At the end of chapter one, Dawson was left at the bar as Lacey and Jen leave to freshen up

I watched them leave the bar area and then turned on my stool to grab the bartender’s attention. With Friday night college football on the bar TVs, I took in a few minutes of the Alabama game and sipped my drink, before slipping off to the men’s room. 
When I returned, I was a bit surprised to see that the ladies had yet to return. Shrugging to myself, I settled back onto my stool. 

A few minutes later my cell phone rang.

“Dawson?” It was Jen’s voice on the other end. “We decided we’re probably going to stay in for the evening. Why don’t you come up? Room 316.”

I laid my cell on the bar and downed the last of my Beam & coke in a long, single swallow. Throwing the bartender a twenty, I turned and headed towards the elevator. 

The Hyatt Place was relatively new and nicely appointed. I made my way down the royal blue carpeted hallway, arriving at room #316 about midway down from the elevators. I checked my zipper, tossed my hair and I knocked on the door. 

The door cracked opened wide to reveal Jen’s mischievous smile and freshly cleaned face. She looked extremely sexy standing before me in one of those luxurious white hotel robes; her dark hair still wet from the shower. I glanced over her shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of Lacey, but she was not in sight.

“So, you must be Lacey’s boyfriend,” she questioned, as if we had not met previously. “Were you expecting her? I’m her mother, Jen,” extending her hand. “You must be Dawson?”

“Uh...yes ma’am,” I stammered. My head fell, bashfully, but not one to squander an opportunity, my eyes soaked up the sight of her MILF form, as I did. The lapels of her terry robe plunged past her cleavage to offer me a quick, hot glance at way her breast sloped gracefully behind the soft fabric.

Jen reached out and firmly grabbed my wrist, pulling me through the entryway. I caught a whiff of her soapy-clean scent and just the slightest hint of arousing perfume. I just wanted to grab her shoulders and throw her up against the wall-- taking what I wanted most in the moment, but alas, I hesitated.

“Why don’t we go into the bathroom and have a little chat,” she said, guiding me immediately in towards the shower the moment my feet hit the foyer. Jen closed the bathroom door behind us and backed me up against the ledge of the vanity. Her facial expression was stern as her strikingly beautiful eyes-- aqua-green pools of mist-- made direct contact with mine, in almost a darting, piercing fashion. 

“Dawson,” she started, “did you just think you could show up here and fuck my daughter?”

My response was one of dismay, “Uh,” my voice cracked, “.no, ma’am, uh, I mean...”

“Don’t you think it more proper to make an introduction of yourself to her mother first?” 

I took her question to be rhetorical, as she cracked what appeared to be a calculated grin, as she traced her fingers down the front of my chest and grabbed hold of my belt buckle, twisting to allow it to loosen.

“Call me nosey,” Jen whimpered, momentarily casting her eyes downward, “but if someone in my family has a packaged delivered, I’m always curious to see what they’re getting.” She gave me a slight wink before adding, “Don’t you think that’s fair, Dawson?  Who knows? It might be something delicious!”

Jen drew the palm of her hand, up against my inflamed crotch, forcing me to prop myself, helplessly pinned, on the granite countertop. I closed my eyes; feeling a slight tug and the unmistakable sound of the zipper to my pants being lowered. Her fingers foraged through the opening in my pants; the warmth of her hand taking grasp of my underwear-clad penis.It felt like I was surprisingly trapped in the surreal fantasy of a teenage boy, secretly being molested by the mother of my girlfriend!

Jen cooed, as she rummaged through my toolbox. Quietly, taking a small step back, she loosened the tie to her robe, allowing it to fall open and reveal her wares. I stared directly at her gorgeous, 36C boobs, capped with taunt, light brown quarter-sized areolas and stiff nipples that protruded in my direction, like pencil erasers. When my gaze instinctively fell to her unshaven pubic bush, I thought my dick was going to explode. She looked amazing!

“I think maybe it’s best if we get you washed up,” she mused. “Why don’t you get undressed and I’ll start the shower.” Jen opened the shower stall door and reached for the handle, starting the stream of hot water.

I sheepishly lowered my pants to the floor, the swollen head of my prick strained to poke above the elastic waistband of my briefs as I bent over. 

Jen looked back from turning on the shower with an expression of impatience.

“Let’s go, young man!” she sternly demanded. “Don’t test me! I want to see you naked, right now!” Her tone, one as if she was talking to a teenager.

Jen’s eyes focused directly upon me as I pulled down my underwear. The edges of her mouth to turned up, slightly, as she watched all 6 inches of my erect cock spring free. Once my shirt was off, she walked over in front of me and peeled off the shoulders of her robe; her creamy white breasts bounced ever so slightly, sagging just enough to tell she wasn’t 25 years old. Her hands reached out and sensually caressed my pecs before she took my hand and led me into the shower. 

