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 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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