Message-ID: <25139asstr$963321011@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
X-Original-Path: not-for-mail
From: Butt Booger <dirtnap@altavista.com>
X-Original-Message-ID: <8kelqg$qfe$1@nntp9.atl.mindspring.net>
Subject: {ASSM} His Father's Son Part II, by Shakespeare_I._Aint (D/s, m/F, incest, humiliation)
Date: Tue, 11 Jul 2000 09:10:11 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2000/25139>
X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Moderator-ID: english, IceAltar
Copyright (C) 1998, Shakespeare_I._Aint. ALL Rights Reserved
This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit, or on another website
without the written permission of the author. The author may be contacted by
writing mrdouble@mrdouble.com or mrdouble@ix.netcom.com.
Original posting date:
Friday September 18, 1998
A Resident Author story from MrDouble's archive,
File: hfs2.txt from hfs2.zip
http://www.mrdouble.com
Text Filename: hfs2.txt
Zip Filename: hfs2.zip
Story Name: His Father's Son Part II (D/s, m/F, incest,humilation,anal)
His Father's Son Part II, by Shakespeare_I._Aint (D/s, m/F, incest,
humiliation)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Repost or archive at will with title intact and author credit. No further
permission needed.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Warning: Do not read this if you are under 18 years of age, or you have strong
feelings about the subject matter.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Comments encouraged and appreciated to: Shakespeare_I._Aint@mailexcite.com or
the newsgroup a.s.s.d. (alt.sex.stories.digression)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part 1: In part one of His Father's Son by Shakespeare_I._Aint, Jack Hornher
confronts his divorced mother after she picks up a stranger at a bar and brings
him home for sex. Jack takes advantage of his Mother's penchant for
humiliation to their mutual satisfaction. If you want to read part one, go to
deja-news or Mr. Double.
--------------------------His Father's Son Part II--------------------------
Sixteen year old Jack Hornher refastened the faux shutters to the brick in the
front of his home and stepped back to survey his work. He had repainted the
shutters a Kelly green. Yes, they looked fine; almost brand new.
The house as a whole was shaping up nicely. After years of neglect, the lawn,
landscaping and facade of the simple, ranch-style home had suffered. Now,
after Jack Hornher and his Mother, Susan, had moved in, the work was getting
done.
Jack picked up his tools and walked back to the two car garage behind their
home. In the last week he had mowed, weeded, fertilized, and edged the lawn;
and trimmed back the overgrown shrubs. The past few days he had been working
on the appearance of the house itself. He had repainted the front entry door,
as well as rescreened the ancient, torn screens. Jack was feeling happy about
himself. He had learned and done his work well. Already two sets of neighbors
had come and introduced themselves to Jack and his Mom. All had praised the
work done on the home since they had taken occupancy.
Jack heard the sharp buzzer of the dryer in the basement. Another load of
clothes done; ready to be folded and put away. So different from the old life
they had with Sterling Hornher, Jack's Father. They had a maid--not a live-in
maid mind you--but Jack's clothes had always magically appeared in his drawer
and he never considered the effort it took to do laundry.
It was late on a Friday afternoon and Jack was waiting for a phone call from
his Mother. She would tell him if she was coming home for dinner or going out
with her friend and confidante, Hyacinth Green. If she was coming home, Jack
had a steak and a tossed salad to offer his mother after another long day at
the title company. If she went out with Hyacinth she had better come back a
little bit drunk, and in the mood for some sex.
All work and no play was making Jack a dull boy. A dull, horny boy.
A dull, horny boy with the key to his mother's footlocker in the bedroom
closet.
Six days ago, Jack had humiliated his mother after she returned home from a bar
with a man. She had bedded the guy and Jack had been there to watch from the
secrecy of her closet. After the gentleman caller left, Jack was there to pile
on the guilt and shame. He had been able to take control of the situation and
had bedded his Mother; spending himself inside her mouth.
Six days had passed, with virtually no mention of that lusty night. Susan
Hornher rose each morning to go to work, and came home each night to dinner and
some odd jobs involving their new home. She had only mentioned the night once.
While eating dinner on Monday night, she had blurted out that she didn't want
him in her "vagina". Stunned, Jack could only murmur acceptance of her demand.
He hadn't even asked why. By the time he formulated a defense, Susan was gone.
The phone rang.
Susan Hornher waited nervously for her son, Jack, to answer the phone. Her
workweek was over and she and Hyacinth were going to start the weekend right by
heading out for dinner and drinks. A part of her desperately wanted to go with
Hyacinth for a normal divorced mother activity. The other part of her wanted
Jack to order her to come home now.
After almost a week, Susan still didn't know how to feel about the night Jack
caught her fucking the man she had picked up. The fact that Jack knew the key
to her sexual pleasure, the humiliation and embarrassment she craved, was
unsettling to her. The idea that her son had laid his penis in front of her
face and told her to suck still sent a charge through her just thinking about
it. Her son. She had sex with her son. And she had come repeatedly. Like a
little whore. A slutty, little whore. With her ex-husband's old trick, a beer
bottle wedged up her vagina. What a Mother. The intervening days had passed
quickly for Susan. She watched Jack closely to get an idea of how the
experience had affected him. But Jack seemed occupied with getting their home
fixed up. He was his normal quiet, confident self. She caught herself looking
closely at him while he worked. Jack was a tall, slim good looking young man,
she realized. Capable of doing a man's work. She blushed at the th ought.
While she waited for Jack to answer the phone, she still didn't know what she
really wanted him to say.
Jack stared at the phone wildly as it rang. He collected himself and then
answered after the fifth ring.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Jack. It's me," Susan said. "How's things going?"
"Pretty Good," Jack answered. "I've got the shutters back up and they look all
right." Jack waited.
"Oh, that's nice, I can't wait to see them," Susan offered. "Listen, Hyacinth
and I were thinking about going out tonight for a bite to eat. Is that
okay--will you be all right by yourself for a few hours?"
"I'll be fine," Jack answered glibly. "I've still got some stuff to do in the
basement before I arrange the basement furniture. You just go out and catch
some young stud. If I'm sleeping when you get home, I'll see you tomorrow."
"Jack, I'll be home in a few hours, before 10:00 I bet. It won't be like last
week," Susan protested, feeling like she was asking permission from her sixteen
year old son.
"What won't be like last week?"
"That I had too much to drink and brought Bill home," Susan confessed guiltily.
"Mom, you're a grown woman in your own home. You can do what you want. You
need to get out and enjoy life. Just do better than a "Bill" and you're
already ahead of the game."
"Well...they're not beating down the doors to get at me, Jack," Susan said
mournfully.
"You go out and have fun. I'll see you later, okay?" Jack wanted his mother to
enjoy a little nightlife but he was damned if he was going to boost her
confidence to go shag some guy she met in a bar. They rang off.
