Ray L. Couch

Naughty Nights At Home

Chapter 1

Valerie Martingale paced restlessly about her bedroom, puffing nervously on a cigarette. Steven, her tall, dark, handsome son was home for the summer from college, and she wasn't prepared for him. He was home a week early, catching her completely unsuspecting and off-guard to the extent that he had let himself in through the front door, and caught her walking through the living room stark naked.

Steve's seeing his mother's voluptuous, still firm and satin smooth body nude was no big thing, of course, because they all walked around naked a lot. This was a family habit established years ago. Valerie, her husband, Cleveland, their daughter, Beverly, and Steven, all strolled about the house in various stages of undress, up to and including complete nudity. But Valerie didn't like being caught unawares like this. She had just stepped out of the shower, where she had industriously finger-fucked her hot, gushing pussy almost to the point of orgasm. She had been heading for her bedroom to get her vibrator and finish the job when Steve walked in.

It was as though he could read her thoughts, divine her secret, lustful purpose. She had blushed to the roots of her hair, and squealed in panic and confusion as he grabbed her in his strong arms, lifting her all the way from the floor, and kissed her firmly, wetly, flush on her open mouth. Before setting her back down on her feet, he had smacked her fondly, playfully on her big, soft ass, and said, "Hi, love of my life, you look good enough to eat where's Bev?"

Beverly, her straight blonde hair flying, big Hue eyes sparkling with happiness, coral lips opened wide in joyful laughter, had come flying through the door from her own bedroom, screaming, "Steve Steve Steeeveyyyy! You're home early!"

In one flying leap, the beautiful young girl was in her brother's arms, hanging on to his neck with her legs flying as he spun her around; she further upset her mother by revealing that her fat, rosy-cheeked ass was completely naked. She pressed her firm sixteen-year-old breasts flat against his broad, muscular chest, kissed him repeatedly on the mouth, and continued to squeal, "Stevey, I'm so glad to see you so glad so glad! Are you alone did you bring anybody with you?"

"Yep, I'm alone," Steve had replied, giving her; ass the same treatment he had given his mother's before putting her down, only this time leaving his hand there to fondle and squeeze. "I had no finals to take, so I got out a week early. None of my buddies could make it come on upstairs and help me unpack."

And the two of them, arm-in-arm, each carrying a suitcase, ascended the long, winding staircase, seemingly having forgotten their mother's very existence. Looking up from below, Valerie could see all the way up Beverly's mini-skirt, and she could have sworn that the young girl's thickly haired, fat-lipped pussy was already shiny and wet, and visibly twitching.

Now, pacing the deeply carpeted floor of the master bedroom like a caged lioness, Valerie tried to calm herself down, remove the utterly ridiculous thoughts that spun about in her mind. She stopped before the full length mirror on the closet door and contemplated her face and figure.

At thirty-eight she was still beautiful, still desirable, as beautiful and desirable as she had ever been. Her golden blonde hair was vibrant, alive, cut in a fluffy light-reflecting halo to frame her lovely heart-shaped face. Her eyes were as big, blue, bright, with long, up-curling, dark brown lashes. Her nose was cute, saucy, turned up like Beverly's, with the added youthful allure of a splash of golden freckles across the bridge. Her full, pouting lips were a love poem of sex and sensuality.