again Bobby saw wispy red panties spread over his sister's round
bottom...on the OUTSIDE of her jeans.  He wanted to laugh, except that he
felt guilty.

   Lori turned around unexpectedly, a bit of blue cloth in her hand.  She
saw where his eyes had been.

   "You pervert!  You were looking at my butt!" she said.

   "You can't tell a guy you're going to show him a pair of crotchless
panties and not expect him to look at your butt," Bobby argued.  "Besides,
you're SHOWING me crotchless panties, so you're just as much of a pervert
as I am."

   Reminded of what she had in her hands, Lori held them up and spread the
waistband apart with her hands.  That they were crotchless was immediately
apparent.

   "See?" she taunted him.  "I was telling the truth!"

   "I DIDN'T say you weren't!" said Bobby.  "I just wanted to know if
you’ve ever WORN them!"

   "NO I HAVEN'T!" she yelled.

   "WELL WHY NOT?" her brother yelled back at her.

   Like many siblings, they had gotten into an argument that wasn't really
about...the argument.  What was REALLY happening was that they were both
experiencing things they couldn't understand, and yelling was one way of
coping with it.

   "I've never found a boy I wanted to wear them for," she said, her voice
tightly controlled, but full of emotion.  "I suppose YOU want to see me in
them."

   Bobby was struck dumb.  He had no idea how to react to that.  But his
autonomic nervous system reacted for him.  His heart rate increased, as did
his breathing rate.  His pupils dilated, to let in more light.  He felt a
tightness in his chest.

   And his prick began to fill with blood.

   It showed on his face, and that fluttery feeling in Lori's belly turned
into a ball of warmth that she had never felt before.  "You DO want to see
me in them," she said, her voice hushed.

   "I AM a pervert," moaned Bobby.  "My DICK is getting hard, Lori!" He
said it like he couldn’t believe it.  It came out again, helplessly.
"I'm a pervert," moaned Bobby.  "My DICK is getting hard for my own
sister!"

   Now Lori was the one who was speechless.  Her own autonomic nervous
system kicked in and made the same kinds of changes in her body.  Since she
didn't have a penis to engorge, her system sent the blood to her nipples
and clitoris and they swelled, becoming more sensitive.

   Just like Bobby knew what his swelling penis meant, Lori knew what the
sudden tingle in her nipples and the itch between her legs meant.  And, at
this point, though Lori didn't understand why that was happening, that
fluttery feeling in her stomach made her feel...daring.

   She had finally found a boy she wanted to wear crotchless panties with.

   "Turn around," she said.

   "What?" Bobby didn't understand.

   "I'm going to put them on.  Turn around," she repeated.

   Lori never thought about the idea that, in the space of minutes, she
would be standing in front of her brother dressed only in crotchless
panties.  But the idea of doing just that was so exciting that she almost
trembled.  She was caught on the horns of a teenage dilemma in which, on
the one hand, she wanted to do something exciting.  That was to appear in
front of a boy—her brother—clad only in crotchless panties.  On
the other hand, though, she had been taught to be modest and that was well
ingrained into her psyche.  She didn't think about the fact that if he
watched her get undressed and put the panties on, he wouldn't see any more
than if he just saw her in them.  All she thought about was that getting
undressed in front of a boy was immodest, so he had to turn his back.

   Bobby turned in a daze, simply responding to her directions.  His mind
was in a whirl.  He kept seeing panties on the outside of her jeans.  True,
they had changed from red to blue, but he still couldn't visualize her
without the jeans.  Before he could think of what to do she spoke again.

   "OK...you can see them now."

   Bobby's mind still had her in jeans.  The reality of what she'd done
blasted that image from his mind forever.

   She had, in fact, stripped naked before putting them on.  She stood
tense, ready to bolt, a stiffness in her limbs that made her look like a
mannequin.

   Bobby gasped in a breath as he took in white breasts that were larger
than he'd imagined, with rosy pink nipples that were longer than he'd
imagined.  The blue lace set off her skin and hair, all of which were pale
and drew the gaze to the soft fluff of almost white hair that peeked out
between the opening at the crotch.

   "Oh fuck, Lori," he gasped.

   Bobby's face...the look in his eyes, an almost predatory jungle look of
overwhelming emotion, and the word he used, made Lori's knees weak.  She
felt like a mouse cringing under the paws of a cat that was ready to eat
her.  It was the most fantastic feeling she had ever felt in her life.  His
face said it all.  She really WAS beautiful to this man who was her
brother. He WANTED her.

   Had she been able to stop and think, she would have realized she'd seen
that same look on the faces of boys she'd pushed away.  And she might have
wondered about that.  Why would she push them away and then want to welcome
that look on her brother's face?

   But she didn't have time to think.  Nervously she asked, "Do I look OK?"


   Bobby tried to clamp down on the emotions that had already made his dick
iron hard.  This was his sister.  He shouldn't feel this way about her.  He
shouldn't feel the things he felt for his mother either.  Feeling his
control slipping, he decided to confess, hoping that Lori would be
compelled to throw him out and remove any risk that he might act on those
emotions.

   "No, you don't look OK," he said, his teeth hard to part in his mouth.
"You look fabulous.  Lori…I want to do things to you.  Maybe I
should leave now."

   Lori's building emotions continued to push her toward where, an hour
ago, she would never have dreamed of going.

   "Like what?" she asked, her stomach churning.

   Bobby, having a difficult time cutting things off, was lured further by
her apparent interest and lack of horror at what he was suggesting.

   "Hold you," he said tensely.

   "What's wrong with that?" asked his sister.  "That's not perverted."

   "You're naked," he pointed out.

   "No I'm not, I'm wearing panties," she countered.

   Bobby's frustration and desire bubbled over.

   "I want to suck your luscious titties.  I want to lick your pussy!  I
WANT TO FUCK YOU!" he yelled.

   There was a sound in Lori's abdomen, akin to the sound a stomach
makes—growling when hunger is strong.  But it wasn't Lori's stomach
that made that sound.  Her pussy got so wet it dripped, soaking the fluff
poking from between the edges of the crotchless portion of her panties. 
Dewey drops collected on the ends of a few of those hairs.  Lori flushed,
feeling the heat of the blood suffusing her cheeks and neck and chest.  She
felt fire shooting through her loins and her nipples ached so much she had
to reach up and squeeze them both between her thumbs and fingers.  The
pleasure of that tipped the balance.

   "Would you please kiss me first?" she asked softly.

   Bobby discovered that the idea of kissing his sister was suddenly
appealing in a way that surprised him.  She was his sister...and that made
it seem odd.  But she was a beautiful young woman, too, and that made it
attractive to him.  Something bloomed in his gut and he found himself
anxious to kiss her, wondering what her lips would feel like...taste like.
He was so focused on the kiss part that he didn't even process the rest of
the insinuation in her question.  His autonomic nervous system heard that
promise, though, and finished preparing his body for mating.

   What happened then was a comedy of errors as both young people crashed
into each other, each one trying to do something with their hands and not
knowing what to do.  Their lips crushed together and, for a few minutes,
that was enough.  But te feel of her hot breasts through his shirt made
Bobby crazy and he pushed her away long enough to rip his own shirt off.

   Then they crashed together again, their chests rubbing.  Their noses
clashed as each one tried to tilt his or her head in the same direction. 
Then they both switched to the other direction at the same time and their
teeth touched, banging.  Bobby's hands cupped his sister's butt through the
panties and she moaned as he pulled her against his stiff bone.

   Bobby groaned as he felt nectar leaking from his cock.  "Lori, you don't
know what you're doing to meee," he moaned.

   "Show me," she whispered.  She had never been this excited in her whole
short life.  She wanted to see everything...feel everything...do
everything. She was a runaway emotional train with no brakes.

   Then they were apart while Bobby frantically pushed down his jeans,
kicking off his shoes.  Lori held her breath as he thumbed his shorts and
pushed them down.

   What she saw then shook her to her core.  Bobby's prick was, in her
opinion, a massive thing, thick and veined, not as long as she thought it
might be...blunt looking, like a cardboard roll when the toilet paper is
gone, but with pink flesh wrapped tightly around it.

   "Oh Bobby," she sighed.  Her mind screamed that it would never fit in
her, and then argued that nobody said they would even try that, while other
parts of her mind couldn't wait to feel that inside her.  She almost
fragmented mentally with her urge to run and her urge to take that thing
into her mouth and hand and pussy.

   "Oh Bobby," she sighed again.  "Oh please hurry."

   She pulled him to her bed, with its pink bedspread covered with cartoon
characters, and their legs tangled as she tried to lie down, crawl on the
bed and pull him with her all at the same time.

   Then he was over her again, and that same feeling of being a mouse under
a cat came flashing back into her mind.  His head darted to her breasts and
she gurgled with the impact of the feeling as he sucked hard on a nipple.
Her legs tried to flop open, an automatic Neanderthal reaction as her body
begged to be bred, but his leg was in the way and she could only move one
leg to the side.  He felt her leg hit his and lifted his own and she
groaned as she was able to spread her legs, opening herself to be
plundered. He shifted to the other nipple and her knees drew up, digging
her heels into the bed.  She arched her back, driving her pussy up at him,
and whined when her thighs hit his waist and she couldn't make it touch
anything.  Her pussy wanted to be touched...stroked...fucked.  With her
eyes closed she remembered the look of that huge thing that jutted from the
brown hair at the base of it and reached, twisting sideways, groping,
trying to find it.  She whined again.  It was beyond her reach.

   "Bobbeeeeeee," she moaned.  "I'm on fire."

   Bobby had given up trying to control himself, too.  His mind, too, was
fragmented by the multiple sensations vying for his attention.  The feel of
her soft naked skin touching him sent electric sensations, almost pain, out
from each place they touched.  The taste of her nipples threatened to make
his head explode.  The feel of her legs opening...promising that they
wouldn't have to stop...made his prick lurch and drip.  Her voice rasped in
his brain, like the cry of a child who needs help and who drives you to
heroic feats to save her.  He pushed up and moved up, knowing his penis
would be just above her pussy.

   When Bobby moved, Lori's flailing hand found his young manhood.  She
gripped and pulled, almost savagely, until it nosed into the gap made in
the panties for this very reason.  It nudged between the petals of her
pussy.  His motion already started, when Bobby felt that fiery embrace, he
pushed savagely, impaling his sister's defenseless pussy in one streaking
lunge that took the tip of his cock clear to her womb.

   Lori was shocked at the pain.  Her body had been telling her this was
what she wanted.  But his savage, hymen-shredding entry sobered her
instantly and she writhed, trying to get away from the invading monster.  A
scream of agony tore from her lips and her hands scrabbled now at his
sides, trying to push him away.  It was torture!

   Bobby was beyond control, though.  His mind registered her anguished
cry, but the Neanderthal part of it insisted that this was right—that
he must go on.  His hips lifted, drawing his prick almost out of his lover
and then fell, powering back into her belly.  She grunted with the force of
it and her fingernails dug painfully into his sides, pushing.  He let her
push him back up, and the muscles in his abdomen and buttocks clenched,
driving him into her again.  He heard the squelch of fluids being displaced
and the smack of skin hitting skin.

   His body set up a repetitive motion, pulling and then slamming back in,
pounding the soft body under him, as if he were trying to pound her into
submission as she cried out over and over again.  Her cries were like music
to the Neanderthal’s ears.

   =========================

   Lori couldn't make the pain go away.  He was too heavy...too strong. 
Then her pussy was suddenly empty and she took a breath to shout her
relief. That breath blasted out of her as another agonized cry as the
monster ravished her pussy a second time.  She felt like she was being
split open, that she must surely die.  Then the pounding began and she got
faint as her body jiggled and shook as it was abused.

   Then, suddenly, so suddenly that she was taken completely by surprise, a
streak of that earlier pleasure shot through her loins.  Her vaginal
tissues were beginning to adapt...stretch...loosen, and his penis scraped
along her engorged clit each time it slammed into her body.  Her eyes had
been closed, squeezed tightly at the pain, but now they opened wide as more
and more of those delicious feelings began to flood her senses once again.
Now the balance had tipped and, while there was still pain, it had taken on
a new feel, like the pain of worked muscles...a bearable pain...a good
pain.

   And even that faded away to be replaced by overwhelming feelings of
ecstasy that made her lift her hips, like they had before, when they were
seeking something to fill her emptiness with.  Her hips seemed to know when
to do this and soon she was pounding her pussy UP off the bed as his prick
slithered into her on his down stroke.  She spread her legs wider now and
that helped too, allowing him to go deeper than before, where he hit
something that made Lori want to scream again, only this time NOT in pain,
but in joy!

   Lori had felt orgasms before when she used her fingers, and she felt
that excitement building inside her.  She welcomed it, because that was
something familiar, that she knew what to expect from.  But it kept
building and then built some more until again she thought she'd fly apart
if there wasn't some kind of release.  She cried out again, thrusting,
writhing, trying to reach for that sweet release.  Now her fingernails dug
into her brother's buttocks as she pulled him into her as deeply as
possible.

   Bobby too felt the release he so desperately sought begin to build.  He
gave no thought to letting that release take place outside his sister's
pussy.  His body drove him single-mindedly to just...get there.  And when
his balls clenched and he knew it was there, the Neanderthal in him
whispered, "Go deep," and he did.  He slammed into her one last time and
held himself rigid as his balls emptied themselves into the hot, clasping
pussy wrapped firmly around his prick.

   Lori felt Bobby go stiff.  She felt the penis inside her get even
larger. Then she felt the rush of heat deep in her belly, right next to the
thing she had almost instantly learned she loved to have prodded.  That
heat surrounded the little thing inside her and her orgasm loosed itself
throughout her body.

   Again, Bobby heard his sister's now hoarse voice give out an agonized
cry, but this one sounded different than the first ones had.  This one had
the force of unbridled joy supporting it.  The part of Bobby's mind that
knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that he had hurt his sister and hurt
her badly...relaxed a little.  She couldn't sound that joyful if she was
still in pain.

   They lay there, gripping each other with muscles that were almost
locked. They drew in great gasping breaths of air, which cleared their
minds enough to assess what had just happened.  Bobby could tell that he
was heavy upon her and rolled sideways, holding her, until they were face
to face, lying on their sides.

