Three Generations, One Bed

Author's Note - This is my first attempt at "keeping it all in the family". This is a stand-alone story. I hope you enjoy it. Feedback is very welcome.

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When I was eighteen, I began to look at my mother as a sex symbol. And now, I'm thinking I'd better do something about it.

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But first, you need to know about my family.

Mom is fifty. She had my sister Jen when she was only sixteen. She waited sixteen more years to have me, at thirty-two. Mom was quite the free spirit back then, I gather. Her parents helped Mom raise Jen. I'm told Jen's father died in Afghanistan when Jen was three.

I never knew my father. Fuck him. My mother told me the story many years ago when I began to ask questions about my background. The awful story is that when Jen was fifteen, Mom was attacked and raped in a downtown nightclub. Obviously Mom wasn't going to marry the jerk. She told me he died when I was very young.

So, yeah. That's me - the product of a violent, disgusting act.

Instead of relying on a father as a role model, I had a much older sister. Jen's very protective of me and extremely affectionate. We've always been super close. Inseparable, actually. Funny thing is, Jen still lives with us. At thirty-four, she's never married and seems entirely disinterested in men. Maybe she likes women, but I don't see any women in her life either. She hardly ever goes out, orders groceries online, and she works from home. She never goes on dates. I mean never.

She wears really dowdy clothes. Baggy shirts and sweats, she's always got her hair piled on top of her head. She has these ridiculously large glasses she wears on the rare occasions she goes out. That's kinda weird, because she doesn't wear them in the house, but she says she needs them for driving and for seeing long distances.

Maybe if Jen would make an effort, she could meet someone. But then, she doesn't seem to miss not having a mate. Besides if she did, that would take her away from the family. So can I be selfish and be glad she's kind of a dud in the looks department?

Although I do have to admit, Jen's got a really nice face. I love her smile too. Great big blue eyes. Hollow cheeks. OK sure, I guess she's kinda pretty. So why isn't she showing it?

Jen does seem to make a lot of money. My sister's always ordering stuff and having it delivered. Lots of expensive-looking packages. I never know what she's buying. I can't figure out where she puts it all. Sometimes I think she may be reselling it on eBay or Amazon.

When I was two, my mother married a man named Jeff. I have no memory of Jeff either. He had two daughters by a previous marriage - fraternal twins a year older than me. Fraternal means they aren't identical. Only a year into the marriage, he was murdered by his ex-wife while they were having a tryst in a seedy motel. The ex-wife went away for twenty-five to life, and my mother was stuck with the three-year-old twins. Jeff had enough money for us to live on for a while. Now Mom and Jen make really good money at their jobs. So we're not wanting for anything.

If you thought Mom would have trust issues with men, you'd be right. Raped as a young woman, and cheated on by her husband with his ex-wife, she has absolutely no reason to believe in love. Or men. That's why she hardly ever goes out either. That's my assumption, anyway.

Mom loves the twins dearly, even if they aren't hers by birth. Beth and Chrysta were beautiful, adorable little girls and Mom raised them as if they were her own. She showered them with love and gave them every advantage she never got.

Beth and Chrysta. A year older than me, my step sisters (along with Jen) are my favorite people in the world. We stick up for each other right to the end. No-one messes with Beth and Chrysta while I'm around. And more than a few guys have tried, believe me. You see, my sisters are fucking gorgeous. Five foot ten, athletic, beautiful. Beth is blessed with a spectacular set of knockers, while Chrysta had the best pair of legs in the whole school. Movie star faces too.

Not that I'm biased. But it's true.

There you have it. I live with my mom and my three older sisters. And my love for them just fills me up. I absolutely adore each of them.

But I am sad to say that the family is about to split up.

Yesterday I announced that I've decided to take a late offer from a college in Chicago. Now that I'm eighteen, I'm ready to start my next chapter. The news was an absolute shock to my mother and sisters. Mom and Jen kind of went comatose. Then they both started crying.

We all thought I was going to take a year off, but this college was my first choice and with my middling marks, it was a super long shot. So when this spot freed up, I decided I'd better jump on it.

Chrysta and Beth had both taken their year off, and now they're leaving home too. Chrysta's off to college in Florida. Beth just got an offer for a job that starts in August in California, doing marketing for a national brewery label. Marketing. I was pretty sure Beth's spectacular chest has something to do with her job-market success. She'll be in print and live media advertising. More power to her. She absolutely deserves it.

