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AUNTS IN HIS PANTS, AND MOM TOO

11/19/2014

The Sisters Savoy they were known as, when they had their
nightclub act. They sang and danced and told funny stories
about growing up triplets. They were each as beautiful
as the other, even though they were never that famous. I
broke up the act you see, when mom became pregnant with me.
That bulging belly broke the symmetry of the three and they
never got back into show biz after that. Susan, my mother,
married my dad, a local hardware store owner. Shortly after,
Aunt Sylvia wed a rich man, who died when his private plane
went down, a few years back. Aunt Sally hitched her wagon
to a long distance truck driver, who was seldom in town.



Dad worked day and night to make the family business profitable.
So often, I was the only fella available when any of the three
women needed a man, even when I was just a youngster in his
teens. By the time I was out of high school, a tall muscular
youth of nineteen, I was helping pop at the shop. The family
in-joke was that the kid (me) had a ‘big tool’. I mean,
I knew I was fair size, from the locker room at school. But
I didn’t realize that this had been the source of chuckles
ever since I was born, until I overheard the three sisters
talking one day in late spring.


Sally: My, Susan, your boy is getting so big; he’s taller
than his dad.


Sylvia: Well, he’s got more muscles than even your spouse,
Sally.


Mom: He used to work out at school, but with all the heavy
lifting down at the store, he needs those strong arms.


Sylvia: I bet another of his muscles is nice size too!


Sally: You mean his calves? I’ve seen him in shorts.
Great buns! (She giggled.)


Sylvia: NO, I mean . . . you know what I mean, you used to change
his diapers as well, Sally.


Mom: Girls; that is my son you are talking about!


Sylvia: So have you gotten a peek when he comes out of the
shower?


Mom: Maybe…


Sally: Tell, how long is he now?


Mom: Sal! I’m not going to…


Sylvia: Oh! Come on Sue, we all did his diapering and noted
how well endowed he was compared to other infants, so I’m
sure that holds true still. How long?


Sally: Wouldn’t you have to see it hard, to tell the important
measurement? (She giggled again.)


Sylvia: Yes! Have you seen him hard, how big was it?


Mom: I never…


Sylvia: You always were peaking at dad’s. I bet you did.



Sally: You sure got a gander at our hubbies’ at the lake,
when we all went skinny dipping that time. You like to look
at dicks, don’t you Susan! Don’t deny it!


Mom: He’s my boy…


Sylvia: A man now and you’re evading the question, which
means that you know the answer. Tell!


Mom: It has to be over seven, maybe eight inches. (They
all broke-up into shrieks of laughter.)


For the record it’s eight and a quarter, when I am my hardest,
but I was born with it so I don’t brag, just a fact, like
my brown hair and hazel eyes. My other muscles took work
to develop and I am proud of them. They continued the conversation
on the topic of my equipment.


Sylvia: Well, I guess that he has the biggest tool in the
whole store then!


Sally: When did you get to view the boner of your ‘big
boy’?


Mom: I accidentally started to go in his room when I thought
he was out. He normally has music or the TV on. The computer
was on, but muted and he was looking at porn. He didn’t
realize I was there, but I could see a side view and God; was
he beautiful and such a hunk. He takes after daddy.


Sylvia: Daddy took after you, did he ever corner you?


Sally: He had me in the tool shed once. I had to try that stick
of beef once, just to see. You know how curious I am about
sex.


Mom: You and Daddy? In the tool shed?


Sylvia: Oh! Don’t be so shocked, I tried him down in the
basement, when mom was gone on that trip out West. Dad always
wanted to have us three girls. So he got two out of three,
twice with me and once with Sally. That’s three times
for the triplets, he averaged it out.


Mom: Four.


Sally: I knew it! I knew the horniest of us couldn’t resist
letting daddy into her pants once!


Mom: Three times, truth be told. (Now she giggled.)


Sylvia: So that makes, let’s see, three into seven…



Sally: Well if you want to do the math, I’ll make it easier
and throw in the two times we did it in Oldsmobile’s back
seat. Didn’t you ever wonder why the ice cream was melted
when dad and I went to fetch it?


Sylvia: And none of ever knew about the others until now.
We were supposed to share everything, no secrets among
the triplets. Remember?


Mom: We did share, daddy that is, only one at a time. I was
scared mama would find out, so I didn’t dare let on.


Sally: Me too.


Sylvia: She knew, and was glad that the horny old bastard
was letting her off the hook sometimes. She got tired by
the time we had turned 18 and started to mess around with
our father.


Mom: When did she tell you that?


Sylvia: At his funeral. We were sitting together alone
when you both were looking at him in the coffin.


Sally: That all ended when we were twenty-one and they
let us go on the road with the act.


Mom: Then mama had to put up with the old goat once more.
I hope she liked big cock. I sure did! (She giggled.)


Sally: Me too.


Sylvia: Me three.


Mom: Well you girls keep our hands off my son then!


Sylvia: Who us?


Sally: Going to keep him to yourself? I thought we three
Savoy sisters shared and shared alike. Isn’t that our
rule?


Mom: So are you saying that your husband is available?



Sylvia: Never around enough for Sal, much less anyone
else. How about the hardware king?


Mom: The hammer in his pants is a ball-peen, round at one
end and flat at the other, not much good for getting nailed
I’m afraid.


They all went into hysterics then and the party broke up.
But it was a very illuminating conversation. It turned
out that their chat had unexpected consequences subsequently,
as I will relate how I got to use my ‘tool’, just like
grandpa managed to do.


Aunt Sally like to garden. She ordered some seed and fertilizer
and a hoe that I delivered. Working with Aunt Sally in her
flower bed turned out to be a dirty job indeed!


Aunt Sylvia liked to go to charity events. She requested
that I go with her to a society fund raising soiree. Accompanying
Aunt Sylvia and dancing with her turned out to be a ball doing
escort service!


Mom was outraged when she found out. But the other two convinced
her that just like with grandpa, she could have her share
too!


Comparing mom to her sisters was a study in contrasts, despite
the fact they were triplets.


I don’t blame Grandpa for desiring his daughters, for
years I have had a yearning for my mother. By proxy, that
yen extended to my aunts since they were all but clones of
mom. However, while when younger – especially for their
act – they deliberately tried to be as identical as possible,
now days though they were less concerned about triplication,
as they termed it. Sally wore her hair in a short page-boy
or variant, Sylvia went to the hairdresser’s once a week
and always had had coif of one sort of another. Mom wore her
chestnut brown hair long and straight, like when she had
been my age, or sometimes in a ponytail.


I discovered other variations of their hair styles in more
private places, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself.
I was a little stunned by the revelations of what my inadvertent
easedropping had divulged. Not so much shocked as bemused
and enlightened to the workings of the inner circle of the
threesome. Who knew that they were such naughty nymphs
in their younger years? Clearly they were still rather
saucy in their mature stage as well. I had had no inkling
as to their familiarity with my ‘tool’, much less mom
having had a peek when I was pumping my prick. I wondered
if any or all three had any ideas about trying out my love
muscle.


