Gothamjack's Naughty Stories

[gothamjack]

Gothamjack here. Hopefully fellow refugees from the WWOEC Forum will remember me. I've been writing naughty stories for quite a few years now. I started out doing DC and TTBS stories, then shifted into ones featuring the Simpsons, American Dad, and Family Guy. I've written a lot of those. But don't worry, unless there's an overwhelming demand I'll only be posting a few of my most recent. Then, depending on the response, maybe some new stuff. Here's the first. It's a Simpson story. (For you Lisa fans, sorry, she's not in this one. Neither is Bart. Just some grown-ups.

Hope you enjoy it. - GJ

Petting Party
A Simpsons Story
by Gothamjack

Marge Simpson here. I’m just an ordinary housewife. I love my kids (most of the time) and my husband Homer (most of the time). So what was I doing on my neighbors’ couch with Ned Flanders’s hand on my pussy and his tongue in my mouth?

Here’s what. Homer and I were at Kirk and Luann Van Houten’ house, having dinner with them and Ned and his new wife Edna. After dinner, we all started reminiscing about our high school days.

Music, TV, classwork, and sports were all mentioned. Then Kirk said, “Anyone remember petting parties?”

We all did, thinking back to when we were just discovering how much fun the opposite sex could be.

“We called them make-out sessions,” Edna said. “Parents not home, music on the radio turned down low, the lights dimmed. Just kissing and feeling but it was fun.”

“Sometimes we’d swap,” Luann offered. “Someone would set a timer and when it went off we’d change partners. Sometimes we went off too, at least I would.”

I caught her and Homer trying not to look at each other. I knew why. One night at one of those parties …

They were making out on a couch in someone’s basement. Homer had his hand on Luann’s boob. She dropped her hand into his lap and on to a very big dick. She had to have it. “Fuck me, Homer,” she whispered in his ear.

“But the others,” he protested.

“Aren’t paying attention.”

Slowly and quietly she unzipped him. With some difficulty she got his meat from out of his pants. She was wearing a skirt.

“Push my panties aside and stick it in,” she said, lying back.

He did. She gasped as his big cock parted her folds.

It was over quickly. Luann came almost as soon as Homer entered her. After a few strokes he shot his load inside her. As far as they could tell, no one noticed.

How do I know this? I was at the same party, making out with Lenny Leonard. We were sitting close enough that I could see and hear everything. Lenny? He was too busy feeling me up to pay attention to anything else.

(By the way, feeling my boobs through my dress was as far as he ever got.)

I glanced over at Ned. From the look on his face he was lost in his own memories. His first wife Maude once told me why he was the way he was. He was the child of liberal parents, very liberal parents, who thought nothing of including their teenage son in their gatherings, letting him watch, having him join in.

The first time Ned came at the hands of another he had been pulled into a beanbag chair by a friend of his mother. She kissed him hard, shoving her tongue in his mouth. Then she unzipped him and jerked him off, licking his cum from her hand like it was icing. The brief encounter made Ned feel cheap and dirty and it wasn’t until he met Maude that he started enjoying sex again.

And from what Maude and later Edna told me in our “girl talk” sessions, Ned really enjoys sex and is quite good at it.

Feeling naughty, I surprised everyone, including myself, by asking,

“Luann, do you think you could lower the lights?”

There was a pause. No one objected so Luann walked over to the dimmer switch on the wall. On her way back she found a soft music channel on the radio.

“Should I set a timer,” Edna asked.

There it was. Should we? we all asked ourselves. I thought about kissing a strange man in front of Homer while he made out in front of me. Each of us feeling and getting felt. How far would we go?

It was Luann who said, “High school rules. Clothes stay on, nothing gets unzipped.” No one objected.

I was sitting on one end of the couch with Homer. Luann and Kirk on the other end. Ned and Edna (Nedna we sometimes called them. They hated that) were each in a chair. She got up and sat on his lap.

Okay, I thought as Homer took me in his arms, spouses first. Homer’s a great kisser. Closed mouths first, his lips against mine. Then a little more as I slipped him some tongue. He responded, his tongue in my mouth. I sucked on it just a little as his hand went under my dress. I moved a bit to let him feel my ass.

We made out like teenagers for ten minutes, Homer rubbing my ass and sometimes my boobs. Me rubbing his legs and sometimes his big cock through his pants. I was wondering whether to shift to let him feel how wet I was when …

Bing! Edna’s cell phone alarm went off.

What now, I wondered then Edna left Ned’s side. I took her place.

As Luann sat next to Homer I heard her whisper, “Remember the last time?”

I didn’t catch Homer’s reply because by then Ned had taken me in his arms.

Whatever he and Edna had done had him in a state. He kissed me hard, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth. I sucked on it. He liked that. I could tell because he held me tighter.

We parted and his hand found my boob. As he squeezed it gently I felt my nipples perk up. My bra and dress were thin enough that I’m sure Ned felt that too.

That’s all we did for a few minutes – kiss while Ned felt me up. Then I decided to get bolder. My hand dropped into Ned’s lap. His dick was hard and a nice size. As I rubbed it through his pants it got harder. Ned broke our kiss long enough to say “Feels good.”

Then it happened. He put his hand on my thigh, moved it up under my dress and cupped my pussy, squeezing it though my panties.

I flashbacked to another teenaged party.

Another dark basement. This time I’m on a couch in a dark corner with Carl Carlson. Our jeans are unsnapped and our hands in each other’s pants. He’s fingering my clit while I jerk him off. We come at almost the same time, me shaking and him spurting cum into my hand.

Ned’s hand moved slightly, to the bottom edge of my panties. “Nothing to unzip,” he said.

I got his meaning. “Go for it.”

His hand slid into my panties. His fingers slid into my wet hole. I sighed and started to rub his cock harder, right then wishing I could unzip him and stroke his bare dick.

Ned’s fingers in and out of me. I felt the tingle I get just before the big moment. I was getting closer and closer when …

Bing! That damn cell phone alarm went off before I did.

Ned and I part. We smiled at each other. “Close.”

“Very close,” he replied.

I went to Kirk as Luann took my place with Ned.

I was horny. We all were. I needed to come. We all did. I think if someone had shouted “Let’s fuck!” there would have been three dicks in three pussies and it wouldn’t have mattered who was married to who.

I’d never been all that attracted to Kirk but right then he had what I needed. I hiked up my dress, straddled his lap and put the wet part of panties down on the bulge in his pants.

“Make me come, Kirk,” I whispered in his ear. “I need to come.”

So did Kirk. Grabbing my ass cheeks he rocked me back and forth on his dick, thrusting up even as I pressed down

Kirk and I dry humped like desperate teens. Behind me I heard moans and sighs and then an “Oh Diddly!” Ned exploding in his pants. I hope those moans were Luann getting off.

My tingling was back and getting stronger. This was going to be a good one.

One of Kirk’s hands was still on my ass. The other was squeezing a boob. He was rough but it felt good. Through my dress and bra he pinched my nipple and that did it. I shook on Kirk’s lap as sex pleasure raced through my body. He must have liked my shaking because he whispered “God, Marge” then his hardness broke. When I sensed he was almost done I whispered back, “Almost as good as a real fuck.” I think that stiffened him enough for an extra squirt or two.

I was shifting position when I heard a “Ha!” followed by a “D’ooooh!” I turned in time to see Edna still rubbing the front of Homer’s pants while he pulled his hand from under her dress.

Then … Bing! The alarm went off again.

There was a pause then someone started laughing. We all joined in and us gals went back to our own husbands. Edna put her phone away saying “Guess I won’t need this anymore tonight.” Then with a collective sigh of enjoyment we stopped being teenagers and went back to being sort of respectable adults.

That is … until the next time, the time the lights went out. But that’s another story.

[67hawk]

Glad You Are Here

Gothamjack:

Love your work. Well written and with lots of twists and turns. Guess this will be your new home

[rogermaris9]

You bet I remember you. VERY well, and I saved a lot of your stories, including this one. Glad you made it here. Now if I can remember what folder I put them in.....

[gothamjack]

Thanks for the comments guys. Glad you liked the story. I'll be posting more shortly. GJ

[67hawk]

Thanks for the comments guys. Glad you liked the story. I'll be posting more shortly. GJ

Got all your stories. Looking forward to new ones.

[gothamjack]

New stories are on the way. I have to finish them first. Meanwhile, here's the follow-up to the first one. Hope you like it. GJ

The Night the Lights Went Out
A Simpsons story by Gothamjack

Marge’s Story
Marge Simpson here, and here’s what happened the night the lights went out.

It was the annual Springfield Gala, the one night of the year that all the adults got together for a good time away from the kids. The whole town attended, the Town Hall somehow holding everyone comfortably and to heck with the fire code.

Dinner was okay, just okay. We all agreed later that we wouldn’t let Moe cater these events anymore. Afterwards there was dancing. The unspoken rule at these galas was that you danced the first dance and the last with the one you came with and everyone else in between.

I’d danced with a few guys, mostly managing to keep them from getting too close and their hands off my ass. Ned Flanders was an exception. Him I let grind a little, enjoying the feel of his erection growing against my leg. His hand also squeezed my butt a few times. Which was only fair, I had squeezed his first. A few more dances with guys I hardly knew then just as a really slow dance started I heard,

“May I have this dance?”

It was Carl Carlson, one of Homer’s co-workers and drinking buddies. He and I had dated a few times in high school. Nothing serious, but once we made out in a dark corner of a dark room. He had a gentle touch and a stiff dick and we’d made each other come.

“Of course, Carl,” I said and he took me in his arms.

He held me close enough that my boobs pushed into his chest a little. I let him. His hand dipped down to the top curve of my ass. I let him. Then I moved in closer to feel his stiff cock press against me. He let me.

“Homer’s a lucky guy,” he said.

Feeling naughty I replied, “You got sort of lucky once.”

“Not as lucky as I’d hoped, but that was a nice night.”

That should have been it – two old friends and one pleasant memory. The dance should have ended and we should have found new partners. But then …

The music sped up. “Care for a twirl?” Carl asked.

“Why not?”

He spun me out and when he drew me back, he wound up in back of me, holding me close with his dick pressed between my ass cheeks. I gave him a friendly squeeze and was about to pull away when …

There was a “pop” and the lights flickered and went out.

In total darkness and needing human contact I did not pull away from Carl. Not even when his arms went around me, his one hand grabbing my inner thigh while his other found a breast. Enjoy the moment, I told myself, knowing that the emergency generator would kick in any minute.

Someone in the dark, I think it was Mayor Quimby, yelled out, “What happens in the dark stays in the dark.” We all laughed.

