Who doesn't like Thanksgiving? Only Americans could have come up with a holiday devoted basically to gluttony. Turkey, stuffing, gravy, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie, and so much more—it was a day when all diets were off, and you just ate and ate and ate until you could eat no more.
Of course, there's also the pleasure—if it can be called that—of having family members, from parents to grandparents to aunts and uncles and cousins and everything in between, gather together for the feast. It didn't matter whether, in the ordinary course of events, you actually got along with all these relatives; on Thanksgiving Day you would at least make the pretense that you did.
Myra Jenkins enjoyed both of these aspects of Thanksgiving: food and family. For years she had summoned relatives from both sides of the family—hers and her husband Dennis's—to come over to their spacious house for the feast. In all honesty, she liked preparing the feast more than eating it—but she always glowed with pride when everyone else ate their fill and showered her with compliments.
She was forty-five years old, but looked ten years younger. And, if she did say so herself, she was quite a knockout. Truth be told, she thought her breasts in particular—large, round, and still firm even after two children had been suckled on them—were spectacular. That's why she wore a expensive white cashmere sweater while cooking: it showed off her bust splendidly, and the eager looks she—or, rather, her chest—received from the various males in the house convinced her that she had made the right decision in putting it on.
But it ended up causing her some unexpected problems.
As the dozen or more guests chatted away in the living room, Myra was puttering in the kitchen. There wasn't all that much more to do, since she had prepared many of the dishes earlier that day. But the turkey would take another hour or so to cook, so she decided to spend the time profitably by doing a little bit of advance cleaning up at the kitchen sink. And that's how she got into trouble.
Her hands soapy with dishwashing liquid, she suddenly noticed that her wedding ring had slipped off her finger—and as she heard it clattering down the drain, she was horrified at the thought that it had fallen into the garbage disposal. The thing wasn't turned on, of course, so there was no chance of the ring being ground up; but she definitely faced a delicate task in rescuing it. Reaching down the narrow drain, she thought she'd found the ring in the midst of the sharp, jagged teeth of the garbage disposal—but as she was about to pull the ring out, she found that she was stuck.
In fact, the cuff of her cashmere sweater had caught on one of those teeth.
Rolling her eyes, she thought: Can anything be more absurd? She didn't want to yank her arm out of the drain, for fear of tearing the fabric and essentially ruining the sweater. And she wondered whether she could even slip her other hand down the drain to release the cuff. It was going to be a tricky operation.
It was at this point that her twenty-two-year-old son, Jerad, sauntered into the kitchen.
Jerad, perennially hungry as he was, was looking for a little snack to tide himself over until the actual meal was served. When he saw his mom with her hand apparently stuck in the kitchen sink, he chortled.
"What's up, Mom? What are you doing?"
"Never mind that," Myra said sharply. "Just help me get my sleeve out of this thing."
Jerad approached her and peered at the drain. The matter was instantly clarified. But he made no effort to help his mom extricate herself.
You see, Jerad had an insatiable fascination with women's backsides. From the sloping shoulders to the arching back to the curvy bottom (especially the bottom!) to the back of the thighs and calves, this part of a woman's anatomy was to Jerad the pinnacle of female beauty. And he had long been aware that his mother had one of the loveliest backsides he'd ever seen.
And now he was gazing at that backside as she was stuck fast in the drain.
"Come on, Jerad!" Myra snapped. "Help me!"
But Jerad only smiled to himself. Continuing to gaze fixedly at his mother's posterior, he reached out and took hold of her hips. Then he pulled down her skirt to the floor.
Myra had been wearing only a thin wraparound skirt, since she knew the kitchen would be warm. When she realized what her son had done, she squawked: "What on earth are you doing, you little brat?"
That kind of language might have intimidated Jerad years ago, when he was a kid; but now that he was an adult, and a lot bigger and stronger than his mom, it had little effect. But even Jerad now paused as he saw his mother now bottomless except for some thin cotton panties covering her. Do I really have the balls to pull those down and expose my mom's derrière to my sight?
Yes, he did. In a trice he had peeled off her panties to her ankles, where they joined her skirt.
"Oh, you son of a bitch!" Myra spat. "You're going to get the spanking of your life for this!"
Jerad only chuckled. The idea of his mother—all of five foot six—trying to place a guy nearly six feet tall over her knee was laughable. The only question now remaining was whether Jerad would go the extra mile and do what he intended to do.
