This wasn’t Greg’s first ménage a trois – he’d been quite a busy boy since losing his virginity at a fairly indecent age; there were few things he hadn’t tried at least once by now – but it was the first time he’d slept with twins. Ruby and Angie were leggy and small-breasted, which for Greg was a bit of a disappointment, but the twin-premium bonus made up for it. Ideally, his preferences were for much more voluptuous women, but he always knew when to be grateful.
In the early hours of the morning, the girls quietly sloped off. They had sobered up a little by now and looked a little sheepish. It was blindingly obvious from the preceding events that the two of them were sexually involved, but it seems that was a fact they found a little chastening at five in the morning, once all those mimosas had worn off. Maybe they only slept together when they were drunk?
He managed to get a few hours sleep, before he was awoken by someone pounding on his door. It was one of his buddies, waiting breathlessly for a full update on what he’d been up to with the hot twins. After sharing a few of a the gory details, Greg got dressed. They all checked out and headed back to the suburbs. He spent most of the day at his friend’s house, smoking weed and playing computer games.
It was relatively late when he finally returned home. At first, he thought everyone had gone to bed; the house was silent and all the lights were off. But when he reached the kitchen, he found his mother sat at the table, nursing a bottle of wine. He stood there for a moment, just looking at her. Examining her. Studying her. She was wearing a silk robe, that had fallen open at the bottom to reveal her shapely legs. From this vantage point, he could also see a not inconsiderable amount of cleavage.
Is she naked under that robe? He wondered.
Greg was not unaware of his mother’s aesthetic charms. You’d have to be blind not to notice how good looking she was. Not overly tall, but still in fabulous shape. She was all curves, all tits and hips. He remembered how her body fascinated him as a young child; resting his head on the perfect pillows of her chest, drawing patterns in her soft skin as he half-dozed on her lap. His actions were entirely innocent, he’d been a little boy after all, but there was always some intangible power she held over him.
As he grew older, his body maturing and blossoming, he saw his mother with fresh eyes. He was overwhelmed by her sexual charisma. He was bowled over by her luxurious physique. He’d seen her naked plenty of times; both his parents were very open with their bodies, and saw nothing shameful about displays of physical nudity. They weren’t nudists, they didn’t go strolling around in the altogether, but doors were rarely closed when they were getting changed.
He’d masturbated relentlessly as a teenager, and often thought of his mother as he did so. All his friends teased him about her, each one claiming they would nail her if she only gave them the word. He tried to sound offended, but he understood entirely where they were coming from. He’d do the same, he thought, if she only let him. All guys had a close bond with their mother; it just so happened his mother looked like a porn star.
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