Hunter’s sexy snippets

Ariadne never really understood what happened to her that night, but the change was sudden and significant. For ten years, she had buried something powerful and carnal . . . something that had only mutated and grown with passing neglect. . . something she had once ignored to pour everything of herself into raising her son—the last living link to her husband. It had existed there all along, just waiting for the door to open just a peek and help it manifest in full force.

Oh, she had certainly masturbated before, most often in her teen years before she met Stewart, but she was still a young girl that knew nothing about sex or the secrets of her own body. Then once Stewart had come along, she never had any need of it. She saved her body and its pleasures for him and him alone; a habit that, in retrospect, must have become commonplace by the time he passed. In the ten years following his death, Ariadne had never really thought of sex all that much, it was like after the tragedy, a switch just been set to 'off'.

Well now, she had gone and flipped that switch again. It was on. God almighty, was it on.

For the first time in her life, Ariadne was eager to discover the woman she saw in the mirror. The slut she had seen a taste of that night. She felt like a teenager all over again, giddy to experiment . . . to try new things . . . to find new ways to test her flesh.

As she'd promised herself the night before, she took a shopping trip. Only, instead of going to the clothing outlet as planned, she took a trip to the opposite end of the mall, where a quaint sex and novelty shop was stashed away in the corner. Upon entrance, her nostrils flooded with a scent she hadn't experienced in over ten years—fresh leather, rubber and incense permeated through the tight spaces of the sex shop, adding a rush of excitement that she hadn't anticipated.

Part of her felt that she shouldn't be here . . . that this wasn't the place for a woman like her.

But she stayed. She simply couldn't leave. Something within was bolstering her courage . . . highlighting her eagerness.

She closed her eyes and took a breath. She felt the same rush —the familiar feeling as conscious thought melded seamlessly with inner lust. She tried to find that hidden place . . . that secret which hid something dark and forbidden. She dreamt of it . . . her mind constructed the doorway, and she reached for it. She pushed it open, just a little.

When her eyes opened again, the switch had pulled once again. The "slut" was in control.

Unflinchingly, she took a handbasket and began picking items from the racks and shelves, tossing them inside one after another. No reasoned thought drove her choices; no calculated interest swayed her. She allowed the lust which seeped from her core to choose for her—snatching up items which made her body tremble and her pussy moist with possibilities. She piled them on, one after another, until the first handbasket was full.

By the time she was finished, there were three of them, each filled to the brim with toys. She placed them all on the sales counter and urged the boy behind the register to hurry with his scanning. Or, at least she thought that's what she was urging. The sidelong glance he held with her for a moment said that he may have interpreted something different.

There was a flash of lust in his eyes, a curiosity about the type of woman who could walk into his store and purchase so much of his inventory in such a short visit. A knowing smirk rose on his pierced lip and his head shook with disbelief.

"Well, I guess you're planning some pretty interesting nights, huh?" he remarked.

"That's what I'm going for," she answered with a smile of faux-innocence.

"You . . . uh . . . you got anybody to help you try some of this stuff?"

Her head cocked to one side. "Nooooo. . . . Why?"

"Just saying. You might, ah, need someone to teach you."

She licked her lips at the thought, pure lust driving her. This boy was half her age, not much older than her own son. He paled in comparison to Barry's sturdy build, however. And while the boy certainly wasn't bad looking in any sense, his thin features really did nothing for her. She was almost horny enough that it didn't matter, but she wasn't that far gone yet. Her body knew well what it wanted, and she didn't this child could offer.

She handed over a check and shook her head in reply. "Thanks, but I can manage for now," she said with as friendly a smile as she could muster.

"Alright," the boy shrugged, bagging the last of her items. "But you know where I work, in case you change your mind. Name's Rick. You look like a lady who knows how to have some fun."

And fun is exactly what she had when she got home. When the door slammed behind her, she dropped the bags on the dining room table and kicked the heels from her feet. She shed her clothes hurriedly, tossing layer upon layer to the floor until her slender figure emerged stark naked. She felt the force inside her growing stronger, more impatient with her. Her pussy was dripping with urgency.

Again, when she woke later in the evening, she hardly remembered a thing. All she knew was that her pussy was dreadfully sore, and yet felt the best it had in ten years. She didn't remember anything she did, only that the pleasure had made it impossible for to think. She had transformed from Ariadne to "the slut" yet again.

And she needed more.

It took all of October and most of November for her to grow bored with her purchases. She had used each one of them. . . in every hole her body possessed . . . sometimes at the same time. But it wasn't enough anymore. That slut inside was growing stronger, and she needed stronger toys to compensate.

She made plans to go back, once she managed to catch up on her work. She had been dividing most of her time between her home décor business and her new "hobby", and at first it was hard to balance the two. She vaguely remembered that the first few days, she hardly got out of bed at all. By the end of the week, she was somewhat functional, but she was still prone to fits where she would just stop everything she was doing with the sudden craving to stick something inside her. It could happen anywhere in the house, at any time, and she would wake up back on the bed some hours later. During the next week, she finally established enough control to get through her day, but she had stopped wearing clothes outright and she almost always had something stuffed inside her holes at all times.

By this point, Ariadne had resigned to referring to herself by two different names. The normal, everyday personality was still just plain old "Ariadne Garrett", and the wanton, hypersexual personality was simply called "the slut". She felt a little silly calling herself by two different names, but often helped her cope with some of the more brazen things she tried. When calling herself "the slut", she lost all inhibition, all fear and restriction. It wasn't Ariadne who walked around the house stark nude—that was "the slut". It wasn't Ariadne who kept a finger in her pussy while on the phone with her business clientele—that was "the slut". And it certainly wasn't Ariadne who refused to wear panties and often fingered herself in public places—that, too, was the dirty, wicked "slut". It was quite the convenient half-truth, and Ariadne was beginning to invest in it wholesale.

What the heck happened to me?! She wondered solemnly. She had never been this type of person before, even when her husband had been around. Sure, she was his slut whenever he needed her to be, but she wasn't this brazen about it. When the "slut" was loose, the very thought of having to wear clothes disgusted her now. They served no purpose, except saving precious seconds that her body could be using for pleasure.

