Once a Sugar Momma, always a Sugar Dolly Momma

Read "How did I become  a Sugar Momma first."

How often does one of your porn fantasies really come true?  Like just about to the letter?  Ben was pushing 60, and, sure, being married to Dolly was pretty much a porn fantasy come true all day, every day, but this was the next step beyond.


He'd stopped short of calling out for Dolly with a Ricky Ricardoesque, "Honey, I'm home!" when he immediately heard sounds that are unmistakable—a man and a woman fucking.  These were not the sounds of lovemaking.  Someone was getting really scrogged.  And that someone was Ben's sex-maniac wife.  He'd known since Day One that she had super-nympho needs he could not fulfill.  But to hear her being fucked, this was something he hadn't expected.  And in his own home!


Ben felt a mixture of anger, intrigue, and humiliation, plus an incredible rush of erotic cuckold lust, all bust loose within his mind and his body.  Those sounds.


"Yes, oh fuck, yes, mmmm, mmmm, mmm, yes, right there, oh God, yes, fuck me like that, ugh, ahhh, oh fu-uck, don't stop, dammit, shit yes, fuck me right there ...."  It was Dolly's voice in the middle of getting banged big time, and the sounds were coming not just from Ben's high rise home he'd bought to share with Dolly, but from his own bedroom.  His blood boiled, but he had to admit, it was boiling in his cock as well, and he was getting harder as he approached the sound of his wife being sexually taken by another.  Who the fuck was fucking Dolly?  And the sounds were showing no signs of stopping as he walked quietly down the hall, unconsciously hoping he wouldn't be heard and that the sex would continue.


"Oh damn, Dolly, your body feels so damn good and hard, fit and sexy.  You're the sexiest fuck ever...uuuughghh, God yes, squeeze my cock with your pussy just like that, make me feel like you're going to rip my cock off with your hot snapping pussy, grip me with it ...."  The guy knew what he liked.  Great taste, all the attributes he mentioned in his sex-induced rant were some of Ben's own favorite aspects of hot sex with Dolly.  You really could slam yourself into her—her muscle tone, still sexy and feminine, was so strong that you knew her body was indestructible.  And that tight pussy vise-grip she had gave her such control.  She once did a series of gripping pulse's on Ben's cock, over and over, until Ben's eyes grew wide and he said to her, "Holy shit, that's the opening of Beethoven's Fifth, you're playing music on my cock with your pussy!!"  Wonder what tune she was playing on the strange cock filling her on my bed right now, Ben mused.


The slapping, flesh hitting flesh, a slight splat, let Ben know that Dolly and her lover (Was he a lover?  Was he a Dolly Date?  Did Ben get a cut of the Dolly-date fee when the date took place in his bed, he mused, allowing himself some comic relief from the reality that he'd walked in on his sexy, toned, perennially horny wife fucking another man in his marital bed.  If it didn't sound so fucking hot, forcing Ben to admit the reason he enjoyed cuckold porn was that he had more than a touch of desire not only to enjoy sex with Dolly, but to see Dolly in action.  He'd asked why she'd never done porn, but realizing the impact that would have on her private, every-day civilian life, he understood.  This might be his only chance to see Dolly being wildly schtupped like she desired.  And it didn't sound as if it was anywhere close to ending.


Some rustling, the flesh slapping stopped, and heavy panting of "Yes, in front of the mirror, face away from me, fuck me reverse cowgirl style, Momma, I want to see your Goddess body taking my cock, making you mine, mine to fuck, mine to enjoy."  "Momma?" Ben wondered.  Okay, must be a Dolly Date, some guy having a kinky dirty fantasy.


"Mmm, God, you do fuck me so good, baby.  You're gonna split me in half with that tool.  Oh shit, oh shit, oh oh oh oh, yessss, you feel so damn good inside me.  I wish you would always do me just like this every time from now on ...."


Ben was fully erect, hearing Dolly pledge her body's eternal devotion to another man's cock.  Totally a Dolly Date, he kept telling himself.  Oh please be a Dolly date, he wondered in an even deeper part of his erotically over-charged brain.


Schlurping sounds.  Somebody's mouth on something.  From reverse cowgirl?  What the?  And then the sounds were back to body to body.  Amid the smacks, slaps, moans, gasps, "Oh fuck"s and then just wordless cries of pleasure when Dolly stopped speaking and  surrendered to the electric jolts that pulsed through her when she came, multiple times, in rapid succession.  Ben was no longer mad, now just curious, and worried, as the possibility occurred to him that this might not be a Dolly Date, and that Dolly might have a superior fuck buddy who possessed the secrets to please her in a way that Ben might not be able to do any longer.  Then Ben heard whoever it was making himself at home inside his wife's pussy grunt, groan, and strain, a final, "Aaahhhhh, ahhhhhh, uugh uugh, ah, ah, nnnnnnn" and the rest was just really something a sound effects department might use for a wild destructive beast in a movie.  A big ol' bear a growling.


