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Subject: {ASSM} His Father's Son, by Shakespeare_I._ Aint ( m/F d/s, incest,humiliation)
Date: Tue, 11 Jul 2000 09:10:12 -0400
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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, mrdouble@airmail.net, or mrdouble@ix.netcom.com.
A Resident Author story from MrDouble's archive,
File: hfs.txt from hfs.zip
http://www.mrdouble.com
His Father's Son, by Shakespeare_I._ Aint ( m/F d/s, incest,humiliation)
------WARNING------
This story is intended for the use of mature adults and would not be suitable
for consumption by minors. If you are a minor or still tend to think like one,
please do not read this story.
This story contains themes of dominance and submission involving a teenage male
and his Mother. The situations contained herein do not represent reality in
any way, shape or form.
Reply to: alt.sex.stories.d or to alt.sex.stories. or
Shakespeare_I._Aint@mailexcite.com
This story can be archived on any non-commercial site or reposted at any time
as long as the above warning is present. Other than that, repost at will...
His Father's Son, Part 1, by Shakespeare I. Aint
Jack was approaching his seventeenth birthday the night his Mother, Susan
Hornher, brought home her first date. Jack remembered, because it was the
first time he had sex with a woman.
His Mother had divorced his father on the advice of a friend and divorced at a
significant monetary disadvantage. The chief reason for the divorce lay in the
fact that Jack's Father had simply tired of his 38 year old wife, Susan
Hornher and had gone on to greener pastures. Susan hadn't been able to prove
they had owned anything beyond their home, cars and joint accounts. Sterling
had accepted the divorce with a great aplomb and a secret smile. He certainly
didn't seem to have suffered any significant financial loss from the
transaction, in fact, his Father never missed a beat, buying a plush condo
overlooking Lake Erie, and a Dodge Viper to get him from point A to point B.
Although Sterling Hornher hadn't been averse to slipping Jack some jack on his
infrequent visits, he steadfastly remained faithful to the divorce decree and
he did not provide anything beyond the child support owed to his ex-wife. As
an unexpected bonus, a corporate promotion and transfer to California left him
little time or inclination to take advantage of the liberal visitation rights
he had won in court and thus, Jack only saw his father about once a year.
That decree left Susan Hornher and her son, Jack, in less than desirable
financial circumstances. Susan had sold the upper-middle class home she had
taken pride in. She could not afford to buy Sterling out on his share of their
home, so she had been forced to sell. She purchased a simple ranch in a middle
class suburb of Cleveland, about 60 miles from Jack's boyhood home.
Their move, in the beginning of summer after Jack's junior year in High School,
left Jack bereft of the friendships he had maintained and forecast a summer of
loneliness for him. Additionally, the "new" house they moved into was far less
than the home they had left, and the maintenance men, who kept their first home
in top condition, were no longer summoned to appear at the command of Sterling
Hornher, to render their services unto him.
It was not that the home wasn't adequate. It was just that in the absence of
experience, 16 year old Jack, now the man of the house, was at a loss as to how
things were done at the reduced level of his circumstances. He had never
patched a wall or snaked a drain, or fixed a leaky sink, or any of the myriad
tasks that this 30 year old ranch-style home demanded from the day they moved
in. His Mother's belief that any man instinctively knew how to fix anything
that needed repair or maintenance made Jack feel like he was not the man that
his father was. With school out for the summer, Jack had plenty of time alone
to wonder why his Mother had chose to leave his Father.
Jack was at a loss. Jack was frustrated.
Jack was honestly less than pleased with his situation...
Susan Hornher had taken the loss of her husband badly. While she was convinced
that he was fooling around on her, she had not been able to prove anything
against Sterling Hornher, except the fact that he had not had sex with her for
the last year of their marriage. Confiding in her friend, Hyacinth Green, had
turned out to be the worst thing she had ever done, next to actually filing for
divorce. What seemed to be a classic case of the ex-wife gets everything
turned out to be that she lost her comfortable home and now had to find
employment to make the payments on the downsized home she had managed to secure
for herself and her son.
So Susan Hornher, the 38 year old divorcee, had entered the work force. She
obtained work with a real estate title company, working her way up from a
form-shuffling secretary to form shuffling closing-agent. The pay was
acceptable, but her budget did not allow them the luxuries they had formerly
taken for granted. Susan worked long and hard for her money and now had a keen
appreciation for the value of the stuff.
Susan now longer had the exquisite body of her youth. Her only pregnancy had
slowed her metabolism down dramatically. At five foot five, she now weighed
about 138 pounds. When she had married 17 years ago, she had been a beautiful
108 pounds. Her stylish, shoulder length black hair now had a few grays mixed
in. Her formerly upthrust breasts tended to point towards Australia now and
the once flawless ass was still flawless, only the canvas on which it was
displayed, had grown. Her sexual appetite, when it reared it's insistent
head, was banished with a long, hot shower with the shower spraywand she had
won in the settlement. Those empty orgasms left her feeling unfulfilled.
Susan reflected daily that life was not like it had been. The sexual
relationship she had enjoyed with Sterling had been most satisfying. He had
awakened her "talent," he called it; her ability to react to humiliation, which
he was only to glad to extend to her. A sexual bout with Sterling usually only
ended after a string of full-blown orgasms for her, and she had blossomed under
his tutelage. His never-ending imagination had vanished with him, along with
her home, her money, and the self-confidence she had gained as a good wife and
homemaker in an upscale community.
Susan had dated sporadically in the two years since the divorce. Men were not
that hard to come by in her line of work. She took a shameful pride in the
fact that she endured as much sexual harassment as the rest of the women
working in her firm, although truth be told, the other woman seemed to enjoy a
control over the men that she totally lacked. She had not been asked out on a
date by any of the men she worked with, or any of the clients conducting
business with the firm. She tended to be shy and deferential with the men she
knew, and she was not good at sexual banter. Maybe they weren't interested in a
38 year old single mother, she reflected sadly. I've got nothing special to
offer. Saggy, older women like me are a dime a dozen. Men go for the young
ones.
Jack, like most 16 year olds, had raced through puberty at a breakneck pace.
In the last two years alone, he had grown six inches to stand at almost six
feet. He weighed 160 pounds, with the sandy blonde hair his father had. A
modest, quiet boy, (intense, he reassured himself), Jack's few friendships had
been immensely important to him. The one "girlfriend," he could claim to have
had declined to pursue their relationship over long distance phone lines. Jack
remained a highly charged unwilling virgin with few prospects for advancement.
What he found incredible was that his Father, who had it all, had been able to
leave his Mother so easily. Jack remembered a night long ago, when he was
eleven, in the old house.
One Saturday night, after midnight, Jack was awakened from a deep sleep. His
bedroom was down the upstairs hall from the room his parents had shared. Jack
had been awakened by a sudden cry he could not identify, and he was startled
and curious. The cry was not repeated, although he could hear murmurings from
down the hall. Jack slipped out of his bed, his feet hitting the carpet
without a sound. His head seemed to be pounding to a beat that had started in
his groin. He could not understand what was happening. He felt weak in the
knees yet somehow supernaturally aggressive at the same time. He had to see
what was going on in the house. Was someone in trouble?