Jack prepared a few hamburgers for himself before tackling his next project,
the dusty, basement of the home. It was a fairly nice basement, although it
had been "finished" back in the early seventies; with the green shag carpet,
dark wood paneling, and a curtain of beads which separated the main area from
the basement laundry room. The basement also contained a fairly nice dry bar
with mirrored shelves on the wall behind the bar, and a place for a small
television up in the top corner near the ceiling. The basement was dry but not
musty, and fairly warm. Jack spent three hours down there, sweeping, mopping,
and wiping down the walls, while juggling his laundry schedule. After the
cleaning, the basement seemed more comfortable, and Jack started to arrange the
furnishings they had brought from the old house. While he worked, he pondered
the question of whether he could reasonably expect to lay his Mother when she
got home. And more importantly, whether he should have some "game" prepared
for her. He couldn't handle the thought of preparing for sex, and being
rejected. It would be psychologically crushing to him. To go into her closet
and unlock the footlocker which held the lingerie and sexual implements from
her married life, only to have his advances turned away would be devastating.
It would be like saying that he wasn't a man, and that his Mother would rather
go without than have him staking his claim to her sexual favors.
Jack writhed in an agony of indecision while he worked. He finally decided
that the safest course of action was inaction.
At 9:30, Jack finished his work in the basement. He looked at the completed
job. The sofa, loveseat, walnut tables, and recliners from the large family
room of the old house had been relegated, for lack of space, into the basement
of the new home. The expensive furniture looked incongruous placed amidst the
seventies motif of the basement, but there was no help for that. Jack had
arranged a comfortable, though uninspired, conversational grouping near the
bar. At 9:35, he mixed himself a gin and tonic from the liquor cabinet
addendum he had placed at the bar. Ice from the small fridge at the old home.
Just like Downtown, he thought merrily. He waited for something to happen.
At 10:00 p.m. the front screen door opened. Jack could hear his Mother
speaking. Had she brought another man home? Jack heard the reply. A feminine
voice. Must be Hyacinth.
Susan Hornher let herself in and held the door open for Hyacinth Green, her
closest friend. She and Hyacinth had a good buzz going from the large drinks
at the restaurant/bar in the Flats. Hyacinth had scored again; her looks and
personality winning her a date later on a real-estate developer's boat. It was
the damnedest thing, and exasperating for Susan to see how easy it was for
Hyacinth to pick up a man.
They had both been seated at a small table, having drinks when they had been
approached by two well-dressed men in their thirties. Both reeked of success.
They asked if they could sit down and buy drinks for the ladies. Hyacinth,
never one to pass on an opportunity to drink for free, had them sit themselves
down. She controlled the conversation immediately.
Don and Rich,(and he certainly looked rich), had the easygoing confidence of
successful white males in their prime. Their casual clothes were expensive and
accessorized manfully by the watches and gold bracelets on each man's right
hand. Effortless, understated elegance and style.
Rich and Don freely admitted their divorced status. Rich developed real
estate; Don owned six dry-cleaning franchises near the downtown hotels.
Drinks were ordered and the two men set into conversation with their intended
targets. Susan soon realized that Don was only occupying her attention to give
Rich free rein on Hyacinth. Don asked her perfunctory questions about her work
and interests while surreptitiously glancing at his watch. Within a half hour,
Rich had secured a promise from Hyacinth to meet him later for a cruise on Lake
Erie on his 42 foot Sea Ray. Susan was left out in the cold with only a "nice
meeting you" from the men as they departed.
Why did Hyacinth find it so easy to get dates? Susan wondered. She answered
her own question. Hyacinth Green was in her middle thirties, like Susan. She
was thrice divorced with no kids. She had a nice sportscar, and a 2,000 square
foot condo. Not bad for an "executive assistant". She was a tall, leggy
blonde with a flawless body. Moreover, her personality exuded sexuality, and
her causal banter with men, laced with innuendo, made them hot to have a chance
with her. To be seen with her. To lay her.
After leaving the bar, Hyacinth suggested heading back to see Susan's new home.
Hyacinth needed to touch up her makeup prior to heading to the boat, and seeing
Susan's humble abode would be killing two birds with one stone.
In the basement, Jack could hear Hyacinth's exclamation's of delight over his
mother's comfortable, little home. To Jack's ears they rang false as he waited
for them to come into the basement.
"Jack, are you downstairs?" his mother called.
"Yes," Jack answered.
Susan and Hyacinth came down the stairs, Susan explaining that Jack had been
working hard on the home since they had moved in. Jack watched Hyacinth's
beautiful legs as they appeared step by step into his vision.
Hyacinth was wearing a black leather mini skirt without hosiery of any kind.
A beige silk blouse, unbuttoned to the top of her magnificent breasts. Green
eyes, long blonde hair. Fascinating.
Hyacinth's eyes roved around the basement and she made the appropriate comments
to Susan's mother. Her eyes rested casually on Jack as he sat behind the bar.
"Well, look at you Jackie," she crooned. "You've grown since I last saw you.
You're turning into quite a stud aren't you? Your Mom's gonna have to beat the
girls off you won't she?"
Jack felt his face blush and he struggled to contain himself. Hyacinth was a
sexual force of nature.
"So far, I've been too busy to even try to get a girl," Jack blurted, then
mentally castigated himself for such a lame response.
"Barkeep, what are you serving? You're not drinking are you? You're too
young." Hyacinth said sweetly to Jack.
"No, I'm just drinking Sprite. But I can make you whatever you want. The
drinking lamp is lit..." Jack smacked himself mentally again for his silly
repartee. It was damn hard to talk with Hyacinth. She drove all his composure
right out of him.
"I can't hon. I'm meeting a guy on his boat. I just stopped by to see the
house and freshen up. The place looks good. Your Mother tells me you're the
man of the house now..."
Jack's eyes widened. Had his mother spilled their secret? He glanced quickly
at his mother, who was standing stock still watching him. Her face was red.
She shook her head almost imperceptibly.
"Yes, I've been doing a lot of stuff around here, trying to get things back to
normal. This old house needs a lot of work," Jack said quickly.
"Well, you're doing a nice job. Susan, I've got to freshen up and get out of
here," Hyacinth winked at Jack and headed back up the stairway. Jack watched
her perfect ass undulate up the stairs. When he returned his gaze to his
Mother, she was staring at him. Her eyes looked glassy, as though she would
cry.
"What's wrong?" Jack asked quickly
"It's tough competing against someone who looks like Hyacinth", Susan stated
quietly. "Actually, there is no competition".
"You go up and see her out the door. I'll mix you a gin and tonic for when you
get back. Then we'll talk about who's got what," Jack suggested amiably.
Susan turned to head upstairs to see Hyacinth out to her car without
questioning Jack. As her foot touched the bottom stair, Jack called to her.
"Hey..."
Susan turned her face back to Jack. He grinned. "Now, I'm watching your ass.
And it looks nice."
Susan blushed, and almost fled up the stairs. Jack watched her full bottomed
motherly ass swing up the stairs. Susan was wearing a gray wool skirt with tan
hose and a white blouse. She stood about 5'5" and 140 pounds; not bad for 38
years old. Her hips and ass were white marbled wonders; full and lush; her
breasts nice, saggy handfuls. True, she had some stretch marks on her butt and
stomach, and faint bluish veins on the sides of her titties, but the overall
picture was one comfortable, warm lovely woman. Susan had a pretty face and a
beautiful, shy smile. And a humiliation streak a mile wide.