   Lori remembered the pain.  She knew how severe it had been—how she
would have done anything to make it stop.  But she couldn't feel that now.
And, as he rolled, and his now limp penis pulled out of her, Lori felt the
loss…the emptiness...and she knew that she would have to be filled
again.

   "I love you," she whispered to her brother.

   "How could you?  I heard your screams," he said.

   "That's gone.  I don't think that will happen again," she sighed.  "It
had better not," she added.

   "I raped you," he moaned.

   "No," she said.  She didn't know what that was, but it wasn't rape.  Not
as far as she was concerned.

   "How did this happen?" he whined.

   "I don't know," said Lori.  "And I don't care...as long as it happens
again."

   "We can't." He was a little boy again.  Now he thought of the
consequences.  "You'll get pregnant.  It will hurt you."

   "We'll do something about that," she said soothingly.

   "What did we do?" he sounded lost.

   "You took my cherry," she whispered.  "And I love you for it."

   She kissed him until he calmed down enough to know she was being
truthful with him.

   =========================

   Lori had walked gingerly for a day or two after that, but no one
noticed. It was Lori, in fact, who initiated their second liaison.  Bobby
had avoided her, still uncomfortable with the wild thing that had taken
control of him and changed their lives.  But Lori wouldn't be denied.  She
went to him in his room and badgered him into putting it in her again.

   When, this time, the only sounds she made were coos of encouragement and
joy, Bobby relaxed.  And to their amazement, this time was soft and gentle,
almost slow, without the raging passion that had consumed them both in that
initial encounter.  Bobby went slower, though just as deeply, and it was
Lori who began to make him speed up.  She had two orgasms before he flushed
her full of his seed.

   They were hooked.

   Just how much they were hooked was shown by the fact that they had been
driven to make love in a motel room with their mother only a few feet away.


   It had driven them until they had been caught.

   Chapter Five

   Lori couldn't believe it when she saw her mother follow Coach into the
bathroom.  Bobby gasped as well.  Both of them had seen their mother's hand
being placed on what was obviously Coach's hard dick.  And both had seen
her hand squeeze that lump.  And then there had been the kiss and some
whispering.  Bobby, who had always had a letch for his mother anyway, felt
his prick harden.  Lori was thinking about the fact that there was a man
touching her mother the way Bobby touched her.

   But the reality of what Claire had said to them both barged through
those emotions.

   "Oh, Bobby, she knows!” moaned Lori.  "We have to get out of
here."



   "Where to, Lori?  Where are we going to go?" asked Bobby.



   "I don't know, but I love you, Bobby and I'm not going to stop what we
do."



   "We can't just run away," complained Bobby.  "And why did she go in
there with him?  If she was really pissed off at us, she'd still be here
screaming...wouldn't she?"



   That got Lori's attention.  She was the more grounded of the two,
despite the fact that she had seduced her brother without actually setting
out to do so.  Bobby was right.  Their mother had basically announced that
she knew they were having sex, and had then gone into the bathroom with the
coach.  What did that mean?  Bobby spoke and broke her concentration.



   "What do you think she's going to say to us, Lori?" asked Bobby.  "You
think she'll come out of there and say, ‘Well, kids, I saw you
fucking and it looked really hot, so fuck all you want.’"



   "Of course not," said Lori.  "But maybe we can explain it to her...you
know, how we feel."



   "Maybe you were right the first time.  Maybe we should make ourselves
scarce," advised Bobby.  "Hurry, we can't have much longer."



   "Mom's been in there for a long time," said Lori.  "What can they be
doing in there?"



   "I don't know," said Bobby.  "Come on...get dressed...HURRY, LORI!"

   =========================

   The kids were dressed for the day.  Lori was standing by the door, her
hand on the handle, looking over her shoulder at Bobby, who was throwing
things in his carryall.  Lori said, "Now who's holding us up?  Hurry UP,
Bobby!" as the bathroom door was thrown open and their mother charged into
the room.

   "What's the big rush?" Claire asked much more calmly than she felt. 
Lori's face registered shock.  Claire's eyes went to the bag in
Lori’s hand and the bag Bobby was stuffing full.  "The game's not
until one."

   Neither teen could think of anything to say.  It didn't matter.  Their
actions said it for them anyway.

   Claire blanched as she realized her children had been planning to run.
Her heart seized as she thought of what that would have been like.  They
had no idea what it took to stay alive...to stay healthy.  She was deeply
disappointed that they assumed she didn't love them, or wouldn't try to
understand...or was incapable of understanding.  It flitted through her
mind that she DIDN'T understand, but she still loved her children more than
anything else in the world.  The thought of losing them made her stomach
hurt.

   "Did you think if you ran away that all your problems would go away?"
she asked heavily.  "Are you really that stupid?" Claire pointed to a
chair. "Sit down."

   Chuck exited the bathroom and came up behind Claire.  He touched her
elbow, but she jerked away from him.

   "Chuck, would you mind if I had a few minutes alone with my children?"

   "Sure, Claire.  I'll go make sure everybody's up and ready for
breakfast," he said.

   Lori had still not moved.  Her hand was still on the doorknob when Chuck
got there.  She looked at him, fear in her eyes.  He winked and then
grabbed her shoulders, moving her to the chair Claire had pointed to.  A
little pressure on her shoulders made her sit.  He opened the door and
said, "I'll be back in fifteen minutes to take you to breakfast."

   Claire wanted to sit down, but knew she needed the tactical advantage of
being higher than the children.  Skills she had learned in the business
world were habit now and she didn't even think about them.  "Sit down,
Bobby," she said.

   "Mom…" he started, but she held up her hand.

   "Don't make me yell at you, Bobby.  I don't want to yell.  Just sit down
and let's talk about this."

   Bobby turned and sat on the coffee table his bag was laying on.  No one
said anything for a few seconds.  Claire tried to think of what she wanted
to talk about, but her emotions were still roiling from the shower.

   "How long has this been going on?" she asked.

   At least the children didn't try to lie about it.  Lori said, "Three
months."

   Claire was lost.  How did you talk to your children about something like
this?  "I don't understand," she said.  "I want to understand, but I don't
know how to do that."

   Lori spoke again.  "Mom, I love Bobby."

   "Of course you do, he's your brother," said Claire.

   "No, I mean I LOVE him , Mom," said Lori.  "I don't want to be with
other boys.  I don't want to have a boyfriend.  I LOVE him, Mom."

   Claire's head swiveled to Bobby, who was sitting up straight.

   "I feel the same way," he said.

   Claire tried to lighten the mood.  "Well, I'm happy that you don't want
a boyfriend too, at least."

   Neither teen smiled.

   "Sorry," said Claire.  "I'm a little nervous.  In the last twelve hours
a lot has changed for me and I'm not at all used to those changes." She
shook her head.  "But one thing needs to be clearly understood.  We are a
family.  And if we have some problems, then we'll work on them as a family.
Running away won't do anybody any good and it would have just killed me if
something would have happened to you two.  So the first thing you have to
do is promise me you won't run away."

   Both Bobby and Lori had expected shouting...maybe threats.  Bobby had
even felt there was a chance that their mother would throw them out.  But
her behavior, if not a polar opposite, wasn't anywhere near what they had
expected.  And exacting that promise from them actually made them feel
better about things.  With that off the table, they didn't have to think
about it and all it would entail.

   Bobby looked at Lori.  There was yearning in her eyes.  She nodded.

   "OK, we promise," said Bobby for them both.

   Claire felt relief herself.  "Now, the second thing I want you to
understand is that you're my babies and I love you." She saw the reaction
in the faces of her children.  "Come on...you know what I mean.  I know
you're not babies, but you used to be, and every mother thinks like that.
The important thing is that I love you both.  I don't understand what
you've done, but that doesn't matter.  I love you."

   One of the things Claire had learned about personnel problems was that,
during a counseling session, it was usually valuable to find out what
questions the employee being evaluated had.  Sometimes they brought things
up themselves that the boss wanted to talk about anyway.

   "What questions do you two have about all this?" she asked.  As she
thought about that she decided that had been a stupid thing to say.

   "Are you going to make us stop?" asked Lori.

   Maybe it wasn't so stupid after all.

   "I don't know," said Claire.  "I have to think about that."

   Both youths were shaken by her answer.  They had expected a very quick
effort by their mother to forbid them to do anything ever again and both
were prepared to fight for their love.  Now, though, her answer didn't
require a fight and their thoughts fragmented as they tried to adjust.

   Claire thought about what Chuck had said.  "You probably wouldn't stop
if I told you to," she said.  "And I can't make you fall out of love." She
frowned.  "But what you're doing is dangerous and you need to understand
that.  It's dangerous because Lori could get pregnant.  It's dangerous
because society says it's taboo, and if anyone found out there would be a
scandal.  Chuck already knows, but I don't think he'll make a fuss about
it. That's not true of others, though."

   "Coach knows?" Lori's voice rose to a soprano whine.

   "You two made enough noise last night that I wouldn't be surprised if
the people in the room next door know about it," sighed Claire.  Bobby
rocked backwards and Claire held up her hand.  "It wasn't that bad.  I was
exaggerating, but you were a lot louder than you thought you were.  Both
nights."

   Lori blushed.  "You heard us...both nights?"

   "It's not all that dark in the room, dear.  I saw you too."

   "When you got up and went to the bathroom?" asked Lori.

   Claire nodded.

   Lori turned to her brother and hissed, "I TOLD you so, Bobby.  You
should have LISTENED to me."

   "Stop!" said Claire firmly.  "Fighting between yourselves won't solve
anything either." She asked something she'd been curious about, but didn't
want to ask sooner.  "How did this happen?" she asked.  "I mean how did it
get started?"

   Lori looked at Bobby, but he shrugged, as if to say "Don't ask me." She
glared at her brother when it became obvious she would have to answer that
question.

   "Well, we were cooking one day.  We were making pies and cookies and
cake."

   Claire remembered that day.  She'd come home to find the kitchen
completely trashed, a whole pan of cookies burnt to a crisp, and her
children giddy with laughter.  They'd been so happy she couldn't be angry
with them for failing to clean up.  And, they had worked willingly and
happily together to straighten things out.  She nodded so that Lori would
go on.

   "And we started teasing each other," said Lori.  She darted a look at
Bobby.  "And the teasing got kind of excited and we got kind of excited and
things got kind of complicated and it just happened."

   Lori looked at her mother to see if such a vague description was going
to fly.  Claire's eyes were unfocused.  She was thinking about how well
that description could be used for what had just happened in the bathroom.
Then she thought about what had happened in the bathroom and how wild and
spontaneous it had been.

   Bobby spoke.  "We didn't actually intend for anything to happen.  But I
got so excited I couldn't control myself and Lori couldn't make me stop."
He had decided to take the blame.  He'd always felt that he should be
blamed for the initial incident.  Her screams as her hymen was torn and her
pussy cruelly stretched were permanently etched in his memory, regardless
of how happy she was to welcome him between her legs now.

   Lori waved a hand dismissively.  "Don't pay any attention to him, Mom.
He thinks he raped me, but it was actually the other way around.  Once I
had him in my hand I wouldn't let him leave without feeling it inside me."
Her relief at finally being able to talk about her relationship with her
brother was so strong that it freed her tongue a little too much.

   Claire was, in fact, a little shocked that Lori could talk about that so
lightly.  It made her a little suspicious.  "So, are you two sexually
active with anyone other than each other?"

   Both children shook their heads immediately, and together.  Their
response was too immediate to be false...unless they had practiced it.

   Claire looked at Bobby.  "And what have you done to protect her, Bobby?"


   He looked uncomfortable.  "Well, we use condoms most of the time." Lori
snorted.  He glared at her.  "OK, sometimes."

   Claire finally decided she could sit down.  She chose the bed.  It still
gave her a tiny height advantage.

   "I have three friends at work who use condoms for birth control," she
said.  "They're all pregnant."

   Both teen's heads jerked towards each other at that comment.

   "Yeah, condoms are a lousy way to prevent pregnancies.  They break, and
leak, and have pinholes in them," said Claire, like it was a discussion
about how to chop carrots.

   "I didn't know that," said Bobby.

   "Which is why you probably shouldn't be having sex.  You need to learn
about adult things before you do adult things," said Claire.

   "We're not going to stop, Mom," Lori said firmly.  Chuck had been right.


   "Even if continuing gets you pregnant?" asked Claire.

   "I love Bobby," Lori said stubbornly.  "And if I get pregnant, I'll love
our baby too."

   "Well, now THERE'S a plan for the future," snorted Claire.  "Look, kids,
I love you both, and I'm NOT sorry I had you, but I probably had you too
soon.  And when your father left, I was too young to get a good job and we
had to really struggle for a long time.  I don't want you to have to go
through that."

   Lori looked at her mother thoughtfully.  "Mom, if I got
pregnant—from anybody—would you make me move out?"

   Claire snorted again.  "Of course not.  That's the last thing I'd want
you to do.  I just told you it's hard to raise a baby.  If you were
married, then yes, you'd have to go live with your husband.  But you can't
marry Bobby.  Nobody's going to allow that."

   The door opened and Chuck walked in.  "Time's up," he announced. 
"Ahhhh, I see there aren't any bloody corpses lying about, so I have to
assume that things have been civilized.  That's good, because I'm hungry
and if there had been murder and mayhem the police would come and we'd have
to all answer questions and I'd just starve to death." His attempt at a
joke had been so long that he ended up panting a little.  "Anybody hungry?"


   While he didn't get the chuckles he hoped for, Chuck's intrusion wasn't
a problem either.  Everyone had had their say…to a point.  All three
Richardsons stood up and they went to breakfast

   =========================

   The day was spent chasing around a perplexing mix of emotions.  Nothing
had really been "decided." Lori and Bobby still didn't know what their
mother was going to do about...them.  And "them" was something that was so
important to both of them that it affected their behavior.  Lori didn't
have quite the verve that she usually displayed when she cheered on the
team.  Bobby fumbled the ball twice and at halftime the team was behind by
fourteen points.

