On the Beach Ch. 18

Meg and Ben share an intimate moment with their son and his lover. Later Mark and Muriel find time for just themselves.

Thanks to LarryInSeattle for editing.

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Ben and Mark look like a couple of freshman at their first school dance, trying to work up courage to ask a girl to dance. The two women glance at each other, roll their eyes in amusement, and step into the double shower. One of the shower heads gushes to life. Muriel steps in, tilts her head back and lets the water run over her face and hair. Water cascades over her breasts and then leaps into the air sparkling with exhilaration. She steps out and Meg takes her place. Muriel squirts liquid body wash onto a natural sponge body scrubber. The scent of rosemary and mint fills the steamy air. Meg shuts the water off, picks up a second sponge and adds a dollop of the body wash.

The women wash each other, truly. It may have seemed to the men as if they spent the entire time sudsing and fondling each other's breasts, truth be told they did spend a lot of time doing that, but they also bathed each other. The women set aside the sponges. They lean toward each other, and without using their hands, rub their soapy breasts together. They embrace, kiss, and finally turn the water back on and rinse. The men are just standing there, erections pointing, cockheads wet, looking fairly ridiculous.

"Are you boneheads gonna join us or stand there like Lot's wife?" Muriel asks, sounding exasperated.

Mark and his father shake themselves out of their stupor. They look at each other and step into the shower.

"Get wet," Meg orders. It's not clear if she's talking to her husband or her son, but they both step toward the water. Mark steps aside and nods for his father to go ahead. His father steps under the jet of water. He leans forward, back to the group and wets his head, his body. When the shower is free, Mark does the same.

"Turn toward me," Meg tells her husband. She has a sponge ready.

"You wash your father's back," Muriel tells Mark. He looks at her, hesitant. "Just do his back, sweetness. If that's all you feel like doing; that's just fine, fine as frog's hair." Mark takes the sponge, still looking unsure. He turns to his father.

His dad's back is tanned. Just a few days in the sun is all it takes for any of his family to tan. His eyes are drawn to the tan line above his dad's ass. He let his brother fuck him last night, why this hesitation? He recalls earlier in the week, when his dad touched him and he freaked out. Does he still feel that way? He does, a little. His dad's left arm is raised, resting on his mom's shoulder. She's washing his armpit. He hasn't gone gray yet. The thick mat of dark hair shines beneath the suds. Is he turned on by that? He shakes his head, not really. Muriel sees him shake his head. She sighs to herself and is reaching to take the sponge when Mark begins to soap his father's back.

He starts at the top of the shoulders, works his way across the broad shoulders and then down the sides. His mom works on the other armpit. His dad, who he thinks of as an "old guy" is still well defined. The ridges of his lats are firm beneath his fingers. Mark searches his feelings and finds only appreciation, not desire. He works lower, not hesitating when he reaches his ass. He soaps each cheek. His hand meets his mother's as he washes his crack. More out of politeness than desire, he teases his pucker with his fingertips. He squats and does his legs, front and back. He does the back by reaching through and around. As he reaches between his dad's legs, he feels the heavy balls on his arm. Just the tip of his hanging cock brushes his arm. He's done. His mom turns on the shower. His dad rinses off.

Mark holds the sponge out to Muriel as he turns. Behind him, his mother passes her sponge to his dad. Muriel is already soaping his chest when he feels the sponge in his father's hand touch his back. His attention flickers between Muriel's touch and his father's. He feels a sponge graze his nipples and a sponge on the back of his neck. He tips his head forward. Strong fingers replace the sponge and massage the tension out of his back. Sponge along his sides, hands cupping his balls, stroking his cock, fingers on his ass. Fingers caress his face. It's over. The water roars to life. Hands help him turn to and fro, rinsing him clean.

They towel off quickly, Mark looking dazed. They walk back into his parent's bedroom and stare at the king-size bed. It is Meg who speaks first.

"Sit down on the end of the bed, honey." She's looking at Mark. He points to his chest, not speaking. "Yes, honey, you," his mom assures him. He steps to the bed, turns and sits, hands on his thighs, his still hard cock jutting from between his legs. His mother crosses to the dresser. She is not a woman to live out of suitcase. She rummages in a drawer and comes back with an old tee shirt of his dad's. She grabs opposite ends and twirls it.

