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I apologize for taking so long to get this chapter finished. I have been extremely ill and did not feel much like writing. I’m better now. Hope you enjoy reading about Bobby taking his mother’s anal cherry.
“L. U.?” Mrs. Brubaker queried her daughter as she pushed the front door open.
“Huh?” Becky asked.
“L. U.,” April shot back. “In the van, you blamed me and your father for what happened to you at ‘L. U.'”
“Oh, that,” Becky said as her mother closed the door behind them. “Just a nickname we had for the school; ‘Lesbian University.’ Most girls I knew were munching carpets long before they arrived there or they began doing it shortly afterwards. ‘Juiceless Lucy’. . .uh, Mrs. Leonard, broke a lot of them in herself.”
“Was she your first?”
Becky’s face wrinkled in disgust. “That dried up old cow? Not on my horniest day would I let her touch me.”
“So. . .,”April Brubaker mused, “I take it that is part of the reason why. . .”
“All of the reason why,” Becky interrupted. “She did the same to three other girls while I was there.”
Mrs. Brubaker, her face flushed with anger, went into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and pulled out a couple of energy drinks. She gave one to her daughter and sat down at the kitchen table. “That bitch!” she exclaimed after opening her drink and swallowing about half of it in just a couple of gulps. “Something should be done about her.”
Becky sat down, pulled her chair closer to the elder Brubaker woman, and placed her hand on top of her mother’s. “No need to worry about it, Mother. I’m kind of glad she expelled me.”
April Brubaker pulled her hand away and caressed her daughter’s face. “I am, also, dear,” she said. “But, what am I to do? I want you to get a good education.”
“I will, Mother. Trust me. I’ll get a job and pay for it myself.”
“You’ll do no such thing, Becky. I’ll take care of it one way or the other.” April sighed. “It may take a while, though.”
Becky sipped her energy drink. “I thought Dad had bunches of money.”
“He does,” April told her daughter. “But it will be a while before I can get him to part with any of it.” She paused, noticed the questioning look on Becky’s face and continued. “He won’t be coming home. Not anymore.”
“Why?” Becky asked.
The next half hour plus was spent with Becky remaining silent while her mother told her about her dad.
“That bastard!” Becky said when her mother had finished talking. “How could he do this to you? How long has he been running around on you?”
April sighed; a lonely sound that made Becky want to hold her mother and never let her go. “Since we first learned I was pregnant with you.”
“You are going to divorce him, aren’t you Mother?”
Mrs. Brubaker nodded. “You bet your ass I am,” she said. “And I’m going to take every fucking cent I can get my hands on.”
Becky gasped. “I’ve never heard you talk like this before, Mother. What’s going on, anyway?”
April smiled at her daughter. “It’s the new me.”
“From what I heard last night,” Becky said. “I’m sure all this crap with Dad hasn’t completely soured you against men.”
“No, it hasn’t,” April told her daughter. “As a matter of fact, it’s opened up a part of me I never knew existed.” She eyed Becky suspiciously. “Besides me moaning and wiggling around from the tongue lashing you gave me, what did you hear?”
Becky laughed and, in a higher-pitched voice than normal, she said, “Oh, Bobby, Bobby, Bobby. Fuck me, Bobby. Fuck me like you did that first night.”
April Brubaker’s face turned a deep crimson as she cleared her throat. “I said all that?” she asked. When Becky nodded her head in the affirmative, she added, “I must have been out of my head.”
“Don’t worry, Mother,” Becky said. “I understand. I just hope that you won’t mind sharing him once in a while.”
“Sure,” Mrs. Brubaker said. “Why not?” Then she quickly added, “It’ll be up to him.”
Becky smiled. “Great!” she said. “I’ve been wanting him to break my cherry since fifth grade.”
It was April’s turn to laugh. “Fifth grade? Why, you hardly even knew boys existed back then.”
Becky bristled slightly. “I knew enough to realize that I wanted him to stick his little ‘thingy’ inside my hole. That’s all I thought about. But you kept chasing him off and calling him all those bad names.”
April stood and hugged her daughter. “I’m so sorry, Baby. I was a different person back then.”
“I know,” Becky said. “‘Back then,’ you could be a real bitch when you wanted.”
April stood and hugged her daughter, pressing her tits into the back of Becky’s neck. Feeling emboldened, Mrs. Brubaker filled her hands with Becky’s more than ample breasts. For the first time in her life, she was the aggressor; the pursuer and not the pursued. She wanted sex with a female and the thought of it being her own daughter she wanted to have sex with only heightened her desires. “Still can be,” she joked. “If I don’t get what I want.” She sucked Becky’s earlobe into her mouth.