In her saner, more lucid periods, she sometimes Googled "nymphomania", "hypersexuality" and "sex addiction", worried about her sudden transformation, but from what she could tell, she wasn't suffering from anything like that. Her "hobbies" were beginning to balance with her normal life pretty seamlessly now. According to her research, the first sign of addiction is an inability to maintain a normal life alongside whatever other "needs" she had. That certainly wasn't the case for now: she was still getting work done even as she typed at her computer screen fulfilling client orders while sitting around stark naked, with a string of beads in her ass.

She felt a singe of relief at that, secure in the knowledge that as long as she could maintain her normal life, everything would be peachy-keen.

She kept up this habit for quite some time, and by Thanksgiving, she was becoming quite settled into it.

"Yeah, I'm homesick. I'm not gonna lie to you. And I don't wanna eat any of the crap they serve around here for Thanksgiving, that's for sure. I need some of what you got over there. Nobody does Thanksgiving like you, Ma."

Barry's voice paused a moment before he continued, "Ma? You there? Ma. Ma!?"

Ariadne's head rose from the mattress and she desperately gasped for air, wheezing as she tried to force the surge of her orgasm to recede. She picked up the receiver at her side, and turned off the speaker and mute.

"Yes baby, I'm here. I'm sorry." Her finger disappeared into her slit up to the knuckle. "I'm just working so hard . . ."

"Huh. I thought you usually took time off from your business stuff during this time of year."

"Yeah, well . . . I . . . with you gone, I just need something to keep me busy."

"I guess that makes sense. But anyway, I just wanted to let you know I'll be home in a few days. Seeya when I seeya."

He hung up the phone and Ariadne dropped just let the receiver fall to the floor. She placed both hands between her legs and forced as many fingers into her pussy that she could manage at one time.

The night before Barry was to finally come home, Ariadne spent a long session in her dream, having her first real heart-to-heart conversation with "the slut".

"Okay, listen you," she said, staring intently into the lustful eyes of the woman inside the mirror. "My son comes home tomorrow, so all of this will need to stop while he's here . . . just until he's left again."

You can't keep me away for that long, the slut answered with a smirk.

Ariadne felt her own hand rubbing against her thigh, stoking the body's fires with lust.

Mmmm . . . N-No!" She scolded herself, yanking her hand away. "This was fun while I was alone, but I'm not going to let Barry think his mom has become some disgusting, sex-crazed old cougar. Hell, I can barely even convince myself that I'm not! He's the only thing I have left, and I don't want you driving him away!

"So please . . .! Just for as long as Barry is here, let me have control again." She bit her lip. "You can do whatever you like with me, as soon as Barry leaves home again."

Mmmmmmm . . . The slut purred, her hips swaying and naked breasts bouncing as she walked closer to Ariadne. You have a deal. Her finger tips reached out and stroked Ariadne's own naked breast. But, as you know, Barry isn't here YET . . .

Once again, when Ariadne awoke, it was a slippery body and a sore pussy. She prayed that this would be the last such night, until Barry was safely back at school.

Barry's plane arrived at 10:25, and Ariadne was waiting at the terminal when it arrived. She eagerly greeted her handsome boy with a hug, and he showed off his strength by lifting her up from her heels and swinging her in an arch.

"Careful!" she demanded playfully. "Your mother is a little too old for acrobatics!"

"Aw, I wasn't gonna hurt ya," Barry said nonchalantly. "But anyway, how've you been, Ma?"

"Oh, like I said, busy busy busy."

"Oh really? I thought after getting me out of the house, you'd start throwing wild parties every night or something."

She scoffed. "I'm not like you, young man. And you better not be throwing parties either. You're at that school to study."

Barry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. But, anyway, I've been itching for one of those greasy burgers from Nick's. They don't have those in Cali, either."

Ariadne glanced back toward the baggage claim. "What about your luggage . . .?"

"Oh, I didn't bring anything," Barry told her. "I got all the stuff I'll need in my old room. I prefer to travel light, if I can."

The strange habits kids can develop after leaving the nest, Ariadne thought.

"Okay," she said, taking his hand. "Let's go get you that burger, honey. My treat."

The restaurant was more crowded than they would have liked, so they just took their order to go and decided to eat back home. Barry didn't wait that long, of course, and began stuffing his mouth as soon as he got in her car.

"Sorry, Ma," he said through a mouthful, "it was a long plane ride."

She just shook her head and smiled. "Yeah, right. That's no excuse, boy."

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry, mom. We can't all be high paragons of self-control like you."

Those words punched a bit of sore spot, forcing Ariadne to swallow a lump in her throat. Is that what he saw her as? A "paragon of self-control"? Thank God he hadn't seen her these last few months, then. He never would have recognized the woman that raised him. She couldn't ever let him find out. She had to remain in control, no matter what it took.

But, she could feel her pussy moistening just from the thought of what she had done. Even now, how much control did she really have? She hadn't even bothered wearing any panties to the airport, and here she was, sitting a foot or two away from her son, who didn't have any clue about what she had done. About the urges that she kept locked away.

God help her, she was getting horny just from the naughtiness of it.

"Mom!"

Startled, she immediately snapped back to reality, only now becoming aware of the finger stimulating her clit.

"Er . . . what? What is it, honey?" She asked, placing both hands back on the wheel.

"You didn't hear what I asked, did you?"

"No, baby, I didn't. Sorry, I must have dazed off a bit . . ."

"Pfft. Geez, I didn't know I was that boring . . ."

"No, no! You're not, sweetheart. I'm just . . . thinking a lot about work."

"Man, it's just work work work with you these days. If it's that boring in the house, why don't you get out and do something? Make some friends?"

"No, that's okay . . . I'm fine . . . really."

Barry sighed. "If you say so. Anyway, in a weird way, I guess you answered what I asked."

"What was the question, sweetie?"

Barry chuckled. "I asked if you'd found a boyfriend."