"I'm going to blindfold you," she informs her son as she places the tee shirt over his eyes. She fumbles behind his head, tying it in place. She lets the end of it hang over his face. "Too tight?" He shakes his head. "Good. Lie back in the bed." He does. "Scoot up in the bed. Make yourself comfortable. Relax." When he is settled, Meg looks at her husband, at Muriel and raises an eyebrow. She points to herself, then each of them in turn, mouthing "who's first?"

Muriel eases herself onto the bed and without using her hands, tilts her head and scoops her young lover's cock into her mouth. She deep throats it, loving the way Mark's abs and quads tense as she pulls her mouth back, teasing the undershaft with her tongue. She holds his cock straight up as the other two climb onto the bed. She deep throats him again. She holds him deep in her throat, hums, shakes her head, and wrings his cock with her hand as she withdraws. Meg is waiting to take her place. Muriel holds his cock steady as his mother deep throats him. She's not as smooth as Muriel but she doesn't gag. She holds him deep in her throat as long as she can. She's never mastered Muriel's trick of being able to breath with a cock stuffed in her throat.

She withdraws. The two women kiss each other above the young cock. They smile at each other, knowing what's next. They turn their heads in opposite directions, open their lips slightly and, starting at the base, slide their open mouths up either side of Mark's cock. He tenses and a soft moan causes the shirt over his face to flutter. They alternate. Meg slides her mouth down one side, as Muriel tongues under his foreskin, rimming his crown. Muriel then slides her mouth down one side as Meg slides up and takes her son's cock head in her mouth. They glance at Ben on occasion. He shakes his head. Watches.

After a time, the women sit back on their heels and look at each other. Meg points to her son's mouth, then his cock, and raises her eyebrows again. Muriel shrugs and Meg gives her the evil eye. Muriel stifles a laugh and holds out both hands. She points to her chest and mouths, "if I win I get his cock". Muriel nods. One. Two. Three. Muriel goes for 'rock'. Meg chooses 'paper'. Meg gloats. Muriel sticks her tongue out.

They shift positions. Muriel very carefully folds the end of the shirt open, keeping Mark's eyes covered, but exposing his mouth. He's lying very still. Meg straddles his thighs. She leans over and licks the underside of his cock, wraps her tits around them and titty-fucks her son. She wonders if he knows it's her or if he thinks it's Muriel? She loves the way the muscles in his thighs tighten and relax under her ass.

She moves forward, trapping her son's cock between her pussy lips. She moves past his cock, rubs her wet cunt on his belly, pushes back, and lets his cock ride up her ass crack. She sits up on her knees, grabs his cock, positions it, and lowers herself. Her ass rests on his knees. His cock swells inside her. It presses against her cervix, causing the most delicious ache to blossom in her guts. She rotates her hips, keeping his cock deep.

She watches as her lover throws one leg over her son's face. Muriel spreads her pussy with one hand and Meg glories in the sight of the wet lusciousness of the woman's cunt. She stills a moan, not giving a clue to her son, as his tongue darts forward, anxious for the nectar he knows hovers near. Muriel leans forward on her hands. Mark holds his tongue still and rigid as she drags her cunt up and down it but tilting her pelvis. Meg mimics the movement with her own hips. When Muriel finally lowers her pussy onto Mark's waiting mouth, Meg pulls herself up and off his cock. She rubs the head in circles over her clit, takes him back into her pussy, and grinds, lifts, rubs, grinds.

She watches her son's head move up and down as he alternatively thrusts his tongue into Muriel's cunt and flicks her clit with the tip of his tongue. Ben stands up and positions himself at his son's side. He turns his cock toward his wife. As she sits on their son's cock, grinding her pelvis she sucks her husband's cock. After a few moments, he pulls his cock free, swivels his hips toward Muriel. She grinds her cunt against his son's face as she sucks his cock.

Behind him, Meg begins to grind out her orgasm. She's bucking atop Mark's cock, her fingers dancing like dervishes over her swollen clit. She bites the heel of her hand when she cums.

She watches as her husband begins to thrust his cock into the tunnel of Muriel's hand and mouth. She drags herself off Mark, positions herself so she can watch Muriel suck his cock, while watching her son gorge himself on Muriel's pussy. She grabs her son's slick cock and begins to stroke it. At the same time, she pulls the foreskin forward with her lips as her tongue probes for the clear liquid gold trapped under it. Soon her son's thrusts match his father's though he cannot know it.