Even he—who'd graduated from college last summer and had taken pride in bedding down dozens of coeds in his four years there—was a tad intimidated at probing the innermost recesses of his own mother. And with all these people here too! But the funny thing was that the presence of those people actually helped him in his obscene endeavor: they were all yakking in the living room, quite a distance away; but Myra would have to remain quiet, lest she bring shame on the family by having all her relatives witness her son—
With a smirk, Jerad squeezed out some dishwashing liquid—the very substance that had, in a way, caused Myra's predicament—onto his fingers. Then he applied to Myra's anus.
When she realized what her own son was about to do with her, she was almost struck dumb with appalled horror. But she managed to hiss at him: "Don't you dare go back there, buster, if you know what's good for you!"
He'd done this a fair number times with other girls—but this was his mom we're talking about! He unzipped his fly and brought out his cock, which was already hard from the sight of that lovely bare ass. He had to scrunch down a bit to reach the chosen orifice, but it was only a matter of moments before he stuck it in there almost to the hilt.
Myra let out a huge gasp: she'd never let anyone do this to her before, even though any number of candidates—including her husband of many years—had begged her to. She never thought that the product of her own womb would be the first to enter that dark cavity. As she sensed his long, thick cock tunneling into her, she fell into a kind of brain freeze, hardly noticing Jerad reaching around her to grab her breasts and giving them a good squeeze. Of course, those luscious globes were covered with her bra and the sweater, but Jerad still got a good feel of them.
This had been going on for some minutes when Dennis—Myra's husband and Jerad's father—walked into the kitchen through the swinging doors that separated it from the dining room.
He stopped short as he saw his son goring his own mother through the back way. He pondered the situation like a professor examining a complex mathematical formula on a chalkboard. But in fact, it didn't take him long to figure out what was going on.
He walked calmly over to the thrashing pair, reached down into the drain and carefully detached the sweater from the tooth it was stuck on, and released the poor woman.
But, as Jerad was heedlessly continuing to pound away at his mom's bottom, Dennis blandly removed the sweater from over his wife's head. Jerad, catching on, unfastened the clasps of her bra, and Dennis pulled it off.
Now Myra was completely naked, except for the skirt and panties covering her feet. As she watched open-mouthed, Dennis unzipped his pants, took out his cock, and shoved it into her pussy.
You see, Dennis had long had the fantasy of having Myra receive just this sort of treatment—he'd heard it was called "double penetration," and the thought had inflamed him for years. Of course, he never imagined that it was his own son who would make up the second male penetrator, but he figured he'd take what he could get.
Myra just lay passive and submissive as the two men pummeled her from each direction, front and back. Jerad, who was delighted that his father was getting into the spirit of things, sensed that he couldn't hold out much longer. And sure enough, in short order he began sending long, thick streams of his come deep into his mother's rectum.
Myra did let out a little yelp as she felt that oozy substance fill her up back there, but then clapped a hand over her mouth so that no one else could hear. There actually wasn't much likelihood of that, since the noise of the assembled guests talking in the living room seemed to be getting louder.
Jerad pulled out of his mother's ass, his cock dripping with its emission. He was enjoying the spectacle of his dad pounding Mom from the other direction when Andrew walked in.
Andrew was Myra's brother-in-law—the husband of her younger sister Julia. Myra was keenly aware that, ever since he'd married Julia eight years ago, Andrew had made it abundantly clear from his lecherous glances that he yearned to have carnal relations with her. And now, as he saw the hubbub at the kitchen sink, he suddenly realized that the moment was unexpectedly at hand. Jerad gestured theatrically toward Myra's backside as if to say, "You're welcome to go in there, my man."
Andrew wasn't one to miss such a golden opportunity. He now unzipped his fly and, stroking himself to get hard, forged his way into Myra's anus.
Julia hadn't let him do this very often, and the prospect of entering this forbidden zone added to the zest of committing adultery with his wife's sister. Once again Myra had to face the indignity of double penetration—but now Dennis shot his wad into her vagina, so that left Andrew to pummel Myra by himself. He quickly grabbed her breasts and continued pounding her until he was close to coming.
At this point, Uncle Fred walked into the kitchen.
Fred was the brother of Myra's mom, and he had watched his niece develop over many years into a succulently beautiful female who provoked countless sessions of self-pleasuring. He was a widower, and at sixty-eight he hadn't had any intimate contact with a woman for quite some time.