Carl continued to press against me. I could feel the heat of his cock through my dress. The hand on my thigh moved between my legs, cupping my pussy through my dress even as Carl’s other hand kneaded my boob. Again I told myself, Enjoy the moment.

The lights flickered – on and off, on and off, on and off. I caught strobe glimpses of the others – Ned kissing Cookie Kwan, my sister with Moe, Elizabeth Hoover holding Edna a little too close, Homer doing some serious fondling of Manjula.

There was another “pop” and the lights went out for good.

“There goes the generator,” Lenny Leonard called out.

“It’s up to the guys at the Power Plant now,” Carl said. “We’ll be in the dark for at least an hour.”

Still behind me, Carl started pulling my dress up. I wanted to protest but somehow I couldn’t. His hand on my bare thigh, moving upwards. When he felt my wet panties I moaned softly.

His hand on my shoulder, urging me down. Me on my hands and knees. Carl raised my dress, lowered my panties. He felt me from behind, two fingers going deep. In the dark I heard him unzip. He spread my legs a little. I spread them more.

The tip of his cock at my pussy hole. Carl pausing, giving me a chance to pull away. Me pushing back instead. His dick going inside me. Carl thrusting forward and for the first time I’m fucking a man who isn’t my husband.

Carl’s hands on my ass, his dick ramming in and out of me. It felt wrong, it felt good. It was wrong, it was good. “Fuck me! Fuck me hard!” I wanted to cry out but kept silent.

Around me I heard sounds that told me that Carl and I were not alone in our lust. Zippers going down, sighs and moans, slurping and slapping, flesh meeting flesh.

There were voices – an “Oh diddly” from Ned and a “Ha!” from Edna, both from separate areas of the hall. There were other cries of pleasure; I think one of them may have been Homer’s “D’oooh!”

All this added to the excitement of getting fucked in the dark. As Carl continued to thrust his dick in and out of my pussy I felt the tingle that told me that good times were coming. Warmth filled my body then became heat. Another thrust from Carl’s hard cock and I started to shake as sex pleasure raced through me. Carl grew bigger, tensed, then moaned as his cock pulsed and shot its cream inside me.

A second or two of that marvelous aftercome feeling, then Carl helped me to stand.

“What happens in the dark …” I said.

“Stays in the dark,” he finished, adding, “Not a word to anyone, I promise.”

“Just another happy memory,” I told him.

Moe’s Story
Okay, so I screwed up. I spent most of the gala listening to how the food wasn’t as good as last year. Geesh, you try somethin’ new. I guess I shouldn’t of added those exotic spices someone left on the bar.

And it looks like those spices were what caused what happened that night. I thought they would enhance the taste, not other things.

Anyway, I was dancing with one of Marge Simpson’s sisters, the one with the hair parted in the middle, when the lights went out.

Right away she grabbed my ass and pulled me into her. And there I was, smothering between two big boobs. Not a bad way to die, mind you.

I couldn’t see much where I was but later I was told that the lights went on and off a couple a times then out completely. That’s when Selma, I think it was Selma, threw me to the floor and got on top of me. Before I knew it, she had my pants open and down. Not that I objected, you know. Thanks to those spices “Little Moe” was ready. In fact, Little Moe wasn’t so little that night. He was bigger and harder than he’d ever been.

I don’t think Selma even took off her undies. Just pushed them aside to have her way with me. And what a way. For a fat chick, hell, for any chick she was dammed good. Her cooze was surprisingly tight and milked my johnson with muscles I’d only heard about.

I hadn’t had a woman on top of me since my phys ed teacher back in high school. I wanted to help, wanted to thrust up into the first pussy I’d had that year. But no go. There was Selma’s weight plus she held me down as she fucked me. I knew I’d be sore the next day but, hell, it was worth it.

She rode me hard, sliding up and down Little Moe like nobody’s business. Then I heard her too- many-cigarettes voice say somethin’ like “Oh, that’s good!” and she shook all over. The shaking was more than Little Moe was used to. I remember shouting out “Oh Geez!” as I pumped my cum into Marge’s sister.

And that was it. “Wham, bam, thank you, man” with me saying you’re welcome. Selma got off me quick. Hey, at least she got me off. Later I thought I heard her say “that’s good!” again as she no doubt found another partner.

Me, I just laid there, gathering my strength and enjoying a rare “just got laid” feeling. When I did try to get up, someone tripped over me and knocked me down again. I hit my head and don’t remember much after that, except when I woke up my pants were off and other than me the joint was empty.

Homer’s Story
I was dancing with Apu’s wife when the lights went out. Okay, I wasn’t really dancing, just holding her and moving around while I watched my so-called friend Carl paw my wife. I think there was something between them before we got married. I know they didn’t fuck. When we first did it Marge told me she was a virgin and from the way she winced when I stuck it in I believe her. But her and Carl did something. Not that I was an angel. Ask Luann Van Houten or Sarah Wiggum. (Sarah was a virgin too. Wonder if Clancy knows I once fucked his wife.)

To be honest, I wasn’t watching Marge and Carl all the time. Manjula had on this silky Indian dress or robe or something and the way parts of her moved when she did made me think that was all she had on.

So I was half watching Marge and half looking down at Manjula. Turns out Manjula is a little afraid of the dark. When the lights went out she jumped forward and I got a handful of boob.

I was right; she wasn’t wearing anything but her dress, at least not on top. And she had a nice boob – firm with a nipple that stiffened against my palm.

With a “Sorry” I moved my hand away. She surprised me by saying “Don’t be.” She put my hand back and pressed against me. I was stiff and when she felt me she pressed even closer.

That’s when the lights went on and off. I saw Skinner with his hand up Helen Lovejoy’s dress. I saw Lindsey Nagle with her hand up Willie’s kilt. And I saw Carl with one hand on Marge’s boob and the other between her legs. Marge didn’t seem to mind.

I guess that’s why I did what I did. When the lights went out for good I held Manjula tighter and kissed her hard, my tongue in her mouth. When she kissed back I grabbed her ass, one hand on each cheek. I thought we were done when she pulled away a little, but it was only to undo my pants and pull them down.

At that point I stopped thinking about Marge. I pulled Manjula’s dress up and felt bare ass. She gave a little jump as I lifted her up then dropped her right down on my hard dick.

“Fuck my cunt, Mr. Simpson,” she whispered as my cock slid into her pussy. “Fuck it hard, and finger bang my ass.”

Now braced against a wall, I did everything she asked, moving her up and down on my pole, my finger going deeper into her butt each time I dropped her down.

She shook once, whispering something like “Oh Rati!” She shook again when I stopped moving my dick and just finger-fucked her ass. When my cock popped out after her third shake she just slid down my body and swallowed my meat like a pro.

Manjula was good, almost as good as Marge. She took most of my dick in her mouth and played with what didn’t fit. She used her fingernails on my balls as she licked and sucked me. When I came she swallowed some of it and I think she took the rest on her face.

I usually get a little soft after the first time but not that night. Despite blasting a load I was still rock hard. I probably could have gone off and found some other willing partner but I wanted Manjula – a certain part of Manjula. So I slid down next to her. Without even asking I put her on her back, spread her legs and ploughed right in, fucking her hard on the ballroom floor.

“Fuck me hard, Mr. Simpson. Make me your whore,” she whispered as I played with her tits and slid my cock in and out of her pussy. She came, then came again and that’s when I made my move. I pulled out, raised her legs then rammed my dick into her tight, brown hole. She screamed out loud then and I remember wondering if Apu had heard the sound of his wife getting butt fucked.

“That’s it, defile me. Fuck my ass and come inside it.”

I did. She had a tight ass that I pounded for a good five minutes before my juices flowed and I let loose inside her.

We parted but stayed together. “Thank you, Mr. Simpson,” finding and kissing my cheek in the dark. “If you ever want to cheat on your wife I watch the store every Wednesday while Apu stays with the children. I could close the store and you could fuck me in the back room.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I did know that my dick started to get hard again. It got harder when she wrapped her hand around it.

“I have three fingers in my cunt imaging that we are in the back room of the store. You stick your cock in my cunt and then in my ass and we both come over and over again.”

I would have fucked her again but her hand felt so good stroking my pole that I just let her do that until I shot off what little I had left as she cried out herself. Then …

“If I could, Mr. Simpson, I would leave Apu and talk Marge into accepting me as your second wife.”

That’s when the Power Plant alert blew. I barely had time to find my pants and get them on before the lights came back on.

Edna’s Story
Despite what happened at a petting part a few months ago my husband Ned was still a little jealous – jealous of my past and the men, and some women, I had had sex with. To be honest, there were a lot of men – I was single gal, a cheap date, and an easy lay. So I danced with men Ned wouldn’t consider a threat – Frink and Smithers for example – but mostly I danced with women.

It was nice holding a woman in my arms again, even if it was only for a few minutes at a time. Patty Simpson was a great dancer and, except for a compliment or two, didn’t make any come-ons like a guy would do. Helen Lovejoy held me a little too close, so did Judge Harm. Guess both those rumors might be true.

I was slow dancing with Elizabeth Hoover – she was leading – when the lights went out. We stood there as they flickered on and off, catching glimpses of people taking advantage of the situation by taking advantage of each other, then they went out completely. Somebody – it was Carl Carlson, trust me, I know his voice in the dark – said that we’d be in the dark for an hour. That’s when Liz put her hand on my ass.

“Liz!” I said, not minding it but surprised.

“Tonight call me ‘Lez.’”

“I never knew.”

“Now you do.” She found my mouth and kissed me, her tongue swirling around my mouth like it was a more intimate part of my body.

Our breast mashed together as we held each other close. Liz pulled up my dress until she could get to my panties. These she pulled down to grab and caress my bare buns.

“Turn around and bend forward,” she whispered. When I did she found my wet spot and rammed two fingers deep inside.

Liz Hoover knew how to finger bang. With her fingers curled just right to hit my sweet spot, she held me with one hand as she slid her fingers in and out of my snatch, alternating slow and fast, hard and easy. She had me shaking in a few minutes, and coming in a few minutes more. And just when I thought my climax was over, she pulled out and stuck a wet finger in my ass. That got a few more shivers and a loud “Ha!” out of me.

With Liz helping I stood up, then turned. In the dark I heard her sucking my juice from a finger. When she was done she put the other to my lips and let me have a lick.

“You taste good,” she said, adding, “Now taste me.”

I slid down her body. Raising her dress, I pulled her panties down then off. Holding onto my shoulders for support, she spread her legs as I went between them.

Liz shaves. Her pussy was entirely bare. I hadn’t licked one of them since … well, before Maude married Ned. (Yeah, that’s right. Maude was curious and it was only the one time. Please don’t tell Ned.)