I watched as she picked up a bar of soap and began to lather it up in her hands. For some reason, my thoughts of where Lacey might be, had faded, as I stood on display, stark naked in a hotel shower with her mother.

“Let’s get this gun of your’s cleaned-up before you brandish it in front of my innocent daughter,” she teased, pressing a fingertip down on the end of my cock, and watching it jerk and quiver, in response. It seemed to excite her even more.

Artfully, she took the sudsy bar and lathered my balls, pulling out of my pole with long, slow strokes that culminated with rubbing her thumb on its purple head, massaging soap into the tip. I could feel my load beginning to roil as she worked her seduction. Jen turned me around to wash my back, and I felt her slender fingers work in-between the cheeks of my ass, slowly probing a soapy fingertip into my sphincter. Her invasion caused a noticeable spasm pleasurable, which Jen must have felt it too.

“Does that feel good, baby? When I massage that tense little asshole of yours?” Her questions were toned in a provocative whisper, as she prodded.

Jen slipped her middle finger past my defenseless hole, curling it around to stimulate my prostrate. Her free hand came around and gently stroked the length of my penis with the sudsy lather, making my knees quiver.  

“Ohhh, my God,” I moaned, reaching out to catch my balance against the shower wall. 

Jen guided me back to face her, then squatted down on her haunches bringing herself eye-to-eye with the end my throbbing organ.

The steam from the shower helped to set the scene before me. I gawked down at her perch in front of my exposed and vulnerable private parts, and watched as she began to have her way with me. This role-play of hers was, perhaps, one of the most sexually thrilling moments I had ever experienced. 

As the hot water splashed down off my shoulders, she artistically flipped the strands of wet hair from her face and spoke again.

“Let’s just make sure this thing is clean enough for my little girl,” she taunted before she immediately engulfed the head of my cock with her soft, warm open lips. I felt my immersion as Jen bobbed forward, letting the length of my cock slowly glide to the back of her throat. Her head lunged back and forth; her tongue coating me with her sweet saliva. At the end of her stroke, she paused and polished my swollen knob like an insatiable sugar-freak attacking a Charm’s blow-pop. I got the sense she really wanted the candy inside! 

Jen sucked dick like she did it for her livelihood! I began to think it was all going to be too much for me to endure, but I’m pretty sure Jen picked up on that sense. She tightly pursed her lip, and let the head of my member pop out of her mouth, then rose to her feet-- my cock sprung up to attention cutting a swath through the thick humidity. 

“That was wonderful, Dawson,” she whispered, throwing her arms around my neck and plunging her tongue into my mouth as our lips met.

“I expect my daughter’s boy-toys to be both obedient and respectful of her mother. I like that you seem to get that, Dawson.” 

Moments later, she took me by the hand and stepped me out of the shower. Grabbing a fluffy, white towel she gently dried me from top to bottom, She paid special attention to my scrotum, inflamed a bright shade of red from the hot shower. They swayed in the empty cavity between my thighs as she manipulated them with the towel; hanging low with the weight of my swollen testicles. Jen paused, gazing at them closely. She didn’t try to hide the fact that she enjoyed fondling them through the towel as she dried. Once complete, she scraped her fingernails across the underneath my sack. Her eyebrows raised, suddenly, as if to signal that she had stumbled across a new idea.

“Perhaps, we’d better shave the hair off these balls of yours before go any further,” she insisted. 

She instructed me to sit on the closed toilet seat while she left, briefly, returning with a razor and can of shaving gel. For the next five minutes, I sat and watched, as she erased all trace of hair-- leaving me everything below my penis, smooth and clean. 

My best guess is that Jen stood about 5’ 6”, maybe 130 lbs. She wouldn’t be called slender, but she was very attractive; slightly tanned with milky white bathing suit areas.  I couldn’t help but continue to admire her body as she stood up. Her nipples perfectly fit her breasts; thick and erect. She had that type of  “phat” ass that I simply craved. I’ve always been an ass guy and all I could think about was wanting to bend her over the bathroom sink and stretch out mommy’s pussy, right then and there, but I didn’t-- I couldn’t! 

Slipping out of the bathroom once more, she left me with a stern a warning to stay put. 

I stood there naked, taking notice of myself from a side view in the bathroom mirror. Reflecting back at me was a penis; fully lengthened, sticking out rigid, tortured, and inflamed. This mother and daughter duo had somehow teased me; mentally taken me back to my adolescence, and primed for a sexual mystery like none before. 

“Maybe,” I thought, “maybe I could ask Jen to just use her hand and let me spew my tension onto the bathroom tile? I could even do it myself, in front of her, if she’d let me.”  