Jack almost whistled as he mixed his Mother a strong drink. He heard the
toilet flush upstairs and the resultant run of water through the waste pipes in
the basement. He heard his Mother resume conversation with Hyacinth, who was
saying her good-byes. They walked out the front door. Jack was elated. He
had a good chance with his Mother tonight. And a chance to serve in a new role
as Mom's Confessor. She seemed upset about something and he would find out
what. And put his own spin on the problem and feed it back to her. And his
answer would contain the sublimated need for Mom to put out. Damn, he should
have gotten some of Mom's toys ready.
Susan watched as Hyacinth's Viper backed out the driveway and sped away. Susan
was feeling sorry for herself, half drunk and depressed. The ease with which
Hyacinth breezed through life was disheartening. A beautiful body, beautiful
home, beautiful car, beautiful clothes, money in the bank. And a way with Men.
She was never at a loss for a man--hadn't started any of her divorces until the
next well-to-do guy was already waiting in the wings. Never overly obedient to
the vows of matrimony, Hyacinth lived an exciting life as both a married and
divorced woman.
Susan had eagerly related last weekend's adventure with "Bill", the faux cowboy
they had met at a country bar. She omitted Bill's premature ejaculation and
the part where she actually ended up fucking her own son. Susan was aiming at
Hyacinth's jealousy--Hyacinth had gone home empty-handed that night. But
before her story was half finished, she realized that Bill wasn't even in
Hyacinth's league, and that she was receiving almost sympathetic glances from
Hyacinth as she told the story. Hyacinth congratulated her sincerely on having
"broken the ice" as Bill was the first man she had sex with since her marriage
dissolved. She could tell Hyacinth wasn't jealous, or even slightly impressed.
One guy in three months. Not a very inspiring record, Susan reflected.
Susan went back into the house. She hesitated, almost afraid to join Jack at
the basement bar. Afraid of what might happen. She sat down on the toilet
thinking furiously as she urinated. She glanced down at the green bikini-cut
panties she was wearing. Probably shouldn't wear those, she thought. Need
something safer, less likely to excite. After wiping, careful not to brush the
little man in the boat, she flushed and then slid the panties down the laundry
chute. She went to her bedroom and donned a loose white pair of nice,
sensible, motherly panties. Armored with this white talisman of virtue, she
refastened the wool skirt. She checked her appearance in the full-length
bedroom mirror, then chided herself. What am I doing?, she wondered. I want
to look nice to my son? She fled the bedroom, uncertain that she wanted to
even go into the basement. Well, we'll just talk, and then I'll go to
bed--alone-,she amended. Susan Hornher headed slowly down the stairs, her legs
feelin g heavy and weak as she descended.
In the basement, Jack heard his Mother come back into the house after saying
her good-byes to Hyacinth. Untouchable Hyacinth, goddess of sexual appeal.
Lost in a reverie of Hyacinth's charms, he was startled by the flush of the
upstairs toilet. What followed was a sound familiar to Jack. The whoosh of
clothing--in this case, a pair of green rayon panties--falling down the laundry
chute. Jack left his perch behind the bar. He parted the bead curtain and
peered into the laundry room. The panties lay upon the tiled basement floor,
alone. Jack hadn't replaced the laundry bag that connected to the bottom of
the chute to collect the clothing that fell. Jack's mouth went dry as he
stared. He went over and picked up the panties--a sort of feminine manna. He
found the crotch and held it to his nose. Jack inhaled the musky essence of
his Mother's femininity from her most private garment. A warm, humid, fragrant
hint of the mysterious regions shielded from his view. His cock surged within
his shorts, rising vertically and majestically to stand beating four/fifths
time against his belly. Damn. Is this what her pussy smelled like? Did they
all smell like that? What a scent! Totally unfamiliar to Jack's olfactory
senses, nonetheless recognized on a primeval level. Jack inhaled through his
nose and felt like rubbing his cock inside his pants until he shot. It was
time to rut.
Jack heard his mother walking through the kitchen. He reluctantly pulled the
panties off his nose. I should have been sniffing these all along while I was
doing laundry, he thought. I'm getting awful weird--I need to go out and get
some new friends...
Jack glided back behind the bar as his Mother descended the stairs. He placed
the panties on a small shelf in front of him, out of her view. They could come
in handy, whether he got laid or not.
"Belly up to the bar, Mom, I've fixed you a large gin and tonic, with a twist
of lime," Jack was feeling ebullient.
"I don't like bar stools Jack. They're too high for me--I always feel like I'm
going to fall right off," his Mother said, accepting his proffered glass.
"I'll just sit on the couch."
Susan seated herself and glanced around the room appreciatively. "You have
been busy. This basement looks great. Really great. Although this carpeting
is something else," Susan stated casually, afraid to look at her son directly
in the eyes. It was easier to survey the old green shag carpet.
"Yeah, it's old carpeting all right. But it's in good shape and we don't have
to replace it immediately." Jack answered, rather at a loss for conversational
gambits.
"It's nice and warm down here--not too cold or clammy."
"Yeah, the guy behind us--Mr. Havasu--said the basements around here are like
that--they stay dry", Jack offered. "The air is dry because the
air-conditioning takes out the humidity". Jack felt foolish giving a
half-assed science lesson to his Mother. And she had glanced involuntarily at
the closest basement window when he mentioned the neighbor's name. Bad move,
he thought to himself.
"Jack, do you find me attractive?" Susan asked pensively.
"Yes, I do," Jack murmured.
"Tell me the truth--would you take Hyacinth over me if you had a chance to make
love to one of us?"
"No, I wouldn't." Jack stared at his Mother, hoping she wasn't setting some
kind of verbal trap for him. What was she getting at?
"Why wouldn't you pick her?", Susan looked earnestly up at his face, sipping
her drink.
Jack knew it was time to tap-dance. Time to get the party started. And
hopefully he wouldn't step on any landmines that blew his chances. He hated
essay questions.
"It's not a question of why I wouldn't pick her. It's a question of why I
would pick you." He waited, feeling that he was off to a good start.
"And why would you pick me? I'm the same age as her, but she's got the body.
I've got the sags and veins and wrinkles. She's got the personality--she's a
success. I'm just a 38 year old divorced mother who can't find a decent man to
take her to dinner." Jack noticed that his Mom had the slightest slur to her
speech after a few hours of drinking at the bar. She had relaxed on the sofa,
her left leg, once tucked easily under her right leg, which rested on the
floor, had shifted. The offending left leg, which had presented a horizontal
bar to Jack's view up her skirt, had moved forward as his mother rested against
the back cushioning of the sofa. A small triangle of dark space had revealed
itself. Susan gulped her drink.
"I find you more approachable, and more attractive than Hyacinth. She's
downright scary how beautiful and sensual she is. She scares me--I know that.
I'd prefer someone more comfortable and down-to-earth sexy than Hyacinth.
Besides, hasn't she been married three times?" Susan nodded her head, staring
back at the floor. "So she's some kind of man-eater, I guess. Maybe I'm just
saying I'd prefer someone nice, like you."
"Thanks, Jackie, but I'm not talking about a relationship thing. I asked who
you would make love to if you had one chance."
"Make love to or Fuck?" Jack demanded. Susan blushed and finished her gin
before answering.
"'Fuck,' if you want to put it like that..."