His ass rises from the bed. She sees his arm rise and then fall. Apparently, he doesn't want to know whether it's Muriel or his mother sucking his cock, something the feel of their hair would make clear. Instead, his fists knot the sheets and he cums.

She holds just the tip of his cock between her lips. She wants to feel every spurt hit the roof of her mouth, taste every drop, roll it around her mouth like a fine wine, and share it with Muriel or Ben and savor the feel of it sliding down her throat.

The way Muriel's thigh threatens to crush her son's skull she knows her friend is cumming. She pushes back on Mark's face, tilts her head back and opens her mouth. Meg rubs her tender clit as her husband gently strokes just the head of his cock, using a twisting motion. It rests on Muriel's outstretched tongue. He squeezes, controlling his ejaculation, painting three lines of white on her friend's pink tongue. Meg swallows her son's load and leans across him. Muriel meets her. A drop of cum falls onto Mark's belly and he tenses, then Muriel's tongue is in Meg's mouth. She sucks her husband's load off her friend's tongue before dropping her head and licking the errant drop out of Mark's belly button.

The three of them quickly hop off the bed.

The shirt flutters as Mark pants to catch his breath.

"Can I take this off?"

"Sure, honey," his mother tells him.

He pulls the tee shirt off his head. At the foot of the bed, his parents are kissing. His mom is fondling his dad's softening cock. He can see the slickness on his mother's hand. She pulls away. Holds her hand up, palm forward. His dad begins to lick her palm.

Muriel is hugging his mom from behind while rubbing her wet pussy against her ass. His mom's ass glistens.

He crawls to the end of the bed, sits on it. Pulls his mother towards him and begins to lick Muriel's pussy juice off her ass. He gropes between his parents, rubs his mother's wet cunt and then wraps his wet sticky finger's around his father's cock. He feels it grow soft in his hand as he leans against the three people he loves the most.

***

The sun is halfway to its high point before they begin to congregate by the pool. Mark is finishing off a bagel, piled high with cream cheese, holding it with one hand. With his other, he holds Muriel's hand. His parents trail behind them. Jim and Jill are already stretched out by the pool and they've already fallen asleep. Jim's cock hangs heavy over his belly. He snores softly. Muriel and Meg stretch out beside one other, not bothering to put the cushions back on the chairs. Mark and his father walk carefully into the pool, neither wishing to disturb the others by jumping in.

The water carries the relative chill of the night. It takes a moment for Mark to gather the courage to stretch out in the water and dunk his head. He thinks about all that's happened during the past few days, how it all seems to have started with him jerking off beside the pool. It's such a trivial thing that it's hard to credit all that's happened to it. He spies Muriel watching him. He smiles at her. She gives him a little toodleloo wave and smiles back. Whatever set this all in motion, his jerking off, Muriel seeing him, the others stripping and jumping in the pool, God, or just random fucking chance, he's grateful. He rests along the side of the pool, facing the others. Behind him the unending rumble of the surf rolls over him, soothing him. He loves that sound and at that moment realizes that he is not going back to Norfolk. He has no intention of crashing with Muriel. He knows he doesn't have the savings for a place on the beach but maybe he can find a studio, hell the corner of a garage will do, as long as it's close enough to hear the ocean.

"It calls to you, doesn't it? The ocean. It's as if some deep primal part of us knows that's where we're from. The sea," his father says, joining him along the side of the pool. Ben splays his arms out on the edge and lets his body float to the surface. Mark joins him. There arms overlap.

"Yeah, it does. Weird I was just thinking the same thing."

"And you were thinking, 'I should stay here' weren't you?"

"Christ, dad. What is with you guys? Are you all psychic or something?"

"No. I think the same thing every time we come here." He's quiet for a time. "We could have, you know. Stayed, I mean. Muriel offered to stake me, help me get started. Your mom could have gotten a teaching job. It's surprising but a lot of folks aren't interested in staying year round. You'd think the place would be awash in folks wanting to teach here but they it isn't so. She could've gotten a job without too much trouble."

"Why didn't you?"

"Afraid of being in Muriel's debt, maybe a little afraid your mom would come to enjoy her company more than mine. Pride. Insecurity. Bad combination."

"I suppose," Mark offers quietly.

