My initial lethargy and dread began to ease during dinner –mainly because for once I was sat at the dinner table beside somebody that was vaguely interesting to talk to. Tom was young perhaps 20– not that that mattered – and despite the amount of alcohol that he consumed – managed to remain polite and engaging to converse with. The evening as such moved on quickly and before we knew it dinner was finished and we all retired to the bar. Now I never drink much anyway and as I was intending to drive home later, I was, as far as I could tell, the only one present still sober. It did not take long before the usual games began to be played – jousting on bicycles using brooms (usually clothed but I have seen it done naked), drinking from a chamber pot (a new one on me) and finally after about an hour a few of the guys suggested a raid on the Senior Ranks Mess (not an unusual occurrence).

            Before I knew it I was alone in the bar with Tom and five of his friends. I should have been wary but hey I was a soldier and could handle myself in these sorts of situations. I am also a doctor and although I do not consider myself to be the most beautiful of woman I had no shortage of suitors prior to getting married. The conversation, as the alcohol flowed, quickly went down hill. You know the sort of thing – innuendo at first and as more and more alcohol was consumed they became more and more graphic in an obvious attempt to embarrass me. Eventually having exhausted the usual attempts to get the better of me one of them asked if I was any good at examining people.

            “Of course it is part of my job,” I attempted to dismiss the remark as I had all the others..

            “How good?”

            “Sorry, what do you mean?”

            At this stage Tom tried to intervene but I was determined to sound the young 2lt down. I mean here was a 19 year old boy questioning my ability to exam patients.

            “Well if you say saw some part of somebody you had met but could not see their face would you be able to tell who they were?”

            “What? I’m a doctor why would I not be able to see their face?”

            “OK hypothetically speaking then could you?”

            “I don’t know...... I..”

            One of the other officers gave the young 2lt a friendly slap around the back of the head, “What he means to ask is could you tell us apart from some part of our anatomy?”

            I looked at the two of them. One was tall and skinny the other more muscular and laughed, “I could tell you two apart if that is what you are asking.”

            The alarm bells should have been ringing by then. I could see exactly where this was going but I don’t know perhaps it was their age, or my stubbornness but either way I was not going to let them get the better of me. If this is the game they wanted to play then so be it.

            “Ok what do you suggest then guys. Your feet? Your knees? Your chests? Your bums or your dicks?” I stared straight back at them, “Either way I will be able to see the rest of you even if you put buckets over your heads.”

            Behind me Tom smiled and gave them the thumbs up.

            The two of them left the bar and returned moments later with a pair of hat stands and a length of material. I watched intrigued as they positioned the stands and then hung the material out in between them. Across its surface were 6 holes at crotch height.

            I could not help but laugh.

            “It looks like you have played this game before?”

            They made no attempt to deny it and again I had seen worse in mess parties so thought nothing more about it. Besides I was only looking at something I would no doubt see at some point during my posting here in a medical exam.

            Above each hole was a number and the two of them duly disappeared behind the screen. Five seconds later two dicks poked their way through holes number 4 and 2. I decided to make a big play of the examination and got up from my seat to get a closer look. Both were flaccid – one cut the other foreskin in place. The cut one was thick and poked through the hole a good 3 inches (not bad I surmised) whilst the uncut one was longer and thinner.

            “Number 4 is the beanpole,” my reference to the tall skinny 2lt was spot on and earned me a polite round of applause.

            “Yeah well that was easy she only had two to look at!”

            I turned to face the guy in question. He was about my age – a captain if I recalled correctly and not bad looking.

            “Ok all of you then!! Unless you are scared.”

            They did not need any further invitation. Nobody to my knowledge in the army seems to need much of an excuse to strip so they were not about to refuse.

            Six dicks duly poked their way through the black sheet. It was rather surreal and I am sure even my husband would have seen the funny side of it – not that I would be telling him.

            The first two were easy. I recognised them. The following four were not too taxing either and I retired to my seat quite smugly.

            A few more beers were consumed and they convinced me to have a celebratory drink in light of my achievement. I had only had one drink before so duly obliged.