Ariadne choked. "W-What?! Of all the--? What would possess you to ask me that!?"

He shrugged. "Well, it's going on 11 years since Dad left, and now that you're all alone, I thought . . ."

"No. No, I'm fine, sweetie. I've got it under control."

"Well, I wasn't doubting that you did, but . . . I mean, well, you're my Ma and all, but you're still a woman . . ."

"Please, Barry, can you just drop this? This isn't right for us to be talking about." Her voice was disapproving, but her pussy lips were moistening.

Barry crossed his arms and leaned back. "Fine."

Things were quiet the rest of the trip home, and Ariadne's little close call motivated her to maintain tight self-control for the duration of the day. Barry, naturally, trudged right off to his room and turned on his videogames with nary a word. In the meantime, Ariadne knew she needed to get things ready for Thanksgiving dinner. She would be cooking most of the meal on her own, from scratch, so it was important to get things started.

Thirty minutes later, while she was taking inventory of everything she would need, she realized that she didn't have enough eggs. She could have sworn that she'd had more than this, but then again, she hadn't exactly been making regular trips to the store anymore. At least, not since . . .

Anyway, she knew she was going to need some eggs, but she didn't want to waste time on preparations. There was only one thing left to do.

"Barry, honey?" she called through the house, hoping her son could hear her from his bedroom. After a second, he came into the kitchen. "I need some eggs from the store. Mind grabbing some for me?"

"Aw, and I just turned on my Playstation . . ."

"Oh, well," she shrugged, "I guess if you don't want me to finish Thanksgiving dinner, then neverm—"

"Okay, okay . . . I'm going . . . ."

She tossed him the keys to her car. "Good boy. Be sure to check them before you buy them."

"I know, I know! Geez!"

After Barry left, Ariadne went back to work, gathering ingredients and utensils. It wasn't long after, however, that she began to get that same feeling of isolation as she had on the night Barry had left for college. Pausing from the task at hand, she looked around at the empty house, feeling that same sense of loneliness.

It wasn't until a few seconds later that she realized that one of her hands was rubbing her breast through her blouse yet again.

"No," she said to herself. "You promised. You promised to wait until Barry went back to college . . .!"

I made no such promise, the slut answered from within. I promised to wait until 'Barry left home'. And guess what he just did . . .?

Ariadne moaned as her hands slipped under her blouse. "But that's . . . that's not what I meant—"

Then you should haven't chosen you words more carefully. And don't forget YOUR end the deal. You promised that you wouldn't fight me again if I waited until he left. Do you plan to renege it?

Ariadne had no choice. The beast inside her had her trapped. "No."

She dropped everything and rushed into her bedroom. After she kicked the door closed, she dove underneath her bed and grabbed the extra-long dildo along with the KY. After fingering her asshole for a minute, she slowly began to work the hard metal tool into the opening. Her ass didn't see much action, so it was still incredibly tight. It created a surreal suction around the dildo as it slid inside, inch after inch. Ariadne was already cumming, gripping the sheets as she shook through a powerful orgasm. The slut instinct still kept tight control over the rod in her ass, giving it a nice, smooth stir as it explored the walls in her anus.

The slut knew everything that Ariadne wanted. Every time she felt one orgasm subside, there was another one right on its heels. There she was, pushing and pulling the dildo in and out of her own ass, but it felt like surrender. It made feel that much hotter to believe that there was something else inside doing it to her. It let her unleash a wilder side . . . a side willing to take risks in the name of pleasure. A side uninhibited by fear or "decency". With that side in control, she wasn't touching herself . . . she was fucking herself.

"Oh God . . .! Oh, Goooood . . ." Ariadne moaned.

Look into the glass, the slut commanded her. I want you to watch yourself being fucked.

Ariadne opened her eyes and glanced into the glass. The delirious look of ecstasy in her eyes added more flame to the lust burning inside. Her eyes were glazed, her mouth wide and panting, completely lost to the bliss she experienced.

She pounded the dildo in and out of her ass faster, ready to let the slut fuck herself with total abandon. "Yes! Yes, fuck me! Fuck me!" she shouted. "Fuck—"

But just then, her eyes caught something else in the glass. Somehow, the door was ajar, and there was a pair of eyes watching . . .

"Oh shit . . .!" She pulled the dildo out of her ass and turned. Her eyes went wide when she recognized the intruder. "Barry?!"

"Oh, fuck . . .!" Barry shouted, stumbling onto his back, kicking the door wide open as he fell.

Ariadne reached for a pillow to cover herself with, her heart pounding fiercely and her face flush with embarrassment. "Goddammit, Barry! What are you doing here?!"

"I n-needed some money and I was . . . I . . . I—" He stopped, attempting to cover his exposed, stiff cock with his hands. "What am I doing!? What are you doing?! Is this why you wanted me out of the house . . .?!"

She found her eyes unable to leave the stiff cock bursting through his fly. "Oh God, Barry . . . that . . . what I did turned you on!?"

Barry finally got to his feet again and tried to fix his exposure. "No, I . . . I was just . . . surprised and . . ."

Ariadne leaned closer, her voice falling to an awed whisper. "Were you masturbating to me?!"

Barry continued stammering. "Look, Ma, it's not what . . ."

She wasn't listening. She couldn't hear anything else, or see anything else for that matter, except the growth between his legs.

Ariadne was no longer here. The 'slut' had taken full control.

Slowly, she crawled off the bed on all fours, her naked body inching toward him. "Oh God, Barry . . . I did that to you . . .?"

"Don't look, Mom! Please don't l—"

Before he knew it, she had pounced. In one fell swoop, she had placed almost her entire mouth around his cock, bobbing her head up and down while her hands and knees were pressed to the floor. A momentous shock paralyzed Barry in his tracks, preventing him from backing away, preventing him from doing anything from watching with his mouth agape.

"M-Mom . . . ungh . . . w-what are you doing?!"

She didn't bother answering. Her mind was completely gone, just like the first night after he'd left home. She wasn't consciously controlling any actions; nothing she did or wanted could be justified by reason anymore. Everything was fueled by lust—just pure animal lust, and she was powerless to stop it. No, even if she hadn't been powerless, she would have wanted to.