Jack slipped out of his open bedroom door and crept silently down the hall.
His parent's bedroom door, usually closed and locked at this hour of the night,
was cracked open. Jack's head swam as he tiptoed closer to the sliver of light
escaping from the room. He felt that he could either faint or jump straight
through the ceiling at any instant.
Jack had received his fair share of sexual knowledge, like any boy his age,
from whispered tales at school as well as HBO and the Playboy magazines his
friend, Eddie, had regular access to. He knew the basic difference between a
man and woman, though until now the differences hadn't made much of an impact
on him. Now he suspected that such differences were extremely important to his
father, whose voice he could hear.
Jack halted at the door to his parent's room, stopping mechanically, as though
he was drugged. His head was singing--he could hear the blood rushing in his
ears. His conscience screamed at him, asking him if he really wanted to do
something so wrong--looking into his parent's bedroom, and he was guiltily able
to ignore the question. He was drawn to the light.
Inside his parent's comfortably large bedroom, he could clearly see the bed, a
four poster high-mattressed affair. His Mother and Father were both on the
bed. Both were stark naked--the first time Jack had ever seen either a grown
man or woman naked in real life.
Sterling Hornher's naked body partially obscured Jack's view of his Mother.
Susan Hornher was on all fours, facing the headboard of the bed, away from
Jack's line of sight. Her head was down towards the pillows, though Jack
didn't really notice at the time. He was staring directly at her rump, which
faced Jack indirectly, Sterling Hornher had the commanding view.
Susan Hornher's backside was presented to Jack's gaze and he found it
fascinating beyond speech. He could clearly see the vagina and puckered
butthole that he had heretofore only seen on the actresses and models of his
pornographical forays with Eddie. He leaned against the door frame, feeling
stunned and weakened. He prayed that neither parent would hear him, because he
was incapable of escaping at the moment. His penis, which felt strangely
large when he had awakened, now seemed to contain the majority of his life's
blood. It throbbed along in time with the wild beating of his heart.
His Mother's ass and vagina could not compare quality-wise with the younger
women Jack had seen in the movies and magazines. But she had an immediacy, if
only second-hand, that Jack could not believe. Her ass was larger than any
butt those models had, and her vagina seemed larger somehow, in a way that Jack
could not comprehend. Jack could sense a tension in the room, that he did not
understand. He knew they were, "having sex," but the intimacy he had expected
was missing. Then his Mother spoke and Jack was able to understand what was
going on, although he didn't figure out the ramifications until after the
divorce.
"One last time, and then we'll try something else?," Susan said, buried face
down in her pillow.
"Okay, one last try, but Christ, just loosen up willya? Or I'll have to take
you to hand" Sterling promised.
"All right," his mother sighed, resignedly.
Sterling Hornher's right hand came up off the bed where it had rested. He was
kneeling back on his haunches, on the bed within a foot of his wife's presented
backside. Jack finally noticed that his Mother's hands had been tied behind
her back as she presented her ass to her husband. She was tripoded on her
knees and head, which she kept buried in her pillow, as if to divorce herself
from the activity.
Jack stared in disbelief at his parents.
Sterling Hornher's left hand rested on the bottom of his wife's spine. His
left hand grasped an empty beer bottle by the neck. He brought the bottle to
the lips of his wife's waiting pussy. The bottle was large end first as it
contacted her flesh. Sterling pushed and rotated that bottle. The brown
bottle mashed the lips at the entrance of her vagina as she moaned in
discomfort. Sterling pushed harder, reaching down with his left hand to help
spread the lips of her pussy. Suddenly, her vagina yawned open to accept the
glass intruder and Susan yelped in sudden pain.
"Ahhhhhh!....okay, okay..oooh...."
Sterling paused to allow her to accept the girth of the bottle inside her body.
He waited impatiently, until her moans subsided, then steadily pushed the
bottle into her vagina until the slender neck was the only part of the bottle
left exposed. Susan moaned into her pillow either from discomfort or shame
Jack could not tell. Probably a little of both, he reasoned.
Then his father slowly eased the beer bottle almost out of his Mother's pussy
and pushed it back in, slamming the bottle into contact with her uterus. Susan
yelped again, but to Jack's ear it didn't sound as painful as her first cries
did. Sterling began fucking Jack's Mother with the bottle.
"How's that feel, Cunt?," he demanded.
Jack's mother was hard pressed to respond. "Uh....Uh....Uh..." she groaned in
response to his thrusts.
"Howzit feel?," he demanded again.
"Uh...Uh....Good...Uh...." Susan answered with her face now turned to the side
of her pillow.
Sterling Hornher growled, " Well then you'll love this part, bitch,"
With that, Sterling got onto his feet on the bed. He placed each leg outside
of his beleaguered wife's legs and aimed his large, angry penis at her
defenseless anus. The beer bottle lay buried to the neck in her vagina.
Jack watched through the door. He was beside himself with jealousy. His
father was enjoying his mother immensely while Jack's penis throbbed almost
painfully inside his underwear. He wondered if his Mother was enjoying this
weird activity or if she was just playing along and humoring his father.
Whatever the case, Jack felt like his soul was going to explode and his
strangely throbbing penis felt like the weakest link; the gateway to the
explosion.
Sterling Hornher's penis slid up and down the crack of his wife's ass. She
moaned, knowing exactly what was coming next. With practiced ease, Sterling
nestled his cockhead at his wife's anus, then pushed steadily. Susan felt the
burning of his cockhead pressing into her anus. It compounded the degradation
of the beer bottle inside her vagina and made her feel like a wanton slut.
That was the impetus she truly needed to come to orgasm. The discomfort she
felt when his penis penetrated her only added to her sense of stimulation. As
he reamed her ass with his 7 inch penis she concentrated on the feeling in both
her holes, filled simultaneously, and the her shameful fantasy of having two
men inside her at the same time. She had steadfastly resisted his attempts
to bring another male into their sex play to fill her in just such a way. That
would be wrong. That would be going too far.
However, it wasn't wrong to let your husband enjoy himself in a way that would
let her sleep, secure in the knowledge that her husband was satisfied in the
bedroom aspect of their marriage. So Susan endured such things as bottles and
whippings, and having a spouting cock forced into her mouth, fresh from her
vagina, though she told herself that she hated the very idea of such
activities. Nonetheless, she never failed to orgasm herself, repeatedly, she
amended lamely, although she told herself, not so much from the barbarity of
the specific activity, as the fact that she had again calmed her husband's
urges, as a good wife should...
Sterling Hornher pistoned his cock in and out of Susan's rectum, building
momentum toward his orgasm. Each thrust brought a slight gasp from his wife
which added greatly to his pleasure. The tightness of Susan's anus, and the
bottle in her pussy which kept poking at his sac, drove him over the edge.
With a muffled grunt, Sterling began to spasm far inside his wife's ass.
Susan recognized the signs of her husband's orgasm. The humiliation of what
was happening to her caused her to come suddenly and strongly again. The
bottle lodged in her pussy, stretched her immensely, contributing to her
pleasure. With a small whine in her throat, the familiar contractions began.
Her vagina and anus contracted quickly again and again.
The effect was not lost on Sterling, who grinned smugly. He knew that
humiliation and perverse practices worked the best on his woman--almost as
important as his huge cock, he conceded quickly.