"I'd rather fuck you. You get downright dirty while Hyacinth would be
wondering about her makeup."
"What about make love? Who then?"
"You," Jack said easily.
"Why"?
"Because I do love you".
Jack came around the bar. "I'll make you another drink, and then we're off to
bed." He prayed that his statement did not meet with spirited resistance on
his Mother's part.
Susan's eyes widened in alarm, as he approached. She clutched her glass, then
released it to him. As her son walked away, She was losing control again,
giving in to his words, spoken with an easy confidence and finality.
She had to say something--had to get back into control. "I was thinking about
heading off to bed myself anyway."
Jack mixed two more gin and tonics while he digested that statement.
Resistance. Got to get past that resistance. He brought her new drink over to
her, staring down first at her eyes, which were held up to his, in not the most
steady gaze he had ever seen; then down to her breasts. His eyes burned on her
blouse as he answered.
"You had an extra word in your sentence, Mom. You said you were thinking about
heading off to bed 'yourself'. You meant you were thinking about heading off
to bed anyway."
Susan felt him staring at her chest as he spoke. All of a sudden, her groin
tingled and her nipples stiffened with the embarrassment. He's turning me on,
she thought, he's humiliating me. Just like his father used to do. As he
walked back behind the bar, she found herself watching him. His slim, boyish
body, and he wanted her.
Jack walked back to the safety behind the bar. Had his gambit worked? He
watched his mother. She was blushing; her face red. She squirmed in her seat,
avoiding eye contact. It was working. It was working!
"I've got a little mystery to solve, Susan," Jack said, going on instinct now
and using his Mother's name for the first time. She gave a small gasp,
staring wide-eyed at him.
"I'm gonna need your help to solve it," he added cockily, his heart starting to
pound in his chest. His penis as ascendant now, a barometer of his progress.
He waited for her to answer--wanted her to participate in this game.
Finally, "What"?, gasped his Mother.
"Put both feet on the floor, and hike your skirt just the tiniest bit," Jack
ordered softly.
Susan felt a hot flush pour down her body. The blood was pounding in her ears.
She felt unworldly, her mind divorced from her body. She was frozen, until he
spoke again, jarring her senses.
"Spread your legs a little bit."
Susan's pussy gave an electric shock of alarm. Her breasts and nipples started
to ache in the confinement of her bra.
"Come on," Jack urged.
Susan placed both feet on the floor, staring at her legs as she did so. She
placed both hands on the hem of her skirt and pulled the bottom slightly up her
thighs. She couldn't face Jack.
"More. Pull your skirt up more. So you can spread your legs."
Susan reluctantly raised her bottom off the couch and pulled the skirt up her
thighs. She kept her legs together primly.
"Now spread your legs."
Susan moaned and spread her thighs a few inches, knowing she was exposing her
panty-clad crotch to her son.
"More."
His mother seemed to shrug inwardly, then spread her legs. The tops of her
thigh-high brown hosiery were visible, clinging to her solid legs. As she
completely spread, her panty crotch was visible to Jack. A few short, curly
black hairs escaped confinement, displaying themselves at the sides of her
crotch. Highly intoxicating, thought Jack.
"Just as I suspected," announced Jack.
"Whaa--what?", Susan stammered, looking over at him, her face red, almost
humiliated to tears. Please don't let him make fun of my body, she prayed, I
couldn't stand that.
"You've got white panties on," Jack answered, matter of factly.
"So?", his mother urged him for more information. Humiliate me if you
want--that's okay--but don't hurt me down deep--don't tell me the things about
my body that I already believe.
"So? Well, if you've got panties on, then whose are these?" Jack whipped out
the green panties from behind the bar with a flourish. He held them up on one
finger close to the side of his face. He smiled engagingly at his Mother.
Susan gave a wordless cry of shame. She stared at the bikini-cut panties she
had slid down the laundry chute after she put the sensible white panties on.
The green panties hung near the side of his face. Her vagina lips were blood
filled. She resisted a strong urge to rub her clit with an index finger while
Jack watched. She grabbed her glass from the coffee table and took a gulp.
Her mind burned with shame and the whorelike feeling her husband had always
produced to get her to cum.
"I was waiting for you to get back down here," Jack started. "I was folding up
the last of the laundry, when these practically fell on my head." A small lie,
but harmless, he told himself. "They landed on my shoulder to be honest. I
smelled something though, as they flew past my face. Now what did I smell?"
Silence.
"What would I smell, if I held these to my nose?" Jack amended his question.
Silence, then finally a whispered, "Me."
"You?!", Jack acted shocked. "You mean they're not Hyacinth's?"
Susan looked up, startled. Did he want Hyacinth? "No, they're mine."
"Why would you change your panties before you came down?"
"I--I...I wanted more...Motherly Panties!", Susan blurted, her humiliation
before her son complete.
"Oh, I see," Jack said softly, hardly knowing where to go with this thread.
Inspiration.
"So I would smell your pussy, if I held these to my nose?", Jack queried.
"Yes," almost a whisper.
"Would I smell lust?"
Silence under the interrogation. Then, "Yes."
"Do you feel like a slut?"
"Yes."
"Like a whore?"
"Yes."
Jack's cock was throbbing hard against his stomach. He felt like rubbing up
against the bar until he came. Mustn't lose control, he thought. Had to get
moving.
Jack came around the bar to sit at the easychair, to his Mother's left. His
seat within three feet of her on the couch. Her legs still spread obscenely to
give him a view of her white pantied crotch.
"Rub yourself," Jack whispered. He tossed the green panties onto Susan's lap.
She flinched as they landed with the inside crotch facing up at her.
Susan moaned at the Jack's words. She slid her right index finger down to the
bottom of her white triangle and slowly rubbed her insistent clitoris. The
lips of her vagina gaped slightly. She was lubricating.
"The key to your footlocker--is it still taped to the bottom of your jewelry
box?" Jack asked softly.
"Yes," his Mother whispered, looking at his face now.
"You stay here playing with yourself. Don't take your panties off and don't
cum. Understand?"
Susan nodded. She wanted to wait until he was gone, then strip her panties off
and drive two fingers into her quim until she exploded. The urge was
overpowering, but she needed to know what would happen next.
Jack turned and headed upstairs. He almost broke into a trot, catching himself
at the last moment. That wouldn't look too good. Jack didn't want to seem
like an overexcited virgin, which basically he was.
Jack headed into his mother's room, and with shaking hands, pulled the taped
key off the bottom of the jewelry box. He went to the closet and slid the door
open. There it lay. An old army footlocker padlocked shut. The box held the
paraphernalia of Susan's married life with Jack's father, Sterling Hornher. An
veritable armory of dildoes, vibrators, lingerie, bondage regalia, crops,
ropes. One hardly knew where to start. Jack had sifted through this gear
years ago--he had found the key--and he basically knew what each item did. The
Internet had taught him that much.