And it wasn't long before Barry's resistance drained away, the pleasure from his mother's mouth becoming too potent to fight.

She sensed his rising eagerness and lifted her mouth from his tasty shaft, giving one last lick to sample his pre-cum. She gazed upward at him as her hand enveloped his manhood, adding a few strokes to incubate it her warmth.

Then she stood, looking him the eyes as she did so . . . his confused, but eager eyes.

"Take this off," she breathed, pulling his t-shirt upward.

He didn't hesistate. In less than a second, that shirt was away, leaving only his toned, hairless body for her to touch.

The shape . . . the build . . . 

Her fingers went to work on his belt, and he didn't need an invitation this time. He undid the buckle immediately, unfastened his pants, and slid them and his shorts down at the same time.

Now, she could fully admire her son's naked body . . . study it in a different light. Not as a mother looking over her child, but as a woman with needs looking over a man who could fill them.

She wanted this. She needed this.

"Come here," she said, grabbing his hand and yanking him to her bed. She sat back on it and pulled him closer, forcing his body to arc over hers as she laid back on the sheets.

"I need you, Barry," she growled. "I need you."

Unlike her, Barry still had a sliver of reason somewhere. It was that part of him that manifested at this moment. "Mom, are you sure about this? What we're about to do, it's—"

She responded by pulling his head close and kissing him, forcing her tongue into his mouth. When she pulled away, she only swallowed hard and said, "Do it. Fuck your mommy."

That broke every last bit of resistance he could manage. Barry descended on her like a beast, placing his mouth at her breasts and sucking hard on her nipples. She gasped and moaned as she watched him, urging him on with an arching posture. Her hands explored his naked shoulders, absorbing the chiseled texture of his broad shoulders. It had been so long since she had touched a man's flesh . . . and she was not disappointed with the belated result.

Barry pushed her down onto the mattress and sat up straight. Her eagerness only rising, she spread her thighs as wide as she could for him. Her breath held. Her eyes pleaded. He gave her only one short look before he took hold of his shaft and guided it to her sheath.

She sucked air, lost to the grandeur of feeling a man's cock, made of real, hard flesh rather than dead plastic and steel, touch her pussy. On their own, her hips writhed, hoping to convey her readiness. She wanted this to happen. She needed this to happen. Every second they delayed tore her apart inside.

Then, it finally happened. His hips pushed forward; her son's helmet entered her.

She threw back and panted, having anticipated for this moment for the past ten years. Somehow, this felt meant to be . . . like the past decade had built to this exact moment. She had waited so long, and now finally, she could enjoy it.

"Take me," she demanded. "Take me and make me yours."

That flipped something inside the teenager. Barry's entire body thrust forward, the fully length of his cock became buried into her mound. Ariadne yelped in pain, digging her nails into her son's back. He leaned his full weight onto his hands as his hips began to piston back and forth into her pussy. She had told him to make her his, and he seemed eager to do just that. He pumped her pussy like a farmer pumped a cow, like a contractor pounded a nail. He pumped hard and pounded fast—he showed it who was boss. It made her delirious . . . drove her crazy. The pain faded into dull memory, replaced only by wild, unbridled pleasure.

"Oh god, faster! Faster! Fuck me, honey! Fuck me!"

He moaned his satisfaction and did just what she asked. His dick slid faster and faster in and out of her pussy. She watched as the glistening shaft appeared and disappeared inside her wet hole time and time again. Her nails dug into his trunk-like arms, and her legs were dangling high above, flailing wildly with the pounding between her thighs.

God, how he fucked her. He jackhammered like a relentless machine, using his youth energy to piston the length of his cock in and out of his mother's defenseless pussy. She orgasmed right away and then orgasmed again when that one receded. She glanced up into her sons face, taking a moment to absorb the intensity of his lust, before remembering that he was her firstborn. Her one and only. She was letting her own child use her pussy for his pleasure.

She couldn't describe the feeling. Pride? Was it pride? Did she feel proud that her son was the one to lay claim to her pussy? To make her feel this good? Her body shivered from every impact, from each thrust he pushed into her. Something so powerful, so magnificent. She had created it. Raised it. And now, she was enjoying the fruits of it.

"Give it to me, my son . . . my lover. Oh, God . . . that feels so good."

"God, Ma . . . I'm gonna cum."

"Yes, yes!" She shouted immediately. "Cum inside me! Fill me!"

"But . . . but . . ." He tried to raise an objection, but it was difficult for him to talk and fuck intently at the same time.

"Please, do it. I need it, Barry. I need to feel it inside me."

Barry moaned at her words. "Tell me again, mom. Tell me again."

She reached up and clasped his head with both hands, pulling his body down onto hers.

"Fuck your mommy and cum inside her. Fuck your slut. Cum deep inside her pussy. Fill it up. Fill my pussy with your thick seed. Fuck it all into me!"

His mind snapped. Barry grunted and lurched forward, collapsing onto her as he released. She gripped him tightly, holding his body against hers as she felt his potent seed bursting from his cock and flooding her pussy. She felt it deep in her womb, splashing against the cervix, coating her insides with liquid heat. It made her scream with an orgasm, enjoying the pleasure of surrender.

After the plateau, the slow descent to earth began. Exhausted, their naked bodies still intertwined, mother and son simply stayed in post-coitus embrace. Neither one wanting to move . . . neither one want to acknowledge that it had ended.

------X------ 

The mood was awkward between the couple for some time afterward. Neither said a word, and Ariadne only lightly stroked her son's back as they lay there, their skin marinated with cum and sweat. After about ten minutes or so, Barry gently began to move, turning himself to face her and gaze into her eyes. For the first time since they'd begun, she began to contemplate what she had done and whom she had done it with. Her thoughts, once tinted by lust, became clearer once again.

A short time later, Barry kissed her forehead, rolled out of bed, and quietly gathered his things on the way out. Ariadne just lay on her side and watched him go, all the while feeling the syrupy cum leaking out of her naked pussy. She didn't raise a word to stop his exit. Conflicting emotions raged in her heart and mind, and she wanted to be alone to try and get a grip on them.

