And she had a hot, juicy cunt.
Her lack of experience was due to her shyness, and that alone.
Even when her husband spoke of some erotic thing he would enjoy, she would turn from him with a burning face and refuse. But in her mind she was screaming for him to do those exciting things to her, to make her – force her – to do them.
Stepping from the car, Carol smoothed her skirt over her hips and thighs, feeling the wetness in the crotch of her panties. Sliding under the wheel of the convertible, she backed out carefully. When she got home, the panties would be hidden in her drawer, with the rest of them. She would bathe and change into her other panties, probably put on a bra, then a housedress. Her other panties, although bikini style, were simply utilitarian and not sexy at all. Her pretty, frilly panties were to be worn only when she fantasized and finger-fucked herself.
She was still feeling ashamed of herself by the time she parked the car and entered the house. Sometimes this sense of guilt lasted for hours. She hated the feeling.
The house was quiet as she walked to her room. She wondered where Roger was, but wasn't worried. He was usually down the street with his cousin, Ginger. She could call later and have him come home. She was glad her sister and brother-in-law lived so close. It not only gave Roger someone to play with that she liked, too, but she could always talk with her sister. Roger and Ginger had used both houses as if they lived in them, running in and out and doing whatever they pleased.
She sat on the toilet, knees closed, elbows propped there. She cupped her chin in her hand and her mind started to build a fantasy once more. She thought of being in the open, naked as she was now, taking a piss as a group of boys and girls surrounded her, watching and listening to the tinkling sounds of piss splashing into water. Carol didn't know why this should make her feel good, but it did. It was simply an extension of her erotic fantasies.
This particular erotic dream suddenly became a reality.
"Oh! Roger!" Carol gasped, covering her tits quickly, the stream of piss cutting off.
Her son stood in the doorway of the bathroom, looking at her. He didn't seem the least bit ashamed of catching her on the toilet, naked and pissing.
"Go away!" Carol gasped.
She covered her tits and leaned over, looking at her son with fear-filled eyes. Not fear, not really, but with embarrassment.
Roger laughed, more a giggle than anything. Carol watched her son's eyes move up and down her body. She flushed even more, and found she couldn't say anything. She wanted to shout at him to leave her alone, but her throat was constricted. Her cunt was gripped with orgasm.
"Go away, Roger," she finally said, her voice very low, without force. "Please, don't look at me." Carol saw a small face peering over her son's shoulder, and she gasped again.
Ginger's blue eyes were wide, and she giggled in a lewd sound.
"Ginger! Roger! Go away! Please!"
She was relieved when they did go away.
She shoved her foot out, trying to kick the door shut, but couldn't quite reach it. She looked around carefully then stood up. With a quick motion, she grabbed the damp towel and twisted it about her body. She tucked it securely to her armpits, not knowing almost half of her ass was showing, with the hint of pussy hair in front. She was rattled, otherwise she might have known she was exposed.
Believing she was well covered, she went into the living room, and found her son and niece sitting on the floor. They had turned on the television and afternoon shows were going through those stupid antics. She walked past them and, before she reached the kitchen, felt eyes on her. She peeked over her shoulder and sure enough Roger and Ginger were staring at her. She followed their eyes with one hand, and then gasped with a hot blush on her face when she felt the naked cheeks of her ass.
She moved quickly into the kitchen, drinking a glass of cold water. She felt trapped now. There was no way she could go back through the living room, not with the towel showing everything she had. And she couldn't stay in the kitchen until Roger and Ginger decided to go back outside, either.
She peeked to see if she could sneak past them.
Ginger was standing up, her dress pulled up behind, with the seat of her white cotton panties showing. She was prancing before Roger, shaking her slim hips in a parody of Carol going into the kitchen.
Carol felt so ashamed she could die.
"Don't look at me," Ginger said, trying to imitate Carol's voice. "You're not supposed to see my butt, you know. Even if I show it, you're not supposed to see my ass, Roger."
Carol gasped when she heard her niece. The impulse to say something about her language was strong, but Carol had to swallow it. If she said anything, it would make matters worse, she felt.
And Roger! He was playing along with Ginger.
"Oh, Mother," she heard her son say, his voice childish. "I see your ass, Mother! Why are you showing your ass to me, Mother?"
"So you can see it, you bad boy," Ginger replied, shaking her little ass saucily. "Don't you know you're not supposed to look at Mother's ass? Even if I show you my ass, you're supposed to look away."
"But, Mother," she heard her son giggle. "It's so pretty. I can't help looking at it!"
"Well, you can look awhile," Ginger said, still pretending to be her aunt, "but you don't try to touch my ass, you hear me, young man?"
"I wouldn't do that, Mother." Roger said. "I'll just sit here and look at your naked ass like a good little boy, Mother."
"You better!" Ginger said. "You can look but if you try to touch my ass, I'll have to punish you."
"Oh, don't spank me, Mother!" Roger said pretending fear. "I'll just look at your pretty ass, that's all, Mother!"
"You better, you bad boy," Ginger said, twisting her ass at her cousin in a childish motion.
Carol felt herself flushing as she watched around the corner of the doorway. She saw the tight cheeks of her niece's ass, the white panties cupping them sweetly. She felt drawn to that small ass, her palms itching to touch, to cup and fondle. She wanted to run her hands up and down those young thighs of Ginger, feel the smooth flesh and find the heat between them. She tried to imagine what Ginger's young cunt would feel like, taste like. Then she was drawn to her son. Her fantasy saw him sitting there with his cock out. She ran her tongue over her lips as she imagined his cock standing up so very hard. She pictured herself near him, stroking his beautiful young cock in one hand, feeling her niece's cunt with the other. She tried to feel their young and eager hands on her body, but the ridiculous position she was in suddenly closed off her fantasy.
She sucked in a deep breath.
She couldn't stop in the kitchen doorway.
With her head held high shoulders back, she walked bravely from the door and right into the living room. Ginger quickly shoved her dress down, and Carol felt their eyes following her across the room. Her face was bright pink, and she couldn't do anything about it but she walked as quickly as she could, and felt their eyes on her all the way.
As she disappeared down the hallway, she heard them giggling.
"Oh, don't look at my ass!" she heard Ginger say.
"But it's so pretty, Mom!" she heard her son laughing.
CHAPTER TWO
It had been two days since the towel incident. Carol relived it over and over in her mind, and just the night before she had lain in her bed and fantasized about Roger and Ginger. The fantasy was her best yet, and she had tried to imagine her son's cock, throbbingly hard, inside her cunt, fucking her as she twisted and moaned and whimpered in delight, her hands feeling the sweet body of her niece, kissing that pretty little girl, licking at the wet, sugary cunt.