The Chaperone Blues
by Lubrican
Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8
Chapter Two
Claire tensed the muscles in her abdomen and took a breath, preparing
to sit up and stop them. But she froze when her hand got caught in her
pajama bottoms. She was astonished to find that she had continued to
rub her clit as the scene unfolded beside her.
Then she thought about the uproar that would result if she yelled.
Chuck would surely wake up, and then she'd have to explain to him what
was going on. She relaxed and pulled her hand out of her pajamas, her
mind racing. What should she do? Her head turned and she felt light
headed as she saw the lump that was the covers under which her children
were supposed to be sleeping move. It humped up as Bobby obviously
climbed on top of his sister.
Again she took a breath to yell ... scream ... do SOMETHING. But she
couldn't embarrass the children in front of the coach, not to speak of
the embarrassment SHE would feel, too. She realized she was still
holding her breath and let it out in a whoosh.
"What was that?" whispered Lori's voice.
Claire had a flash of inspiration. If she got up and went to the
bathroom, they'd stop. Then she could make noise...toss and turn...like
she was having a hard time getting back to sleep. If she did it long
enough, they'd surely give up this crazy idea.
Lori's voice came again. It was a drawn out "mmmmmm" sound that Claire
recognized as having made herself, on numerous occasions when Denny's
cock had slid into her pussy. Bobby groaned softly too. He had
obviously just pushed his hard adolescent penis into his sister's
pussy. Claire saw the covers move as Bobby thrust hard into Lori.
Claire sat up. She flung the covers off of her legs and swung her feet
toward the children. The covers stopped moving and Claire heard both
her children gasp. Claire stood up and padded around the bed and into
the bathroom. She stood there in the dark for a minute until she
realized they would expect the door to close and the light to go on.
She closed the door. They had stopped. Her plan was working.
Claire almost didn't remember to flush the toilet. She stood in the
bathroom, ears straining to hear anything that might come through the
door. It had been useless, though, and, with a start, she realized she
didn't know how long she'd been in there. She turned off the light and
went blind immediately. Opening the door, Claire put her hands out and
stepped, groping in front of her, into the room. She knew roughly where
the space was between the beds. She had to go around the one she and
Chuck were sharing—he was on the side closest to the
bathroom—and she bent over to feel for the edge of the bed.
Her hands fluttered along the covers and onto Chuck's feet. She jerked
them away instantly, then reestablished contact with the bed and worked
her way around it. Her eyes still hadn't adjusted to the dark, so she
couldn't see the lump that had been her son on top of her daughter.
She didn't hear anything, though.
She slipped back into bed, trying to make enough noise to frighten her
children, but not wake up Chuck.
It almost worked.
As she settled onto her side, so she could see the children when her
night vision returned, Chuck rolled. His arm draped across her body and
his hand fell to the bed beside her left breast. Claire tensed up,
getting ready to rebuff this man's obvious pass at her.
She felt Chuck's hot breath blow against the back of her neck in a long
drawn out sigh. He stopped moving.
Claire realized she was holding her breath again. She let it out slowly
and tuned her body to feel what Chuck's was doing. The only real
contact between them was his arm draped across hers. He was breathing
deeply and slowly. He must have just turned in his sleep.
But now Claire had a problem. If she moved, she'd wake him up for sure.
She was, for all intents and purposes, trapped.
Slowly, her sight returned to her and she looked at the mattress on the
floor. They were still now. Her plan had worked. Strangely comforted by
Chuck's arm draped over her, she drifted into a troubled sleep.
Claire's eyes snapped open perhaps an hour later. There had been a
noise of some sort. Chuck was fully spooning her now, his breath still
slow and soft in her hair. There was a female whimper from the pallet
next to the bed. Claire could see quite well now, from the light coming
in around the drapes that were not completely covering the windows.
The lump in the covers over her children looked much too tall to have
been made by only one body. And it was moving.
They were doing it again!
Claire lay there helplessly as she heard Bobby assure his sister that
their mother was asleep again, and heard the quiet mewling sounds that
communicated that Lori was having a wonderful time.
Then, to her dismay, she heard the little grunting sounds from Bobby's
throat that she somehow knew meant his penis was
spurting…inside Lori...without a condom to contain it or
protect Lori from pregnancy.
Claire didn't know what to do. She was used to making momentous
decisions at work every day, decisions that had the potential for
changing the world. But in this situation she felt helpless. She knew
she should have stopped them. On the other hand it was obvious this
wasn't the first time this had happened. How long had they been doing
this?
She heard Bobby's whispered "Thank you," and Lori's answering "I love
you." It sounded so heartfelt and real, just like she and Denny had
spoken to each other in moments of intimacy.