            “So that was too easy for you wasn’t it doc?”

            I shrugged and nodded, “I did tell you I was good.”

            “Ahhh but you could see. I bet you could not do it by touch blind-folded.”

            I tried to dismiss the comment casually, “Look guys I am married it is one thing to look and have a bit of fun but touching that is something else.”

            “Why? You do it when you exam us in medicals. All I am saying is that I reckon you cannot tell us apart by touch. It is no different from an examination only you are blind folded.” He saw my argument and answered before I could voice it, “You can even wear gloves. And” and it was this that convinced me, “if you get us all right we will pay your mess bill for a year and buy the case of port you owe the mess for your promotion.”

            He could see from my smile that he had won the argument and a raucous cheer erupted before they sprang into action. A blindfold was duly fetched and another of the men brought in a video camera. He saw my enquiring look, “So we cannot cheat,” he offered hopefully. I should have said no, but the beer was starting to affect me (I told you I never drunk much.) My knickers were also slightly damp. I have always fantasised about exhibiting myself and although I was keeping dressed the idea of touching 6 cocks whilst blindfolded had excited me a little bit. Their preparation complete, Tom brought over the blindfold.

            “Are you sure,” he asked. I nodded.

            “Sorry Sarah but can you answer for the tape, just in case somebody else walks in... you know what I mean?”

            I did. The army took a very dim view of sexual discrimination and bullying so I stated very clearly that I was a willing participant.

            Blindfolded Tom led me to the sheet.

            “The sheet is just in front of you.... the first hole to your left. I am going behind now.”

            I waited a few seconds until I felt the sheet move. I knew Tom was in position. I tried to remember how each one had looked and then tried to work out how it would feel. The thing with dicks is that well they feel kind of spongy and usually damp when flaccid and do nothing for me in an exam. I have seen and cupped thousands, but now as my hand reached forward I felt that stirring in my knickers again and I almost jumped when my hand touched the warm flesh. I pulled it away instinctively but not wanting to seem prudish forced it quickly back. My fingers closed on the flesh. It was soft and damp and I could smell the muskiness of it this close up. I felt my hand along its length trying to ascertain the size and girth. My right hand joining the left and cupping his balls. To my horror and fascination it was starting to grow. Now that might sound strange but I have never, not even my husbands (he is always hard), felt a cock grow in my hand. I should have pulled away and moved on to the next one or even better pulled the blindfold off and left but I couldn’t. It felt nice and I was getting turned on. And even better I heard myself say ...I have another 5 to go. I wondered if they would react the same way? Not wanting to seem too keen I reluctantly let it go but was eager immediately to feel the next one. Would it compare? I moved to my left and something hard brushed against my cheek. I pulled my head away and felt out with my hand. My god it was the cock I had just let go of. But it was enormous I could not see how close my head was to the sheet but I had to stretch my arm forward to touch it. Then I realised the bastard had taken a step forward just as I had moved along. I reached out with my right hand and found his head... I heard the groan......he was enjoying this.... I slide my hand down his shaft (I still cannot believe I did it) and back up to the tip. I heard him groan again ....”HMMMM that is nice.” I flicked the tip of his cock with my finger and he shot backwards cursing me. The others laughed. The next one also grew in my hand, shorter and thicker and this time when I moved I bent my head closer. The tip of it trickled past my nose and the aroma almost made my knees buckle.

            A warning siren was also now sounding in my head. I was married and yet here I was on my knees enjoying feeling 6 strange cocks and getting turned on by it. I was even now contemplating tasting one, just by accident of course as I moved past. I tried to pull myself together and professionally assess the third. I made a conscious effort to keep my touch brief and light and my head away as I moved. But it did not matter they already knew by my continuation after the first that I was as up for this as they were. The only question was how far it went? The cock hit me firmly on the forehead but I was already onto number four and it felt good. My resolve was melting like ice in a furnace. My knickers were saturated and I was relishing the touch of this one in my hand. It had already grown to its full length and my hands were still lingering over it, my head subconsciously drawing closer and closer to where I knew the tip to be. It smelled good. I slid my hand up and down the length. There were still 2 more to go but this was the one I wanted. My tongue sneaked its way past my teeth. What I didn’t know was that they were all watching. Once I had had the blindfold in place they had lowered the top of the sheet so they could all see. I heard the silence though and it made me stop. Surely the others should be waiting. I might expect one or two to sneak a look round but not those waiting and they should be carrying on as usual with their banter. And although I was annoyed by the thought that they were all watching me again strangely it also excited me. Who would know? But it is your professional reputation. You have to work here. Yes but things happen all the time. The arguments were valid. But the desire was strong. I had never given in to temptation before ....never. Surely I am allowed this one time and it will only be a small lick. I knew it wouldn’t be...if I crossed that line I would want more. How much more though?