Jack opened the footlocker. His aim for tonight was simple. None of that
bondage stuff--it took too long. No, better to go with the mental dominance
and humiliation his Mother took so well to. Time later on for the extended
bouts of bondage. Jack selected a black lingerie outfit. He suspected that it
was old and by now, too small. All the better. He selected a large realistic
flesh colored vibrator. How the hell could anyone take that comfortably?, he
wondered. Ah, well--it wasn't for him to say... Selecting a plastic bottle of
Sex Grease, he shut the footlocker and headed back into the basement, fearful
that something might have happened to change his Mother's mind. He had a
vision of her metamorphosing into her 38 year old Soccer Mom persona with a
comfortable, white Sears robe pulled tight around her and big pink mules on her
feet.
On the way back, he grabbed a brown blanket from the hallway closet, then
headed down the stairs. He walked as quickly as he deemed dignified back down
into the basement.
His mother, Susan Hornher, was just as he had left her.
Susan had waited vacantly for Jack's return, committed now to be humiliated
into an act of sexual perversion with her son. She had toyed steadily with her
clitoris, keeping a steady level of arousal without going over the top to a
full blown orgasm. Even Jack's entrance back into the basement humiliated her
and sent a charge through her vagina. Jack was carrying a blanket, which he
had draped over his right hand. Susan paused her self-ministration, her legs
still spread to accommodate his view. Jack seated himself back behind the bar,
farther away than the armchair at her side. He regarded her intently.
"You ready?", Jack said quietly. Susan's mouth was dry with a quasi-fear of
having to perform in front of him. "Yes," she finally whispered.
"Unclasp your skirt, and leave it on the couch. Walk to me, I have something
else for you to put on," Jack commanded breathlessly, his cock resurgent.
Susan digested his instruction, then reached to her right side and unclasped
the skirt from her waist. The garment went loose and Susan's waist felt free
and unencumbered. Did she dare stand up, letting the skirt fall away and
exposing her panties to Jack? She stood up carefully and caught the skirt, as
it fell away. She couldn't look at her son to gauge his reaction. Her
panty-clad thighs and hips were now exposed to him.
Jack watched his mother as she stood, almost swaying as she stood up, catching
her skirt and placing it next to her on the couch. She staggered a bit as she
walked, and he noticed that she had finished the second drink he had fixed her.
She approached him, eyes downcast, face flushed. Jack drank in the sight of
the perfectly wide hips and thighs of an older woman. Nice.
Jack pulled out the black lingerie and presented it to her. Susan's head came
up to view the garment, and she faltered. The black open cup bra and
crotchless panties. Damn.
"Jackie, that doesn't fit your Mother anymore. That's from years ago." I
can't wear that," she explained.
"Well, I kind of suspected that when I selected them. I think that most men
like to see what's hidden inside these things, but I'd like to see what is
hanging out. So, put it on anyway." Jack's tone brooked no argument.
Susan froze for a few moments, and Jack expected resistance. When she held out
her hand for the garments he was gratified. She walked back to her place, her
full white ass undulating beneath her panties. She turned to face him and
froze again, not daring to catch his eyes as they devoured her form.
"Too embarrassed?", Jack asked
Susan nodded her head, looking at the lingerie. This stuff was older than Jack
was. It wouldn't fit--it would look grotesque on her. She was thirty pounds
heavier than the slim young woman she had been 17 years ago. It was even
possible that Jack had been conceived while she was wearing this garb.
Sterling Hornher hadn't been so perverse then...
"Then, I'll make it easier for you," Jack announced, coming around the bar.
"Sit down". Susan sat, once again putting her legs together, trying to protect
her pubic area from view. Jack covered her with the blanket, from feet to
shoulders. Then he sat down in the armchair at her side.
"Now, change outfits under the blanket. First your blouse. Then your bra.
Then your panties. Put each item in my hand when you're through with it. Then
put the lingerie on, the bra first; the panties second. Go..."
Susan felt the thrill of submission course through her. She knew that when she
pulled her panties off, she would be able to smell her arousal--she was that
wet. She yearned to just lie back and masturbate to an orgasm to take the edge
off. "Go," Jack repeated intensely.
Susan unbuttoned her blouse under the blanket, top to bottom, slowly. "Look at
me," Jack commanded hoarsely. She raised her eyes to his, her gaze wavering at
Jack's dark eyes, and past him, then back again as she dared. She gently eased
her shoulders out of the garment until it was free of her body. She moaned
quietly. Jack watched as her right hand snaked out from under the blanket. It
contained her blouse, which she deposited into his waiting hand. She stared
into his eyes; her pupils dilated and glassy. Jack watched the hand return.
She now held the blanket under her chin as she performed the intricate maneuver
required to remove her brassiere. Sliding her arms out from the straps, Susan
twisted the bra hooks from her back to her right side, unfastening the bra, and
pulling it free of her body. Her breasts--34c after Jack had been born, sagged
slightly to rest on her chest, free of their encumberment. Once again, her
hand snaked out to provide Jack with her intimate appa rel. Jack received his
Mother's bra with as much reverence as if the Pope had just handed him his
sacredly funny hat. Jack could feel the warmth left in the cups. He brought
the cups to his nose and inhaled. They smelled of femininity; close,
comfortable femininity. Susan had stopped moving, feeling the material of the
blanket rubbing against her breasts, concentrating on the feeling of her
covered nakedness before the eyes of her son. She gave an audible gasp as she
watched him smell her everyday bra. Her vagina was oh so ready.
"And now the 'piece de resistance', Jack leaned far forward and whispered into
her ear. His warm breath in her ear sent flutters through her.
Susan raised her bottom off the couch and tugged her white panties down,
loosing first one leg; then the other. She sat back naked under the blanket;
the couch cushion feeling deliciously strange to her naked backside; holding
her panties in her hand. She handed them out to Jack, who accepted them
without action or comment. She already had the lingerie under the blanket with
her.
Jack watched as his Mother, under the blanket, identified and oriented the lacy
black open bra of the lingerie set. To his eyes, she appeared to reverse the
bra doffing procedure, clasping the bra on the side, rotating it behind her,
then putting her arms in. To gauge the consternation on her face, the bra was
too small for her beautifully sagged tits.
Susan fastened the bra on her side. There hadn't been any lycra all those
years ago, but thank God for elastic, she thought. Her breasts poked through
the opening front of the bra, presenting a wide expanse of the front of her
breasts and nipples to view. Strangely enough, the bra cups seemed perfect for
her, it was just the straps that were too tight. These cups must have been too
big before, she mused. Now for the panties.
She located the panties by feel. She reached down, still holding her safety
blanket between her neck and chin, and placed her feet into them. Tugging them
up her legs to her thighs, she felt the elastic already working. At the top of
her womanish thighs, the panties stopped, unwilling to go farther without a
struggle. Susan lifted her butt off the couch cushion and tugged harder. The
panties slid up the last inclines of her thighs and nestled tightly into her
crotch. Ooh, they were tight, the elastic at her hips straining indignantly.
These didn't fit by a long shot. She was completely embarrassed now. She
settled back into the couch, using her hands to reposition the blanket to
shield her. She was degradingly thrilled by his demands, and the lingerie
which had fit her best as a slim, young wife 17 years ago.
Jack's cock throbbed hotly against his stomach, still confined by his shorts
and underwear. It was time. It definitely was time.
"Now Mom, I know you're a little embarrassed sitting there under that blanket.
Am I right?"
"Yes," Susan breathed, watching him, not knowing what could come next.
