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My First Time Was With The Daughter The Second Was With Her Mom Part 2

I was shocked as anyone to find Melissa and her mom, Helen, sitting in my parents' living room -- upon my return from work at the grocery store. Everybody seemed really serious. Did Helen confess to my parents that I had been fucking her daughter all summer long? My conservative parents would've castrated me. Actually, let me correct that. My conservative father would've taken me aside and given me a high five for getting laid. But my conservative and Christian mother, well, let me put it this way... I would have to spend my remaining days in their home sleeping with one eye open.

My parents patted the sofa cushion next to them, and asked me to sit down between them. I looked at Melissa for assurance, and her eyes were in her lap. Holy shit! What was happening?!

"We've been having a conversation here," my father started out. "And we've decided that since Helen says that you've been such a nice, young man, and a gentleman towards Melissa, that you can go with Helen and Melissa -- to drive Melissa to college, and to help her move in. Helen said that she's kept an eye on you all summer, and we trust that you will continue to make good choices."

Wait, what?! How the shit did Helen pull this off? And, yeah, it was certainly Helen. Melissa probably would've stripped off her clothes and shook her tits in my dad's face (not that he would've minded).

So I said that I would do it, and my parents both hugged me. They told me what a nice young man I was, and even Helen nodded.

The drive down to PA took about 10 hours. For whatever reason, Helen would not let Melissa and I share a bed in the hotel. So, I slept in my own double bed with a huge erection that nobody would take care of. Little did I know...

Moving Melissa into college was as you might expect: far too many clothes, far too much furniture, and it was hot as balls outside. And I write this as somebody who was young (but at age of consent) and with a full head of hair at the time. Melissa didn't actually move anything, and Helen leaned on me to do most (if not all) of the heavy lifting, which I did. Melissa would be gone for hours on end. She'd meet a new male in her dorm, and would disappear. She would meet her new roomie and her friends, and she would disappear.

I was kind of pissed about all of this. Back then, though, I was naive about everything. The jealousy and all of that shit was precisely as you might expect: stupid. I had been hoping that Melissa and I might fuck in her dorm room, or in the public shower down the hall, but no. I never slept with Melissa again as we shipped her off to college. In fact, she showed up late when Helen and I packed up the car then departed the college the next morning.

Helen and I started driving back to NY. I was basically silent, even though Helen kept trying to engage me in conversation. Helen asked me to stop at a rest stop at the PA/NY border, and said that she was going to call my parents. "Holy fuck," I said to myself. "Maybe she's mad that I haven't been a gentleman, that I've been a jealous asshole, etc." And, boy, was I wrong. Helen got back into the car, after I refilled it with gas, using her credit card, and she told me to get off at the next exit.

"I told you rparents that we're both pooped, and that we need to crash for the night, and they are fine with it," she told me. "Pull in here."

Remember that show, "COPS"? The motel was a lot like that. A man, he who had hit his wife, was holed up in the motel room. The cops would knock before breaking the door down. Then, shirtless, he would be arrested. Cue: exit theme for "COPS". The motel was a LOT like that show. There was a chain restaurant next door, and Helen asked me if I was into having some fajitas there, later. I said that I was, and she told me to go and take a shower, and to get changed. Then she would do the same.

What happened next was totally incredible. To this day, it puts the widest smile on my face.

Just like a movie starring Honey Wilder, Helen appeared from the bathroom as I sat at the end of the bed. I tried to hide the fact that I was watching the movie "Body Double" on HBO, and fumbled to change the channel by hitting random buttons on the tv. There was no tv remote at that classy establishment. Helen clearly saw the tent that was appearing in my jeans, and my immature attempts at changing the tv channels to NBC or something innocuous. And she laughed, and basically gave me an "oh, you" look. Strangely, it set me at ease. For the second time, ever, I didn't feel bad about being a sexual person.

