Daughter's Slut Training Collection 4

by Reed James

  Daughter's Slut Training Collection 4

  Daughter's Slut Training Collection 4

  Midpoint

  About the Author

  Daughter's Slut Trianing

  Collection 4

  (Three Incestuous Harem Stories)

  by

  Reed James

  Copyright © 2017 by Reed James

  Smashwords Edition

  Smashwords License Notes

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  All characters depicted in this work of fiction are over the age of eighteen (18).

  Cover Photo © Deklofenak | Wisky | shmeljov | Depositphotos.com

  Logo © Anton Brand | Dreamstime.com

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  Naughty Excerpt from “Daughter's Slut Training Collection 4”

  “No more stalling, Mom,” Faizel called, his voice so demanding. “Let me see.”

  I shivered and nodded. I stepped out, my breasts jiggling in my bra, to face my son waiting in the back of the store where the changing rooms were. It was private, the store understanding a woman might want to model for her lover. Or her son.

  At twenty, Faizel had a man's body and strength. He looked so much like my husband, minus the beard, with that same broad-shouldered build and muscular torso. Faizel had the strength to treat a woman right. The way my husband had in the first years of our marriage before responsibilities kept him working so much.

  “Very nice,” Faizel said, cupping my breasts right there in the store. The salesgirl, not much older than him, had a naughty smile as she watched my “young lover” play with my tits. The girl utterly approved.

  Would she still approve if she knew he was my son?

  My nipples throbbed in the bra. A tingle rushed through me down to my pussy. I grew even more molten as he licked his lips. His cock tented his jeans, straining to burst out of them. I sucked in a breath as he brushed my hard nubs with his thumbs, massaging them through the satin.

  “Ooh, that feels so good, Faizel.”

  “Good,” he grinned, licking his hungry lips. “It's good. But it's not enough. Try on the next one.”

  “Okay,” I said, loving the strength in his eyes. He wanted to see this. So I would give it to him.

  I slipped back into the changing room, carefully undressing then grabbing the hot-pink thong. I'd never worn anything like this. It felt so skimpy. I drew it up my legs, wiggling my hips as the cloth in the back nestled between the cheeks of my butt. I shuddered, my thick, black bush peeking out the sides of the panties in the front. I would have to shave my snatch like my daughter did to wear something like this.

  Although... It did look hot with my curly hairs peeking out.

  The bra was also hot pink. This one had straps but the cups were made of lace that would do nothing to hide my tits. I pulled it on, the color almost florescent against my tan skin. I felt like even more of a whore, my nipples peeking dark through the pattern, so hard and aching. The underwear made a mockery of my hijab.

  This was underwear my daughter should wear.

  I trembled and slipped out, my pussy drooling with excitement. I wanted Faizel to see me in this. I wanted his lusts to surge through him. He grinned when I stepped out. His eyes roamed my bountiful flesh as he let out a groan of enjoyment.

  “Turn around, let me see that ass in this,” he said.

  “Yes,” I groaned. “Mommy wants her son to enjoy her body.”

  “Such a body.” So much throaty passion in his words. “The hottest mom in the world.”

  His words made my excitement soar. I spun around, wiggling my hips. He smacked the exposed cheek of my ass. I gasped, loving the pain tingling through me. Then he squeezed both my cheeks, groping me, pulling apart my butt-cheeks.

  “I don't know, Mom,” he said. “You are so sexy in this. But is this the right one? Try on the nightie. Let me see you in that.”

  “Yes!” I purred, his fingers digging into my flesh, making me feel so wanton.

  I practically threw myself into the changing room, my hijab swaying about my shoulders. I took off my lingerie as fast as I could without damaging the delicious cloth. I would buy it all, no matter the cost. I had more outfits to try on. It would cost me almost all the money my daughter had made so far.

  But she and her two friends were whoring themselves out, and Mr. Myers, Kimmy's father, would pay so much to unknowingly pop his daughter's cherry. And with Leyla filming it all... Well, there would be more money coming in.

  I pulled on the baby doll nightie. It was sheer silk, a silvery gray. It cupped my breast, my dusky flesh bleeding through, my nipples so on display. This did nothing to hide them. The fabric felt so wonderful on me as it swayed down to my hips. The panties weren't a thong, but they were still cut narrow.

  And even naughtier, they had no crotch.

  There was a long slit in the gusset decorated by lace. I shuddered as I adjusted the panties on my hips and ass. I could see my black bush peeking through the slit. I ran my finger down the front, found the opening, and touched myself.

  “Come on, Mom,” Faizel groaned. “I need to see you in it.”

  To find out what happens next, read on!

  Mommy is a Slut Too

  Daughter's Slut Training 10

  (An Incestuous Harem Story)

  by

  Reed James

  Mommy is a Slut Too

  Mrs. Umayyah

  I shivered as I drew the satin panties up my dusky thighs. The red-purple hue of the fabric looked so decadent against my flesh. I groaned at the feel of it, my pussy so hot and wet. It slid over the curve of my rump as I stared at my reflection in the changing room mirror of Leonora's Treasure, the lingerie store in the mall. The cloth cupped my rear, some of the fabric sliding into my butt-crack. I shuddered. I'd never worn underwear so daring. These panties were clearly intended to be seen by someone else.