   Claire, watching the game, had a hard time paying attention to what was
going on.  Every time she looked at her son or daughter, all she could
conjure up in her mind's eye was Bobby hunched over Lori, her legs spread
in welcome, as he grunted in that special sexy way that meant he was
filling her with his spunk.  That, added on top of her own emotional
turmoil—whenever she looked at Chuck her stomach did
flip-flops—began to rob her of the joy she usually experienced when
she saw her children doing what they loved to do.

   In short, her life...and the lives of her children...had been knocked
topsy-turvy.

   As sometimes happens to adults in that situation, usually when they
aren't at all ready for it, her mind began to question some things she
thought WERE "decided." She had pretty well become resigned to the fact
that there was no man in her life.  In fact, she realized, she had
unconsciously kept men at bay, feeling that she didn't need a man in her
life any more.  Now, after what had happened in the shower, and the feeling
in her stomach when she looked at Chuck, Claire's decision that men weren't
worth the effort it took to have a serious relationship had taken a few
hits.  Then there was the whole incest thing with her kids.  Incest was
wrong.  Everybody said so.  It ruined the families that were involved in
it...didn't it?

   But her children were obviously happy, and normal in every other way she
could think of.  They got good grades, were reasonably popular, and seemed
well adjusted when compared to other brothers and sisters she saw together.
Nothing had happened in the three months they claimed to have been having
this relationship that made anything look different at all to Claire.  Was
it actually possible for a brother and sister to love each other...that
way...and for it to actually work out well?

   So many of Claire's assumptions about her life were in question that she
didn't even know HOW to think about them, much less WHAT to think about
them.

   Chuck nudged Claire and her head jerked as she realized she had been
staring at the stats sheet in her lap for quite a while.

   "Claire, I need you to pay attention," said Chuck gruffly.  It was his
"coach" voice.  "I think I might be in love with you, but I need you to pay
attention to the game," he said.

   Claire's head jerked again in surprise.  That was all she needed.  He
might be in LOVE with her?!

   She ground her teeth in frustration, and blushed, but nodded tersely. 
"OK," she said.

   Claire had the capacity to be single minded and she called on that
talent now.  Statistics were kept in two identical books.  Volunteer
students maintained them, but one of the volunteers had been unable to
attend the contest, so Claire had offered to do that.  She and the boy who
had the other book were sitting side by side, and she leaned over to talk
to him, catching up her sheet.  Then she paid strict attention to the game,
shoving her other thoughts away.

   It was then that she was able to notice that Bobby wasn't playing well.
She began watching him more closely and saw the frequent looks he shot to
the sidelines...not at the coach...but at his sister...and at his mother.
Knowing how roiled her own emotions were, she had no trouble identifying
what was on Bobby's mind.

   During a time out, when he ran over to huddle with the coaches, she
pulled at his shoulder pads.

   "You keep your mind on the game," she barked.

   "I can't," he said.

   "Bobby, honey," she said, her voice pleading.  "We'll get through
this...difficulty.  We'll work on it as a family.  But if you can't
discipline yourself when things get difficult, how can we ever make this
all work out?  I love you.  I'm not going to stop loving you.  Lori
obviously loves you too.  But...that...can't be the only thing in your
life, Bobby.  You have other responsibilities."

   "All I can think about is where I'll be sleeping tonight," Bobby said
miserably.

   Claire thought.  Her questions about whether society was right or not
boiled over in her mind.  Who were strangers to tell her…and her
wonderful children...what was right and wrong for them?

   She made a decision she couldn't believe she was making.  "Well, if you
don't start paying attention to the game I may make you sleep with ME
tonight.  There are only two beds in the room.  If you want to sleep in
Lori's bed tonight you'd better get back in there and kick some ass!"

   Unbeknownst to Claire, her "threat" to make her son sleep with her
played to the overwhelming emotions that were surging through his body. 
Unbeknownst to Claire, she had suggested what evolution had primed men to
believe: If you wanted the best women...the most fertile women...the

   most desirable women...you had to be the alpha male in the group.

   And, as far as Bobby was concerned, his mother and sister WERE the most
desirable women in the group.  The surge of adrenaline and testosterone in
his system caused his muscles to swell and his mind to sharpen.  He was
primed for combat.

   And it made a difference.  The fourteen point advantage the other team
was enjoying melted away in a mere three series.  Claire felt a surge of
excitement as she saw his play improve dramatically.  At one point, when
the defense was on the field, Claire saw Bobby run over to his sister and
hold an animated discussion with her.  Lori glanced at her mother and then
back at Bobby and her level of participation in the game increased as well.


   In the end, the team won by six points.

   After the game the atmosphere was electric with excitement.  They had
advanced to the semifinals and, if things went well, were only two games
away from claiming the trophy.  All the kids were giddy, talking too
loudly, full of energy, even though they'd just played a hard game.

   Chuck called them all together.  "OK," he started.  "I know you all are
excited, but this is the time discipline is needed." Claire saw Bobby look
at her and grin.  Chuck went on, his hands out, facing the group.  "So even
though right now you don't feel tired, and you want to party, you really
need to think about getting some rest.  We have a big game tomorrow and you
need to be fresh and able to concentrate.  We had a pretty miserable first
half today.  Let's not have that problem tomorrow.  So after supper, get to
your rooms and keep the socializing to a minimum.  Watch TV or something
and try to get some extra sleep."

   There were groans of disappointment from both girls and boys.  The boys
had, at some level, done what Bobby had done—fight for their right to
claim the woman of their choice.  And the girls had watched, their own
hormone levels elevating as they appreciated the strength and vitality of
the potential mates their unconscious minds saw cavorting on the field.

   Both Claire and Chuck recognized the sexual tension in the kids.  It was
easy.  They felt the same tension themselves.  At supper they ate alone
together at a small table, letting the kids mingle and drift from table to
table.  Claire noticed that Bobby and Lori started at different tables, but
ended up at the same one.

   Chuck saw her looking at them.  "So, have you decided what to do about
them?" he asked.

   She turned her gaze on him and felt her pussy tense up.  "I haven't even
decided what to do about YOU." She smiled a wan, tired smile.

   "That's easy," he said confidently.  "Just love me."

   "I've only known you for a week," she said.  The memory of their passion
in the shower flooded through her and she flushed, heat suffusing her face.
"You must think I'm a slut."

   He put his spork down on the table as if it were fine silver, and then
wiped the corner of his mouth with a paper napkin.

   "Slut isn't a word I'd use with you," he said, his voice level.  "I have
standards.  I wasn't actively looking for a woman to complicate my life,"
he said.  "But if I had been, it certainly wouldn't have been a slut." He
looked at her for a long, agonizingly silent moment.  "I've been with two
women in my life," he continued.  "The first was a girl in high school.  I
don't just jump in bed with any woman I happen to share a motel room with."


   "I don't understand you at all," said Claire, full of self doubt
suddenly.i "I'm divorced with two teenage children.  I'm older than you. 
You're gorgeous, and unattached…you could have any woman you want!"

   "Let me see," he said, leaning back in his chair.  "What do I look for
in a woman?  Gosh...I don't really know," he said with a hint of sarcasm in
his voice.  "Well, I suppose I demand that she be beautiful.  And
intelligent would be nice.  And, oh yes, she has to be susceptible to my
charming approach...you know...lure her into a motel room with her two kids
watching and then jump her bones while she's not looking." He smiled
tightly.  "You know, just the average woman.  I wonder if I'll ever find
her."

   "Joking about this won't help," said Claire, her appetite suddenly gone.


   "Claire," he said, and her stomach did flip flops at the way he said it.
"What happened between us was fast, and furious, and unexpected for both of
us.  But I can't question how I feel about you.  I know you're a careful
woman, who has her own set of plans and dreams, and that I might not fit
into those plans and dreams.  But I also know plans and dreams have a way
of changing.  I'd like you to give me a chance.  I think you'd really like
me when you get to know me.  I don't care about any age difference.  I just
care about the way I feel about you."

   Claire felt her emotions roil again.  "You probably just want to get in
my pants again, you sliver tongued...man."

   "Desperately," he agreed.  "Immediately if possible.  I mean not here,
in the restaurant...but maybe outside?  In the bus?  I can command the kids
not to watch."

   "There you go joking again," she complained.

   "Who says I'm joking?  I can't deny how I feel about you.  What happened
in the bathroom this morning was amazing.  And it's even more amazing
because I LIKE you too!"

   Out of the corner of her eye Claire saw movement.  She looked up to see
Bobby approaching their table.

   "Mom?" he said.  "About what you said this afternoon.  Are you really
going to make me sleep in your bed tonight?” He didn't actually sound
like he was upset at the idea.

   Chuck's eyebrows rose.  He was a man, and he knew what lust looked like
in another man.  Did Bobby lust after his mother too?!

   Claire looked at Chuck helplessly.  "I threatened to make him sleep with
me if he didn't concentrate on the game," she explained.

   "And you thought that was a threat?  I'm amazed he didn't fumble the
ball twice on purpose!" He looked at Bobby with a calculating eye.  "Well,
too bad, bucko," he said to Bobby.  "You DID concentrate on the game, so
you're stuck with your sister.” He looked startled that he'd said it
out loud and turned red.  "I mean...um...that's between you and your
mother. Oh man, I'm going to go get something to drink.  I think I just put
my foot in my mouth."

   Claire couldn't get her mind wrapped around the concept that her
"threat" might have been perceived by Bobby the same way it might have been
perceived by Chuck.  She looked at her son, who was blushing, as if what
Chuck had suggested was...true.  To her, her threat had been to deny him a
place next to Lori.  But Chuck was suggesting that Bobby might have
performed well BECAUSE the idea of sleeping with his mother was...exciting!
With everything that had happened she didn't know what to think or how to
feel about it all.  She was astonished that the mere thought of "sleeping"
with her son didn't disgust her at all.  Her mind whirled with doubts and
uncertainties.

   "I think we need to finish our talk," she said, trying to dismiss the
idea that her son might feel about her the same way he felt about his
sister.  "Why don't you go get Lori and let's go back to the room.  Chuck
can take care of the rest of them for a while."

   Chapter Six



   Mother and children walked, as there was no other way for them to get
back to the motel.  It was a strained, silent walk at first.  Bobby had
told Lori what their mother had said.  And Lori had some idea of how Bobby
might have heard that comment.  She had conflicting feelings about that
too. She thought of Bobby as "hers," even though she was his sister.  But
she knew how Bobby felt about his mother, even if his mother didn't know
that.

   Claire tried to get things started.  "Look, I know what I'm SUPPOSED to
think about you two doing what you do together."

   She walked on a few steps.

   "And I know that you two love each other."

   She didn't know how to express her feelings.

   "Part of me wants to demand that you stop...but another part of me wants
to celebrate your love.  And now Chuck suggests that you want to...  with
me..." She looked at Bobby, who was walking head down.  "I don’t know
what to do," she said in a defeated voice.

   "I told you it was obvious," growled Lori to her brother.  "Did you
really think nobody would notice how you look at her?  How you look
at...us?"

   Bobby looked distinctly uncomfortable.  Lori, having a streak of typical
teenager in her, decided to just call things as she saw them.

   "Bobby has always had a kind of sexual attraction to you, Mom.  And that
day when we were teasing each other, like I told you before, I sort of
transferred that to me...accidentally.  But then it was so exciting and I
wanted to know what it felt like and we just sort of ended up doing it. 
But he loves us both, Mom." She looked at her mother to see what the
reaction was.

   Claire's heart had seized when Lori said Bobby was attracted to her
sexually.  She'd heard the rest, but hadn't been able to process it.

   "That's just CRAZY!" said Claire, but she saw Bobby flinch.  "Is that
TRUE, Bobby?" she asked.

   Bobby too had felt a moment of panic when his sister admitted his secret
lust for his mother.  But her plaintive question didn't sound like she was
disgusted—only like she was seeking independent confirmation of a
fact she'd heard but wasn't sure was, in fact, a fact.

   Bobby was still on a high from winning the game.  That, combined with
his feelings for his mother and his sister, and the fact that he hadn't
been thrown in the street by Claire, had him on a razor's edge of self
control.  He stopped and faced his mother.

   "OK, yes, I've had dreams about you.  It's always been that way.  I
don't understand it, but it's true.  And I never lusted after Lori or
anything until that day when all of a sudden I couldn't control myself
around her.  I know I'm not supposed to feel that way about either of you,
but I DO!"

   It was obvious he was frustrated.

   "And I don't want to change it.  Even though I know I should." His voice
was anguished.

   "But why would you want ME?" said Claire, dazed.  "I'm your MOTHER!"

   "I know that," said Bobby, sounding even more frustrated.  "I can't help
it.  You're beautiful and I love you.  I KNOW that's how I feel.  I can't
just STOP loving you, even if it's in ways I'm not SUPPOSED to love you."

   Claire replayed what she'd said in her head during the game.

   "So when I said I'd make you sleep with...me..."

   "I got crazy," finished Bobby.  "The thought of that just made me crazy.
I love Lori and we've even talked about being together for life, but I
can't help but love you too."

   "And that made me jealous," said Lori suddenly.  "But I know we're not
supposed to do things together too, and you're my mother and I love you
too, so I shouldn't be jealous.  But I am.  I don't know what to think
EITHER!" she ended, tears gathering in her eyes.

   The whole thing was ludicrous, Claire thought.  Her whole world was
suddenly just flat crazy.  She had strong feelings for a man she'd only
known for a week.  She'd made wild, passionate love to that man, in
violation of every rule she had for herself concerning sex.  Her children
had been committing incest for months and demanded to be allowed to
continue.  And NOW, she found out that her son wanted to commit incest with
HER too!  It was just too much to deal with.

   Out of pure self defense, so she didn't just go completely mad, she
tried to make some decisions.  If she could just make some decisions maybe
all this would become manageable.

   "I don't think you should sleep with me tonight," she said to Bobby.  It
didn't come out like the obvious statement it should have been.

   But Bobby nodded.  He actually looked relieved.  "Thanks," he said,
confirming the look on his face.  "I don't know what I would have done."

   "I do," said Lori a little grumpily.

   Both mother and brother stared at her.

   "Well, I know what he's like!  He's hard to resist when he's right there
with you!"

   Claire thought about how much "resistance" she'd put up with Chuck in
the bathroom.