So the sight of Myra naked, submitting to rear entry from her brother-in-law, made him realize that he could join in the action. In fact, Dennis, a little dizzy and unsteady on his feet after his climax, nodded briefly in his wife's direction, as if to say, "Feel free to take my place: it's open."
Fred unzipped his fly, brought out his cock (not very long, but quite thick), and plunged it into Myra's vagina. He heaved a sigh of pleasure: he'd almost forgotten what it was like to have his organ enmeshed in the warm, wet folds of a woman's pussy, and he pried one of Andrew's hands away from Myra's breast and grabbed it himself. As he'd suspected, it was one of the nicest breasts he'd ever felt in his life.
While this new round of double penetration was going on, Myra's daughter Sandra walked into the kitchen.
She was, admittedly, startled by what she saw: her mom getting it from both directions while her brother and father were standing by with their cocks hanging out of their pants. She was twenty and still in college; and aside from the fact that she vaguely sensed she might be bisexual, she had developed a compulsive yearning for male discharge. So she watched her great-uncle pound her mom lustily; and when he finished (he could last only a few minutes), she immediately took his place as he pulled out, fell to her knees, and began lapping up the miscellaneous come that was leaking out of Myra's twat and trickling down her thighs.
Sandra licked up all that come with relish, and also found pleasure in her first taste of pussy—it didn't matter that it was her mother's, it still tasted very nice. And when Andrew poured his seed into Myra's bottom, she brushed him aside and, probing her mom's anus with her fingers, coaxed out the jism that had accumulated there and let it pour thickly down her throat. She gave her mom's anus a few good licks to make sure she hadn't missed any last remnants of come.
Dennis had now stationed himself near the kitchen door, to make sure that no other females would come in. He'd been surprised that Sandra had responded as she had to the situation, but suspected that the other women in the house wouldn't be so accepting. But he needn't have worried: the females were happy to engage in nonstop discussion on all manner of subjects (mostly gossip about other members of the family), and hardly noticed that fewer and fewer men were in their midst.
In fact, the next person to enter the kitchen was none other than Myra's father, Conrad.
As he saw what was happening, he blinked a few times, licked his lips, and pondered. He too had lusted after his own daughter for many years—and even though both of her lower orifices were empty right now, he could tell what had just happened. So he ambled over to her and took out his cock.
Myra was hanging onto the kitchen counter, barely able to remain standing after the pummeling she'd received. When she saw her father approach her with the same carnal intentions as the other males, she heaved a weary sigh and said:
"Oh, Daddy, not you too?"
"I'm sorry, my dear," Conrad said in a deep, resonant bass voice. "This is too tempting to pass up."
But to her surprise, he made his way to her backside. His own wife—Myra's mother—had also never let him enter her anus, and he couldn't pass up the chance to do it to his beloved daughter. Meanwhile, Jerad had revived after witnessing all the other guys stuffing their cocks into his mom; so he came around to her front, saying: "I hope you don't mind, Mom. I just have to go into your cunt."
"Don't say 'cunt,' dear. It's not a nice word."
"I'll remember that, Mom."
Grandfather and grandson, with Mom in the middle—what a picture of love and devotion! They entered Myra simultaneously, and she had to admit that the sensation of double penetration—which, of course, she'd never experienced before—wasn't at all unpleasant. During the whole time the various men had plowed into her, she'd managed to come twice, so she was receptive to just a little more action.
It wasn't surprising that both men managed to come together, flooding both of Myra's orifices with their seed. They each gave her a final squeeze of a breast and a little peck on the cheek, and then they pulled out.
"Are you guys finished now?" she said in exhaustion. "I'd really like to put my clothes back on and finish preparing this meal."
The men murmured agreement. The energy they'd expended had stimulated their appetites, and they were more than ready for the big dinner that was to come.
The other women at the table did wonder why Myra seemed unusually silent, and why she kept staring daggers at the various males around the table. Julia and her mom, Francine, took up the issue in low voices between themselves.
"Myra seems a little out of sorts, doesn't she, dear?" Francine said.
"She also looks quite a bit the worse for wear," Julia replied.
"I wonder if something's the matter with her."
"That louse of a husband is probably not giving her enough, um, attention—if you catch my meaning."
"Julia! What a thing to say!"
"I mean it, Mom! You'd be amazed how much better you feel if you're getting regular sex. Poor Myra probably isn't getting any."
"I hope it's not as bad as that, dear."
They continued with their meal, keeping a close eye on their exhausted hostess.