Becky ataşehir escort stood, pushed the chair from between them and turned around. April’s hands fell to Becky’s hips. Before she could tighten her grip and pull her in close, the younger Brubaker woman had already closed the gap.
“Oh, Mother,” Becky moaned. The rest of her words became unintelligible when Mrs. Brubaker pressed her lips against her daughter’s. Hands roamed over every part of the two women’s bodies as April’s tongue was forced to retreat from Becky’s invading oral appendage.
First came the outer garments. In no time at all, they were standing before each other, clad only in bra and panties. Becky’s tits fairly jumped out of her bra when April unhooked the front strap and helped slide it down her daughter’s arms.
Mrs. Brubaker pulled her face from Becky’s and, like a guided missile, zeroed in on her daughter’s left nipple, fully encasing the bright pink bud and the surrounding areola between her lips.
Becky’s hands wandered aimlessly across her mother’s back; from her fleshy ass to her shoulders for a few moments before stopping at April’s bra strap. Working quickly, she unhooked the bra and pulled it off her mother, dropping it unceremoniously on the floor beside them. She then began to squeeze them lightly.
“It really makes me so damned horny,” Becky told her mother, “to feel your nipples get hard.”
April mumbled her reply, not yet willing to break the suction on her daughter’s breast.
Becky continued to massage April’s breasts, stopping every few seconds to roll her mother’s nipples between her thumbs and forefingers. Her breathing became erratic and soon, she was gasping for air. She gently pushed her mother’s mouth from her tit, looked her in the eye and said, “Let’s go to the bedroom, Mother. Might as well get comfortable.”
April Brubaker, already lost in that dream-like state of mind that comes with the knowledge that one is going to have pure, unadulterated sex, could only nod as Becky grabbed her by the hand, led her into the bedroom and gently pushed her down onto the bed. She scooted backwards until her head rested comfortably on her pillow and waited for her daughter to follow.
“My daughter!” April thought. “My daughter is about to make love to me.” She could still put a stop to this if she wanted. “But, do I want to?” she asked herself as she felt Becky settle beside her.
“Yes,” April told herself as Becky tenderly caressed her breast. “I have to stop. We have to stop.”
April Brubaker shuddered as the palm of Becky’s hand slid down her stomach and inside the waistband of her panties.
“Fuck it,” she whispered. “And especially fuck Herman and his two-timing whore.”
Becky’s fingers crawled through her mother’s pubic hairs at an agonizingly slow pace, tickling her, exciting her.
April’s heart raced with anticipation as she silently urged her daughter to continue. Desire mounted. Becky’s fingers reached their destination. They began to strum across her mother’s clit much like a master guitarist.
Like water being forced over a dam because it had no place else to go, April Brubaker’s passion spilled from her soul, filling every fiber of her being. Her body was alive and she didn’t care if it was her daughter, her own flesh and blood, who was providing the stimulation. Once again, she was being set free.
Mrs. Brubaker whimpered as she struggled to get her own panties off. She finally succeeded in getting them down to her ankles. She pulled one foot free and left the crumpled cotton briefs wrapped around her left ankle.
Becky’s hands were busy now. So was her mouth. She had risen to her knees and with the fingers of one hand still on her mother’s clit, she captured a breast in the other hand. Once again, she was nursing at her mother’s yearning, heaving bosom.
Becky’s mother cried out, expressing her need for Becky to continue. Her hips bucked and her back arched, throwing her pussy against Becky’s hand and temporarily dislodging her tit from her daughter’s mouth. Both women groaned in an expression of extreme disappointment.
When Becky’s lips once again found her mother’s nipple, April Brubaker threw her head back and said through gnashing teeth, “You make me hotter quicker than anyone I’ve ever known.”
By this time, Becky had slipped her middle finger inside April’s cunt and had her thumb resting on her mother’s clit. In a very uneven rhythm, Becky alternated between fucking her mother with her finger and diddling April’s clit.
Mrs. Brubaker pushed gently on Becky’s head. “I need you to kiss me down there,” she whispered seductively.
Becky, feigning ignorance, asked her mother, “What?”
April repeated herself. “I want you to kiss me down there.”
“Down where, Mother?”
“Where you have your hand.”
“Where is that, Mother?”
Finally realizing that she was being urged to talk dirty to her daughter, Mrs. Brubaker gulped a lungful of air. Words exited her mouth that, just a few short weeks ago, kadıköy escort would have made her blush profusely. Now, it only made her a bit uncomfortable to say them. She whispered her instructions, talking quickly.
