Matthew Ryder watched in silence as the hands of the clock inched round to eleven, narrowing like the blades on a set of garden shears. Uncomfortable in an unaccustomed charcoal suit and sombre tie, the young man's head was bowed to stare at a pair of black patent leather shoes in which it was almost possible to make out his handsome yet grave features.
At the tender age of seventeen, the loss of a father was a heartbreaking wrench, particularly when he was the only family the inexperienced boy had ever known. Yet that was about to change dramatically with the introduction into his life of the four nubile sisters and mother he'd never had the pleasure of meeting.
Close by, his grandma rustled the curtains nosily, as old folks do, eyes trained on the road outside. Until two days ago, when his whole world imploded, Matthew hadn't even known she and his grandpa were still alive. Clad in black too, the old lady's stout shape and frizzled white hair resembled a pint of Guinness. "The car's here," she announced, then more brusquely to her husband: "Come on Arthur, get your jacket...Are you ready, Matthew dear?"
He nodded silently and stood, smoothing himself down, spiky brown hair ruffled compassionately by his grandfather, also colour co-ordinated in black. It was tough on them too. Losing a son was not quite right in the great scheme of things that dictated parents should not outlive their offspring - even if it was his selfish and pompous father. Fortunately their hurt was dissipated by Matthew's father having voluntarily distanced himself, fleeing to Manila some two decades ago with their grandson in tow, and no word since – until now.
Silence prevailed throughout the journey as the hearse sauntered its way to the greywashed cemetery. The subsequent service went on around Matthew without his really noticing, the words hollow and worthless, his grief unquenchable. Distant relatives, made more distant by his father's stubborn refusal to leave Manila, offered heartfelt condolences prompting Matthew to force a series of smiles. Then finally the coffin was lowered into the ground, taking with it his father's lifeless corpse.
Still in a daze, the young man was led away by his grandparents to be driven somewhere remote and leafy for the wake. Referred to as 'Hannah's house', in his state of mind Matthew didn't realise the significance at first. Head pounding, it was only after a couple of stiff brandies, foisted upon him by some anonymous uncle, that the surroundings began to take shape. Tangible features on those around him slowly formed, as if a thick fog had suddenly evaporated. And there before him stood an attractive blonde older woman. "We didn't get to talk at the cemetery....I'm so sorry, Matthew."
He thanked her politely as he had all the others, not knowing who she was or how she knew his father. "Matthew, I'm Hannah March...I'm, um, I'm your mother."
The young man's eyes bulged like a goldfish's and he broke out in a cold sweat. How on earth did he respond to a woman his father's stubbornness had forbade him from ever having contact with by phone or email, let alone meeting? All he really knew was that she was an evil Jezebel who'd broken his late father's heart.
Standing face to face, she seemed anything but evil and nothing like he'd imagined. Looks-wise she was on a par with Sharon Stone or Kim Basinger in their prime. And oh those delightful heaving breasts... Matthew wasn't sure of the protocol, whether they should hug, kiss, shake hands, or what? Evidently Hannah felt likewise, an embarrassed-looking standoff arising.
Thankfully, the situation was salvaged by the arrival at her side of a petite and pretty young girl roughly the same age as Matthew. With smooth brunette hair, deep hazel eyes and a personable manner, she was as equally breathtaking as his mother. Hannah spoke, addressing her long-lost son. "Matthew, this is Meg...she's, um, she's your sister...your half sister."
Meg smiled demurely.
Matthew knew he had a sister, or several to be exact. Even his secretive father hadn't been able to suppress that information. Yet Matthew had been given an ultimatum: warned to give up hope of ever meeting them. If he did, he could forget about his father forever. "Come on bro," offered Meg with a radiant smile, slotting her fingers warmly into his, "I'll introduce you to the others."
Matthew took a deep breath, looking at his mother for approval. It didn't seem right to leave her so quickly. But she smiled warmly and indicated to go with Meg. There'd be time enough to catch up later, she affirmed: three more days before the flight back to Manila, her parting touch on his shoulder tender and loving.