            I pulled away and let it go.

            I had intended to pull the blindfold off, concede defeat and take the abuse. At least I would save my dignity and integrity. But my pussy ached. I was longing to touch myself ....to feel my wetness. I stayed where I was locked in indecision. Weighing up in my mind where I wanted this to go. I already knew what they wanted and although they had never voiced it, the fact they were still waiting in silence meant they were hoping I would continue. They seemed to know that if they pushed me now, at that precise second, then I would leave. I took a deep breathe in....the smell was like nectar to a bee. Would there ever be another opportunity? No I would not let there be. I made my mind up.

            I reached forward with my left hand and felt the next cock. It grew but I did not linger too long.....spending just enough time to feel girth length and balls and it was still growing when I let it go to reach for the next. This was the last one. I knew how far I was going to go but it was not with this one. A quick cursory inspection and I let it go. You could hear the groans as I reached for the blindfold. My hand cupped the bottom...

            “Ohhh come on that is not fair you spent far longer on him.”

            Their objections were raucous and I was enjoying it....I was back in control and I was enjoying the feeling. They were desperate for relief. They had obviously hoped for more and were now almost begging for me to resume. I moved my hand away from the blindfold and reached forward searching for the cock furthest to my left. It seemed to find my hand....no doubt guided there by its owner. My right hand found its neighbour just as quickly. Good I thought I have my bearings now. I gave them both a cursory tug and then moved to my right. Number four again guided into my hand. My left joined it and was met by complaints and a nice groan. This was the one I wanted........this was going to be my treat........by one temptation. I lowered my head towards it.

            By the hush that descended in the room I knew all eyes were on me. I licked my lips..... having made the decision I was going to make sure I enjoyed and savoured the moment. I had no way of really knowing whose cock it was without removing the blindfold and that was not going to happen any where near it, but I had my ideas. I think I would have hated to be wrong...another reason to keep it on. My tongue had snaked its way past my lips and my mouth was opening. I resisted the urge to reach down with my left hand towards my saturated swollen clitoris. Instead I massaged the meat in front of me, closing my fingers around and pushing my hands away from me and then it happened, whether it was closer than I thought or he had leant forward, I did not know, but all of a sudden the tip of it caressed my tongue.

            “I might have to book myself I full medical everyday.”

            The comment was met by loud laughter and I thought ‘Oh my god what have I just done.’ I pulled away.

            “Hey... Oh well done.”

            I was already standing up and half walking half stumbling my way away from them.

            “Come on Sarah,” Tom pleaded, “You can’t leave me like this it is cruel.”

But I did. I whipped off the blindfold, threw it to the floor, picked up my bag and without looking back, walked from the bar. I arrived at my car in a bit of a state; my mind was alive with what had just occurred. The excitement coursed through my veins making my breathing heavy. My pussy was screaming out for relief, ached to return, as my mind took the fantasy further. I slumped into the driver’s seat, my left hand rubbing my groin in frustration. It was no good though... Mess skirts were not designed for instant relief.. they were long and thick. I considered pulling it up to give my fingers access to my aching clit and I would have done if I had not seen Tom coming towards my car from the Mess.

I drove away...my eyes watching him as he stood in the drive. Twenty minutes later and I was home. It was 4 o’clock in the morning and my husband would be asleep. Worse he had to be up at 6 with the baby. But I was so turned on I needed relief. I hitched my skirt up in the car and slid my finger into my pussy. God that felt good but not good enough. I had never been so horny in my life. Normally I can satisfy myself when away from my husband but now I needed something bigger than my finger.