I grabbed Liz’s ass and dove into her pussy. It had a sweet taste and from my position below it my tongue was able to go deep. I swirled it the way she did my mouth. That got some moans from my co-worker. I got more moans when I licked her slit up to her lady bud and sucked it like it was a little cock. (And I’ve sucked a few little cocks. Just ask Seymour.)

As I was clit-licking, my fingers kept busy thrusting in and out of her wetter-by-the-minute pussy.

“More, harder,” she begged so I used a third then a fourth finger. That did it. Liz grabbed my shoulders tight, her cry of pleasure joining the others that were echoing in the hall. When she was done I stood. We kissed again, Liz licking herself from my lips. We parted. Later I think I heard her and Patty Simpson cry out together.

Standing in the dark I listened to the sounds of sex. I thought maybe I heard Ned’s “Oh Diddly.” I hoped so. I hoped he found someone.

I needed someone as well. Someone to screw. Someone to stick his hard dick into my wet snatch. I decided the first guy I found was going to get very lucky.

I got my wish. Right after making it someone bumped into me. “Oh, I’m very sorry. Please excuse me.”

There was only one man in Springfield who could be that polite in an orgy – Waylon Smithers. Close enough I thought, grabbing the front of his pants. He was probably the only guy in the place still wearing them. At least he was hard.

“Let’s do it, Smithers,” I whispered, starting to unzip him.

“But I never, at least not with a female.”

Oh boy, a virgin. I hadn’t had a virgin since Seymour. “Then it’s time you did,” I told Smithers. Yanking his pants down I forced him to the floor. He didn’t object much.

He was still hard when I mounted him, his surprisingly large dick going deep into my pussy. “Just think of Mr. Burns,” I said as I moved up and down on his big tool. With that he moaned and actually moved a little, thrusting up into me.

We both came fast, him shooting into a wet pussy for the first time and me coming as he did so. He stayed hard so I rode him, enjoying the feel of a big cock inside me.

(For the record, Ned is larger than average, no complaints there. Homer Simpson might have the biggest cock in Springfield. We’ve never fucked – dammit – but did make each other come once.)

Ned was now more into it, squeezing my ass as he rose up to meet my coming down. Speaking of coming, I came twice more, the last time when his finger tickled my back gate.

I was hoping to feel his hot juice squirt inside me again but after my third come he slowed, then stopped than said, “Not like this. I want …”

Given his nature and where his finger had been I said, “To fuck my ass?” I hoped not. That big thing would tear me a new one.

“No, the other.”

That I could do, willingly. I climbed off him and put my mouth where my snatch had been. The combination of cock and pussy juices didn’t taste bad as I managed to swallow about half of his rod. I stoked the rest of it while rubbing his balls. I only sucked for a few minutes before his tensed up. With a loudly whispered “Monty!” Waylon Smithers came in my mouth.

When he was finished we helped each stand. I wiped what cum had escaped my mouth with a finger and put it to his lips for a taste. He sucked it off eagerly. Then he said, “Thank you, er…” He didn’t know who I was. Good, I thought as I moved away from him in the dark.

Marge’s Story
There were still no lights when Carl and I finished fucking. We got separated then someone bumped into me.

“Sorry,” I heard, and recognized Ned Flanders’s voice.

Ned Flanders. My neighbor and another one of Homer’s friends. Ned and I had always had a kind of silent flirtation. I’d sunbathe in my yard when he was working in his. Sometimes I’d wear a one-piece, sometimes a bikini. If I was feeling naughty that day I’d undo the top and bake my back while Ned pretended not to look. Some days when I was outside Ned would come out in tight clothes that showed off his muscular body and I’d pretend not to look.

But nothing happened, nothing was said, not until the night of the petting party. We almost made each other come that night but time ran out and I made due with Kirk Van Houten while Kirk’s wife Luann got Ned off.

And now there we were, in the dark on a night when there were no rules.

“Ned,” was all I had to day before he took me in his arms and lowered me to the floor.

“Fuck me,” I whispered.

“I damn well diddly intend to.” Then he rammed his cock into my willing pussy.

Fucker by two men in one night, and neither was my husband. I felt like a slut. I was a slut and loved being one as Ned slammed his dick into me over and over again.

“Maude and Edna forgive me, I’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispered.

“Me, too,” I said. “Now shut up and fuck.”

There was nothing pretty about what we did that night. No great moves, no special techniques, just his meat in my cunt as we went at each like animals. I came first then he squirted inside me. I used my pussy muscles to keep him hard, then rolled him over so I was on top. I ground into him, thrusting my hips like I was the one with the cock. For a time he let me do it, then as I was getting close he started slapping my ass.

That did it for me. Pure pleasure raced through my body as Ned took over, holding my hips and ramming his cock into me from below, seeking his own climax. “Oh diddly!” he cried out as his cum shot up into me.

We parted and lay side by side in the dark. “Marge, that was …”

“Very nice, Ned,” I told him. “But it’s something we’ll never do again.” (Probably, I added silently to myself.)

Whatever he said to this was drowned out by the sound of the Power Plant’s alert siren. Then the lights came on.

There was clothing everywhere, mostly underwear – panties, boxers, jockeys, a few thongs and a stringy thing that had to hurt when worn. The people of Springfield – my friends, neighbors, fellow church members and some total strangers – just stood there in the now bright room. Most were at least partly clothed. Some were naked. A few were unconscious. No one said anything. In the quiet could be heard the hum of at least two vibrators. Then the voice of Krusty the Clown broke the silence.

“Hey, hey! Remember, what happened in the dark stays in the dark.” There was murmured assent as we found those we’d come in with.

I didn’t find my panties. I did find Homer. Neither of us said anything to the other as we left.

On the drive home I said, “Homer …”

He knew what I was going to say and interrupted me. “Marge … Margie. What happened tonight, what we did, who we did it with, that was in the dark. Let’s leave it there. Okay?”

“Okay, Homie. Let’s go home and go to bed.”

“Do you mean go to bed, or do you mean go to bed?”

“Let’s go to sleep tonight. Tomorrow, when we’re rested, we can snuggle.”

“Lights on or lights off.”

“Lights on, Homie. For the next several times, we’ll leave the lights on.”

And that’s what happened the night the lights went out.

The End

[67hawk]

Me Again

Nice one. To be tactful I got it already. However, for those who have never have read your stories before this is a good indication of the great stuff you write.

[gothamjack]

Nice one. To be tactful I got it already. However, for those who have never have read your stories before this is a good indication of the great stuff you write.

Yeah, I know it's a repeat of sorts. But as you figured out, my stories are new to some people. Also, some of the old WWOEC crew may not have gotten a chance to save them.

If that applies to anyone out there and there's a particular story of mine you'd like let me know. I'm not going to repeat the entire Simpsons DVD saga but only one shots - Family Guy, Simpson, American Dad, etc.

One more Simpson then a few of the others.

Thanks for takign the time to reply. GJ

[Victor2K]

Seems cool so far. Will read thoroughly later

[gothamjack]

Here's one more Simpsons story from my postings on the WWOEC. I based it on an episode. Hope you like it.

Lucky There’s a Blazing Guy

They are at Burning Ma … no, Blazing Guy. Not the camp ground Marge had planned for. Homer had screwed up again but he had gotten lucky – again. Bart had saved him – again.

But it was okay. The tea, the tea the Butterfly Lady had given her, that made it all okay. The tea made everything – different. Everything happy. Everything unreal and out of focus.

Homer had gone off chasing giant cupcakes. He came back in just a loincloth looking like Mr. Clean. Mmmm, Mr. Clean, Marge thought. She had always liked him – a tall, muscular man who liked things spotless and helped her keep them that way. At night, after Homer was asleep, on those nights when he was too tired or too drunk to snuggle, she’d imagine Mr. Clean in her bed, doing wonderful things to her with dishrags, sponges and both ends of a mop. With her fingers in her special spot, she’d bring herself to climax. The next morning after Homer went to work and the kids to school, Marge would go the kitchen, open his bottle and inhale his scent, the scent of Clean. Soon the kitchen would be spotless.

And now Homer, her Homie, was changing into Mr. Clean. Mr. Clean in a loincloth. Now was her chanced to give back to him all he had given her.

“Come here, Mr. Clean,” she says, taking his hand, leading him into her tent. “Come inside. I want you … inside my … tent. Hee, hee.”

“Marge, what’s gotten into you?”

“You, in a minute.”

Marge lifts the loincloth. Mr. Clean is already partly hard and getting harder. Marge kneels, takes him in her mouth. He grows. He’s as big as Homie, bigger maybe. She releases him, his cock tip dripping precum.

She lies back. Unzipping her shorts, she pulls them off along with her panties. Her legs spread wide. “Do it, Mr. Clean. Do me. Stick that big mop handle in my love bucket. Fuck me now before my husband gets back.”

Homer’s confused. He doesn’t know what Marge is talking about but she’s willing to have sex in the middle of the day in a more or less public place. “Okay,” he says and covers her. Marge’s legs spread wide, her pussy nice and wet. Homer’s cock goes deep on his first thrust.

For Marge a fantasy come true. Mr. Clean in her special place, her secret spot, finally fucking her. She comes almost at once, his big stick filling her up. She comes again when he starts moving inside her – in and out, in and out, harder and faster, harder and faster. Her legs wrap around him, he grabs her ass.

From the tent flap she hears, “Mom?” It’s Bart and his friend Milhouse. They’re watching her fuck Mr. Clean. Doesn’t matter, she doesn’t care. “Go away, boys, and don’t tell your father.”
The boys leave, both with the biggest erections they’ve ever had.

Mr. Clean has flipped her over. Marge is face down, ass up as he ploughs her from behind, his cock ramming her hard, his hands smacking her ass. How does he know she likes that? There’s a “D’ooohhh” and as she feels warm juices shooting inside her she comes again.

Marge collapses. Mr. Clean pulls free. “You should go,” she says, not turning around, “before my husband gets back.”

“But …” a still confused but now satisfied Homer says only to hear,

“Just go.” He does. Marge falls asleep.

II
Bart and Milhouse walking uncomfortably through the fair, having seen what cannot be forgotten. Both are still hard. Finally … “Bart, I gotta …”

“Yeah, Milhouse, me too. Meet you later.”

Bart knows his friend is going off to beat his meat, that Milhouse will probably think of Marge when he does. Bart’s thinking of her too. He’s heard his parents before, heard the bed creak, heard his Mom cry out words he shouldn’t think much less say. But now he’s seen it, seen his father’s thing going in and out of mother’s thing … his penis in her vagina … his dad’s cock in his mother’s … pussy.