In the short space of time it took to wander from the lounge to the living room, Matthew had learned that at nineteen Meg was the eldest of his four sistters, or half sisters to be exact. Each with a different father, his mother, it seemed, had indeed been something of a Jezebel in her younger years. His eyes fell upon three looking lovely girls, all self-conscious and seemingly anxious to make the right first impression.
Firstly Meg introduced Jo who, at eighteen was the second eldest. With short spiky boyish hair and no make-up, she was simple yet attractive. In the present company of beauties, however, she did not grab his attention immediately.
"This is Beth," announced Meg, moving along the line.
A dusky skinned girl of mixed race girl and aged sixteen, stepped forward. Beth smiled in greeting, her ancestry attesting to his mother's penchant for black guys that Matthew's bigoted father had taken to the grave. It was the catalyst that forced his father to flee England for the Philippines with Matthew in tow twenty years ago. Yet if his father had seen the fruits of the relationship, surely he'd have proffered a different opinion, for Beth was by far the most stunning of the four, her mocha tinted skin as smooth as rayon.
The last of the quartet was another little beauty with golden hair in ringlets and a pair of piercing ocean-blue eyes behind an oval pair of spectacles. "You must be Amy," pre-empted Matthew, displaying a limited yet serviceable knowledge of American literature.
Amy smiled in greeting.
"Amy's the baby of the family," enlightened Meg.
"Am not," Amy retorted, screwing up her pretty features. "I'm fourteen in two days time," she said proudly.
"You're still the baby of the family," Beth retorted, an impish twinkle in her deep brown eyes as she tried to impress the handsome new family member.
Amy pouted and folded her arms.
Given that none of the girls had known Matthew's father, the grief that was overbearing elsewhere in the house was in short supply here. And that suited Matthew just fine. Having had to endure two days of his grandparents' hurt on top of his own, he craved an escape. The funeral done and dusted and the dead laid to rest, it was time to look forward in a more positive vein.
Matthew would have loved to get to know them better but, at that moment, he was whisked away to the garden by grandpa to be introduced to other distant relatives. He smiled dutifully, soaking up the sympathy like a sponge until finally he was set free. Torn between spending time with his newfound sisters or heading away from the house for some peace and quiet, he elected for solitude.
Standing at the perimeter of the garden, the young adventurer could hear water trickling the other side. Hopping up and over the wall, immediately he began to descend alarmingly down a dusty slope, feet unable to gain a grip and pulling up only at the last moment before his new shoes dipped in the meandering stream.
On the other side of the watery expanse a thicket of trees rustled. The city dweller could barely believe his eyes or his luck. This was tranquil and fresh, in stark comparison to the humdrum and stifling urban existence he'd become acclimatised to in Manila. Only now did it register on Matthew that nearly two decades of his life had been wasted and could never brought back. Despite everything, he couldn't help but feel resentful of his father.
Locating a log that had been laid across the stream as a makeshift bridge, Matthew tiptoed across. Heading towards the wood, twigs beneath his feet made a wondrous sound as they snapped, whilst covert crickets chirped a cacophony. So exhilarating to be away from the claustrophobic and choking funeral party, his only regret was being lumbered with a suit and tie. Loosening at the neck, he worked the tie free and popped open the top button of the shirt. Matthew felt free at last, in so many ways.
He could happily have stripped off completely yet had been raised to be a conservative fellow, unaccustomed to nudity. Mae-Lin, his father's housekeeper, was the first and only woman he'd witnessed naked. That experience merely intensified the longing for a girl his own age to strip naked, to let him touch her firm breasts and do all the things that horny teenaged boys dream of. A sagging middle-aged woman hardly bore comparison.
It was as well he didn't allow the newfound lack of inhibition to run riot, for at that moment a gentle yet urgent whirring sound filled the air. Stepping off the path at the last moment, he felt a whoosh as a muscled and tanned guy, clad in lycra and sporting a baseball hat, flashed by on a mountain bike.
Moments later a second bike passed. This time the rider was female. Struggling to keep up with her male cycle buddy, the girl's cute backside was raised as she stood down hard on the pedals in flip-flops, puffing and panting as the forest floor stifled her progress like it was made of treacle.