I wasn’t a virgin. The locker-room scuttlebutt had gone
from the guys’ envy to the girls’ ears, the way high
school gossip spreads across a campus. I had no trouble
getting dates. Particularly the gals, who were looser
with their charms, and morals, were eager to go out with
me. I tended to have steady girlfriends though, where our
relationship went for long months. While at the moment,
I was between ladies; my last sweetheart was with me for
over a year, until she left for college. Now, between working
at the store and most of my buddies either off to school or
having jobs, my social life was pretty much in hiatus. I
was getting horny, since I was not getting any lately.


My thoughts returned to that raunchy chat. Jeez! What was
that about the three couples skinny-dipping at the family
cabin at the lake? Had they done more than that? I couldn’t
conceive that they had, though at the moment new scandalous
information would not be surprising in light of the incestuous
trysts the trio had with their dad. Grandpa Savoy had long
ago bought a fair size stretch of lake-shore some hundred
miles north of the town we live in. He had a lodge built for
the family to enjoy summer stays at and for hunting during
the season, a retreat we still had for our extended family
use. That the privacy of its isolation allowed for some
sort of hanky-panky was not unknown, even I had taken some
girlfriends up there. But the six; aunts, uncles and parents,
naked and splashing – and did any swapping go on? It was
not like I could ask.


So for a few days I had the chance to mull over this new and
salacious information, and contemplate the auspicious
insights to my closest female relatives. Then Aunt Sally
dropped by the store and put in an order for her spring planting
needs. Her garden was her pride and she loved working to
raise flowers and a few vegetables and herbs for her home.
Since her husband, the trucker, was away often, this kept
her occupied during the warmer months. In winter she sewed,
knitted, crocheted, did hook rugs, and any other hobby
with fabrics or yarn you could think of. She wasn’t lonely,
since there were garden clubs and sewing circles. But she
sometimes could use a man around the house. Dad learned
early on to avoid that trap; he was busy enough with the store.
But he had no problem is sparing me to help.


Thus I found myself pulling into her driveway with a load
in the back of the pickup; sacks of fertilizer, packets
of seed, and boxes of seedlings and a new hoe. Dad was wise
to her schemes. So when she said she needed to do the rototilling
of her garden, I was the handiest man to be enlisted, to be
the Mr. Muscles of the moment. I didn’t mind though, Sally
was perky and funny and always provided plenty of beer and
homemade snacks to feed a hungry helper. Now though, I saw
her with a fresh perspective. Those loose blouses that
were never buttoned up all that high, so that you could look
at the ‘buttons’ inside, from the side, as she never
wore a bra for gardening. The view of her firm and fair breasts
was titillating, and while I would never get fresh with
her, those yams were yummy to glimpse.


As well, while we worked in the soil, she would bend down,
even get on her hands and knees to weed or plant. The baggy
shorts she wore were providing a gander at her thighs and
hips, the pale skin of her rear was quite on display from
the angle I had. Her ass was quite attractive, and now that
I had been cued-in to her curiosity about things sexual,
it was arousing to think about her and grandpa ‘in the
tool shed’. In fact, I developed a nice boner from such
contemplation. Thank God I had the rototiller to hide my
erection, or so I thought. But once or twice I thought Sal
was peering sideways at me with a little smirk of a smile.
I wasn’t sure, but if we had been contemporaries, I would
have suspected she was flaunting her charms and flirting.



The plot she was working was finished for the day, after
we had spread a couple bags of ‘all-natural fertilizer’,
i.e. sanitized manure, over it. I had not expected to be
drafted into service, and while I was in work clothes, I
had not brought a change of shirt and jeans. Sally insisted
that she run my duds in the laundry machines in her basement,
while I relaxed afterwards with a beer, even take a shower.
She was quite firm that I get cleaned up there at her place,
since she did not want me going home smelling like ‘shit’,
her word. I was glad for the break from the store and chores
at home, even though I probably worked harder at Sally’s.
But she made it seem like fun.


She brought me a beer to drink before I went in, and that got
chugged. Then she followed me upstairs to the bathroom
with two more and told me to strip, hand her out all my clothes,
underwear also. “Enjoy your suds while you suds-up!”
she spoke to me through the door, as I hid behind it giving
her my smelly apparel. I got the impression she wouldn’t
have minded peeking in. I downed half a brew and jumped in
the shower and lathered up. I was just doing my hair with
shampoo, eyes shut, when I heard the door open. It never
occurred to me to lock it. I thought that perhaps she was
bringing me a fresh towel. Then I sensed another body in
the spray with me. My aunt giggled that girlish giggle she
had given, when speaking about my buns.


Speaking of which, she was now grasping as she clutched
me in an intimate naked hug. I rinsed to clear my vision and
beheld the tan and fit form of my mother’s sister. I put
my arms down around her waist, but then thought ‘what
the hell’, and lowered them to her haunches as well. She
tilted her face to mine and the look in her eyes said plain
as day, “Kiss me”. So I did, and her tongue wiggled in
between my lips and Frenched me. Her nipples scraped their
hard points against my chest. She was not shy, as she reached
for my growing stalk. The gardener knew where she wanted
that planted, in her bush and wanted my seed. “Hoe, hoe
hoe!” said the rakish fellow, as he squeezed her melons.



Sally handed me the soap and I understood that she wanted
me to be dirty and wash her too. All over. What a delightful
handful that squirming female proved to be, as I slipped
my palms over her skin. I touch everywhere, including the
mons and the clit and even her anus. She squealed as I discovered
ticklish spots and gasped as I groped her gash. She got in
the act and lathered my length of manhood even as I was fingering
her hole. Then I inserted a second digit and began to move
them back and forth within her vagina, front to back, with
them as deep as I could stick them up and in. This resulted
in my aunt rolling her eyes back and open mouthed cumming
at least twice.


She recovered while I held her up to keep her from falling,
as her knees had gone weak. She dragged me out of the stall,
so fast I hardly had time to shut the water off. Sal, took
the half beer, giving me the full one, as we stood dripping
and nude on the carpeted floor. I was still hard as oak. She
drank the half in quick gulps as I popped the other and quenched
my thirst, but we were both hungry for what was next. In all
this, not a word had been said, now Sal spoke, “Ready?”
I nodded. She got down on her hands and knees, like she was
weeding, with her ass pushed out at me. She wanted it from
behind that was clear. I knelt between her legs and looked
at her hips. Two little roses, one tattooed on each bun were
there.


My gorgeous and steamy aunt looked back over her shoulder;
she knew what I had espied. “Rosy cheeks!” she explained.
I chuckled at the in-joke. Mom always had said that Sally
had a good complexion and ‘rosy cheeks’ from working
in her flower garden. But I now knew that mother was referring
to more than her sis’s face, when she quipped the phrase.
Well, it was time to plow. I took my instrument and slowly
pushed into the furrow that was presented to me. Then I slipped
my cock back and forth as I gave Sal what she needed. Her husband
was hardly home, and she got too little physical loving
from the trucker, that was obvious.


What a sight, her butt being on the skewer of my lance, like
some lamb being roasted. How so right it felt to be lunging
in her cavity and showing her my ardor. Mighty tight, the
twat that thrust back at my prick, her pussy seemed a perfect
fit as it automatically adjusted to my measurements. This
was good, this was hot, this was my aunt and she was a great
lay. If I was her husband I would find work closer to home
and have this woman fucking me every day! I gave her the best
I had, I worked that cunt with my spear for I don’t know
how long, but finally she was cumming and cumming. I reached
around and held her tits as I drove hard into her to allow
my own release.


