Election Day Ch. 01

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Merhaba sifon.info porno sex hikayeleri okuyucuları,derlediğimiz en büyük hikaye arşivini sizlerin beğenisine sunuyoruz.Aradığınız tüm hikayeler burada

Election Day was coming, and Mom was busy getting ready for it. We lived in a small rural community, and Mom was always in charge of the elections, so a couple of days beforehand we would go to the small community house and get set up. The community house was nestled in a grove of trees across the street from the elementary school and when we pulled into the parking lot, Meghan’s car was already there.

Meghan was Mom’s best friend, her assistant voting officer, and the mother of my best friend, John, or M, as I called him. Meghan opened her car door as we drove up and I was so glued to the sight of her legs swinging out of the door to notice John was standing at my door. He knocked on the glass.

“What are you doing, M? Go to sleep or something?” I called him, “M,” and he called me the same thing. It was kind of a secret between us, and even though our parents asked where that came from, we’d never tell.

Of course I hadn’t gone to sleep. He had to have seen my eyes on his Mother’s legs, and we knew each other well enough that I was sure he knew what I was thinking. Seniors in high school, John and I spent a lot of our time together talking about the one thing that is most common in teen-aged boys conversations — pussy. We had a kind of game, where one of us would name a girl or teacher at school, and the other would describe what she would look like naked, and what she would do when one of us fucked her. Of course, the two of us were still virgins, which is why we talked about sex and didn’t do anything about it.

I got out of the car and punched him on his arm. “Yeah, I nodded off a little.”

Mom and Meghan were at the door of the building, unlocking it, and Mom yelled back at us. “Bring the boxes from the back, boys, and then we’ll set up.”

John shouted back at her, “We’ve got it, Linda. Be right in.”

Then he whispered to me so our Moms couldn’t hear. “God, she looks good in those pants. How do you stand it?”

Yep. We talked about our own Mothers, just as we talked about the girls at school. For a long time we had avoided that, acting as if our Moms were not even female and, even if they were, remained off-limits for our fantasies. That had changed one night a couple of months earlier when John was spending the night at our house. We were in my room playing a video game and Mom had come in to tell us good night. She had on a pair of yoga pants and tee shirt, and was obviously not wearing a bra.

“Good night, boys. Don’t stay up too late, and turn the volume down on that thing. You know how the noise bothers your Father when he’s trying to sleep.”

We mumbled our understanding and she turned to go out of the room. Standing sideways to us in the doorway, she blew a kiss and then closed the door.

John whistled lowly. “Good God, man. Did you see her nipples? I’ve never seen nipples so hard and standing out like that.” Then he paused and looked at me out of the side of his eye. He had just crossed a line, you see, and didn’t know how I was going to react. I saw his body tense, preparing for the hell that was to come if he had pissed me off.

“I know, brother. Sometimes she comes in to tell me goodnight with just a tee shirt and panties. I wear myself out every night. Sometimes you can even see her bush through the panties. She has no clue.”

That broke the dam. From that point on, our Mothers became the primary characters in about all our mutual fantasies and conversations. We even starting calling each other, “Motherfucker,” which would always get a laugh. Of course, you can’t call your buddy Motherfucker in every situation, so we finally shorted in to “M.” We knew what it meant, and nobody else needed to know.

Like most young men, we wondered if fucking your own Mother was even possible, or if it was just the fevered musings of frustrated guys on message boards. We were experts at every porn site that had mother-son sex, and talked about the actors as if they were Academy Award winners.

But the true stars were always our own Moms. We held nothing back. I knew that Meghan was a true blonde, and John knew that Mom was a legitimate redhead. For my part, I knew that because I had caught Mom getting out the shower once, years ago, and the image was burned into my memory. John knew about Meghan because she was a little more open around him and didn’t mind when he barged into her bedroom when she was getting dressed. I guess she never wondered why he seemed to have a burning question every time she was dressing. I had tried that once with Mom, and she flipped out. “What the hell are you doing,” she whispered through gritted teeth. “Don’t you knock?” I didn’t try that again.

But back to the present. I looked where John was looking — Mom’s ass as she walked in the door — and sighed. “Yeah. That is a sweet ass, for sure, but Meghan’s is just as good, and you know it.”

