MFF inc tv

Normally I would never enter my daughter's room without knocking; at twenty years old she's a grown woman and entitled to her privacy; but the door was slightly ajar, and some instinct made me just push it open and walk right in. So I suppose I got the surprise I deserved.

Zoë was sitting on the bed with a complete stranger, both were sideways on to me and didn't notice me enter the room at first. Zoë had a lipstick in one hand, and was applying it to the other girl's mouth. 

Suddenly Zoë noticed me, and stood up, scattering make-up on the floor. She looked terrified to see me. The stranger also turned towards me, and I realised this was not one of Zoë's friends, but my own son, Scott! I stood there, stunned into silence, as I took in his appearance. He was wearing a shoulder length blonde wig; Zoë had made him up, and I have to say he looked stunning. But what shocked me most was the fact that he was wearing only a pair of Zoë's pale-blue silky panties, which were being strained to the limit by a huge erection!

At first I couldn't speak, I was so shocked by what I was seeing. Shocked, and I have to admit, aroused. Eventually I found my voice.

"You've made him up beautifully," I said to my daughter. "You look... lovely, Scott." I added, in a hoarse whisper. 

"You're not going to kill us, then?" Zoë asked, her voice trembling.

"No," I replied, still shaken. "But I think we'd better finish the job off, don't you?" They both looked at me, uncertainly. 

"Let's go to my room. My stuff might fit him better."

Once we were in my bedroom, Zoë and Scott started to relax. They realised I wasn't angry with them, but they were still unsure about what was going to happen. 

"Come and help me find something," I said to Zoë. She started rummaging through the wardrobe, while I searched my drawers for a pair of stockings. 

"How about these?" I said, holding up a pair of very sheer black hold-up stockings. Scott nodded, eagerly. His panties were bulging nicely again.

"Mum, I don't think those knickers really suit him, " said Zoë. "Have you got something a bit... sexier?"

I rifled my underwear drawer again and came up with a pair of lacy white panties and a matching bra. Meanwhile Zoë had picked out a white silky blouse, matching it with a short blue pleated skirt.

Now for the awkward bit. I knelt in front of Scott and pulled his panties down. His cock sprang free, and I felt tiny drops of precum splash my face. Scott stepped out of Zoë's pants and allowed me to put the white pair on him. All the time, my son's erect manhood was bobbing about only inches from my face. What the hell. I gave it a quick kiss and grinned up at him. The look on his face was indescribable. I pulled the panties up tightly around his crotch, his precum immediately soaking through the flimsy material. Zoë hadn't seen me kiss Scott's cock, and I wondered what her reaction would have been. Maybe the two of them had been a lot further; I really had no idea what they might have been up to together, but thinking about it gave me a warm tingle between my thighs.

Zoë and I finished dressing Scott. When we were done, he looked really gorgeous. With the bra stuffed full of tissues, he looked very convincing. You wouldn't have known from a first glance that he wasn't what he appeared to be. I wouldn't even have recognised him as my son!

"You've got some great stuff here, mum," said Zoë. "Can I try some of it on?"

"Why not?" I said. "We might as well all get dressed up!"

Zoë quickly stripped down to her bra and pants, totally unselfconscious, making me wonder again about how intimate she had been with Scott. She looked so damn sexy in her black underwear, I found myself being aroused by the sight of my daughter's body.

Zoë went back to her room to find one of her own tops, and I turned to face my son. I pulled him to me and put my hand under his skirt, allowing my fingertips to brush against his cock. The feel of his hot, hard member wrapped in soft white lace brought a flush to my face, my breasts, my groin.

Zoë came back wearing a skimpy pink top, with tiny straps that didn't quite cover her bra. She must have seen where my hand was, but she made no comment. Returning to that almost bottomless drawer, Zoë fished out a pair of black stockings and a suspender belt. She completed her ensemble with a very short, very tight black skirt that I hadn't been able to get into for years.

So now it was my turn. Zoë sat on the bed next to Scott, and I noticed her hand rested nonchalantly on his stocking-clad thigh. I stood in front of them and performed a slow striptease. What I was wearing wasn't very sexy, leggings and a jumper, but I put on a bit of a show, and they were soon giggling helplessly at the sight of their old mother acting like a sexy young tart. 