No more slapping.  More schlurping, kissing—that's what he heard.  So intimate.  This man who had conquered the unconquerable.  Ben had enjoyed some hot sex with Dolly, both while married and before, all the way back to when he was more than happy to leave a fat Dolly Date envelope with a Ben Franklin convention inside for her.  So who the fuck is she with?  And he nudged the door a bit wider to peek inside.


He could see Dolly in full frontal, nude, flexed and muscles taught from the athletic, aerobic process of riding him reverse cowgirl porn-star style, having to prop her body up, support herself as she rode that thick shaft that he could see the base of.  She was still doing mini ups and downs.  His seed was being forced out by the post-orgasmic repetitions.  Their bodies glistened with sweat and, no doubt, down below was covered with Dolly's own squirt juice.  The smell of her sexual emissions was unmistakable.  He'd made her cum, been coated in her cum, and apparently spray painted her womb with his seed.  What the hell was up with no condom?  The guy's legs were long, lean, runner's legs, but Ben couldn't see him, as he was behind Dolly.  Dolly's head was twisted back to kiss him, deeply and passionately, while also supporting her weight on her arms.  Those sexy, yoga-sculpted arms. Her hairless body, freshly fucked, so enticing.


"Baby," she said as she broke the kiss.  Dolly never called anyone "Baby.”  WTF?  "Big daddy is going to be coming home today.  This was so hot, so much what I needed.  You know I love you."  Ben didn't know what the fuck to think.  Love?  Big Daddy?  Was this still part of some role play?  Did the guy have so much Dolly Date seniority that he got to skip the condom and fuck her in her husband's bed?  Sure, a hot fantasy had just come true, but Ben was wondering if he'd totally misjudged and underestimated the challenge of marrying a sexual dynamo like Dolly.  She continued speaking to her lover, then slowly raised herself off his only slightly softened, spent cock, to turn and face him, "I need to shower.  You should do the same, then go home. God, you gave me exactly what I needed.  But Daddy's coming home"


"I know, this was so hot, Dolly.  I'd dreamed of this pretty often, I guess you figured out."  That voice ....


"I think we both did, Greg, and keeping it in the family isn't that bad of an idea, to tell the truth, since I know I need to be with other lovers to keep my sex needs fed.  Your dad is a dream.  He knows and he allows me to take lovers.  I just need to make sure it doesn't spoil everything if you're that lover."


Stunned.!!  Ben's mind was spinning when he saw Dolly fully dismount his sweat coated, fit, handsome young son, his own flesh and blood, who'd just been sampling Daddy's wife.  Greg had stud-fucked Dolly.


Among the thoughts stunning Ben was the idea that Dolly's words were making sense.  Keeping it in the family.  That Ben wouldn't be having any more children, but what if Dolly wanted to have another child?  Who better to seed her fertile, beautiful body than Greg?  And eliminating the risks inherent in Dolly Dates, minimized as they may be, by having Dolly's sexual overage fulfilled by Greg.  Truth was, hearing Dolly fuck had been a huge turn on.  He'd always wanted to watch.  Would some other guy get weirded out if Ben wanted to watch?  But Ben had been proud the first time Greg drove his car, used the old man's Callaway driver to reach a par-five green in two, and borrowed dad's cufflinks to wear with a tux.  Pride?  Did Ben feel actual pride that it was his own son who'd just fucked Dolly's brains out?  Or was it relief?  And would it be too weird to watch his son fuck his wife?


Ben stayed by the door, unseen by the sweaty just-discovered lovers, as Dolly helped Greg to his feet, embraced him, flat tummied toned body to flat tummied toned body, and passionately, slowly, melded her tongue to her stepson's mouth, a light moan from both of them, their hands holding the other tightly, closely. Dolly playfully smacked Greg on the butt and told him to shower first, that she had to strip the sheets.  Greg was an impressive sight, a conquering hero of sort, as his flaccid cock was still about six inches long, dangling, as he went out of view.  Ben heard the sound of the shower and the glass door open and close and saw some steam escape the spa bathroom into the bedroom.