I felt my balls literally jumping as they swayed and thumped
on her pudendum, while the stream of semen flowed like a
garden hose within the humid haven of her hole. Her own emulsions
frothed out too, like some sort of milky sap, then my spume
back-flowed and dribbled out. We slowly settled to the
rug and tried to catch our breath. “Don’t you dare tell
your mom, or Sylvie, about this! And for being such a good
nephew, I’m going to have you over for some nice eggplant
parmigiana and to ‘water my roses’ when you’re here.”
She giggled; then paused. “I think that your clothes
need to go in the dryer by now. Get a few more beers and meet
me in my bedroom.” Her mattress linens were floral prints,
and we lay in her ‘flower bed’ and made love again.


When I got home, dinner was just being set out by mom, dad
was already at the table. Mom asked where I had been. Dad
answered for me and said he had sent me over to Sally’s
with the stuff she had ordered. Mom raised an eyebrow and
commented that it didn’t take all afternoon to make one
delivery. I explained that I had been drafted into service
to do the rototilling.


“Oh ‘Drafted into service ‘?” Asked dad with clearly
a double entendre intended. Mom shot him a look, that meant
‘don’t you dare spill the beans about my sister, mister!!’



Mom then commented, “There was quite a bit of sun today,
I hope you didn’t burn, Honey.”


Dad, still with the gleam of deviltry in his eyes, said with
a straight face (but his tone indicated that he was still
having amusement by sniping about his sister-in-law)
wisecracked, “Well, as you always say, gardening flowers
made Sally’s ‘cheeks rosy’.” I remembered that
dad had seen Sally (and Sylvia too for that matter) in the
altogether. Had that been during the day or night? He must
have known about the tattoos! That’s why he was making
with the smart-mouthing!


That realization struck me and I felt my throat choke a chuckle
back down. If I hadn’t just finished my swallow of soda
I would have sprayed it out, like the comedians do when they
make the gag to show a big surprise. As it was, an odd little
sound escaped; just enough that my mother looked at me askance;
but said nothing. I did catch her out of the corner of my eye
making a ‘cut it’ gesture to pop with the flat of her
hand drawing across her neck. I excused myself for a moment
and made my escape on the pretense of having to wash my hands.
I got control of myself and came back.


I spoke in a normal tone, I wanted to insure that my folks
knew that I might return to offer more help to my green-thumbed
aunt. “Aunt Sally said she wouldn’t mind if I was to
work for her some more, now and then. She said I could water
her roses.” It just slipped out of my mouth, like soap
in wet hands. I didn’t think about what I had just said,
until I saw that mom was doing a slow burn. Then she threw
down the towel she was holding, and stormed out of the dinning
room. I looked at my father and frowned. I still didn’t
directly connect the phrase that Sal had used to the previous
conversations, but then dad spoke again.


He had a serious look, but I could see that he was trying to
not laugh. He wasn’t sure I understood what had made mom
angry or not. I might be innocent, or guilty, he wasn’t
sure. However he just shook his head, and said, “Son,
Sally doesn’t grow roses.” Then it clicked, she had
said, “I’ll let you water my roses”, which was quite
a provocative promise of more sex to come, at the time. When
I had quoted it, I thought it was a good cover. But instead,
I may have let the cat out of the bag that I had my aunt’s
pussy in the sack! Mom came back after a few minutes and acted
like nothing in the last ten minutes had happened. Dinner
was good, but quiet, unusually so.


Then a week later, Aunt Sylvia came by one evening. She had
a favor to ask her favorite nephew, that being me. In fact,
I was the only child of the three sisters. I knew that Sylvie
and her husband had decided not to have kids. He was older,
it was his second marriage and he had two by his first wife.
They were in another state and got a sizable inheritance
when he died, and would receive the bulk of the rest when
Sylvia passed, since there were no other heirs. Sylvia
was on friendly terms with them, but they were not her kids.
Sally had a bad miscarriage and was unable to conceive after
her operation. Mom and dad wanted more than just me, though
it never happened for some reason.


Sylvie had an important charity ball to attend, but her
usual escort, since my uncle had been gone, was going to
be out of town. She thought of me because I had some dance
lessons and was good at the waltz, foxtrot and could ‘boogie
with the best of them'; her words. Besides, I was old
enough now to have champagne and there was my tux left over
from the proms, just hanging in the closet gathering dust.
So I was all set if I wanted, if I would be so kind, “I’ll
make it worth your while, ” sultrily entreated the most
elegant of the three sisters Savoy. How could I refuse?
I wondered if I might get as lucky with Sylvia as with Sally;
and had they talked? ‘Make it worth my while’ sounded
not only promising, but perhaps a bit like a proposition!



I dressed in the tux at Aunt Sylvia’s house (small mansion)
where the limousine was picking us up. I came down the curved
stairs first. Then Sylvie made her entrance. She was wearing
a designer dress, a black number made of a material that
clung to her every curve, which were all over and in all the
right places and proportions. The front and back were symmetrical,
with an opening like this (), which ran from breast bone
to just below the navel and from the shoulder blades to just
above the split of her buns. The sides had smaller similar
but narrower gaps that ran from the outer edge of her breasts
to the top of her hips. It was held together and up by inch
wide straps over the shoulders. The lower part of the dress
had knee-high side slits to allow freedom for dancing.
It was stunning.


We arrived and found our table, a mix of younger well-to-do
and middle-aged wealthy, but nice folks, friendly. The
music was quite varied, even if the orchestra did favor
the slower rhythms. There was plenty of wine and great hors
d’oeuvres. I enjoyed Sylvia’s company as she was a
vivacious and witty woman who loved her life and had the
charm to enchant others with her joie de vivre. We had a great
time. The thing I liked the most though, was dancing with
her. Dancing close and slow and putting my hands on her,
smelling her perfume, her body pressed against mine. Being
so near, I could tell that the dress was the only covering
of her pulchritude, and there was no hint of panties, or
thong either for all I could perceive. Just thinking about
that made me begin to swell in my pants. I had to loosen my
tie as things warmed up.


Eventually, my tumescence was full and upright. Still
Sylvie pressed with her legs and abdomen against what she
must have felt hard on her tummy and thighs. It was like she
expected it, enjoyed it, had planned it and was getting
a thrill from my condition. I certainly didn’t mind the
soft cushions of femininity pressing on my chest. I took
off my jacket so that there was less between us. Sylvie looked
me straight in the eyes as we tangoed with verve and flair.
The sparks were definitely zapping from our contact and
it wasn’t static electricity! Then came a slow waltz
and we were quite tight together, my manhood pressing and
rubbing on the bump of her mons as we swayed.


After that Sylvia grabbed her purse from the table and took
out a check, beckoning me to follow with a crooked finger.
I grabbed my coat and obeyed, using the jacket to hide my
still protruding erection. She went by the head table,
dropped the bank-note in the big glass bowl for donations
and we exited out the hall. She fished out her cell and made
a call, within a minute the limo was there to pick us up. In
the back of the long sedan, she rolled up the dividing window
for privacy. She half turned to me and taking my hand furthest
from her, placed it on her thigh. I turned toward her expecting
a kiss. Instead, she said in a soft husky voice, “This
is what you have done to your Aunt, you naughty boy!” She
moved my hand up to her crotch.