Bart suddenly becomes aware there’s naked people all around him – naked girls, naked women. He wonders if Lisa is … and chases away that thought.

“Need some help?” someone behind him asks. Bart turns and there’s a topless chick in just jeans with a blanket around her shoulders but it’s not hiding her boobs.

“What?”

“I said it looks like you could use some help.” She looks at his bulging shorts. Before he can reply she steps up and wraps the blanket around them both, his face between her breasts.

Reaching down, she unzips him, reaches in, grabs him.

“But I …”

“Shhh, just relax and let Hayley take care of you.”

Her warm hand around his hard cock. She strokes him once, twice, the third time his legs go weak and she holds him up as he comes.

“Err, thanks,” Bart says after he recovers. He zips up. Hayley pulls the blanket away. “Er, can I do anything for you?”

“Pay it forward,” Hayley says and walked away, licking his cum from her hand.

Milhouse waits for Bart to walk away then heads back to the tent. He wonders if Bart’s parents are still doing it. The thought makes his aching cock throb harder. He wants to touch himself, knows that if he does he’ll shoot in his shorts. He’d done that once in school. Mrs. Krabappel had one too many buttons unbuttoned and when he touched himself he came and everyone laughed at the wet spot. Everybody except Krabappel who just smiled and gave him an A on his next test.

No sounds from the tent. Milhouse looks in. Mrs. Simpson, Bart and Lisa’s mom, is alone and asleep, face down with her pants off. Milhouse can see everything, her ass and her pussy. He’s still staring when she wakes up.

“Milhouse?” Marge says, seeing a hazy figure that looks like her son’s friend but is somehow taller and better looking. “You watched me fuck.”

Before the boy can answer Marge asks, “Did you like what you saw?” Realizing she’s naked from the waist down she adds, “Do you like what you see?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Milhouse doesn’t know what’s happening or going to happen but hopes that Bart or Mr. Simpson don’t come back any time soon.

“Fair’s fair,” a still mostly out of it because of the tea Marge says, “You’ve seen mine, show me yours.” From the lump in his pants Milhouse looks to have a big one.

“You want to see my penis?”

“Hell no, I want to see your cock. Whip it out.”

He wastes no time. His shorts and jockeys hit the floor and his erection springs up. Marge was right, he has a big one, almost man-sized.

Carnal heat rushes through Marge. She wants this boy, wants his cock. But wait, she thinks, I can’t cheat on Homie, then remembers she already has, with Mr. Clean. So it doesn’t matter.

Marge rolls on her back, spreads her legs. “Well?” she says to the surprised boy was wastes no time getting between her legs and sticking his cock inside her.

Milhouse comes at once. “Yes!” Marge moans and tightens around him even as he empties his boy cream into her. He stays hard and she flips them over. Now on top, she rides his thick, young cock that’s filling her up, rides it hard, rising up and dropping on his shaft, playing with her clit atop her boytoy. She feels his pulse, about to blow. A pussy squeeze stops that.

“No you don’t,” she says, “not yet.” She holds him down, pounds him with her pussy until she shivers in delight. As she finishes she climbs off him.

“Your turn,” she says, her hand around his cock. She jerks him until his pleasure geysers out of him.

“Go now,” Marge tells the boy when he’s finished, “And don’t …”

“I won’t say a word, to anyone, Mrs. Simpson.”

He leaves. Marge puts on her shorts and goes looking for a shower.

III
It’s a communal shower, men and women together washing their naked bodies. Some are washing each other’s naked bodies and it’s not always men and women. Sometimes it’s men and men or women and women. Sometimes it’s a group.

There’s a blonde woman and a muscular dark-haired man. She’s standing under the water, leaning forward, her hands against a wall. He’s behind her, holding her hips, thrusting his cock into her.

“Harder, Stan, harder. I’m almost …. Aaaaaaahhhh!” The man’s moans join those of the woman’s as he comes inside her.

As the couple finish the blonde straightens and turns. Seeing Marge watching she smiles then leads her mate away.

This is too much, Marge thinks as she strips off.

Where are my panties, she asks herself as she hangs her shorts, blouse and bra on a peg. The tea is wearing off and she’s getting the feeling that all is not right, but there’s enough left in her system that it’s not right in a good way. She steps under the flowing water.

“Room for one more?” It’s the butterfly woman, who’s naked but for her wings. Marge moves over, looks at the woman’s full breasts and trimmed bush. Her own is wild and untamed, the way both she and Homer like it.

“Did you enjoy the tea?” the woman asks.

“Very much, thank you,” Marge replies, although her memory is fuzzy on just how she enjoyed it.

“Would you like some more?” And without waiting for a reply the woman goes out and comes back with a thermos, which she and Marge share under the cleansing water.

“Do my back,” the woman says once the tea is gone. Marge scrubs the woman’s back even as warmth from the tea flows through her.

With no washcloth handy Marge rubs a soapy hand over the woman’s back, being careful of her wings. “Lower, please,” asks the woman. Marge’s hands on the woman’s lower back. “Lower still” and without thinking Marge’s is soaping the woman’s firm buttocks.

Without warning the woman turns, so suddenly that Marge finds her hand cupping the woman’s sex.

“Hmm, feels good,” the woman sighs.

Once again feeling the full effect of the tea, Marge agrees, and rubs the woman the way she likes Homer to rub her.

“A finger or two would be nice.”

Marge complies, for the first time sliding her fingers inside another woman’s pussy. It’s wet and tight and feels slightly different than her own.

Her own hands on Marge’s shoulders, her fluttering wings splashing water over everything and everyone, the butterfly woman humps Marge’s hand, driving her fingers in and out of her needy pussy. “Oh Rao yes!” she calls out as she comes over Marge’s hand. Without breaking contact, she kisses Marge hard on the lips, her tongue forcing its way into Marge’s mouth.

“Thank you,” she says to Marge when they finally separate.

“Thank you for the tea,” Marge replies.

“Can I do … anything for you?”

Marge shakes her head. “I’m good” and right then she was.

The woman smiles, shakes the water off her wings and leaves. A few more minutes under the water Marge decides to leave as well. She goes to her clothes, finds her bra missing. So with just shirt and shorts clinging to her wet body, Marge goes back to her tent.

IV
Marge is dry now but despite having a change of underwear she decides to go without. She likes how the rough fabric rubs her nipples and the naughty feeling of not wearing panties. This is so unlike me, she thinks then realizes it’s the tea. She coasts on the feeling and watches the world go by, a word that right now looks like a Betty Boop cartoon drawn by a drunken Salvador Dali.

Suddenly a storm and she’s covered in sand. Homer to the rescue – twice. (The first time he saved a sand sculpture Milhouse had made of her.) Her hero. Despite his faults – and he had many – he was really a good guy. Good guys need to be rewarded.

Safe in her husband’s arms Marge says, “Fuck me, Homie.”

“But Maggie’s awake.”

“Maggie’s just a baby. Besides, tee hee, she has to learn sometimes. Now are you going to fuck me or do I have to go out and find someone who will? There are lots of men out there, you know. Would you like that, Homie? Would you like to watch me get fucked by lots of men? I would you know, for you. For you I’d let them all fuck me in every hole I have. Then you could fuck all the women.”

Marge is crazy talking again, Homer thinks. She’s been doing that all weekend. Oh well …

Homer lays Marge on their sleeping bag, then unsnaps her shorts and pulls them off. He’s surprised to find she’s not wearing panties.

“Where …”

“I fingered the butterfly lady’s pussy.”

More crazy talk but the thought of Marge with a woman makes Homer even harder. He lifts her shirt to reveal her braless breasts.

“No panties, no bra. Marge, this isn’t like you.”

“I know, it’s the tea. Now fuck me before it wears off.”

He does, driving his rock hard cock into her needy pussy.

“Oh yes, Homie, yes!” Marge cries out as his thick meat fills her up.

It’s never been this good, Marge thinks. It’s like Homie’s snuggler is filling my whole body.

It’s never been this good, Homer thinks. Marge’s pussy feels like it’s on fire.

They climax as one. Homer shooting his cream deep inside Marge as she shakes in pleasure. They don’t stop. Homer stays hard as they roll on their side. Homer grabbing Marge’s ass so he can thrust harder. Marge throwing her leg over his to give him better access. Homer’s finger finds Marge’s back hole, slips in. She normally doesn’t like ass play, today she welcomes it.

“Deeper,” she whispers and there’s a new sensation as her ass is penetrated up to Homer’s knuckle.

“Mom, this is Steve. We just met and I … Oh my!”

Lisa stands amazed at the sight of her parents’ rutting. The way they’re lying she can see it all, her father’s penis going in and out of her mother’s vagina. His finger deep in her rectum. She hurries Steve out of the tent, not failing to notice the huge bulge in his pants.

Not even aware they’d been seen, Homer and Marge are building toward another climax. She’s on her back now, Homer on top of her, holding her down as he fucks her hard. She shivers in orgasm, Homer slows to ride it out, speeding up when it’s almost over and driving Marge straight into another one, shaking so hard that Homer slips out.

Seeking his own satisfaction, he thrusts forward just as Marge’s hips rise up. He misses her pussy, finds her other hole, her back hole, where he’s never been. The head slips in.

“Homie,” Marge moans, “that’s my …”

“I know,” Homer says, and pushed forward, fucking his wife’s ass for the first time.

It hurts as her Homie’s big tool fills her ass. But her lust and the tea combine and Marge decides it’s a good kind of hurt and she spreads and pulls her legs up in surrender. One thrust, two, a third and Homer’s hot cum fills her up.

They part. Silence then …

“Margie, I …”

“It’s okay, Homer. It felt … well, it wasn’t unpleasant. Maybe one day if you get me drunk enough we can do that again. Now we need to go wash.”

Movement in a dark corner of the tent. Milhouse? Marge wonders. Mr. Clean?

“You go ahead, Homie. Wash good, especially Mr. Plough. Tee Hee. I’ll just rest here for a while. And if you see the bird lady, ask her about my bra. Or you can just ask her to take hers off. She’s got nice tits, tee hee.”

After a satisfied but still confused Homer leaves the tent, Marge says, “You can come out now.”

Bart emerges from the shadows. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to watch. But I was in here and then you and Homer started up and I wanted to leave but I couldn’t stop watching and I …”

“It’s okay, Bart. I’m sure you’re the not the first boy to watch his parents fuck.”

Did Mom just say “fuck?” Bart asks himself.

Did I just say “fuck” to my son? Marge asks herself then decides that after what he’s seen the word doesn’t matter.

With the tea and the sex and everything else Marge is still somewhat out of reality. What happened next, she later decided, was not really her fault.