  By a lover.

  Matching the panties was the strapless bra cupping my large breasts into two wonderful mounds. The darker circles of my areolas peeked out the top. My tits jiggled with my every movement. I shuddered, my hijab framing in my lush and mature face. Wearing the symbol of modesty while clad in something so blatantly immodest had me trembling, my snatch clenching.

  Why was I so turned on?

  Because my eldest son, Faizel, waited outside of the changing room eager to see me in this. To ogle my flesh and approve the outfit for my “date” with young Carter tomorrow night.

  An entire night with another boy who wasn't my husband. A boy who'd pay for that privilege. It made me so wet. Made it so worth spending the money my daughter had made being a whore on these outfits. A little investment to make sure that my clients, my horny college students, would pay to fuck their MILF professor.

  Then I could repay the money I'd lost in online gambling. I was grateful my husband
did not pay attention to our finances, instead leaving the household management to me, his dutiful wife. I'd whore myself out as well as my slut daughter to make up the money.

  It would be such a shame once I refilled our savings. Part of me didn't want to give up my young lovers. But I wasn't a slut like my daughter. I was just doing this to fix my mistake. If my husband found out...

  He would throw me out. He would never understand.

  “No more stalling, Mom,” Faizel called, his voice so demanding. “Let me see.”

  I shivered and nodded. I stepped out, my breasts jiggling in my bra, to face my son waiting in the back of the store where the changing rooms were. It was private, the store understanding a woman might want to model for her lover. Or her son.

  At twenty, Faizel had a man's body and strength. He looked so much like my husband, minus the beard, with that same broad-shouldered build and muscular torso. Faizel had the strength to treat a woman right. The way my husband had in the first years of our marriage before responsibilities kept him working so much.

  “Very nice,” Faizel said, cupping my breasts right there in the store. The salesgirl, not much older than him, had a naughty smile as she watched my “young lover” play with my tits. The girl utterly approved.

  Would she still approve if she knew he was my son?

  My nipples throbbed in the bra. A tingle rushed through me down to my pussy. I grew even more molten as he licked his lips. His cock tented his jeans, straining to burst out of them. I sucked in a breath as he brushed my hard nubs with his thumbs, massaging them through the satin.

  “Ooh, that feels so good, Faizel.”

  “Good,” he grinned, licking his hungry lips. “It's good. But it's not enough. Try on the next one.”

  “Okay,” I said, loving the strength in his eyes. He wanted to see this. So I would give it to him.

  I slipped back into the changing room, carefully undressing then grabbing the hot-pink thong. I'd never worn anything like this. It felt so skimpy. I drew it up my legs, wiggling my hips as the cloth in the back nestled between the cheeks of my butt. I shuddered, my thick, black bush peeking out the sides of the panties in the front. I would have to shave my snatch like my daughter did to wear something like this.

  Although... It did look hot with my curly hairs peeking out.

  The bra was also hot pink. This one had straps but the cups were made of lace that would do nothing to hide my tits. I pulled it on, the color almost florescent against my tan skin. I felt like even more of a whore, my nipples peeking dark through the pattern, so hard and aching. The underwear made a mockery of my hijab.

  This was underwear my daughter should wear.

  I trembled and slipped out, my pussy drooling with excitement. I wanted Faizel to see me in this. I wanted his lusts to surge through him. He grinned when I stepped out. His eyes roamed my bountiful flesh as he let out a groan of enjoyment.

  “Turn around, let me see that ass in this,” he said.

  “Yes,” I groaned. “Mommy wants her son to enjoy her body.”

  “Such a body.” So much throaty passion in his words. “The hottest mom in the world.”

  His words made my excitement soar. I spun around, wiggling my hips. He smacked the exposed cheek of my ass. I gasped, loving the pain tingling through me. Then he squeezed both my cheeks, groping me, pulling apart my butt-cheeks.

  “I don't know, Mom,” he said. “You are so sexy in this. But is this the right one? Try on the nightie. Let me see you in that.”

  “Yes!” I purred, his fingers digging into my flesh, making me feel so wanton.

  I practically threw myself into the changing room, my hijab swaying about my shoulders. I took off my lingerie as fast as I could without damaging the delicious cloth. I would buy it all, no matter the cost. I had more outfits to try on. It would cost me almost all the money my daughter had made so far.

  But she and her two friends were whoring themselves out, and Mr. Myers, Kimmy's father, would pay so much to unknowingly pop his daughter's cherry. And with Leyla filming it all... Well, there would be more money coming in.

  I pulled on the baby doll nightie. It was sheer silk, a silvery gray. It cupped my breast, my dusky flesh bleeding through, my nipples so on display. This did nothing to hide them. The fabric felt so wonderful on me as it swayed down to my hips. The panties weren't a thong, but they were still cut narrow.