As I had surmised, there were no panties, nor a thong, all
I felt was bare bald pussy and a wet slit. She continued,
“If I had to sit down, after that last dance, I’d have
a very telling wet spot on my tush when I arose. We were too
public to have that happen. As it is, now that I am sitting,
this gown will need a trip to the cleaners!” Then she kissed
me. Can she kiss! Even without the tongue her lips made a
marvelous tender mushing on my mouth. When our oral digits
danced it was a sensual ballet of slippery squiggles, an
art of knowing the inside of the other’s face. Meanwhile,
my hand was rubbing the squishy place she had shoved it,
and she loved it.


Nor were her fingers idle, as she was stroking my boner through
my pants. It was a short drive back to her home, so we didn’t
undress until we were through the front door. Sylvie just
unhooked the front clasp at the top of her dress, and shrugged
off the straps. It fell to her feet and she was like Eve before
the fig leaf (but after having tasted the apple)! She drew
me by the hand to the living room and picked up a remote. With
some practiced button pushing the lights dimmed and romantic
music started to play. Then she stripped me like mom had
done when I was little and tired. Only I was not tired, even
after the wine and fancy food, and I certainly was not little;
you know where I mean!


When I was down to my pants puddled at my feet, I shed my shoes
and stepped forward, now Adam – sans leaf also. She gathered
me into her arms and said, “Let’s dance a little more.”
I put my arm around her waist to lead, and moved slow to the
music, my bare cock against her clean pudenda. But of course,
she really was the one leading me, down the garden path,
just as Sally had done in her own salacious way. My pre-cum
dampened her mons, my shaft was grinding the greased groove
of her womanhood and we shuffled on the shag carpet not moving
much from where we started from, most of the motions was
at our pelvis level.


Finally I just stopped moving my feet and hunched my hips,
so that my hard-on was sawing at her notch, it was planing
over the nub of her clit and her head tilted back in an open-mouth
gasp of passion, her tits lifting and making the perfect
target for my sucking lips. She then came forward and pushed
me so that I lost balance and went back on my ass. That was
as she wanted; for she straddled me as I stretched out, her
dripping center hovered over my prick and she reached down
to guide it to her pussy. It happily was a solid awl to puncture
her tissues, slicing up the cavity it widened in her body.
That heated snug casing was fabulous, as Sylvie sank and
rose upon the handle of my masculinity.


My hands went to clutch her bosom as the pendulous mams hovered
over my torso. I gave a gentle pinch to the protruding flesh
that was in the middle of the rosettes. My aunt’s pelvis
rocked back and forth, to and fro. “That’s right Baby,
just let mama do all the work for us. Did you ever want to do
this to your mom, kiddo? Be honest, tell Aunt Sylvie the
truth, don’t you have a lust for your own mother, somewhere
deep in your loins?” My surprise at her words made me speechless
for a moment, but my libido answered involuntarily as my
dick lurched and my hips thrust, as the spice of that even
more sinful incest spiked my pike.


“I knew it!” cried Sylvia in triumph, not at my expense
but in delight at her insight as to what secret lust lurked
within her sister’s son. “It’s okay, Darling, that
streak runs all through the family. You’re just the next
generation of Savoy degenerates!”


“But, I always had a hankering to hammer you too, Sylvie!”



“Of course, you did dear boy, and I bet that goes for Sally
as well. We three are like the triple scoops of ice cream
on a banana split; you want to have the whole she-bang. And
your banana is doing so nicely in my split! But stay put;
I like to ride in reverse too!” With that she made a practiced
maneuver and actually turned around on me with my penis
still up her vagina, to face the other way. Away she went
up and down some more. I was looking at her fine posterior,
an ass to be proud of on any woman, when I made an observation
that hit me like a thunderbolt. There on her hindquarters,
in the exact same spots, were two tattooed flowers; same
as Aunt Sally’s but a different bloom, and blue not red.



“Sylvie, you’ve got flowers on your tush too!” It’s
funny how fast the mind can work sometimes. I had blurted
out the line about ‘watering Sally’s roses’, and
possibly spilled the beans about our making love. Clear
as if she were in the room, I heard Sal say, ‘Don’t you
dare tell your mom, or Sylvie, about this!’ I immediately
tried to cover my rear about the intimate discovery I had
made with both of them and added, “Uh… two blue flowers
on your buns.” I hoped that Sylvie had not caught the barest
hesitation that was the millisecond I took, as all that
flashed through my brain. “When did you get those?”
The question was a diversionary tactic. It failed, but
in an unexpected way brought more revelation!


All the while the exquisite sensation of our fucking was
continuing full out. She laughed as her derrière bobbed
upon my dick and felt like warm butter that gripped me like
a rubber glove. Her Kegels were highly trained I realized
as she bounce on my boner, the interior muscles of her sex
surrounding my manhood. Before answering she shuddered,
and a fine coating of perspiration broke out over her whole
back. That was her first cum. She dismounted and pulled
me over to the couch where she slouched so her hips hung on
the edge of the cushions and I knelt between her thighs,
then plugged in for more action. “New Orleans.”


I had lost track of the conversation, with the switch of
positions, but her next words brought understanding to
my lust fogged head.


“Those flowers on my rump are bluebells. I used to have
a favorite pair of slacks which I wore constantly. My sisters
even teased me about them. So when I got my tattoo, I made
a pun about my pants, they were a cobalt blue color, bell-bottoms.”
I looked slightly befuddled as I fucked her. “Blue –
bell – bottom, bluebells on my bottom, get it… oh! Yeah!
Just like that, more – harder yess! YESS! AHH!” She
came again.


“Damn! I can’t believe how turned on it makes me that
you got the hots for your mom. You naughty boy, I’ve caught
you out!” I was confused about what she meant, though
now I understood about the in-joke of Sylvia’s tattoos.
“You’ve been peeking at your mom’s ass, haven’t
you? Or did she show you? No, Susan wouldn’t be so bold.
So you had to see her butt sometime when she didn’t know.
Was she sleeping naked on top of the covers and you peeped?
Yes! You wanted to see mommy naked because you lusted after
her and want to fuck her so bad! That is soo exciting, I’m
cumming again you dirty nasty little boy!!” And she did,
twice.


I wasn’t sure why my lechery for my mother was a turn on
for my aunt, but it seemed to get her off quite nicely. I was
happy to be doing the honors. I was getting close myself
now to blasting in her pussy. I was vaguely aware in my jumble
thoughts while working on my own orgasm, that it must mean
that mom had a set of tattoos, like her sisters did, on her
own ass. What Sylvia guessed about my feelings was true,
even though I had not had the pleasure of spying on my mother’s
naked body in such luscious circumstances. My current
paramour was indeed a fair substitute physically for my
maternal parent. I began to fantasize with the inspiration
that my aunt’s words incited.


Sylvia could tell that I was beginning the rush to the rumble,
the pace quickened and I gripped her legs harder to gain
leverage to sock my raging rod into her genitals. Slap-slap-slap
went our flesh clapping together as I beat her with my club
of love, our crotches smacking. Her tits were jiggling
with the banging as I pounded away at her pussy. “Think
about fucking mommy, fuck your mama!” she urged me. That
pulled the trigger and I was engulfed in the reverie of screwing
mother.