The slut slowly faded, and Ariadne alone was left to face the consequences of her actions. She remained still for sometime in that silent dark, until exhaustion finally claimed her and pulled her back into sleep.

When her consciousness was put to rest, she returned to her vivid dreams.

"God, what did I just do . . .?" she gasped.

It's simple, sweetie. You got everything you wanted. Everything you needed, and MORE.

"My own son . . .? How could I . . . how could I let that happen?"

If it makes you feel better, just say that it wasn't you. It was me . . . The slut that lives deep inside you. You surrendered your body to me, but it was the slut that was in control.

"But it was still my body and I . . . God, I enjoyed that . . ."

Oh, I know. The 'slut' responded cooly, licking her lips. So did I. So what's the problem?

"Everything! I might have just ruined my son's life! God, what if this gets out!? I could lose my business, never be able to show my face anywhere again. Oh, Jesus . . . could I be arrested for something like this?"

Barry is a grown man. He knew what he wanted.

"But . . . he's still a teenager. What if he was just confused, and I took advantage of that . . .?"

You saw what he was doing outside of your door. He watched you with lust in his eyes. He saw you doing nasty things to yourself, and he got off on it. He wanted to be doing those things to you . . . and you gave him the opportunity. You've given him more than any loving mother ever has.

"God, that just sounds so wrong, but maybe . . . maybe. . . No. What I did wasn't right. There's no way I can get around it or justify it."

But it made you happy. You can't deny that.

Ariadne bit her lip. "No . . . I can't. But, what about Barry? What if this destroys him? What if it makes him unhappy?"

What's done is done. The only way to find out is to wait and see.

Ariadne lay in her bed for some time before finally she started gathering her clothes from the floor and slipping back into them. She couldn't erase what had just occurred, but she could at least put it out of her mind while she got back to work. She still had a Thanksgiving to prepare for . . . although she didn't even know whether her family would still be left intact after today.

She kept at it until later that evening, after darkness had fallen outside. Finally, she heard a key enter the front door and the knob turn. Barry came inside with a grocery bag and a cautious look in his eye.

"I . . . uh . . . I got those eggs for you, Ma."

"Oh, um, t-thanks, Barry. Just, ah, put them on the counter."

As he came into the kitchen, each step was careful and considerate. His face remained flush as he placed the eggs on the counter and stepped back.

Neither of them made eye contact, and within a few seconds, neither of them could perform comfortably in front of the other. Ariadne tried to focus on her cooking, but her movements were very slow and very deliberate, as though she were doing this for the first time in her life. At the same time, Barry stood just on the other side of the counter, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck, eager to say something, but unsure what.

Soon, it became clear how awkward they felt around each other. They didn't look like two people who even knew each other . . . let alone a family.

This was exactly the sort of thing Ariadne had been afraid of. This was exactly what she didn't want to happen.

After more awkward silence, it was Barry who spoke first. "So, ah, M-Ma? Do you . . . um . . . do you want to talk about, um—"

She bit her lip and her eyes lowered. "No . . . Not now, Barry." Her voice lowered into a quiver. "Please."

He sucked between his teeth and nodded dejectedly. "A-Alright. Well, um . . . I'm gonna be in my room, so . . . let me know if you need me." Those words made them both cringe. "For the dinner, I mean. Let me know if I can help with the dinner."

He sauntered off quickly after that and closed his door behind him.

When he was out of sight, Ariadne's emotions finally flooded and she sunk to her knees, her eyes bursting with tears.

"Oh God . . . Oh God . . ." she hugged her arms against her chest as she sobbed. "I knew it. I-I've ruined everything. I've destroyed everything between us."

The next day was no better. Barry and Ariadne barely spoke to each other all through Thanksgiving day, only exchanging dialogue vital to maintaining a daily life. They avoided eye contact whenever possible, and they never came even within a full yard of one-another. It was positively torturous, and Ariadne felt a bit of heart die each and every second it continued. She wanted desperately, so desperately to talk about what had happened, but she couldn't. She just couldn't. There was this giant elephant just sitting in the house with them, and Ariadne couldn't bear to acknowledge it, not even to try to save any semblance of love between her child and her.

She had become a complete failure as a mother.

They went to bed in separate rooms, where Ariadne felt her body grow hot again. Though it made her feel dirty, she touched herself again and kept a faithful watch on the door. Part of her long to see it open, just a hair . . . to see a pair of eyes staring at her through the dark. The thought got her off—it drove her mad with lust.

It would let her know that he had forgiven her. That he didn't see what happened before as a mistake. That she wasn't the world's worst parent.

But it never came true. This time, the door never moved.

Things grew even worse the rest of the holiday weekend. She and Barry barely saw one-another, let alone spoke. He just stayed in his room the whole time, playing those damn games. She sat in the front room watching television or checking her laptop for client orders. She did whatever it took to try and get her mind off of the situation, but still it lingered in the back of her mind, just hanging there like a hangman's noose.

But their strained relationship wasn't Ariadne's only lingering concern. On Saturday, she took a trip to the drug store and bought a home pregnancy test; despite being a lustful wreck at the time, she distinctly remembered that her son had emptied his balls into her pussy, and despite being so much older, she was as much a fertile woman as he was a nubile young man. At the time it happened, she was overcome by her slut side that she thought of nothing except the needs of her body. But now that she was back to Earth, there were consequences to consider. There were things that needed doing.

She never told Barry where she was going, and only casually shouted that she would be back in a bit. Going into the drug store and buying the pregnancy test was one of the most awkward things she had done in her entire life—though she knew that it had to be a completely normal occurrence, and she'd of course done it before twenty years ago, the circumstances were much different this time. Or at least, for her they were. To everyone else in the store, she was just another thirty-something, over-the-hill brunette that seemed a tad socially inept.

How could they imagine that she may have been pregnant with her own grandchild?!