It seemed for a brief moment like sound reasoning; however, her words about being ‘obedient and respectful’ rang through my head, deterring whatever conviction remained.

As that thought dissipated, Jen reappeared in the doorway wearing a sheer, black teddy that fell just past the top of her furred patch. In one hand, she confidently held a riding crop, in the other, a silk scarf of some sort. Her steely green eyes gleamed with the fire of anticipation. 

I watched her roll the scarf into a blindfold before she ordered me to turn around. The room went dark as she tied the scarf tightly behind my head, forming an abrupt knot. With my senses altered, I heard the clinking sound of metal and then, what felt like a leather strap being buckled around neck.

Click! 

It was the sound of something being clipped to a ring. 

“Jen had put me on a leash!” I manage to recognize this among a head with an imagination now spinning out of control!

She pulled me forward without saying a word-- demanding that I move in the direction in which she yanked the strap.

“Bend over!” she instructed. “Now spread your feet!” Jen’s tone was dominant. She was now in full control of whatever it was that was to take place in what remained of the evening ahead.

I bent at the waist as she directed and spread my feet. The air in the bathroom flowed freely between my legs, which heightened the sense of exposed vulnerability that I felt my genitals felt. Her hand felt distinctly cooler than my raging scrotum as she supported in her palm, while fondling my balls with her fingers.

She brought herself closer to my ear with another sharp tug of my leash. 

“Tonight,” she breathed, “I intend to breed you like my prize stallion!” 

Jen paused before continuing. My groin tensed, causing my prick to quiver as I concentrated on whatever would be her next words.  

“Do you understand me?” she queried. 

As I nodded in the darkness. 

Suddenly, I heard a loud snap and simultaneously felt the forceful crack of her riding crop against my naked butt cheek. 

Crack! 

My ass tightened instantaneously in response to the painful sting, but I choked back the urge to cry out.

Wssh-bick!

She marred my flesh again, this time with a vigor to ensure I was well aware that she was serious about her intent.

“Oh my God, Jen!” I yelped.

She continued to exert her position of authority with reinforcing words.

“I will guide you into the breeding stall tonight and you will obey my every command! Do you understand me?”

“Yes ma’am,” I whimpered.

I felt her hand slather my cock with an excess of lubricant, as she prepped my sex implement for my walk to the ‘breeding stall’, as she had put it. Jen traced her open palm along the underside of my greased shaft with several coaxing strokes, as she purred her encouraging approval in my ear. Then, she released tension on the leash and nudged my shoulder, guiding me back into an upright position. 

The sound of the bathroom door opening signaled that she had left me alone in the darkness. Mere moments later, she returned and abruptly pulled the strap attached to the collar. She guided me down and into a prone position laying across her lap. I imagined that she must have positioned herself seated on the toilet seat cover.

Her fingers explored between the crack of my ass, separating the cheeks as she did. Widely parted, I twitched to the jarring sensation of cold liquid pooling around the nerve endings of my exposed entry. With one hand, she took close grip of the leash near the collar in order to steady my head, while she guided some sort of hard, unyielding implement and pressed it against my hole.  of her desire towards the  

Realizing the inevitability of her desire, my body instinctually tensed. She pressed the issue against the guarded entrance of my quivering, defenseless grommet.

 Jen paused her advance, briefly.

“It’s important for a breeder to have control over the reflexive impulses of her stallion. A trigger, of sorts, that can be controlled. Relax,” she said in a more comforting tone. She released the pressure, for but a second, before reasserting her intention and pressed forward.

The hard probe pushed past the final, senseless objections from my body and slowly began to fill my anal cavity. The invasive sensations Jen was creating drove my erection to new heights, as my cock pressed against the supportive thighs of my captor. 

My bowels filled. uncontrollably, with the unfettered exploration of this sex toy. She completed the full insertion and I was reduced to letting out primal moans, as she angled the tool directly against my overly-stimulated prostrate.

“Oh shit, Jen!”  I erased all objection. “That feels so amazing!”

“That’s my stud!” Her praise felt somehow reassuring.  “Are you ready to perform?  To wield that horse dick the way I would expect from any of my stallions?”  

Her dirty talk continued to taunt me.

“When I take you to the breeding stable I want you to show me your stuff,” she teased, pulling slightly on the plug, tantalizing nerve-endings I hadn’t previously known existed. 

Pulling my arms behind my back, Jen secured my wrists together with what sounded like Velcro ties. They were flexible but definitely secure.

As she brought me to my feet, she swabbed her finger across the tip of my cock and, I can only imagine, brought a drop of my pre-cum to her lips.

“Mmmm,” she moaned, “that’s it, baby, give mommy a little taste of what we’re going to deposit my daughter’s precious cunt.”

She traced her wet finger across my lips and gave me a light kiss as she guided me out of the bathroom.