I cried out my thoughts and deepest desires and most secret
of lusts. “Yes, mom Susan fuck me! I love you mom, I need
you! I have to… I have to…”


“Yes, Baby! Cum in mama, squirt it all into mommy’s
tummy. Do it, Darling! FUCK ME! FUCK ME NOWW!”


We were cumming together, mom/Sylvie and me, a wild and
chaotic pistoning in her cunt by my out of control cock.
Son was slamming into aunt/mother with all the energy that
had been withheld for so long, wanting to give my parent
the love she had given to me. But in this wonderful physical
way that brought her and I together and provided such a grand
pleasure to our united bodies. I made “uh-uh” grunts
and “ah’whoo” wails as I release the load that had
waited to fire from my balls into the receptacle of her loins.
I felt my prick pulse in big throbs of gushes, in the burning
wetness that held me and drank the flow that streamed through
the tube of meat planted in her.


At last we rolled off the sofa and onto the floor hugging
one another, still connected for moments, until withered
and well satiated, my tool lost its insane fury and retreated
to be its softer self. I think we fell asleep like that, for
the next thing I knew, the faintest light was glowing through
the curtains. With the movement of my waking, Sylvia stirred
as well, and we struggled to our feet. Both of us were a bit
rubbery in the knees as we staggered, holding on to one another,
and found our way to her bed. We kissed and she managed to
pull the sheet over us before we drifted off to dreamland
again. I sort of remember my last thought before unconsciousness,
what was the type of flower my mother had on her tush?


When we finally woke it was about ten in the morning. It being
Sunday, the shop was closed and I didn’t have work. My
parents had expected that we might get out of the dance late
and that I’d spend the night at my aunt’s. What they
were not going to find out was that we came home from the ball
relatively early and screwed long and hard. I balled my
relative, I was both long and hard, and I spent the rest of
the night sleeping in her bed. That was not going to slip
out, the way I had almost slipped up about Sally. I still
was unsure if the aunts had talked, or if each was independently
seducing me. Not such a difficult task either time. Sylvia
ordered a brunch delivered. I went back to my house in the
afternoon.


Mom wanted to hear all about my evening at the gala. So I told
her a sanitized version of the event. Then I made an error
in judgment. “Aunt Sylvie showed me her blue bell-bottoms.”
I could see that raised mom’s suspicions, but it was true.
I continued. “You know; the pants you and Aunt Sally used
to kid her about? She still had them hanging in the closet
and brought them out to show me. Told me how she used to wear
them constantly, as they were her favorite clothing, back
in the day. She even tried them on, they were a little too
tight. And they split!” This made mom burst out in a fit
of laughter.


Mom wouldn’t have thought it very funny if she had known
that her sister had not been wearing underpants at the time.
It left her whole crotch open and exposed. I took advantage
of the situation and took my aunt right there on the bed.
She was bent over and she lay prone on her stomach getting
fucked by her nephew, still in Adam’s un-attire. I put
it through the split fabric into her crack and fucked her
in her blue bell-bottoms, while her bluebell bottom was
held inclined to give full access to my fat tool. It was the
best cure for a hangover I ever had!


I then asked mom if I could get a tattoo. That got her eyes
narrowed and I knew she was wondering where that idea had
come from and if any hanky-panky HAD gone on between me and
her sister. But she decided that she was not going to ask
and open that can of worms just yet. So she answered, “Not
until your old enough.”


“I’m nineteen, almost twenty, I’m old enough.”



“No, you have to be older.”


“Twenty-one?”


“Twenty-five.”


“That can’t be the law?”


“It’s my rule, your mother’s rule; that’s a higher
authority than the law!”


“But you got a tattoo before you were twenty-five!”
Whoops! Me and my big mouth again.


“WHO told you about my tattoo?” She was angry, maybe
that I knew about the fact that she had a tattoo, but more
likely thinking that I knew the intimate details about
her decorated derrière.


I bluffed, “Uh… dad mentioned that you had one in an
unmentionable place which he didn’t mention where.”



“Your father knows about where it is, of course, but not
when I got it. Did Sally tell you about… mm… what age
I got it? Or was it the other blabber-mouth aunt?”


“It was a while back and I don’t remember which one it
was, but they just said that the three of you got them on .
. uh . . in New Orleans while you were doing the act. Since
I was born when you were twenty-four, that means you had
to be about twenty-two or three. ‘Elementary, my dear
Watson!’ I quipped the quote.”


“Oh, uh . . . yeah that’s right. And no, you’re not
getting a tattoo until you’re twenty-five and have grown
out of that silly notion! End of discussion.” Well it
was at that point, I was just glad to have escaped from the
‘Susan inquisition’ on aunts and private matters.
Me and my damn big mouth!


It wasn’t until next Friday that I really upset the apple
cart. I was home waiting for dinner, I had set the table and
dad would be down soon from changing his clothes. I had a
pad of note paper that we kept by the phone and a pen. I was
drawing. Mom came in, saw what I was doing, and looked over
my shoulder. “What’s that?”


“Oh, that’s just a design I was working on, for my tattoo.”



“What is it?” she puzzled at the big X with flames rising
from it.


“Well I wanted something masculine. I can’t very well
get butt-rcups.” Mother flushed slightly, and I just
had to push my luck. “I’m going to get one on each side.”



“I don’t get it, and you’re not getting them until
you’re twenty-five Mr.!”


“It’s easy. It’s a kind of a pun.” I paused to see
if she might catch on, but I was too subtle. Me and my big mouth.
I explained, “Hot crossed buns!”


Mom stood straight up like she had been jerked by a string
on the top of her head. She looked at me with the most peculiar
expression and suddenly I realized that I had really torn
it this time. She didn’t know the details but she was certain
that either one or both her sister’s had sex with me. She
walked back into the kitchen. I just sat there mentally
kicking myself. Dad appeared a few minutes later.


“Where’s your mother?”


“In the kitchen, she’s upset.” Dad went after her
to find out what the matter was. I figured he’d be steamed
too, when he found out. But he reported she wasn’t there.
We looked all over the house for her but didn’t find her.
Dad determined that her set of car keys was missing and got
on the horn to Sally, no she wasn’t there. Same with Sylvia.
Sylvia called back a few minutes later and asked to speak
to me. When I confessed what conversation had taken place
shortly before mom disappeared, she let out a big sigh.
Then she told me to get ready, she was picking me up in half
an hour.


The horn on her sporty Beamer honked thirty-five minutes
later and I came out to ride with her. I told dad only that
Sylvie and I were going to look for mom. Sally was in the back
seat as well. I rode shot gun. Sylvie hit the interstate
and headed north.


Leaning forward, Sal asked Silvie, “Have you got the
medicine?”


Her sister nodded and I wonder what that was about, but instead
asked, “Do you know where mom is?” Medicine sounded
ominous.


“She’ll be at the cabin. She always goes there when
she is totally pissed off, or very upset, and I’m sure
she’s both.”


“Can’t blame her, ” spoke Sally.


“OH! For God’s sake, Sal, she knew this might happen.
When she started talking eight inches, like dad, she knew.
She even warned us; but what did she think was going to happen
in THIS family? Considering the past transgressions?
Sorry kid, but while part of the conversations might be
over your head, you’re going to have to trust your aunts,
or should I refer to us as your lovers?”