"So, to help you get over the embarrassment of showing me your charms, I'm
gonna show you mine." With that, Jack rose and in one movement, pulled his
shorts and underwear off, kicking them to the floor. He stood there near his
Mother, displaying. Susan stared at him wide-eyed. He was beautifully formed,
his strong, lightly haired legs, his slim hips. His cock. Jutting at the
impossibly vertical angle only a young man can manage. His cock touching his
belly-button. His testicles adorned with fuzzy blonde hair. Jack did a
pirouette for her benefit. "How do I look?", he asked gaily. Susan was
speechless, watching his penis cut the air as he turned. Oh my.
Jack stepped up to his Mother, his penis within a foot of her face. She
blushed anew, her eyes glued to his manhood as if it were a cobra that could
strike her at any moment. Her index finger slid back down to her clitoris, and
she gave it a few strokes. Electricity.
Jack stepped in the last foot and bent his penis down. His cock lay at her
right cheek alongside her nose. It burned hotly there. "How do I feel?", Jack
demanded. Susan answered immediately, "Warm." Jack was elated; this was
working well. He moved his penis just under his nose. "Do I smell okay?", he
asked. "y..yes..", his Mother answered, beginning to stroke her clitoris
furiously, nearing the peak. The movement did not go unnoticed by Jack. He
turned away from her, and she moaned, frustrated.
"How does my butt look?", he demanded.
"uh,uh...nice", his Mother answered weakly, knowing now what was coming next.
Jack backed up within her spread legs, careful not to trip on the blanket that
covered her. His cheeks were within two feet of Susan's face. Jack spread his
cheeks with his hands, his anus and testicles exposed. "How do I smell?, he
asked nastily. "good," his Mother cried, not moving. "You'll have to get
closer than that," Jack warned her good-naturedly. He felt an overpowering
urge to stroke himself, but he didn't want his Mother to see him
masturbating--it might make her wonder how often he committed that particular
sin. He waited for a few seconds, which felt like an eternity. Then he felt
her nose nestle between his spread cheeks as she inhaled. Not just one breath
either, he thought giddily. She's going all the way. "Well?", he demanded.
"ooh...good...good", his mother breathed. The sight of his hairless anus and
the dangling testicles in her face excited her. His demand humiliated her as
she leaned in and smelled his ass. It was demeaning. Her pussy gave a spasm a
nd she came as she smelled him. Her vagina contracted strongly again and
again, trailing off into a series of aftershocks. Jack looked back over his
shoulder at his Mother's closed eyes. He realized she was having an orgasm.
He waited until she seemed through. Her eyes opened. Jack stepped away and
pulled off his shirt. He was completely naked in front of her. He dropped
down casually into the armchair. "Well, was that good for you, Mom?", he asked
boldly.
Susan felt helpless and weak after her orgasm. She knew he would want her body
displayed before him next. She felt her stage fright rising. "Yes, it was
good," she offered meekly.
"You came?"
"Yes," was her quiet response.
"You came, sniffing my butt?"
Silence.
"That's pretty wild, Mom. But I'm glad I could help you out," Jack said
causally. "Now it's your turn--I'm sitting here all naked--now it's your
turn," he repeated.
Susan felt like a dirtygirl slut at a bachelor party of one. Exposing herself,
in heat. She was frozen. Her vagina gaped open, wet and thrilled by what it
was hearing. It was ready to go, but she was panicked.
"Would you like to lick my ass while I come on your breasts?", Jack asked
innocently, "or would you like to stand up right now and show me what you've
got?"
Susan blanched at the her vision of his first suggestion and made her decision.
She struggled to her feet clinging to the blanket as she arose. Then, turning
his way and facing him, she tossed the blanket down on the couch; closing her
eyes in shame, she stood swaying in front of him, her lingerie clad body on
display for his pleasure.
Jack sat in wonder at the spectacle of his Mother, clothed in lingerie and
presenting herself to him. Her big hips ensnared by the too tight crotchless
panties. Her pubic mound trimmed close, the top of her vaginal lips visible.
Mother's tummy, old panty lines etched in reddened bands, small stretch marks
from her only pregnancy; stomach pooched out slightly with the weight most
adult women don't ever lose. Blue veined breasts propped up in the open cups
of the bra, large dark pink aureoles, with darker nipples; breasts held up only
by the work of the bra. Full hips and sturdy thighs. Jack was speechless
staring at his 38 year old humiliated Mother's charms.
Susan swayed, eyes tightly shut for endless seconds waiting to Jack to do
something. When his hands grabbed her hips and gently pulled her forward, she
gasped. "Turn around," Jack whispered urgently.
Susan turned, presenting her backside to him. Jack stared at the white moons
of her ass. "Bend over," Jack ordered. Susan complied, bending at her waist,
spreading her stance, and opening her eyes to help keep her balanced and
oriented. Jack's hands parted her cheeks, and she knew he was inspecting her
anus and vagina. Jack stared at her Mother's private orifices, each capable of
pleasuring him. It was time. It was the time to climb.
"Take off the outfit and lay down on the couch," Jack whispered to her. Susan
straightened up in alarm. Jack brushed by her, out of his chair, heading
behind the bar. He grabbed the large vibrator and headed back. Susan,
watching Jack's penis bouncing stiffly as he returned, unclasped her bra and
slid her arms out. Tossing it to the couch, she tucked her fingers under the
tight waistband of the black panties and arduously tugged them down until they
slid to her feet. She was totally naked now, blushing in shame at having
exposed herself at her son's command.
Jack wasted no time. Almost colliding with his Mother, he brought her down
onto the couch. He tossed the vibrator to the carpet. Spreading her heavy
legs, he buried his face into her vagina, almost recoiling from his first
encounter with the intense smell of his aroused Mother's genitalia. Wow! It
was like the panties had smelled, only fresher and alive. Jack buried his
tongue into her warm cavern, brushing his nose against her clitoris. She
moaned! She thrust upwards against his face! Success and the pussy smell made
Jack giddy. His face glistened with his Mother's juices.
Susan, the breath nearly knocked out of her by Jack's impetus in placing her on
the couch, felt his hands push her legs open. Then his face buried itself in
her crotch. She knew she was wet down there from the excitement. Jack
burrowed his tongue into her hole and she moaned. His nose rubbed her clit as
he ate her out. She went over the brink immediately, sliding down into a
series of small, fluttering, orgasms.
Jack began to lick her mothers pussy from top to bottom, starting with her anus
and working up to her clitoris. He'd seen enough movies on the computer to
understand what he was supposed to be doing, and he did just that. After the
eighth wet tongue swipe, he moistened his index finger and pressed it against
her defenseless anus. He worked the finger into the knuckle. His Mother's
anus clenched and released repeatedly before he realized she was cumming.
Susan grunted as she felt his index finger worm it's way into her bottom. She
was having a small series of orgasms as her son licked her. She felt so slutty
and whorish. All of the sudden, his face left her.
Jack raised up from his first-ever pussy licking, his face besmirched with his
Mother's secretions. He pulled Mom's legs up and lined up his penis with her
sheath. He had to bend his stiff penis down to even attempt the connection.
The damn thing kept missing the entrance to her. Then he aimed lower and sank
his cock right up to the hilt in his Mother's pussy.
