On Golden Lake Part 2

This is a work of erotic fiction, and is not intended for viewing by anyone under the age of 18. All characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons or events is coincidental.

Comments and helpful criticism are welcome, and may be emailed to ppcummings@hotmail.com.
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Meg eased slowly into the waking world, disoriented and unsure where she was. She was lying on her side on a soft bed, and although she had no covers on, she felt warm and cozy - she could sense sunlight bathing her naked body. But where was she? This wasn't her own bed, she was sure of that. Slowly, she opened her eyes, squinting in the bright sunlight. Her big, brown eyes blinked, and came into focus. She saw a nightstand next to the bed, and wood paneled walls. Then, she remembered.

She was in Blake's bed. And the night before Blake and...Oh my God...Justin...had taken her. Had FUCKED her. BOTH of them had fucked her. Oh God, what had she done? She had fucked her own son. And she had ENJOYED it. LOVED it, as a matter of fact. She had been like a wild animal in heat.

Had it been some weird, twisted dream? No, the memories were coming back with vivid clarity, one after another. It was no dream. She and Blake had been drinking wine...chardonnay, she recalled vaguely. And then she and Blake were in bed. God, she had peed in front of him! And then somehow, Justin had appeared. He...he had licked her pussy, and fucked her. Blake had fucked her virgin ass. And she had eaten it all up like a whore. But now she felt dirty, and ashamed. And guilty. What had she done? What had she been THINKING? She groaned in despair, and then she felt the mattress shift behind her.

"Good morning. How did you sleep?" Meg recognized the deep, masculine voice of Blake, and felt his warm body pressing against her naked back. She lay frozen, emotionally torn between the shame of the dirty, nasty memories from the evening before and the sensual feel of Blake's firm, muscular chest pressed against her bare skin. His strong but smooth hand gently caressed the swell of her hips, making every nerve ending in her body tingle, and she felt him snuggle up even closer against her.

"I...I slept okay," she replied softly. "Um, Blake...where's Justin? Is he okay?"

Her voice had a frightened, urgent quality. She was a concerned, protective mother. Blake's soothing hand traveled over her hips, then along the narrowness of her waist, along her ribcage toward her lolling breasts. "Of course he's okay. He's in the shower." And sure enough, Meg could hear the running water in the next room. She could hear Justin singing a nonsensical ditty, his voice echoing off-key off of the shower walls.

She sighed with relief, then spoke haltingly. "Blake...what we did last night was...was wrong. This is just awful. I'm worried about what Justin might think." And she felt the sting of tears come to her eyes - tears of anger and embarrassment and confusion.

Blake's roaming hand paused momentarily on her firm breast, and then he began insistently caressing it again as he whispered soothingly into her ear. "Hush Meg...Justin is fine. What happened last night was natural...what happened...well, it just happened. Don't do this to yourself."

Meg shook her head in despair, and buried her face in the mattress. "I don't know," she moaned forlornly. "It's not right - I'm an awful mother." The tears stung her eyes, and began to stream down her cheeks.

"Stop tormenting yourself," he scolded. "You're NOT an awful mother. You'll see - Justin is fine." He fondled Meg's firm breasts, and with his palm he stimulated the nipples until they were hard and erect. She felt his hard cock pressed between her buttocks, probing against her anus, then lower, against her already-tingling pussy. She knew from long experience that she was getting very, very wet. Seemingly powerless to stop herself, she sighed and pressed back against him.

Meg was confused and angered by her body's response. Her mind was wracked by guilt, but there was no denying the eroticism of what had happened last night, and Blake's stimulation was helping her relive the physically powerful sensations. Not even her wildest thoughts and dreams and fantasies had elevated her sexuality to such an extent. Everything about last night had brought her body to unknown heights...her son licking her aching pussy...and...and FUCKING her. Blake's hand guiding Justin's cock into her pussy, and licking his sperm out after Justin came. That had been incredibly erotic, but it was...odd somehow.

She cleared her throat. "Blake?"

"Yes?" His fingers gently pinched her pink, erect nipple. His muscular body was glued to hers, and she again felt his erect, probing cock pressing against her ass, her groin. She closed her eyes and purred softly, undulating her hips. She couldn't help it - her pussy was beginning to throb against his touch. A pleasant warm tingle was enveloping her.

"Last night you...touched Justin. And after he...after he...fucked me...". It felt so STRANGE to say that. But it had happened. She had to face the facts. She brushed the tears from her eyes.

Blake froze momentarily. He had a feeling he knew what was coming. But he continued to fondle her erect nipple, trying to hide his nervousness. "Yes I did Meg. And?" he asked in as casual a voice as he could muster.

"Was that the first time you had ever touched him?"

Blake knew this question would have to come sooner or later. He considered being completely truthful, but thought that would be the wrong approach given Meg's state of mind. He settled instead on a partial truth, a response that he had trained Justin on the night before, after Meg had fallen asleep in exhaustion. Hopefully it would work, but if he screwed this up, there would be hell to pay. He measured his words carefully, but didn't stop stimulating her tits. Maybe if he could distract her...

"Well," he paused for effect. "It's kind of embarrassing Meg."

Meg tilted her head to look at him. "Embarrassing?"

Blake ran his hand over her flat tummy. "Yeah, kinda. I was...I was jacking off in the living room the other day, and Justin barged in on me."

Meg was listening intently, her eyes searching out his. Blake's warm hand crawled along her stomach, then caressed the smooth sensitive skin along the edge of her pubic hair. "I was mortified," he continued. "I pulled my shorts up as fast as I could, but Justin was looking at me. And he seemed...I dunno, curious I guess. It was strange Meg. I didn't know what to do, but he wanted to see what I was doing. I...I ended up letting him touch me. We touched each other." Meg looked away, contemplating in silence what Blake was telling her.

Blake forged ahead. So far so good. "I know it must seem strange Meg. I don't know what to say." His fingers were brushing through her pussy hair, and so far, she was doing nothing to resist.

After what seemed an eternity to Blake, but was really no more than a minute at the most, Meg spoke softly. "I...I guess I'm not sure how to take that Blake...it's just not right."

Blake knew exactly what she was referring to, but he redirected the accusation innocently. By "not right", Meg was referring to Justin's youth, not his sex, but he pretended he understood otherwise. "I guess you're surprised that I'm bi, aren't you?"

"Well...yes...but that's not really what I mean Blake. Justin is so young. He's only 13 for God's sakes. It's not right." But Meg was tormented by what she had just said. No, it WASN'T right. On the other hand, she wasn't much better, letting her son fuck her like some sleazy slut. And she had ENJOYED it! Just like the enjoyment she felt over what Blake was doing to her now. His strong but nimble fingers were dancing along her upper thighs, caressing the silky sensitive skin. Despite her best efforts, she was getting horny. Damn Blake! She should be angry with him for what he had done, but she just couldn't. She had begun falling for him these last few days, and despite the fact she should be furious at him, she simply was incapable of that emotion right now. She should just get up and leave, but she couldn't pull herself away.