I decided that too much shit had hit the fan already and being
open and honest with these two . . lovers would be better
in the long run, if things were to get smoothed over with
mom. Besides, if they knew that I knew, then it would be easier
to pour oil on the waters, if they weren’t so afraid that
I’d get splashed with things that stained our familial
history. So I told them I had overheard the conversation
a couple of weeks back and knew enough of what the trio of
troubled troubadours had tried to hide, and the trysts
they had with grandpa. That was a relief, to everyone, from
then on for the rest of the trip, I was regaled with reminiscences
of their freewheeling past on the road and how they took
their liberation to a very heady high.


That was the medicine. Sylvia had an ounce of primo with
her with, some joints already rolled. Before we arrived
we did a couple of doobies to help keep calm in the face of
storm Susan. Sure enough mom’s car was parked by the lodge.
We went in. When she saw the three of us, she got red, and then
looked each of us in the eye so that we saw how hurt and angry
she was. Then she just collapsed onto the overstuffed sofa
and broke down into tears. We pulled chairs in front of her
and Sylvie brought out the medicine. At first mom shook
her head, but Sally took the lit joint, took a puff, passed
it to me. I took a toke and passed it on to Sylvia, who took
a hit and held it out to mom again. This time she accepted
the J and sucked a lot of smoke then she had another hit. After
her third hit, Sylvie muttered the standard Bogart line
and took the doobie and passed it around again.


I could see mom starting to loosen up some. Sally said, “Sue,
your son knows about daddy.”


Before mom could freak out again Sylvie jumped in and spoke,
“He overheard that conversation we had, when we all found
out that we had been holding back from each other all these
years. Nobody told him, he didn’t intend to hear our secrets,
but there it is, out now between the Sisters Savoy and our
only child among the three of us. He doesn’t think any
the less of you, or us.”


“Sue, ” Sal reached out and took her hand and at the
same time stuck the joint in mom’s mouth to keep her quiet.
“You know that what we did; wasn’t the first time incest
has happened in our family, not with me, or Sylvia, or you.
And that won’t be the last time it happens with me, or our
sister, or your son… or you.”


Sylvia said softly, “I think you’re more upset that
we had the lad, and you think you can’t; because you’re
his mother. But parent and child didn’t stop you and pop,
did it? You’re the most beloved and belusted of your boy.
He wants you. You want him. Don’t you Sue?”


Mom nodded a little and took another big hit. My cock was
getting hard. This was a development I had not foreseen
on the way to the lake!


“Look, he’s getting hard just thinking about the possibility
of you and him!” Sally pointed out.


“He wants to see your tattoo. How about we show him his
mother’s art work?” Sylvia started to unbutton mom’s
blouse. Sal reached down and took off her shoes. My aunts
were seducing my mother for me! Sylvia took off mother’s
shirt and Sally unzipped mom’s skirt. Mom lay back as
the clothes were pealed from her one by one. At last, her
bra was unhooked by Sal and I saw the wonderful pair of mom’s
mams I had always dreamed of. Sylvia turned her over as mom
lay lengthwise on the couch so she was on her tummy. Then
she pulled down the panties and there, just like the other
sister’s were two purple flowers, tulips. I bent over
and kissed them.


Then I began kissing my way up mom’s spine. If the moment
hadn’t been so tender and moving, it would have been funny
to see my aunts getting me stripped as I kissed and kissed
my mother’s back. She was still face down and couldn’t
see the face of the son being denuded by the other two. She
lay calmly and waited until I had come to her shoulders.
As she turned back around, my shirt was helped off and we
were naked in each other’s presence, certainly for the
first time since I had been a toddler. Now I was a man and she
a woman, I was hard and her pussy glistened. I moved over
her onto the sofa and she spread her legs. Everything seemed
to be slightly in slow motion, and I was taking my time not
rushing this special moment.


Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my aunts stripping, but
I really only had focus on mom and her beautiful body. She
has a full bush, the furry triangle spread as I neared. Sally
had a small ‘landing-strip’ patch, and Sylvia was
clean and bald. I found mom’s au natural state the sexiest
of the three. But I was not saying a word, only acting, being
the lover she had waited for since her last time with Grandpa,
I imagined. Her arms rose to embrace me, I let myself down
on her, my big tool resting on her thatch even as my weight
was on my elbows. I kissed her two lips. Then Frenched her,
as my dick began to rub, to find the soft wet slot midst her
labia. She raised her legs to help me center, then I was skidding
the slick path that led to her hole with the pole that would
fulfill her and fill her full.


Then down – down I went, sliding into the heated depths;
up – up the hot tube of tissue that enveloped me. Tight,
so that I could feel every millimeter of progress I made
of penetration, because my mother had practice in making
my dad’s dick seem bigger, so my mighty missile benefited
from squeezing muscles that mom applied out of habit. My
prick was super-sensitive from the buzz I had on; from the
knowledge that this was the ultimate vagina that I had lusted
after. In short, my full length was provided the greatest
fuck in all my eight inches and score of years, or in all my
twenty years and 210 millimeters, I had ever had the pleasure
to score. I bet it was the best balling that old couch had
ever hosted as well!


They say an artist is only as good as his tools. Well, my tool
was doing damn good! I sawed in mom’s box with my cock,
I hammered her cunt with my hard-on, I screwed her twat with
my driver, I drilled her hole with every bit of energy I had.
We went at it like we were in a porno film, one that had slow-motion
at times, and then back to regular speed. The variation
in pace was keeping things from climaxing too early, yet
we couldn’t help ourselves in our hunger for one another’s
bodies. So it was a balance of desire and prolonging the
exquisite physical excitement unleashed and running
rampant. Meanwhile adding to the sheer dirty, nasty and
sinful milieu, if not melee, were Sylvia and Sally naked,
seated right close to us side by side, and diddling each
other’s pussy while they watched!


“He’s fucking her! He’s fucking his mom!” Sylvia
was letting out her turn-on about my lust for mom verbally,
her excited tone pitched higher than usual. “Look Sal,
they’re doing it, mother and son having sex finally,
like they always wanted to. Oh God, that is so hot!!”


Sally also was commenting from the inner demons that possessed
her, “Just like daddy, he’s fucking just like daddy;
with that big dick, that beautiful handsome huge cock!
It’s all the way in her, Sylvie, it just can’t stop plunging
so deep and hard and all the way, all the way in!”


But while I was only peripherally aware of my aunts and what
they were burbling, mom was in my ear with her own rant of
crazy lust. “Yes, give it to me, your wonderful hunk,
your special meat, that mighty muscle I have craved for
so long. Ever since you started to have pubic hair I had a
hankering for the dick dangling between your legs. And
when I saw you beating-off and all erect I got so hot that
I soaked my panties, just thinking about if this ever happened.
I somehow knew it would. Just like with daddy, I couldn’t
resist the temptation. I realized that I would fuck you
if I ever got half a chance. And now, you’re doing it, we’re
doing it and I love it, I love you; I love my sisters for bringing
you here and getting us together. Did you know that, that
mommy wanted to fuck you? Fuck her BIG boy?”