And Dolly stoode there nude, well fucked, sweaty, her body defined, no body fat anywhere, her triceps looking like they could cut glass as she pulled the cum stained sheets off the bed Ben shared with Dolly.  Her ass looking so fuckable as she was bent over.  He didn't need to ask.  It was clear they'd fucked all night.  He knew that Dolly's ass had indeed been fucked by his own son.  Dolly turned to bring the sheets to the washing machine down the hall, and her eyes met Ben's.  She smiled, a wholesome, proud, loving smile.  "Happy Valentines Day, Ben."  Ben stuttered a bit, "And Happy Valentines Day to you, too."  She reeked of sex, perspiration, of physical perfection used well.  She lifted on her tip toes to kiss Ben.  Her mouth vaguely tasted of sex.  He was pretty sure there'd been a trace of Greg's goo in that kiss.  Dolly studied his eyes.


"You heard?  You saw?  Both?"  There was no fear in the question.  God, the sexual confidence she oozed (along with her stepson's cum) was powerful and arousing. "Mostly heard.  Saw just a bit.  How long?"  Dolly smiled. There was no anger in Ben's question.  "First time, Ben.  That's the truth, though this first time started last night and we did it all night long.  If you don't want me to, I won't take him as my lover again.  Not now that you heard and saw."


A twitch in a cock doesn't lie.  Ben felt the truth in his pants.  "No, I know you loved it.  It meant more to you than a Dolly Date—I know what those sound like.  This was more.  I want you to be happy.  And you're safe with him.  It makes sense."


Ben never would have thought that having his wife press her tongue into his mouth while her body dripped another man's cum would be a turn on.  But on that Valentine's Day morning, it was.  Greg was no threat.  Dolly loved them both, but she knew she was married to Ben.  Her offer had been enough.


Greg turned the water off, refreshed, his mind still a bit boggled by the unbelievable sex he'd had all night and much of the morning.  With his own step-mother.  He didn't want to hurt his dad.  But he sure as hell hoped he'd get to enjoy sex with Dolly again. And again.  There weren't two women like that on the planet, of that Greg was sure.  And he was right.  And then Greg heard it. Wet flesh slapping. Grunting. Heavy breathing and moaning.


"Oh God, Ben, you know you own me, uughhh, yeah, oh cum in me, Ben, let me feel you cum in me, oh Ben, or wait, do you want to fuck my mouth, let me suck you dry?  I love it when you fuck me Ben."


Greg knew there hadn't been enough time for Dolly to have dressed and straightened up, and that Ben must know that Dolly had been with him.  And from the sounds of it, there weren't any problems in Dad's marriage as a result of Greg's night of sex with Dolly.  Now, unlike Ben, who found it kind of hot to see Dolly being fucked royally by a young stud, even when the young stud was his own son, Greg drew the line at watching Daddy schtup Dolly.  He grabbed his clothes off the floor and hustled out, knowing that Ben was aware of his presence.  Dolly and Ben didn't miss a beat, enjoying marginally less athletic sex than Greg and Dolly had shared, but filling the room with desire and passion.  A short time later, as Dolly and Ben caught their breath, lying on the heap of well-sexed sheets tossed onto the bed, Ben wondered if his sperm and Greg's sperm would recognize each other as family when they mingled inside Dolly's pleasure-filled tunnel.  He giggled at his own perverse thought.


And then he listened as Dolly proposed some additional ground rules.  They'd work it all out.  And since Greg seemed to have a bit more embarrassment than Ben did, Ben would have one of the more odd father-son bonding moments when he told Greg it was okay, that he understood Greg's desire for Dolly, that they were so close in age, had similar interests and physical gifts, and that having Greg be Dolly's primary extra-marital lover was more reassuring than Dolly's other sex friends, reliable though they were.  All Greg heard was that: (1) he was going to get to keep fucking Dolly; (2) his relationship with his father was going to survive; and (3) had he mentioned to himself that he was going to get to keep fucking Dolly.


Ben and Dolly didn't think it was necessary to tell Greg about the micro-security cameras Ben had installed so that there would be high definition game films of Dolly's extra-marital fucks for him to watch and satisfy his own desires, now admitted and realized, to watch Dolly at the height of her sexuality, engaging in rollicking, physically amazing sex with a fitness specimen worthy of her body.  Although eventually Greg fell in love and married, and his beautiful wife was never the wiser about the step-son/step-mother extramarital sex endorsed by her father-in-law, for a long time after that fateful Valentines' Day Greg and Dolly enjoyed each other with much gusto every time Ben traveled, and the number of Dolly Dates actually dwindled for a while.  But just for a while.  Greg hadn't known the background of the Dolly Dates, but found that he was as turned on by it as his father was.  Dolly describing her sexual conquests and adventures while sharing her body and passion with Greg became a part of their sexual repertoire, just as the videos of Greg and Dolly became part of Ben and Dolly's marital bliss.


Purely fictional fantasy for your reading pleasure!

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