  And even naughtier, they had no crotch.

  There was a long slit in the gusset decorated by lace. I shuddered as I adjusted the panties on my hips and ass. I could see my black bush peeking through the slit. I ran my finger down the front, found the opening, and touched myself.

  “Come on, Mom,” Faizel groaned. “I need to see you in it.”

  A naughty thrill went through me to step out into the store and be seen in this whorish outfit. My entire body, minus my hair thanks to my hijab, were on display. I threw open the door, letting my son feast on my body as I strutted out, a harem slave here to please her lord and master.

  Hunger smoldered in my son's dark eyes.

  “Mom, you naughty slut,” he groaned. “You wear that like it was made for you.”

  “Mmm, are you sure?” I asked. “I'm not too old to wear something so... revealing?”

  “With those killer tits, Mom?” He licked his lips. “Let me see your ass in those panties.”

  I turned around, wiggling my hips. “My ass isn't too big?”

  “It's got just the right plumpness. Now bend over. Let me really enjoy it.”

  I shuddered, bending over, my hijab shifting, but it was wrapped tight about my head and neck. I felt so exposed. I knew he could see the slit in the panties' gusset. See my pubic hair. The wet lips of my pussy. He could tell how turned on I was and—

  “Faizel!” I gasped as he shoved two fingers into my pussy, penetrating in me deep. “You naughty boy.”

  “You're the one flashing your cunt at me, Mom,” he said, some of his boyish mischievousness in his voice. He pumped his digits in and out of my cunt, sending heat rippling through my body. I groaned and squirmed, his fingers feeling amazing in me.

  “I guess I'm naughty, too,” I groaned, my hips wiggling.

  I glanced to the right. The salesgirl just winked at me. The girl was a naughty thing. She didn't care that we were getting far, far too physical. Would she masturbate later to this? I groaned, my pussy clenching down on my son's fingers.

  I wanted the girl to know he was my son.

  “Ooh, yes, finger Mommy's pussy,” I moaned louder. “You came from there. I brought you into this world, and now you're giving me such pleasure.”

  The girl shuddered, licking her lips. Her cheeks were crimson. She heard me. It turned her on.

  Delight rippled out of my pussy. Faizel's fingers pumped faster and faster in me. He let out a throaty moan. His digits felt amazing in me. So thick. Almost as thick as his dick. Ooh, that would be amazing in me right now. Just filling me. I bet my son was so hard.

  He needed his mother to take care of him.

  Almost like he red my mind, Faizel acted. I let out a whimper as his jean fastener popped. His zipper rasped. With one hand, he worked to free his dick as he kept thrusting his digits into my pussy, stirring up his mother's cunt to such a naughty froth.

  “Damn, Mom, you are such a slut,” he groaned. “You want me to fuck you right here.”

  “I just want to satiate my son,” I moaned for the girl.

  Her eyes were fixed on us. She had to see how big Faizel's cock was, the size of his father's. I whimpered as he ripped his fingers out of my snatch. Then he pressed me forward into the door of the changing room. It was closed, latched. It held, rattling as he rubbed his cock against my hot cunt through the slit in the crotchless panties. My breasts heaved in the satin nightie, cool cloth rubbing hard nipples.

  I needed my son back in me. Where he belonged. I needed to feel his youthful passion ramming into me, giving me all the pleasure I needed. He thrust so hard i
nto me. I groaned, my back arching as his dick sank into me.

  My pussy clamped down on his dick.

  The salesgirl watched with hot eyes. Her hips shifted more, biting her lower lip as she watched the strength of my son fuck me. He drew back his cock and rammed into me again. The door rattled as his flesh smacked into my panty-clad ass. His dick buried to the hilt in me. Pleasure rippled through my body. My breasts jiggled in the nightie.

  “Yes, yes, yes fuck your mother!” I moaned. “Plow me, Faizel. Plow me so hard. You need this. My whorish clothing made you erect. Use Mommy's pussy to satiate yourself.”

  “Yes!” he grunted, pounding me so hard, his dick plunging over and over into me. “Fuck, Mom, fuck!”

  His balls smacked into my clit peeking through the slit in the panties. He stirred me to a froth. It felt so naughty feeling the panties on me. They should have been the last shield to protect my pussy from being seen and touched, from behind fucked, but these naughty pair let my son slam into me, violating my married cunt.

  And giving me such pleasure.

  Delight rippled through my body with every plunge. Friction burned in my pussy. It felt amazing. So wonderful. I groaned, shaking my hips, stirring his cock through me as he pumped faster and faster into my snatch. He filled me to the hilt with his cock over and over.

  The salesgirl watched, witnessing our incestuous passion.

  “Faizel!” I whimpered.

  “Cum, Mom!” he growled, so strong, so commanding. “Cum like a slut!”

  “Like your sister!” I howled as my orgasm exploded in me.

  “Yeah, just like her!” he growled while pleasure surged through me.