I was spurred by her words; I went in to overdrive and slammed
into her vagina so that I was knocking against the cervix
every stroke. I needed to release my cum at that very center
so that my semen might gush into her womb and impregnate
her. Sylvia had informed me that she had her tubes tied,
right after being married, as they didn’t want kids.
Sally had her operation and was unable to get knocked up
any more. But as far as I knew, mom was still fertile. I had
wondered about pop, if he had a low sperm count or what was
the story about me being an only child? But if mom still had
viable eggs I was out to fertilize any that were in place
for my swimming wrigglers to reach. It was was animal, it
was emotional, it was the fundamental drive to reproduce,
there was no thinking – just the mating instinct.


I began to cry out the words that Sylvie had first released
from me, “Yes, mom, Oh YES! Susan fuck me! I love you mom,
I need you! I love you mom, so much, so much! I have to… I
have to…. fuck you, I have to fuck you! I have to… I…
I have to cum… CUM IN YOU NOOWWW!!!”


Mom answered my orgasmic outburst, “YES!! Baby, do it
to mommy, do it to me, give me your cum, shoot in me, shoot
in mommy all your sweet sperm! OH! YES! I FEEL IT! I’M CUMMING
TOO! MOMMY’S CUMMING WITH HER BOY!!”


Both the two on the chairs were wriggling and writhing around
as they were triggered by the lewd scene they were witness
to. Then we all were gasping for air and sweat poured off
four people like we had just come in from a rainstorm. “LAKE!”
yelled Sylvia.


“LAKE!” Echoed Sally.


“LAKE… Laakkee!” my mother took up the chant and
drew it out as a long squeaky call as she struggled to get
up. I gave way and saw my aunts headed out the door toward
the water, in the twilight. Mom was close behind, but she
was dragging me along by my hand, the arm nearly pulled from
the socket the first jerk was so unexpected.


But I understood in a flash that the steamy overheating
from that wild sexual saturnalia could be best refreshed
by the, “LAKE!” I shouted as I ran holding my mom’s
hand and first Sylvie, then Sal, then mom and I together
jumped off the side of the dock; mom just missing Sally.
The water felt perfect. For about three minutes as we treaded
and floated in the six to seven foot depth. Then Sally started
to shiver and began to walk out toward the shore. The rest
of us followed and when we were standing there on the grass,
dripping again, but cooled now and beginning to dry in the
warm air. We looked at on another and I realized that this
was a very unusual event the four of us there together naked
and knowing that I had had sex with each of them.


In fact, it then occurred to me that two had been having fun
while mom and I had screwed. It did not seem like that was
the first time they had done that sort of thing, they were
too practiced. That was an area for inquiry, knowing my
aunts and mom also being the fallen angels of the salacious
Savoy household. There were other questions that the skinny
dipping reminded me of too. But for the moment we were headed
back inside, once there the towels and blankets were broken
out. But none of us got dressed. Nudity seemed to be a standard
mode of fashion at the lodge. Certainly sex had been a common
activity, that had to be a given, knowing what I been privy
too about the trio of wayward women with me.


Back at the cabin, several more joints got rolled, while
drinks were procured as well, the sisters Savoy knew how
to party. We settled down on the furniture, Mom and Sylvia
on the sofa and myself next to mom, aunt Sal sat in one of the
close by chairs. With another joint making the round and
beer for me and mom, screwdrivers mixed for the aunts, I
thought the time had arrived I could ask some questions.
I began with what I had seen my aunts doing, my curiosity
bursting. “So, I guess triplets… uh… help each other
to… uh” the words just wouldn’t come out and not seem
prudish, which I wasn’t obviously.


“You mean help each other get off?” Sylvie; always
to the heart of the matter and never shy.


“Yeah, ” I grunted.


“Oh, when you’re triplets, or I suppose it goes for
twins too sometimes, playing with your identical sibling
is almost like masturbating.”


“Only when one of you is doing it to the other, it’s even
better, ” mom explained. Then she reached over and lightly
pinched Sylvie’s nipple and her sis reciprocated; like
some medieval painting I once saw. “You should see the
sisters Savoy in our daisy-chain!”


“It blew my husband’s mind!” said Sylvia.


“Mine’s too” declared Sally.


“Mine three, ” chorused mom.


“Was that when you all went skinny dipping, or another
time?” I had to ask about that.


“That’s right; we mentioned the orgy, when you overheard
us talking about… lots of things.” Sylvie chuckled.



Mom was not quite as amused, but Sal smirked and said, as
she held in a toke, “About your long dong!”


“It wasn’t an orgy, ” mom explained and took a hit,
then drank a swallow of brew before she blew it out.


“It was Sylvia’s idea; she got your mom and me to agree
to her plan.”


“See, my husband, in fact all the boys, after a while, ”
Sylvia began, “were a little curious. We all got married
in our mid-twenties and after a few years of family get togethers,
seeing their wives and their clones at the same time, the
guys were wondering if the three of us were identical in
certain ways, sexually to be blunt.”


“It’s not as if they were wondering if we like the same
kind of pizza, or preferred romances or mysteries. But
did we screw the same? Did we dig cunnilingus or fellatio,
did we cum the same way, make the same sounds?” Sally elaborated.



“It wasn’t blatant questions, but subtle hints of
interest. One day we, your aunts and I were comparing notes
on our hubbies, and the topic came up.”


“Whereas, I suggested that we have a little shindig up
at the cabin and settle their questions.”


“So you swapped partners, had an orgy. Did that happen
often?”


“NO!” Mom took a deep breath and calmed herself down.
“No, we did not swap, but we did skinny dip, so all the guys
got to see that there wasn’t much of a difference between
the three of us, physically.” Sylvie lit another doobie
and gave it to mom after she took a big inhalation, mom toked
and gave it to me; I had a hit and passed it to Sal.


“The idea, ” Sylvie explained, “was to answer their
questions and douse any lust by showing them that they had
made the best choice of the three for themselves. That each
had gotten the right woman for him.”


Sally passed the J to Sylvie and continued illuminating
the strategy. “They saw the tattoos of course, and our
bodies naked, but when we all screwed it was with each of
our spouses.”


“To put them in the hot and horny mood though, we did our
triangular daisy chain. That really got them raring to
go!” laughed mom, now looser and she chugged the rest
of her beer.”


“So, ” Sylvie took up the narrative, “Each of the
couples were fucking in the room here, I was on the couch
with mine, Sally rode her hubby on the rug and your mom sat
on your dad’s dick while he was seated on one of the chairs.”



“How did they reach the conclusion they got the best of
the three of you for their wife?” I pondered, since that
was not obvious to me.


Mom got up. “Come here for a minute, Honey, ” she said
to me going over to a framed something on the wall. I followed
her. “See this? Remember that thing?” It was three
hand prints of the triplets from when they were little girls.
On one piece of paper, about six by eighteen inches horizontally,
a row of right hands in red and blue and green. “We did these
when we were in first grade, the teacher thought it would
be cute to have all three together and daddy framed it. Which
is which, can you tell?” I looked. I had seen it before
of course, but it was background, like the fish over the
fire place, which Grandpa had caught and had mounted. But
the meaning was not much beyond my general knowledge until
then.


I shook my head, and mom continued. “Of course not right
off the bat, no one can tell the difference between us three,
if we don’t want them to. Especially when we were younger.”
She held out her hand, the palm facing me. “Look, now study
my lines. Now which one is my hand print?”


I looked at her hand and back at the three prints in the frame
on the wall. “The red one, the lines split, just like on
your palm.”