   "OK, we'll deal with that problem later," she said.  "For now, I'm going
to have to let you two...” She couldn't say it out loud.  She tried
to exert some kind of parental control.  "But we HAVE to get you on the
pill, Lori."

   Claire's doubts about what she'd just said were bombarded by the intense
joy that suddenly bloomed on Lori's face.  She flung herself at her mother
in a tight embrace.  "OH THANK YOU, MOMMY!" she squealed.  "You don't KNOW
how happy that makes me!"

   Lori, having some kind of feminine instinct that caused her to push her
advantage at the moment, went on.

   "And you're going to keep doing it with Coach!" she demanded.  "You've
needed a man in your life for a long time, Mom, and Coach is wonderful!"

   Claire wasn't too impressed with her daughter's characterization of the
relationship Claire had with Chuck as "doing it," but she couldn't bring
herself to complain out loud.

   Then again, she had a sudden urge to "do it" right then and there.  Her
emotions, already sustained at peak levels for what seemed like days, had
been assaulted further by her son's confession that HE wanted to "do it"
with her.  Rather than contemplate how she felt about THAT, she centered
her physical attraction on a man that the world might approve of.

   "OK," she heard herself say, not believing she was saying it to her own
children.

   In all, the rest of the walk was strange too, though not quite as
strange as the first part.  Decisions had been made, but they were strange
decisions, and all three of them knew it.  Lori tried to keep the
conversation going, making attempts to talk about the game, and the fact
that she was still hungry, and even bringing up Claire's desire to
redecorate the kitchen back home.

   But each topic was strangled by the fact that none of them could think
about much except what might...or would...happen in the motel room that
night.

   When they got to the room things didn't really improve that much.  Bobby
turned on the TV in an attempt to distract himself, and suggested that
maybe they could watch a pay-per-view movie that night.  When the menu came
up, the first thing on it was a movie called "Brother's Secret Desire." The
teaser suggested that "Brother" would enter into a relationship with all
the women in his family.  It was rated triple X.

   More than one person in the room groaned.

   When Chuck opened the door and stepped in, he could feel the tense mood.
"Well, do I still have a girlfriend and a star player?" he asked jokingly.

   Lori, who had been worrying that her mother might reverse her decisions,
tried to add to the joke.  "Well, you won't be sleeping with me, Coach!  At
least not tonight."

   Her joke fell flat as Bobby and Claire both glared at her.

   "Look, I don't want to cause any tension," said Chuck.  “If I need
to sleep on the bus to make things more comfortable I will."

   "NO!" said Claire, before she could even think about it.  All three of
the others in the room stared at her.  Claire made another decision...for
the sake of making a decision.

   "The sleeping arrangements will not change.  Chuck and I are adults. 
You two are ACTING like adults, so let's just all be adults about this."

   Chuck tried once more.  "When it comes to being adult...I'm your boy."
He grinned.

   That time it worked.  Lori giggled and Bobby smiled.  Claire, still
consumed with physical feelings, simply got up, went to Chuck, took him in
her arms, and kissed him firmly.

   "You'd better not ACT like a boy tonight," she said.  She felt a sudden
release of tension in her own body as she accepted her sexual feelings and
realized that a large part of that release was due to the fact that she
could admit her feelings in front of her children.

   Suddenly, Claire felt like she could celebrate what she'd stumbled into,
even if it was strange and taboo, at least in part.

   She turned to her son and daughter.  "Wouldn't you two like to go visit
some friends or something?" she asked.

   To her surprise, Lori stood up.  "No," she said.  "I think I want to do
the same thing YOU want to do right now." She bent over and removed her
saddle oxfords, and then her socks.  Then she stood up and gripped the hem
of her cheerleader's sweater, in preparation for pulling it over her head.

   "And, seeing as how we're almost all family here, I'm not going to be
shy about it!" said the cheerleader.

   Ten seconds later she was standing, dressed only in her sports bra and
skirt.

   Lori looked at her mother.  "Mom, if you don't want Coach looking at me,
you'd better do something to distract him."

   Chuck was, indeed, looking at one of his cheerleaders.  He had the same
feelings toward his cheerleaders that any man would...that he
suppressed...for his own good and theirs.  He turned to Claire.

   "Please distract me," he said, making sure Lori was behind him.

   Claire stared at him in wonder.  Could he really be comfortable with
what was about to happen?  "Are you sure?" she asked.

   The look in his eyes convinced her.  "We have a bed check to make in
about an hour.  Let's start with the beds in this room."

   Maybe it was the emotional level of the people in that room.  Maybe it
was the sudden freedom to do what they all wanted to do.  For whatever
reason, the awkwardness that SHOULD have made itself felt...didn't.

   Lori unashamedly got naked, ignoring her mother and Coach.

   Claire, eager to do something...anything...to distract her mind from
what was happening, simply began to disrobe, ignoring her children and
concentrating on the look in Chuck's eyes as he watched her.

   Bobby, unable to discipline his eyes, watched as both his mother and
sister got naked.  By the time he got his pants off his cock was iron hard
and dripping.

   Chuck couldn't help but look in the mirror, peeking at Lori as her young
body came into view.  That, and the knowledge of what was about to happen,
made him harder than he'd ever been in his life and his prick bounced in
anticipation as he got naked too.

   The level of passion in the room was so high that no foreplay was
necessary.  Both women were ready—physically, emotionally—in
all ways, they wanted to be bred.  Both men were willing and capable of
doing the breeding, and it took place quickly.

   Lori, knowing her brother better than Claire knew Chuck, pushed him down
so she could control penetration and speed.

   Claire wanted Chuck's muscled body over hers, dominating her...TAKING
her, so that she could pretend, at some level, that it was HIS idea rather
than hers.  She was used to being in charge.  Right now she wanted to
be...taken.

   There was a sigh of happiness from Lori and a groan of satisfaction from
Bobby as Lori positioned his prick and sank down on it, driving it to her
cervix.

   Chuck teased Claire by putting the tip of his prick in her gaping, wet
slot and then suckling her nipples while he prodded her pussy ever so
gently.  Claire was impatient, though, and her hands fastened on his hips
and pulled with force that was surprising.

   "You bastard," she moaned.  "Don't do this to me."

   "Don't do what, Claire?" asked Chuck.

   His sudden removal of his lips to talk was agonizing to Claire's
tortured and sensitive nipples.

   "FUCK me, you bastard," she groaned.

   "Don't fuck you, Claire?" he teased.

   "Don't make me beg in front of my children," gasped Claire.

   "Oh," he said, returning to her nipples.

   Then he powered his cock to HER cervix, in one rushing lunge that took
her breath away.  By the time she got enough air in her lungs to make
noises, he had already withdrawn and pummeled her sopping pussy three
times.

   Claire shook with the violence of Chuck's thrusts.  As firm as they
were, her breasts jiggled and flopped, and her legs scissored further open
as she made nonsense sounds deep in her throat.

   Lori, sitting on her brothe's stiff prick, turned her head to watch as
her mother was ravaged.  Seeing Coach Bondurant's muscled body covering her
mother's, his thick cock slicing in and out of her mother's pussy, was so
shocking and erotic that she had an orgasm.  Her pussy rippled and
fluttered as she ground it down on her own stiff thick prick.

   Bobby, over-stimulated by the events of the day, turned his head too,
and saw Coach doing what he'd dreamed of doing for years.  He promptly
blasted his sister's pussy full of warm sticky spunk.  Her pussy muscles
suddenly started milking him, and he lunged upward as his balls emptied
into his sister's belly.

   Claire was having her own orgasm, also a product of having been horny
all day, and suddenly being able to give in to her lust.  She hoped, in the
middle of that orgasm, that Chuck would go on for hours.

   Chuck, of all of them, was possibly the only one in control of his body.
The feel of Claire's clasping pussy around his seldom-used tool was so
wonderful that he wanted it to last.  When she had what was obviously an
orgasm under him, he took the time to slide in and rub her clit with the
base of his cock, loving the feel of her body welcoming him inside it. 
Then he set about making that happen again.

   Lori felt her brother's seed splashing into her pussy.  She was, at
once, happy to feel it, and a little sad because she knew he'd get soft and
she wasn't ready for him to get soft yet.  She sat and rocked, keeping his
softening cock firmly in her slot.  From experience she knew that he would
recover in a few minutes.  She could wait.  While she waited she watched as
Coach did amazing things to her mother.

   He went on and on, and Lori could recognize that her mother was having
multiple orgasms as her head flailed, her hair flying, and her fists
gripped the bed covers that hadn't even been pulled back in their haste to
make their sexual joining.  Lori couldn't help but wonder what it would
feel like...to be under that muscled body, to be stroked for that long.

   For the first time in her life Lori was interested in a cock other than
her brother's.

   Bobby was watching too, and was feeling decidedly inadequate.  He had
always been able to make his sister squeal with excitement when they made
love, but watching his mother being rodded and reamed made him realize that
there was a level of control far beyond what he'd been able to develop.  He
imagined being able to fuck his mother that long...what it would feel like
to lie on her full soft breasts as he pounded her like Coach was pounding
her.  He felt his prick respond to that desire.

   He reached up and took control away from Lori by pulling her to him and
rolling to pin her.

   Lori was caught unawares because she was staring in fascination at the
thick slick rod that was pistoning in and out of her mother.  She'd been
unconsciously rubbing her clitty against her brother's pubic bone and was
on the edge of being able to work into an orgasm.  Suddenly she was falling
and she squawked.

   "Bobby!" she yipped, feeling his cock slip out of her.  Then she found
herself under him as he loomed over her, and his cock, stiff again, was
nudging into her pussy.  He kissed her hungrily and sucked her nipples,
like he had seen his mother's nipples get sucked a few minutes ago.

   And then he pounded Lori into submission, bouncing her all over the bed,
making her jiggling body slide upwards until her head hit the wall and
began bouncing off of it.  She complained and he reared backwards, grabbing
her hips and pulling her roughly down the bed as he kneed himself
backwards. Then he fell on her and began sliding his cock in and out of her
in long strokes to match those of the coach.  He gave an extra firm push
when he bottomed out each time, grinding against Lori's clit and digging
deep into the mouth of her womb.  She began making appreciative sounds and
thrusting back up at him, almost as violently as he was shoving into her.

   "OOOommmmmmm I'm cumming, Bobby," she whined.  “Cummming soooo
goood."

   "You should have made me wear a rubber, Lori," he whispered in her ear.
"I'm gonna shoot again...gonna knock you up for sure...gonna make a BABY!"
he groaned as he thrust into her one last time and his dick pumped his seed
into her womb.

   Feeling that, and hearing that, made Lori squirm as she wriggled her
pussy up at him to get every drop.  She didn't want to BE pregnant, but the
thought that he might be putting a baby in her belly was SO hot that she
loved the idea of the danger involved.

   In the next bed Claire had finally had enough orgasms that she'd just
gone limp.  Her body shook as Chuck knifed into her and all she could do
was raise her head occasionally to make her unbelieving eyes see that his
cock was STILL hard and STILL stroking her pussy, better than she'd ever
had it stroked in her life.  She knew that she had to have this again and
again.  All her reservations about letting him do this were gone.  She had
never felt like this.

   He leaned down and kissed her hard.  Then, his lips inches from hers, he
spoke in a voice loud enough that everybody in the room could hear.

   "This morning...in the shower," he panted.  "I never got the chance...to
ask you...are you...on the pill?"

   Claire heard the question and all that it implied.

   "Nooooooooooo," she moaned.

   He panted on.  "You want me...to pull...  out?"

   Claire's mind whirled.  When WAS her last period?  She couldn't think.
She hadn't planned on this!  He'd take it out of her if she told him to. 
She was thrilled that he cared that much.

   But her pussy didn't want to be empty.

   What if she got pregnant?  What if this man...this wonderful man...was
in the process of creating life in her womb?  Her thoughts flashed to her
children...in bed next to her...moaning lustfully as they did exactly what
she was doing.  If Denny could create two such wonderful children...what
would Chuck's be like?

   "Noooooooooo," she rasped.

   "You know...what this...could mean?" he insisted, shoving in deep.

   "Yessssssssssss," she whined.  "Cum in meeeeee."

   He pulled back one more time and dug deep.  She felt his nectar rush
forth and saturate the end of her satisfied pussy.  She imagined that
thick, white, potent seed pouring into her womb...surrounding an egg...

   She hugged him to her fiercely, all her remaining energy going into that
embrace as he gave her what she now craved.

   Both couples cuddled and were very happy doing so when suddenly a loud
knock at the door shocked them all rigid.

   "Coach?" came a plaintive cry through the door.  "Are you in there?"

   Claire bolted from the bed, snatching up her clothing, which was lying
everywhere where it had been flipped, thrown or tossed.  She turned to Lori
who had also jumped up, her brother's sperm streaming from her pussy,
pushed out by abdominal muscles that had clenched violently as she got up.
Her clothes were almost in one pile and she grabbed them.  Both women
darted for the bathroom.

   Chuck calmly got up and pulled on the pants and shirt he'd been wearing
all day.  He nodded to Bobby and said, "Act asleep," softly.  Then he went
to the door.  Charlie Waters was outside, shifting from foot to foot when
Chuck opened the door.

   "What's the problem, Charlie?" he asked.

   Charlie tried to peer into the room.  "Are you alone, Coach?"

   "Bobby's trying to sleep.  What's the problem, Charlie?" he repeated. 
He stepped out and let the door close on his hand.

   "The problem is we have a chance to take the championship and a few
people are going to mess that up for us!" complained Charlie, who was a
skinny second string receiver.  He'd joined the squad at the insistence of
his father, who had played when he was in school.  Charlie wasn't cut out
for football, though, in his own mind.

   "What's going on?" asked Chuck.

   "You know the room Frank and them are in?" asked Charlie.  That room
contained four of his seniors, who had asked to room together, it being
their last year playing and all.  Chuck had suspected they might have
ulterior motives, but let it go.

   "Yes," said Chuck.

   "Well, Tiffany and Sharon and two other girls are in there with them,
and the door's closed, and they're making noises," said Charlie.  Tiffany
and Sharon were two of the senior cheerleaders.  Charlie had had fantasies
about them for over a year.  The thought of what might be going on in the
room overcame his reluctance to be labeled a snitch.