“Did you enjoy it?” she asked her son. “Did you enjoy watching your mom and dad fuck?”

Bart nods, suddenly realizing that his mother has made no move to get dressed. That her shirt is still bunched up over her tits and he can see her pussy, still open and swollen from sex with Homer.

“I can tell,” Marge says and Bart realizes that she’s looking at his shorts, at the bulge in his shorts. “Come here,” she says and when he does she unzips him, pulls down his sorts and reveals his stiff boycock.

“Nice,” she says, stroking it gently. “Now don’t ever tell anyone about this,” and she leans over and takes her son’s dick in her mouth.

Bart explodes almost at once, filling his mother’s mouth with his cum. Marge swallows and keeps sucking, keeps him hard. Her tongue swirls around his shaft, her teeth tease his head, her hand plays with his sack. Then a wet, steady suction until his blows his second load down her throat.

Marge swallows again, then pulls up her son’s shorts. “Feel better now?”

“Hell yeah, thanks Mom.”

“Don’t mention, Bart. And I mean that; don’t ever mention it, not even to me. Now get out there and have fun. Some more fun I should say.”

Bart leaves, Marge lies down, finds a blanket and drifts off to sleep, her dreams less strange than what’s happened so far that weekend.

V
An embarrassed Lisa leads her new friend away from the tent. “Sorry about that,” she says.

“Don’t be,” Steve says. “These things happen. Was that the first time you’ve walked in on your folks?”

Lisa nods, then “Have you ever …”

“A few times. In fact ….”

Steve looks to his right where a blonde woman and a muscular dark-haired man are making love in the open. She’s riding him, her boobs bouncing up and down as he squeezes her ass.

“… that’s them over there.”

Lisa finds the sight of a couple other than her parents making love highly erotic. She feels her panties getting wet. Stealing a downward glance at Steve she sees that the bulge in his pants has gotten bigger.

“It excites you, watching your parents?”

Steve nods. “Watching my mom, yeah. Look at her, she’s beautiful and sexy.”

“A MILF?”

Steve blushes and admits, “Yeah, I probably would if she’d let me.”

Lisa’s gotten wetter. Her nipples have hardened and are rubbing against the bandeau she’s wearing under her shirt. She surprises herself and Steve by asking “Is there some place we could go? Your tent, maybe?”

Steve shakes his head. “My sister Hayley’s probably in there with a couple of guys. But about right here? It’s not like anyone will care or even notice.”

Stepping close, Steve embraces her, hugs her tight, his hardness pressing through her shorts into her crotch. Fighting a wave of desire Lisa almost yields but then notices a spot where three tents come together, forming a kind of semi-private alcove. She gently pushes Steve away and says, “How about over there?”

Once they’re there – “I’m a virgin,” Lisa says as Steve’s hands go under her shirt to caress her breasts through her bandeau bra.

“I … understand,” he says. “I’ll be gentle.”

“You don’t understand. Er, you can pull that down.” He pulls down the bandeau, starts playing with her nipples. “Umm, feels good. Like I said, I’m a virgin and plan on staying a virgin. But we can still have fun.” She rubs the outside of his pants, feels the size of him. Almost as big as Bart, definitely smaller than Milhouse.

On the ground now, their pants unzipped, their hands caressing each other. Steve plays with Lisa’s clit, she rubs his shaft, thumbs its head. He dares a finger just inside her, she gently squeezes his balls.

“Take off your pants,” she says.

“I thought we weren’t going to …”

“We‘re not. Just your pants. Leave your whites on.”

Steve in his jockeys, Lisa in her panties. She mounts him, her wetness against his hard rod. She moves on top of him and grinds against him, like she does with Bart, like she did once with Milhouse. She feels him in her slit, rubs harder. His hands now on her ass, squeezing her cheeks, like his dad did to her mom. Is his thinking about his mom? Lisa doesn’t care because just then carnal pleasure races through her and as she shakes in pleasure she feels his hardness break.

The stand, they dress. Then the awkward moment after sex. They smile at each other. “See you later?” Lisa asks.

“I hope so,” Steve replies.

As they part, feeling naughty Lisa says, “Good luck with your mom.”

Steve blushes. Maybe he was thinking of her, Lisa decides. She thinks of her and her dad together and shudders at the idea. No way, she tells herself.

VI
The last day of the festival. Bart’s nemesis has been destroyed, along with the Blazing Guy. After its collapse, people keep trying to set it aflame, with very little luck. Finally, a muscular dark haired man, after borrowing several ordinary items from the crowd, gets the fire started.

The crowd cheers, the dark haired man goes back to his wife and kids. “My MacGyver,” his blonde wife says.

“Fuck MacGyver.”

“I did.”

“I know, I watched you.”

Several people throw various herbs on the burning remnants of the Blazing Man. Smoke from the fire covers the crowd.

“Oh, Homie!” Marge says, “I feel so …” and begins to strip off her clothes.

“Yeah, me too,” Homer takes off what little he’s wearing and begins to fondle Marge’s breasts.

“Me three.” It’s the Butterfly Lady, who is also naked except for the wings she’s reclaimed from Homer. She embraces the couple, kisses Marge then Homer, then reaches down to play with their asses.

Homer looks at Marge. The smoke has combined with the tea in her system and she’s in another state of being, where everything is permitted and nothing is real. She smiles and nods, then takes one of the Butterfly Lady’s boobs in her hand as Homer plays with the other one. The three slowly lower themselves to the ground.

Elsewhere in the crowd Lisa has finished playing her sax and is casually making out with two of the musicians. She sees Bart and Milhouse, smiles and walks over to them.

“Lis, are you okay?” Bart asks. He asks because her shirt is off and bandeau is around her waist. She’s topless in public, her nipples are erect and, thanks to the smoke and a brownie someone gave her, she doesn’t care.

“Couldn’t feel better, Bart.” She’s aware that her brother and his friend are looking at her youthful tits. They’ve seen them before. Her hands reach out, grabs each boy’s crotch. “Actually, now I’m feeling better. Get them off, boys. Let’s have some fun.”

She looks around as they strip. She sees what she thinks are her parents with another woman. She turns, sees Steve. He’s with his parents and a woman who’s probably his sister. His mom is naked, he’s on top of her, obviously fulfilling his MILF fantasy. His father’s lying next to them, his sister riding him.

Milhouse is behind her now, his big cock pressing into her ass crack. Bart’s in front, one hand playing with her tits. The other unsnaps her shorts. From behind Milhouse pulls them and her panties down.

Lis is naked between two naked boys, each with a demanding erection. There’s no stopping them, she realizes. She doesn’t care. Bart’s finger is inside her, pushing on the door of her virginity.

“Make me come,” she demands and they do. Milhouse humping the valley of her ass cheeks as he plays with her boobs from behind. Bart teasing her clit, first with his fingers then with the tip of his cock.

“Lisa,” Milhouse whispers in her ear, “you know we’re going to …”

“Fuck me, I know. Bart first, then you. You can both fuck me.” She shivers in delight and anticipation. The three lower themselves to the ground.

She’s lying partly on Milhouse, his huge cock, the cock that will soon be inside her, just inches from her face. Bart spreads her legs.

“Be gentle, big brother.”

“Sure thing, Sis.”

His cock at her opening, the head just inside. He pushes forward, meets resistance. Another push, more forceful. Bart breaks through, his cock burying itself in his sister’s cunny.

There’s pain, but not what Lisa imagined. The pleasure of her brother’s dick moving in and out of her outweighs it. Again she shakes in pleasure, enjoying the feel of her brother inside her.

“Lisa, I’m gonna …”

“Come inside me, Bart.” He does and she feels the warmth of male pleasure for the first time.

Bart pulls out, Milhouse takes his place. He’s longer and thicker than Bart, filling Lisa up and stretching her out.

“I don’t think I can hold back,” he tells her.

“You don’t have to,” she says. “Just fuck me.”

Milhouse is rougher than Bart, his big cock pounding her tight pussy. Lisa likes it. Another climax as Milhouse moans and comes, his cream mixing with Bart’s.

“Oh yes!” Marge shouts out in pleasure. She’s had her pussy eaten before, but never by a woman. The Butterfly Lady seems to know all her secret spots and spends time with each one. She’s come twice and is heading for a third orgasm. It hits her as the Butterfly Lady licks her clit while ramming two fingers in her cunny and one up her ass. Sated, she lets Homer pull the lady away from her.

He’s already fucked her once, Marge watching while Homer spread the lady’s legs and put his cock to her. Then she did more than watch, and played with the woman’s tits while Homer thrust in and out. The woman came, then Homer did. That’s when the Butterfly Lady started eating her out.

Now Homer, Homie, her Homie, was fucking the Butterfly Lady from behind .The woman’s boobs were swinging, her wings were flapping, and she was crying out in delight.

“Mom?” It was Lisa and the boys. They were naked and smiling and there was blood and cum on Lisa’s legs and the boys’ cocks. Marge shrugged and gathered her children to her. As Bart and Lisa each played with one of her boobs and Milhouse rubbed her leg, they watched Homer finish with the Butterfly Lady, coming inside her with a loud “D’ooohhh!”

That quick it’s over. As people get dressed and tents came down, Marge has the sensation of being alone on an empty plain. That feeling passes and soon she, her family and Milhouse are driving back to Springfield.

“What’s in the Thermos?” Bart asks when they are almost home.

“Oh, just some tea,” Marge replies.

THE END

[67hawk]

Good One

I remember the story and the episode it is based on.

[UberTag]

Hope more people get exposure to that excellent Blazing Guy fic based off Season 26's Blazed and Confused episode now that it's up here as well. It's still a great read and the American Dad crossover is pretty inspired.

[gothamjack]

So few people take the time to reply so when you do it's very much appreciated. It's the only "payment" we get. So thank you very much for doing so. By the way, if any artists out there want to draw anything based on my stories you are more than welcome to do so.

And speaking of American Dad, I did two stories based on episodes from last season. Here's the first of them. GJ

What Happened Next – Morning Mimosa

The argument between Steve and Francine Smith over dinner time vs. video games started to go bad when Steve said, “I never asked you to cook for me” and got worse when he shouted “Fuck you!” at his mother.

After that there was no turning back, no reconciliation – not as far as Francine was concerned. She refused to do anything for her son – cook, clean, do his laundry. In desperation, Steve learned to do for himself and turned to out to be a very good cook. So good that the videos he made as “The Orphan Chef” went viral and he was invited to the top daytime show, “My Morning Mimosa.”

Meanwhile, feeling her son, her little boy, slip away from her, Francine followed Steve to the studio. When the cast turned on Steve, Francine stepped in to save him. After mother and son reconciled, they had to escape an angry crowd bent on their destruction.