Jack, leaning against the wall outside the door, felt his cock suddenly spasm
repeatedly inside his underwear. He was excited and mortified at the same
time, not knowing whether to creep away or hold his ground in the face of this
new sensation. He was afraid to touch his cock because he suspected what had
happened to him. He looked down at himself in the dim light coming out of his
parent's room. Sure enough, he could see a stain in the front of his
underpants.
Sterling had finished his business inside Susan's ass. With a satisfied sigh,
he pulled out of his wife's upraised backside, and stepped off the bed onto the
floor, wiping his manhood with a towel he had placed on the nightstand. With
one hand, he untied the simple knot binding Susan's hands behind her back. He
quickly stepped behind her to view her distended privates.
Susan's anus gaped slightly open, as cool air infiltrated her intestine.
Sterling's cum glistened wetly just inside her butt. Susan rolled off onto her
right side, and the magic moment was lost. Sterling reached over and eased the
beer bottle out of her pussy absently, already thinking of his job and the
things he had to do tomorrow. He carried the bottle into the master bathroom
and dropped it into the wastebasket.
Susan lay on the bed recovering from the last orgasm. She usually rolled away
from Sterling's view because she was ashamed to look at him and catch that smug
little smile that told her that he had once again looked into her soul and
found a willing soulmate for these depravities. Her pussy, still quivered and
some of the trapped air in her intestine chose that time to escape her dank
confinement.
Jack, finally convinced that the show was over, tiptoed back to his room and
crawled into bed.
He didn't sleep a wink that night...
Over the years since he had witnessed his parents having sex, Jack had learned
a lot about his Mother. Although the door to their room had since remained
closed to his prying eyes, his frequent inspections of their premises while
they where away confirmed to Jack that his Mother took her part in some deviant
forms of sexual activity. He had discovered a treasure trove of paraphernalia,
dildoes, restraint devices and whatnot inside a footlocker in the walk-in
closet. Many of the items he was not familiar with at the time, and the
muffled sounds coming out of their locked bedroom door hadn't served to provide
any explanations for their use.
The Internet however, had. In the time since his Father had left, Jack had
found the pictures on the net which explained to him exactly what types of sex
his parents had indulged in and he believed that it was a safe bet that his
Mother actually liked the humiliating and submissive role she played to his
Father. Jack liked thinking about his Mother that way. He found he couldn't
care less about his Father's part in the action, apart from the fact that he
greatly envied him.
In the time since the divorce, to his knowledge, Jack's Mom had not had any sex
with another man. Her dates were infrequent and apparently disappointing to
her and her date, and she got few chances at a second meeting. The treasure
trove, which had been left for her remained untouched in the small walk-in
closet of her new bedroom.
It was a Saturday night the night Jack changed her life. He had stayed home
alone, as he had become used to doing, waiting for her to return from yet
another useless "girls night out" with her friend, Hyacinth. The way these
things tended to work, she would get home around midnight, say a snappish
greeting and try to give him hell for being up so late. She was invariably
drunk, depressed and irritable when she got back from one of these outings.
Then she would go and take a extended shower and hit the sack. She was pretty
late tonight but that's still what Jack expected from this latest try when he
heard her mini-van pull into the driveway. It was when he heard another
vehicle pull into the drive that he leaped off the couch in alarm and looked
out the front window.
A pickup truck had pulled into the drive after his Mom and she was talking in
the darkness to a man.
That wasn't right. That was not the way her forays ended...
Jack bolted out of the living room when he heard her key at the front door.
Jack glided silently down the hallway to his bedroom. He reached around his
door and pushed the lock button on his bedroom door. Locked doors were nothing
new at the Hornher residence. Then he slipped into his mother's bedroom. He
felt his penis stiffen rock hard with excitement. At the instant his mother
opened the front door, Jack was clambering into the sliding-door closet of her
bedroom, heading into what he prayed was a less utilized portion of the closet.
He ended up sitting right on the treasure trove footlocker. For the first
time, he wondered just what the hell had prompted him to do this in the first
place. He must have a voyeuristic streak in him, he figured. The chances of
getting caught were pretty good actually because his mother liked to undress
and take her robe off it's accustomed hanger in the closet before she padded
down the hall to take her shower. That robe was brushing Jack's f ace as he
sat. He could smell his mother's comfortably feminine smell on the robe and he
rubbed his face around the material as he waited. His cock was threatening to
escape from his sweatsuit. Jack quickly dropped the pants down to his knees,
afraid to make any other noise. He placed his hand on his cock, which was
harder than a rock. Just touching it seemed to rouse it. Jack believed it
must have a mind of it's own--it certainly had led him into a closet five
seconds after it heard his mother coming. It certainly hadn't been a conscious
decision on Jack's part.
Susan Hornher let herself and her manfriend into her home. She was hoping
alternatively that Jack was still up and that he had already gone to bed. It
was after two in the morning after all, two hours past her normal return. She
hoped he hadn't worried. She was drunk and eager for a man's companionship.
This guy, she thought his name was Bill, had insisted on seeing her home from
the country bar she and Hyacinth had gone to. Hyacinth, seemingly amused, had
egged her into bringing him home for a "quickie." A quickie was the term
Hyacinth used to denote quick sex with a man unworthy of a relationship. A
quickie now and then, Hyacinth said, kept a divorced woman on track.
Susan Hornher was feeling indecisive when she entered her home. She decided
that if Jack was still up that she would turn and thank Bill for seeing her
home. If Jack was asleep in his room, then she would go for the quickie.
Susan looked and listened in the small entryway of the home. Jack was not
around, although she was puzzled because she still sensed his presence. Still,
he did not appear to be up, so she moved into the living room and allowed Bill,
who is right on my ass, she thought cheekily, into the home. Susan turned to
him and made the universal signal for quiet to Bill. She dumped her coat on
the couch and slipped down the hall. Jack's door was closed; she turned the
door knob silently to check that he really was asleep, but the door was
locked--not too unusual for him.
She returned to the living room and surveyed Bill hopefully. Susan was seeing
him for the first time in full light.
Bill was a man in his early forties, a twice-divorced city man tricked into
thinking country music was keeping him young and appealing. He stood about
six foot, weighed about 230 on a frame designed for no more than 200 pounds,
with the characteristic gut of a man who liked his night life. His hairline
had retreated and formed a last defensive stand on the high ground of his
skull. Cowboy hats were perfect for hiding things like that. His ability to
remember simple dances while intoxicated, along with his gentlemanly way of
paying for exotic drinks for her and Hyacinth had scored for him this night.
She was hoping for big things from Bill, maybe some of the things she and
Sterling used to do. She couldn't broach these subjects outright, and her
casual banter with him had only led her to believe that Bill's taste in sex was
strictly vanilla. But to a starved woman, even vanilla had it's appeal.
"So, what's going on, sugarlips?," Bill whispered on her return. Bill had
doffed his levi jacket and was sitting on the couch admiring his python skin
boots which had cost him two week's pay.
"My son's asleep," Susan reported with a rush of relief, feeling somewhat
ashamed to have Jack see this man in their home.