We laughed together, then went to the trunk to unload the ballot boxes and carry them in. When we walked into the large room that was the polling kağıthane escort place, Meghan whistled. “Look at the muscles on our boys, Linda. It took two of us to lift those boxes.”

Mom was busy setting up the tables, and barely looked up. “That’s because they’re not boys anymore, Meg. They’ve grown up.” She looked first to John, then to me. “They’ve become fine men, and we’re not going to have them much longer. I don’t know who will help us when they go away to college.”

“Maybe you can get Bill Packer to do it,” Meghan said, and then laughed.

Mom threw a pencil at her, and then laughed herself. “No chance of that, my young friend.” Bill Packer was the school football coach, and his lust for my Mom was pretty obvious. Hell, his lust for about all the team moms was obvious. He was a known horndog, and we wondered just how much pussy he got. The way he stared at the cheerleaders made us all wonder just when he would get fired, but so far he had not. Lecher or not, he was a good football coach, and we just hoped he didn’t get fired before he took us to the state championship.

After the tables were set up, Mom and Meghan hung the skirt around the tables. John and I had asked, once, what the skirt was for and Meghan had said, “So that people will concentrate on voting and not on your Mom’s legs.” That made sense, because the individual voting booths were facing the tables. The process was that each voter would enter the room, go to the registration table where Mom and Meghan would check their name against the large book that included all registered voters. The voter would receive a ballot, go to an empty booth to vote, then deposit the ballot in a slotted and locked ballot box at either end of the registration table. Smooth and seamless, it was a process that had been the same for years.

When we were kids, John and I would play with our trucks in the corner. Those were some of my favorite memories, as each resident would file in, talk with our Moms, and then do their civic duty. John and I would see many of the parents of our friends, and we’d feel important because our Mothers were in charge. But as election security became more strict, the rules changed and absolutely no one was allowed into the polling place except the staff – our Moms – and the voters. No one was allowed to just hang around inside, and that included John and me. Mom was always a stickler for rules. I’m sure she could have worked around it — we were their kids, after all — but she wouldn’t even consider it.

Until John and I got old enough to be on our own, Mom and Meghan would hire a babysitter for us for the time when we got out of school until they got home. Depending on the importance of the election and the number of people who voted, that could be late. After the polls closed at 7:00 PM, Mom and Meghan would carry the loaded boxes to Mom’s car, drive them to the county seat, and wait until the boxes were officially opened and the votes tallied. Sometimes it would be one or two in the morning before they got home.

This election day was one of those important ones, with the election of President on the ballot. Our plan was for Meghan and John to spend the night with us so they could open the polls to be ready for the first voters at 7:00 AM, then stay with us again that night since it would be a long one. As luck would have it, both John’s Dad and mine were away on business trips, so it would be just us. John and I looked forward to a long night of video games, oh, and porn, of course, while our Moms would gossip the night away.

After we had everything set up to Mom’s satisfaction, we drove to our house.

“You boys want pizza or Chinese?” Mom asked when we got there. “Whatever you have tonight, you can have the other tomorrow, since it will be a long day.”

“Pizza!,” Meghan, John, and I shouted together, and we all laughed.

We decided to make it a party, so we agreed on a movie to watch and after the pizza arrived we moved into the family room. We had two couches, angled toward each other so everyone could see the TV. Mom and I took one, while John and Meghan took the other. Mom and Meghan had changed into comfortable clothes. Mom had on a green robe over her sleeping clothes, which I knew to be a tee shirt and panties. Meghan had a terry cloth robe, tied with a belt, and I just had to imagine what she had on under it. Since it was my fantasy and she could be wearing whatever I imagined, in my mind she was naked under her robe. That brought an instant erection and I squirmed beside Mom as I surreptitiously tried to adjust it in my shorts.

“What’s the matter with you, Billy?,” Mom said. “Quit wiggling around or you’ll spill your Coke.”

“Yeah, Billy,” John echoed. “Quit wiggling around.” He knew I hated being called Billy, and since he probably had his own hard on, he knew what I was doing. I gave him a sneer, and he laughed. “Prick,” I said, and Mom slapped my leg playfully.

“Now that’s no way kartal escort to talk to your friend, M,” she laughingly scolded, and that caused John and I both to burst into laughter. If only they know what M stood for. John and I looked at each other, and then started laughing again.