“Follow the monkeys to freedom,” Francine shouted as she and Steve took the catwalks and scaffolding above the stage. When Steve was about to fall, Francine saved him again. With a “Don’t worry, Momma’s got you” she wrapped her legs around him and then, with Steve’s arms around her neck and his legs around her waist, she carried him to safety.

They crash-landed on the news desk, Francine on top of Steve who was still wrapped around his mother. The impact mashed Francine’s ample breasts against her son. The feel of his mother’s boobs resulted in a not so unusual reaction in the teenaged boy. As Francine carried her boy away, she felt his erection press against her.

Not bad, she thought as she jumped off the desk, he takes after Stan.

To better escape the surviving members of the furious audience – not to mention studio security – Francine hiked up her dress for more leg room. This, of course, caused Steve's stiff boyhood to press into her panties. Enjoying the feeling, Francine shifted so that his hardness rubbed the damp spot growing between her legs, their run out of the studio causing one to rub against the other.

With her son’s face buried in her boobs, her hands on his ass and his cock stimulating her, Francine hurried to her car. It was wrong, she knew, to be turned on by her son. Francine sped home, trying to think of how to get her husband Stan into their bed and Steve out of the house. But by the feel of her son, all she probably had to do was send him to his room where he’d spend the rest of day going through lotion and tissues.

However, when mother and son arrived home it was to an empty house. No Roger, no Hayley – and no Stan. (Francine later learned that Stan had been arrested for public indecency – twice. He had escaped the first time.) What was she to do? As worked up as Francine was, fingers and a toy just wasn’t going to do it for her.

Then she remembered that there was a horny young man in the house who really needed to show his mother how much he loved her. No, Francine, she said to herself, that’s wrong. But then she realized that she’d done many wrong things in her life, so what was one more. And it’s not really wrong if you don’t get caught, is it?

Francine called out to her son. “Steve, get down here now!” she said in her best “mom” voice.

There was a strained “Yes, Ma’am” and soon Steve came down the stairs, the bulge in his pants telling Francine what she had probably interrupted.

“Sit,” she said, patting a space on the couch next to her. He did. “We have to … talk.”

“What about?”

“About what you said to me. What was it again?”

“Mom, I’ve said I’m sor …”

“Never mind what you said. What did you say?”

Surprisingly, Steve understood this. Still, he tried a dodge. “Er, that I never asked you to cook for me?”

“No, the other thing. You’ve said it once, say it again.”

Steve hesitated, then, “Fuck you,” he whispered.

“Say it again. I didn’t hear you.”

“Fuck you,” he said in a normal tone.

“A little louder, please.”

“Fuck you,” he sort of shouted.

Francine then smiled and asked, “Would you like to?”

There was a confused look on Steve’s face as he asked, “Like to what?”

“Fuck me.” Reaching out, Francine rubbed the bulge in Steve’s pants. “Feels like you do.” Quickly, not giving herself or her son time to think, she unbuckled, unzipped, and pulled down Steve’s pants. His jockey’s came next, his erection springing up.

Just like his father, Francine thought as she fell backwards, pulling her son on top of her. “Fuck me, Steve. I need a cock in my cunt.”

The boy was unsure what to do, so Francine reached down and took hold of his dick. Pulling her panties aside, she guided him into her wetness.

She came almost at once, shaking in pleasure on feeling her son inside her. As her body shook in climax, Steve moaned and emptied into her.

Mother and son, now lovers, laid together after their brief but intense encounter, Steve still mostly hard inside her.

Stan would be softening by now, she thought as Steve asked,

“Mommy, what did we just do?”

“We fucked. And in a minute or so we’re going to fuck again. Now pull out.”

Steve did, his still-stiff cock slick with cum and mom juice. “Lose the pants,” Francine told him as she peeled off her panties. Spreading her legs for her son, she said, “Take a good look, Steve.” She knew what he was seeing – her wide open pussy, his cum leaking from its widened hole. “You like what you see, son? It’s your momma’s cunt. The cunt you just fucked. The cunt you’re going to fuck again.” Before Steve could pounce she added, “Now lay back and let momma ride you.”

Climbing on top of her son, Francine lowered herself on to his stiff pole. So good, she thought, so wrong and so good. She began to move – up and down, up and down, up and down, feeling Steve’s cock slide in and out of her needy snatch. Steve started to move with her, arching his hips to meet her downward thrusts.

“Mommy,” he whispered, his hands grabbing her ass.

“Stay hard, son, Momma’s almost there.”

A few minutes more – her son’s hot cock sliding in and out, throbbing inside her, filling her up –Francine felt her own heat rush through her.

“Yes!” she cried out and she came on top of her son, her orgasm seeming to last forever but over all too soon.

Steve would have come too but for her pussy clamping tight around him. Francine sensed her son’s need, knew he needed release, but she needed one more thing.

She laid forward, covering him, then somehow flipped them over so Steve was on top.

“How did you …”

“Your Momma’s been on lots of couches, Steve. Haven’t fallen off since I was fourteen. Now fuck me. Fuck me hard.”

On top of his mother once again, Steve started thrusting into her.

“Say it,” she demanded. He knew what she meant, what she wanted.

“Fuck you.”

“Again.”

“Fuck you.”

“Again.”

“Fuck you, Mommy.”

“Yes, fuck me, Son.”

Her son on top of her, repeating his mantra of “Fuck you, Mommy” as his cock withdrew almost to the tip then rammed back into her, Steve seeking his own pleasure now, taking her as far too many men had. But Steve was special. He was her son and now his cock was throbbing and he was crying out “Mommy, I love you!”

Francine came again, sharing her son’s orgasm as he spurted his love inside her.

Then it was over. Steve lay on top of her, his hand on her right breast, squeezing it gently.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Feeling your boob.”

“I’m your mother, you shouldn’t feel my boobs.”

“Fuck you, Mom.”

“You just did. And if you make me some pancakes maybe I’ll let you do it again.”


The End

[gothamjack]

Okay, I guess there aren't that many, if any, American Dad fans on this forum. Time for some mostly new stuff. Part of this story was posted during the last Lisa Fest on WWOEC. Hope you like it. If you do, please let me know.

Inappropriate Behavior

On the Couch
All her housework was done – the dishes, the cleaning, the laundry, the shopping. Maggie was asleep. Now for a little me time, thought Marge Simpson. Soon she was on the couch, the DVD in the player, a glass of wine on the end table, her panties off and her special toy close at hand.

The couple on the screen had started off being very aware of the camera but now they were into it. She had gone down on him, getting him hard and ready and stopping just short of making him come. Now it was his turn. He was eating her out and the camera had just panned up to her face. Marge had two fingers in her pussy. Then …

“Mom!”

Dammit! What’s Bart doing home? Being a mother, Marge was used to doing several things at once. Hand out, dress down, TV off, hide the toy. Maybe he’s too young and doesn’t realize. A quick glance showed a bulge in his shorts. He’s old enough and he knows.

“Bart, I …”

Her son smiled and shrugged. “It’s okay. I guess even moms get urges.”

Marge blushed. “Yes, we do.”

“Is everything okay with you and Homer?”

Sweet boy, he sounds worried. “Everything’s fine, Bart. It’s just that sometimes I need some alone time. You understand?”

Bart sighed. “I sure do. At my age I need a lot of alone time.”

Marge checked. Bart’s bulge was still there. Bart saw her checking him out as she asked, “How often do you need to be ‘alone?’”

“Almost every day.” Another shrug. “I’m a growing boy.”

“And from the looks of things you’ve grown to a nice size.” It was Bart’s turn to blush when he realized to what his mother was referring. “I guess you could use some ‘alone’ time right now?”

Bart nodded, amazed and aroused that not only had he caught his mother playing with herself but that they were actually talking about jerking off. “I guess so. I’ll go up to my room and leave you to …”

As he walked past the couch Bart saw two things – his mother’s panties on the floor and the frozen image on the TV screen.

“Is that Milhouse’s mom?”

Damn, Marge thought, I hit pause instead of off. She reached for the remote but Bart got to it first. He hit play. The movie resumed.

Luann Van Houten’s face contorted in pleasure as she came with a low moan. The camera zoomed out to show her husband Kirk licking her as she came. When she was almost finished, he covered and slammed into her, his cock going deep. Luann shuddered and moaned again as Kirk fucked her with long, steady strokes.

“Aye Carumba!” Thoughts flooded Bart’s mind – Milhouse’s folks are doing it. Where did Mom get this? Do she and Homer have one? Damn they’re really doing it! Damn, Luann’s hot! She’s a milf.

With Bart fascinated by the sexual images on the screen, Marge had no problem taking the remote from his hand. As she hit stop she noticed that his bulge was even bigger and seemed about to burst his shorts.

“I think you need to take care of that,” she said.

Bart looked at his mother in surprise. “Hell, I don’t mind if you don’t.” Off came his shirt, shorts and jockeys. Naked, he started stroking himself right on the couch.

Marge’s cry of “No that’s not what I meant” died in her throat when she saw the size of her son’s erection. He certainly takes after Homer, she thought. There was something innocently erotic about her excited, naked son masturbating just a foot away from her. Unconsciously her hand went under her dress. One finger, then two slipped inside her wet pussy. With an “Oh my!” she began to move them in and out.

Bart turned at his mother’s sigh. Mom’s doing it. The realization caused him to rub his pole a little harder. Mother and son looked at each other. Bart smiled. Marge shrugged and said, “I don’t mind if you don’t.” Raising a hand to caress her breast, Marge frigged herself faster.

“Oh my!” Marge sighed as the two fingers inside her caused a small shiver of pleasure to run through her. Soon, she thought as she watched her son.

With one hand rubbing his cock and the other holding his balls Bart too was close. He watched his mother. Her one hand was squeezing a boob while the other … Bart couldn’t see anything but he knew that her other hand was playing with her pussy. Almost there, he thought.

Marge looked at her naked son, his cock thick and about to burst. She imagined lying back and spreading her legs for him. What would he feel like inside me? Another shiver of pleasure. I’m going to climax in front of my son. That thought alone was enough to push Marge over the edge. Her orgasm hit and her only thought was how good it felt.

Watching his mom come did it for Bart. He shuddered as his cream spurted over his chest, his cry of “Ayyyeee” joining his mother’s “Mmmmmm!”

Then it was over. Mother and son enjoyed their aftercome for a few minutes then Marge handed Bart some tissues.

“Clean up and get dressed,” she told him then reached for her panties, giving Bart a flash of blue hair as she put them on.

“Not a word to anyone about this,” Marge said in her mom voice. To Bart’s “yes, ma’am” she added, “And don’t go looking for that video. It’s a private thing and not for your eyes.”