Returning home, Ariadne performed the test quietly and set it aside to wait the necessary five minutes. Since a watched pot never boiled, she looked around for something to do for the time needed. She decided to listen to one of her favorite songs, which ran for about four minutes and thirty-nine seconds. That should give the test plenty of time, she thought.

Except she barely even heard the music at all. Her eyes were constantly on the minute-second counter, and her eyes constantly darted back to the bathroom. Her foot tapped nervously, and she started chewing her fingernails for the first time since she was a little girl. It was even impossible to for her to find a comfortable angle to sit in—her heart was racing so fast that she couldn't help but feel restless.

Why were these five minutes taking so long!? Why did every tick of the clock seem to take longer each time!?!

Finally, the music stopped and Ariadne raced out of her seat and ran back to the bathroom. She picked up the indicator and held her breath.

Negative.

She sighed, and fell back on the wall, rubbing her forehead. So she wasn't pregnant after all. That was . . . a good thing, right?

And yet, why did part of her feel disappointed by the news?

It couldn't be that something inside of her wanted to have her own son's baby . . .?

No, it wasn't her that wanted it. Despite what had happened, despite what it might have cost her, the "slut" was still there. For the most part, things had slowed down just a tad after what she and Barry had done, but she could still feel that side of herself tingling at the back of neck. More than once, she caught herself cupping her own breasts while she sat alone. It was even worse when she thought of the night before Thanksgiving. About how her son had ravaged her pussy . . . staked his claim on what he desired. He had been such a predator. Such a magnificent beast. Such a man.

Despite everything she knew was moral, she couldn't deny that she had enjoyed what had happened, and that, if the slut had her way . . . she would do it again.

Sunday came, and she didn't see Barry until it was almost time for his flight back to California, and the only time the two of them got within arms length was inside of her car. The drive to the airport was muted and uncomfortable—the longest damn drive she'd ever taken in her entire life. And when Barry stepped on the plane, it was without a single word. He only gave her a faint, forced smile before heading through the terminal.

As she'd been promised, once Barry was gone again, the wanton slut came out to play. Her time locked away had made her even more restless and impossible to satisfy. The fingers, the nudism, the toys, were simply not enough anymore. As much as Ariadne hated the thought, there was only one reason: the slut's standards had changed after just one sampling of Barry's cock. Dead plastic and metal, unable to truly give or receive, simply didn't do it for her now. Less than a week after Barry returned to California, Ariadne was back at the mall, headed back to the sex shop.

Hopefully, Rick would be there.

Yet, when she entered the shop, she found that he wasn't. Behind the counter was a girl about the same age with short, bleached blond hair and black roots. She was just as skinny as Rick was, and shared some of his taste in fads. Along with her wispy hair, she had black shadow around her eyes and piercing on her nose and lip. She was wearing a white t-shirt with the strap of a pink tank top visible underneath.

She spotted Ariadne as she approached and greeted her with a friendly smile.

"Hi! Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Um," Ariadne began, peeking behind the girl at the curtain which led to the employees-only area. "Is Rick here today?"

A sly grin passed through the girl's lips. "Ooooh, you must be Ariadne Garrett."

"Wow. H-How did you know that . . .?"

"Because my brother mentioned you a few months back. Your name was on the check you wrote. Your description kind of stands out from our other customers, and believe me . . . he remembered you. He's going to be pissed that he missed you today, especially when I tell him you asked for him."

"Oh, he's . . . he's out?" Ariadne asked disappointedly.

"Yeah. He's gonna be gone a while. Came down with measles a few days ago. He's probably at home watching Steve Wilkos or something right now."

"Oh. Well . . . I hope he feels better soon," Ariadne said with a warm smile. "Give him my regards."

"Oh I will," the young woman said with a knowing smile. "My name's Emily, by the way. I'm his big sister. Is there anything I can help you with, or were you looking specifically for my brother?"

Ariadne thought about it for a moment. While it was true that she had come here to speak with Rick . . . she hadn't quite made up her mind whether it was with illicit intent or if she just felt more comfortable making her purchases with him. In a manner of speaking, he was her "first", and he really made her feel more at ease about what she had been purchasing. The fact that he seemed enticed by her interests really helped her set aside the pangs of guilt.

But Emily seemed just as nice in that respect, and Ariadne really didn't want to go home empty-handed . . .

"Well, maybe you can help me," she said.

"Sure," Emily nodded.

"I'm, uh . . . I'm looking for something new. The stuff I bought last time worked great, but . . ."

"But it got old after a while, right?"

"Right," Ariadne agreed.

"Oh, trust me, honey, it's pretty normal. Although, I don't think I've seen anyone grow bored with our stuff as fast as you have. I mean, if I remember correctly, you bought quite a lot of products that day."

"Yes . . . I did," Ariadne admitted sheepishly.

Emily cupped her hand under her chin and thought. "Well, what are your interests? If you tell me a bit more about your fetishes, I can point you on the right track."

Ariadne paused at the question—she had never really even thought about her fetishes before. She had hardly even fantasized much about sex in all her life, and the only two people she'd ever done it with were Stewie . . . and Barry.

"I'm not sure," she dismayed. "Sorry, but I never really thought about it."

"Oh, that's okay, hon. Sounds like you're kind of 'vanilla'. A lot of people don't even give fetishes much thought until they've seen the options. So . . . I tell you what: I'll ask some questions and that'll help me learn what I need to know. Cool?"

"Yes," Ariadne agreed.

"Okay, first . . . do you get laid much? Or is most of this for single-player use?"

Ariadne found it harder to answer such a personal question than she initially thought. "Um, 'single-player' I guess."

"Well, that certainly narrows it down. Do you prefer penetration or stimulation?"

"P-Penetration." Ariadne shifted her collar uncomfortably.

"Do you like length or girth?"

"Length."

Emily stepped from behind the counter with a step-ladder. She stepped up and reached for a large box, at least 2-by-1-feet, at the top of a shelf. Once she stepped down, she handed the box to Ariadne. "Here you go," she said. "From what I gather, you'll probably like that. I don't remember seeing it on your purchase list from before."