"Well, all right, howzabout we do the deed, purty lady--the night's wasting
away an' I gotta get ta work afore the sunrise."
For a store manager at Wal-Mart, Bill could affect quite a twang when called
upon, Susan reflected, then chided herself. Bill was a nice guy and a perfect
gentleman. Still she wondered, just how long a quickie had to last. She
definitely didn't want Bill around when her son, Jack awoke. The tryst would
give her something to off-handedly mention to Hyacinth, to prove that she could
bring home the link sausage if she wanted to, but altogether, it seemed pretty
sordid. Not that Bill was a any kind of prize--she and Hyacinth had seen him
at the bar at closing time often, going home empty-handed after buying scores
of drinks for divorced women and two-stepping until he could two-step no
more... Susan decided to skip the small talk.
"Let's go, she said, turning and walking down the hall towards her room. She
turned to tell Bill that they'd have to be quiet. Bill was walking behind her.
He had already slipped his boots off at the couch. He had unbuttoned his
western shirt at a furious pace and had dropped it on the floor of the hallway.
"Be quiet," Susan cautioned.
Bill grinned and nodded.
Susan turned on the light in her bedroom and stepped over to her side of the
bed. She quickly undressed herself and dove under the covers. Bill followed
suit, only too happy to be there, he was breaking a bad losing streak tonight.
Jack Hornher sat in the closet, agonizing over his situation. He wanted to
open the closet and announce his presence because he felt so embarrassed by
what he was doing. He had left the slightest sliver of the closet door open
and he had seen plenty. He knew his mother had checked on him and found his
door locked. He had heard the conversation, such as it was, with the
ridiculous guy. He did not want to watch. But his penis threatened to reach
forward and slide the closet door open itself if he entertained any more
thoughts of treason and Jack deferred to a stronger power.
Jack had watched his Mom intently as she entered the room and undressed. She
had unbuttoned her blouse and then her skirt. Both items fell to the floor.
She had reached behind her with the practiced motion of her kind and unclasped
her bra faster than any man could. The bra fell to the floor, leaving her
standing in her panties. She peeled the Sears panties down her tummy and onto
the floor.
Susan stood motionless for one instant, unwittingly allowing Jack a chance to
look at her. Her skin was white and untanned--she did not go in for sunning.
Her breasts were a fair size, bigger than anything Jack had been able to get
his hands on. They sagged in the classic fashion that Jack had grown to adore.
Her stomach and abdomen tended to pooch out over her panties, but she was
certainly not grotesque in any way. Her butt, as she turned to dive into bed,
was white and full, two heavy, motherly moons beaming with the mysteries Jack
dearly wanted to solve.
The mystery man quickly followed his Mother into the bedroom, dragging his levi
pants down along with his underwear, almost tripping to get to the bed. His
pants off, Bill, almost slipped into bed alongside Jack's Mom until he whirled
back around to turn off the light.
"Leave it on," Jack's Mom whispered intently, hoping Bill would start catching
the signal that she wanted something, anything racy or humiliating to get her
juices flowing.
"Okey-dokey," Bill replied, whirling back again and sliding under the covers on
the other side of the bed.
"I'm on the Pill, but do you have protection?" Susan asked, anxious and worried
and turned on all at the same time.
"If you're on the Pill, we're all set. Ah'm clean. I don't get around as much
as some of the ladies think," Bill answered. He knew it was time to make his
move before her inhibitions threw him off the horse.
"How about we...," Susan started before Bill suddenly rolled over onto her.
His bulk on top of her was suffocating, yet comforting. It reminded her of
Sterling, taking charge and getting the best out of her. She hoped for good
things to come.
Bill had other thoughts though. He balanced his weight on one hand, and
grasped his thickening penis with the other. He brought his penis to the lips
of her vagina and inserted himself. She was wet enough to permit his entry.
Bill preferred to just get down to business before this woman started thinking
too much and maybe kicking him out of bed because he didn't have a condom.
Additionally, Bill was under the impression that his intercourse with a woman
was highly pleasing to them and usually they didn't regret the lack of foreplay
once they had a taste of Wild Bill and his trained penis, Little Bill.
Bill always counted on his intoxication to slow him down and keep him steady
for the full nine innings. What Bill hadn't counted on the stadium lights
being on, and the thought that this woman had a son sleeping just down the
hall. Bill found these things highly arousing, even in his inebriated state.
Little Bill thrust and thrust and a dozen thrusts farther he spent himself
inside Susan.
Susan, after the initial shock of having Bill climb onto her and work himself
into her, had relaxed and concentrated on the feeling of being used by Bill; it
made her feel degraded and wanton. What Bill was failing to provide her
mentally she was providing herself and it was working. Then she suddenly felt
Bill stiffen and start to grunt intensely. She knew that he was coming, and
she was disappointed. She still felt dirty and slutty, but now just in
aftersex sort of way. She only wanted this to be over and to get a long hot
shower with her showerwand. She had finally got into the game after sitting
the bench for months and she had merely been put in as a catcher. At times,
like this she really regretted splitting up with Sterling.
Bill was mortified. His one good pitch, a slow curveball, had turned into a
fastball and he didn't have any pitches left in the repertoire to save the
game. He would try to pitch again tomorrow in a different stadium, he told
himself. The ball doesn't carry well here. He quickly decided to throw out a
face-saving gambit and head for the showers.
"Uh...did you, uhh, you know...?: he asked awkwardly.
"Yes, Bill, I did," Susan lied, feeling sorry for poor Bill
"Uh....that's good....I gotta run....I gotta let my dog out, and uh, I gotta
get some sleep," Bill finished lamely, pulling out of Susan and heading for his
clothes. His clothes, if anything, went on even faster than they had come off.
Jack, in the closet, had a pretty fair guess about what had gone on. He hadn't
seen anything because they were under the covers, but he sensed embarrassment
on both their parts and his own shame had been replaced by intense interest in
the expression on his mother's face. He hadn't touched himself, because he
wanted to come when she did. That hadn't happened--that hadn't happened at
all. Jack had went from being a highly excited peeping tom to a sixteen year
old trapped in his mother's closet.
Bill, having finished his hurried dressing, made vague promises to call Susan
in the future, maybe to get together sometime, made a hasty exit from the
bedroom. She heard the front door open and shut and within a few seconds,
heard the pickup truck start up and leave the driveway. She was disheartened
by the quick performance and the unsatisfied feeling in her cunt. Bill's semen
hadn't even started to drip out of her and he was already gone. She hoped all
these "quickies" weren't so unfulfilling.
Susan sighed, and threw off the covers. She had to lock the front door and
start the shower running. She'd go to the kitchen and have a cigarette while
she waited for the water to warm up. Susan got out of bed and went to the
closet. She slid the door wider and grabbed her flannel robe, which was the
first garment she saw in the closet. She put it on and padded out to lock up.
Jack made his move as soon as he heard his mother lock the front door and turn
on the shower. He pulled his pants back up and fairly leaped out of the
closet. It had been too close when his mother had opened the closet. He had
been sitting next to her robe when she grabbed it off the hanger. Had she been
paying attention he would have been caught. It started him to thinking. What
if he had been caught? What would he have said? What would she have said in
the presence of "Bill"? It would have embarrassed her immensely, which was
part of her turn-on as far as he knew. Although her turn-on probably didn't
include finding her son in the closet in the presence of a man she hardly knew.