Stopping up ahead to wipe a forearm across a moistened brow, she turned briefly to look at Matthew, offering a half-smile through the pain of exhaustion. A pair of breasts that heaved at a cream coloured tank top looked like they craved to be squeezed. Before there was time to return the smile however, she was gone, tight arse bobbling seductively.
The peace restored, Matthew's only companions in the forest during a mile-long stroll were the birds that hid furtively in the trees, the squirrels that slid smoothly through the undergrowth like creepers and the watchful crickets keeping time like a metronome. Reaching a clearing, the youngster contemplated getting back to the house. Yet he was drawn by a sixth sense down an almost hidden path that would take him even farther away from his destination. Glancing down, he noted its dusty surface scored by two thin tyre tracks, filling him with curiosity.
Following the trail for another mile, once more the distant sound of lapping water was audible. It was then that the tyre trail ended, two bikes hastily discarded on their sides a few feet away. His eyebrows elevated at the discovery of a discarded white Adidas trainer, then another a few feet on. Next was a balled-up black sock, then another. Continuing, Matthew encountered a pair of flip-flops, then a lime green lycra top, shorts and a baseball cap. More intriguingly, he discovered a ruffled-up tank top, accompanied by a throbbing feeling between his legs.
The feeling intensified upon spying the Holy Grail: a skimpy bra and thong set in matching lilac. Reaching down, Matthew caught hold of the thong, bringing the crotch to his nose and breathing in deeply. It reeked of intoxicating pussy juice. A more subtle aroma than the stench that seemed to be ingrained in his fingers for days after playing with Mae-Lin, Matthew felt his entire body quake with desire. This was a young female in her sexual prime.
Slowing, he tiptoed towards another clump of trees, through which the stream down below swelled into a wide bowl like a private swimming pool. Able to creep closer, tree by tree, he heard voices, breath held tight. Visible from the waist up, the couple frolicked in the stream. Mesmerised, Matthew couldn't take his eyes off the girl's breasts, big and bouncy with droplets of water clinging to the vast expanse of flesh. A sight to behold – only the second naked woman he'd ever set eyes upon in the flesh – the throbbing in his groin became an unwelcome distraction.
But things would get better, much better. Without warning the boyfriend ducked down, disappearing beneath the black marble surface. The scene before Matthew lapsed into freeze-frame as suddenly the girl squealed, her legs taken from beneath her. Riding momentarily on the guy's strong shoulders, a squeal rang out as she was bucked clear, flashing the briefest snatch of pubic hair before she hit the water. Yet despite its ephemeral nature, the image of that pretty pussy was imprinted on Matthew's brain like a lingering filament.
Surfacing, the girl shot a look that was stern yet playful. The pair grappled, sinking below the surface before emerging in a heated embrace, her legs wrapped around his midriff. Their lips smacked purposefully before tongues made exploratory manoeuvres within. Matthew found himself rooted to the spot, a hand brushing across his crotch, guiltily appraising its semi-hardness. He was sorely tempted to masturbate, such was the arousing effect the couple were having on him.
Just as well he didn't follow the urge, for at that moment Matthew discovered that he and the couple were no longer alone in their reverie. "They sent me to find you," clarified Meg, causing her younger brother's face to turn a spectral white and perspire profusely as his eyes darted from the approaching Meg to the lovers, like a spectator at a tennis match. "Did you, um, want to be alone?"
Moving alongside then pulling up sharply as the scene came into focus, Meg gasped hoarsely then exclaimed: "Matthew!"
"Shush," he said embarrassedly, hands raised.
"Oh my," she whispered as the couple's intimacy increased.
The siblings exchanged furtive glances before Meg moved to the front to gain a more favourable pitch. In doing so, her soft arse brushed the partial erection, thankfully enclosed behind the suit trousers. A lok up and aside as the shaft slotted cosily in the groove, Meg relaxed easily into her long lost brother's big strong chest. Chin on her crown, Matthew towered over the girl, fixing his gaze once more on the playful couple, hands resting idly by his sides.
