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From: Phil Phantom <pp@philphantom.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Bosom Buddies
Date: Sat, 31 Mar 2001 08:10:04 -0500
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<1st attachment, "bosom-buddies-pp.txt" begin>

                            Bosom Buddies
                          By: Phil Phantom
                       HTTP://PhilPhantom.Com

I am the horniest fifteen-year-old boy on the planet, mostly
because I have the sexiest, most beautiful mom on the planet - at
least I think so. She could pose in any of the classy men's
magazines and be the centerfold. Those models are super women.
You never see them except in magazines. Well, I live with a super
woman. Maybe she's too old for posing in girlie magazines, now,
and maybe I'm prejudiced. I know one thing, I'd rather see her
naked in pictures than any of those women in real life.  I'd
crawl over twenty masturbating centerfolds just to watch my mom
take a shit in a bucket.

My mother was the super woman that was still a mystery. I had
seen what they had in pictures, but I never saw what mom had in
real life.  I never saw much of anything, and most guys I know
see something. Most have seen their mom in bra and panties. I
know guys who see their moms naked all the time and think nothing
of it. I've seen their moms, and I wouldn't either.

The actress, Julia Roberts, looks a lot like my mom, though Mom
has bigger tits. Mom wears a 36-DD bra and I read somewhere that
Julia is a D. I don't know how much bigger a DD is over a D, but
I can see the difference.  The difference sure shows when Mom
wears her swim suit - a conservative two piece but the top cups
from under and shows the upper swells of her breasts like a boob
presenter - hooters on the half shell. 

Mom has great legs, long shapely legs, but just seeing half of
her titties makes me so hard and so obvious, I can't get near her
when she looks her best. I have to wear a jock with a protective
cup and that hurts when you get a hardon. When she bends over in
front of me, I have to stifle a blood curdling scream.

My mom has hooters, big boobs, hunkin knockers and she hates when
guys stare at them or talk to them. Shit, it's hard not to. I
mean, there they are, out there, in your face. I can't help but
look, and I try like hell not to. I may be the main guy she's
talking about when she complains about breast men and how
juvenile they are. She has never said anything to me, but she's
not the type to hurt my feelings on purpose. She only hurts my
feelings when I eaves drop. She won't look at my hardons, either.
If she does catch one, she'll look away. Thank god, because I'm
always getting them around her.

I have seen cleavage, lots of cleavage when she and Dad get
dressed up to go out. They do that a lot. She thinks cleavage is
sexy and letting the top part of her breasts show is sexy. Her
swim suit sure is sexy when she leans forward. What she shows all
depends on the dress and the occasion. I haven't seen a dress or
an occasion when showing golden-tanned tittie flesh didn't look
sexy. 

The only time I ever get to see anything is when she is trying on
various dresses and shoe combinations and Janet, my older sister,
isn't there to give an opinion. Mom has to know how she looks. If
I'm the last resort, I get drafted. When I get drafted, I make
damn sure I have something to hold in front of my dick.

She tries on selections in her bedroom. I face away during
changes. Just knowing she is stripping down right behind me is
killer. She makes her selection right before she showers, so
she's naked with a towel wrapped around her when I get the call
to serve. Mom in a towel is killer, but when the towel drops,
you're dead. Hearing her get dressed is killer. Hearing zips zip
and snaps snap, and frilly things frill is killer. When she's
ready, I am told to turn around. A dead man turns and watches her
walk and turn, then sit and stand up, bend this way and that,
then pose as though in casual conversation with the hostess, then
say, "What do you think? Too much color? Too flashy? The slit's
too high, isn't it? I need more topside exposure. Okay, turn
around. I know just the thing."

Whether she ever noticed that all I did was stand there and stare
is hard to tell, but I got the feeling she used me like a mirror.
Somehow, she'd know whether what she finally selected was right
or not and I'd get an honorable discharge, go straight to my room
and give myself a dishonorable one.

Mom tortured me but I don't think she meant to or knew how badly
I ached for her. She had to know I was horny for her, but I think
she passed that off as being horny for female body parts, not her
female body parts in particular. I wasn't that way around Janet
and she's a good looking teenage girl. I'm not sure Mom noticed,
but Janet didn't interest me at all. Janet  knew it and wasn't
the least bit modest around me, treating me more like a sister
than a brother. As long as Dad wasn't home, Janet  would walk
around naked. We took baths together until Janet entered puberty.
When Janet  had a good growth of pubic hair and tittie buds, Mom
thought us bathing together was inappropriate. We didn't and
still don't. Seeing Janet  naked is no big deal, but I know a lot
of guys would kill to see what I see almost every day. Mom had to
know that she was the object of my young lust and featured in my
wet dreams.

She had to sense my hunger when we were alone in a car together.
That wasn't often, but when it happened, you could part and fold
the sexual tension. I couldn't help staring at her legs, and
she'd keep tugging on her skirt because she could feel me
staring. I had to stare at her legs, because she drove with one
arm shielding her boobs. She didn't have to wear those damn
skirts all the time. That's all she wore - skirts and dresses -
short skirts and short dresses unless going formal. The legs
always showed after she and Dad saw Julia Roberts in "Pretty
Woman." My Dad is a leg man, and my mom loves leg men. I'd be a
leg man too if she didn't have such big boobs. I was trying. She
just wasn't working with me. Did she think leg men are born - no,
you have to train them, show them what's at the top. Show some
pussy, that's how you make a leg man.

