Date: Sun, 18 Jun 2006 23:14:31 -0400
From: James Branson <jimryyan@hotmail.com>
Subject: Bi Celeb - Andrew Fucks Bree part 2

See the first part for disclaimers.

Thank you to all the people who read the first part of this story and were
kind enough to comment. I'm sorry for the delay. I hope you're still
reading! Please send me your thoughts on future chapters, and what you want
to see.

---

Bree was a prim and proper woman. That's what good girls grew up to be. Not
whores, or sluts, like that unfortunate Edie. Bree knew that sex was wrong,
even when in marriage. She kept her beloved husband Rex at arm's length
until she felt she had to satisfy him to salvage her marriage. George - may
he rest in peace or rot in hell, depending on how Bree felt that day - was a
sad and basically asexual man. That suited Bree just fine, as sex was icky
and led to bad things.

So that's why Bree was so astonished to wake up to find her negligee
removed, her breasts exposed and her immaculately trimmed red bush inflamed
in the bright light of the late morning sun. Bree, her head pounding, soon
noticed the dried-up white stain on her thigh, and realized something bad
must have happened. Did she eat ice cream in bed? Did she misapply her
moisturizer? Or had she done what Edie liked to do and invited some random
barfly into her bed to pound her senseless?

Bree tried not to think about it. Danielle and Andrew were at school and
Bree had her usual routine. She was about to go to the local conservative
ladies who lunch meeting when she noticed an instant photo taped on her
bathroom mirror. She saw herself naked for the first time (good girls don't
look at their nude bodies in mirrors). Bree was secretly impressed with how
good she looked for a woman in her years of middle age, but the lewdness of
the photo, the way her legs were spread like she was a common street
whore...

Bree went about her business and went to the kitchen to prepare a small
lunch for herself. There, in her favorite drawer, she saw another photo.
This of someone - a man, by the looks of it - with his face buried deep into
her cunt. Bree knew she should be outraged - this was a violation! - but she
was instead confused and intrigued. The man looked familiar to her, the back
of his head, the shape of his bare shoulders. Bree began to feel her nipples
harden in her white sweater.

Bree went to clean Andrew's bedroom. She suspected he was behind this. He
must have hired someone to make her look like a whore. She rummaged through
his closet, and found a shoebox with "FOR MOM" scrawled on the lid.
Inside...photos of Andrew grinning into the camera, his impish face in
strong closeup. Photos of Andrew stripping off his shirt, flexing, showing
off his surprisingly muscular chest and biceps. Photos of Andrew pulling
down his shorts, showing a juicy, plump ass. Then photos of Andrew's pride
and glory - 8 fat, thick inches. Bree let out an involuntary moan at what
her son had between his legs. Rex was never anywhere near that endowed.
Andrew took after her side of the family. Finally, Bree saw Andrew's cock
positioned near her wet, enflamed pussy lips. She knew then that he had had
his way with her.

Embarrassment flushed through Bree, turning her body as red as her hair. Her
son. She had been intimate with her own son. How could he do that to her?
Yet there was also a sense of pride. Had she made her son turn straight? Was
this a sign from above that the relationship was pure, as she had helped her
son find the light?

Lost in her thoughts, Bree noticed a dildo placed beside the photos. Bree
assumed that was also for her. Bree wondered where that had come from, and
what parts of Andrew's or Justin's body it had been stuck in.

Disoriented, Bree sat down on her son's bed. She didn't want to think about
what had happened between them. She didn't want to question why she felt
such a lust for her own son, and why the images of a naked Andrew and Justin
writhing and pleasuring each other were flooding her mind today as well as
on previous days. She didn't want to imagine why she felt pride in what her
son had done to her.

She decided not to think at all. She'd done too much of that over the years.
Too much of caring about what was right and what other people felt. All she
sensed was the pure sexual energy coursing through her.

Without thinking, Bree ran the dildo up and down the crotch of her skirt.
Unzipping her skirt, she lowered the garment to the floor and sat on the bed
in her high heels, sweater, and her black panties. She slid the dildo
against the silk panties, whimpering at the object so close to her velvet
folds. After a quick inspection she found a small button on the dildo. When
pressed, a low but consistent humming sound emanated. Bree slid the
vibrating dildo against her slit and let out a very improper moan.

Bree began to fuck herself with the plastic penis which pulsated in her
hand. Her well-manicured fingers slid into her sweater, through her bra, and
she began to pinch and twist her nipples. Bree felt the first of many
orgasms. Bree felt alive for the first time.

>From another room, Andrew sat back and watched a large television. His pants
were lowered, and his fat dong spewed a fresh load onto his flat belly. He
greedily licked at his own soncum. The vision in front of him was taken from
the camera he'd installed in his bedroom. Footage of his mother masturbating
on her son's bed, to nude picture of her son. Andrew's plan was working. He
now had more ammo to use in his plans for Bree. He had her just where he
wanted her.

Neither Bree nor Andrew realized that the story had only just begun.