Bart had to ask. “Then why do you have it?”

“That’s private too.”

But Bart knew the answer. If his mom and dad had one of the Van Houten’s, then they probably had one of his mom and dad. He and Milhouse had some searching to do.

Now dressed, Bart looked at his mother. Not knowing what else to say, he whispered, “Thanks, Mom.”

“My pleasure,” she joked. “Our pleasure really. Bart, what we did wasn’t right, but I enjoyed it.”

“So did I, Mom. And not right is what we Simpsons do best. Maybe one day we could do this again?”

“Maybe. If you’re good – very good, and you can get your grades up as well as you get something else up, who knows.”

In Dad’s Bed
Lisa Simpson was walking past her parents’ room when she heard her father moan. Thinking he might be sick, she opened the door.

“Daddy, are all right?” she asked only to see …

Her father’s thick cock spurting its cream on to his stomach.

“Lisa!” Homer said in surprise. “I was just …”

“Masturbating,” Lisa said calmly. That her father was in bed naked, his penis still partly erect, did not seem to bother her. She was, after all, a Simpson. “With Mom on vacation with her sisters I should have guessed.”

“Next time I’ll lock the door.”

“Good idea. I’ll go and let you … is that the Lovejoys?”

The DVD Homer had been watching while jerking off was still playing. What Lisa saw as she turned to leave were Timothy and Helen Lovejoy. He was their pastor, she was his wife. Helen was on her hands and knees with the reverend behind her, ramming his dick into her pussy with short, hard thrusts. The camera zoomed in to catch the penetrating strokes then panned out to show the pleasure on Helen’s face.

The clever girl quickly figured things out. “So, Dad, do the Lovejoys have a video of you and Mom?” The look on her father’s face said “yes.”

Her parents making a sex video, doing IT on camera. What else might they have done and with whom? I’m getting excited, she thought and realized that she was unconsciously rubbing herself.

Turning back to Homer, Lisa saw him watching her, his penis now fully erect. “I should go,” she said, intending to take thoughts of the Lovejoys and her father’s large, thick pole back to her bedroom to relieve her carnal tension.

“You don’t have to,” Homer said quietly.

Lisa thought about what might happen – they’d watch each other, they’d touch each other, they might even … Her excitement grew and she said, “No, I guess I don’t.” She joined her father in bed.

At the end of the bed Lisa sat on her thighs with her knees apart, her panties clearly visible. With her father looking, she ran a finger up and down the outside of her slightly wet panties, rubbing harder when he began to stroke his cock.

“Lisa, honey … would you …”

She knew what her father wanted and paused long enough to slip off her panties. Then after giving her father a nice look at her bare cunny she began to rub her slit and thumb her little bud.

I’ve never been this turned on, Lisa thought as with one finger she played with herself. Not with Bart or Milhouse, or even Nelson. She looked at her father, his hand slowly stroking his enormous tool. None of them have cocks like Dad’s. And it’s so close. I could touch it. I could touch Dad’s cock. And he could touch my pussy. Lisa imagined her father getting up, forcing her back then ramming his dick inside her. The thought of Homer fucking her thrilled and excited her.

She felt the heat, the sexual warmth that started between her legs and would soon spread through her body. I’m close. She looked at her father and saw that he was looking at her, watching her, seeing her thumb on her clit and her finger just inside her hole. He was harder and his tip was leaking fluid. He’s close.

“Come for me, Daddy,” she dared to say and he did, spattering his pleasure over his stomach even as her own joy raced through her body, her “Aaahhhhh” joining with his “D’ooooohhhh.”

As her father softened, Lisa crawled up into his arms and together they enjoyed their aftercome.

“That was nice,” Lisa said.

“Sure was,” Homer agreed.

“And wrong.”

“Very wrong.”

“If Mom ever finds out …”

“She’ll kill us both.”

“About those videos …”

“Well hidden and none of your business.”

For now, Lisa thought. To her father she said, “Okay,” then asked, “When’s Mom coming back?”

“End of the week. Why?”

“If you need to watch another movie let me know, okay?”

And with that Lisa grabbed her panties and went to her room.

In the Shower
After a hard day at the Power Plant – Mr. Burns was about and he actually had to work – Homer Simpson came home, drank a beer (okay, two beers) then decided to take a shower. He was under the water’s warm spray for about three minutes when the shower door opened.

“Room for one more?” his daughter Lisa asked. Without waiting for his reply she joined him.

She was, of course, naked and as Homer looked at her pert breasts, small but firm ass and lightly thatched pussy he could not help but react.

It was far from the first time either had seen the other naked – in the Simpson home nudity was no big deal – but lately things had changed. Two days ago Lisa had not only walked in on him while he was masturbating but had joined in – showing him her pussy and playing with it as he fired off another round. Thinking of this caused Homer to react even more.

Lisa giggled. “You’re getting big, Daddy,” she said as the water plastered down her hair and ran her young body. As Homer said, “Er, yeah” she said, “Turn around, I’ll wash your back.”

Homer did and Lisa started at the small of his back. He felt the warm, soapy cloth she was using go higher, then she was pressing against him as she reached higher still, the warmth of her body hotter than the water.

The cloth went lower, past his back on to his buttocks. Lisa washed each cheek then down between his thighs and up, almost but not quite touching his sack.

“Now you do me.”

Homer turned to see Lisa leaning against the shower wall. Damn she has a nice ass, he thought. He also thought of how easy it would be to spread his daughter’s legs just a little wider then ram his pole into her young pussy. He shook this thought aside as he took the washcloth from her hand. He washed her starting at her neck then going lower, past the small of her back down to her firm buttocks, soaping one cheek then the other before daring to wash between her thighs. There he stopped.

Lisa turned. “That felt good, Daddy. I see you liked it too.” Homer was fully erect and he was standing so close to his daughter that his hard pole was almost touching her. “Why don’t you wash that while I …”

One of Lisa’s hands began to caress her young breasts. Looking down Homer saw the other between her legs, playing with her slit and bud. His own soapy hand started to stroke his stiff cock.

No words were spoken as father and daughter enjoyed the feel of their own touch and the sight of each other. Then Lisa started breathing hard and uttering little mewing sounds. The hand between her legs moved faster as she pinched her own nipples. Homer stroked himself harder, his slick hand sliding up and down his shaft.

Wanting to enjoy the sight of his naked, sexy daughter a bit longer Homer tried to hold back but was getting close. Close? “Lisa, I …”

“It’s okay, Daddy. You can come on me.” And he did, his warm fluids spattering his daughter’s breasts even as she shook with her own climax.

They stood under the water for a few moments to wash away the signs of sex then left the shower to dry off, Lisa still a bit excited and Homer still more than a little bit hard.

“I guess you could call that good, clean fun,” Homer said a little bit guiltily.

“Clean and dirty at the same time,” Lisa replied without a trace of guilt. Hanging up her towel she put on her robe. “Daddy …” she said as she opened the bathroom door.

“Yes, honey?”

“You were the first to ever come on me.” And as she closed to door behind her she added, “I’ll be in your room.”

Back in Dad’s Bed
Still in the robes and propped against pillows, Lisa and Homer sat cuddled together in his bed.

“You’ve been with boys?” It was as much a statement as a question.

“A few, Daddy, but nothing much happened. Just some kissing, and looking , and touching.”

“Was – the Boy – one of them?”

“You mean Bart? Daddy, that would be wrong, very wrong. And if Mom ever found out she’d kill us both.” The same words said after their first time together told Homer everything.

“I see.” And in his mind Homer did, imaging Bart playing with Lisa’s pussy as she rubbed his dick.

“Your turn, Daddy. Tell me about the videos. It was the Lovejoys, you and Mom, and who else?”

“Luann and Kirk,” Homer admitted. “We were at a party over Flanders’s and we all had too much to drink. The subject of ‘home movies’ came up and, well, some videos got made.”

“Did you guys swap partners?”

“No, of course not.”

“And what about Mr. Flanders?”

“He, um, edited the movies.”

“He must have enjoyed that.”

“I’m sure he did, more than once I imagine.”

“Tee hee,” Lisa giggled. “Daddy, you’re big again.”

He was. Homer’s penis was erect and sticking out of his robe.

“You’re very big, Daddy. Much, much bigger than Bart or the other boys.” Reaching over, Lisa lightly stroked her father’s rod. “And hard, and smooth, and hot.”

“Lisa, honey, don’t. It’s … wrong.”

“As wrong as my doing this to Bart? As wrong as coming on your daughter? Of course it’s wrong, Daddy. That’s what makes it fun.”

Then to Homer’s relief and disappointment Lisa did stop, only to untie her robe and lay down on the bed. “Touch me, Daddy. Touch my breasts and cunny and make me feel good.”

Seeing Lisa on the bed – naked, willing, vulnerable – it was all Homer could do to keep from covering her, spreading her legs and forcing himself inside her. Would she object or welcome him? His cock throbbed with the need to find out. Fighting off the temptation, Homer took off his robe and reached out to his daughter.

His massive hand covered all of one breast. He squeezed it gently, feeling her hard nipple press against his palm. With a finger he teased that nipple and then the other one, lightly flicking it the way Marge liked.

“Feels good,” Lisa whispered so Homer continued, caressing, teasing, flicking and pinching until Lisa’s hand on his urged him downward. He traced a line from her breast and past her stomach and navel. Then Homer’s hand was on his daughter’s youthful pussy.

She was very wet and slightly open. His finger found her hole and gently pushed. “Not too deep,” Lisa moaned. He stopped, making little circles around the edges before moving up to her bud.

Lisa moaned again. “Ohhh, Daddy!” and reached for him. Homer shifted so she could grasp him. With her hand on his cock – stroking it, rubbing it, fingering its tip, Homer played with Lisa’s pussy, his finger on her bud, then down to her hole, then up again, slowly at first, then faster and faster until she was arching her hips in need of release. Homer gave it to her. His finger just inside her hole he thumbed her clit, flicking it the way he had her nipple.

“Ooooohhhh, Dadddddyyyy” Lisa cried, coming for what seemed like forever as her climax raced through her.

I could fuck her now, Homer thought but instead waited out his daughter’s orgasm. When she was done, he shifted, his cock now near her breasts. Taking her hand, he put it on him. Knowing her father’s need, Lisa rubbed him fast and hard. For the second time that day she said, “Come on me, Daddy” and he did, loosing his load over her breasts.

Again father and daughter cuddled. “Mom will be home in a few days,” Lisa said. “I guess you and she will ‘be busy’ when she gets home.”

“Nah, she’s always too tired when she gets home. But don’t expect to see much of us the day after.”