Jack eased quickly out of the closet and hid behind his mother's bedroom door
in case she came back from the hallway bathroom. He could not hear any sound
from the shower, and nothing broke the fall of the water. Then he heard the
sound of a cupboard in the kitchen and he knew she was in the kitchen having a
cigarette. Jack slipped out and unlocked his bedroom door with the nail they
kept over the door. He eased the door open to indicate, should the need arise,
that he had awakened and left his bedroom. Jack scrambled out of his sweatsuit
which he tossed onto the floor of his room. He left his underwear on.
Jack made a decision based in large part on the raging hormones and his need
for release. He hoped he could appeal to his Mother's sense of humiliation.
It would be so much safer to beat off and go to sleep. Hell, he had that down
to a science, but he figured this was his one good chance to make a fantasy
into a reality. And Mom had just had an unpleasant reality herself.
Jack walked silently through the carpeted hallway and living room, collecting
his thoughts. His mind was racing as he walked into the kitchen and found his
Mother, with her robe unbelted, absently tweaking her left nipple while she sat
smoking at the kitchen table. Her robe was unbelted, as she didn't think Jack
was awake.
"Nasty habit, Mom," Jack said striding into the room.
"Jack! Oh, I didn't know you were awake!," Susan squealed, almost dropping the
cigarette out of her mouth in her haste to cover herself. She wondered if Jack
had seen her fingers on her nipple. She feared that he had, and she prayed
that he was referring to her smoking as nasty.
"What's nasty? My smoking right?" she faltered, feeling the familiar,
comforting sense of shame wash warmly over her.
"Well, that too," Jack answered non-commitally, striding over to the fridge and
popping out one of the bottles of beer that her brothers had left from the time
they moved her into this house. He opened the twist off top and sat down, not
across the kitchen table from her, but right next to her. She felt the robe
couldn't be wrapped too many times around her body at the moment.
"Jack, what do you think you're doing? I don't allow you to drink alcohol,
you're only sixteen. And it's past two in the morning--what do you think
you're doing sneaking up on me like that? You almost gave me a heart attack,
you son of a bitch!." Susan worked her anger up from her shame, trying to get
control of the situation.
"Now pour that beer out in the sink and get your ass to bed! And what filthy
habit?" she hissed, knowing automatically that she shouldn't have passed the
conversational torch back to him.
"Huh," Jack answered thoughtfully, slouched confidently in the chair, staring
her right in the face. Susan Hornher realized at that point, how much Jack
resembled the casual, cocky manner of her ex-husband. He seemed very much at
ease with her shame, almost seem to revel in causing her to feel degraded. He
did not say anything. Slowly, his eyes, which held hers in a thoughtful gaze,
moved down her body slowly, drinking in her neck and shoulders, and pausing
more than a decent interval on her robed chest. Susan felt the momentum turn.
She fought for control
"Did you hear me? Did you hear me?! I told you to get to bed! Answer me!"
"So, how did your evening go? You were out awful late," Jack asked simply,
ignoring her anger easily on the surface, struggling to maintain his poise,
although his heart was beating a mile a minute. He took a swig from the beer
bottle, watching her over the bottle as he swallowed. He hoped his hand wasn't
shaking. He thought he could see an extra flush to her face as he stared back
at her face, but he could not be sure. He forced himself to act casual sitting
next to her.
His mother gasped at his audacity. She struggled for words.
"What?! How did my evening go? What business is that of yours at two in the
morning?! I'm just sitting here minding my own business when you come in her
and scare the shit out of me, and now you think you can just sit there and talk
to me like its no big deal?!," Susan demanded, still wondering what was going
on with Jack, all of the sudden, he didn't seem like the boy she had raised.
He seemed like his father.
"Scared the what out of you? Did you say, I scared the "shit" out of you?,
Jack asked quietly, sipping his beer and looking intently at his Mother. Yes,
he thought, she did blush when he said that. Keep it up, keep the intensity up
he urged himself.
"Yes, I said you scared the shit out of me," Susan echoed, almost whispering
the word. "What's gotten into you?--you're acting weird and it's scaring me."
"Tell me," she pleaded, looking into his face, aching to know what was going on
in their little home. She felt ashamed that he had caught her feeling her
nipple, and worried that he knew about her quickie with Bill.
"So, I'm sleeping in my lonely bed, when you got home. I hear you get home
with some guy. I'm thinking, Huh! this is something new. My mom, bringing
home a date. That hasn't happened before. I'm laying in bed when you try to
come into my room to see if your little boy is sleeping. Then you guys go into
your bedroom."
Susan buried her face in her hands and moaned.
Jack continued, " You leave your bedroom door open and you left the light on.
I unlock my door and what do I see when I step out? Some guy on top of my mom,
slipping the beef to her!"
Jack stopped and took a long swig of his beer, feeling more and more confident.
Susan waited for him to continue--she knew he wasn't done. She was mortified.
When he said, "on top of my mom," her vagina seemed to swell, engorged with
blood and tingling . She suspected Jack could smell her if he leaned any
closer to her.
Jack waited a short time, until her hands started to move from her face. Then
he resumed. "So this Bill is fucking you. He only goes about twenty seconds
then he comes. I'm watching your face. Seemed kind of disappointed didn't
you? You were expecting more, weren't you? I felt I should go in and tap the
guy on the shoulder and tell him how bad he's fucked up. But you lie to him
and off he goes."
Susan raised her face to him. She had tears in her eyes. She wanted to say
how sorry she was that he had seen that. She wanted to explain how a grown
woman had needs and how she had made a mistake. She wanted to tell him that
she missed his father sometimes. She wanted to say how much he had grown and
that she appreciated how hard he worked around the house and that the only
thing missing from her life now was a man. She wanted to say anything that
would end this kitchen table encounter. Her cigarette had burned down in her
fingers; she stubbed it out hurriedly and lit a new cigarette with shaking
hands. She ignored the tingling of her clitoris, stimulated by her humiliation
at the words of her son.
She raised her burning face to him and all words were struck from her mind.
Jack had finished his beer. Jack had inverted the empty beer bottle. It lay in
his fist, fat side up toward the ceiling. Jack stared intently at her.
Susan Hornher, flushed beet red by the unspoken insinuation that Jack knew what
it took to get her stimulated. She felt her left hand slide off the kitchen
table to rest on her lap, partially hidden under the table. She knew that
Jack, whose eyes never left hers, had nonetheless noted the movement. She was
afraid she was going to stroke her crotch right in front of him if she couldn't
end this conversation. She fumbled for something to say.
"Jackie....I..." she started.
"Jackie...I...What?," Jack cocked his head to look at her. "Jackie, I just let
some loser hose my cunt with his sperm? Jackie, I'm leaking right here in this
chair while we're talking? Jackie, I'm ashamed right now to be discussing
what's going to happen next?"
"Yes! Yes! I'm ashamed!," Susan screamed and burst out crying, burying her head
in her arms on the table.