Their laughter soon subsided once I stood naked in front of them, and they looked at me thoughtfully. Zoë's hand had disappeared under her brother's skirt, and I knew she must be touching his cock. It felt so good to be naked, especially in front of these sexy young people, my own children! It gave me such a buzz I felt dizzy, and for a moment I thought I would pass out.

As I ran my hands over my belly and thighs, Scott's eyes were fixed on my groin, his face red, drops of sweat on his forehead. Zoë's hand was writhing under his skirt, making him grunt occasionally.

I moved my hands higher, cupping my breasts, pushing them together, trapping the nipples between my fingers, squeezing hard. God, that felt so good!

I moved closer to Scott, taking his head in my hands and holding him tight against my belly. I felt his hands on my hips, moving down over my thighs and back up again to my ass. My own son, my eighteen-year-old son, was touching my naked body, groping me, stirring feelings deep inside me. Scott moved his head down lower and I could feel his wet, slippery tongue probing me. 

Zoë got up and stood behind me, reaching round to take my breasts in her hands, nuzzling my neck, nibbling my lobes, breathing gently in my ear. Scott was lapping at my pussy, his technique was not very refined, but it didn't need to be, I felt so hot and horny I couldn't have stopped myself climaxing if I had wanted to. I leaned back against Zoë and she held me tight as my orgasm washed over me. Scott leaned back, flushed and panting, a prominent bulge lifting his skirt up.

I indicated to Scott to take his knickers off, and he did so. He pulled his skirt up around his waist and I got a good look at his hard tool, gloriously long and fat and smooth-skinned. Zoë got on the bed with him; she had stripped completely naked, and as she knelt between her brother's legs, her pert round cheeks pointed in my direction, I felt weak at the knees. 

I slumped down into an armchair and watched as my daughter began to give her brother an expert blowjob. She started by licking and sucking his balls, taking them into her mouth. Then she licked up and down each side of his shaft, circling the base of his cock with thumb and forefinger, cupping his balls with her other hand. Lowering her mouth onto him, Zoë clamped her lips around the thick ridge of his glans, sucking and slurping away, obviously enjoying it immensely.

Almost without realising it, I had spread my legs and was rubbing my little button furiously, bringing myself to another orgasm. On the bed, Zoë was wanking Scott into her mouth, pinning his hips to the bed, not letting him move as she sucked hard, drawing his cum from his balls.

Abruptly Scott stiffened and grunted, and Zoë's cheeks bulged as he shot his load into her mouth. Thick, creamy-white cum dribbled past her lips and down her chin. Zoë squeezed his sac gently, milking him of every last drop.

As I recovered from my own climax, I heard a car outside.

"Look out, it's your father," I jumped to my feet and looked out of the window. Sure enough, there was Brian getting out of the car.

"Let's go to my room and clean you up," Zoë said to Scott, her speech slightly slurred by her mouthful of cum. I quickly got dressed and went downstairs to greet my husband.

As I kissed him hello, it occurred to me to tell my husband what his family had been up to while he was at work. Not just yet though. Maybe next time.

* * * * *

Saturday afternoon. My husband Brian was away, our son Scott was playing rugby. Zoë and I were bored.

"Mum?"

"Yes, sweetheart?" I replied, not looking up from my book.

"When Scott comes home..." she left the sentence hanging.

"If you like." We both knew what we were talking about. Scott was our grown-up, real-life, dressing-up doll. He wouldn't complain, he never did.

When Scott got home he slung his bag into a corner of the kitchen, scattering dried mud everywhere. I glared at him.

"Bathroom," I snarled.

"What?" he replied, in the surly tone that comes so naturally to eighteen-year-old boys. It's funny, most of the time he's a typical teenager, rude, crude and selfish; but after Zoë and I have been to work on him, he becomes the perfect little lady.

"You heard," I said, dragging him upstairs.

Zoë had already run the bath. She was sitting on the side, idly dangling her hand in the water. Zoë and I were both wearing just t-shirts, in preparation for what was to come. We knew it was going to be messy.

Scott waited for us to leave, in vain.

"Come on," Zoë snapped. "We've seen it all before."