            I hurried inside my thoughts on the fruit bowl. Please let there be a banana in it. To my horror only apples. I ditched the skirt and ripped my knickers off before slumping down on the couch. Both hands rubbed and probed at my sopping wet pussy. It felt good but still not enough. Think girl. My mind ransacked the house whilst my fingers teased at my frustration. The freezer.........Oh please let there be sausages. I literally sprinted back into the kitchen. To my delight and frustration I found sausages but had to spend 5 minutes hacking at them with a knife just to free one.

            I returned to the couch with my treasure and legs wide apart slid it into my aching gaping hole. I had to bite down against the sheer sudden coldness of it at first. But then as I grew used to the chill I began to enjoy the sensation as I slid it in and out. My mind drifted off free now to explore the fantasy in safety. My mouth taking the entire length of his cock in my mouth whilst my hands tickled his balls.. I wanted them to watch as I slid my mouth up and down licking his full length. Five more cocks standing to attention and waiting to see if they would get the same treatment. My left hand moved to the left and grabbed the cock on that side. The sausage slid in faster and faster as my back arched. The mere thought in my head driving me over the edge and I had to bite down on my lip to stop myself from screaming out loud. My hands stopped as my body shock. My mind though had my left hand pulling my skirt up over my bottom. The invitation was evident and the knickers were pulled to the side.

            “Carousel”

            I had no idea if there was such a term but my fantasy reminded me of the word. It was my dream and I was in control and I wanted to taste and feel them all. I wanted them to move slowly around me one in my mouth one in my pussy. Two on either side awaiting their turn moving around and around like a carousel. In my mind as the sausage was abused once more it felt so good. The only thing missing something to fill my mouth but none the less as the first cock eased its way into my pussy I felt another body jangling ear splitting orgasm well up inside of me. By the time I had completed the carousel I was exhausted and the poor sausage resembled road kill.

            I put in for a posting the next week. I could not face the guys in the mess and knew I had compromised my reputation. I had to volunteer for active service to get away from there and my only regret was not taking the tape from the video camera. Something which 3 years later I wished I had.

I bent over, picked up the baggie, and sat on the end of the bed as the realization hit me that my son was smoking dope.  I opened the baggie and saw one rolled joint, some papers, and with a sniff, I confirmed about two ounces of fairly decent quality pot.  I knew this from my own experiences as a teenager.  But I also knew what I was doing, or maybe I just got lucky.

I found myself wishing my husband was as good a father as he was a provider.  A workaholic, he quickly moved up the corporate food chain to the position of regional director.  It meant his traveling over an eight state region checking on other stores.  In addition, when he was home, he rarely got home before 10 o’clock at night.  No, I knew I would have to take care of this, even if I didn’t want to.  I took the baggie and put it in drawer in my dresser and went about my household chores.

I actually got quiet a bit done with my mind preoccupied.  I tried to go through every possible thing that could come up from my talk with Keith.  Somewhere along the way, I found myself giving in to the thoughts that he wasn’t a bad kid, just like I wasn’t, and maybe if he was just careful, things would be all right.  However, I knew as a parent I couldn’t do that.  Maybe an older sibling could, like my sister did for me, but not his Mom.  No I would have to be firm with Keith and let him know that smoking pot was unacceptable.

I had some time before Keith got home from wrestling practice and took the opportunity for a quick shower.  Opening the drawer for clean underwear, I saw the baggie.  I opened it up and took a sniff.  I fished out the joint in the bag and checked my son’s rolling ability, if he was the one that actually did it.  It seemed satisfactory and without thinking, I placed it to my lips as I had so many times in my younger and wilder days.  I was caught by surprise when I heard the door close and Keith announcing his arrival. 

“I’ll be down in a bit, sweetie.  Just finishing up with a shower,” I hollered out the door.

I put the joint back, closed the bag, and exchanged it for a pair of silky panties and a matching bra.  I quickly dressed and went downstairs.  I found Keith with a jug of Gatorade watching TV in the family room. 