Helen had been in the bathroom for about an hour. I was just at the crazy scene in "Body Double" where the "hero" clashed with "the Indian" in a sewer drain, or whatever that pipe was, and the "hero" kind of freaked out, and collapsed. Even though there was no sex in that scene, I always found it hot. Why? Because the unknown to me has always been hot. I used to wake up in the middle of the night to watch "Body Double" on my parents' tv, given the "immoral" movies that were said to be showing off hours, in the HBO programming guide, and would watch that movie over and over -- with the volume on the tv completely suppressed. I used to make up dialog for that movie in my head, and you can only imagine how awesome that was. God, things were so much "fun" back then. HAHA!

So, here stood Helen before me. She was wearing this tight, navy blue dress, and it was adorned with this beautiful pearl neckless (not sure if it was real or fake). Helen's navy blue dress showed a hint of cleavage, and she wore these black high heels. She wasn't wearing stockings or hose (I was disappointed, because I totally liked that "Whitesnake" look in the 1980s), but her legs were athletic and hot. And I still have an admiration for "knobby" kneecaps. While she stood with her legs together, you could make out daylight between her knees and her crotch. I still like that look to this day. I call it a "thigh gap" and it still resonates with me. Her graying hair was pulled back into a ponytail (still love that), and she was wearing too much makeup (love that still too).

She told me that she'd intended to wear it for a dinner ahead of leaving the campus, but that Melissa never showed up. So, there we'd sat in the dorm, waiting and waiting, and Melissa never showed up. That was Melissa's way, though, and while Helen and I had begged for food service at the student center at the time (and we got it -- Helen was super persuasive), the two of us ended housing a bunch of burgers and salad bar offerings before crashing in Melissa's dorm room, in separate beds, ahead of what took place here.

Helen locked arms with me as we walked towards the chain restaurant. I started to get semi hard again. Thank goodness that it was (mostly) dark outside. Helen ordered for us, and she told the server that "it was fine, because I was her son and that I'd just left my ID in the motel room" before ordering us two margaritas. I hadn't been a drinker at that point, and having liquor really made me tipsy. I kept looking at Helen's cleavage, and I couldn't help it. Well, I was a total perv, and plus she kept playing with her pearl necklace, and that further drew emphasis on her cleavage. After some fajitas and another margarita, we stumbled across the parking lot back to the motel.

Helen pushed me on to the bed as soon as we got back to the room. And she pushed my legs apart as she pushed her ponytail aside. "Unzip me, please," she asked. And I unzipped her sexy, navy blue dress as she let it fall to the floor, pooling around her feet. She was standing in front of a tall mirror in the foyer of our crappy motel room, she she gazed back at me through the reflective glass. "Take off your clothes," she implored me. "Then lay back down on the bed." I quickly stripped, and did as I was told.

And there she stood in front of the motel room mirror. She was wearing a shear bra and no panties, and just her heels. I always thought that women always wore panties, but again, mind blown. Unlike Melissa, Helen was busty, and her tits (with dark nipples -- also unlike Melissa) showed a bit of sag after having two kids (Melissa has a brother). But, as Helen spoke to me, making eye contact with me through the reflection of the mirror, I could see her nipples coming to full attention. She unclasped the clasp at the front of her bra, and let it fall to the floor. And there she was, wearing her heels aside, in all of her beauty. Her torso had various stretch marks, as did her belly, but my god... what a beautiful woman.

And then I was surprised, again. She asked me if I enjoyed my summer of fucking Melissa. I kind of demurred, but she hissed into the mirror that I should just be honest. Young as I was (but of consenting age), I spilled. I told her all about the night at the pool, how it was hot that Melissa and I would just fuck openly with her door open, that I liked how Melissa just walked around with barely clothes on, and so forth. Then I begged for Helen to not tell my parents about my debauchery. Helen told me that this was all healthy and fine, and that I shouldn't worry about it. Then, she...

Well, Helen asked me if I would be into fucking her. She said it just like that. She told me that Melissa had already been with a bunch of guys (I still believe that). Then she told me that she saw us fucking more than once, and asked if we ever used condoms. Uh oh. Melissa told me that she was on the pill, but Helen then told me that she would've known if Melissa was on the pill. Maybe Melissa was on the pill, but was hiding it? Maybe it was all a lie? I got even harder then, and pre cum was pouring out of me. That's the exact moment that I realized how much I love bareback and its risks. You might think that I am stupid (intellectually speaking, I can compete, and yes, over the years I have largely curtailed my stupid behaviors), and at that time? I was stupid a million percent.

