Instruction

"Are you sure this won't hurt him?" I had asked earlier for maybe the twentieth time before Paul had arrived home from work.

"Not a chance. It's a hypnotic with sedative, paralytic and some mild hallucinogenic properties. Homeland Security uses it for interrogating subjects. Most subjects think they're having dreams." My son grinned evilly and said, "Dad's gonna get the dream of a lifetime!"

Twenty minutes after beginning to sip at his drink, Paul was looking around at us owlishly, nodding off again and again. Finally, John said in a commanding voice. "Dad, go upstairs and get ready for bed."

Paul nodded and said, "I'm going upstairs and getting ready for bed." He stood up, a little off balance and suddenly our son was at his side, saying, "Let me help you." With his hand at Paul's elbow, he headed for the door to the den, pausing once to look back and smile as he said, "Mom, give us about fifteen minutes, will you?"

I nodded and replied, "Yes, love." I fidgeted around the downstairs for a few minutes and then went upstairs. I undressed in my son's room, putting on a long, white, fluffy robe. Finally, I went and knocked on my own bedroom door, opening the door when I heard my son beckon to me. I stepped in and immediately gasped as the scene was far more shocking than I had envisioned it being.

My husband was sitting in a cushioned upright chair that I usually used at my makeup vanity. He was wearing only his pajama tops, his lean body showing age with a growing pot belly pooching out from underneath. His hands were tied to the back rails of the chair and his feet were tied to the legs. John had used silk scarves to restrain his father, tying them with knots he'd learned as a child during scouting. His cock, small and limp rested slightly amidst a graying mass of pubic hair. Paul's head was down and he was softly snoring.

John came out of the bathroom, smiling at me as he approached and took me in his arms. "Are you ready, Mom?" he asked, that arrogant tone of confidence thick in his voice.

I took a deep breath and said, "I guess so. Are you sure he's not going to go nuts. Can he get out of his restraints?"

My son kissed me, his hands roaming over my robe clad body as he did. "I'm sure, Mom. Oh, Dad might get a little upset when he sees us, but it will be alright. The bonds probably aren't necessary – while he's under the influence of the drug, he'd stand there on one foot and watch us if I told him too."

I nodded and kissed him again, feeling a little sinful for French-kissing my son in the same room that my husband was in. A little breathlessly, I said, "I'm ready to go!"

John laughed and then clapped his hands together loudly and bellowed, "Wake up, Dad! It's time for school!"

Paul's head snapped up, his eyes going wide, but clearly a bit unfocused. "What...what is it? What's going on?" He looked curiously at John and I, our son's arm around my shoulders.

"Well, Dad...it's 'Learn how to please your wife Day.'" John said seriously. "Apparently, you've never figured out how to make Mom cum her brains out with that little willy of yours, so I'm going to show you how. Now pay close attention!"

Paul's brow furrowed in confusion and then he looked down at his bound arms and feet. "What the hell is this...what am I doing trussed up like thi..."

"Quiet, Dad!" John said loudly, interrupting his father. "You can ask questions if you want, but mostly you should keep your mouth shut and just watch!"

I watched, a little amazed as Paul fell silent, looking at us intently, but not speaking. John stepped behind me, his arms slipping around my waist while he nibbled on my neck, my short dark hair brushing against his cheek. John looked up at his frowning father. "When was the last time you just made out with Mom, Dad?" he asked. "When did you last kiss her sweet neck and run your hands over her gorgeous body?" His hands slid upwards to cup my breasts through the gown. I felt my skin burn as I felt my husband's eyes staring at his wife and son."

Looking like he didn't want to answer the question, but unable to resist, Paul replied, "I...I don't remember."

John sighed. "You need to be loving Mom up more, Dad. You won't believe how wet it makes her when you just run your tongue along the nape of her neck." He did exactly that and a little groan slipped from my lips. John chuckled and I felt his hands slid around my waist again, undoing the simple knot of my robe's belt. His hands slipped inside and pulled the robe wide, exposing my naked flesh underneath. "Check out this hot body, Dad. Isn't Mom sexy?" My son drew the robe back over my shoulders and then off my arms and tossed it away to be completely forgotten.

John's hands slipped around my waist again, quickly sliding upwards to cup and squeeze my breasts and I sagged back against him, his touch making me weak in the knees. Paul was frowning and he shifted restlessly in his seat, his mouth working for a moment before he muttered, "She's your mother, John. She shouldn't be naked in front of you and you shouldn't be touching her like that."