Claire couldn't believe the warm feeling in her own abdomen. It was
just too strange and bizarre. She felt a tear in her eye break free and
roll down her cheek. She couldn't decide if it was because of what her
children had just done...or because of the sudden loss she felt because
she didn't have that kind of intimacy in her life anymore.
Exhaustion finally claimed its hold on Claire's consciousness and she
fell asleep.
She woke later, having a dream about a man's hand cupping her
breast...a strong man's hand. It felt good. She smiled at her dream and
drifted back to sleep.
Claire woke to see brighter light coming in around the blinds and
drapes that covered the windows of the room. The first thing she
thought of was that Chuck's arm was still over her, pinning her to the
bed. Then she felt his hand—his strong, manly
hand—cupping her left breast. He was still breathing slowly
and deeply, asleep.
She moved and he snorted, his hand closing tighter on her breast. Then,
Claire heard his breathing cease, and there were two tentative little
squeezes, as he realized just where his hand was and what it was
cupping.
The hand darted away from her and he lifted his head.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered.
Claire had just remembered what she had seen and heard the night
before—her children…making love.
"It was an accident," she whispered back. "Don't worry about it."
Chuck rolled away from her and out of the bed. As he headed for the
bathroom Claire looked at him. The front of his shorts was tented
outward. Denny's penis had been like that in the mornings. He had
called it his "morning wood." Quite often, when he came back from the
bathroom on those mornings, it was still hard. He loved to fuck in the
morning.
Claire realized her pussy was wet. Her emotions, which had abated
during sleep, surged again.
It was a rough day for Claire. She dressed in a khaki blouse and skirt
outfit she thought was cute, and she was right. All day men stared at
her, whether they were adults or young men her son's age. The fact that
she now knew her son was sexually active made her look at those young
men in a different light. Each of them, she realized, had the capacity
to climb between her legs and scratch the itch that she had felt all
morning and couldn't seem to suppress. At one point she went to the
girls' bathroom and locked herself in a stall, masturbating frantically
to ease her desire.
But all that did was get her hotter.
She was tense all day. It didn't help that she was around Chuck most of
the day, helping him with the record keeping and running errands for
him. She caught herself looking at his trim, athletic body. It was hard
and she just KNEW he'd be good in bed. She shook her head, trying to
shake those thoughts from her mind. He was her son's coach! And,
despite there only being five years between them, she couldn't help but
look at him as much younger than herself.
"What am I thinking?" she berated herself.
She tried to keep an eye on her children too. Every time she saw them
together—which was more often than she would have thought
before last night—they were smiling, happy children, as
normal looking as all the others around them. They didn't hang on each
other, but they didn't avoid each other either.
They just looked...normal.
By contrast, there were other kids who bickered and fought. In most
cases it seemed like the normal everyday interaction of teenagers who
were in competition with each other. She noticed one boy—a
redhead—and a girl with long blond hair, who were angry with
each other about something and acidic in their statements to one
another. The blond, at one point, was hanging on another boy when a
brown-haired cheerleader girl stalked up and pushed the blond away. The
brunette yelled at the redheaded boy.
"Tell your slut sister to stay away from my boyfriend!"
The redhead waved a hand. "She doesn't listen to me. What do you expect
from a slut anyway?"
"Well THAT brother and sister don't cuddle in bed...that's for sure,"
Claire said to herself. She couldn't help but compare those angry
siblings to her own loving children.
It bothered her.
She wanted her children to love each other...but they loved each other
TOO much.
Didn't they?
And it didn't appear to hamper their performance either. Bobby played
well and helped the team win their first game. Lori was the picture
perfect cheerleader, exhorting the spectators to yell and chant and
celebrate each positive aspect of the game. She was bright and happy
and full of vim and vigor.
Claire realized she was slumping as she watched her daughter. "I might
be full of energy too if I'd gotten my ashes hauled as well as it
looked like YOU did last night," she muttered to the girl who couldn't
possibly hear her.
"Say what?" asked Chuck, turning to her.
"Oh!" she blushed. "Nothing. I was just talking to myself."
"Tell yourself hi for me." He grinned. "And mention to yourself that
you look really nice today."
He looked back at his team as Claire blushed even more. She was horny
the rest of the day.
That night after supper, Bobby and Lori wanted to go socialize with
their friends. Curfew wasn't until nine, so Claire told them to have
fun. When they bounded out of the door she wondered what form that fun
might take.
"You're really good with your kids," said Chuck, looking up from his
playbook. "I mean you've raised great kids."
Pleasure flushed through Claire at the compliment. It was replaced by
fear that Chuck would somehow find out someday the secret she had
discovered the night before.
He closed the book and slid it under the mattress. "We'd better go see
what the kids are doing," he announced.
Claire jerked, thinking of just her kids...and what they might be doing
somewhere. Then she realized he wasn't talking about HER kids.
"Yes," she said.