It was true, Ariadne had never seen this particular item before, but it looked magnificent. Her pussy was already tingling with anticipation for it.

With an aside glance, Emily added: "Although, if you're willing to spend some real dough, there's some other things I could recommend for you . . ."

The mystique in Emily's tone captured Ariadne's curiosity. "What is it?"

"Just a sec," Emily said, pushing a switch on the wall behind her. Suddenly, the gate at the front of the store began to fall, sealing off the entrance, and leaving Ariadne and Emily the only two inside.

"Follow me," Emily directed, disappearing behind the employee curtain.

Ariadne followed her beyond the curtain and past a large office and break room. A minute later, the two headed downstairs, and Emily turned on a light switch to reveal what lurked underneath the store. A huge space, kind of a cross between a storeroom and a workshop, was set up downstairs, with some of the most incredible and intricate machines Ariadne had ever seen. She didn't even know what half of them were supposed to do. There was one that looked like it was built from parts of a motorcycle and an ironing board. Another seemed to be a modified treadmill attached to an oriental rickshaw. Her mind boggled with just what the hell people were meant to do with these things, but her imagination was going wild with possibilities.

"What do you think?" Emily asked.

"It's incredible!"

Emily beamed and backed away, her arms spread outward. "Some of these machines are commercial products, but are only sold on special requests. Others are things that customers have asked Rick and me to put together for them in our spare time. We don't do that too often, though. Too much time, and we don't have the staff or budget to run safety tests and shit like that. If a customer hurts themselves on our crap, it's bad for business."

Ariadne couldn't believe it. "You and your brother build sex machines in your spare time?"

"Well, I design 'em. Rick builds 'em. I'm an artist and Rick's in school to become an engineer. This started as kind of a little side project for us, and we enjoyed it, so we kept at it. Like I said, though, we've had less and less time for it over the years and all, what with me taking over the store and Rick starting school."

Ariadne could only shake her head in astonishment. "Amazing. Really, amazing."

Again, Emily beamed. "Thanks, babe. Now, what I wanted to show you was this way."

Ariadne followed her another corner of the room, where Emily direct her attention to a machine that was small, at least compared to some of the others, and shaped something like a saddle with a dildo pointing up from top. Ariadne stared it over a few times before finally turning to Emily.

"What is it?"

"It's a Sybian," she told her. "I mounted one onto this bench to make it easier for customers to sample it without having to get on the floor if they didn't wanna."

Ariadne's eyes widened. "T-try it out? You mean, I could . . .?"

"Oh sure, if you wanna. I'd have to stick around and supervise for safety concerns, but if you want to go at it, knock yourself out."

"What about your store . . .?"

"Oh please, girl. If I can sell you just one of the things down here, I can afford to leave the shop closed for an hour or two. Besides, I think after the money you dropped last time, you've earned the privileges of a 'preferred' customer."

Ariadne thought about it, and the idea only enticed her further. She'd never done anything like this outside of her home before, and certainly not with an audience. She'd had her little exhibitionist streak in the garden, but that was as far as it had gotten. The idea of letting a complete stranger watch her fuck herself on some machine made her very excited.

Your pussy is tingling just from the thought, isn't it? A voice inside teased. Do it.

"Okay," she said with a swallow. "I'll do it."

"Bitchin'," Emily cheered. "Give me a minute and I'll set it up. You go ahead and make yourself comfortable."

While Emily did her setup, Ariadne backed away and slipped out of her clothes. It didn't take long—she had stopped wearing a bra and panties ages ago, and her skirt and blouse slid away from her body with ease. She decided to leave her heels on . . . both because the basement floor was cold and because she felt sluttier with them on.

 A few minutes later, Emily signaled that she was ready. "Go nuts on it, if you want to. Just try to treat it like it's a real dick."

Ariadne felt a little odd at first, not because she was uncomfortable being playful with an inanimate cock, but because it still felt odd for someone to be watching. She couldn't help but continue glancing over the corner of her eye while Emily stood back and watched her bend over and slip her mouth over the machine's phallus. She suckled on it lightly at first, still not yet comfortable with going all out.

"You still seem a bit tense," Emily told her. "If it helps out, try to think of the last good cock you had and imagine that you're getting a repeat."

Ariadne felt those words unlock something inside, and her mind quickly faded into memory. In moments, her consciousness was transported back just a week ago, when she had sampled her first real cock in ages. She recalled how magnificent it had been . . . how warm . . . how sweet. Her senses became overridden with memory—she no longer tasted plastic on her tongue, but Barry's delectable manhood. She ran her tongue along the length, sampling his freshness, taking in as much of his impressive girth as she could possibly stand. She took him into her mouth and pushed the head deep into the back of her throat, sucking every ounce of flavor she could find.

"Damn," Emily gasped in wonder, "was it something I said?"

Ariadne was too delirious with lust to reply. She wouldn't have taken her mouth away from such a titillating object, anyway. Her head stroked back and forth along its length as she worked it like a true cock-hungry whore.

When she finally did ease away from it, it was only so that she could lean forward and smother it between her breasts . . . smooshing them together so that she could feel hardness between her pillowy tits. A tip of the shaft still peeked through, so her tongue dabbed at its tip.

In the meantime, Emily just watched, her expression conveying her surprise at how deeply the older woman seemed to be getting into it.

"I don't think this is just a 'sample' anymore, dear. But, don't mind me. Customer satisfaction is number one at my store."

And sure enough, her body consumed with barely-restrained lust, Ariadne lifter her leg over the bench and positioned her pussy just above the Sybian. With one hand, she spread her pussy lips while the right held the stiff object in place. Then she sat down, and felt the hardness of the object push deeply, spreading the walls of her tight cunt. She rocked her hips back and forth, working it all the way inside, until her ass was resting firmly on the saddle.

"Well, I guess that's my cue . . . " Emily stated, turning a knob at the console before her. Ariadne's body launched backward as her pussy lit with fire. The tremor inside her cunt sparked every nerve in her body and triggered a rush of pleasure that completely shut down her mind. She road the machine like beast, screaming through multiple orgasms, doing her best to stay in perpetual ecstasy. She didn't have try hard—this was a very new and exciting experience for her, and the orgasms rolled by like train cars.