Of course, the Moms had selected the movie and it was a kind of romantic movie. It wasn’t bad, though, and we all got into it. Plus, it had some pretty good sex scenes. After one that depicted the two lovers doing 69, there was a heavy silence in the room and we all avoided looking at each other. John broke the ice. “Watching porn with our Mothers, M. That’s always been one of my favorite fantasies.” The whole room roared with laughter. Mom spewed beer out her nose, she was laughing so hard.

“That’s probably as close as you’ll ever get to it, Boys, so enjoy it while you can,” she giggled.

It seemed as if everyone had a release of tension. While we had all been sitting kind of stiffly before, Mom relaxed into me and I saw Meghan do the same with John. We were all sitting kind of close, as couples, so we could share the pizza on the tables in front of us. With the pizza eating done, Mom leaned into my side. I liked it. I could feel her arm on mine, and it was warm through her light gown.

I focused on the movie, hoping for the next sex scene, but secretly I kept glancing over at John. I noticed he had his hand resting on Meghan’s thigh and she had hers on his. It did not look overtly sexual, just a Mother and Son sitting together, but I knew John and I knew his thoughts were anything but innocent. The next time I looked, I could see that Meghan’s robe had fallen open a little and John’s hand was on her naked leg. I gasped.

“You okay, Honey?,” Mom asked.

“Yeah. Coke went down the wrong pipe,” I answered. “Fuck,” I thought. “John has his hand on Meghan’s leg, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him brag all night about it.” Mom glanced over at John and Meghan and saw the same thing I had seen. She leaned into me a bit more, and put her hand on my leg. As cool and smoothly as an eighteen-year-old guy can be, I put my right hand on Mom’s thigh, over her robe. Because her robe was thin, I could feel the heat of her leg. I didn’t know how she’d react — with Mom, you never knew whether you’d get the purring cat or the snarling cat, but I saw her glance again at Meghan and John and then she put her hand on top of mine, squeezing it lightly. “That’s nice,” she said. “I’ve always loved snuggling with you, and we don’t do it anymore.”

That’s all I needed. Her redhead temper had not erupted and I figured I’d take advantage of it. I started lightly rubbing her leg, and she snuggled into me even more. She turned toward me, and instead of her arm against mine, I could feel her breast pushing into my arm. I could feel the hard button of her nipple, and if I had a hard dick before, now it was a diamond cutter. I was getting ready to start moving my hand up her leg when she paused the movie and jumped up.

“I can’t hold this beer any more,” she said. “Meg, you ready for a potty break?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Meg answered. “My teeth are floating.”

They both went running upstairs and John and I just looked at each other, unbelievingly.

“Dude,” John said. “You had your hand on Linda’s leg.”

“You started it,” I whispered. “You were inside her robe.”

“I know,” he whispered back. “She has no idea. She thinks it’s all innocent and it’s all I can do to keep from putting her hand on my dick.” We were still laughing when they came back down.

“What’s so funny with you guys?,” Meg asked.

“We were trying to figure out what that couple was doing when he laid on top of her with his feet up at her head. What were they doing, Mom?” How he did it I don’t know, but John kept a straight face as he said it.

Mom grabbed a pillow and, laughing, threw it at him. “As if you don’t know. You’re not going to get us to explain it to you.”

She sat back down beside me. “So that’s why they call them ‘throw’ pillows,” I said, and we all laughed again. Mom snuggled back into me and I put my arm around her, pulling her close. I whispered to her, “I don’t understand. Can you explain it to me later?”

That got a giggle. “Not a chance, Buster. Figure it out on your own.” She put her hand on my thigh again, and squeezed. Because I was wearing shorts, her hand was on my bare flesh, and it felt so hot it burned. I was really getting into it, with Mom’s hand only inches from my hard dick, when she jumped up again.

“Damn,” I thought to myself. “What did I do?”

But it was nothing I had done. “It’s getting chilly in here,” she said. “You guys want a blanket?”

“Please,” Meghan said, “as long as it’s not a throw blanket.” We all laughed again and I couldn’t help but wish I could be as cool when I was out on a date. Everyone was relaxed and laughing, and that’s the way it should be. If she weren’t my kozyatağı escort Mom, in a similar situation with a date, I’d think I might get some later in the evening.

When she sat back down and spread the blanket over us, Mom’s hand went back to my leg and she again squeezed it. “That better, Bud?”

