Anne opened the front door and led the way to the big kitchen at the back of the farmhouse.
I’d met her two weeks earlier. We’d fucked urgently on our first meeting and no less urgently every day since. We’d fucked at hers and, more usually, in the back of my Mark II Transit. In the back of the Transit I had a mattress and blankets in the hope that one day . . .
And eventually my hope materialised, in the form of Anne. It was in the back of that van that Anne started to teach me what women needed.
Hers was a large family farmhouse with a court yard surrounded by the usual outbuildings. We used the enormous traditional farmhouse kitchen. The back of her house was not overlooked by anybody or anything, just acres of crops growing in the fields. In the kitchen, on the occasion of our first fuck at hers, Anne had made it plain that she loved being naked when she fucked. As she is utterly stunning dressed or naked I was most eager to help her strip off. She then stripped me off. Once naked we fucked on the kitchen table, over the kitchen table, up against the wall beside the big fridge and, what was to become our favourite on a cold winters day, leaning against the Aga.
As you will imagine, on that particular Saturday morning when Anne asked if I would like to go to hers, I agreed without hesitation. My cock must have heard because within minutes it was like a rod of iron, as would any eighteen year old’s cock when it expected to be fucking a beautiful, naked blonde within thirty minutes!
If it got hard almost instantly you can imagine how rapidly it deflated when Anne pushed open the kitchen door.
“Hello Mum, this is Martin.”
Anne’s mother was standing at the sink doing some hand washing – her smalls judging by the items on the draining board. She was a little taller than Anne, maybe an inch, making her all of five feet two. From the back view her hair was the same long, blonde, slightly dishevelled delight that was her daughter’s. She wore a T shirt that had long since seen better days, it only just reached her waist, and a pair of tight Levi’s that might have been painted on emphasising another delicious feature that her daughter had inherited – her bum! Very, very stroke-able. I hadn’t learned about fucking a delicious arse at that time. My cock twitched more than a little as my mind enjoyed the thought of fucking her. Eighteen year olds do that kind of thing – dream!
She turned to face me.
“Hello Martin,” she said peeling off her yellow Marigolds, “So nice to see you. Anne has told me so much about you.”
I turned to Anne,
“This is your big sister not your mother, right?” I casino siteleri accused.
“Nope.” she replied with a beaming smile, “that’s my Mum alright. Known her since I was born.”
They do say that if you want to know what a girl will look like when she is older, look at her mother now. Well I looked at Anne’s mother. Hair? As dishevelled from the front as it was from behind – just like her daughter’s. Eyes? The most beautiful blue – just like her daughter’s. A beautiful, perfect face totally untouched by make-up of any kind – just like her daughter’s. The T shirt hid her upper body from careful scrutiny but the swellings were enough to show that they too were delicious and that she wasn’t wearing a bra – just like her daughter. In retrospect Anne’s had a little filling out to do at that time. The bottom of the T shirt was wet due to her doing her smalls, it stuck to her flat belly enticingly. I’ll swear that the jeans were painted on, especially around her crotch and my gaze probably lingered longer there than it should have done under the circumstances. Age? Twenty five? Twenty six? Max! Very, very fuckable – just like her daughter.
Common sense told me that she wasn’t twenty five or six. I did a quick bit of mental arithmetic. Her mum was married to her dad before she was born so thirty seven minimum!
“She’s kidding?” I suggested tentatively.
“No kidding. Flatterer. I married Bob, her Dad, when I was twenty. Anne was born two years later. I was Anne’s age when she was born.” she replied with a delighted smile that matched her daughter’s. “Sadly Bob died when she was five. His tractor rolled into a ditch.”
More rapid calculations. Anne’s mother was twenty two when she gave birth to Anne. Ergo, Anne is at least twenty two, give or take a few months. and her mother is at least forty four!
“I’m a toy boy!”
“Do you mind?” asked my girlfriend.
“You kiddin’ me? No way do I mind! Most beautiful girl on the planet and you pick me? What’s not to love about that?”
“So!” declared her mother, “You’re a toy boy once over with a strong possibility of being a toy boy twice over. What do you think of that young man?”
I looked at my girlfriend. I was more than a bit confused.
“Mum and I share everything,” she said, “Think you can manage the two of us?”
I swallowed hard. Looked from one to the other then grinned like a cheshire cat.
“I’m game if you are.”
“Right, glad that’s sorted,” said mother, now that’s enough about us let’s have a proper look at you.”
With that she subjected me to careful examination. I felt as if I were a piece of meat in Mr. Bone’s butcher’s shop. This feeling canlı casino rapidly turned to one of being up for auction in a slave market.
