Mother, Daughter, Neighbor

Mother, Daughter, Neighbor

Kathryn M. Burke

Jenna Wright really didn't like living with her mother—but what was the option?

Eighteen years old, she'd graduated from high school, but her mom, Doris, couldn't afford to send her to college. Her grades weren't good enough for her to get a scholarship, and she wasn't keen on racking up huge debts from college loans that she'd probably never be able to pay off.

Of course, if Mom and Dad had stayed together, that might have made a difference. But Jenna's dad (whoever he was) had bolted from the scene the moment he discovered that the nineteen-year-old Doris had gotten pregnant. Doris had poked along from one dead-end job to another ever since, and was currently struggling to make do on a waitress's salary. Luckily, the restaurant she was working at was a fairly swank one in Pasadena, and the customers tipped heavily—not least because Doris, at thirty-seven, managed to look quite a bit younger than her age and made a point of flirting with the male guests, even when they were accompanied by wives or girlfriends who invariably glared at her in hostility and envy.

The funny thing, as Jenna knew all too well, was that Doris had developed a burning hatred for the race of males.

Over the years she'd tried to hook up with a seemingly endless succession of men—but not many of them were eager to link their fates to a woman with few job prospects and a young daughter in tow. That kind of package deal didn't appeal to a lot of the twenty- or thirty-year-old single men whom Doris dated. After years and years of banging her head on the wall hoping some generous guy would take both her and her child under his wing, she'd pretty much given up. If men couldn't see what a tempting female she was, then they could all go to hell!

Jenna had of course not reached this level of cynicism regarding love and romance. She was still wide-eyed and innocent, hoping some Prince Charming would come along and sweep her off her feet. If that blessed event happened, Mom could shift for herself!

To give her credit, Doris tried to make sure that her daughter didn't end up where she had. Not only did she sternly urge Jenna not to get involved with men of any sort, but she went to the expense of enrolling her in a year-long course to train as a dental hygienist. Jenna didn't like the prospect of poking her fingers in people's mouths all day long, but she knew there was good money to be made at such an occupation, so she was sticking to it.

As for men—well, she wasn't planning on keeping herself wrapped up in a cocoon forever. Looking at herself in the mirror, she saw a girl—sorry, young woman—with a slender but curvy figure and a face that was clean and honest with straight blond hair framing it. What more could a guy want? She had to admit her mother was quite a looker too: a little taller than herself (five foot six as compared to five foot four), with an hourglass figure and an appealing face—as long as she didn't frown or scowl too much! (That's a real turn-off to men, isn't it?)

Jenna wouldn't say she was anything like a coquette; in fact, she thought a lot of men liked the shy, naïve type. And she had her eye on a guy right in their apartment complex.

He was named Harry (last name unknown), and he seemed to work irregular hours. Jenna had first run into him in the huge laundry room of the apartment complex they lived in: since her mom worked long hours, Jenna was tasked with a lot of the cooking and cleaning, and she'd encountered Harry one weekday afternoon when the room was practically empty. So what else could she do but introduce herself and get acquainted?

He looked to be about twenty-eight years old—and Jenna was tickled at the thought that he was almost exactly between herself and her mom in age. He was really good-looking: not all that tall (maybe five foot eight), but with broad shoulders, a strong chest, and firm thighs and calves. And, of course, a good butt! Very important for a man to have a good butt, if he's going to make an impression on a female!

But Jenna was terrified at the prospect of her mom finding out about this "older man" making eyes at her, even though they'd not done much except exchange pleasantries now and then. When Harry asked her out one time, she had to explain that "Mom wouldn't approve," and he took that rebuff with proper understanding.

But as time went on, Jenna knew that this guy might be—well, he might be the one!

So one day, she invited him to come over on a Saturday afternoon when she knew her mother would be out. Doris was always keen on keeping her two-bedroom apartment spruce and attractive (even though hardly anyone visited it); and that afternoon she had decided to go to a nursery in far-away Orange County to pick up some particularly choice potted plant for the living room. Jenna figured that would give her several hours of "alone time" with Harry, and so she'd asked him to come over then.

Unfortunately, things didn't go according to plan.