They went together, moving along the hallways, stopping at the rooms
listed on Chuck's sheet. In all cases where the door was closed, only
boys or girls were behind it. And, in all cases where they found boys
and girls together, the door was open as the rules required.
They found Bobby in one room, playing Texas Hold Em. Lori was in
another room where boys and girls were dancing to loud music.
Claire didn't know whether to be happy or not. She was beginning to
think she had dreamed the whole incident. Her children acted so normal
she couldn't accept that there was something wrong with them.
Claire and Chuck spent an hour chatting with various kids and being
flirted with. Claire noticed that a lot of the girls got all goo
goo-eyed when the coach talked to them, unconsciously thrusting their
breasts out, or playing with their hair, making little grooming
motions. At the same time she felt the eyes of the boys on her. It was
an almost palpable, caressing feeling and it didn't help her horny
state.
By the time they got back to the room Claire felt like she needed to
change her panties.
Chuck went into the bathroom and got his shower first, since there had
been no hot water the night before. He came out in his shorts, his
shirt in his hand. Claire had been lying propped up on the bedspread,
reading a book she'd brought along and she looked up, over her reading
glasses. She felt a flutter in her pussy. He was a hunk. No doubt about
it. His chest was heavy with muscle and her fingers played with the
pages of the book as if they were stroking those muscles.
Chuck had been running his hand through his damp hair and saw her
looking at him. He held the shirt up in front of his naked chest.
"Sorry," he said. "I was thinking about the game." He pulled the shirt
over his head as Claire stared at his flat, muscled abdomen.
Chuck smiled. "I wanted to thank you again for coming along. I really
couldn't do this without you."
What went through Claire's mind was something else he really couldn't
do without her...or at least without a woman. She felt her face get hot.
He didn't notice. "And I wanted to apologize again for what happened
last night. I really don't make a habit of groping strange women in
bed."
Claire remembered the feel of his hand on her breast. It had been a
long, long time since she'd felt that. Her face got hotter. She tried
to dismiss the feeling.
"Forget it. You probably don't make a habit of even SLEEPING with
strange women in your bed." It didn't come out quite like what she'd
thought it would. Her classification of the bed as "his" made her pussy
flutter again.
"Well," he said, reaching under the mattress for the play book, "you're
right about that. I haven't had time to do anything except teach and
coach. I guess I shouldn't be too surprised that when a beautiful woman
shows up next to me in bed that something like that might happen."
His casual mention of her beauty came off unlike a canned pickup line
and Claire's reaction shocked her. She felt warmth in her nipples and
her pussy was suddenly wet.
"Maybe we should assign a couple of the kids to keep an eye on US," she
tried to joke. "There hasn't been a man in MY bed for over ten years."
It had come out as a joke, but it didn't sound like it to Claire's ears.
She blushed furiously. "I'm sorry, Chuck. I shouldn't have said that,"
she stammered.
"No problem," he said simply. "Not that I believe you or anything." He
sat down and opened the book.
Now what had THAT meant? wondered Claire.
The door opened and a cheerful pair of siblings came rushing in,
laughing and talking about their friends. Claire tried to keep reading,
but her eyes strayed to Bobby as Lori dashed into the bathroom,
slamming the door and crowing that she was going to use all the hot
water again.
Bobby pulled off his shirt and Claire was jolted to realize that her
son was in awfully good shape too. He wasn't as heavily muscled as
Chuck, but the muscles were all there, in the same places. Bobby bent
over and dug into his suitcase. Whatever he found was small, because
when his hand came out it didn't appear to be holding anything, even
though it was cupped. Bobby shot a look at his mother, whose eyes
appeared to be on the words in the book. He wandered over to the bed he
shared with his sister and sat down. Claire saw his hand dart under one
of the pillows. When it came out it was obviously empty.
Claire felt her pussy squirt again as she realized what he must have
just hidden.
When Lori came out of the shower she was dressed as she had been the
night before, in only a T shirt and borrowed boxers. She skipped across
the room and dove into bed, getting under the covers. Claire looked up.
"Are you OK, Mom?" asked Lori. "You look kind of tired or something."
"I'm fine," said Claire. She couldn’t help but imagine what
Lori's face looked like as her brother prodded her with his prick. She
shook her head.
"Are you sure? Are you sleeping OK? Did you bring your pills?" Lori's
voice held nothing but care and concern.
"I'm fine, Lori," said Claire somewhat irritably. "I'm sleeping fine,"
she lied. It occurred to Claire that maybe she SHOULD take a sleeping
pill. Then, at least, she wouldn't be awake when her children had sex,
like they obviously planned on doing again tonight. What little SNEAKS
they were! she thought to herself. And Lori's obviously false concern
about her mother sleeping well! Why did her young, beautiful daughter
get to have wild and glorious sex while Claire just had to lie there
horny? It wasn't fair!