Scott started to undress, grumbling all the while, uncomfortable with us watching him. But Zoë was right, we had both seen Scott's lovely thick manhood. He had nothing to be embarrassed about.

Once Scott was naked, Zoë stood up to allow him into the bath.

"Now then, darling," I said, with relish. "Mummy's going to get you nice and clean. All over!"

I didn't think a human being could get any redder, but my son managed it, somehow. Zoë handed me a bar of soap and a sponge, and I started working up a lather. I sat on the edge of the bath and began soaping Scott's back and shoulders, working my way round to his chest. He had a lovely smooth body, the only problem being his hairy legs. But we intended to do something about that.

"Stand up," Zoë said. Scott obeyed, meekly. Picking up another sponge, Zoë started soaping his legs. We were both working towards his groin, from opposite directions. I got there first, rubbing all around his beautiful meaty cock, which had already reached the horizontal, while Zoë lathered between his legs and around his balls. We continued to soap him until I sensed we might be approaching a critical point.

"Better stop now, darling," I advised Zoë. She took the shower attachment and hosed him down; seemingly fascinated by the way the water ran off the end of his erection.

"OK, out you get," I ordered. We towelled him off, taking care not to get him too excited. By the time he was dry, his cock was drooping again.

"Right, what's next?" he asked. I sensed he was more relaxed now, and actually looking forward to whatever we had planned for him. He soon lost his enthusiasm when he saw the razor in Zoë's hand.

"What are you gonna do with that?" he asked, uncertainly.

"Oh, don't be a dipshit," she replied. "We're hardly going to cut your cock off, are we?" My daughter, the perfect lady.

We quickly lathered Scott's legs with shaving foam, working up from his feet. Once again, when I got to his balls and cock I couldn't resist playing with them, coating his genitals with that creamy foam, working my fingers round between his cheeks. He drew in a sharp breath as I slipped a finger into his ass.

"Mum," he protested.

"What's the matter, sweetie, don't you like that?" I asked, innocently sliding my finger deeper. He moaned.

Zoë and I started shaving Scott's legs. When we got to the groin area, Scott turned pale, but Zoë told him not be a wimp. He kept very still as I shaved his balls and cock. Then we made him bend over and spread his cheeks while Zoë finished off around his asshole with an electric razor.

"Good boy!" Zoë cried, as she finished, giving Scott's ass a firm slap. "Now mummy is going to give you your reward."

Zoë bent over to empty the bath and clean it. Hitching her t-shirt up around her waist, she revealed her bare backside, as perfectly round and smooth as a peach. I positioned Scott behind her, only inches away. Standing behind him and slightly to one side, I began to masturbate him.

Several times while I was wanking him, Scott reached out to touch his sister, but I slapped his wrists and he stopped. The bath was clean now, sparkling like a new pin, but Zoë stayed leaning over, swaying her hips from side to side, taunting and teasing her brother.

Scott's prick was rock hard now, engorged with blood, as I wanked him faster and faster. Suddenly he gave a loud grunt, and thick white strings of cum were spurting from his cock, all over Zoë's ass. I wiped up the last drops, and showed Scott my hand, covered in his sticky mess. Then I lovingly licked my fingers clean one by one, taking them into my mouth, sucking them as I would a cock, maintaining eye-contact with my son all the time. 

Sending Scott off to my room, Zoë and I started cleaning up. We showered together, as we like to do, but sadly we had no time to play. We had plans...

When we got to my room, Scott was sitting on the edge of the bed, still naked. He had a pair of my panties wrapped around his cock, and was wanking furiously.

"Naughty boy," Zoë admonished him crossly. Snatching the panties from him, she roughly slapped his hands away from his cock.

"Are you going to make him up, Zo?" I asked.

"Yes, as long as he behaves himself," she replied, taking Scott by the hand and dragging him to her room.

About half an hour later, Scott returned alone. Zoë had done a marvellous job with his make-up, classy and understated, not at all tarty. She had managed to soften the lines of his face, making him look very feminine indeed. He was also wearing a very natural-looking blonde wig. I made a mental note to ask Zoë where she had got it.

"Well, darling, you look gorgeous," I told him. "Now, we must find you something to wear."