Jack let her sob a few minutes and then said quietly, "Mom, go turn off the
shower and get into bed"
His mother raised her head warily with alarm in her eyes. "You're telling me
to go to bed? My son is sending me to my room--is that how low I've sunk,
Jack? Is that what your old Mom has come to? Was I caught screwing and now
I'm being punished? Is that it Jack?. Susan seemed to be on the verge of
hysteria Jack thought. Bear down, he told himself.
"Mom, go turn off the shower. I made a mistake when I told you to get into
bed, and I'm sorry," Jack reached over and stroked his Mother's hair
reassuringly. "What I meant to say was Get On The Bed."
Susan stiffened and went pale. "What?," she whispered, not believing her ears.
"It's very simple, mother," Jack explained with a patience he did not feel.
"Turn off the shower, get onto your bed"
"And then what?" Susan whispered, unbelievingly.
"You wait for me"
"Jack, I can't--we--you're..."
Jack got up slowly out of his chair. He grabbed his mother's hands with his
own and pulled her gently to her feet. He gazed down at her, then pulled her
close, rubbing his groin against her stomach and placing his hands down her
lower back onto the tops of her ass cheeks. Susan remained stiff, the blood
pounding in her veins. She knew she wanted this and she knew it was wrong.
When her clitoris rubbed up against his the top of his thigh she almost moaned
aloud. She couldn't think straight.
"Go," he commanded her.
"I...I...-I'll lock my door," she stammered, afraid to even look up at his
face.
"No you won't," Jack answered knowingly, "You know you've got dues to pay, and
the sooner the better, right Mom?" Susan didn't answer.
Jack disengaged his embrace. He took Susan gently by the shoulders and turned
her towards the bedroom. He gave her a gentle shove. Susan staggered for a
step, then caught her balance. It looked like she was sleepwalking through the
living room and down the hall. She paused at the end of the hall before
heading into the bathroom to turn off the shower.
Jack listened. His mother was in the bathroom for about ten seconds before she
moved the shower curtain and slowly turned the shower off. She bumped into the
bathroom door on the way out. She then walked quietly into her bedroom and
Jack heard the sound of the mattress springs creaking as she clambered onto the
bed. Mom was at ground zero. Jack heaved a sigh of relief. He felt shaky and
weak after maintaining the outward insolence and confidence he needed to get
the best of Susan. He had won the first battle. Now he had to win the war.
Jack was off to win her heart and mind and hopefully some of the choicer pieces
too.
Susan was dazed as she walked into her bedroom. She could not believe this was
happening and she had no way to stop it. I tried, she told herself, I tried,
but it didn't work. He wants it and I can't stop him. It's wrong--and it's
wrong the way I'm wet and ready. He's just a boy--just my son, and he's got
power over me. Just like Sterling did.
Without conscious thought, Susan had pulled the sheets down on the bed and
crawled settled atop on all fours in the middle of the bed, just like she used
to when she was married. She heard Jack approaching.
Jack paused outside Susan's open bedroom door and gathered his courage. He
gazed at his mother on all fours on her bed, waiting for him. He hadn't told
her what to do and she had done it anyway. She was presenting herself to him,
he told himself excitedly. Her backside was presented and ready for action.
She had left her robe on, but that just made it more erotic. Mom in her old,
comfortable robe, in the position.
Jack stepped through the open doorway. He was operating on instinct now. His
goal was to keep Susan humiliated and off-balance until he had accomplished his
goal--a couple of satisfying orgasms that didn't involve his hand and, wish
beyond wishes, to lay the groundwork for a whole new style of relationship with
his mother. He wanted at least a semi-willing participant when he was through.
Jack stared at his mother. With one hand, he reached behind him and swung her
bedroom door shut. When it closed loudly, not a slam mind you, he told
himself, it shut with a final authority. He jumped inwardly, his senses were
highly attuned.
Susan, on the bed had heard Jack come into her room. His pause inside her door
was electrifying to her. She wondered what he was thinking as he watched her,
like a mother slut, ready for her son's activities inside the womb that had
bore him. When the door shut, she flinched and gasped. Her vagina, sheathed
under the final protection of her robe, gaped open momentarily, then resealed.
She was at fever pitch, she knew, and all her being centered on her privates,
soon to be displayed to her child. He spoke, and she jumped at the sound of
his voice.
"Gotta close the door, Mom. We wouldn't want anyone walking in on us would
we?"
Susan couldn't answer.
"Wouldn't want Bill coming back to take a pair of souvenir panties off you to
show the boys at work, would we?"
Susan burned crimson at the thought and the Kegal muscles of her pelvic floor
squeezed in an involuntary response.
"Wouldn't want anyone to see that footlocker full of stuff you keep in your
closet, would you?"
Susan gasped with shock.
Jack moved towards the bed; each wooden footfall sending a shock up his leg and
through his spine up to his head. He felt hot, almost sweating. Butterflies
launched themselves from the floor of his stomach. Gotta get my eyes on the
prize, he told himself, before this whole thing falls apart on me.
Jack sat down on the bed behind his mother, with his feet on the floor. His
mom, in her servile position, seemed to be quivering, almost imperceptibly.
"I probably should have told you to take off your robe first--you've probably
leaked that guys sap on it. You'll have to wash it tomorrow eh?," Jack asked,
hoping his mother would answer and allow him to get a read on her emotional
state.
Susan didn't answer.
Jack moved fully onto the bed. "Time to raise the curtain the first act," he
murmured, almost to himself. He grasped the hem of Susan's robe and peeled it
up her thighs to rest on the top of her ass. Jack got the view his father had
owned and walked away from without a backward glance.
Susan trembled when Jack pulled her robe up her thighs to expose her to his
eyes. She felt incredibly aroused by the thought that she was being displayed
to her son. I'm under his power, she thought, I'm under his spell.
Jack was enraptured at the site of his mother's backside. Her entire body was
an alabaster white, the creaminess broken by the terrain relief of panty lines,
moles and small, bluish veins marbling the essential softness of her skin. He
found these features to be visually appealing.
Jack focused on the cheeks of her ass, presented to his view. Susan's ass,
full now that she approached her middle years, sagged invitingly when she
walked. In this position however, her ass seemed perfect to him, the perfect
size to caress endlessly, the perfect size to bump against. Jack spread her
cheeks slightly to inspect.
Susan's brown-red anus peeked out at him. It winked, then remained motionless
to his gaze. Jack blinked, then closed and reopened her cheeks gently to see
if it would happen again. It didn't.
His mother's skin seemed so warm to his hands. He stroked and clenched his
hands on her buttcheeks and thighs. Her thighs, heavy without exercise,
flapped when he moved them. He wanted to lean in and smell the smells that
hinted at his nose a foot and a half away, but Bill had left something there
that had to be removed first. That much he knew, and it fell within the game.
Susan, at Jack's first touch, had a very small orgasm. His hands were hot and
moist on her as he inspected her private parts. When he spread her cheeks, her
vagina opened and hollowed out, as it always did prior to an orgasm. His slow
hands were excruciating to her.
Jack examined the fabric of his mother's robe where it rested on her back.
Yes, there was a small glop of something there, about where she would sit. He
parted her cheeks again and examined her pussy. Susan's pussy lips were
definitely wettened by something other than her own juice, Jack judged. Okay.