Bobby came out of the bathroom. He was dressed exactly like he'd been
dressed the night before. But this time Claire couldn't help but look
at him differently. This time she knew he was...sexually active. Her
little boy was...a man. At least in that sense. She looked at him for
the first time, as a man. His chest was broad, she noticed. How could
she have missed that before? And his arms and legs were muscled.
Suddenly, in her head, she heard again his voice—her little
boy's voice—whispering in the night, "I'm so horny." Her eyes
dropped to the front of his shorts. She jerked her eyes away instantly,
ashamed to be looking at her son's manhood, but that brief glimpse drew
her eyes back again like a magnet, despite her wish not to look.
He must be HUGE! she thought to herself as she stared at the lump under
his skivvies. It almost looked like he was wearing a cup under them,
except for the obvious contour of a thick penis pressed against a pair
of immense balls. When had her son developed THAT kind of equipment?
Again she jerked her eyes away and blushed. How could she stare at her
own son's penis? She looked up to see him smile at her—just a
son smiling at his mother. Why, then, did she feel that emptiness that
she'd felt the night before...that lack of intimacy that she was
suddenly craving?
Claire felt panic welling up in her as she realized her nipples had
spiked. She got up and went to the bathroom. She got in the shower and
turned the water as cold as she could stand it. It didn't help though.
She moaned a soft sound of discontent and, to avoid thinking of her
son's bulge, she intentionally thought of Chuck's hand on her breast,
his own penis shoved gently against her buttocks. She shivered and
turned the water to a warmer setting. Then, with a gasp of surrender,
she shoved three fingers into her pussy as she jerked and rubbed,
trying to have an orgasm. She managed to get a little one, but it
wasn't really satisfying. When she came out of the shower and toweled
off, she realized she hadn't brought anything with her to change into.
She cracked open the door.
"Lori?" she called. "I forgot my pajamas. Would you get them for me,
please?"
Chuck's voice came softly. "They're already under the covers. I'll get
them. Where are they?"
"In my suitcase," she said. As she waited she realized he'd have to
move her scanty feminine panties to get to the pajamas. She leaned her
head against the door and sighed at how that made her feel.
A muscled arm came through the door. Her silk PJ’s were
hanging from the hand at the end of the arm.
"Here you go," came his deep voice.
When she came out of the bathroom Claire knew her nipples were still
spiked. This time it wasn't from the cold. It was because she needed to
be fucked. Admitting that to herself didn't do any good. She wanted to
cover her breasts, but knew that would only make it more obvious. Chuck
was back in his chair again, the book spread open on his lap. He looked
up at her and his eyes devoured her figure in the thin pajamas. She
knew that look and it didn't help her mood. She was used to dismissing
those looks—ignoring them and acting in a cold and
professional manner to deflect them. But she couldn't push the feeling
away this time. At least he didn't say anything.
Claire was glad he hadn't. If he'd said anything even remotely
connected to sex she would have flung off her pajamas and demanded he
take her then and there. And her children would just have to deal with
it! She fell into bed and buried her face in her pillow.
It was going to be a long night.
Oddly, she fell asleep quickly. But she dreamed.
She dreamed of her son, who came to her saying he had a "boo boo." He
pulled aside a loincloth he was wearing and his mammoth erection
strained up. There was a small spot on it where he'd caught the skin in
his zipper.
"It hurts, Mommy," he said. "Kiss it and make it better."
In her dream Claire did a lot more than kiss it and make it better. She
made it go all soft.
She woke with a start. She was lying on her side, facing the children
again. There was movement in the bed across from hers. Movement and
moaning.
"Oooo you got the kind with bumps on it," cooed Lori. "I love that
kind."
Claire looked to see her son's naked back, the covers down to his
waist. Under him was her daughter's naked chest, her breasts white in
the darkness. Bobby leaned down and suckled at one dark tip on top of a
white mound. He rocked gently.
His head raised back up. "Are you sure she took the pill?" he whispered.
"She told me she had them and that she was sleeping fine," came the
answer.
"Good," he whispered. "’Cause I'm about to cum, but I need to
go a little faster."
Lori's hands came under the blanket, where Bobby's ass cheeks were, and
Claire watched as her daughter pulled her son's prick into her.
Bobby groaned softly and froze on top of his sister.
Lori's voice came, louder than it should. "I feel it Bobby...the damn
rubber broke!"
"I'm sorry," he pleaded, still rocking on top of her...still spurting
her full of creamy white sperm. "I had to put it on in the dark."
"We have to stop this," came a hiss from Lori. "You're gonna knock me
up for sure!"
"I said I was sorry," he said softly.
There were small sounds, though, as of little kisses, indicating that
Lori wasn't quite as upset as she sounded.
Claire felt something akin to pain as she realized she was a lonely
woman. Broken rubbers were no concern of hers, because she had no man
at all.
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