In three months, this household is going to be a lot quieter. Just Jen and Mom. They're more than bummed about it. Devastated, really. Our home being in upper New York State, all three kids will be pretty far away. Mom tried really hard to talk Chrysta and me into colleges in New York, but it just didn't work out.

Mom. I'm not ashamed to tell you: my Mom is a superstar.

First of all, she's very tall - just under six feet. Actually, that goes for the entire family. While I'm the tallest at six foot one, not one of the women in my family is under five nine.

At fifty, Mom is incredibly fit. She ran a marathon last year in just over three hours. She takes really good care of herself. She's very conscious of how she looks. There's a reason for that: her looks are her livelihood. I especially love her hair. She keeps it super healthy. It's really full and shiny; it hangs to her lower back in super-thick raven-black masses.

For a marathoner, she's got a really shapely body. Stunning actually. Sometimes I wonder if she got her boobs done, but I really don't know. I've always been afraid to ask. All I know is they are huge and spectacular. Which is unusual for someone with a twenty-two inch waist.

A lot of my high-school friends tell me she's hot. I have to admit it: she is. And when I actually started looking at her that way, I began to notice: my mom has a fantastic ass and absolutely spectacular legs. Long and lean, with muscles in all the right places.

A few months ago, a buddy of mine forwarded a link to a YouTube video. That's when I learned Mom models on YouTube. I'd had no idea. Mom is super private and she never mentioned it. When I clicked on the link, I found out why.

Specifically, she models lingerie with a special emphasis on stockings, garters, corsets, and shoes. She has her own channel and she gets 6 million views per vid. She had the fourth-floor attic converted to a studio. She's got professional lighting up there. Lots of soft comfortable furniture, a couple of hard chairs and even a bed, although I have no idea why she would need that in her studio. I guess she sleeps up there sometimes. Maybe she uses it for a sexy backdrop.

I started secretly watching her YouTube channel a few months ago when I became aware of this world she inhabits. I watched her model a pair of French silk stockings the other day. It was mesmerizing, the way she reverently opens the package, shows the viewer the cover so they know exactly what she's about to try on. She extracted the little envelope then pulled out the filmy things and held them up high so the viewer could get a good look at them. They were glossy, transparent, and so light they seemed to waft around in the air. She explained these were fully fashioned stockings from Cervin in France. She talked about the fine quality of the silk.

Then she slid her hand into the stocking and pulled the leg all the way up her arm, right to the shoulder, until her hand was in the foot of the stocking. I could see her polished red nails inside the stocking and somehow that looked really erotic. That was where I began to pay attention. I hated to admit it to myself, but Mom is fucking sexy.

Then.

Then she gathers up the stocking and puts her foot into it. She explained how to line it up so the back seam will be nice and straight the first time. She uses both hands to slide the silk all the way up her leg, right up to her garter belt. She explained that she's wearing a suspender belt with four "Y" garter straps per leg. The fasteners split into two. She put her foot on one of the hard chairs and fastened all eight little garters onto the stocking. Then she smoothed out her leg and tested the straightness of the seam, repeating the process for the other leg.

When she was all fastened into her stockings, Mom stepped into a pair of black patent-leather stiletto high heels. She turned her back to the camera, put her hands on her hips and looked back over her shoulder. Her long legs and her tight ass were fucking spectacular.

She talked about how sexy the stockings feel on your legs. She used a term I'll never forget. She described the Cervin silk stockings as sex on legs.

It was surreal, looking at my mother on YouTube in her stilettos, stockings, and a camisole. At one point, I realized I wasn't breathing. My mouth was dry.

Then she just floored me. She stepped into a black, skintight miniskirt, cut a good six inches above her knees. After she'd fastened it around her tiny waist, she turned this way and that to show off the stockings. Her legs were absolutely spectacular. She sat down and crossed them to show how the stockings look in every position. She said she loves the sexy feel of the garters pulling on the stockings as she sits. She had a little remote and zoomed the camera right into her legs.

Suddenly, my mom was the sexiest woman I've ever laid eyes on. With a growing horror, I realized that I had a boner. While looking at my mother.

Oh shit.