"No supposing about it. Trust me." His father raises his head to look at him. "You know that wasn't a joke that first night, not totally. Muriel was planning to ask you about working for her. She made it clear she had other ideas, wanted our blessing so to speak, but she was serious about the job. She has more irons in the fire than she can handle. She needs someone who can help with advertising and organizing. She does well but up till now, it's been word of mouth. It's been a one-woman show. She needs help. You weren't a marketing major but you know media." His dad rests his head back. "Problem I see is either she'll feel funny asking now or you'll be afraid of looking like a kept man, or both. Pride and insecurity. It's not just for men you know."

Mark doesn't say anything for a long time. He sees the patio door in the basement open. His brother and Bill are about to join the party. Like everyone else, they're naked.

"What should I do? I do want to stay. I was thinking I could find a cheap place to hang while I found work."

"You said that you love her. Why find a cheap place?"

"Too soon, dad. I want to know I can make it on my own. I'm not interested in jumping from you and mom taking care of me to Muriel taking care of me."

"You should be taking care of each other."

"I know that. Jesus but that's different. Maybe in a year. Maybe in six months. I don't know, but not right now." Mark shakes his head. "I think that includes the job."

"Yup, sounds like it to me." His dad playfully smacks the back of Mark's head. "I don't disagree with you. For what it's worth, I think that's probably the right decision." Ben starts to leave the wall and turns. "But if you fuck it all up I'll deny I said that." He smiles when Mark flips him off. He lays on his back and lets his body sink beneath the water.

Owen and Bill round the pool and sit, letting their legs dangle in the water. Owen is sandwiched between the two brothers.

"I had the weirdest sense of déjà vu this morning," Bill tells him by way of saying hello. "You remember the other morning? It was so hot. You were awake and watching me jerk off."

"I was not watching you jerk off. You were watching me jerk off."

"No way! You are so full of shit. You pretended to be asleep. You were laying there with a boner. I jerked off and then came and stood by your bed, wondering if you were awake."

"Let's not quibble over who killed who..." Owen starts.

"Monty Python and the Search for the Holy Grail. Wedding scene." The two brothers crow in unison.

"Holy fuck, Bill. You can keep your incestuous eyes to yourself bitch. You've found a fucking separated-at-birth clone or something," Mark laughs, bumping Owen with one shoulder.

"You didn't seem to mind my incestuous dick in your ass big brother."

Mark's face grows serious. "No, no I didn't." He looks at his brother. "Thank you for that. I don't think I could have tried that with anyone else." Bill looks embarrassed and before he can say anything, Mark speaks. "I still think it makes me just a little gay."

"Oh fuck, no way. I'm not going through that again," Bill protests.

"What?" Owen asks, looking confused. "It makes him bi, at least, doesn't it?"

"No!" Bill cries and lies back on the pool deck. He jumps right back up. "Shit, that's fucking hot." He slides into the pool and stands beside Owen's dangling legs. "No, it does not. Totally straight dudes like having their prostate massaged."

"Yeah, maybe," Owen counters. "But totally straight dudes don't usual get it massaged by another dude's dick either."

"He has a point, Bill," Mark says with a nod. He shrugs. "Fine. I'm a teensy bit bi. I can live with that." He leans forward and cups his hands around his mouth. "Hey, Muriel, you mind if I'm a teensy bit bi?"

"No. And quit shouting. I'm old but not old enough to be deaf."

"You are not old. Don't say that." Mark's voice is hard. He's no longer joking.

Muriel gives him a puzzled look and rises from the cushion. She walks around the pool and holds out her hand. "Come on. Let's go inside, shall we?" Mark looks at her for a minute before climbing to his feet.

Six pairs of eyes follow them as they make their way to Muriel's house.

***

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you," Mark starts as he pulls the door closed behind them.

"Don't be silly, Mark. You didn't snap at me. For heaven's sake, you worry too much. Why don't you leave it open? It's not too warm yet and the breeze will feel nice."

He slides the patio door back open and the sheer panels billow inward.

"You okay if we lie on the rug? It's cooler out here than in the bedroom and the sound of the surf is less muffled, but even a shag rug can make a body," she smiles at her younger lover, "even a young body, stiff."

In answer, Mark tosses two pillows off the sofa onto the floor but instead of lying he sits, cross-legged on the floor. Muriel joins him. Their knees touch. Their clasped hands rest atop their knees.

"Hon, you're right. I'm not 'old' but I am 'older'. And I always will be. You'll only catch up after I'm dead and buried."