His heart thumped into Meg's shoulder as the couple up ahead continued petting furiously. Evidently growing tired of the water, the guy lifted the girl into his arms, climbing from the stream, dripping wet. Meg eased back as if scared of discovery, yet Matthew remained rooted, the sudden movement rubbing his foreskin as it fitted ever more snugly into the accommodating groove.
The two lovers moved to within twenty paces, blissfully ignorant of their audience. Unashamedly exposed to the elements, they seemed unfazed by a slight chill in the air, illustrated on the girl's erectile nipples. Matthew could hardly take his eyes off them, except to gaze down longingly at the gorgeous and smoothly shaven pussy. At the same time, Meg's eyes were fixed firmly to a thick cock that swung impressively between the guy's legs.
As Matthew's hands hung idly, Meg moved hers behind to rub his buttocks. Instinctively, Matthew began to move his groin in time, forgetting that this was his sister. Both could be forgiven, however, for there'd barely been time for things to sink in, let alone make sense. Seemingly as horny as he, Meg purred as she wiggled her cute arse all over his rapidly stiffening cock.
Up ahead in the clearing the guy had succeeded in working his cock up into a savage looking beast, sprouting proud in all its circumcised glory. The girl moved in stealthily on all fours like a prowling tigress, tongue running seductively around the inner circumference of her lips. Leaning back upon his elbows, chest inflated, he reached out for her hair, ensnaring a set of fingers in the brunette tangles and wrestling her face close to the outstanding appendage. Dipping, the girl smiled as her tongue tip touched his balls lightly before licking all the way up the rampant shaft. At the crest she togued the eye lovingly before enveloping the engorged head with a succulent mouth.
Matthew shuddered as he felt Meg's body tense against his and heard her breath begin to quicken, a guilt-ridden glance his way before settling back down on his cock and rolling it between her arse cheeks like a hotdog in a bun. Thighs clamped tightly together to rub her aroused cunt lips, she whimpered gently. Hands still idly by his sides, Matthew experienced the overwhelming urge to reach around and feel her tits. Yet he hesitated, wracked by doubt and inexperience.
As if to prompt some action, Meg arched her back. pushing out a delightfully pert chest like a rooster. A pair of thick nipples strained at the front of the lightweight blouse, threatening to pop the buttons. The outline of a lacy half cup bra beneath sent Matthew crazy with desire. Shaking like an arthritic, his hands elevated. As Meg held her breath in heightened anticipation, still he was unable to touch them.
Her wantonness reaching mammoth proportions, Meg removed her hands from his bumcheeks and over his hands, guiding them close. Each erect nipple quivered as contact was made. His palms covered the firm orbs, appraising. Fingers reflexing instinctively he cupped lovingly.
The effect on Meg was startling, eliciting an audible breathy squeal that very nearly gave them away. Thankfully the other couple were so engrossed in their own lustful games that it went unchecked. Adjusting, Matthew ran his thumbs around each teat, tracing small circles. Scared of what she might unleash, Meg's front teeth became embedded firmly in her bottom lip, eyes screwed tight as the feeling between her thighs liquefied.
Up ahead, the guy had arrived at the throes of ecstasy, the girl seemingly anxious to join him. Running a hand down her spine and backside, she plunged two fingers deep into a gaping cunt as she continued to deepthroat with vigour. Sucking and licking, she frigged her pussy wildly, inducing an intense orgasm and a light spray from her cunt that hung momentarily in the air like a sprinkle of perfume. Simultaneously the guy began to exhale, his face contorting like he'd stood on a wasp.
The girl felt the first telltale jerk, tossing back her head and finishing him off with a blurring fist. Cum ejected like foam from a fire hose, looping in the air and peppering the girl's face and tits. She kept labouring away until every last drop had been drained and the once impressive cock melted in her grip.
Suddenly Matthew felt Meg's body in front spasm and go limp, a little gasp escaping her lips as the orgasm from the dry fuck took hold. No time to dwell, suddenly a hue black cloud passed overhead to darken the scene. It was the cue for the pair of sibling voyeurs to hotfoot it away before risking an embarrassing discovery. "Um, sorry..." Matthew began as they traipsed off down the path. "That was wrong...very wrong...we, um, shouldn't..."