Doris was getting by on a Volkswagen Rabbit that was well over a decade old—and as she set out for the nursery, she got a reading from the dashboard computer saying (or demanding), "Service Now!" Now you have to understand that one of Doris's phobias was getting stranded in some remote location, where anyone under the sun might stop by and do horrible things to her while she was stuck in a broken-down vehicle. She knew the whole idea was ridiculous, but she just couldn't stop thinking of the exquisite tortures that some unscrupulous male might inflict upon her in that vulnerable position.

So Doris immediately turned right around and headed for home, vowing to take her car to her dealer at the first opportunity.

When she let herself into her apartment, she heard strange sounds issuing from her daughter's bedroom. For a two-bedroom apartment, it was pretty small, and it didn't take more than a few vigorous strides for Doris to make her way to the open door of Jenna's room. What she saw there made her gasp with astonishment and horror.

She actually couldn't see Jenna right away—and that's because the first thing she saw was the long, muscular backside of a naked man reclining on his side on Jenna's bed. Amidst her outrage she had to admire the firm, trim outlines she was seeing—not to mention one of the finest posteriors she had ever seen on a man (not that she'd seen any lately). Only after some moments did she figure out that the man's shape was all but concealing her petite daughter, who was reclining on the other side of him—and a sharper glance showed that she'd stripped down to her bra and panties and was enjoying the kissing and stroking the man was giving her. Her only consolaton was that he actually hadn't invaded Jenna's body—yet.

"Who the hell are you!" Doris cried in fury. "What are you doing here? Get the fuck out of my apartment!"

It was only when those words were spoken that both occupants of the bed became aware of Doris's existence. She heard a sharp, high-pitched yelp from her daughter, who was now looking up at her in utter mortification. The man seemed startled too, but more in control of himself. With incredible audacity, he casually turned around, exposing his naked front to Doris.

And Doris gasped again.

To say he was well-endowed would be an understatement: from her wide (but not recent) experience, she estimated that his organ—fully engorged—measured about nine inches. Doris was so fixated on that member that she had trouble remembering to be angry. Instead, she just stood there stunned, her mouth hanging open.

But her daughter wasn't so silent.

"Jesus, Mom," Jenna cried, "what are you doing back home?"

When Doris didn't respond, Jenna blunderingly tried to explain.

"Um, this is Harry. He lives down the hall from us. He's a real nice guy—really he is, Mom!"

Doris was struggling to gain control of the situation—although that thick, stiff cock, now actually quivering with excitement, made it difficult to do.

"You!" she bellowed, pointing accusingly at Harry. "I don't care who you are! You need to get out of here—with or without your clothes! And don't you dare come here and molest my daughter again!"

What Harry did was pretty remarkable.

He nonchalantly got up from the bed. Doris could see that his clothes were scattered haphazardly on the floor, but he made no effort to put them on. Instead, he began walking directly in Doris's direction.

She backed away, her arms extended. "You stay away from me, you scumbag!"

But Harry didn't stop. When Doris, in backing up, ran into a wall in the narrow corridor they were in, Harry—with a broad and benevolent smile on his face—took Doris in his arms and held her close.

Doris struggled at first, but she was no match for Harry's strength. Anyway, the sensation of being hugged by a naked man while she herself was fully clothed was so unusual that she became stupefied. She found her arms encircling Harry's neck, the way women do when they are hugged; and she couldn't help feeling that erect organ pressing up against her abdomen, as if anticipating—

Harry lifted Doris's face up to his own and planted a long, deep, tender kiss on her mouth.

Omigod! That really did feel nice—no doubt about it. She forgot to be enraged and kissed back.

But when Harry, pulling her a little bit away from the wall, slid a hand down to her bottom (covered as it was by her underwear and a thin print dress), Doris came to life.

Tearing her mouth away from his, she cried, "No, you don't, buster!"

But Harry paid little attention. Instead, he swooped Doris up effortlessly in his arms and carried her to her own bedroom, which had a spacious queen-size bed on it. (Jenna had a pathetic little twin bed, not really big enough for two.)

As he dumped her onto the bed, Doris landed awkwardly on her butt, her legs splayed and her arms propping up her torso. With supernatural calmness, Harry fell to his knees, slid his hands up her skirt, and pulled her panties down and off of her.

Doris was so astonished by his actions that she just stared and gaped at him. Her brain seemed to freeze as she simply watched him do what he wanted with her.