"Well, maybe I wouldn't be if her husband was doing what he needed to do!" John shot back as he caressed my breasts, sliding fingers between my hard nipples and pinching them. "Mom likes how I touch her, don't you, Mom?"

"I love how our son touches me," I said in a thick voice. I wiggled myself against him, feeling his erection underneath his sweats rubbing against my ass cheeks.

John squinted his eyes at Paul and said, "Why aren't you hard, Dad? Don't you think Mom's sexy? She's got me as hard as a rock. Do you want to see?" Our son stepped to my side and took my hand and put it against the bulge in his sweat pants. "Do you want to see, Dad? Show him, Mom."

I turned and rubbed the bulge in his crotch and then glancing at Paul, I pulled John's sweats down, his cock catching me in the face as I squatted and helped John get free of his sweat pants altogether. Rising back up, I caught his big dick in my hand and kissed my way up his chest as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head and casually threw it away. Looking at my husband, I stroked our son's cock as I hissed, "Isn't our son something...such a fine, big dick on our little boy!" I stroked it over and over as I added, "Our son is hard for me...for his mother!"

Paul glowered at me, but didn't say anything. His expression told me he wasn't happy and I could detect jealously burning there. Suddenly emboldened, I squatted down and said, "And his mother loves sucking his fine cock!"

My husband gave a little squawk of surprise and John said, "Isn't she lovely! And she sucks cock so fine...but then you should know that." Our son shook his head and said, "I can't believe that when Mom offers to suck your dick, you don't scream, 'YES!' at the top of your lungs. Shit, Dad, I can't believe you aren't asking Mom to blow you every morning when you wake up and before you go to bed at night."

Paul's eyes were wide as he watched me wrap my lips around John's big cock and take him into my mouth – showing him how well I had learned to deep-throat over the last several weeks. "Hey-oh!" exclaimed John. "Looks like Dad kinda likes that!" I glanced over and to my surprise; Paul was getting erect, his small cock rising up from his gray hair like a small animal checking out its surroundings.

John pulled me to my feet, kissing me passionately and sloppily, making sure his father could see our tongues rolling and curling around each other and not caring if he could taste his own pre-cum on his mother's lips.

Our son broke the kiss and he now squatted at my side as I moved my legs further apart at his hands' direction. "Now, Dad...pay attention because we're getting to the heart of the matter..." He paused and grinned up at me. "Or maybe we should call it the cunt of the matter." His hand slid over my mound, slowly rubbing it while parting my labia to reveal how wet I truly was.

"Now, Dad...after you've necked with Mom a while and got naked and maybe she's sucked your little cock a bit, you should be returning the favor, getting Mom ready for a good dicking!" John spread my pussy lips with his fingers, showing my husband my pink, dripping wet flesh. "I can't believe that you've never done Mom the courtesy of licking her pussy even one fucking time in twenty-seven years!"

"That's nasty," Paul intoned immediately.

"No, it's not, Dad," replied John. "Mom has one of the sweetest tasting pussies I've ever eaten and I've eaten a lot. Now watch and learn!" Our son turned and slipped his tongue into my spread flesh, lacing his meaty probe the length of my wet slit, ending it only after he rolled his tongue over my already swollen clitoris which had emerged from its hood.

I cried out in utter pleasure, scarcely believing it possible that John was licking me in front of his father. I cried out again as he swirled and danced his tongue over my labia before taking hold of one lip with his teeth ever so gently and then sucking on it. I had to reach out and steady myself on his shoulder. "Soooo fucking good!" I moaned, staring into my husband's eyes. "You can learn from our son, Paul...John knows how to please a woman."

Paul just pursed his lips like he was sucking on a sour lemon and shook his head. "Nasty," he said again.

"You're a fucking idiot, Dad," John retorted after taking one last loving lick of my wet pussy. Then I was moaned again as he deftly slipped two fingers inside me. "You won't even finger Mom, will you?" he asked skeptically. "You do know that even if your little dick won't rise to the occasion, a man can still please a woman...make her gush and scream till she passes out if only you know how to use that tongue and a couple of fingers?"

