The Little May Series: Lousy Parents (Part 2)

Tom catches Katy playing with the dog and they indulge in a little fantasy about their teenagers...

Katy sat nursing her second coffee idly watching the ducks bob past the boat's kitchen window. The steam from the kettle had fogged the glass, and she absently wiped it clear with the side of her hand—still not dressed, still in just those sensible cotton knickers and her favorite short silk robe.

The memory played on a loop: Stan's arc of golden piss splattering across May's tiny tits, the way her daughter had squealed before retaliating with that cheeky little spread of her smooth pussy lips. It had been hilarious but she'd also been surprised to find herself more than a little aroused.

The way May had so shamelessly opened herself, the sight of her little boys teenage cock pointing straight up rock hard.

Katy took another sip of coffee, her thighs pressing together under the table. Fuck what was wrong with her today? She'd noticed Tom had gotten hard—couldn't miss it really, the way his pajama pants tented when May arched her back to piss at Stan. She should've been appalled. Should've swatted him upside the head. But instead her own cunt had given an unmistakable throb of interest. So wrong, but—well. It was just biology, wasn't it? Their kids were beautiful. Who could blame either of them for noticing?

Her hand crept down between her thighs before she could stop it, fingers slipping beneath the cotton of her knickers. The damp heat that greeted her made her breath hitch. Katy bit her lip, watching the ducks outside as her fingertips circled her clit with slow, teasing pressure.

Banjo the family pitbull stretched in his basket and trotted over, his nails clicking against the wooden floor. He nudged her bare thigh with his wet nose, whining softly.

Katy paused working her hand between her legs, she had promised herself that she wouldn't let herself do that again. She sighed and scratched behind Banjo's ears, the dog's warm tongue lapping at her fingers—still slick from her own arousal.

"You can just tell when Mummy's horny can't you boy?" she murmured, watching his tail thump against the floor. The boat rocked gently with the wake of a passing narrowboat. Fuck it, she was already fiddling with herself while thinking about her kids pissing on each other... why not let her darker impulses win?

Katy exhaled sharply through her nose, fingers hooking into the waistband of her sensible cotton knickers. The elastic snapped against her thighs as she tugged them down—a quick, decisive motion—letting them pool around one ankle before kicking them off entirely. Banjo cocked his head at the discarded underwear, then promptly nuzzled then, tail wagging. He knew this game and he liked it.

Katy crossed to the worn leather sofa—and let her robe slither open as she sank onto the cushions. Her thighs fell open without thought, the damp lips of her cunt exposed to the cool morning air drifting through the porthole. One hand drifted between her legs, fingers sliding through her own slick folds with ease, while the other patted the sofa. "Here boy."

Banjo needed no further invitation. The pitbull padded over, his thick, pink tongue was already lolling in anticipation as he nosed eagerly at the thatch of soft blonde curls between her thighs, his wet snuffling breaths sending shivers up Katy's spine.

"Oh god—" she exhaled as that warm, rough tongue dragged through her folds in one long, sloppy lick. Her back arched, fingers knotting in his short fur as Banjo lapped at her with the same single-minded enthusiasm he usually reserved for his food bowl.

Katy spread herself wider, hands hooking inside her own thighs to hold her swollen lips apart, presenting herself to the dog like a bitch in heat. Banjo's tongue was thick and relentless, probing deeper with each wet stroke—no finesse, just pure animal hunger as he slurped at her cunt, his jowls dripping with her arousal.

Her toes curled against the leather sofa, a whimper catching in her throat as that hot, rough tongue found her clit and swiped it with enough pressure to make her hips jerk.

Tom looked down at his crotch as he pulled out of the school parking lot—drool and traces of cum smeared across his trousers. He reached into the glove compartment for the wet wipes he kept there now, but they just smeared the cum around.

"Fuck it," he muttered, tossing the wipe onto the passenger seat he'd have to go home and change. He'd tell Katy he'd spilt his coffee.

As he approached the boat he noticed the tow path side curtains were all still drawn. Katy must have gone back to bed. If he was quiet she'd never even know he came back.

Tom let himself into the wheelhouse as quietly as he could, but as soon as he stepped inside, he heard it—a wet, rhythmic lapping sound, punctuated by his wife’s breathy little moans.

He froze, the door to the main cabin was slightly ajar, just enough to frame a perfect, obscene vignette: Katy sprawled on the sofa, her robe hiked up around her waist, thighs splayed wide. And between them—Banjo, his thick pink tongue working in deep, messy strokes between her glistening folds. The dog’s tail wagged in slow, contented sweeps as he feasted, completely focused on his task.

It was one of the sexiest things Tom had ever seen. The way his wife’s thighs trembled around their dog’s muzzle, her cunt glistening under Banjo’s relentless tongue. Katy’s head tipped back, her mouth slack with pleasure. No shame, no hesitation. Just raw, unfiltered need.

The boat rocked gently, sunlight slicing through the gaps in the curtains to stripe her body in gold, catching the sweat beading between her breasts. Tom’s cock, still half-hard from his daughter's mouth, throbbed in his trousers.