Meg pushed up on tiptoes to give her younger brother a peck on the cheek before running off ahead with an impish giggle. Lapsing into a childhood his overbearing father had denied, Matthew tore off in pursuit. Gathering up her shoes in hand and lifting the skirt above the thigh, Meg sprinted off, utilising her knowledge of the forest to thwart the handsome pursuer.
However, his superior speed and stamina ensured that Matthew caught her just before the log. A symbolic crossing, it was the bridge that would take them out of the fantasy world of the forest and back to the mundane reality. They play-wrestled, laughing till their chests ached. Taking Meg in his strong arms and swinging her around, Matthew felt alive and invigorated. Though he craved to prolong the moment just a little longer, the prospect of returning to his grandparents' tdrab errace in the suburbs and eventually to city life in Manila heart-wrenching.
As he play-fought with Meg, their limbs tangled and they tumbled to the floor whooping joyously. Little thought for the neat and respectable clothes they wore, grass stains and mud scrapes were unavoidable. Going in for the kill, Matthew straddled his sister and tickled mercilessly at her belly, inducing an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Fortunately – or unfortunately – any further high jinks was curtailed by the arrival of blonde cutie Amy,, shooting a curious glance across the stream. "You found him then?"
"Yeah I found him," replied Meg, easing Matthew aside and rising to her feet with a smile.
Putting on her shoes once more and taking to the log with arms outstretched in a cruciate pose, Meg hurried to join her sister on the other side. Heel catching a knarl, a squeal rang out as the eldest sister tottered one way then the other, hands groping thin air before falling sideways and plunging in the waist high water with an undignified splash.
At the water's edge, Amy was in stitches, doubled up with pained howls of laughter. Matthew too found it physically impossible to suppress a laugh. From the stream, Meg issued a look that was half pure evil and half bemusement. Hands on hips she pouted and appealed to her brother: "Help me out."
Dutifully Matthew moved to the stream's edge, stretching to hold out a helpful hand. Yank! The next minute his body was moving forward of its own accord, feet unable to grip on the bank and plunging in cold water. Surfacing he blew a fountain of water from his lips. In retaliation for her wickedness, Matthew slashed the surface with an arced arm, sending a sheet of water cascading over his wicked older sister. As she squealed, his eyes were drawn to a pair of hard nipples that had sprouted and pressed against the wet blouse. Meg grinned before launching a tidal wave of her own, things quickly becoming messy. Up above them, Amy jumped up and down in sheer glee, her blonde ringlets animated.
So as not to be left out, the youngest sister bolted down the bank and launched herself into their midst, shrieking delightfully as she bombed the surface. The trio made sure to duck and splash each other thoroughly until every stitch of clothing was soaked through and they were breathless. Hauling himself out, Matthew helped lift his sisters to the bank in a gentlemanly manner before they walked back bedraggled to the house. "Matthew is so much fun," observed Amy innocently, pressing to his side for warmth.
"Mmm yes he is," responded Meg, her idea of fun somewhat less innocent.
Their mother was waiting for the errant trio. "What on earth...?"
"We had a little accident," offered Meg, eyelashes fluttering innocently.
"We fell in the stream," added Amy.
"Hmm, I can see that...all three of you...?"
Matthew caught sight of gran and grandpa in the background, his heart plunging. Looking ready to depart, he was anything but. "You can't get in the car wet like that, Matthew," the old man scolded.
He offered apologies as the girls confronted their mother. "Maybe Matthew can stay with us tonight?" suggested Amy hopefully, adopting a doe-eyed demeanour.
Matthew's ears pricked up.
"Hmm, I'm not sure about that," mused Hannah. "The first time we meet him and he brings you two back like that."
"It was an accident," Meg appealed. "And it wasn't Matthew's fault."
"Oh go on mummy, say Matthew can stay," pleaded Amy. "Please mummy...for my birthday."
Hannah contemplated, giving her long lost son the once over and allowing a smile to restore her pretty features. "Okay, Matthew would you like to stay with us for a short while?" she enquired. "It'll mean two of you girls having to share a room though."