"Ohhhhhm yessss!" I crooned as our son stirred his fingers around inside my pussy, teasing the nooks and crannies, so knowledgeable now to my most sensitive spots. "Yesssss," I sighed as I felt him curl the fingers upwards, reminding me of the first time he'd touched me. With practiced ease, John found my G-spot and massaged it and I unleashed my first scream of the evening as I exploded with orgasmic delight, pussy juices gushing from my cunt to cover John's hand and splatter his face as he moved in to add his tongue to his incestuous assault on my motherly pussy.

One hand dug into my son's shoulder while the other was tangled in his hair, not wanting him to ever move as his fingers touched my most secret and precious places while his tongue rolled up and down my lips and had its way with my clitoris! I wavered in place, wondering how long I could keep standing as my orgasm took me to pieces.

"Shame on you, Dad for never giving Mom cause to scream like that," John exclaimed in a heated voice after letting his tongue leave my mound. "I should have grown up hearing Mom screaming out in pleasure damn near every night of my life and you never gave her this much pleasure with all the times you poked her with your little dick combined!"

John stood up and walked me backwards towards the bed, me staggering as his fingers remained inside me, doing as much to hold up as anything and making me continue to gush pussy juices over his hand. When the back of my knees hit the bed, I collapsed into a sitting puddle of still quivering flesh, my legs all akimbo as John finally and slowly slipped his fingers out of me, my juices dripping from his hand.

"Mom tastes so sweet, Dad," John said, shaking his head. "You're an idiot for not wanting to taste her everyday of your married life. Nasty? You've never even tasted Mom's sweet cunt, have you?" Our son strode across the room and without warning smeared my juices over his father's mouth.

Paul jerked back his head, but his mouth and chin were shiny with my wet creams. His arms struggled to raise up to wipe his mouth, but he was too well restrained. Finally, tentatively, his tongue emerged and ran along his lips. He made a face and tried to turn his head and wipe my juices off on his shoulder, but couldn't do it. "Tastes awful," he muttered, glaring at us.

John gave a sigh and said, "You're a fool, old man." He returned to me and bent over and kissed me, sharing the taste of my pussy with me. I had become quite fond of it, especially knowing how he'd obtained it and the pleasure his efforts had brought me. Looking back at Paul, our son said, "Your entire mission in life should be to make Mom happy, hearing her screams of pleasure echoing in your ears all the time." He rose up and brought his cock nearer to my face and recognizing my cue, I opened wide and took the head of his cock in my mouth, rolling my tongue over the firm, but spongy flesh, loving the feel of how he throbbed.

"You need to prime the pump, Dad. Make your woman all hot and bothered with your tongue and fingers – get her squirming and anxious for some hard cock. It's true...size doesn't matter," said John with a bit of a smile. "But, it doesn't hurt either."

Our son motioned me to move back onto the bed. "Now watch carefully, Dad. Some of this might surprise you, but the whole point of the lesson is to show you how to make love properly to Mom." He climbed up on the bed and grinned at Dad as he moved between my widespread legs. "Our goal is for you to learn how to make Mom scream. Just watch and learn." He leaned into me, the head of his cock slipping perfectly between my pussy lips as if he was born to do this...and maybe he was.

John glanced at Paul whose eyes were opened so wide, I thought they might pop out of his head as he saw his son prepare to fuck his wife. "Don't worry if you can't see everything, Dad...before we get through, I expect Mom and me will fuck from every angle and position you could think of."

"No, you can't!" shouted Paul, but my husband's protests were drowned out by my own sudden screams as John sank his cock in me forcefully, mastering me with his wonderfully erection as he had for months. When I felt my son's hard penis was inside me, I was his...completely and willingly.

Paul rocked in his chair straining against his bonds as our son fucked me, his protests falling on deaf ears as John and I were totally consumed with each other – our bodies quickly moving into a mutual rhythm that was echoed by my cries of pleasure and John's pleased grunts of delight. I was a little surprised that during the infrequent moments that my husband entered my mind and I spared him a glance that despite his vocal objections and dismayed expressions, his cock stood tall and erect.

As promised, John led us on a tour de force of sexual positions spanning missionary to reverse cowgirl to side by side and doggie style – shifting positions every few minutes to provide Paul with various angles so he could see our son's cock slamming into my cunt and how I looked in the midst of orgasm.