Heaven. Warm, enveloping, moist heaven. Jack was afraid to even move for fear
he'd come before his first stroke. He looked into her Mother's eyes.
Susan felt the fear and panic coming when he pulled her legs apart and moved
over her. She felt his penis bang against the outer gates--too high she knew.
She hadn't wanted him in her vagina at all. It was her way of keeping at least
a semblance of dignity, taking him only in her hand, mouth, or ass, (if he
demanded it). This was too intimate, too close, too wrong. Before she could
summon her small reserve of courage to speak out, Jack speared her. Speared
her good. His cock surged into her wet maw, the head glancing off her cervix.
She groaned in despair. Thank God, she was still on birth control, she
thought. He rested inside her, and she sneaked a glance at his face. He was
watching her reaction. Susan blanched and closed her eyes.
"Don't come in there," Susan whispered, almost in tears.
"Okay," Jack promised. He took the opportunity to grasp her beautiful sagging
breasts. He licked her aureoles and nipples, eliciting soft moans from Susan.
He squeezed them, like any man would.
Jack had one more thing to try before he started moving inside his Mother. His
cock was almost painful, at the trigger edge of shooting off. He didn't want
to come without even a stroke in that delightfully warm envelope. Jack lay
more of his weight atop his mother. He pressed his face and lips against hers.
"Kiss me," Jack demanded.
Susan was shocked. This was not sex for release of tension. This was personal
sex. Between Mother and Son. "No," she whispered fiercely.
"Kiss me, you beautiful slut," Jack demanded again.
Susan's insides fluttered at the word. Slutlike was how she felt with Jack
atop her, inserted into her vagina. Almost unconsciously, she began to move
slightly under him. Jack felt her pussy moving on his cock. He pressed his
tongue into her mouth, and she opened her mouth to receive his savage French
kiss. Susan could smell her pussy juice--his face was still wet--and she
tasted the slightest tang of herself on his tongue. She started to come in her
big orgasm.
Jack knew he was at the end. His mother's responses would have done him in
anyway. He started to fuck her, his cock driving into her with force. Susan
felt his penis rub her cervix on every stroke. He was in her deep.
Jack pulled his cock out of his Mother as he felt his orgasm wash over him.
His penis exploded on her chest and stomach. Susan opened her eyes, gasping as
his warm semen landed on her. Jack jettisoned his load, his shots hitting
between her breasts, and on her comfortable stomach. He filled her bellybutton
with his spend, and finished himself by rubbing the underside of his cock along
her pubis, luxuriating in the feel of the prickly feeling of her short hairs.
His cock spasmed emptily and his prostate contracted almost painfully. Susan
heard his moans as he spent himself on her and she felt guiltily happy in the
knowledge that someone, even her son, could still find happiness by being with
her. God knows, his father hadn't felt the need to touch her for the last year
of their marriage. It had made her feel unattractive.
"Let me up," Susan said, already looking for something to swab Jack's sperm off
her body with. Jack's mind was still reeling from the feeling--his first time
in a woman's vagina--and he absently pulled off her. Susan picked up the
panties off the floor and gently cleaned her skin, paying special attention to
her cum-filled bellybutton. She made as if to get up off the couch.
"Not yet," Jack said quietly.
"What do you mean?", Susan asked confused.
"One more time," Jack said.
"One more time?", Susan echoed, dazed.
"We'll do it one more time, then go to bed," Jack announced quietly.
"Oh", his Mother answered, thinking of an argument. She was getting chilled
now after her exercise. She pulled the blanket around her and sat back, the
soiled panties she had cleaned herself with laying next to her. Under the
blanket, she could smell Jack's semen wafting up to her nostrils. Vaguely
excited, she waited. Sterling Hornher had almost never gone with her a second
time, and she was unused to the feeling of being only half finished.
Jack fixed fresh drinks for both of them and brought hers to her, like a
gentleman. He sat back down in the armchair and sipped reflectively. Susan
felt his eyes resting on her outline under the blanket.
"I love your body," Jack stated, feeling something needed to be said.
"My body is old and saggy now, Jack. You should have seen me before you were
born," Susan said, embarrassed. She pulled the blanket tighter over her
nakedness.
"Your body is perfect Mom, and your attitude is great. I appreciate you going
along with the game plan like you did. It makes it easier," Jack said
honestly.
"Jack, this isn't necessarily right--what we're doing--you know that don't
you?", Susan blurted suddenly.
"I know that," Jack said earnestly. "I think I know that better than you do.
I know that you're down from being divorced and all. Well, I'm down too,
moving like we did--I don't have any friends here--and what we're doing is just
releasing some tension. Right now we're all we got. I realize things could
change and this would be all over."
"That's right, Jackie," Susan said, with a gush of relief. "I could start
dating again, or you could find a girl around here. And this--these things
we're doing--would be over. For good. Right?", she was almost pleading for
his understanding.
"Yes, I understand that perfectly, Mom," Jack promised. "That's partly what
makes it exciting for me. Not knowing what's going to happen, or even if
anything is going to happen."
"What else do you like about it?", Susan asked, openly embarrassed, but
interested, hoping her son would compliment her more--I need some more positive
reinforcement, she thought guiltily.
"I like that you don't reject me--everything I want you to do, you do," Jack
said simply.
"Like I'm your personal whore?", Susan questioned. Jack's eyes flicked over to
hers, she looked away, blushing. There hadn't been any intonation in her
question, and Jack was afraid of saying the wrong thing.
"I guess every man needs a whore", Jack said, tentatively. "Someone to go
along with the game and not treat him like he was weird or perverted," he
finished lamely.
"How about if the woman likes the humiliation of being asked or told to do
those 'weird or perverted' things?", Susan's voice was barely audible.
"Then it's even better," Jack said convinced. "If you're willing to let me run
the show--if you're willing to do what I want--and it helps you with your
orgasms, then I'm more than willing to help out, because you're doing more for
yourself then I'm doing for you, and I appreciate that--I really do," Jack
stated, absolutely certain that what he had just said made no sense.
"Then if we agree that this could end at any time--for good--then we agree that
it's possible that we could occasionally help each other out?", Susan needed an
agreement defining their future. She waited for his response, watching him
closely.
"Only if we agree also that these little sessions don't have to be on week-end
nights when you come home. That they could happen before breakfast, or after
school--when school starts up, of course--or just anytime one of us really
wants it," Jack negotiated.
"Okay," his Mother assented.
"And you will come to me when you're in the mood?", Jack said somewhat
suspiciously. It won't always be me coming to you?", he demanded, conscious of
the control issue at stake there.
"Okay," Susan answered quietly. This was going to be different.
"Tell me why you like the humiliation thing," Jack was curious.
Susan flushed. "Because I'm a shy person, Jackie. I'm not given to expressing
myself. And I was raised in Church and good girls didn't do those things. I
was still naive when I got married to your Father. He wanted certain things I
felt uncomfortable with. Somehow, the humiliation he made me feel helped--I
could divorce myself from the reality, I guess--and I could have orgasms--just
telling myself that I didn't really want to do those things--that I was being
forced to be a slut, a whore, a dirtygirl. And I could tell myself I was just
being a good wife. It was important to me to be a good wife and mother", she
ended lamely. "Now I'm not sure I'm even a good Mother anymore."