“How was practice?”

“Not too bad,” Keith replied while surfing through the channels.  “Is it okay if I go over to Steve’s later?”

“Well, actually I was hoping we could spend the evening together.  Maybe get something to eat and then back here to watch TV or something,” I suggested trying not to give away my hidden agenda.

“Sure,” my son replied with the utmost lack of enthusiasm.  “Do I need to change?”

I could see Keith’s hair was wet, so I knew he had taken a shower after practice.  The jeans he wore were not his best, but at least it wasn’t one of the pairs with holes he loves to wear.  The ones that I am sure make people think I don’t have enough money to properly dress my child.  A T-shirt with some popular logo on it clung to Keith’s upper torso.  The wrestling training was paying off in the body department for Keith.  He wasn’t overly muscular, but well toned and defined.  I actually began to wonder why they didn’t make guys that looked like that when I was in high school.

“No.  I think you look just fine.”

The meal was uneventfully normal.  Small talk about school and wrestling, and me trying desperately to figure out just how I was going to bring up the subject I really needed to.  The ride home was conversation free, with Keith selecting a radio station playing the latest in hip-hop (so the jingle said) and adjusting my car stereo so that it made the speakers actually vibrate with the songs.

It was about 7:30 when we got back to the house.  Keith slinked into the family room and popped on the TV and started going through the channels.  I fidgeted a bit and then sat down.

“Anything you want to see?”  Keith asked.

“No, not really,” I replied.

I got up and made my way to the living room where the bar is.  I poured a shot and downed it quickly, letting the burn wash over me.  I then sauntered up the stairs, opened the drawer, and withdrew the baggie.  Back down the stairs and another quick shot and I was back in the family room.

“Keith,” I said as I walked into the room.  “We need to talk about this,” I said holding up the baggie. 

Keith turned to look at me and focussed in on what I was holding.  He took it from my hands, almost as if to make himself believe that I had been holding it.  I took a seat on the chair to the side of the sofa he was sitting on.

“Want to tell me about that?”

“What do you want to know?” he asked back.

“I assume it is yours,” I asked and received a nod in reply.

“How long have you been doing this?”  I queried.

“A few months I guess.”

That would make sense.  About the same length of time that he had been buddy-buddy with Steven. 

“Why do you do it?”  I wanted to know.

“It just sort of takes the edge of, you know,” Keith explained looking up at me.  “No, you wouldn’t know.  I forget, you and Dad are perfect.”

The comment put me on the defensive.  I lost all track of my game plan to regain a sense of self that I hadn’t even lost.

“I know more than you give me credit for.  I know that isn’t the best weed I’ve ever smelt,” I retorted trying to show that I did know something.

“How do you know that?”  Keith asked.

“Well let’s just say I wasn’t always perfect,” I replied, apparently with the help of two large shots of whiskey.

“So you smoked pot before,” Keith asked with a sort of ‘I don’t believe it’ look on his face.

It was my turn to just nod in place of a spoken admission.

“So you know it’s no big deal, right?”

His words took me back to my own thoughts earlier in the day.  I knew what I was supposed to say; it just felt hypocritical at the moment.  But I was the parent.

“We’re not here to talk about me and my past, we’re here to talk about you and now.  And you here and now should not be smoking dope,” I said in my best lecture voice.

Keith didn’t miss a beat and replied as if I had said mostly nothing at all.  “So it was okay for you to take a toke or two, but not me, right?”

“That’s not the issue.  There is more to it,” I tried in a persuasive voice.

“Like?” my son asked.

“Like pot being a gateway drug, and doing it responsibly.”

“Did you go on to other drugs?”

“No,” I answered truthfully.

“So what made you so much more responsible than me?  Don’t you trust me?”

“It’s not a matter of trust.  I mean it is, but it isn’t.  It’s a matter of, well, guidance.  To have someone show you what is alright and what isn’t,” I explained to a blank stare.  “To keep you out of trouble.”

“So who guided you?”

