All the big publishing houses are not located in New York City. One of the biggest, Findley House, has its offices in a much smaller city, Denton, because its founder and chief stockholder, Paul T. Findley, wanted to be able to get off to the mountains or the seashore, without spending all his time traveling. As the company became more successful, due to the fact that it printed a good many books of a sexual and erotic nature, Findley House soon took over the entire sixth floor of the Palmer Building in downtown Denton.
In Paul Findley's spacious and luxurious office, best-selling books were born. Usually a book began as a germ of an idea in the sexually obsessed mind of Findley himself. The privacy he needed to come up with such ideas was assured by his secretary, sexy and attractive Mrs. Walters – Margo, who guarded his door like it was the entrance to Fort Knox. The only way anyone could get past her and into Findley's sanctuary, was by invitation from the great man himself.
When the idea for a book sprang from Findley's mind, it was carefully nurtured, or as some of his staff inelegantly put it, kicked around to see what it would do. When the idea was proven sound, which meant that Findley decided to do it, research was begun. Then a writer was selected to put it all together.
Not all ideas came from Findley. Of his stable of writers, one of them, Laura Stevens, was unique. She didn't need to have Findley hand her a project. She had a lot of sexy ideas herself. These she presented to Findley and was always successful in getting him to let her go ahead with them. Her previous four books, all best-sellers, were proof to Findley and everyone else, that her ideas were sound.
Needless to say that whenever Laura called on Paul Findley, his secretary Margo Walters, understood that her employer's invitation, as far as Laura was concerned, was a standing one.
So on this particular summer morning that was already filled with warm sunshine, Brian Overton and his mother were still in bed furiously fucking, after which she would get up and start making breakfast. Two blocks over, at the Baker residence, Dorothy Baker was having difficulty preparing breakfast for her and her son. She was naked and young Mark was playfully chasing his mother around the kitchen, grabbing her tits and feeling her cunt. While that was going on, four hundred miles from there in the city of Denton, Paul Findley, looking fit and handsome for a man of his years, smoothed back his grey hair and pulled in his paunch, as his secretary ushered in a very attractive young woman and said, "Mrs. Stevens, sir."
"Won't you sit down, Mrs. Stevens? The couch here is the most comfortable," said Findley, smiling like a man who was contemplating getting into her panties.
The young woman seated herself on the couch and when the secretary departed, closing the door behind her, she smiled up at him and said, "Really, Paul, must you be so formal? I know it's for your secretary's benefit, but she's nobody's fool. If she was, you wouldn't have her working for you, even if she is a good lay. I'm sure she realizes that I know as well as she does, how comfortable this couch is. You've had me sprawled out on it often enough, with my panties on the floor and my dress up around my neck. And her too, I'm sure."
Findley grinned at her and seated himself beside her. His arms went around her and he kissed her fully on the mouth. The young woman's arms entwined about his neck and when one of Findley's hands moved up between her legs, she opened them wide. The gesture wasn't ladylike, but one that Findley appreciated.
"You don't have any panties on, Laura," he said in a near whisper.
"Panties only get in the way when I come to see you to discuss business," Laura replied.
"Your panties never get in my way," said Findley. "How do you find married life?"
"I'm not sure I ever did find it, thanks to you," said Laura with a mischievous smile. "I'm married to one of your valued photographers, whom you keep sending out on assignments that keeps him away for weeks, even months at a time, so that I'm alone in bed every night. But I'm never alone in bed, am I, you horny old devil? When I am alone in bed, you crawl into it with me, which is why you keep sending my husband off to Madagascar or some such place. In the three years I've been married, you've fucked me more than my husband has – a lot more!"
Findley grinned at her. "How can you say that? I haven't seen you in a whole month. Where in the hell have you been?"
"I told you, when I phoned."
"You told me you had a good idea for another book, that when you had it finished it would be another fabulous best-seller and make even more money than the previous one did. Does that have something to do with why you haven't been home, and I haven't seen you for a whole month?"
"Exactly," said Laura. "I've been looking into things, and I've come up with some great facts."