   "What kind of noises?" asked Chuck.

   "The kind of noises..." started off Charlie.  He had been about to say,
"like there's SEX going on!" but decided to say, "necking noises." It
sounded ridiculous, but Chuck didn't laugh.

   "You might get a chance to play yet, Charlie," said Chuck.  Two of his
star receivers were in that room.

   Charlie gulped.  His motivation had been to break up the soiling of his
fantasies—NOT to actually get on the field.

   "I'll take care of it, Charlie," said Chuck, opening the door to go put
on his shoes.

   Charlie, realizing that what he'd just done might end up with him making
a fool of himself on the field in front of the whole school, suddenly
decided that the kids in that room needed to be warned.  He took off
running like the receiver he was.

   Claire had the bathroom door open slightly and was peering out through
it as Lori pulled her cheerleading outfit back on.

   "Mom," she dragged it out, complaining.  "Bobby's stuff is going to soak
into my uniform!"

   Claire looked over her shoulder at her grown up...adolescent daughter.
"That's the price you pay when you decide to play," she said tersely.  She
suddenly thought about her own womb and what might be happening in it right
now.  She was surprised how little she cared at the moment.  That got her
thinking about her last period.  When she worked it out in her mind she
took a deep breath.  There probably couldn't have been a worse time for her
to get her pussy filled with dangerous sperm than the last two days.  She
saw Chuck come back in the room and close the door.  She went out into the
room.

   Chuck looked at her and sighed.  She had that tousle headed, slightly
flushed look of a well-fucked woman.  He felt not a little pride, and a
desire to continue where they'd left off, but pushed that down.

   "Charlie Waters says there's a sex party going on in one of the rooms,"
he said.

   Claire felt panic.  "Which room?" she gasped.

   "Not this one," he smiled.  "We need to go down there.  If you take a
minute or two to put on your shoes it should be all over by the time we get
there.  I told Charlie he might have to play.  You should have seen the
panic on his face."

   Claire looked at him with an arched eyebrow.

   He smiled sheepishly.  "Well, would YOU have wanted to get caught when
you were in high school?" He stood up.  "Besides, getting there too late
will still put a scare into them.  They'll know they were almost caught and
that will make the rest of the kids less likely to fool around, don't you
think?"

   In a strange way, Claire thought he made perfect sense.

   Chapter Seven

   Five minutes later Claire and Chuck were walking side by side.  Having
visited the manager, they were approaching room 203 with key in hand.  They
were about ten feet away when the door burst open.  Tiffany Jewell and
Ramona Hodgkins dashed out to come face to face with the coach and Claire.
Both were dressed in their cheerleading uniforms.  The hem of Ramona's
skirt was caught in the back where it had obviously been accidentally
tucked inside her panties.  There was something glistening running down
Tiffany's right inner thigh.

   "Stop right there," ordered Coach in his coach's voice.

   "We were just getting some towels," babbled Ramona.

   "Really?" asked Claire, feeling bad for just having done exactly what
these two girls had done and now having to catch them at it.  "Where are
they?"

   Both girls looked at their empty hands, like somebody had told them hair
would grow on their palms if they masturbated and they were checking to see
if it was true.

   "Wait right over there." Chuck pointed to the front window.

   The door had closed behind the girls with a sharp slam and Chuck keyed
it open, swinging it wide.  Claire followed him inside.

   Three of the boys were in bed, covers up to their chins.  Frank Zeliff
was sitting on a chair, trying to put shoes on.  He had lipstick all over
his face.

   Frank looked up, his eyes wide.  "Hey Coach," he said weakly.  "What's
up?"

   "What are you guys doing in here?" asked Chuck.

   Danny Pruett said, from bed.  "We're trying to sleep, Coach...like you
said."

   Chuck moved to the bed, reached down and whipped the covers off. 
Danny's limp prick lay in a spermy mess that soaked his pubes and balls. 
Claire stared before Danny covered his genitals with his hands.  He didn't
say anything.

   Chuck turned to the other bed, which had two boys in it.  They were
clutching the covers under their chins so tightly their knuckles were
white.

   "Do I have to show Mrs.  Richardson what you two look like too?" he
asked.

   "No Coach," they both intoned.  "You got us," said George Caddy.

   There was a noise from the bathroom.

   Coach looked and said, "I suppose the other two are in there?"

   He got four blank stares back.

   Chuck nodded to Claire and she went to the bathroom door, which was
locked.  She knocked and ordered, "Open up...Sex Police!" Then she giggled.
She turned around and wiped the smile off her face as Chuck shook his head
sadly.

   "Sorry," she mumbled.  She turned back to the door and pounded on it.

   It opened and two more cheerleaders came out.  They were fully dressed,
but in their hurry to get that way, each had grabbed some incorrect uniform
items.  One of them was a busty girl of about five feet ten, and the other
was lucky if she was five feet tall.  The big one had grabbed a sweater top
that, once she got on, was so tight she couldn't pull it off again.  Her
partner had been forced to wear the larger girl's sweater top and it almost
looked like a dress on her.  The tall one had a wad of tissue paper in her
hand.

   Claire held her hand out.  "May I see that please?"

   The girl's hand...and the tissue…vanished behind her back.

   There was a bra lying on the floor between one of the beds and a wall.
Claire pointed at it.

   "Whose is that?"

   The tall girl looked and then bent over automatically to pick up the
bra, and Claire darted her hand to snatch the tissue out of the hand that
was still behind her back.

   It was a spermy mess.  Claire held it up and nodded to Chuck.

   Chuck knew what he had to do.  He didn't feel good about it.  He didn't
feel guilty at all about what he and Claire had done.  They were adults. 
But he had sanctioned what Bobby and Lori had done, and now he was going to
have to punish these kids.  He tried to take a little comfort in the fact
that Lori and Bobby's parent had also sanctioned what had happened.  But if
left a bad taste in his mouth.

   "You four are benched," he pronounced.

   There were four groans of complaint.

   "Come on, Coach, we were just having a little fun," whined Frank.

   "Your fun doesn't appear to have involved any condoms, Frank," said
Chuck heavily.  What am I going to tell the parents if any of these girls
show up pregnant?"

   "They won't, Coach," said Danny.  "They all used suppositories."

   Well, a good spermicidal might help a little, but still, the rules had
been broken.  What was more important, at least publicly, was that the
eight had been caught.

   It turned out that Charlie HAD come knocking on the door, telling them
that Coach was coming.  But the boys hadn't believed it.  There had still
been over an hour before bed check was due.

   It was the girls who wanted to stop, but all four boys had been trying,
on a bet, to cum at the same time.  They had insisted that Charlie was just
jealous and that nothing would happen.

   By the time things had settled back down, Claire no longer felt guilty.
All four of the girls were simpering idiots.  Tiffany had convinced them
that the big suppositories would protect them from pregnancy, so they had
gone along with the crazy scheme.  Claire had been using the same kind of
birth control when she got pregnant with Lori.

   "You have to tell your parents what happened," she told the girls once
she had them huddled together outside the room.  "If you don't, we have to.
In fact, we have to anyway.  You can tell them yourselves, and when we
contact them they'll already know and tell us they know.  But, when we tell
them, we're going to tell them that you were told to inform them.  So you
may as well do it yourselves.  If you're going to try to act adult, you
also have to take responsibility for what you choose to do."

   None of the girls liked that idea, but they were left with little
choice. They left for their rooms, heads down, feet dragging.

   On the way back to the room Claire spoke.  "You know, if they can't do
it...we really shouldn't do it either."

   He looked at her.  "Ever again?"

   "No, silly." She blushed at the hurt in his voice.  It made her feel
good.  "Just while we're here.  I think my dating life is going to improve
when we get back home."

   "Yes it is.  OK, I'm with you," he said.

   When they got to the room the kids were dressed and watching TV.

   Claire explained what had happened and what decision had been made
because of what had happened.

   "That means you two, too," she said.

   Surprisingly, both teens just nodded their assent.  They knew what was
likely to happen without those four players and it sobered them.

   Chuck and Claire presided over a very quiet bed check that night.  The
news had spread.  The night passed uneventfully, though all of them had a
hard time getting to sleep and talked for several hours into the night in
the darkened room.

   The next day the four players suited up, but sat on the bench.  The four
cheerleaders were also benched, but they wore civilian clothing so they
wouldn't stand out in the crowd.

   The first half went as expected, and the team was twenty-one points
behind at halftime.  Parents who had come to see the game, driving for
hours, began to approach Chuck and demand to know why four of his best
players weren't in the game.  Two of those sets of parents were Frank's and
Danny's.

   It almost got ugly.  First Frank's father tried to play it all down, but
Chuck insisted that rules were rules.  Then Mr.  Zeliff demanded to know
why he wasn't called and notified when the...infraction...had been
discovered.  Chuck explained that the kids had been given the option of
telling their parents first.  The two men began to bluster, but their
wives, thinking no doubt about what the parents of the girls involved would
say when THEY found out what had happened, pulled their husbands away
forcefully.

   It should have been a slaughter.

   But Chuck found out that if you take four second and third stringers,
who were motivated by the fear of public humiliation, they played a lot
better than he thought they would.  The rest of the team knew their honor
was on the line too, and even though they started the game down and angry
that the coach wouldn't let their friends play, by halftime they knew
they'd have to deal with it or lose.

   Claire never found out what Chuck told them in the locker room.  She
heard that all four boys apologized for putting the game at risk and
demanded that their replacements be given every opportunity to succeed. 
And, in the second half, the team bounced back.  They were, for the most
part, a passing team, but they employed the run more than half the time in
the second half.  Charlie, sure that he'd be killed if he were tackled by
the opposing linemen, decided that dancing and twisting his way OUT of
those tackles was the way to go.  He had a talent for it too, that he'd
never known before.  The first time he scored a touchdown, it was on a
thirty-five yard run that caused him to have to leave the field after it
was over.  He had almost peed his pants and was so weak he just ran off the
field.  He regained a significant measure of aplomb when he was attacked by
elated teammates who pummeled him and shouted insanely.

   Another boy, a second string running back, was smaller than Danny had
probably ever been, and the holes the line opened for him seemed big enough
to drive a truck through.  He carried the ball twelve times and always got
at least eight yards on each carry.  On one carry he was finally brought
down at the one yard line.

   In the end, they lost, but it was only by two points.  Oddly, compared
to what they had thought would happen, the team was upbeat about it.  They
had discovered that they'd have a decent team the next year, and that
teamwork paid off.  It was a valuable lesson.

   Chuck took a lot of heat from school officials, though, instigated
primarily by Frank Zeliff's father, who demanded that Chuck be disciplined
for "losing control of the team" and for having "insufficient chaperones to
adequately supervise the students." He made his demand at a school board
meeting.  No one had mentioned in public why the four boys were benched. 
All Chuck had said to Mr.  Black, the principal, was that they broke
nonnegotiable rules.

   So, when put against the wall at the school board meeting, Chuck stood
up and said, "I made rules.  It doesn't matter what they were.  All that
matters is that they were broken and the kids knew what would happen if I
found out they were broken.  I stand by my decision."

   A school board member, a friend of Tom Zeliff, who had brought the
complaint, asked, "Mr.  Bondurant, what rule exactly was broken?"

   Tom Zeliff started waving, trying to get his friend to withdraw the
question, but the man didn't see him.  He thrust his chin forward
belligerently.

   Chuck looked at Mr.  Zeliff, who tried to wave him off too, but by then
he was pissed that this whole thing had been blown out of proportion.

   "The players were caught...being involved sexually...with four of the
cheerleaders," he stated flatly.

   When the pandemonium died down—and that took a while—the
board members wanted to know all the salacious details.  Chuck wouldn't
tell them.  He said that information had been given to the parents involved
and that, as far as he was concerned, it was in their hands.  If THEY
wanted to make the details public, then THEY could, but HE wasn't going to.


   Then he sat down.

   The board members wouldn't drop it, though.  They were under the
impression that, since they were elected officials, they had some kind of
right to know about the details of the allegations.  When Chuck still
wouldn't tell them, they demanded that, since a decision had to be made
concerning whether or not the kids would be suspended or expelled from
school, they had to know the details.

   Chuck stated that, since they were not actually school officials and
couldn't suspend or expel anyone, it would be a violation of the kids'
privacy to tell them what had happened.

   One board member, Paul Stevenson, stood up.  "Mr.  Bondurant, who were
the girls involved in this incident?"

   At this point only Frank Zeliff had been identified to the public at
large, and then only because his father had decided to try to throw his
weight around.  Those who had been at the game knew which players had been
benched, and a few officials in the school knew.  But Chuck had told no one
who the girls were.  The team knew, and the cheerleaders all knew, of
course, but they had closed ranks upon returning to the school and finding
themselves in the limelight.

   "The girls’ parents have been notified.  I don't believe the names
of the girls are pertinent to the issue in this meeting, Mr.  Stevenson,"
said Chuck.

   "I don't believe you want to keep your job, Mr.  Bondurant," said
Stevenson.

   "That's the first thing you've said all night that I agree with," said
Chuck.  And he got up and walked out.

   The news flew like wildfire through the community.  Coach Bondurant had
caught kids having sex!  Of course everyone in town knew that kids had sex,
so that wasn't odd.  But the Coach wouldn't give the names publicly and
that was something the gossip mongers just couldn't resist.  The boys'
names were assumed, of course, because people at the game had seen them
sitting on the bench.  Rumors flew and everybody was unhappy.  Parents
grilled their kids, but the kids all decided that the adults were being
nosey and stayed clammed up.

   Mr.  Black explained to Chuck that, by contract, he had to stay the rest
of the school year and couldn't just walk out.  Chuck agreed, but stated
that if he started getting hassled by the school board, or began to get
"disciplined" for stupid things, he'd leave and they could sue him if they
wanted to.  Since Mr.  Black knew the names of the kids involved, and
agreed with Chuck that their situation should be handled by the parents, he
agreed.  He was also under a lot of pressure, except that no one knew that
he actually knew the names.

   Thankfully, even with all the noses poking into his business, Chuck was
relieved that no one seemed to have found out that he had stayed in a room
with a female chaperone.  That would have blown the lid off things even
more.