"You're a good person," Jack answered, "the nicest person I've ever known."
"Thanks," Susan said unconvinced. She finished her drink and reflected on how
intoxicated she was feeling. She wasn't sure she wanted another round with
Jack.
Jack realized that it was time to get the ball rolling. He wanted anal sex
with his Mother, and the alcohol, which had helped her lose her inhibitions,
was also depressing her.
"If you weren't a nice person, would you blush when I told you to turn around
on all fours and pull the blanket off your ass?", Jack whispered. Susan felt
the hot flush of shame start up again at his words. The skin on her stomach,
with it's lavage of dried semen, felt tight.
"What?", Susan asked helplessly.
"You heard me," Jack whispered. "Show me your ass."
Susan put her glass down, then gathering her resolve, turned on the couch with
her face in the back cushion. Her legs, tucked under her, dangled halfway off
the couch. With her left hand, she pulled the blanket up her legs onto her
back, exposing her bottom to Jack's gaze. She felt a stirring in her clitoris.
Maybe she could cum again, she mused.
Jack stood up, his penis turgid, not as hard as the first time, but stiff
enough to penetrate. It was definitely up for this new experience. Susan's
position partly spread her buttocks for Jack. He could see the brown/pink rose
of her anus staring at him. Not willing to lick his Mother's bunghole at this
point--it seemed to look uncomfortable exposed like it was--Jack retreated to
the bar and retrieved the Sex Grease. Returning to his Mother's backside, Jack
oozed some lube out of the bottle onto his right index finger. The white
palette of her bottom, with the brown center beckoned to him. Jack stuck his
finger into the canvas. He thought rudely of the part in the Little Jack
Horner rhyme where he "stuck in his thumb", but now was not a time for levity.
Susan had waited in position, her defenseless anus presented for intrusion.
Anal sex was her least favorite form of sex, although it was high on the
humiliation scale. It caused initial discomfort, and later a bloated feeling.
And Sterling Hornher had sometimes insisted on pulling out of her bottom, and
finishing himself in her mouth. She prayed Jack hadn't thought of anything so
nasty. Susan heard Jack squirt some lubricant out of the bottle. Still she
was unprepared for his cold finger, which penetrated her fully. She moaned and
her rectum tightened around the intruder. She forced herself to relax. She
also ducked a finger down between her legs to play with her clitoris, which
demanded to be included in the activity.
Jack felt her reaction to his finger and he rested a moment to give her a
chance to accommodate his digit. When she was at peace, Jack slowly fucked his
finger into her bottom, circling and rotating around. Her intestine was warm
and amazingly tight. The inside flesh seemed different. Jack pulled his stink
finger out. He now lubed two fingers, index and middle, and introduced the
pair in tandem. His mother let out a small groan. Jack noted that she was
working her clitoris with her finger. Could he go three fingers? He realized
that he didn't want her loosened up too much. He pulled his fingers out and
wiped them on his cock. At least there was nothing on them.
Jack picked up the vibrator from the coffee table and switched it on. The
vibrator, an experienced veteran, worked smoothly. Jack placed it between her
legs, near her clit. Susan took the toy from his hand and placed in small
circulation on her mound. She was as ready for his invasion as she would be.
Jack stepped in and grasped her buttocks, separating them to gain visual
acquisition of his target. He placed the head of his penis at her anus and
pushed. The first three times, his penis slid off higher into her crack. The
fourth time was the charm, and he felt her star give and accept the head of his
member into her dark, tight asshole.
Susan gave a low groan as she felt the familiar, painful stretch of her
immovable object losing the fight against his irresistible force. When his
cockhead popped inside, she gave a sigh of relief and they both rested a
moment. Then Jack resumed the attack, driving himself further and further into
her until she was impaled by his blunt flesh.
Jack rested, his cock buried in the tight cylinder of his Mother's rectum, so
warm and so nasty. It was everything he'd thought it would be. His Mother
made a low keening sound as she worked the tip of the vibrator over her
clitoris. Jack made a mental note to come here again.
Susan felt Jack's cock retreat and forge anew into her stink passage. It
filled her completely and uncomfortably. Uncomfortable, but not impossible.
She felt Jack begin to saw in and out of her; felt the urge to shit. Not too
long, she hoped, don't be too long in there, Jackie...
Jack fuck his Mother's ass faster and faster, his slim hips slapping against
her full, white marbled bottom. He felt his cum rising, ready to jump out.
This felt nice. He drove forward to his orgasm, grunting each time he slammed
into her.
Susan felt her son suddenly stiffen as he pressed his cock into her. He's
cumming, she knew. Suddenly her ministrations on her clit took on the
pleasurable incline associated with her orgasm. Jack's grunts, as he emptied
his seed into her, were highly erotic to her. She could not feel his ejaculate
in her ass--she never could--but when he resumed slamming her to finish himself
off, she felt the friction against her inner walls diminish, her anus lubed
further now by his spend.
Jack stood, legs shaking, with his cock still sunk inside his Mother's ass. Oh
the feeling of coming inside that cavity. He was weak from the pleasurable
exertion. He pulled his soiled penis from Susan's ass. He didn't know whether
she was going to come or not, or whether he should help her. He spread her
cheeks, watching her gaping anus, besmirched with his sperm. Her asshole
looked swollen and reddened.
Susan gave a sigh when Jack pulled out of her. She was close now, so close.
She needed the extra push over the top. It came when Jack spread her cheeks.
She knew he was inspecting her butthole, gaping open, with his spunk buried
inside. What a nasty thought. With that, Susan came hard, her pussy and ass
muscles clenching and releasing.
Jack witnessed his Mother's asshole spasm. What an erotic sight, he thought.
I came in there. In her guts. He watched her backhole close suddenly and then
wink brownly at him as she came. He stared until the winking ceased. It was
over.
Jack dropped back into the armchair exhausted, his spent penis lying across his
lap. Susan dropped the blanket down over her ass and turned around to sit on
the couch, careful that the blanket would catch her dripping ass. This
furniture was much too nice to get stains on.
"That was something else, Mom," Jack said tiredly. "That was really cool."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Susan said, somewhat embarrassed, a tiny core of her
being slightly proud to know she could still provide a exciting time for a man.
"If you want to go to bed, I'll clean up and turn off the lights." Jack
offered.
"I appreciate that--I'm going to take a shower and then head to bed," Susan
answered, relieved that he didn't expect to sleep next to her in her bedroom.
She rose carefully, covered in the blanket and headed upstairs. As she reached
the stairs Jack called out to her.
"And we have the basics of an Agreement?"
"We do," she promised him. Then gathering herself emotionally, she walked
upstairs. Jack watched her blanketed form proudly. Looking down at his spent
penis, he thought about the windfall Mom's divorce had brought to him. Life was
definitely going to get more interesting...
------The End of His Father's Son, Part II by Shakespeare_I._Aint-----------
-------comments to Shakespeare_I._Aint@mailexcite.com------------
or a.s.s.d. (alt.sex.stories.discussion)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Repost or archive at will--title intact with author credit -- no further
permission needed.
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository |
|<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+