Last month she modeled a silk bustier with a dozen garters for each stocking. The video lasted twenty minutes. I had a boner inside of two. And so I thought, what the hell. I began stroking. There I was, lying in bed with my laptop sitting beside me and I'm jerking off while looking at my mother putting on all this sexy lingerie. When she faced the camera in her stockings and bustier and blew a kiss to the camera, I lost it. I blew my load right there.

I play that video a lot now. Last night I didn't make it to the kiss.

After discovering her on YouTube, I began to pay attention to Mom a lot more. I began to realize that she's a pretty interesting character. She has a real style. She goes out on dates occasionally, but she's never found the right guy, it seems.

Last Saturday night, I saw her on the way out the door. Holy Fuck! She was all in black. Sky-high glossy Louboutins, dark fully-fashioned stockings with the back seam, short satin skirt with a slit high enough to show just a hint of the tops of her stockings, and a really sexy skintight black long-sleeve sweater. Her raven hair flowed in thick masses to her waist. Her boobs were full and high.

Even her makeup was dark and smoky. I mean, wow!

Did I say it already?

Mom is fucking hot.

I told her so, too. She looked at me like I'd come from Mars. But then she just smiled and thanked me for the compliment.

I'll tell you a secret. I waited up for her that night. I really wanted to ogle her again.

When she got home, just after midnight, I was downstairs watching television. Beth and Chrysta were out partying, as usual. They're very popular, my older stepsisters. Not like Jen of course. She was upstairs. Gone to bed, I assumed.

Mom heard the TV and came down the stairs. The stairs have an open railing and I could see her legs before she could catch me looking. I wasn't disappointed either. Those long legs in her oil-shine stockings were really turning me on.

"Petey! I'm so glad you're still up." Did I mention that Mom and I are very close?

"Did you have a good time, Mom?"

Mom rolled her eyes and said "Put it this way. I'll be swiping that one left. I can't get a break."

I laughed. She's been looking at dating sites for a while now, but no luck. Still, she's looking so stunning right now, I didn't want her to go upstairs. I felt a stir in my pants and while Mom wasn't about to help me there, I did want to absorb more of her before I went to bed. I knew I'll be thinking about those legs when I stroke the rocket tonight.

"Sit down Mom." I patted the cushion beside me. Mentally, I threw good thoughts at her. Please, please, please, please.

"Sure, why not?" Mom said. "Got anything to drink down here?" She got a beer out of the fridge. Then she plopped herself down beside me.

Her skirt was really tight. So tight it rode up on her legs a lot. I mean a whole lot. She crossed her legs towards me and put her arm on the back of the cushion behind my head. The swish sound her nylon stockings made was hypnotic. She was showing me twelve inches of gorgeous thigh, clad in ultra sheer black silk stockings. I could feel the big guy begin to swell.

When I turned to Mom, she was looking at the TV and taking a swig directly from the bottle. Her lips were adorned with a brilliant, high-gloss red lipstick. She puckered her mouth around the narrow neck of the bottle as she drank. Her mouth worked the neck of the bottle as she swallowed. I watched her neck muscles swallow the liquid and it made me feel kind of warm and sexy. When she finished her swig, she lowered the bottle and looked at me. Her tongue slipped out of her mouth and she licked the beer and saliva from her full glossy lips.

Oh fuck. My dick was getting hard.

My cock, without a doubt, is a beauty. I measured it out at eight inches. So when I get a hard on, it's impossible to hide.

I snuggled close into her, under her arm. She scooted a little closer to me too. When she did, her jet-black hair fell over my shoulder. I wanted to steal another look at her legs, but something else caught my eye. Mom's massive tits were straining through the tight black sweater.

And they were heaving.

Startled, I looked up at her face. The tip of Mom's tongue was frozen between her lips. She was staring at the bulge in my pants. I mean, eyes wide, no-blink staring.

I took that as a license to stare at her legs. Before, I always thought I had to steal a glance here and there. I always figured it was rude to stare at a woman's legs. Now I couldn't take my eyes off of them.

She began to swing the upper leg. The back of her high heel bounced off the base of the couch in rapid succession. Clunk, clunk, clunk, clunk. She was nervous.

The motion made her upper thigh flex with each little swing. The back seam of her stockings swung in and out of view. The fabric of her dress began to work up her leg, so I got to see more and more of her thigh.