I'd lost count of my orgasms and my voice was harsh from my cries and pleas for John to fuck me harder when he swung us around so that he was taking me from behind, the two of us facing Paul. Our son reached out and wrapped his fingers in my short hair and pulled my head up so my husband could see my expression as I moaned as John's short, brutal thrusts brought me closer and closer to another orgasm.

"Look at Mom...look at her expression, Dad," John said in gasping breaths. "In the twenty-seven years you've been married, have you ever seen her look so happy, so loved, so well fucked?" I could see over Paul's shoulder at my vanity mirror and look at myself, eyes hooded and slack-jawed with utter sexual bliss. Our son thrust deep in me, our bodies slapping wetly together and didn't withdraw, instead taking a loud and deep breath. "Do you smell that, Dad? That's Mom! That's Mom's wet pussy! This room should smell like this everyday after Mom has been fucked as she deserves! If you won't do it, I promise you, I will!"

John's words sent me over the edge and I began to howl as I came once again, more intensely than I had all evening, my pussy squeezing my son's cock and he bellowed and began shooting his hot semen into my womb. As I squalled with ecstatic pleasure, John growled harshly, "Listen to Mom...that's how you're supposed to make her feel! Mom has the sweetest, hottest pussy on the planet. Love her like she deserves!"

Paul made an odd squawking sound and suddenly exploded on his own, his seed shooting up weakly to splatter on the carpet and then on his thighs and crotch. As I gathered my wits together amidst the storm of incestuous pleasure, I raised my head and grinned wickedly at my husband. In a voice hoarse from screaming over being expertly fucked by our son, I gasped, "Did you cum because it excited you to watch me get fucked or because it was our son that was fucking me?"

John chuckled behind me as Paul fumbled for an answer. Finally, he shook his head and said almost too low to be heard, "I don't know." He stared at me with an odd expression. I could see the plainly disdainful frown he'd had so many times when I had begged him to be more open to bedroom play, struggling with what he'd just witnessed.

Before I could reply or ask him anything more, I had to moan as John slowly withdrew his still swollen cock from my battered pussy, evoking so much pleasure from my sensitive flesh; I just dropped my head to the mattress and whimpered with how sweet and right it felt. John reached out and taking me by the shoulders turned me around and guided my weak body to crawl upwards until we were cuddling naked against the headboard, our sweaty bodies bonding together, my thigh draped over his leg as I snuggled against him.

John and I stared down at Paul who was watching us with both disgust and envy. Finally, our son said, "Shame on you. This should be you, Dad, holding Mom in your arms and reveling in the wonderful sex you've just had. It should be you, Dad, but if you won't someone else will." John's voice deepened and he said sternly, "I will!"

I turned my head upwards to my son's face, his voice alone making me wet anew and kissed him, slipping my tongue into his mouth as I rested against him, our tongues languorously rolling over each other, allowing the kiss to roll on and on, pausing only to take a breath and say, "I love you," to each other while Paul glowered at us.

Finally, John looked at his father and said, "Watch your son and wife make out until you fall asleep and don't forget what you've learned, Dad. Remember how Mom should always be treated."

#

"CATHY!" Paul sat straight up in bed, his eyes wide in alarm. He was breathing heavily, his eyes wide with madness as he gazed around the room. It was Saturday morning, the sun streaming in through the windows so bright, I was able to read without the bedside light on. My husband was trembling as he stared at me and then slowly examined the room. He pulled the sleeves back on his pajamas and examined his unblemished wrists. His eyes lingered on the straight back chair parked in front of my vanity and then turned back to examine me.

I sat down the book I had been reading and said, "Paul? Are you okay...bad dreams?"

He reached out and pulled back the blankets, studying my bedclothes, a thin cotton gown with lace trim that while not exactly sexy wasn't quite hiding my better attributes. "Paul?" I asked again, reaching out to touch his hand.

Slowly, he nodded and said distantly, "Yeah...a bad, um, weird dream."

"Really," I asked, trying to sound concerned.

He nodded again and rubbed his jaw and then ran his fingers over his chin and lips that had been coated in my juices a few hours before. "Weird...weird dream." He looked around and asked, "What day is it?"

I laughed and said, "It's Saturday, honey." I glanced at the clock on the bedside table, "Almost nine o'clock."

Paul ran his hands over himself as if making sure he was all there. Then, rubbing his head and wincing a little, "Did I get drunk last night?"