"Your last book had some pretty good facts," said Findley, looking quite pleased. "It's a good thing you were able to prove everything you said, with all those women's groups raising so much hell. I can't blame them though, the way you exposed their secrets. After everyone read the book, they had the feeling that every wife is getting laid when her husband isn't home."
"Well, why shouldn't they be getting laid?" asked Laura. "They're only doing the same thing their husbands are doing. Their husbands don't pass up any pussy that comes their way. Why shouldn't a wife enjoy a stiff cock whenever she gets the chance?"
"It's supposed to be her husband's stiff cock she's enjoying," said Findley.
"That's just the trouble," Laura replied. "Quite often her husband's cock isn't stiff, when she wants it. And after they've been married for some years, it's hardly ever stiff. It gets hard quick enough for some other man's wife, but not for her!"
"I know. I read your book. There aren't many wives who are being faithful to their husbands, are there?"
"And there aren't any husbands who are being faithful to their wives," Laura told him. "That's what equal rights for women is all about. A woman has as much right to fuck other guys, as her husband has to fuck other women."
"And it works out great for us," said Findley. "We sold tons of books to men who wanted to find out what their wives are doing while they are at work, and tons more to women who wanted to find out what you told about them."
"This next book will cause an even bigger stir," Laura assured him. "It's another expose."
"On what?"
"Incest."
Findley looked at her intently. "You're kidding."
"Why would I be kidding?"
"Well hell, what's so fabulous about that? Incest isn't a shocker anymore," said Findley. "Everyone knows there's some of that going on, and has been all along."
"I didn't say it was something people just started doing," Laura informed him. "That's what the book will be about, letting people know there's a lot of it going on, and that it's been going on for ages. Not everybody realizes that. How did you find out it's been going on for a long time?"
Findley grinned. "Well, as a matter of fact, my first piece of ass was with one of my sisters. We fucked every chance we got, until one day my other sisters caught us doing it and they wanted in on it too. So from then on I was fucking all four of them and I was sure kept busy. As we got older we all got married, but that didn't stop the girls from letting their brother throw a fuck into them, whenever their husbands and my wife weren't around. And I'm fifty-eight, so you know how far back that goes!"
"And you think that wouldn't make a terrific book?" Laura gasped.
Findley shrugged. "Well, maybe it would!"
"Damned right it would," said Laura. "What if our research proves that one out of every five women got her first piece of ass at home with her brother?"
"Yeah. That would do it!"
"But brother and sister sex is only a part of it. What I plan to do is a series of books, sex between brother and sister, niece and uncle, nephew and aunt, and between teenage girls and their fathers. But the first book I want to do in the series, is about young men having sex with their mothers. You wouldn't believe how much of that is going on."
"You think so?"
"I know so," said Laura with enthusiasm, "and I've found a place, a small town, where mothers are really into it with their sons."
Findley looked interested. "Go on."
"The town is Tuttleville," said Laura, "and the women there seem like the most pure-minded, upright, righteous, high-principled, decent and moral people you could ever imagine. Like they never had an impure thought in their minds. You'd think there wasn't any extramarital sex going on at all, because these women, those between the ages of thirty-five and forty-five I mean, don't fool around with other men. A woman there doesn't have some guy sneaking into her house and giving her a little while hubby is at work, like women in other places do."
"Sounds great," said Findley. "But where's the material for a book?"
"I'm coming to that," said Laura, "and believe me, I'm not imagining it. I've seen some things while I was there, enough to know that the facts are there and I can get them."
"You've seen what things?" asked Findley.
"I've seen boys in that town, at least half of those in their senior year of high school, go straight home as soon as school is out in the afternoon," said Laura. "Each of those young men is fucking his mother for a good two hours, until she has to get up and get supper started, before her husband gets home from work. Those boys are fucking their mothers more than their fathers are. And now that school is out for the summer, each boy and his mother must be fucking like crazy, from the time the kid's father goes to work, until he gets back home at night. Is it any wonder that not one of these women is sneaking off with some guy to get laid? Why should she? She's getting all the cock she wants, right in her own home. And who would ever suspect that she has a hot thing going with her own son?"
"How'd you get on to this?" asked Findley.