I myself was already dressed; a white basque, g-string and stockings, under a slutty red PVC mini-dress, the kind that zips up at the front; all finished off with a pair of red knee-length boots. I had found Scott some underwear, black lacy panties and bra, but I couldn't make up my mind about the rest of his outfit. At that point, Zoë returned, looking breathtakingly beautiful, as she always does. Her breasts were covered by a minuscule white band of material, leaving her stomach bare; her black skirt came to just above the knee, slit almost to the hip; no tights or stockings. Wondering if she was wearing any panties, I slid my hand under her skirt. We both giggled uncontrollably as my hand brushed her pubic hair.

Scott was sitting on the bed, in his panties and bra. I found some tissues to pad out his bra, while Zoë searched the wardrobe for something he could wear.

When Zoë had finished dressing him, Scott looked ravishing. A black sleeveless, polo neck; a creamy-white skirt to just above the knee; and black tights. 

The only problem was the size of his feet. Fortunately, at the back of the wardrobe there was a pair of black knee-length boots I bought years ago, miles too big for me, but I had never got around to taking them back to the shop. Scott was just able to squeeze his feet into them.

When Scott was finished, I stood in front of him. Taking his face in my hands, I pressed my lips to his, forcing my tongue into his mouth. He responded, eagerly, and I could feel his hands running over my body. I reached under his skirt and gave him a leisurely rub. Zoë's hand joined mine, and we stroked and caressed his cock while taking turns to kiss him and each other. Scott's hands were all over us, and I could feel his cock starting to twitch. Time to cool things down!

"OK, ladies, time to hit the town."

A look of panic spread over Scott's face.

"No way am I going out like this!" he protested. 

"If you do this for us," Zoë whispered in his ear, "just imagine what we'll do for you..."

As soon as we got outside, Scott started having second thoughts. This was the first time he had been out dressed as a woman. But he calmed down when he saw the taxi waiting for us; I think he realised he had to bluff it out, or the driver would have known there was something strange going on.

Zoë and I led Scott to the taxi, trying our best not to laugh out loud. It was almost too much to bear when I saw the taxi-driver eyeing Scott's legs! If only he knew...

"Mum, this is going too far!" Scott whispered in my ear, as we got into the car. I looked out of the window and pretended not to hear.

"Where to, love?" the driver asked. I told him to take us to a club I knew of.

By the time we got there, Scott was more relaxed.

"Just keep your mouth shut," I warned him. "You might look the part, but your voice will give you away. We'll have a few drinks, maybe a couple of dances, then home. OK?"

Scott nodded. It was still early, so we didn't have to queue to get into the club. I told the girls to find a table while I went to the bar. The club was dark, but more importantly, the music was loud, so if anyone spoke to Scott he could just shrug and smile sweetly. As long as he didn't shout.

As I was ordering the drinks, I noticed the barman looking down my dress. Nice to know I could still provoke a response. He wasn't bad looking either, tall, fit-looking, nice ass. I wondered about his cock, picturing it in my mind; long, thick, veiny, rock hard. I imagined how it might feel in my hand, or my mouth. Or my pussy.

My imagination was starting to run away with me when I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I was nearly deafened by a raucous laugh in my ear.

"Well, hello darling," said my friend Sandra, much too loudly. "Fancy seeing you here. On your own, or did you bring the old man?"

Sandra is a lovely person, we have been great friends, and occasional lovers, for many years. But she has known Scott all his life, and I realised that if she saw him she would recognise him. But there were three drinks in front of me, so I couldn't say I was on my own.

"I'm here with Zoë," I replied. "And... her friend." Too late, I saw the gleam in Sandra's eyes. She is very highly sexed, and has always fancied Zoë. There was no polite way I could get rid of her, so I headed off to where Scott and Zoë were sitting, with Sandra following closely.

Sandra and Zoë greeted each other warmly, I'm sure there were tongues involved.

"Sandra, sweetheart, this is Zoë's friend... Shelley." I said, feeling pleased with my deception. Sandra looked 'Shelley' up and down with a predatory eye. Scott just smiled back, giving a little wave. Good, he was catching on.

We all sat down, and chatted for a while, as much as the music would let us. 'Shelley' kept her mouth firmly shut, thankfully Sandra didn't address her directly. But I needn't have worried. Sandra leaned across to me and whispered.