And what he did was to push up her skirt so that her bare legs and delta were exposed. He smiled in approval as he saw her thick dark bush, and his smile broadened when he saw the petals of her labia part of their own accord and reveal a growing moisture in the area.

Meanwhile, Jenna, still only in her bra and panties, crept behind Harry to watch what he would do next.

With a kindly gaze in Doris's direction, he took hold of her thighs and buried his face in her sex.

Doris let out a heavy groan. It had been a full two years since a man had come anywhere close to that part of her anatomy—and in her heart of hearts she knew that she was getting increasingly bitter and crabby from lack of regular sex. Still, she didn't expect her drought to end in this bizarre and spectacular manner; all she could do was stare wide-eyed and open-mouthed at this total stranger who was now eating her out as if it was going out of style.

He was good—she had to admit that. Where he'd learned his technique was anyone's guess, but he knew exactly what he was doing. He began slowly, licking the insides of her labia and even sticking a tongue into her vagina; only after her wetness began pouring out of her did he address that exquisite and swelling nub that was the focus of every woman's being. He licked and sucked and nibbled that clitoris in a way that drove Doris wild, and she began tossing her head back and forth and clutching the sheets with spasmodic hands while occasionally continuing to gaze down at this incredible man bringing her to the threshold of ultimate pleasure.

And then the explosion came. She gaped in amazement as the waves of her orgasm radiated out from her sex to all parts of her body and mind. She shrieked like a banshee as Harry continued to lick and stroke her; then, strange little choking sounds came from her throat as her tongue lolled out of her mouth. Finally, her cries turned to curious little high-pitched mews as her climax kept on coursing through her.

All the while, Jenna, still in her bra and panties, was staring open-mouthed at her mother. There were times when, late at night, she thought Doris was pleasuring herself, trying to do so quietly so as not to rouse her daughter. But now, even though she saw Jenna standing right next to the bed, she showed no signs of inhibiting her transcendent ecstasy at one of the most powerful orgasms of her whole life.

Doris sank back onto the bed, utterly spent and weak as a kitten. This allowed Harry to systematically undress her—always calmly and without haste. Blouse, skirt, and bra were all peeled off gently but relentlessly, and both he and Jenna saw the older woman naked for the first time in their lives.

The figure revealed was succulent beyond measure. Ripe, full breasts, flat stomach, a thick tuft of black hair at her delta, tapered thighs and calves, and (when Harry rolled her over to get a look at her backside) a lusciously curvy bottom—all in all, the very picture of mature womanhood in the prime of life, now glowing a bright pink from the paroxysm of her climax.

Harry, casting an apologetic glance toward Jenna (Sorry, babe, but I need to do this first), climbed onto the bed, placed himself between Doris's legs, and plunged into her.

She gasped at the unusual sensation—two full years without a man in her! Absurdly, she felt almost like a virgin as she struggled to accommodate this stranger's substantial length in her. Even though Jenna had emerged from that cavity almost two decades ago, Doris felt like an inexperienced coed as she wrapped her legs around Harry's hips and urged him to enter her ever more deeply.

But Jenna wasn't idle. As she took in the incredible sight of her mother being gored by the man she thought might be her new boyfriend, she quietly removed her bra and panties and lay down next to Doris on the bed, flat on her back. She raised her legs and bent her knees in the classic female pose for the missionary position, casting meaningful glances at Harry as he continued to pound Doris.

Her actions didn't go unnoticed. Lovely as Doris was, Jenna was beautiful in a very different way. Her small but shapely breasts, slender physique, and thin patch of fur over her mons suggested delicate, childlike innocence, and the yearning glances she was giving Harry made no secret of the fact that she sought to receive some of the passion he was doling out to her mother.

Harry now gave Doris an apologetic look (Sorry, ma'am, but your daughter is too tempting to resist), pulled out of her, and slid over to take up the same position with Jenna. He made sure she was wet—as of course she was, after all she had seen and experienced in the past half-hour—and then guided his cock into her pussy.

But it got stuck after only a few inches.

His eyes bulged as he peered down at the young woman under him.

"You—you're a virgin?" he whispered.

"Well, of course I am!" Jenna replied. Her glance said it all: It's all Mom's doing. She's kept me wrapped up like a forgotten Christmas ornament.

Doris, startled at the sudden sense of vacancy she was feeling after Harry had pulled out of her, was pretty quick on the uptake.