“Oh, yeah,” I said, and put my arm back around her. We all got back into the movie, but my entire focus was on two things — her hand on my leg, and my hand lightly rubbing her upper arm. Each, inches from Nirvana, and Mom was totally clueless. I spread my fingers out, still rubbing her arm, slowly moving so I could get closer to her breast. She didn’t say anything, so I incrementally and slowly moved closer to the target.

Finally there, I lightly brushed my fingers against the side of her breast, and she took a sudden breath. Turning her head to me, she squeezed my leg and whispered in my ear, “Don’t. If Meg looks over here, she’ll see.”

Now think about that. She didn’t say, “Get your hand off your Mother’s breast before I break it.” She didn’t even say, “It’s wrong to try to touch your Mother’s breast.” Nope. She said, “If Meg looks over here, she’ll see.” So what was she really saying? Was it okay if Meg couldn’t see? I mean, what she said and how she said it spoke volumes. Volumes of possibilities that I had only dreamed.

I took my arm from around her and put my hand on her leg, under the blanket.

“That’s better,” she whispered. “Now watch the movie.”

I did, trying to look as innocent as I could, but my hand resumed its gentle rubbing of her thigh. I was making little circles, and each circle moved a little higher up until I was brushing the inside of her thigh, only inches from her pussy. I glanced over at John and Meghan and, from the angle of his arm, his hand was at least as high as mine and maybe even closer to her pussy than I was to Mom’s.

I was just working up my nerve to make the big move when the movie ended.

“Let’s get to bed, guys,” Mom said. “Tomorrow is going to come early.”

We all got up and cleaned the family room of the last of the pizza party and then went upstairs. Meghan slept in the guest room, and John slept in mine. As soon as we settled into our beds, the whispering began.

“Bill, you dawg. I saw what you were doing.”

“Are you kidding me? I got farther than I ever thought I would, but damn, M. It looked like you had your hand on her pussy. Did you? Tell me you did.”

“I didn’t get to her pussy, but almost there. Think about this. She knew what I was going for. She put her hand on mine to keep me from getting on her pussy, so she knew exactly what I wanted. Don’t you think?”

I thought about what he said. It made perfect sense. On the one hand, what each of us was doing could have been viewed as innocent. A guy sitting with his Mother, with his hand on her leg. Perfectly innocent. But that clearly was not how Mom and Meghan looked at it. Mom knew I was going for her breast, and didn’t want Meghan to see. Meg knew John was going for her pussy, and held his hand to stop it. In each case, they were admitting they knew we wanted to fuck them. I explained my reasoning to John.

“God,” he said. “My mind is blown. Mom knows I want to fuck her.”

I don’t know how much John slept that night, but every time I woke up to jerk off again, I could hear him doing the same thing. We were responsible for getting ourselves up and out the next morning since the Moms had to be at the polling place early, but John and I were both 18 and fairly responsible. We were hardly late for school.

After classes ended, we went to the polling place to check in. We weren’t supposed to be inside, technically, but there was a lull in voting and no one was there. We walked in and Mom, being always the rules enforcer, said, “Guys, we’re glad to see you, but you can’t be in here. But, since you are here, come and give me a quick kiss.” John and I hurried across the room and bent to kiss them. Mom didn’t turn her cheek to me this time, but let me lightly kiss her lips. I sure didn’t complain, but acted like it was normal. As far as I was concerned, it was going to be the new normal.

John gave a whistle. “Look at you girls, all dressed up. Why the dresses today? Can’t count votes in slacks?” Mom was just getting ready to give him an answer when we heard a car door slam outside. Mom stood up to look out the window and exclaimed, “Oh, shit!” It’s the Board of Elections inspector. You aren’t supposed to be in here.”

Meghan jumped up, too, and came around to the front of the table. Lifting the table skirt, she whispered, “Quick, you two. Get under there, and don’t make a sound.” John and I scooted under the table and Meg dropped the curtain. Soon, we saw two feet approach the table.

“Hello, Linda, Meghan. How’s the election going? What’s your total voter count so far?”

Mom told him, and then they started chatting as he brought a chair to the front of the table to sit down. It sure looked like he was going to be there for awhile. The table skirt in front of Mom had slightly come loose from the table, and I could see her chest and the bottom of her chin. I could see her chin trembling, so I knew she was nervous. When it seemed obvious we were going to get away with it, she calmed and I saw her smile.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32