Katy could feel her orgasm rising, one hand moved to her clit, fingers circling in time with Banjo's eager lapping. That thick, rough tongue buried so deep—fuck, she could practically feel it in her belly. "Oh god, that's it, just like that," she panted, her hips rolling to meet the dog's enthusiastic ministrations.

Tom's cock was in his hand without any conscious knowledge of having unzipped himself. The sight of Katy writhing beneath Banjo's tongue—her cunt spread obscenely wide, the dog's jowls slick with her arousal—made his own saliva pool in his mouth. He crept down the stairs not wanting to disturb her but simultaneously wanting to join in.

A single violent shudder racked Katy’s body as she came, her thighs clamping around Banjo's head with enough force to make the dog whine. Her back arched like a bowstring, her mouth open in a silent scream as her orgasm tore through her, juices gushing over the dog's snout.

Tom's grip on his cock turned punishing as he watched her collapse back onto the sofa, boneless and panting, Banjo still lapping greedily at her twitching cunt.

"Hi honey... I'm home." Katy's eyes snapped open at Tom's voice—husky, amused—just as Banjo gave one last enthusiastic slurp between her still-trembling thighs. She jerked up, pushing Banjo away. As she turned her head toward the doorway where Tom leaned against the frame, stroking his cock with slow, deliberate tugs.

His gaze flicked between her glistening cunt and the dog's saliva-slick muzzle. They just stared at each other. "I.. I can explain," Katy stammered, but Tom cut her off with a deep chuckle, his cock still in his hand. "Ssshhh, its okay," he murmured, stepping closer, "that was the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen."

Then suddenly he was on her—crushing her mouth under his in a kiss that tasted like toothpaste and coffee. Katy gasped into his mouth as he gripped her hips, turning her over with rough efficiency until her palms flattened against the sofa cushions, knees planted on the floor. The position left her ass high in the air—still glistening from Banjo's attentions—her cunt on shameless display.

Tom didn't hesitate. He dragged the thick, flushed head of his cock through her folds in one slow, filthy stroke—not entering her, just teasing her. The way her body trembled under the blunt pressure, the way her juices smeared across his slit when he paused to grind against her clit. Katy whimpered, pushing back against him instinctively, but Tom held her hips firm, keeping the angle just shy of penetration.

"So this is what you get up to when I'm at work. No wonder that dog loves you," he rasped, dragging his cock up to circle her asshole—just to feel her jolt.

She just whimpered pushing her hips back. Banjo circled them, panting, his pink tongue still dripping Katy's arousal onto the floorboards. Tom chuckled darkly. "What a morning. First our kids pissing on each other and now you and the dog. What the fuck is wrong with our family?"

Katy laughed breathlessly into the cushion, her fingers digging into the leather. Tom finally slid inside her with one smooth thrust, her pussy open and slick from Banjo's tongue.

Tom started to fuck her with slow, deep strokes, Katy’s pussy squelching obscenely around him. His fingers gripped her hips tight enough to leave bruises—marking her skin with possessive crescents.

"Was that what got you so hot? Watching our kids play?" Tom growled into Katy's ear as his hips snapped forward, his cock dragging against her inner walls with each thrust. His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her head back sharply—not enough to hurt, just enough to make her gasp.

The wet slap of skin against skin filled the cabin, but Katy didn't reply. "Fuck it was, wasn't it?" He chuckled darkly, gripping her hips tighter as he thrust deeper, his balls slapping against her slick folds. Katy whimpered into the cushion, her fingers clawing at the leather.

She looked back at him, her pupils blown wide with the kind of hunger that made Tom's balls ache. "I saw the hardon you were trying to hide," she whispered, her voice hoarse, "so I guess we're both fucking lousy parents."

Tom smiled lopsidedly, his thrusts slowing to a filthy, grinding roll of his hips—letting her feel every thick inch of him dragging against her walls. He leaned down until his lips brushed the shell of Katy’s ear, his voice low and rough, "at least we're both on the same page, they're both good looking kids..."

In that moment Katy hated herself, but he was right watching them had woken something primal in her. She didn't want to think about why her body reacted so viscerally to the sight of her own children—their youthful bodies slick with water, their laughter echoing off the shower tiles. But Tom's cock buried deep inside her chased away any lingering guilt.

Her fingers found her clit instinctively, rubbing tight little circles just as Tom changed his angle, hitting that spot inside her that made her toes curl. Katy whimpered, her own arousal mixing with Banjo's saliva and Tom's precum—a filthy cocktail smeared across her thighs.

The dog still circled them, his warm breath puffing against her bare ass as he panted, waiting for another taste. "Were you imagining them fucking as the dog ate you?" Tom murmured against her neck, his teeth scraping her pulse point. "You naughty girl."

His thrusts slow and steady, the slap of skin echoing off the narrowboat's wooden walls. Katy nodded into the cushions, her next orgasm building like a storm surge—inevitable, overwhelming. Tom pulled out of her pussy suddenly, the sudden emptiness making her whimper.