Shit, this was not going like it was supposed to.  I never imagined that this would get turned around like it was.  And now, there was no way I was going to tell my son the things that his aunt and me used to do.

“Someone I trusted,” I finally answered.

“So it would be okay as long as I do it with someone I trust?”  Keith reasoned.

“Keith, as your mother, I have to tell you that smoking dope is wrong,” I lectured before looking at the floor and continuing.  “But I can’t watch you 24 hours of the day, so yes, if you are going to do it, make sure someone you trust is watching your back.”

“Cool.  I pick you,” Keith said with a sudden grin.

“What?”  I almost screamed.

“Who could be more responsible than you.  And who could I trust more?”

“But, Keith, smoking pot is wrong.  Besides it’s been years since I’ve done that,” I answered not sure I even believed what I was saying.

“But you want to.  I know you do,” Keith shot back.

“What makes you say that, oh wise one?”  I asked with a chuckle.

A smile spread over Keith’s face and he held up the baggie, “Your lipstick on this joint is a fair indicator.  Besides, I can see things too.  I’m not blind or stupid.  Maybe you just need to take the edge off too.”

Damn it.  How did he get to be so smart?  And they say smoking pot makes you dumb.  The bad part is he was right.  I had been so wound up that I guess the only person I had been fooling was myself.  I was going through a period of my life where everything was either stressful or depressing.  I watched as Keith stood up and made his way to the sliding glass door that led out to the deck.

“Come on Miss Responsible.  Time for you to take the edge off,” he said before walking out the door.

I sat for a couple of minutes to regroup.  Here I was, trying to be a good parent and teach my son about the evils of smoking pot.  Instead he turns the conversation on me to the point that I basically give him permission to do just that.  To make matters worse he looks right into my soul to see how miserable I really am.  Maybe if I just….     Ohhhh, that smell

My 15 year old son is on our deck smoking a joint right now.  I get up, planning to tell him to put it out, but stop as I reach the door.  Lynrd Skynrd said it best, ‘that smell will mystify you.’  For just the briefest of moments, I was a teenager again.  Confused, sacred and wanting so much that I couldn’t have.  Then I caught my reflection in the sliding glass door and remembered I wasn’t a teenager, I was an adult and a parent with responsibilities.

I strode out the door and walked quickly to where Keith was sitting, the joint in his hand.  I reached down and took it from him.  I was about to walk away and get rid of it when I looked over at him.  He had a not so sheepish grin on his face.  He looked…happy.  I looked down at the rolled weed in my hand and then back at my son.

“You know you want to,” was all he whispered.

Not only did I want to, I needed to.  I needed to know if I could rekindle some of those old feelings and sensations.  Without a second thought I brought the joint to my lips and took a small toke.  The smoke was fairly harsh as it burned into my lungs in a similar way the whiskey had my stomach.  I was glad I didn’t choke and just before I was ready to let it out, I handed it back to Keith, who was looking at me very wide eyed.  I turned quickly and walked back into the house, feeling the very first sign of a high.

“Mom, are you okay?”  Keith called after me.  I didn’t answer but returned to the deck in short order.

“Here,” I said handing him a bottle of cold beer, “Use this to chase it down.  Makes it not so bad in your throat,” I suggested, taking a drink from my own bottle.

Keith took a hit, held the smoke, passed the joint and I waited to see him exhale and take a drink from the bottle before doing the same myself.  In short order, we had gone through two joints and four beers and had moved from the deck to a couple of lounges beside the pool.

“So, young man.  Any love interests in your life?”  I asked while gazing at a sky full of stars.

“I’ve got lots of interests,” Keith said.  “Just seems they don’t have any interest in me.”

“Well trust me.  That will change in a year or so.  Then you won’t be able to keep them out of your pants,” I giggled.

“Mom!?!?”  Keith gasped in surprise.

“What’s the matter?  You think it’s just guys that think like that?”  I asked.

“Yeah.  Not that I know, but it seems girls just don’t look at it the same as guys.”

"Girls, and some guys, do look at it different.  Some don’t like it, for whatever reason, maybe bad experiences in the past or abuse, some put up with it like it is expected, and then some can’t get it out of their heads,” I tried to explain.