"You still got Bill's cum in you, just as I suspected. It's on your robe too"
Susan moaned and shifted her position, but didn't answer.
"What can we do to clean you up before we proceed?," Jack asked his mother.
Susan, motionless as a statue, did not answer.
Jack moved up the bed and surveyed her face buried in a pillow. He placed one
hand on her back, leaned down towards her ear.
"Got any suggestions, Mom?"
No response.
"Answer me. Got any suggestions as to how we can get rid of Bill's sperm?"
Susan squirmed nervously before whispering "no," from the depths of her pillow.
Jack sighed, then resumed.
"Then you're in luck, Mom. I think I can collect his sap and rid you of the
embarrassment your activities caused here tonight. It's a good thing I grabbed
this teaspoon before I left the kitchen. I thought it might come in handy."
Jack moved back to his position at his mother's upraised butt. He pushed at
the inside of her thighs and noted that she accommodated him immediately by
spreading herself wider. Her pussy now gaped invitingly at him.
Jack rubbed the rounded side of the spoon gently against the lips of her pussy,
gathering wetness from her. He rubbed the spoon on her clitoris, eliciting
sighs from his mother. Then he set to work.
Jack turned the spoon over and grazed it over the inner lips. Not much here,
he thought. He slid the spoon into his mother's vagina and scraped it around
in circles. Her pussy almost twisted the spoon out of his hand. He pulled it
back out for inspection.
"Now we're talking Mom! Thatta Girl!," he shouted excitedly. Susan flinched.
The teaspoon held a bit of Bill's residue in it. Jack reinvested the spoon
slowly and did a thorough job. When it emerged, it held more of the essence of
Bill. Probably, all he would get after this time, he thought. Well, that
wasn't the point of the exercise anyway--It's the thought that counts, he
decided.
Jack bounced excitedly up to the head of Susan's bed. Her face, buried in the
pillow, shifted away to the right, away from his body. Jack put a leg on the
floor and leaned over his mother to see her face.
"C'mon Ma! Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down! Head's up! "
Jack held the spoon at head height. Susan remained silent, adjusting her
position automatically to maintain her balance amid Jack's excited movements on
her bed.
"C'mon Ma, it's this spoon--it's not even close to full--or I get your
toothbrush and we whiten your teeth. You won't wake up with minty fresh breath
that way," Jack sang.
Susan's head moved. She's considering her options, Jack thought.
"C'mon Ma, it's the lesser of two evils," Jack whispered. Susan's head
swiveled 180 degrees to face him. Or at least face his direction.
Jack removed his other left from the bed and stood facing his mother's left
side. His penis, poked furiously at the confinement of his underwear. Jack
felt like he could blast at any second. Had to keep the game moving.
Jack reached his right hand around Susan's rump and started to play with her
pussy and clitoris. He held the spoon with it's load, right up at her face.
Susan's eyes were closed like she was concentrating. Her backside pushed at
his hand, and she moaned back in the throat. Jack watched.
Susan, was mortified by the spoon Jack was using to clean her out. Even
Sterling had never conceived anything like that. She had orgasmed, clasping
the spoon, almost flipping it out of Jack's hand. Now he wanted her to open
her mouth and take it in. He promised a worse torture if she didn't. She
couldn't have him brush her teeth with Bill's semen. She couldn't.
When Jack started rubbing her pussy, she came again, a series of small,
fluttering orgasms. She decided.
Susan's mouth opened. Jack gaped at her face, eyes shut, mouth open. He could
see a filling.
"Head up, Ma," Jack whispered intently, his voice almost breaking with the
tension. His penis lurched inside his underpants, almost at the point of
betrayal.
Susan lifted her head several inches off the pillow, eyes closed, her head
coming forward to accept the gift. Jack slowly brought the spoon to her
outstretched mouth. He placed the spoon in her mouth. Susan's mouth remained
open for several seconds, then, with a shudder, she closed her mouth on it.
Jack was struck dumb. His hand forgot it's task on her privates. Susan nodded
almost imperceptibly. Jack pulled the spoon millimeter by millimeter from her
mouth.
The spoon was clean.
Susan lay with her head turned toward her son. Her mouth was filled with the
taste of Bill's bleachy, salty, cum. She wondered if she should swallow or
wait for Jack to tell her. She had reached a point of humiliation that she
hadn't felt was possible before tonight. Her vagina yawned and snapped shut
based solely on the emotions she was feeling at the moment. She heard Jack's
feet shuffling on the carpet. She kept her eyes screwed shut and waited.
Jack knew that he wouldn't be losing his virginity inside her mother's
mysterious vagina that night. There was no time. He was afraid that any
sudden movement would send him spurting into his underpants, and if that
happened he knew his mother's eyes would fly open and catch him in an
embarrassing moment of his own. Couldn't let that happen. Jack tore his gaze
off his mother's pretty face and stared at the ceiling until he had mastered
his penis again. Then he quickly stepped out of his underpants, kicking them
off his right foot impatiently. He had to say something to Susan, to let her
know he was still in control. His penis beat a drum of rebellion as he faced
his mother.
"Closer to the edge and open your mouth," was the best he could manage.
His mom suspected what was coming next. She swallowed and moved her face
closer to his body. She opened her mouth. She spoke.
Jack pressed his knees against the mattress, his penis raced him towards
Susan's face and won by about six inches. When she spoke, he almost spurted in
alarm.
"The bottle?"
"What?...," Jack asked stupidly. "Bottle?"
"That bottle?" Susan whispered.
"Bottle?," Jack echoed, trying to grasp what she was trying to impart. Oh, he
suddenly realized. Oh, the Bottle. Jack considered briefly, then reached his
decision.
He turned and flew to the bedroom door, pausing just long enough to open it
before flying down the hall, penis bouncing angularly as he ran. He grabbed
the bottle off the kitchen table and whirled to turn and run back again before
something bad happened to the game. Then he stopped, whirled again and dashed
to the small pantry closet. He grabbed the small plastic bottle of canola oil,
unscrewing it with his teeth. He poured the oil onto the bottle and dropped
the canola oil back onto the shelf. On the run back to the bedroom, he
massaged the oil onto the beer bottle. He raced back into his former position,
heart beating wildly. Nothing appeared to have changed in the 17 seconds he
had been gone. Good.
He walked to the foot of the bed and climbed on. He viewed his mother's
posterior with urgent interest. He scooted up into position and started to
work his mother's pussy with the oil coating his left hand. Susan moaned at
his ministrations, inflating his skull with good, hard thoughts. Maybe he
should stay down here and get some business done. He sniffed his left hand
surreptitiously. Oh my, he thought giddily. I've got to go...
Susan felt Jack fiddling with the lips of her cunt, lubing her, she thought,
for the invasion. Then she felt the bottle, bottom end first, pushing against
her lips, battering it's way. She shifted and pushed back. For a moment, the
bottle perched on the edge of her chasm, then toppled massively suddenly into
her void. Susan gave a little shriek of pain from the sudden intrusion into
her cunt. She gasped and panted, struggling to overcome the discomfort. Jack
watched, his hand still on the neck of the bottle. He was ready to pull it
out. It appeared to be hurting her too much. Then Susan pushed back. The
bottle, braced in his hand, sank the last few centimeters into her maw. Jack
whistled mentally. Wow, he thought. He sank back on his haunches for a minute
to admire the spectacle. The bottle neck protruded from Susan's cunt. Her
lips stretched to accommodate the girth of the brown glass phallus. Her
rectum, exposed to his eyes, was oval now, instead of the starred brown circle
he had first seen.