"That's okay," chipped in Jo, the tomboy, who'd tagged onto the conversation, the lovely little dark-skinned Beth close at her shoulder.
The other sisters looked at Jo in surprise as if her words were totally out-of-character. Evidently Matthew's charm had melted a stubborn heart. All eyes looked his way, "Say you'll stay, Matthew," entreated Amy.
He smiled, the decision simple. "I'd be honoured to."
Amy clapped her hands together like a seal, which was appropriate given her dripping state.
"Right you three, bathroom," commanded Hannah, playing the matriarch.
Matthew felt his cheeks flush.
"It's okay," said Amy with an aside. "We have three bathrooms. I'm sure Meg will show you."
As a delighted Amy skipped to the downstairs bathroom, the older girl guided Matthew upstairs to his. His eyes lingered on a backside he could very easily reach out and grope. Meg hesitated teasingly at the bathroom door before pirouetting and heading off down the landing, leaving him alone.
Overjoyed to be rid of the clinging heavy clothes, Matthew stripped and hung them to dry on the hot rail. The steaming bath filled to a third of its capacity and topped with fluffy bubbles, he climbed in gratefully among the welcoming suds. Oh that felt so good. It hadn't been the easiest of days, salvaged only by meeting the girls and discovering the joys of the forest. He wanted to stay forever.
After a ten-minute soak, a knock at the door caused the self-conscious teenager to look up in alarm. "Fresh towels," clarified his mother from outside. "It's okay, I won't peek."
She wandered in, keeping her promise, eyes elsewhere. Just as well, for the lather had receded to a light fringe, exposing Matthew's nicely honed body completely. Hannah hung the towels on the hot rail then turned unexpectedly to face her son. Despite the promise of earlier, she did look, eyes lingering longer than was befitting of a young man's mother.
Matthew gulped as she smiled warmly and came to sit on the edge of the bath, overshadowing her long lost son. "You know Matthew, you're the age I first met your father," she mused as her son shuffled uncomfortably in the water. "He was a handsome devil back then. You remind me of him a lot."
The mention of his father triggered the emotion to rise once more in the bereaved youngster and he found himself suddenly and unexpectedly weeping. "It's okay honey, really it is," she comforted, leaning in to take him into her arms in a display of maternal instinct.
Locked together, her soft hands stroked his back up and down as their cheeks touched. Given the proximity of the pair, a layer of bathwater unavoidably coated the front of Hannah's diaphanous blouse, turning it virtually transparent. Without a bra, a pair of fulsome breasts stuck wetly to the front. As Matthew eased from her grip he couldn't help but stare, bringing a flush to both their faces. Reaching out, she ruffled his damp hair, lips pursed. Eyes on his submerged penis, she whispered: "I think we're all going to enjoy having you here, Matthew."
And I think I'm going to enjoy it here too, he thought, a surprise rush of blood to the cock causing it to jerk and elevate, the head erupting through the water's surface. Quick to hide his embarrassment, Matthew flipped over onto his front. "Mmm, you're just like Jo," Hannah observed. "She likes having her back scrubbed by her mummy too."
Desperate to hide his erection, Matthew was in no position to argue.
Taking hold of the bar of soap, Hannah dipped her hands in the bath and worked up a thick ball of lather. Leaning over, she perched on the edge of the bath, massaging the soap into Matthew's strong shoulders. Her touch exquisite, Matthew's eyelids drooped contentedly. He was unable to relax completely, however, on account of the throbbing hard cock beneath him. "Look how wet you've made me..." Hannah observed, unbuttoning the blouse and shaking it clear to unveil a pair of gorgeous orbs Matthew could just see out of the corner of his eye.
Despite being the unfavourable side of forty, the sag in them was minimal. And they were natural too, illustrated in the delightful heave and plunge as she jinked. The aureolae were big and puffy, housing two enormous and highly sensitive nipples. Hannah placed a hand beneath each, appraising each asset, before lifting the right one to her lips and sucking the swollen nipple long and hard. Matthew could barely believe what he was witnessing. Lowering her skirt and stepping out of the panties, she cocked a leg up and stepped in to the bath, resting over the backs of Matthew's legs, knees supporting her weight in a masseur-type pose.