"I was staying in a motel one night," said Laura, "and I met this traveling salesman in the bar. We went back to my room and he spent the night with me. We fucked and talked, then talked and fucked. The one thing we didn't do that night was sleep. And during one of the times when we were talking, instead of fucking, this salesman said something that really got me to thinking. A salesman always finds plenty of cunt when he's on the road, and so did this one. But not in Tuttleville. In that town he couldn't find a piece of ass to save his soul. In other places he could always search out some bored and lonely housewife who was hot and ready to screw, but not there. All the good-looking women in Tuttleville seemed to be well taken care of, were so satisfied they weren't about to make it with a stranger passing through town."
"Well, I'll be damned!" said Findley.
"You think that wouldn't make a good subject for a book?" asked Laura.
"Maybe," said Findley, "Depends on what else you've got."
"There's more," said Laura. "The next morning after the salesman left, I stayed on in that motel for another night, because the one thing I didn't get when that salesman was in bed with me, was sleep."
"Was that in Tuttleville?" asked Findley.
"No. The motel I was staying in was in a college town, about three hundred miles from Tuttleville," said Laura. "I slept until noon and when I was walking past the desk on my way to the restaurant they have there, an attractive dark-haired woman in her middle or late thirties, was checking in. I heard her tell the desk clerk she was from Tuttleville. That rang a bell with me, because of what the salesman had told me about the women in that small town."
"So what happened?" asked Findley.
"Well after she checked in, she came into the restaurant and I made it a point to get acquainted with her. We had lunch together," Laura told him. "She said she was Mrs. Hugo Overton and she asked me to call her Mary Anne. Her husband owns a business in Tuttleville that keeps him on the road a good deal of the time. Her twenty-year-old son Brian was attending college in town. Mary Anne had flown up from Tuttleville to spend the weekend with him."
"Then what?" said Findley.
"We sat there talking until it was around three o'clock," said Laura. "As discreetly as possible I was learning all I could about her, her husband, her son, and about others in Tuttleville. It was Friday and when it was about time for classes to be out, Mary Anne got into her car, a rental she'd got at the airport after she got off the plane, and went to pick up her son."
"Go on," said Findley, "Maybe this story will get interesting. It hasn't, so far."
"I'm coming to the good part," Laura assured him. "And stop being such a grouch, or I'll make you take your hand away from my pussy."
Findley laughed. "You're so hot and wet between your legs, you won't make me do that."
"It's not your hand that's turning me on," Laura assured him. "I'm remembering what I saw that day. That would make any woman hot!"
"Well tell me what you saw, for God's sake," Findley replied.
"Mary Anne picked up her son at college and brought him back to the motel," said Laura. "I saw them get out of the car and go into her room together. That was around four o'clock. They didn't come out until after eight that night. They had supper in the restaurant, and it was dark outside when they finally got up and went back to the room."
Findley sighed. "Are we getting to the good part now?"
"Damned right we are," said Laura. "I went around to the back of the motel, hoping I could look in their window. Luck was with me, because they hadn't closed the drapes on the back window. I suppose they knew there wasn't anything back there but trees, or maybe it was because they were so interested in each other when they came in, they didn't think of it."
"Go on," Findley urged.
"The first thing I saw were two double beds," said Laura, "and that was very interesting. It gave me some idea what the boy and his mother had been doing together, when they were alone in there for four hours, before they came out for supper. Only one bed was messed up, the bedspread and cover pulled back, I mean. The other bed was still neatly made up and Mary Anne's open suitcase was sitting on it."
"That doesn't mean anything," said Findley. "Maybe Momma took a nap, while the boy spent his time reading or watching TV."
Laura gave him a contemptuous look and laughed. "I didn't waste any time getting around to the back of that motel," she told him. "I started back there while they were still in the restaurant, paying for their meal. I was watching through the window when they came through the door. The boy, Brian, closed and locked it. The window facing onto the parking lot had the drapes drawn across it, but luckily for me they didn't even glance at the rear window, the one I was looking through, or they might have thought to close those drapes too. But they had other things on their minds. Brian had an obvious hardon. The front of his slacks was sticking out like a tent. His mother looked at it and smiled. I couldn't hear what she said to him, but she put her hand on her son's bulge and caressed it. Then they were in each other's arms, hugging and kissing, and Mary Anne rubbing her cunt all over her son's bulge."
