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Two 'big girl' sisters have fun in barn with brother.

"I'm your mother, not your grandma."

Mario puckers up, holds his mother's bicep, leans in and gives his mother a long wet kiss. The kiss lingers, her full lips on his, both knowing it's crossed the threshold of paternal love, and neither caring, the two enjoying this deeply bonding -- erotic -- moment.

"Hmmmmm...pwah!" he says as he lets go. Mario holds the spray, shoots it at his privates, reaches over to the counter and holds up a small blue pair of briefs. He slips them on, a satisfying 'whack' as the waistband smacks his smooth clean skin. He places his left hand on his crotch, feels himself, mildly jerks.

"Save some for the taping," Marcella says.

"Oh I'll try," he says as he looks at his mother, her toned body glistening under the bathroom's lights. "I'll like to try."

***

Full Swap -- Pre-show

"Simply put, I love dick," she -- name flashes on screen: Carol -- says with a soft Scottish accent.

A bedroom, early afternoon, drapes fluttering with the breeze. Sitting by a dresser, Carol, a mature blonde woman, hair cropped to her chin, wearing a light pink bra with matching panties, stockings and heels. Carol applies blush to her cheeks. Reflected in the mirror, a teen boy, vest, shorts, holding a GoPro in his left hand, aiming it at his mother.

She brushes her hair while delivering her monologue. "I love big thick dicks -- though, saying that, I don't just love dicks. I mean, if I was just into having a big phallic dilly inside me, I'd be into anyone giving me a fuck. No, no, me, I love men. You know? Real men. Big hairy men. You know what I'm talking about, Tom. You've peeked in. You know just the kind of men I'm into."

We hear Tom rub his cloth-covered penis, his micro-camera shaking ever-so-slightly.

"Builders, working men. Just blokes, basically."

"Yeah." Carol grabs a sheer pink robe and slips it on. "You got it." Pause. "See, we're not the norm. We're chatting freely about cocks, and you're my son. I don't see any problem with that, just like I was so relaxed when I saw you peeking during my many shags. To me -- to us -- that's as normal as a lad climbing a tree or running after a ball."

"Part of growing up," he says as he continues to jack off.

"That you're having a wank while I'm in my knickers," she says as she adjusts her robe, "I take it as a compliment."

"No need for psychoanalysis," says Tom.

"Ai, it is what it is. Boys like ladies, and it just so happens you, my son, don't mind me with me kit off."

"Not in the slightest. Not. At. All."

Carol turns, smirks at the camera. "Now don't be trying to get saucy with me, Son. As you are well aware, I ain't into boys."

"Ouch," Tom says jokingly.

"So anyway." Carol stands. Tom focuses on his mother's ample derriere. She walks out the door, into a busy hallway. Men and women in plain black underwear are rushing back and forth, holding platters of finger food, pillows, lotions, dildos. Carol leans over the barrister. In the lobby, a woman lectures a group of underwear-clad teens, a stack of crates by their feet.

"So when one of my regular fellas took me to a swingers' club, well, it was like a whole new world had opened up. Cocks, cocks everywhere. More cocks than I could get through in a week!" Carol takes a right, comes to a room with an n-shaped sofa, a pile of cushions in the centre. Beyond, the open screen doors and the setting sun.

Carol places her finger on her chin, takes a sharp left to the drinks area, plastic cups set aside on the marble counter.

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