He spat thickly onto her asshole, the warm glob landing with a wet splat before he pressed his slick cock against the tight furl of muscle. "This what you want?" he growled, working his cock head into her with slow, insistent circles.

Katy arched her back. Pushing against his cockhead—she wanted what came next, even as she bit her lip waiting for the burn, as images of their kids tangled together in her head.

He slowly breached her sphincter, the tight ring splaying open under his persistent pressure. Katy groaned into the sofa cushions—half pain, half dizzying pleasure—as Tom cock head finally popped past the resisting muscle. The stretch burned deliciously, her body yielding to him, as she frantically rubbed her clit edging closer to her climax.

Tom just kept pushing, his cock sliding deeper into the warm tight sheath of her ass, inch by inch. Katy muffled her scream against the leather as his hips met hers, fully seated inside her. The fullness was unbearable—like being split open—yet she rocked back against him instinctively, chasing that friction.

Tom gripped her waist with bruising force, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he began to move. Slow, shallow thrusts at first, letting her adjust to the invasion, before pulling back almost completely and slamming home again.

The sound was obscene—wet flesh slapping, her choked gasps, the creak of the sofa under their combined weight. Her orgasm was a deep throbbing thing, surfacing slow like molten rock before erupting violently.

Katy's scream tore through the narrowboat, her body clamping down around him in rhythmic pulses, her cunt fluttering empty and aching while her ass milked his cock with shameless greed. The sharp stretch of penetration versus the tidal wave of pleasure—left her gasping into the sofa cushions, her fingers clawing at the leather as if it might anchor her to reality.

Tom didn’t slow. His thrusts grew rougher, more erratic, his voice a gravelly rasp against her ear. "Bet May would take it like this," he panted, his cockhead dragging against her inner walls with each brutal thrust.

"Bet she’d beg for it—just like you are." Katy whimpered, her body still trembling with aftershocks as he painted lurid images with his words: May bent over the sofa, her smooth little asshole glistening with spit, Stan’s cock rutting into her while Tom watched.

"You think she’d let him?" Tom’s fingers dug into Katy’s hips, pulling her back onto his cock with a wet slap. "Our sweet little girl, spread wide for her brother?" The fantasy spilled from him in jagged fragments, his rhythm stuttering as he pictured it—May’s pink cunt stretched around Stan’s length, her high-pitched moans muffled against the sheets. Katy’s answering shudder was all the confirmation he needed.

He was fucking Katy mercilessly now—deep, punishing thrusts that punched the air from her lungs—but her fingers never stopped working her clit, circling the swollen nub in tight, frantic spirals. Even as her ass burned from the stretch, even as Tom's cock pistoned into her with brutal jarring force, her fingertips kept chasing that next cresting wave of pleasure, smearing Banjo's saliva and her own slick across her folds.

Her breath came in jagged gasps, her thighs trembling with the effort of holding herself up. Tom’s grip on her hips shifted—one hand sliding up to fist in her hair, wrenching her head back until her spine arched obscenely. "Say it," he growled against the sweat-damp curve of her neck, his thrusts turning shallow, deliberate. "Say you imagined her with him."

His cock twitched inside her as he punctuated the demand with a particularly vicious snap of his hips. Katy choked out a sob, her fingers faltering against her clit—she was so close, teetering on the edge, but he wouldn’t let her fall until she gave him what he wanted.

"Yes—fuck, *yes*—" Katy gasped, the words torn from her throat as Tom's cock plunged deeper, the swollen head of him grinding against that unbearable spot inside her deep in her arse.

Her fingers were a blur between her thighs, the wet squelch of her own arousal mingling with the filthy slap of skin against skin. She could feel the way her body clung to him, every involuntary clench of her muscles dragging a groan from Tom's chest as he fucked into her relentlessly.

"I *saw* the way you looked at them," she panted, her voice breaking on a moan as his thumb found her clit, pressing down hard. "You—*ah*—you want to fuck her don't you. Wanted our sweet little girl to take her Daddy’s —*ohgod*—cock like this—"

Tom's hip stuttered, pushed over edge by the words dripping from Katy's lips—if only she knew the truth. That May had been his eager little fuck toy for years.. He came with a raw, punched-out groan, his cock pulsing thick ropes deep into her arse as his fingers dug bruises into her waist.

Katy felt the hot spill of it, the way her body milked him greedily even as her own orgasm crested—a sharp, bright thing that left her gasping against the sofa cushions, her thighs trembling.

He collapsed forward onto her back, both of them slick with sweat, breathing ragged against the muffled sounds of canal water lapping against the hull. She turned her head, their lips meeting—salty, desperate, a shared breath laced with dark passion.

"That was amazing," she whispered against his mouth, fingers tracing his stubble. Then, abruptly, she pulled back. Eyes locked onto his, she swallowed hard. "But it’s just a fantasy, okay? We can never cross that line."