   Back at home, Bobby, Lori and Claire tried to settle back into what had
been routine before the trip.  It was impossible.  As Claire lay in her bed
she couldn't help but wonder what her children were doing.  Her bed
suddenly seemed too big...and too empty.  Every night she reminded herself
to get Lori to the Doctor to get a prescription for the pill.  Every
morning she lost herself in work and forgot.

   Lori never reminded her.

   Claire was bent over her desk working on several files when a shadow
fell across her.  She looked up irritably.  Nancy, her secretary, knew she
didn't want to be interrupted and should have called her first.

   Chuck was standing at her desk, a half smile on his face.

   "Hi, I just thought I'd come in and check on my loan," he said.

   Claire sat back and watched his eyes drop to her chest before coming
back up to her face.

   "Your loan was final a month ago," she said.  "We cut you the check and
it was cashed.  I checked."

   "My, my, no sense of humor at all today," he said, that maddening grin
coming to his face.  "You need to eat something...get your blood sugar up.
You'd feel better," he said.  "All work and no play can make a girl
cranky."

   "This is a fine time to suggest...play," she said, her mood lightening.

   "Kids still get recess at lunchtime.  Why shouldn't we?" he smiled.

   "So, where do you want to eat lunch?" asked Claire.  His eyes were so
brown and deep.

   "I figured, what with you having two teenagers and all, you're bound to
have a jar of peanut butter and loaf of bread," he said.

   "My house?" she said meekly.  She knew exactly what would happen if she
got him alone at her house.

   "I don't have any peanut butter at my house," he said.

   Claire felt herself melting inside.  She hadn't done this for years. 
The prospect of having him pressing her to the bed again suddenly made her
pussy so wet she was afraid she'd leave a spot on her chair.

   "Come on," she said, rising quickly.  She forced herself not to look at
the chair.  On her way out she said, "Nancy, I'm going to lunch.  I don't
know when I'll be back."

   Nancy, who had told Chuck that Ms.  Richardson didn't wish to be
disturbed, had been disarmed by his grin and his statement that he'd take
all the blame if she got mad.  She looked at her boss with wide eyes.  She
could see that Claire was...agitated.

   "Is everything OK?" she asked.

   Claire waved a hand hurriedly.  She was afraid Nancy would smell her
arousal.  "Fine...it's just lunch."

   Chuck grinned and mouthed, "Thanks," to the secretary.

   Nancy, who knew her boss pretty well after three years, sat back in her
chair.  Could it be that the Ice Queen was beginning to thaw?

   When they got to the house, Claire led Chuck up to the door and fumbled
with the keys.  She got inside and was so agitated she couldn't turn around
and face him.  She couldn't believe what he did to her self control.

   "Claire?" he said softly.

   "What?" she responded, looking down at the floor.

   "Are you OK with this?" he asked, coming up behind her.  He placed his
hands gently on her hips.  "I don't want to push you into anything."

   "Oh, you're not pushing me anywhere," she sighed leaning back against
him.  "I'm just helpless when I'm around you."

   His hands slid around to her front and up to cup her breasts.  His lips
were at her ear.  "Good," he said.  "I'm not hungry for peanut butter
sandwiches anymore.  Where's your bedroom?"

   Her hands had come up to cover his, pressing them to her breasts, and
she was breathless as she took one hand and pulled him to her bedroom. 
Once there, she was able to turn and face him.

   "I needed you so badly," she moaned.  "But you haven't called since we
got back."

   "I wanted you to have some time to think," he said.

   "I was afraid you thought we were all perverts," she sighed.

   "I see two kids who love each other," he said, unbuttoning his shirt. 
"I see a boy who loves his mother." He started on his pants.  "I see a
woman I love and can't do without, whether she loves her son differently
than society approves of or not."

   "We haven't done anything," objected Claire.

   "I don't want to share you with him," said Chuck, baring his stiff prick
and making Claire's breath catch in her throat.  She was still completely
dressed.  "But I will if I have to."

   Claire felt dizzy.  She had tried not to think about how Bobby felt
about her, and had forbidden herself to think about how she might react if
she were naked with her own son.  When that happened she thought of Chuck
and masturbated with her eyes tightly closed.

   "I need you now," she gasped.

   "For a woman who needs me so badly, you sure are overdressed," he
chided. He came to her and began to unbutton her white silk blouse.  Her
hands scrabbled and buttons flew.  Her bra opened in the front and it
flopped apart as she released it.  His fingers had unzipped the short
zipper of her gray wool skirt and she pushed it down hurriedly.  Today she
had worn a garter belt instead of panty hose, but her panties were under
it. She pushed at her panties unsuccessfully and whimpered with
frustration.

   "Leave them," said Chuck, pushing her to the bed.  "I'll take care of
them."

   He pushed her down on the bed and she writhed, wanting to feel his
weight on her.  His hands went to her thighs and she raised her hips to let
him take her panties off.  Instead, he pulled them aside and burrowed his
face into her wet pussy.

   She had never done this before.  Denny refused to put his mouth on her
sex...had basically refused to do anything other than take her missionary
style.  The feeling of Chuck’s tongue in her slot made her face hot
and she was afraid she'd burst a blood vessel.  She let out an agonized
groan as his tongue stabbed into her sex and then his lips found and sucked
in her clit.

   "Ohhhh, you're killing meeeeeee," she moaned, her head turning from side
to side.

   He stopped and her head came up off the bed in panic.  "Oh don't stop!
Please don't stop," she pleaded.

   "More later," he said, fisting his cock and crawling up to nestle it
into her slot.  "But now let's do this."

   He pushed, the side of his cock scraping along her panties where they
had been pushed aside.  Always before he'd been an ardent and almost
violent lover.  But this time he inched into Claire, staring into her eyes.
As he seated himself in her, he said, "I love you, Claire Richardson."

   Claire's emotions overcame her and she bawled, her hands on his ass,
gripping and pulling fiercely.  She sobbed on, but her actions made it
clear what she wanted and he began to rod her pussy with long, strong
strokes.  They thrashed together, straining and thrusting against each
other, their kisses sloppy.  Claire's makeup smeared and ran but, had she
been able to see it she wouldn't have cared at that point.  She ached to
feel her release, and when it came she sobbed again, surrendering to the
feeling of being in love again, her pussy clasping and gripping the penis
of the man she loved.  And, when he groaned and she felt his cock swell and
spurt, the hot liquid she could feel splashing in her was something she
knew she'd crave.  At that precise point she also decided she wouldn't go
see the doctor after all.  She wanted this man's seed to take root in her
and to grow into a baby they could raise.  She didn't care if he married
her or not...if they lived together or not...she just wanted a piece of
this man with her forever.

   When they collapsed, both gasping for breath, he murmured the words in
her ear again, wonderingly, as if he were surprised himself at the emotion
in is voice.  "I love you."

   It had happened so quickly that, when she looked at her watch, Claire
realized only ten minutes had passed.  She told him so.  "We have time to
go again," she said hopefully.

   He smiled at her, but then frowned.  "I have to talk to you about
something."

   There was something in his voice that made Claire's inner self take a
figurative breath to scream in anguish.  It was the unspoken sound of a man
saying goodbye to a woman and she wanted to put her hands over her ears.

   "You're leaving," she gasped.

   He sat up, surprise across his face.  "Who told you?" he asked.

   His confirmation of her fear cut through her like a rusty saber, tearing
her heart.  She began to cry again, but this time it wasn't from joy.

   Chuck rolled toward her and held her.  "No…don't cry...Claire?  I
got a job offer," he said.

   She had known deep inside her that his tenure at Hillsdale High was
numbered in mere months.  The fiasco at the school board meeting had
assured that.  But she'd tried to push that out of her mind, hoping against
hope that things would work out.

   Chuck cupped her chin.  "Claire, it's not like I'm leaving tomorrow. 
And it doesn't have to be the end for us."

   "Why?" she sobbed.  "Where is this job offer?"

   "Southeast State wants me to coach their football team.  Head Coach,
Claire."

   Southeast State had just had their first miserable season after several
years of winning game after game, beating schools that were much bigger
than they were.  This whole end of the state was proud of them and almost
everybody had the colors of the Southeast State Tigers on their car, or
flying from their flag pole, or even painted on the curb with their address
numbers.  But their coach of some nineteen years had announced he was going
to retire at the end of the season.  He had thought it would spur his team
to win one last season for him, but, instead, they were demoralized and
lost all but two games.

   But they had the talent to win.  What they needed was a coach to put the
heart back in them.  It was a wonderful opportunity for someone like Chuck
and Claire knew it.  But Southeast State was in Carrolton.

   "That's a hundred and fifty miles away," she whined.

   "A mere three hour drive," he said, cupping one of her breasts.

   "You'll be surrounded by all those college girls, with their firm round
asses and those impossibly firm tits," she moaned.  "You won't even want to
think about an old hag like me."

   He pinched one nipple—hard—and Claire yelped and sat up,
batting his hand away.

   "What'd you do that for?" she groused, rubbing the offended nipple.

   "I was trying to bring you back to your senses," he said.  "If you have
any left."

   "But it's so far away," she pointed out.  "And you'll be busy coaching.
I know how much time you spend with high school boys.  I can only imagine
it will be longer with that team.  Especially when they start winning
again."

   He grinned.  "I'm please you have faith in my abilities.  Now, just find
a way to have faith in my love for you.  We'll figure something out.  I
can't in good conscience ask you to quit your job and marry me, because
while this is a plum, the pay's not all that magnificent.  And I assume
Bobby and Lori are planning on college, so it wouldn't be fair to them to
ask you to do that either.  But we'll figure out something.  OK?"

   Claire wanted to believe that he was right, that things would work out.
She hugged him fiercely, which led to kisses, which led to groping, which
led to Claire climbing on top of him and riding him, holding her hands on
his muscular chest, forcing him to let her have two more orgasms before she
said he could cum in her again.

   Later, when she looked in the mirror in the bathroom, she almost
screamed.  Her mascara had run, making her look like a KISS groupie.  Her
lipstick was smeared, her rouge was brown and pasty looking.  Her hair
looked like rats had nested in it for years.  She made such sounds that
Chuck came into the bathroom to see what was wrong.

   "What's WRONG?" she shouted.  "I look HIDEOUS!  That's what's wrong!"

   "What are you talking about?  You're gorgeous," he said.  He reached
around her to cup her breasts again and gave them a squeeze.  "You're so
gorgeous I want to go again.  OK?  Hmm?  One more time?"

   His antics got her laughing and his attitude about her appearance, more
than anything else he'd said or done, convinced her that he really did love
her.  If he could act that way when she looked like a Titanic survivor...he
really loved her.

   Because of the time it took her to repair her makeup and hair, Claire
didn't walk back into her office until an hour and a half after she'd left.
Since Claire usually didn't take lunch at all, unless it was with a client,
Nancy paid particularly close attention to how she looked.  There were
little telltale signs.  There were a few wrinkles in the blouse, because it
had lain on the floor instead of having been hung up.  Her hair had been
changed slightly, as if it had required an extensive brushing.  She was
wearing a different color of lipstick than she had been when she’d
left.  But most obvious of all was her relaxed posture, the confident way
she walked, and the smile on her face.  Claire Richardson had the look of a
well-fucked woman.

   Nancy was thrilled.  While Claire was gone she'd made a friendly bet
with Shirley, over in accounting, and stood to make some made money if she
could find a way to get Claire to admit she'd been laid over lunch.  It was
the look in that hunky man's eyes when he’d led Claire away that had
convinced Nancy to find Shirley and make the bet.

   Nancy followed Claire into her office and waited until she'd sat down.

   "Yes, Nancy?" said Claire, as if she'd never left her desk at all.

   "Do you want me to arrange to send him some flowers?" asked Nancy.

   Claire's head jerked.  "Women don't send men flowers!" she said.  Then
she thought about how she hadn't been in the dating field for years and
years, and things might have changed.  "Do they?" she added.

   Nancy smiled.  "They do if they had more than one orgasm." She was
taking a chance.  She knew Claire well, and they were as friendly as a boss
and employee could be, but it was still a chance.

   Claire blushed.  But she was an adult, and she wasn't ashamed in any way
of how she felt about Chuck.

   "Better make it two dozen then," said Claire.  She grinned at her
secretary.  She wrote Chuck's name on a piece of stationery and handed it
to Nancy.  "Have them charge it to my personal account.  The bank's not
paying for this one."

   Nancy was smiling from ear to ear when she left.  She suddenly stopped
and turned back around.  "I almost forgot.  Mr.  Phinneas wanted to see you
when you got back.  It didn't sound like he was mad about anything."

   Claire almost groaned.  Clyde Phinneas was the president of the bank. 
While he had never said or done anything improper, his eyes raked up and
down her figure every time he saw her.  She was always on her guard around
Clyde.  But he was the boss, so she got up and strode toward his office on
the other side of the building.

   "Yes sir?" she said as she walked into his office.

   He looked up from the papers on his desk and, true to form, his eyes
went from her face to her chest, and then down, before slowly drawing back
up to her face.  "Sit down, Claire," he said.

   She sat in the chair farthest from his desk and waited.  Clyde was hard
to read, but he didn't look too happy.

   "This...difficulty with coach Bondurant...  It's very unpleasant," said
Phinneas.

   Claire's stomach did a flip flop as she realized Phinneas didn't look
happy at all.

   Chapter Eight

   Claire had been ready to talk about a lot of issues she was associated
with at the bank.  It had never occurred to her that the subject of Chuck
might come up.

   "Yes," she said shortly.

   "I believe you're dating Coach Bondurant.  Is that correct?" he asked.

   Claire felt heat beginning to build in her chest.  "Yes sir, though I
can't imagine why that would be any of your concern," she said.  She
immediately wished the heat in her chest hadn't been so obvious in her
voice.

   "You're aware that Paul Stevenson is a member of the board of directors
for this bank," said Phinneas flatly.  "He's concerned that there may be
some public perception that your...association with the coach...may reflect
poorly on the bank." He sat back and watched to see what Claire would do.

   "That's ridiculous," said Claire.  "And you know it."

   Phinneas smiled a tight little smile.  "Mister Stevenson has suggested
that, if you should see fit to identify the children whose behavior ruined
the chances for our school to have a state championship, he would be
assured of your loyalty, and would have no guilty feelings about
recommending that we retain you in your current...sensitive position."