“Right!” She took her seat and snatched the joint from
Sylvie. I resumed my seat as well. Mom sucked smoke; then
passed me the J as she exhaled. “See, that’s what our
husbands all discovered that day we had our little . . . uh
. . . perhaps ‘saturnalia’ would do as a description.
They realized that while we looked the same outside . . .”



Sally spoke, “Except for our tattoos of course.”


“That we were all quite different in many details, especially
when it came to sex, ” finished mom.


“Except for liking big dicks like daddy’s and yours,
of course!” said Sylvia reaching over and handled my
member, it grew a little more. The thought of their erotic
wingding with the six having sex all at the same time, even
if not all together or swinging was touching up its tumescence
already.


“But we couldn’t tell them about that. In fact, as you
heard, we hadn’t even told each other about our flings
with our pop.” Mom said with a wistful tone. She absently
took a hit. I grabbed the doobie as I was buzzing good but
this was blowing my mind.


Sylvia made the point clear. “Remember, that we all had
been married by then for several years. So each of us knew
what our partner’s turn-on’s were and what made them
tick sexually. The others were not treating their spouses
with the kind of TLC that made each of the couples’ screwing
unique. Thus, they concluded that their wife was the right
one for them. Plus what man could stand the challenge to
his ego, that his gal was not the fairest of the three, or
should I say hottest sex kitten.”


“Exactly. Your dad still thinks I’m top-cat in the
pussy department, just as you have a special spot for me
in your heart too, Honey.” mother put a cap on the matter.



“Tell me about the tattoos, I’ve seen all three by now,
but what’s the story about when you got them.” Sally
got up and retrieved an old album from some shelf on the far
side of the room. She gave it to Sylvia who searched through
it, but mom seemed to know what they were looking for and
flipped to it right away. I was handed a blow up of a photograph
of the three of them out of the scrapbook.


“Mom explained, “This is from when we had a gig in New
Orleans, at the height of our short career in show biz. We
visited during Mardi Gras and had these tee-shirts custom
made for us. That’s just before we got the tattoos, so
you could tell one from another of us, if you were that intimate.
Also, so we couldn’t pull the classic switcharoo, where
one girl substitutes for her sister on a date, and the fella
can’t tell the difference. We used to do it sometimes
in high school to a new boy, if the other sister changed her
mind about going out with him. It didn’t quite work so
well after the guy got to know you. Too many details to keep
straight about previous dates.”


“But when Sylvie snuck in and did a switch with a guy that
Sally really liked, that was ruled out of bounds. So that
no one of us could ever pull that off in the future, ’cause
when it’s husbands that’s a whole different ‘ball’
game, we made a pact. We would get small tattoos of flowers
on our lower buttocks so that any man who got us in bed could
be sure of which one he was screwing. Sally got the roses,
like her tee-shirt. See in the photo? That set the pattern,
I got the tulips and Sylvia the bluebells. So Sally had ‘rosy
cheeks’, Sylvie had bluebells on her bottom, like her
favorite blue bell-bottom pants. With me, ‘kiss my tulips’
meant you can kiss my ass!”


In the picture of the trio they looked so alike that no one
could have figured out who was who. But they each had a different
tee-shirt on. Sally’s was beige and had two roses, the
stems crossed so that the blooms were situated over her
breasts at the spots where her nipples would be. Underneath
in Kelly green letters it read: IT’S FUN TO BE POLLINATED!


Sylvia was in the middle, it had to be her because you could
see she had on her infamous blue bell-bottoms. Her shirt
had a pair of bluebells placed in not quite so risqué fashion.
Hers was light blue and read in bright blue lettering: WANNA TOUCH MY PETALS?


Mom’s purple tulips were straight stemmed, but like
aunt Sal’s right over the nips, as you could clearly see
them poking up under the lavender fabric. In green letters
it declared: YOU CAN KISS MY TWO LIPS!


There were definitely no bras under those tees, and the
tits teased any guy with six nubile nubs poking out. The
Sisters Savoy were clearly having lots of fun in Louisiana.
They sported big grins and were the ‘girls gone wild’
of their day. For sure, they were not quite tame yet, as recent
events had proven. I was positive that when the photo had
been taken, from what I knew by that amazing conversation
I had been privy to unbeknownst to them at the time; that
they each had long since been deflowered. Perhaps by Grandpa
himself?


“Hey! I think his battery is fully recharged!” announced
mom as she took hold of my boner. Sylvia gave her a sad puppy
dog look and Sally followed suit. Mother rolled her eyes
and stood. “UP! Everybody up!”


“He already is, ” Said Sylvie dryly.


But everybody stood. Mom dragged the cushions from the
sofa to the floor moving the chairs out of the way with Sally’s
help, and arranged them in a tee formation. She directed
me to lay down with my head on the wide end. “Sally loves
cunnilingus and doesn’t get enough from her hubby.”
She maneuvered Sal to sit on my face. “Sylvia misses fellatio,
since her old man died, and she would like to lick your fat
lollipop.” Sylvie knelt down between my legs and promptly
began to suck. Mom placed herself alongside the three of
us and just watched as she fingered herself. I was lapping
at Sal now steadily and everybody was getting some sort
of jollies. Sylvia knew what she was doing and inspired
me to give Sally great head. Mom was making suggestions
to each of us and then she was on her knees kissing Sal.


Sylvia called, “He’s ready for you Sue!” She joined
the kissing, the three sisters were for a moment a trinity
of luscious, lascivious ladies, then like they were doing
a practiced gymnastic move, mom mounted my stiff staff
of pleasure and it slid into her well oiled cunt, Sally switched
with Sylvie who was instead, facing mom, while my tongue
tickled her cunt. Sally moved behind mom and ran her hands
over her sister’s breast and down to her clit and labia,
then back up. Mom brought my hands to Sylvie’s tits and
I plucked at the rosy erect caps and squeezed the ripe fruit
I had been provided. Mother rode up and down my saddle horn,
at the same time reached back and found the mons of Sal and
rubbed it. Then as I was beginning to bounce and another
cum was rising in me, she scooted forward and Sally hopped
on to my tool. Now I was straddled by all three gals.


Mom and Sylvie kissed and diddled each other as I had to gasp
for air. Seeing mom in a lez thing was too much and I blasted
away in Sally a full load of cum. She grabbed mom’s hooters
and held on as she climaxed on my blasting rod, mom came with
that sibling satisfied, and I gave three long licks to the
length of Sylvia’s slit and that brought her to gush as
she orgasmed also. Once more the four of us were coated with
spit and sperm, sweat and orgasmic juices. There was no
outcry for lake, we just wandered out on into the night still
shaky legs and waded out until we were about waist deep then
rinse each other off. Which turned into a splash fight fest,
instigated by Sylvia. When we had our fill of the chilly
water and had started up the lawn, we heard the ring-tone
of Sally’s cell back at the house

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quite a story two aunts and Mom all for one and one for all
what fun and sex

11/19/2014

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What a story!!! fun to read, an did He breed his mom?

11/20/2014

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That really was a hot story. Thanks!!!

11/20/2014

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very enlightening and enjoyable very good

11/21/2014

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Great story how about a second part

11/26/2014

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one very lucky guy would of been great to just do his 2 aunts but getting his mom also put it over the top!!!

7/29/2017

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Wonderful and well written.

8/2/2017

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really enjoyed reading that story thank you

9/18/2017