“Mom’s lucky - and so are you.”

Homer had to agree. “You and the Boy, and the boys, be careful.”

“We will, Daddy. Maybe the next time Mom goes away we can watch a movie together.”

In the Bath
Marge Simpson was enjoying her bath. Everything was just as she liked it. The wine in her glass was cold and dry. The water was a little hot and steamy. The book she was reading – Yellow Surrender – was also hot and steamy.

Marge was just at the point where the heroine was tied to a bed as her next door neighbor was violating her anally. She was picturing herself being forcibly fucked in the ass by Ned Flanders when Bart walked in.

Marge made no move to cover up. Bart made no move to look away from her exposed breasts. “Sorry, Mom, I didn’t know you were in here.”

“I should have locked the door. Now that you’re here …” Marge looked toward the toilet.

“I don’t mind if you don’t,” he said, bringing to mind a time on the couch when mother and son watched each other masturbate. Dropping his shorts, Bart let loose his stream into the bowl.

Watching her son pee, Marge again thought how innocently erotic he looked. Not that he was all that innocent. Marge knew things about Bart that he didn’t know she knew. But erotic – definitely. The wine, the book, the memory of seeing Bart’s boy juice shooting out of his young dick caused Marge to become wet with something other than water.

Bart finished and had shaken off the last few drops. He was pulling up his shorts when Marge said, “You need to wash that.”

He never had before but she was the mom. He reached for a washcloth.

“No, not like that. Take off your things and get in here.”

Naked and now erect, Bart got into the tub with his mother. Sitting across from her, he had a great view of her breasts. Looking down he could make out the water-blurred blue of her bush. Taking the soap he began to slowly wash his cock and balls.

“What are you reading?” he asks.

“It’s a story about a woman who has an affair with her neighbor. They start off having normal sex but then he forces her to do more and more perverse things.”

“I thought forcing someone to have sex was wrong.”

“It is, Bart, but in this case the woman wants to be forced. It’s a game the two are playing.”

“Do you and Homer ever play those kinds of games?”

“What games we play in bed are none of your business. Hand me the soap.”

Marge lathered her breasts, her nipples poking through soapy bubbles as her son watched, his slick hand sliding up and down his pole.

“You’ve got a nice cock, Bart.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

One of Marge’s hands dropped to her lap, then disappeared between her legs. She let out a little “Mmmm” as two fingers slipped inside her. “Make it shoot for me.”

With his mother naked before him, playing with her boob and bush, Bart needed no further encouragement. Her fingers going in deep, Marge watched as Bart’s one hand cupped his balls as the other stroked his cock faster and faster. Soon …

“Mom, I’m gonna …

“Let it go, Son.”

And he did. With a low moan then a soft sigh Bart released his cream into the water.

Her son having come, it was Marge’s turn. With two fingers pistoning in and out of her snatch, her other went to her clit, rubbing the little bud until carnal pleasure raced through her. Her legs stretching out and she came with an “Oooohhhh Mmyyyyyy!”

When her climax faded, Marge realized that her left foot was resting against Bart’s rapidly reviving penis. She flexed her toes and felt him harden against them.

“Feels good,” a smiling Bart said.

Marge agreed. “Sure does, ever have a foot job?”

“I’ve had a …” Bart stopped, having said too much.

“Blow job?” Marge asked. Bart shook his head. “Hand job?” Bart nodded. “From Lisa and who else?” At Bart’s surprise look she added, “I’m your mother. I know everything. Who else?”

“Jessica … and the twins.”

“And did you return the favor?” Another nod from Bart. “Good boy. Giving is as important – and as sexy – as receiving. Now let’s get out and dry off.”

After toweling off, Bart reached for his clothes. Marge stopped him.

“I said dry off, not get dressed. Now let’s go to my room.”

In Mom’s Bed
Mother and son naked in bed, the same bed where not too long ago father and daughter had played with each other. Bart was playing with Marge’s breasts. She was letting him, enjoying the feel of his hands as they rubbed her globes and teased her nipples.

“Do you do this with Lisa and the other girls?”

“Yeah, but their boobs aren’t as big or nice as yours.”

Bart continued to play until Marge wanted more. Taking his hand, she guided it down past her navel to her most secret spot.

“And have you done this with Lisa and the others?”

“Sure have,” Bart said as he probed his mother’s opening.

“With me you can go deep. Use two fingers, Son.”

Bart slid two fingers deep into his mother’s hole. Marge moaned and her hips bucked slightly.

“In and out, Bart. In and out as fast as you can.”

Bart’s fingers moved as rapidly as they could in his mother’s pussy, their back and forth motion being met with thrusts of his mother’s hips.

“Oh yes!” Marge sighed. “Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes!”

I could fuck her now, Bart realized, I could fuck Mom and she’d let me. The thought excited him and made his cock twitch and grow.

Bart could fuck me now, Marge realized even as the heat inside her grew to the boiling point. My son could fuck me and I’d let him. The thought of fucking her son brought to the very edge.

Neither acted on what they knew could be. Instead Marge cried, “Bart, my clit” and exploded in joy when he rubbed her little bud.

“Oh Yeeessssss!” Marge came long and hard, with Bart rubbing from clit to hole and back again to prolong her orgasm. When she finally finished, she reached for her son and pulled him close.

His cock was on her thigh, pointing toward her pussy. Marge held it there, pressing it against her as she rubbed and stroked it. “You’re close, aren’t you?” Bart’s sigh was her only answer. “Then come for me. Come on me.” Her hand enveloped him and with an “Oh Mommy!” he let loose, spraying his cum over his mother’s blue bush.

Enjoying their aftercome, mother and son cuddled and drifted off for a time. When they woke up, Bart was again partly erect.

“You can take care of that one in your room,” Marge said. “Or save it for Lisa tonight. Your father will be … too busy to hear you.”

“Ideas from the book, Mom?”

“Something like that.”

In Bart’s Room
It was inevitable:

“Lisa, guess what Mom and I did.” He told her. Then she told Bart what she and Homer did.

For a moment brother and sister looked at each other. Then Lisa took off her panties and Bart dropped his shorts. No sooner did they hit Bart’s bed then his hand was on her cunny and she was stroking his pole.

“You really let Homer come on you?”

“Mom let you shoot on her pussy?”

The thought of each other with their parents excited the pair so much that neither took long.

“Bart … I’m … rub my clit har … aaahhhhhhh!”

“Lisa … I … “

“Go ahead, Bart.”

As Bart’s cock throbbed in her hand, Lisa directed it towards her in time to feel his warm spray on her thigh and cunny.

“Wow!”

“You got that right, Lis. Wow! So tell me again about you and Homer.”

“If you tell me about Mom and you.”

The two youths got excited all over again, and after Lisa came on Bart’s hand she let him come on her tits.

In Homer and Marge’s Room
It was inevitable

“Marge, I have something to tell you.” He told her about Lisa. Then she told him what she and Bart had done.

For a moment husband and wife looked at each other. Then Homer grabbed Marge, raised her dress and pulled off her panties. This while Marge unzipped Homer and took out his thickening cock. He was inside her before they hit the bed.

“You showered with Lisa and came on her.”

“I came on her twice, once in this bed. You jerked off the Boy and let him play with your tits and cunt.”

“I let him come on my cunt, right in this bed. I thought about fucking him.”

“I thought about fucking Lisa.”

They fucked hard, Homer brutally ramming his cock into Marge with her meeting every thrust. They did not fuck long. The thought of each other with their kids excited the pair so much that they came fast and came together.

“Ooohhhh, Homie!”

“Ooohhhh, Margie!”

A short time later …

“Tell me again about you and Lisa.” Marge was wet and naked.

Homer was hard and naked. “If you tell me what you did with Bart.”

Again their bodies joined together, and again they came together. Finally sated, they cuddled. Then Marge said, “I think we need a family meeting.”

In the Living Room
The family meeting did not go as planned. Marge meant to talk about taboos and inappropriate behavior and how they had to control themselves. But …

“Inappropriate is what us Simpsons do best.”

“Bart’s right, Mom. Besides, this has brought us closer together. I know I feel closer to Dad, and I’m sure Bart and you are a lot closer.”

Homer agreed, and even Marge allowed that the family had been getting along better. That’s when Bart took off his shirt, then dropped his pants to display a growing erection.

“Who wants to join me in some family fun time?”

To everyone’s surprise, Marge made the next move. Off came her dress, bra and panties. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”

Homer and Lisa followed and soon all four Simpsons were pleasuring themselves, Homer in his chair; Marge, Bart and Lisa on the couch. No one touched anyone else, not until Marge said, “Lisa, I think your father could use a hand.”

Kneeling in front of her father, Lisa took over stroking him. Feeling his huge cock throb and pulse, she pointed it towards herself. “Come on me, Daddy,” and for the first time she felt the blast of cum on her face. Some of it got in her mouth and she found she liked the taste.

Marge and Bart watched Homer and Lisa, her firmly grasping his young cock. It wasn’t long before Bart moaned and shot his pleasure over her hand and his stomach.

Marge laid back on the couch. Lisa sat on her father’s lap. Getting in close, Bart slid two, then three fingers into his mother’s pussy. Homer played with his daughter’s slit and bud.

“Faster, Bart.”

“Harder, Daddy.”

Bart and Homer grew. Lisa felt her father’s rod rubbing her ass crack. Marge was very aware of how close her son’s pole was to her open, needy pussy.

They were all thinking it. Marge of grabbing her son and pulling him into her. Bart of covering his mother and feeling her warmth around his dick. Homer of lifting Lisa up and impaling her. Lisa of what it would be like to have her virginity ripped away by her father.

Then Bart’s fingers hit just the right spots and Marge came. Hearing her mother’s “Oh Yeeessssss!” triggered Lisa’s climax and she shuddered on her father’s lap.

There was a pause. Carnal tension filled the room. Bart and Homer were both fully erect with forbidden pussy just inches away from each of their cocks. It was Lisa who decided.

“Dad, go fuck Mom. Bart, come over here and we’ll watch.”

Marge made no objection as Homer joined her on the couch. In fact she spread her legs wide and welcomed him in as he covered her. They then fucked slow and easy in front of their kids, taking time to enjoy the moment each other.

On the chair, Bart reached for Lisa. “Hands to yourself, Bart. Just watch Mom and Dad.”

And they did, marveling at watching two people in love make love and each hoping that one day they’d find a special person.

And after they had all come again, when family fun time was done, when Marge said something about cleaning up and setting some rules, Bart asked,

“Now will you tell us where you hid those videos?”

The End

[67hawk]

RIGHT ON! LOVE IT! You got a fan in me.