"Wow!" said Findley, now convinced that Laura was on to something.
"When they broke apart, Brian unzipped the back of his mother's dress and took it off for her," said Laura. "She kicked off her shoes and while she stood there in just her bra and panties, her son stripped off his clothes. You wouldn't believe the cock that kid had on him, Paul. I thought you had a big one, but this kid's hammer would put yours to shame!"
"That's no way to talk to your boss," said Findley. "Get on with your story. What happened?"
"Mary Anne was as thrilled with the sight of her son's cock as I was," said Laura, "even though she'd seen it before and I hadn't. She'd probably seen a lot of it during those four hours they'd been in that room alone together. More than just seen it. She likely had it up between her legs too. Maybe in her mouth as well."
"Stop speculating," said Findley. "Tell me what you saw."
"Well what I saw was Mary Anne grab hold of her son's pecker and play with it. I thought she was going to jerk him off. It was sticking straight up like a bar of steel. God, what a beautiful sight! Then her son pulled her into his arms and laid a hot passionate kiss on her. When they finally came up for air, he took off her bra and kissed both her tits. Then he pulled down her panties and kissed her right on her cunt."
"Affectionate sort of a kid, wasn't he?" said Findley.
"They stood there with their arms about each other, then the kid's hands moved down until he had a hold of his mother by the ass and he pulled her tight against him. Mary Anne wriggled her hips and rubbed her cunt all over her son's stiffly erect cock. It was something to see, believe me."
"Then what?" Findley asked anxiously.
"I didn't have long to wait, for the action to begin," said Laura. "Mary Anne got onto the bed, lay on her back and spread her legs wide apart. Her son got onto the bed and crawled up between her thighs, and I could see his enormous cock aimed right at her crotch. He didn't have any trouble finding the right place to go in, probably because he'd been in there so many times before. He worked his cock right up into her, all the way to his big hairy balls. I'm ashamed to say this, but I had to come and soaked the crotch of my panties, just watching them. Here was a twenty-year-old kid, fucking his mother!"
"My God!" Findley breathed.
"And I mean he was really fucking her," Laura said excitedly. "His mother brought her legs up and locked them around him. With her arms entwined about his neck, she pulled him down to her and kissed his face all over. Brian was pounding it to her like it was the greatest thing that ever happened to him, while his mother wriggled around beneath him like she was going crazy. You should have seen the ecstatic look on her face, like she'd never had it this good with anyone else."
"It's a great story," said Findley. "It's a shame you can't prove it."
"You think I can't?" said Laura, grinning at him. "I had my camera slung over my shoulder, because I never go anywhere without it. And it was loaded with special film, so I can take pictures at night without a flash. I started clicking away, and Brian and his mother never knew a thing about it."
Findley looked delighted.
"I've got pictures of Brian on top of his mother," Laura told him. "Then of her on top of him, moving her ass up and down on her son's cock. Then of them doing it doggy fashion. And two positions in which they're lying on their sides, one with them facing each other, and one with him pressed up close behind her. God, that kid and his mother knew more ways in which to fuck!"
"Splendid!" Findley said, beaming. "Are they clear shots?"
Laura looked like she'd been insulted. "Clear as crystal," she said indignantly. "Every shot I take is clear and sharp. You know that."
"Okay, okay. Don't get huffy. I wasn't casting any aspersions on your photographic expertise," Findley assured her.
"Your apology is accepted," said Laura. "But wait'll you see the pictures I took after that. You wouldn't believe what they did, before they finally settled down to sleep, about three in the morning."
"Well, tell me!" said Findley impatiently.
"Mary Anne got onto her knees by the side of the bed, with her head and shoulders resting on the mattress and her ass sticking out at her son. He took a moment to smear a lubricant all over his cock, and then dabbed a little into the crack of his mother's ass. Then he got onto his knees behind her, positioned his cock, took a firm grip on her hips – and went up her bumhole! I couldn't believe how much his mother was getting off on it. Even I got off, just watching them, watching this kid fucking his mother in the ass!"