“So which one are you, Mom?”

“Depends.”

“On what?” he wanted to know.

“When?  Now or when I was younger?”

“Both,” he said with a grin you could hear in his voice.

“Well there is the difference between what you have and what you want.  That sort of sums up the now,” I told him.

“I don’t get it.”

I tried to put it into terms my young son could understand.  “Let’s say you want a Ferrari.  You want one real bad.  It’s all you think about.  Maybe you had the opportunity to drive one a few times, but it wasn’t yours to take for a drive anytime you wanted.  But what you did have was an old VW bug.  It’s an import, but not a sports car.  It’ll get you where you want to go, but maybe not in the way you would like to get there.  Understand?”

“Yeah.  I get it.  You’re buying me a Ferrari for my birthday,” Keith said with a laugh.  “No, I think I understand.”

“Trust me, you will fully understand after you bang your first Ferrari,” I told my son, suddenly feeling a bit flushed from the pot, booze and conversation.  “How ‘bout a swim?”

“Sure, let me go change,” Keith said.

“Change?  Who you going to be when you come back?”  I responded with a laugh.

I grabbed two more beers and rolled another smoke and was in the pool by the time Keith returned.  I know the alcohol and pot was having it’s usual effect on me and it didn’t help when Keith walked to the side of the pool in a swimsuit that I must have bought for him a year ago judging from how tight it was.

“Is that a big joint in your pocket or you just glad to see me,” I said before realizing the double meaning of my statement.  I could feel myself blushing slightly, but not enough to take my eyes of my maturing son.

“Funny,” Keith replied, “Which suit are you wearing?”

“I don’t think you’ve seen this one before, or at least I don’t think you have,” I replied.

“Really?  Show me.”

I took a deep breath and pulled myself out of the water.  The look on my son’s face was precious.  His mouth dropped open and his tongue almost fell out as he stared at his naked Mom.

“You like?”  I asked.

“You’re right,” stammered, “I haven’t seen that before.”

I enjoyed the fact that my son couldn’t take his eyes off of my body.  It turned me on regardless of the fact that it was wrong.  But how much wrong could I be?  I had already smoked pot with my son, what harm could a little more naughtiness be.  I dried myself off, picked up the joint, and lit it.  I stood next to Keith and passed it to him as I picked up a beer and tossed some of it back.  I waited until he had a lungful of smoke and his eyes full of my swaying boobs.

“You like them?”  I asked.  He held his smoke and nodded his head.

“Go ahead and touch them.  You know you want to,” I teased using the same line on my son that he had used earlier on me. 

Keith passed the joint and I thrust my 38DDs towards his eager, if not awkward hands.  As I held the smoke, Keith explored my tits with his hands.  It was an exciting touch, even if he didn’t know what he was doing. 

“I got an idea,” I told my son after blowing out the acrid smoke.  “Take a toke and while you hold it, put your lips over my nipple so you can suck and lick on it.  Then when you are ready to exhale, let me know.”

Keith didn’t speak, but took the bud from me and took a pull.  His mouth very quickly found a nipple and latched on.  What he lost in style was more than made up with his enthusiasm.  He sucked and licked until he finally had to exhale and lifted his head.

I held the back of his neck and brought his face to mine.  I placed my mouth to his and with my tongue parting his lips, sucked the smoke from him and into me.  At the same time, I let my tongue play with his and pulled him closer to me.  At 15, Keith was already taller than my 5”6” frame and his head tilted down to meet me.  As we kissed, I felt his hands begin to roam over my back to my ass.  I returned the opportunity until my hand found the front of his swimsuit.

I broke off the kiss and moved back slightly without moving my hand.

“My God, Keith.  What do you have in there?”  I asked as I palmed the bulge in his swimsuit.

“Why?  Is something wrong with it?” he asked with obvious concern.

“Oh, no.  I surely don’t think so.  But it sure seems like it wants to come out and play,” I replied while using my fingertips to trace the length of his hard shaft.  “Do you mind?”  I asked as I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his swimsuit.