   Claire wanted to rage at the man.  But she took a breath.  "Mister
Phinneas, I have been with this bank for ten years.  No one has ever had
any complaints about my performance.  You, yourself, have given me the
highest marks during annual evaluations.  Mister Stevenson is just mad
because he couldn't bully Chuck into divulging the names of those kids. 
And now he's trying to bully you too, Mister Phinneas.  Well, he won't
bully me.  You have my promise on that."

   "And, if it comes to loggerheads--I'm not saying it will, you
understand--but if it does, what would you choose to do?" he asked.

   Claire was a little confused.  It was almost like the man was giving her
a choice.  It might only be the choice of being fired or being allowed to
resign, but why would he care?

   "As I said, sir, I know my job and I do it well.  My percentage of loans
in default is two percent, Mister Phinneas.  You know that.  Any bank in
the state would be happy to have me." She started to stand up.  She was
prepared to walk out and never look back.  That was a result of her anger,
though, and not rational thought.

   "Claire, please...sit down," said Phinneas.

   Claire would never be able to tell anyone just why she decided to stay.
She wanted to wag her ass at the man on her way out, sort of a "wave
goodbye to this, you prick, because you'll never get your hands on it for
SURE!" kind of body language.  But, she sank back down in the chair and
waited.

   Phinneas sat up straight, businesslike, and shuffled some papers on his
desk.  "You are entirely correct, of course.  You are one of the best loan
officers I've seen in my life.  You're wasted here in this one-horse town.
You need to be at our corporate headquarters.  I believe you are aware of
where headquarters is?"

   Claire knew exactly where headquarters was.  It was in Carrolton...a
hundred and fifty miles away.

   Phinneas went on.  "I've had a phone call from Rod Brown.  As you know
he oversees all the loan officers for headquarters.  He tells me he could
use a right hand man...or woman...to take charge of training loan officers
across the state how to achieve loan default rates below ten percent.  Are
you interested?"

   Claire stared at the man, who suddenly had what looked suspiciously like
a twinkle in his eye.

   "You'd have to move your family to Carrolton, of course, but the move
would be covered by your benefits.  And your salary will be roughly
doubled. Aren't your children about ready to start college?  I hadn't
thought of that.  That would be convenient, wouldn't it?  And I believe
they have a good sports program at the college there...for your son...of
course."

   He was smiling now.

   Claire felt weak.  She sat up anyway, though, and nailed Phinneas with
her stare.  "You know about the job offer, don't you?" she said.

   He grinned.  "Of course, my dear, I just gave it to you."

   Claire shook her head.  "The OTHER job offer.  You knew about that
before I came in here!"

   "Rod is an old buddy of mine," confided Clyde.  "And a football fanatic.
When he heard rumors that Southeast State had offered the coaching job to
some young buck from our town he called me to get the skinny on what kind
of coach he was.  We just got to talking and...well, you know the rest."

   Claire was as astounded as if she'd seen a flying saucer.  Up to this
point in time, Clyde Phinneas was the coldest man she'd ever met.  He
rarely smiled, never chitchatted and didn't appear to have a heart at all,
much less a heart of gold.

   "What about Mister Stevenson?" she asked.

   "He's an asshole," said Clyde, as if he talked that way every day.  "All
he's going to see is your house being packed up and you leaving town.  I'll
tell him that's what putting pressure on people results in.  He'll owe me
big time.  By the way, I want you to choose your replacement, and I want
you to train him or her first when you get to the big time.  That's part of
the deal, OK?"

   Claire stood up.  She felt shaky.  She walked around his desk and pulled
him to his feet by his hands.

   "I need a hug, Mister Phinneas," she said.  His eyes looked shocked. 
She pressed her lush body against his and whispered in his ear.  "Mister
Phinneas...once...just this once...I'd like you to squeeze my buttocks."

   She felt his hands slide very tentatively to her round bottom, whereupon
they gave a convulsive, tiny, little squeeze.  She pushed him away and
smiled.  "Thank you sir...for everything.  I misjudged you, and I'm sorry.
I'll try not to make that mistake again."

   He looked back with slightly glazed eyes.  "Could I have one more little
squeeze?" he whispered.

   "No," she said sternly.  But, before she left, she stepped closer and
pecked him solidly on his lips.

   As she left he called out, "I'll have the movers get in touch with you."

   It was a testament to her feelings as a mother that she talked with her
children first.  There was the initial resistance to moving from the only
place they'd ever called home.  She'd expected that, and she let them vent.
Then she mentioned that, since they wanted to stay to finish the school
year, and since who knew how long it would take to sell the house, perhaps
they could be trusted to live there with a little minimal supervision, such
as occasional visits from Chuck, while she went on ahead and found a place
in Carrolton for them all to live in.

   "Of course, with you two about ready to go off to college and leave me
all alone I might look for something with only two bedrooms.  I know that
means you'd have to share a room until Bobby moves out.  And then, when you
go to college, Lori, I could turn it into a home office or something." She
watched as what that meant sank into their teenaged brains.

   "We'd have to...share?" asked Lori, looking sideways at her brother.

   "Yes, I know how that must disappoint you," said Claire.  "And what with
beds being so expensive and all, I might just buy one big one, instead of
two little ones.  And it would only be until you both go off to college.  I
know you could just live there and go to Southeast State, but I'm sure you
wouldn't want to live together in that little room all through college or
anything.  But remember, I can always turn the job down.  If staying here
another year means that much to you..."

   Claire almost laughed as Lori squeaked, "NO!  Mom...really...this is
important for you!  I mean this is a big promotion, isn't it?"

   "Twice the money," said Claire.

   "You've sacrificed so much for us over the years," noted Lori.  "It's
only right that we sacrifice a little for you.  Don't you agree, Bobby?"

   Bobby just grinned and hugged his sister, kissing her soundly.  Then he
let her go and hugged his mother tightly.

   "Thanks mom," he whispered into her neck.  She shivered as she felt his
hard body pressed hard against hers.  On impulse, she kissed him on the
lips...not too long...but warmly.

   "You're welcome, sweetheart," she said when she pulled back.

   "Hey!" barked Lori.  "Hands off!  You have your own man." She giggled.
"Unless you want to share.  I might be convinced to share some." She
laughed gaily and pulled Bobby away from his mother.  "Come on," she
yipped. "Let's go plan."

   As they disappeared toward the bedrooms, Claire wondered how much
planning they'd do and how much...other they'd do.  She decided to go find
Chuck and talk to him next.

   "THAT meeting went well!" Claire sighed to herself as she lay, sweaty
and sperm soaked in Chuck's bed.

   He had worked himself up to a fever pitch at the idea that they would be
together.  He'd proposed to her with his prick jammed almost into her womb
and she'd accepted as his semen rushed into her unprotected belly.  She
told him about the conversation with the kids, laughing and squirming as he
suckled at her engorged nipples and then, when she told him that Lori had
suggested sharing men, he rolled back on top of her and deposited another
load of baby batter in her welcoming uterus.

   As they lay there resting after that second wild ride, he turned his
head to her.  "You can't let me supervise them while you're gone.  If Lori
comes on to me I might not be able to resist."

   Claire lay there staring at the ceiling.  So much had changed in her
life.  The changes made it seem like she'd been asleep, dreaming a drab and
boring existence, and had finally wakened to a world full of color and
passion and love.  She never wanted to dream again.  Her own real life was
so much better.

   Part of those massive changes had to do with her children.  She hadn't
know who they really were until that fateful weekend at the football
tournament.  And she'd resisted letting them BE who they were, because it
was strange and different.  She thought about Clyde Phinneas, and how wrong
she'd been about him.  Somewhere along the way she'd decided, somehow, that
what her children shared was something precious and, while it couldn't be
honored publicly, because the public just wouldn't understand, she could
honor it herself.

   That sharing was based on lust, as much as it was love, in Claire's
opinion, and they might grow apart as the years went by and find more
conventional partners.  That would probably be better in the long run, but
she couldn't deny them the love they now shared.

   And, she felt completely unafraid of losing her lover and future husband
to her daughter.  She felt more secure with Chuck than she ever had with
Denny, and she'd known him for far less time.  If anything happened between
them it would be lust alone, more than likely.

   That led her to the obvious progression of thought that, if Chuck were
to climb on top of Lori as they sated that lust, she and Bobby would
probably end up naked and sweaty together in bed too.

   She looked at that thought from several different places in her mind,
trying to find one that screamed against it.  There had been a scream in
her mind at one time...but now she couldn't seem to find it.  If she
coupled with her son it would be simple lust too, even though they loved
each other.  But she was surprised to find that her mind didn't recoil
anymore at the prospect of feeling her son climb between her thighs.

   "Claire?" prompted Chuck.  She had been silent a long time.

   She turned her head.  "Think about you...with Lori...and me...  with
Bobby." She let that sink in.  "How does that make you feel?"

   To his credit he did think about it for a moment.  "I don't know," he
finally said.

   "Does anything in your mind scream that it shouldn't be?" she asked.

   "No...there are some doubts, but nothing screaming.  Does that make me a
pervert?" he asked.

   "I don't think so," she said.  "I think that makes you human.  Society
created all these rules about this kind of thing, but before the rules we
were just...human." Her hand strayed to his arm and she stroked it. 
"Nothing screams at me either," she said.

   "Wow," said Chuck.

   "Yeah...wow," repeated Claire.

   "Why don't we just play that by ear," suggested Chuck.

   "I don't think it's her ear you want to play with," said Claire,
slapping his arm lightly.

   He rolled over.  "I love YOU," he said.  "And it's YOU I want to be
with." He kissed her and she knew he meant it.

   "I believe you," she said simply.  "One more time?"

   "You wrung me out good and proper, lady," he said, smiling wanly.  "I
think I'm done."

   "We'll just see about that," said Claire.  She sat up and dove down onto
his flaccid penis, sucking it into her mouth and humming.

   It took a while, but she got her third pussyful before she stopped.

   If Claire had thought the kids would be surprised and amazed that Chuck
had asked her to marry him, or that she had agreed, she was sadly mistaken.
They were elated.

   They met together as a family, including Chuck in the plans, giving his
opinions full weight.  Not that there were any arguments about what should
be done, really.  Lori flirted with Chuck outrageously, and got called on
it time and again, by Bobby or her mother.

   Chuck never said a word.  But he didn't flirt back.  It was like her
teasing comments bounced off a solid brick wall.

   Claire, on the other hand, was much closer to Bobby than she had been in
the past.  She'd left off hugging him and kissing his cheek when he entered
puberty, thinking that he wouldn't want that kind of attention from his
mother now that he was "a man."

   But she found touching him made her heart melt, so she did that a lot
these days.  They weren't sexual touches.  Gripping his forearm while
talking to him, or rubbing his shoulders while he sat and studied, leaning
against him, shoulder to shoulder as they did dishes together...little
touches.  And she gave both him and Lori pecks on the lips as they left the
house or returned.  There were fewer arguments, even though Claire's rules
as a mother didn't change, with the exception that Claire didn't pay much
attention to whether Lori and Bobby slept in their own rooms.

   She did, however, get Lori a prescription for the pill.  Lori hadn't had
a period since Claire had found out she and Bobby were having unprotected
sex, but wasn't due for another week, so they wouldn't know for sure until
then.  It might be much too late to close that particular barn door.  On
the other hand, if it wasn't already too late, there was no sense taking
further chances.

   =========

   Lori's teasing came to a head the night before Claire was due to drive
off to Carrolton to begin her new job.  She'd only be gone a week this
first time, since the Holidays were close upon them, and she'd have time to
come back home, or look for a new one, whichever she needed to do.

   Dinner was finished, and a movie had been rented.  Chuck was sitting on
the couch while Bobby put the tape in the player.  Claire and Lori were
finishing up the dishes; Lori washing and Claire drying.  It was for that
reason that Lori got finished first, dried her hands and went directly to
sit on her future stepfather's lap.  She giggled as she plopped down.

   "I don't remember sitting on my daddy's lap.  This is kind of nice," she
giggled, squirming.

   Chuck had had all he could take.  He lifted his right hand and cupped
her braless breast through her T-shirt, squeezing her nipple.

   "I bet you don't remember him doing that either," he said seriously.

   Claire walked in to see Lori's shocked surprise at being groped. 
Leaving them alone to work it out she went up behind Bobby and slipped her
hands around his waist to rest on his hard stomach.  He was too tall to put
her chin on his shoulder, so she leaned around his arm, dragging her
breasts across his back.

   "What are we watching?" she asked.

   "The Summer of '41," he said, leaning into her.  "Or my sister trying to
seduce your fiancé," he added.

   They both turned to see Chuck, still fondling Lori's breasts, only this
time with his hand under her shirt, while she kissed him.

   "Should they be doing that?" asked Bobby, a tinge of jealousy in his
voice.

   "Should we be doing this?" asked Claire, and she lifted her lips to her
son's.

   Bobby's response was almost animal.  He kissed her back hungrily, his
tongue flashing out of his mouth and his hands dropping to the same
buttocks that she had let Clyde Phinneas squeeze only a few weeks ago.  He
pulled her against his obviously hard penis.

   Then he broke away and leaned back as far as he could with his mother
holding him tightly.

   "Don't start something you can't finish, Mom," he warned.

   There was a squeal from Lori as Chuck pulled her down and rolled on top
of her on the couch.  Her T-shirt had somehow gotten in a pile on the
floor. She let him settle between her legs.  Even though she was wearing
jeans and he was fully clothed, they looked completely sexual about what
they were doing.  Chuck's mouth sought out the cheerleader's nipples as she
squealed some more.

   "They're using the couch.  That only leaves the bed for us," said
Claire, her voice deep with feeling.

   Bobby picked her up, carrying her like she was a little girl.  She
leaned against his chest as he took her and laid her gently on the bed in
her room.  She didn't know if that was a claim by him that he was taking
her in her own bed, or if something deep inside him didn't want to use the
bed he fucked his sister on.  And she didn't much care at the moment.  She
felt release, and shame, and excitement and fear all at once as her son
began disrobing.  When his penis was exposed, long and straight, it was
like she'd never seen it before.