"And you got pictures of that?" said Findley breathlessly.
"I've got a picture of every inch he went up her ass," said Laura. "And pictures of every ecstatic expression on his mother's face."
"And pictures of everything else they did?"
"I've got pictures coming out my ears," said Laura. "Thirty-six shots to a roll, and six rolls. A roll of film for every position in which that kid fucked his mother."
"Where are they?"
"Locked up in a very safe place. Don't worry about me leaving stuff like that lying around."
"Okay, I'm convinced," said Findley. "I want you to run with this. What will you need to get into it?"
Laura smiled. She knew she would talk Findley into it. "I need a generous expense account," she said. "And I need an advance, to cover the time I'm on research and then writing the book. Just like last time."
"Okay. You've got it," said Findley. "But I don't want idle speculation. I want proof of everything you claim in your book, to protect us from the lawsuits that are going to come at us."
"You'll get it," Laura promised him. "Wait'll you see those pictures. You won't worry about anything after you've seen them. That kid put on a superb performance."
Findley chuckled. "He reminds me of myself, when I was his age."
"Wh-what do you mean?"
"One night my old man was out to his lodge meeting. My four sisters were at summer camp and my mother went to bed early. I don't know how in hell I ever got up the nerve, but I tip-toed into her bedroom, bare-assed naked, and got into bed with her. She was sound asleep. I lifted up her nightie, crawled up between her legs and started pushing my hard cock into her pussy. Mom must have figured in her sleep that the old man had come home and was trying to get a little. She moved around, wriggled this way and that, and I went right up in there. She didn't wake up until I had it in as far as I could go."
"Good heavens!" said Laura. "What did she do?"
"What could she do? I was in her too deep for her to uncunt me. And I had a firm hold on the cheeks of her ass. Besides, it was already too late. I was in her. And I suppose Mom realized it was feeling pretty good. So the only thing she could do then, or wanted to do, was make the most of it. Her legs came up and she wrapped them around me. She put her arms about my neck and pulled me down so that my chest was almost flattening those luscious boobs of hers. She got her mouth onto mine and laid a kiss on me like I'd never had before. Her tongue went up into my mouth and did a little dance in there."
"No wonder you're a dirty old man," said Laura with a laugh. "You started out as a dirty young man. You enjoyed screwing your mother, didn't you?"
"Did I! That was the greatest thing that ever happened to me," Findley told her. "I thought I'd been having a good time screwing my sisters, but fucking my mother that night was sensational. Damn, we fucked for over two hours, until we heard the old man's car pulling into the driveway. Then Mom leaped out of bed, grabbed up her nightie and beat it into the bathroom. She had to wash up, I suppose. God knows her cunt was full. I'd shot off my load four times and had my come all over her pussy, her legs and her belly. I was back in my own room before the old man came in the front door."
"Was that the only time you were naughty with your mother?" Laura asked.
Findley gave her a big grin. "She let me think it was going to be, for almost a week. Maybe she figured if she really worked me over that night, I'd get her out of my system and behave myself after. But it didn't work out that way. I wanted her more than ever, and the funny thing is, she wanted more of me too."
"That's not surprising," said Laura.
"She had a way of letting me know when she was in the mood for it, by the way she'd smile at me, and by being loving and affectionate. Just like my sisters did."
"God, what a time you had around home," said Laura. "Five hot females after your cock."
"Somehow I managed to keep them happy," said Findley with a far off look in his eyes. "But you know, my sisters never did find out I was fucking Mom. And my mother never realized I was screwing my sisters."
Laura laughed. "I guess that was good training, for your later business deals. You keep everybody happy, without one knowing about the other. And you always get what you want."
He pulled her back into his arms. "And there's something I want right now!"
"Not here," said Laura, taking his hand from between her legs. "It makes me nervous fucking on this couch, with your secretary right outside that door. Let's go to my place."
"You sure? I've been to your house so many times. Won't your neighbors wonder about you having a guy there when your husband isn't home?"
Laura laughed. "Thanks to you, my husband is away so much, my neighbors think you are my husband!"