How long she kept this up for . . . half an hour . . . forty-five minutes . . . she couldn't say. All she knew was that at some point, Emily walked beside her and smiled.

"Not that I mind watching your fun, miss . . .but I'm just going to assume that you're going to be wanting this one?"

Ariadne didn't answer. She merely opened an eye to acknowledge the young woman's presence. And then the next second, she grabbed the girl by her upper arm and yanked her forward, pulling her lips directly to her own. Emily's eyes went wide, completely unexpectant of this outcome. At first, she tried to pull away, but Ariadne's grip was stronger than she thought. The older woman's tongue explored her mouth, and their saliva mixed and wetted one-another thoroughly.

And in the next second, Emily gave in.

She pulled both her t-shirt and undershirt off in one fell swoop, exposing her breasts—perky and small in comparison to Ariadne's round orbs. Both women placed their hands one each others' chests and squeezed, however, moaning softly at the pleasantness of feeling another woman's breasts. They kissed once more, sliding their sliding tongues in and out of each-others mouths, over the lips, and under the chin. Their hands wandered everywhere, touching every inch of skin they could find . . .stroking every sensitive spot with the tips of their nails.

The gave themselves to each other . . . their sleek, feminine bodies rubbing against one-another with unabashed desire. Emily pulled Ariadne off of the Sybian and laid her back against the workshop floor, sending a shiver of both chill and excitement through her naked body. Emily then juxtaposed herself, crawling over Ariadne, starting her lips at the breast and then traveling downward. As her lover crawled over her, Ariadne reached out caress the outline of her body. She savored the feel of Emily's smooth skin—she enjoyed encircling her hands around the rose tattoo on the young woman's lower back.

When Emily's face reached Ariadne's pussy, she pushed her nose down deep into her sex, taking a whiff of her womanly scent. Ariadne moaned when breath from the girl's nostrils touched her clit, sending her into a sudden but welcome orgasm. At the same time, Ariadne found Emily's mound—easy to do when the girl had pierced it with a showy piece of jewelry—and stuck her fingers inside. For the first time, Ariadne used her fingers to pleasure a pussy that wasn't hers. It felt surprisingly good.

"Oh yeah," Emily moaned, wiggling her hips against Ariadne's fingers. "Lick it. Please, lick my pussy."

Ariadne did as she was told and stuffed her own tongue into the young lady's snatch. Emily cried out with pleasure, and a trickle of her juices fell upon the older woman's tongue. Unfazed, Ariadne lapped up every drop and then pressed her tongue further and side to try and spur another drizzle. In the meantime, Emily was returning the favor by being attentive to Ariadne's pussy, sticking up to four fingers inside and jacking away the moist insides.

For several minutes, both women moaned and came over and over, their bodies a peachy-colored mass of writhing flesh on the cold basement floor. Ariadne had never been with a lover that responded so well, or who picked up on her own signals so easily. What pleasure Ariadne gave to Emily's pussy, Emily transformed and returned twofold. That then spurred Ariadne to do the same, and the heights of their rapture.

Again, Emily cried, "Oh God, I'm cumming. Cum with me, baby . . . cum with me!"

Both women put every ounce of energy into fucking the other's pussy with complete abandon. Ariadne worked her tongue and teeth on Emily's clit while Emily pounded her hand into Ariadne's pussy to the knuckle. Both women sobbed loudly, their cries echoing through the still workshop. At last, they both climaxed at the same time, both women arching their backs as delight radiated through them.

When it was over, Emily crawled next to Ariadne and lay next to her. Both women continued to tongue-kiss and stroke one-anothers' bodies. The lust was still strong, but their bodies were tapped out completely.

"Oh . . . shit," Emily said, pausing between kisses on Ariadne's nose and lips. "Rick said you looked like a fun kinda girl, but I had my doubts at first. I thought you were some innocent Suzy Homemaker. God-damn, you proved me wrong."

"God, that was . . . incredible," Ariadne cried breathlessly.

"You're tellin' me. You ate a lot of pussy before, Miss?"

Ariadne shook her head. "No. Never before today. You . . . you were my first girl."

"Damn. Color me doubly surprised, then," Emily said, scumming through her pockets for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. "You were mine, too. I called myself a nice, clean, straight girl before today." She stroked a finger across Ariadne's breast. "Not anymore, though. From here out, I'm bi at least."

Ariadne kissed her again, and Emily hugged her older lover's body closely to her own before offering a second cigarette. "So what now?" Emily asked, sparking a flame for both of them. "This a one-time thing? You gonna just take your Sybian and that'll be that?"

"I don't know," Ariadne said, caressing the young girl's chin. "What do you think?"

"If it's up to me, then there's no way this ends here," Emily told her, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "I mean, I ain't lookin' to go outta-state and put a ring on you, but I definitely want to do this again."

Ariadne smiled. "Me too."

"Good," Emily said with another kiss. "I don't think I'm gonna tell Rick about this, though."

"Huh? Your brother? Why not?"

"For one, he'll already be pissed to know he missed you, let alone to find out what we did. If I tell him, he's going to want to participate, or he'll feel left out."

Ariadne licked her lips. "Then why not let him?"

Emily rose an eyebrow. "For two, he's my brother. Sorry, I may have just eaten a stranger's pussy on the basement floor, but that's a little too nasty even for me. I just don't think I could bear to stick my tongue someplace my brother's cock has been."

Ariadne nodded. "I understand."

"But damn you are a freak," Emily added, stroking Ariadne's hair with one hand while squeezing the cheeks of her ass with the other. "I like the kinky you. Never thought I'd say this to another chick, but it definitely turns me on."

Ariadne smiled and moaned at the touch. "Well, if you don't mind keeping the shop closed a little longer, I'm about to get a second wind."

The suggestion widened Emily's grin. After snuffing her stick on the stone floor, she turned to her lover and said, "Oh, I think I can definitely afford that." 

------X------