“Nice hair, good teeth and smile,” she observed totally ignoring me, “his darker blonde goes well with your lighter blonde and the eyes are so light blue they are like a personal summers day.”
I preened myself internally. Hey! This wasn’t nearly so bad.
“Nice friendly face. Quite good looking really. Difficult to deny him anything?” she asked her daughter.
“Yes, Mum, very difficult.” replied Anne dutifully.
“Good strong arms, looks like good legs under those jeans.” she continued, “Turn around!” This last an obvious instruction directed at me.
I turned obediently – ‘Only quite good looking?’ I was now enjoying myself despite the ‘quite good looking’ bit.
“Nice wide shoulders. He’s fit, girl!” she announced. “Good stamina?”
“Lasts longer than a box of Duracell batteries, Mum. He plays rugby. Looks good in shorts. Strips well. Looks great naked.” came the reply.
‘What???’ I’m thinking, it’s more like a couple of girls discussing their latest boyfriends than a mother being introduced to her daughter’s latest toy. I wriggled my bum provocatively. Whatever was going on, I’d decided that I wasn’t going to stop anybody’s fun.
“Nice bum,” Anne’s Mother observed, “turn around again.”
I followed instructions without hesitation. What next?
What next? … I’ll tell you what next!
“Right!” said Anne’s Mother forcibly, “As the Peahens said to the Peacock, enough messing about, let’s see what’s been keeping my daughter happy these last coupla weeks. Show us yer cock!”
My mouth must have dropped open in shock because the next thing she said was…
“What? You think sex is a taboo subject? Only happens behind closed doors or very secluded places. And a girl’s mother certainly shouldn’t bring the matter up? Hey! my girl’s going on twenty three. She can fuck who she pleases with my blessing.”
I sort of gaped, mumbled and definitely got a red face…
“Well,” I stammered, “it’s not that usual.” I ventured.
Anne stepped up close behind me. I could feel her stretching up to whisper in my ear.
“There’s no taboos here,” she said, “If you need telling off I’ll be the one to do it, not my Mother. Now, let’s show her why I’ve been so happy these last two weeks.”
She put her arms around my waist. One hand went to my belt the other to my crotch where she started to stroke her hand up and down my rapidly hardening cock. While one hand fumbled awkwardly with my belt, something that had never been a problem before, the other deftly brought kaçak casino my cock to a raging hard. With the belt, button and zip finally undone Anne moved her hand inside my jeans and continued to stroke my cock while trying to work my jeans over my hips.
“I can do that,” declared Anne’s Mother stepping forward and kneeling in front of me.
“What beautiful thighs,” she exclaimed as she struggled to pull the heavy denim over them.
“I told you he stripped well,” confirmed Anne whilst still working her magic on my cock.
As Anne’s Mother worked the jeans over my feet and off Anne’s hand slipped inside my Y fronts, (this was all a long time ago) where she returned to the job in hand as it were. With her hand laid out flat she gently rubbed the palm up and down the length effectively nearly hiding the contents as her Mother started the battle to get my Y fronts off.
“Nice balls,” she said cupping the full sac in one hand while the other continued to wrestle my pants over my calf muscles.
They didn’t even get a mention.
“Nice and full, just how we like them.”
While I was concentrating on what was going on below my belly button Anne had been using her spare hand to undo my shirt buttons. As my pants joined my jeans she peeled off my shirt and threw it to join the small pile of clothes.
I was naked! My socks and shoes having come off with my jeans. A beautiful woman was kneeling at my feet and her equally beautiful daughter was stroking my cock. A young man’s dream cum true and I wasn’t going to pinch myself just in case it was a dream.
Anne moved her index finger to form a circle with her thumb, placed the circle at the top of my cock and slowly worked it down until it was round the root.
Her Mother looked up at me, straight into my eyes, and licked her lips. My cock was straining hard against my belly. Anne’s hand started to move forcing my cock from the straining vertical to the almost painful horizontal. I looked down and watched intently as Anne’s Mother’s lips encircled my glistening bell end. She took the top half of my cock delicately into her mouth just as Anne slid her hand up the shaft. Sucked and wanked by two different women! Just over two weeks ago I had never even had a girls mouth around my cock much less shot my load into it. Anne had soon changed that and taught me that, if I wanted a blow job, I had to eat her out as well. As if reading my mind…
“If you spunk in my Mother’s mouth,” Anne whispered in my ear, “the same rules apply. You’ll have to eat her out then fuck her!” she added threateningly.
Instinctively I pushed my cock forwards and put my hands on Anne’s Mother’s head. I heard her first moan of pleasure. Anne liked to be face-fucked and it seemed that her Mother did also.
Three of us were now working towards filling her mouth with my spunk.
There’s more to cum if you want it?