"It's OK, I know who Zoë's friend is," she said, managing to look smug and horny at the same time.

"You do?" I asked, not really surprised.

"Of course, do you really think I don't know a man when I see one?" she said, getting to her feet. Before I could stop her, Sandra was dragging 'Shelley' to her feet and leading her on to the dance floor. Zoë and I looked at each other helplessly.

"Sandra knows," I shouted discreetly at Zoë. She shrugged.

When Sandra and Shelley had had enough, they came back and sat down.

"This is getting boring now," Sandra yelled. "Let's go to my place."

It was a relief to get out of there. I realised the pounding music had given me a headache, but I also felt a new kind of exhilaration. It was like all my inhibitions were gone. Somehow I felt that dressing Scott up had liberated me, by going beyond the bounds of normal behaviour. Now anything was possible.

Sandra called a cab to take us to her place. Sitting in the back of the car next to Scott, I absent-mindedly rested my hand on the inside of his thigh. I could feel his hardness through the material of his tights and panties. Sandra, sitting on my other side, had her hand between my legs. 

When we got back to Sandra's, she dragged me into the kitchen to make some coffee.

'So?' she squealed. 'Are you actually going to do it?'

'What?' I asked, being deliberately dense.

'Fuck your own son of course! You lucky, dirty cow!' Sandra was so envious I wouldn't have been surprised if she had literally turned green.

'Well, we will just have to wait and see,' I replied, ducking as Sandra made to throw a coffee mug at my head.

We went back into the living room. Zoë had helped Scott take off his boots, which had been killing him all evening. I felt a momentary pang of guilt for making him wear them, but I reminded myself how lucky he was. Or would be, soon.

'Mum, can I take these tights off now? I'm sweating like a pig' Scott whined. 

'Well that's not very lady-like, is it?' I retorted. 'Take them off, if you must.' Once again, Zoë had to help him. All this time Sandra was unsuccessfully trying to stifle her laughter. There was something else in her eyes as well, the unmistakable glint of lust. Especially when Zoë didn't stop with the tights, but carried on and removed Scott's skirt and top. Scott didn't complain, his body was soaked with sweat. With hindsight I realised I should have found him something a bit more comfortable to wear. Oh well, never mind.

Eventually Scott stood in the middle of the room, in just bra and panties. He was clearly a boy dressed as a girl, but a very feminine looking one, despite his rugby-player's shoulders. 

I excused myself and made my way to the bathroom, where I removed my panties and put them in my bag. When I returned to the living room, Scott was sitting on the couch with Sandra and Zoë on either side, running their hands over his body, caressing the inside of his strong thighs. The flimsy material of Scott's panties was being strained to the limit by his erection. I sat opposite the couch and parted my legs slightly, pulling my dress up to allow Scott a good look at my dripping wet pussy.

Sandra stood and looked down at Scott, breathing heavily. She suddenly reached down and tore roughly at the waistband of his panties, ripping them in her eagerness to get them off. Scott's engorged cock sprang free. I found myself kneeling on the floor between his legs, my gaze focussed on the layer of precum coating his glans.

My tongue was reaching out, almost with a will of it's own. A musky smell filled my nostrils as I rolled my tongue slowly around the head of Scott's cock, lapping up his precious fluid. I encircled the base of his shaft with one hand while I cupped his balls with the other. Sandra and Zoë were watching intently, not moving, not making a sound. Lowering my head further I took my son's penis into my mouth. The feeling was exquisite, as ever, but this time was indescribably different, this was my own son! I started to suck with a steady rhythm as I gently squeezed Scott's balls. I lost track of time, all that existed for me was my son's beautiful cock between my lips. Gradually I could feel his balls start to tighten and I quickened my rhythm, drawing him towards a climax, squeezing and sucking faster and faster, until Scott gave a low moan and his warm sticky fluid flooded my mouth.

As Scott's eruption subsided I took his softening cock from between my lips, giving it one last kiss. I turned to Zoë and she placed my lips on hers, allowing her to share her brother's cum.

Sandra was staring at us, an unfathomable expression on her face. In her place I would have been wondering 'what next?'