"Don't you hurt her, you brute!" she cried savagely.

"Can't be helped, ma'am," Harry said like a weary philosopher—and battered down Jenna's poor little hymen. It never had a chance.

She gave out a sharp cry, and tears sprang from her eyes. As Harry lowered himself onto her and tunneled farther and farther into her, her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. With a huge intake of breath, she clung ferociously to Harry, even as his ever-deeper thrusts seemed to create the impression that his entire body was entering her.

Meanwhile, Doris was watching Jenna's loss of virginity with a mixture of fascination and horror. Had any mother since the dawn of time ever witnessed the deflowering of her own daughter by the same man who had penetrated her only a few moments before? There was something definitely not right with this picture!

But Harry, finding the tightness of Jenna's vagina deliciously different from Doris's sopping wet but looser orifice, couldn't hold out much longer. The whole series of events that had just happened—his disrobing in front of Jenna, his snuggling with her, Doris's sudden interruption of their canoodling, his bold stripping of the older woman, and his successive penetration of mother and daughter—was more than he could take in, and with a huge bellow from deep in his throat he poured out his seed into Jenna's virginal orifice, even as she squealed from a sudden orgasm that unexpectedly overwhelmed her at the sensation of the thick, viscous substance flooding her vagina.

For a time Harry lay like a dead weight on Jenna, but at her urging he rolled off and landed on his back between the two women.

Doris was glaring venomously at both of them. She didn't seem to know which one to chastise first.

"I hope you two are satisfied!" she exclaimed. "You better clean yourselves up pronto!" As both Jenna and Harry looked down at themselves—Jenna at the trickle of mingled blood and come leaking out of her pussy, Harry at the streaks of red slathered over his member—they heaved themselves up from the bed and headed to the bathroom.

They came back a minute or two later, sheepish and mortified. But that didn't prevent them from lying down on the bed in pretty much the same position they had just occupied.

Doris rolled her eyes in disgust, but then gave up the fight. She nestled against Harry's left side just as Jenna positioned herself on his right side. His arms extended down the backs of the two lovely creatures, reaching their bottoms, which he stroked and squeezed vigorously.

Then, as both women saw with amazement that his cock was slowly engorging again, he did something neither of them expected.

Harry had caught sight of a little tube of moisturizer on the nightstand on Doris's side of the bed. Reaching over her recumbent form, he squeezed some of it onto his fingers. Then he resumed his attentions to Doris's bottom—except that he applied the cold, wet stuff to a certain part of her anatomy.

It took Doris a few moments to figure out what Harry had in mind—and she was appalled.

"Oh, no, you don't, buster!" she cried, trying unsuccessfully to wriggle out of his grasp. "You're not going in back there—not on your life!"

But Harry, in his tranquil way, was brooking no resistance. Letting go of Jenna, he compelled Doris to lie on her stomach as he climbed on top of her. She was now totally immobilized by his large frame, even though she was crying "God damn you, don't go in there!" at the top of her lungs. But he forged ahead into her anus in spite of her objections.

She let out a squawk like a chicken being strangled, but otherwise took the probing of her bottom well enough. She'd never done this before, but in fact she'd always had a secret desire to undergo this exquisite form of female punishment. Her eyes widened as Harry proceeded inch by inch into her posterior, until he couldn't go any farther.

Jenna, in her naïveté, hadn't a clue what was happening. She actually got up from the bed and trotted to the other side to get a better view. As Harry began thrusting into Doris, she placed a hand casually on his bottom and peered down between his legs to where his cock intersected with her mother's body. She let out a gasp (I didn't know a man could go into that tight spot!), unable to tear her eyes away from the spectacle of Doris enduring rear entry.

Harry liked the feel of Jenna's warm hand on his derrière as he pummeled Doris's anus. He looked up and gave Jenna a crooked smile, but devoted most of his attention to Doris. He wanted to make sure to give her some compensating pleasure for the pain she was obviously suffering. For at time he reached around her and grabbed her breasts with both hands—which made Doris feel completely helpless, somewhat like a butterfly pinned to a piece of cork. But gradually Harry lowered one hand and slid it over her sex. As his own pumping became more forceful and was clearly reaching a culmination, he began stroking her sex with both delicacy and vigor, and Doris responded with those little mews she had given out before when he'd coaxed a thunderous climax out of her.