“Oh, baby,” April said. “I want you to eat my pussy. I need to feel your tongue on my pussy. I want you to kiss my clit like you did last night.”
Becky smiled within herself. She was hoping this would be the day her mother would return the favor. But, she knew her mother was new to the idea of a woman satisfying another woman sexually. Becky Brubaker would count this as a labor of love. She wanted to bring her mother along the path of Sapphic love slowly so as not to spook her. Becky would give her as much time as she needed.
To Becky’s surprise, when she crawled into place to worship at the altar of her mother’s sex, April told her to turn around.
April Brubaker spoke softly, almost in a whisper. “Sixty-nine. I want to lick on you, too.”
Delighted at her mother’s change in attitude, Becky Brubaker gladly acquiesced. She spun around and, knees on the bed astraddle of April Brubaker’s head and slowly lowered her pussy onto the older woman’s face.
April Brubaker, not content to lay there and wait for a taste of her daughter’s nectar, quickly grabbed Becky by the hips and pulled Becky’s pussy down to her. Unsure of exactly what she should be doing, Mrs. Brubaker licked tentatively along the outer lips and then stopped.
Becky, her face already buried in her mother’s cunt, raised her head, steadied herself on her hands and knees and looked between her tits at her mother. “Just do what comes natural, Mother,” she said.
“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Mrs. Brubaker said.
“I know, Mother,” Becky said soothingly. “You liked what I did to you last night, didn’t you? And you remember how good it made you feel?”
April nodded her head and, when she did so, her nose rubbed against Becky’s hot, throbbing clit, causing the young woman to have a mini-climax. “But, baby, what if I don’t do it right? I want you to enjoy this, too.”
“Do to me what you remember about how I made love to you, Mother. You’ll do just fine.”
Encouraged by her daughter’s patience, April continued to hold Becky’s ass cheeks in her hands as if she were afraid the younger woman might float away from her; continued licking those fat young pussy lips. “I guess the best thing I can do,” she said to herself, “is to do to her exactly what she does to me.”
Just as Becky latched on to her clitoris, April Brubaker decided to satisfy her daughter first. She tightened her grip on Becky’s hips and rolled, finally coming to a stop with the daughter on the bottom.
“Oh, Mother!” Becky said in a rushed, high-pitched voice.
Mrs. Brubaker moved away from Becky and turned around to face her daughter.
“Did I upset you, Mother?” Becky asked.
April swiped at a strand of hair that had fallen over Becky’s eye and tucked it behind her ear. “No, Baby,” she said. “You didn’t upset me.”
“Then why did you move away?”
Mrs. Brubaker stared lovingly at her daughter’s breasts and licked her lips. She grabbed one of those sweet, young tits in her hand and stroked it lightly. “So firm, yet so pliable,” she said with a smile. “They’re just begging to be sucked.” She leaned in and pulled the tiny bud of flesh into her mouth.
Becky quickly placed the palm of her hand on the back of April’s head and held her mother close, her excitement and passion climbing higher and higher with every stroke of her mother’s tongue on her nipple. Each time Mrs. Brubaker tried to suck her nipple ever deeper into her mouth, Becky would whimper as her body twisted and wiggled on the bed in response.
Becky began to gasp. Her breasts heaved upwards and her stomach began to knot. She was micro seconds away from an orgasm when April quit her nursing and began to trail her tongue down the younger Brubaker’s stomach, pausing only when she reached the top of Becky’s black lace bikini panties. Becky spent several anxious moments, her body yearning for release before her mother began to move.
Slowly, Mrs. Brubaker traced her tongue along the waistband; from one side to the other and back again. She knew she was tormenting her daughter with her actions but, she was feeling bold and mischievous. She had not been this bold with Herman nor with Bobby. She could not have explained herself if her life depended upon it. Just the idea of a Sapphic, familial love made her heart race; gave her life purpose. She wondered why it had taken her so long to discover the real April Brubaker.
Instead of taking Becky’s panties off, Mrs. Brubaker, in her haste to get at her daughter’s sexual center, urged Becky’s legs apart. She simply pulled the panties away from and to the side of Becky’s lips. This time, there was no hesitation on April’s part. Starting at Becky’s asshole, Mrs. Brubaker licked her way up to her clit.
Becky was in heaven! Her own mother was tickling her clit, causing her whole bostancı escort bayan body to shimmy and shake. And, when her mother’s tongue began licking her asshole for the second time, she tensed in preparation for a mind-blowing orgasm she knew would soon follow.