   He stood, frozen, as Claire slowly unbuttoned her blouse, exposing her
lacy bra.

   "Are these what you dreamed of?" she asked.  Her fingers went to the
front catch and she undid it, but only let the bra come apart a few inches.

   "You do it," she whispered.

   His hands came out and, so gently that she could only tell by the cool
air on her nipples, he lifted the cloth and moved it aside.

   "You're so beautiful," he whispered.

   "You used to nurse from them," said Claire, feeling a stab in her loins
as she anticipated feeling him suck again.

   He leaned down and licked one nipple with just the tip of his tongue and
then dropped his face into her full breast and sucked, making little
noises, much like he had when he was a baby.

   Claire pushed her pants down while he sucked, alternating from one
breast to the other, but she could only get them just past her buttocks
without dislodging him.

   "My pants," she gasped, her pussy now wet.

   He left off her breasts reluctantly, licking and then sucking again and
finally licking a nipple again before standing up.  Her pubes were exposed
and the way he looked at them made her want to cover herself.  Instead she
raised one leg so he could pull that pant leg off.  He pulled both at once
and she lay quietly, legs together, arms at her side.

   "Let me see," he said.

   "I can't," she moaned.  "I want to, but I can't."

   His hands moved to her knees and under HIS pressure, she let her knees
begin to move apart.  Her knees came up off the bed naturally, bringing her
heels closer to her buttocks as she made the saddle he'd mount her in.

   "Beautiful," he whispered.

   Then, almost too fast for her to react, he climbed on the bed and
between her thighs, lying down on her soft body and kissing her mouth. 
Again his tongue dueled with hers as he ground his groin against hers.  He
seemed intent on kissing her forever, but now that she'd decided to do
this, she wanted to feel him in her.  She reached between them, making a
fist to cause him enough discomfort that he'd raise up and, when he did she
found his cock and directed it to her sopping pussy.  Still kissing her he
rammed forward instantly and then stopped, buried deep as he moaned into
her mouth.

   She squeezed him with muscles she'd brought back into peak shape by
using them on Chuck and he surged against her, mashing her clit.

   He broke the kiss and moaned.

   "Mom, I can't control it.  Oh Mommmmmmmm," he sighed as she felt his
prick buck and squirt.  He was not as big around as Chuck, though he was
longer, so much so that she felt his prick digging into her cervix as it
propelled his seed into her again and again.

   "It's OK, baby," she said soothingly.  "Mommy wants your cum." She
couldn't say why she used little-boy talk with him.  He certainly didn't
feel like a little boy, and the fluid he was filling her belly with was
little-boyish only in so far as it might MAKE a little boy in her womb. 
"Mommy loves your hot cum in her belly," she moaned.

   Bobby grunted and his surges became short strokes, which became longer
strokes as he realized he was still hard.  Now he was finally doing what
he'd dreamed of since his balls began making the stuff he had just soaked
his mother's pussy with.  His own needs satisfied for the moment, he began
to pay attention to the movements and sounds his mother was making.  They
were different than what Lori did, but similar, too, and he was able to
read that slightly different language.

   He found that his mother liked a steep angle of attack, and that she
liked it when he shoved into her so hard that it made her breasts jiggle.
He thought her nose had started running or something, based on the sniffs
she suddenly developed, her head coming up off the bed and then bouncing
back down.  Then he realized she was having an orgasm, but was trying hard
to have it quietly, breathing through her nose and keeping her lips tightly
closed.

   There was a distant wail, from the direction of the living room, where
it was obvious that a teenage girl was also having an orgasm.

   "Let it loose, Mom," he whispered, leaning down to lick a nipple.

   Claire's eyes popped open and her mouth followed.  The sound she made
was reminiscent of a singer who is trying to hold a note as long as
possible at the end of a song, though the pitch changed, starting low and
building higher and higher until it was a high pitched whine of pleasure.
Her pussy might have been playing that voice, based on the ripples that
seemed to be like the fingers of a Flamenco guitarist on the smoking frets
of a guitar.

   As Bobby pounded her harder, that long whine changed to quick inhales,
followed by explosive exhales that powered her vocal chords in ways that
sounded vaguely alien.  Her head flailed, her hair flying every which way.
Her hands alternated between gripping the bedspread with white knuckles, to
grasping his waist and pulling him harder into her.

   Bobby, was used to a teenage girl who knew what an orgasm was, and
enjoyed hers immensely, but had no frame of reference to enhance that
orgasm emotionally.  His mother, entering into this taboo relationship,
brought all her passion to their mating and expended it like a machine
gunner who knew he had endless ammo.

   Bobby was shocked at the raw sexuality his mother displayed as she
enjoyed his prick.

   It was still too soon for him to cum again, and he was having a
wonderful time poking and prodding his mother, so he just kept on.

   ===

   Back in the living room, Chuck's kisses and groping had led to him lying
Lori down on the couch, still dressed in her pants.  He attacked her
sensitive teenaged breasts, with their sensitive teenaged nipples, using
experience that Bobby just hadn't had time to gain.  Chuck knew just how
hard to bite them, and just how hard to suck on them.  He knew just how
hard to squeeze them, and just how much he could pull them away from her
chest, without making the pain she felt uncomfortable.  And he knew how to
rub her, even through her jeans, in ways that drove her crazy.

   When she was writhing under his attention, arching her back and
thrusting her hips, he stood up and, in seconds, made himself naked.  His
thick pole jutted at her, like the barrel of a shotgun.

   "Is this what you want, little girl?" he asked menacingly.  "You want me
to stuff you like I stuff your mother?"

   Lori was beside herself.  She'd seen that penis at work in her mother,
but she'd been six or seven feet away.  Up close it looked like a baseball
bat to her.  So there was fear that he'd split her open.  But, in another
sense, she'd...seen that penis at work in her mother...who had been
enjoying it to a HIGH degree.  So there was eager anticipation to feel a
strange prick in her pussy.

   All that translated to, "Oh please...please...oh please."

   Chuck leaned over and unsnapped her jeans, pulling them apart so
forcefully that the zipper sang as it jerked apart.  She barely had time to
lift her hips before he was pulling them down, her panties with them. 
Unlike her mother, something in her wanted to display herself to this man
and, as soon as she could, she flung one leg up on the back of the couch
and put the other foot on the floor, spreading herself wide, opening her
defenseless pussy to be plundered.

   Chuck plundered it first with his tongue.

   Lori wasn't prepared for that.  She and Bobby had talked about having
oral sex, but fear that it might not be all it was cracked up to be had
kept them from trying something that might turn out to be something they
wished they'd never done.  So, while Lori had thought about what it might
feel like, she had no frame of reference to deal with the feelings of
having her pussy lips, along with her clit, sucked into his mouth
and...chewed on...for lack of a better description.

   Her hips jerked convulsively and she whined in almost-fright just as he
burrowed between her pussy lips to find her clit and sucked just that in.
He knew exactly how hard to nip and suck at that, too, and Lori felt
herself washed away by a tidal wave of feeling as she had an "emergency
orgasm." She bucked and grunted and thrust to the point that it was obvious
she was in the throes of passion.

   Which is when Chuck decided that might be the time to stretch her pussy
a little.  Like a snake he struck while she was still on cloud nine.  He
fisted his cock and nosed it between her sloppy pussy lips and, with
tightly controlled pressure, began to shove it into her buttery depths.

   Lori's orgasm turned into something that was half pain from being
stretched almost cruelly, and half electrical shock from having the penis
stretching her scrape along her clitty like it was trying to rub it off her
body.  She might have screamed, partly from the pain and partly just to
release tension, except that she had no air to scream with.  And, by the
time she could get some air into her young lungs, Chuck had pulled his
sword of love out of her and begun to run her through again.  And, by the
time she decided what kinds of noises to make with that air she now had in
her lungs, he had already set up a rhythm and was fucking her with strokes
that pulled out slowly and then slammed into her forcefully enough that her
firm teen breasts jumped down and then up once.

   The sound her mind had planned to make suddenly changed to, "Ohhhh
fuck," as it gushed out between her suddenly dry lips.

   "Is this what you wanted?" he whispered in her ear, his body hovering
over her so that the only contact they had was his prick in her pussy.

   "Ohhhhhhhhhh fuck," was all she could reply.

   Suddenly Chuck poked in and held it, rotating his hips in small circles
like he was trying to squeeze her clit flat, or maybe unscrew it from her
body or something.

   "Cum for me, Lori," he grunted.  "Make my prick all wet."

   Lori had lost her breath again at the savage clitoral stimulation, so
when she did cum for him, and around him, she couldn't tell him she was
doing it.  That didn't matter, because her pussy told him for her as it
flexed, loosened and then tightened down to grip him like a Rottweiler
grips an intruder.

   "Yeaaahhhhh, that's it baby," he cooed.  "Cum all over my cock.  You
want a little present from my cock, Lori?  You want to feel me squirting in
there?"

   Lori nodded frantically and finally got a breath.  She used that one in
a voiceless wail that was heard upstairs by her mother and brother and her
hips finally woke up enough to begin thrusting up at the man.  Her efforts
almost dislodged him and he expertly dropped his weight on her, pinning her
to the couch with his cock, his chest pressing her breasts almost flat. 
Then he gave jackrabbit thrusts that brought him over the edge and
delivered his sperm into her pussy in staccato jets that made her cervical
lips a spunky mess as they dipped and opened with her orgasm, sucking his
offering into her young womb.  His cum rushed through them and into her
center where, if she'd been on her new birth control pill prescription long
enough, there would be no egg waiting.

   ====

   Up in the bedroom Claire had just finished her fourth orgasm since
spreading her legs for her son.  He was still happily lunging into her, a
smile on his face, his young arms still strong enough to hold him up so his
mother could get the air in her lungs to stay conscious for another orgasm.

   Finally she pushed at his chest.

   "Can you cum again, baby?" she asked breathlessly.

   "I don't think so," he replied calmly.  "It feels really good, but I
don't have that...feeling."

   "Then you'd better stop or I'm not going to be able to get out of bed,"
she said somewhat sadly.

   He started to pull out and her hands slapped on his ass, stopping him.

   "I loved this, sweetheart, but you know we can't do this a lot...don't
you?"

   He eased back in and kissed her chin.  "I know," he said.  "I feel lucky
for just this one time."

   "It's not that I don't love this," she said, squeezing his cock with her
pussy muscles once more.  "I'm not on any birth control and I think Chuck
and I are going to try to get me pregnant right away when we get married.
So we don't want YOU making a little brother or sister in me...right?"

   Bobby's eyes went unfocused and he thrust into his mother again.

   "I came in you tonight," he said unnecessarily.

   "I know, baby.  I wanted you to.  Just this once," she cooed back at
him.

   "You want to know something funny?" he asked, his thrusting getting
harder.

   "What darling?" asked his mother.

   "I think I could cum again now." He looked down at her, his eyes bright.

   "OK baby," she sighed, pulling him down for a kiss.

   During that kiss he sent reinforcements to his first load of sperm
troopers, who were actively seeking the egg they'd been sent to find and
fertilize.  If they had failed, his backup swimmers were determined not to.

   ==========================

   Back in the living room Chuck had rolled off the couch, pulling Lori
with him so that she was draped across him like a blanket of flesh, her
arms and legs hanging limply, her ear turned to his chest.  She could hear
his heartbeat as it thundered under her ear.

   "I'll never tease you again," she sighed.  "I can't take it when I tease
you."

   "You did just fine, princess," said her soon-to-be stepfather.  "But I
don't think you should tease me either.  It's not ladylike.  And I think it
bothers Bobby."

   "I love Bobby," she said.

   "I know you do.  And loving him means disciplining yourself."

   "He's upstairs fucking Mommy," she argued.

   "And how do you feel about that?" he asked.

   "His sperm is for me," she said firmly.

   "There you go.  I imagine the thought of my sperm soaking your sweet
little pussy isn't too happy a thing for him to contemplate either."

   "But I liked doing this with you," she whined.

   "We can do it once in a while, when they're horny for each other, like
tonight.  But the rest of the time we should behave ourselves.  Deal?"

   "Deal," she sighed.

   ===========================

   Epilogue

   Rod's secretary had already hired a realtor to assist Claire in house
hunting, and a suitable house was found within three days.  With the raise
Chuck would be getting, and the substantial raise Claire already had, the
new house, while much more upscale than what she was used to, was easily
affordable.  It had four bedrooms and three baths, with a formal dining
room and huge kitchen.

   Chuck, being much younger than the former coach, was able to relate with
his new players on a level that perked them up.  He let them learn from
their mistakes and they soon found that his tactics led to scoring, which
they liked a lot.  He was tougher than the previous coach about accepting
gifts, and made it almost impossible to slide through a class, but that
only made the majority of players who never would have gotten gifts and who
studied their asses off anyway because they knew there would be no NFL
contract for them...happier.  Now the playing field had been leveled.  And,
Coach Bondurant had this habit of putting second string players in
unexpectedly, and running odd plays, which gave the opposing defense
absolute fits.  The word spread and people began to want to play for him.

   The coach's new bride was already two months pregnant as she walked down
the aisle to put her ring on his finger.  He was as proud as he could be
and she was smiling so widely that her face hurt.  That baby, when he was
born, looked suspiciously like her son's baby pictures.  But then he looked
an awful lot like Chuck's baby pictures, too.

   Lori's new pills worked better than she deserved them to.  She and Bobby
set up housekeeping in one of the four bedrooms and she stayed on her pills
long enough to get through her junior year in college.  She stopped taking
them as her graduation present to her brother.

   When he found out, he was insatiable, so much so that, as he used his
engineering degree to get a job with a defense contractor, Lori basically
just stopped having periods for a few years.  When both extra bedrooms were
filled to capacity with babies, they finally started looking for their own
place.

   The same realtor found them a house only three doors down from Claire's.

   Now there's a crowd of four, five and six year olds running between the
houses, cousins who play with each other all the time.  Uncle Chuck comes
to visit Lori once in a while, and Uncle Bobby comes around every so often
to fix something, usually in Claire's bedroom.

   They're a happy family, all in all, the blues they once experienced are
now far away in the past.  That's a good place for the blues.


   


  
chaperone_blues_complete