Keith shook his head and for the first time, his eyes left my body as he watched what I was doing.  I had to be careful.  It was difficult to get the tight suit over what looked to be a promising find.  I ended up pulling the swimsuit away and placing my hand around his bare cock so I could slide the suit down without hurting my son.  Once clear I knelt down and moved the waistband down to his ankles.  This left me at eye level with my son’s raging cock.

“Is it okay?”  Keith asked, still concerned.

“Fuck yeah it is,” I replied.  “I bet the girls love this.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Keith replied quietly.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.  You mean to tell me you have this magnificent piece of manhood here and you haven’t used it to make some girl extremely happy,” I asked without looking up.

“No, never,” my suddenly shy son responded.  “You’re the first girl, ah, woman, to ever..”

“Not even a blow job?”  I asked curiously watching the clear drops of precum leaking out.

“No.”

I grasped my son’s hard cock and pumped it a few times until there was enough pre-cum that it would start to string soon.

“Care to find out how it is?”  I asked, throwing all caution into the wind.

“Huh?”  Keith responded.

I didn’t wait any longer for a yes or no answer from him.  His cock was doing all the talking and ‘it’ clearly wanted a blow job.  I let my tongue slip from my mouth and carefully licked at the salty fluid.  It was extremely satisfying to hear the groan from my son as he felt the first tongue on his young cock. 

I let my hand reach under and feel Keith’s heavy balls.  They were heavy and tight and obviously full of cum that wanted out very badly.  I knew better than to tease him too much and pursed my lips and let my son’s cock slide between my lips.  An almost painful groan escaped from his mouth as I worked my way down the shaft, letting my tongue dance as I felt his cock reach the back of my throat.  I could feel me starting to gag slightly and pulled back.

“Oh, shit,” Keith replied.

I worked my way back down his hard shaft and then back to the head where I licked, sucked and slurped like the wanton slut I was becoming for my son’s cock.  I looked up to see Keith looking down at me.  It made me wild with desire to make him cum, a task his balls felt up to performing in short order.

I kept my eyes glued on my son’s face as I let his cock fuck my mouth.  Like most men, and apparently by instinct, Keith’s hands soon found my head.  He didn’t guide me, but it was clear he had no intention of letting me stop until he was done.  I let a finger from the hand on his balls slip to the ‘taint’ spot between his ball sac and his asshole.  I gently rubbed to further stimulate his prostate.

Keith’s eyes got wide as he watched and spoke.  “Oh, shit Mom.  Mom I’m going to…to”

He didn’t know what words to use, but I knew what he wanted and needed.  I simply kept sucking up and down and nodded my encouragement at him.  Within seconds I felt his cock swell and his balls shrink in my hand. 

I moved my mouth to the head, went to work on the sensitive spot underneath, and used my other hand to stroke what wasn’t in my mouth.  With his hands on my head, I watched as Keith’s eyes shut and his head rolled back.  With a slight ‘oh, fuck’ escaping from his lips, he launched his first load of cum into my waiting mouth.

He shot hard and fast, with the first two strings going straight down my throat without the need for me to swallow.  I kept pumping and sucking and swallowing until his cock stopped spewing cum and only jerked from his rapid heartbeat.  I didn’t want to stop, but I could tell Keith was over-sensitive from my activities.  With a groan of my own, I finally let my son’s cock slip from my mouth.

I looked up to see Keith looking at me again, his face a cross between excitement and confusion.

“That was,” my son began to say.

“Fucking great,” I finished for him.

“Yeah.  But..” he trailed off.

“But what?”  I asked.  “Didn’t you like it?”

“Oh yeah, I loved it.  But isn’t it wrong for me to like it?  I mean from you?”

“Oh, I don’t know.  I would say no more wrong than for me to sit and smoke dope and drink beer with you,” I replied.

“So now what?”  Keith wanted to know.

I stood up and moved over to the table and picked up the papers and the baggie.

“Now it’s time for a couple of more firsts.  I hope you don’t mind if I smoke while you eat,” I said with a grin that only I understood at that moment.  "You do get the munchies after you smoke don't you?"