Helen told me, point blank, that I was a beautiful specimen of a young man, and that she hoped that after that night -- we would keep on fucking. Point black. Verbatim. I'm not a troll, but I'm not an adonis, either. Holyfuckingshit.

She reached into her purse, and grabbed a condom. As her hands briefly ranged all over my body, including my nipples (which I LOVE to this day!), she took me in her mouth, bare, a few times, then settled the condom on my cock head, and rolled it all the way down with her mouth.

She asked me again if I had any reservations, and I nodded "no".

Then Helen mounted me for the first time. Back then, condoms were shitty and barely lubed, so I felt her heat, but didn't cum immediately. When I was young (but of age!), I would cum in Melissa about 3-4 times per night/afternoon/whatever.

She started whispering in my ear about how much I enjoyed fucking Melissa. She told me to whisper back to her. I could not believe what was playing out here. She told me how hot and beautiful it made her feel when she took a lover whilst wearing her sexy, high heels. WOW!

Helen had a full bush. So when she pulled off me for the first time and asked me to go down on her, I was underwhelmed. There, I admit it. I prefer small to zero amounts of pubic hair. At the time that I fucked Helen for the first time, my chest and public area hairs were just starting to grow back.

And yet, as I tongued Helen through copious amounts of her pubic hair, she forcing my head and tongue back into her crevice, I could not get enough. She kept asking questions about how I fucked her daughter, which was odd, but highly hot. I didn't respond because I was so deep in Helen's snatch.

"Did I like how Melissa would walk around topless?"

"Did I know how Melissa would wear Helen's lingerie to bed?"

"Did I know that Melissa borrowed her heels and stirrup pants from Helen?"

"Did I know how Melissa wanted me to pump a baby into her?"

Next thing I know, Helen is basically convulsing, and then opens her clenched thighs and pushes my head away -- so that she can finish cumming. Holy shit, again. Holyfuckingshitballs.

This is long before I knew about incest (yeah, I was stunted) or even thought about it. But that fact that Helen kept bringing up her daughter was almost bringing me over the edge. Thank goodness that she pushed me off when she did. I was enjoying it. I was enjoying all of it.

When Helen got on her back and guided me inside of her, nature took its course. I found her legs and pulled them over my shoulders. I would like to think that we fucked for an hour, but we certainly didn't. I think that we fucked for maybe 15 minutes before I unloaded into the condom, collapsed on top of her, watched QVC on the motel tv, then fell asleep whilst cuddling.

I awoke in the middle of the night to Helen being on top of me. She was sliding her labia up and down my (hard) shaft, and she teased me with me (not) getting inside of her. I tried. Believe me, I tried. She reached to the nightstand, and put a condom on me -- before riding me to completion.

The next morning she joined me in the shower, and basically the same thing played out. I plunged into her once and stroked twice, but she slapped me in the face, and exited the shower. Then she put another condom on me, and we fucked again in the shower.

The ride back to my parents' was mostly quiet until Helen broke the ice. "So, tell you what," she said, fiddling with the dial on the FM radio. "If you're worried about your parents, then I've got that covered. But I'm game to continue this, if you are. I always need a strong, young man to help me with work at the house. You know what I mean by 'work', right? And maybe, just maybe -- no promises -- you won't have to use a condom in the future. What do you say?"

So, Helen checked in with my parents, and all was good. They said that, "maybe we've raised a good kid after all." Little did they know. My experiences with Melissa and Helen taught me that I'm not into the same old-same old types of relationships. For the next 18 months, I would fuck Melissa when she was home from college, assuming that she didn't have a boyfriend at the time (which was rare), and I'd fuck Helen more often than that. I have no idea if Melissa knew that I was fucking her mom.

Helen gave me a special gift later on, but that is a story for another time.

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