Mrs. Brubaker could sense that her daughter was getting close. She could feel the secretions of Becky’s lubricating juices flowing more rapidly against her face.
Becky’s breathing was growing more erratic with each swipe of her tongue. Her breasts heaved and her stomach seemed to be tying itself in knots. The next swipe of her mother’s tongue across her perineum took her to the edge.
Becky arched her back, grabbed two handfuls of April’s hair and pulled her mother’s face into her quivering quim. April, her nose now buried deep inside Becky’s cunt, continued licking her daughter’s perineum.
Becky fucked her mother’s nose with short, rapid strokes. Still gripping April’s hair tightly with her left hand, she moved her right hand to her own clitoris. Placing her forefinger on one side of her hooded nub and her middle finger on the other side, she squeezed lightly and began to slowly stroke her super sensitive man in the boat. Several strokes of her fingers and a few more swipes of her mother’s tongue, combined with the air rushing from April’s nose into her clutching vaginal cavity, sent her into a sexual stupor; the likes of which she’d never before experienced.
Becky screamed as she beat her heels on the bed.
Bobby, on his way home from visiting a friend, looked longingly across the street as he drove by the Brubaker house. The minivan was in the driveway. After a moment’s hesitation he made a u-turn and parked in front of the Brubaker home. He unbuckled his seatbelt and had his hand on the handle to open the door when a taxi pulled into the driveway. He looked on in interest when he saw Herman Brubaker exit the cab and, with casts on both legs, and leaning heavily on his crutches, head toward the front door.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Bobby muttered to himself. “He’s supposed to be in jail.”
Bobby waited until Mr. Brubaker was inside his house and had closed the door before exiting his car. He hurried up the walkway, barely making it up onto the porch before he heard April screaming. He fumbled in his pocket for the key she’d given him. He couldn’t find it. Then he remembered that he’d left it in the glove box of his car.
Mrs. Brubaker screamed again; this timer louder. Bobby grabbed the doorknob and turned it clockwise. To his relief, the door was unlocked. Not bothering to close the door behind him, he ran towards April’s bedroom, unprepared for what he saw playing out before him.
Becky was laying on the bed, clad only in her bikini panties, her body coiled into the fetal position and her eyes opened wide with fear. Supported by a crutch under his left armpit, Herman Brubaker had a handful of Mrs. Brubaker’s hair and was dragging her off the bed.
Bobby rushed into the room, his closed fist high in the air. Swinging it downward, he hit fat Herman on the back of his neck.
Herman Brubaker released his grip on his wife’s hair and crumpled to the floor, dazed and confused, quivering spastically, his mouth opening and closing like a hungry goldfish. Herman’s breaths were shallow and rapid. He looked at Bobby with questioning eyes.
With the lower half of her naked body still on the bed and her head and torso hanging precariously over the side, April Brubaker’s hands clutched at the bedding, trying to get a good grip so she could get back on the bed.
Bobby glanced briefly at Mr. Brubaker and, deciding he was not a serious risk, rushed to April’s aid. He pulled her upright, helped her turn around and then sat down beside her.
Herman Brubaker spoke in hushed tones, his voice creaking and his body trembling in fear. “You bitch!” he said to his wife. He then gave Becky a scathing look. “You and your mother. . .you disgust me.”
Becky was now sitting beside her mother, her and Bobby both hugging her and caressing her. “Where’s your fucking whore, Daddy,” Becky sneered. “Sucking the jailor’s dick behind your back?”
April Brubaker looked her husband in the eye. “Why are you here, anyway? I already told you that you couldn’t come home no more.”
Bobby kept a wary eye on Herman Brubaker as the fat man struggled to a sitting position, ready to hit him again if he made the wrong move.
“I wanted to see if we could kiss and make up,” Herman said, unsuccessfully trying to look remorseful.
April grunted. “Hmmph. You really think I’m gonna swallow that one?”
“Really, honey,” Herman said. “I’ve went that bitch packing. All she wanted was my money.”
April’s lips curled in disgust. “Well, mister big shot lawyer, figure this one out.” She turned to Bobby and kissed him full on the mouth and pulled back just a bit so Herman could see their tongues in action. Despite the gravity of the situation, Bobby’s cock was getting hard. He began to caress April’s breast.
Mrs. Brubaker broke contact with Bobby and turned back to her husband. “Someone else has taken your place. You’d better come up with a whole damned lot of support money, too. We’re gonna be needing every penny of it when we honeymoon in Tahiti.”
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