The more silky, glossy thigh I saw, the bigger my boner got. And my mom's chest heaved deeper and faster.

Whatever was going on, I was fully on board.

Girls at school don't dress like this. Oh there's some really hot girls, don't get me wrong. Tight jeans, tank tops. I love that stuff. Really sexy.

But what Mom wears is at a whole other level. She models this stuff on YouTube and 6 million people watch her every week.

And here I am, cuddling into her and staring at those legendary legs and her heaving chest.

I thought about what I should do next. I had to do something. I was so fucking hard.

I tore my eyes away from my mother's spectacular legs and looked up at her.

She was staring at me. I've never seen her look at me so intently. When she licked her lips and still hadn't said anything, I decided to swing for the fences. I did something that I've been wanting to do for a year now.

I put my near hand on her silk-clad thigh. Then I put my cheek on her shoulder and looked up at her.

Please Mom, please put your hand on my cock. Give it a squeeze. Please, please, please, please.

She was frozen in place. Her chest rose and fell. I was getting really turned on by now.

Say something, Mom. Say anything to make this OK.

I slid my hand up her thigh, just a little bit. Gave it a little squeeze.

My dick throbbed. I saw it move out of the corner of my eye.

Mom saw it too. Her eyes moved back down to my pants.

I hoped I knew what she was thinking. I was pretty sure she hadn't had sex in years. And I had absolutely no idea what I was doing in that department. I'm not a virgin, but when I broke my cherry, it was rushed. To say the least. I was, shall we say, premature at best. But I sure wanted to learn.

She could show me. That's what she does, right? On YouTube? She shows people how to do stuff? How to wear stuff?

Watching Mom has given me this fetish for nylon stockings and women's legs. I can't stop thinking about them. I've jacked off two, three times in a night just thinking about gorgeous legs in ultra sheer stockings and shiny leather high heeled shoes.

Trouble is, not once have I ever had an opportunity to put my hand on a woman's leg while she was wearing beautiful stockings.

Until now.

I moved my hand higher. I was obsessed with touching the garters holding my mom's stockings. That was my immediate goal.

"Petey," my mom said at last. It came out in a choked whisper.

I squeezed my mom's thigh and then began to caress it. Mom's breath quickened.

She flexed her hand. She has these long, slender fingers. They were perfectly manicured with a high-gloss crimson polish. Long, beautiful nails.

Her hand began to slide towards my erection.

Oh God yes. Yes, yes, yes.

I nuzzled into my mom's neck. I gave it a little kiss. She kind of swooned right there and then. A sharp intake of breath.

Then she uncrossed her legs and planted her feet apart on the floor.

I slid my hand up under her hemline and felt the tops of her stockings. I caressed the bare skin right next to her, to her, to her...yes, up to my mother's pussy.

There, I said it.

She turned towards me and put her sticky lips on my ear. She didn't exactly kiss me, but I felt her mouth pucker, just a little. The tip of her tongue wet my ear.

I tickled the fabric of her panties, right around her clit. She didn't stop me.

Mom's hand closed over the fat, hard bulge in my pants. She squeezed.

"Oh, oh," was all I could say.

"This is wrong, Pete. Wrong, wrong, wrong. No, no, no, no, no. We can't do this. This is not right. No, no, no." She pulled her hand away.

I pressed my thumb into her panties, right over her pussy, and swirled it around.

"Ohh," was all she could utter.

Her hand returned to my bulge. She danced her fingernails on the soft part of my cock. The orgasmic part.

I nuzzled further into her neck and kissed the soft spot at its base. She shivered and put her cheek on my head.

When she opened her legs a little more, I slithered my fingers under her panties and began to tickle her pussy with all my fingers. It was wet. She was soaking wet. Oh my Lilith, that could only mean one thing.

Mom was horny.

She released her grip and slid her hand inside my waistband. Those long, glorious fingers closed on my bare, throbbing dick.

Her breasts heaved faster and deeper. Her hot breath washed over me and her crimson lips closed on my ear with a more urgent sucking kiss.

She whispered into my ear. "This is all wrong, Petey. Oh my God, I'm so needy. It's been so long, so, so long. I never realized you were so big. So fat and long. It's been so long, so, soooo long."