Matthew rested chin on hands against the back-bath, cock stil uncomfortable beneath him as his mother's flesh touched his. Soaping up once more, Hannah spread the lather thickly over her expansive tits. Tilting forward she began to rub her son's back seductively with the delicious orbs. When Matthew realised what was happening he very nearly came in the bath, his cock stiffening yet further until it was painful. Hannah kept at it for what seemed an eternity, moaning as her sensitive nipples made tracks up and down her son's strong back.
Hands finding his hips, Hannah lifted till his torso was upright. Her tits that were pressed into his back felt like soft warm pillows. Breath racing, her lips traced a line from earlobe to shoulder blade, kissing every part of the manly neck in between. Adjusting his strong buttocks, Matthew felt the taut flesh rub the damp scrub of his mother's pussy.
Supporting him with one hand, the other caressed Matthew's wide manly chest, covered in damp matted hair. Hannah combed her fingers through the forest whilst nuzzling his neck. Lovingly she teased Matthew's nipples with the ball of her thumb, bringing a shudder of pleasure in the inexperienced young man.
Yet it was about to get a whole lot better as, without warning, the hand that had been by his waist moved stealthily across and inside his leg, grazing the cock and weighing the balls in her palm. Matthew groaned as she shifted to take hold of his cock, cradling it like a mother and baby. "Mmm, my darling boy," she enthused, moving the foreskin tenderly up and down to unveil the purple mushroom head beneath.
Matthew glanced down momentarily to see his mother's fist wrapped tightly around his cock and stroking back and forth in a gentle rhythm. Tossing his head back, he let out an impassioned sigh. At the same time Hannah rubbed her pussy into his arse. "Oh baby boy," she whimpered, upping the speed of her ministrations to the bloated member.
Matthew's cock jerked in her fist, blurring as she readily attained optimum speed. This carried on for what seemed like an eternity, Matthew's head swimming. When she did have to let go through wrist numbness, the lovely cock sprang back to thump his belly hard, such was its rigidity. Swapping hands, Hannah wrapped her fingers firmly around the beautifully proportioned appendage, jerking purposefully. "Cum for me, baby boy," she pleaded, their lips brushing as Matthew tilted his head to the side.
They kissed long and deep, lost in one another as Hannah's hand slipped and slid. "cum for me," she reiterated, both rewarded with an orgasm that smashed through Matthew's like a train wreck, a porcine squeal escaping her son's pursed lips.
Matthew fired at the sloped surface of the back-bath, depositing a healthy glob. Her strokes unerring, Hannah induced a second spurt that measured up to any of the previous men in her life's initial efforts. She glowed with the pride of a mother and a lover. Ensuring to drain every last drop of seed, she dunked his numb cock in the soothing water. Pushing up onto the soles of her feet, she kissed the damp crown and slipped out of the bath. "Now if you're a good boy, mummy will come to tuck you in at bedtime," she promised before departing.
She kept her promise too, leaning over her son in the semi-darkness of Jo's room, her heaving breasts almost spilling out of the silken nightgown. Reaching up with a smile, Matthew gave them a good hard squeeze. They compressed like sponge balls, the nipples bloating to his touch. "Oh baby," Hannah breathed as her tits were pawed, squeezed and fondled, lowering further to deliver a goodnight kiss.
Matthew parted his lips, allowing his mother's velveteen tongue to slip inside. They kissed with a passion that stole their breaths. Drawing back for air, Hannah smiled. "Welcome to the family, Matthew."
The tent halfway down the bed did not go unnoticed, eliciting a little grin from the wanton woman. But, as much as he tried to force them open, Matthew's eyelids were wavering and Hannah too knew that her energy was ebbing. It had been a draining day and for now fatigue had drawn a veil over it. But they realised a new one was just an energy boosting night's sleep away.
As she headed back to her bedroom, through the briefly opened door, Matthew heard excited chattering from the girls' bedrooms. His arrival had transformed not only his mother, but all four of her nubile daughters, each in various flushes of womanhood. Matthew sighed contentedly as sleep enveloped his body. Morning couldn't come quick enough.