Susan felt stretched beyond recent memory. Her pussy clenched around the
invader, and she was close, oh so close, to the big and final orgasm that
would leave her sore and satisfied. Push, she thought, Push.
Jack shook himself out of his reverie. It's time, he told himself, it's time.
Jack scooted off the bed to stand at Susan's head, his cock jutting like a
saber towards the ceiling. Time for the last act.
"Open"
Susan shivered with the implication of obeying such an order. She froze.
"Open your mouth," Jack whispered.
Susan remained motionless, eyes tightly shut. Then her face relaxed, and her
mouth opened. Her neck craned forward to the place she heard him speak. Jack
placed his knees against the high mattress and leaned forward. His bent his
cock to the horizontal. It stopped within an inch of her mouth. Her
exhalations blew warm moist breath on him. Jack pulled her neck gently towards
his penis and Susan appropriately shifted her whole body to the his edge of the
bed. Her mouth lay waiting for him.
Jack took a mental deep breath and began. He groped for the bottle, never
taking his eyes off his mother's beautiful face. He worked the bottle in and
out of her vagina, her moans warming the tip of his penis. After a few
seconds, he leaned his body forward and his cockhead entered Susan's mouth.
Susan, expecting this last humiliation, felt her son's penis enter her mouth.
She closed her mouth gently on his penis, holding him there, resting on her
tongue. She felt him pistoning the bottle inside her. She felt so full.
"Now open your eyes"
Susan blinked her closed eyes, unsure that she had heard right.
"Open your eyes," the command came again. Susan remained motionless.
"Hurry!," the command came urgently.
Susan opened her eyes for an instant, gazing down the length of her son's penis
to his pubis.
Jack watched her eyes flutter open, then close. He was about to try again,
when his mother's eyes opened wide and she stared at his crotch. The warm, wet
pressure of her mouth upon his penis sent him to the brink. He leaned over his
abdomen over her head, resting his weight on his arms. He thrust his penis
slowly in and out of her mouth.
Watching himself, he ejaculated into his mother.
Susan, staring wildly at her son, suddenly tasted the sperm he was emptying
into her mouth. Her final orgasm exploded for her, Her pussy clenched and
unclenched around the beer bottle. She felt the flutter of her stomach muscles
as the contractions gripped her regularly and finishing with an intermittent
series. She felt languid and spent, with her son's penis laying in her mouth.
His ejaculate reminded her distinctly of Sterling's.
Jack rested his weight on his forearms, while he caught his breath. His
prostate was throbbing, and his legs were shaky. He gathered his strength.
His penis throbbed gently, relaxing now inside Susan's mouth. Jack believed he
could go on forever in this position. Nothing he had done to himself had ever
approached the feeling he had right now.
Susan slowly slumped down onto her tummy, the bottle sticking incongruously out
of her. She waited, as she would have for Sterling.
Jack knew the game was over. It was time to put the toys away. He hoped to
take something away from the encounter that would portend a long and happy
summer for himself.
Jack pushed back onto his feet, his penis slipping out of Susan's mouth. He
looked to see if she would swallow; she didn't. Her face, eyes staring
vacantly past him, remained relaxed.
Jack moved to the foot of the bed and threw one knee onto the bed. He surveyed
her buttocks, her legs spread slightly because of the bottle. He grasped the
bottle and removed it slowly. His mother didn't move; she only gasped
slightly. Her vagina, freed from the circumference of the intruder, gaped open
like a mouth, then slowly closed loosely.
Jack placed the bottle quietly into the wastebasket next to his mother's
dresser. He was waiting for a signal from his mother that everything was all
right or all wrong. He needed a clue to her feelings.
She spoke tiredly. "This is never going to happen again...Never again"
He remained silent. Her words hadn't brought a response to his mind.
"I don't know how this happened...how I let you talk me into this...but it was
wrong-I was wrong...this shouldn't have happened. I can't even look at you in
the face. What kind of mother am I? What kind of mother has sex with her son?
I've failed," she concluded, "first as a wife, and now this."
Jack moved back to her and stroked her hair. She lay on her stomach facing
him, with her eyes closed. Jack suspected she would begin to cry.
"Look, I don't know why Dad left you. I'd guess you don't and he doesn't know
either. You were a good wife to him from what I know, and you've always been a
good mother. This doesn't matter. This doesn't mean anything. Hey, we were
happy at the old place. We're not so happy here. At least not yet. It'll
take time, but we'll be all right. We've got each other." Susan stiffened.
"I'm just saying, Jack said hurriedly, "that we're a team. We were a team of
three when you and Dad were married, but he's gone now, and that leaves us.
Your life isn't over-you haven't failed at anything. Someday you'll find
someone and you can be happy with him, like you were with Dad. It'll happen, I
know it will. This was just a little game, something for both of us. It
doesn't mean anything. And it was good. And that's what matters. For a short
time I mean, nothing mattered. You're a beautiful woman and a good mother.
Don't think about this too much, don't think about it in the morning. I've got
things to do and so do you. Tomorrow, we'll clean the house. Maybe get a
pizza for dinner, rent a movie or something. Just relax, and get ready for
Monday. Come Saturday, you go out again with Hyacinth."
Susan rested, comforted by his words, sleepy and ready for bed. "I don't think
men like my looks anymore," she said. "I'm getting old."
"You've still got your looks, and something like this drives any guy crazy-it
makes him feel like a man, I'll tell you that," Jack promised.
"How did you know about my talent?," Susan asked, turning and looking directly
at him.
Jack didn't answer immediately. He busied himself by pulling the sheet and
blanket over his mother's naked form, making her comfortable. "Your talent?."
"That I liked it...different?," Susan asked, blushing.
"I saw the stuff in that box in the closet once before we moved," Jack lied, as
much for his mother as for himself.
"Oh, I see," his mother answered. "But why the beer bottle?, she asked
impulsively, watching him.
"The box was locked and I didn't have a key-and I didn't think you'd tell me
where it was."
Susan rested.
"You did like it though, right?" Jack blurted, anxiously. He waited and waited
for a response, the air in the room cold now.
"Yes," came his mother's reply, almost inaudibly. Jack smiled with relief. He
stooped down to pick up his underpants off the floor. "I'll see you tomorrow,
Mom."
"Okay," his mother answered. Jack turned to walk out of her bedroom, to leave
her alone with her thoughts.
"Jack?"
"What?"
Silence filling the space in the conversation, Jack waited.
"The key is taped to the bottom of my jewelry box on the dresser"
"Okay, Goodnight Mom, I love you." Jack's soul was singing.
"I love you too. Goodnight," his mother answered.
The End....at least for now...
Comments to a.s.s.d or a.s.s. or a.s.s.i or to
Shakespeare_I._Aint@mailexcite.com. But be advised, I'm not an English teacher
and I prefer content over form. I ran this thing thru a spellcheck, then sent
it out to play. If you want to correct and post again, have at it.
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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