I would love to have the courage to discuss my philosophies with
her, but we talked of dumb, everyday things like the sports
physical she was driving me to, or track and field, or my chances
at state, or her impossible schedule, and then we got lost in a
bad part of town and we were going to be late which would throw
off her whole day and might make her late for the Bancroft's
diner party. I'd get drafted for that one because Julia had a
date and Dad never got home before seven. The Bancrofts were
party animals, possibly swingers,  which meant all the short
skirts, high slits, and low tops would come out. I had never done
a Bancroft before. Mom modeling her slut wear for me was what wet
dreams are made of.

I was thinking of that when she stopped to ask this black guy
where such and such street was, calling out through my window
which she sent down. He didn't answer. He came up to check this
babe out. He walked around the car to go to her window which she
lowered. The two guys he had been sitting with took note and they
walked, too, only they came to my window. I didn't like the looks
of this and jerked on Mom's sleeve as she was talking to her guy.
The other two were approaching the passenger side as she shushed
me. Just as I thought to lock my door, the doors opened and
before I knew it, I was shoved against Mom and had a knife
pressed to my gut, The other two got in back as the guy sticking
me told my startled Mom, "Stay cool. Drive where we tell you, or
I'll show you this little mother fucker's liver."

I didn't like the sound of that, and neither did Mom. Well, I
liked the sound of part of it. She stayed cool, but her thigh
sure was warm. I couldn't believe I could be thinking about the
feel of warmth from her thigh at a time like this, but I had
shorts on and we were skin-to-skin. I'm sure Mom wasn't thinking
about it. She was about to get raped by three large black dudes.
It didn't take a fucking genius to figure that out.

She offered the car, her money, even her pin number for the ATM
card if they would just let us out anywhere. No, they wanted
pussy, too, and they put it to her that way. She offered to throw
in pussy if they let me out. She would never use that term. She
said, "I'll give you want you want, freely and willingly if
you'll just let my son go."

The guy with the knife said, "We want you to fight. We like a
white bitch that wiggles and squirms."

That pretty much left her with no more bargaining chips. Oddly, I
was relieved that they wanted me along. I knew they would
probably kill us, but at least I'd see her naked before I died.
As a bonus, I'd get to watch her get fucked - a bunch. They
looked almost as horny as me. If she had to die, I didn't want to
live. If she had to suffer, I wanted to suffer, too. If there was
any chance I could save her and be her hero, I wanted to be there
to take that chance. Anyway, they wanted me to stay, so that was
that. Mom drove like a dead lady sitting next to a dead kid. I
doubt she cared about how embarrassing this might be. She just
wanted it done fast. She drove slow but wanted it done fast. 

We drove through an area of abandoned buildings and vacant
warehouses. This was a great place to rape a bitch and leave the
body. I'll give them that. She didn't want to do anything that
might piss them off and she'd do anything that might make a
friend. After exhausting her options, she tried her hardest to
convince them that she'd be good and her favorite fantasy was to
be taken by three virile black man and to conceive a child by
one, that she was ovulating, didn't believe in abortion, and that
a father had the right to visit his child, and have sex with the
child's mother, that she would never seek to have her child's
father put away, that she could make her husband go along, that
she would assume she was pregnant because she probably would be.

Shit, that fantasy had my dick hard though it cracked up our
abductors. She was one hot white bitch, and she agreed, then she
shocked the piss out of me when she said, "If you don't believe
me, reach between my legs and feel how wet my pussy is."

They stopped laughing. The guy with the knife said, "Kid, reach
between yo momma's legs and tell us if she got a juicy pussy."

Fuck! Mom looked to me and sternly said, "Do it, Greg." She even
parted her knees wide, so I reached between her legs and cupped
her pussy. She didn't have any panties on. My hand was on naked
pussy and the lips were shaved bald. I said, "Yes, it's wet."

He said, "Reach inside her panties and feel it real good."

I felt it real good while saying, "She's not wearing panties."

While I played with her warm, moist, semi-wet pussy, Mom said, "I
never wear panties when I come to this part of town, and I always
get lost, and I always ask men like you for directions with the
doors unlocked. I don't always score, but I wanted my son to see
it if I did, because if I scored today, he'd get a baby brother
or sister. I thought he might like to see how the child got
conceived."

While the guys debated whether or not she was bullshitting them,
and she kept offering more evidence that she wasn't by
elaborating on her fantasy, I did my best to give Mom a wet
pussy, because someone was going to check. I hoped she understood
why I was finger fucking her. I was pretty sure she did. I rubbed
her clit and drew the wetness from inside and spread it outside.
I can't say I didn't like my role in this survival plot. I was
very impressed that Mom could think that fast and come up with
something that good right off the cuff. All the pieces fitting
made her dumb story more convincing. All the pieces fit so
perfectly. All she needed was a nice, juicy pussy, and I created
that.

When the knife guy put the knife down to reach in and check, he
declared, "Fuck me, this bitch is soppin' wet, and he's right,
she ain't got no fuckin' drawers on. Man, this slut feels nice.
You're old man ain't got no dick if he been fuckin' this pussy."

Mom said, "If you call five inches no thicker than my thumb a
dick, no, he doesn't. I know where big dicks are, though."

From the back: "Where's that, sugar."

"Between the legs of strong black men, that's where."

They were slapping and high fiving on hearing this. Mom wouldn't
look at me, but I wanted to high five with her. She was great.
She was doing it. The knife got folded up and put away. The rape
was off but the fucking was on. I could see Mom relax. We weren't
out of the woods, but the threat to our lives was greatly
diminished.  She had to keep up the pretense, and she put me in
heaven doing that.

She was talking like they were, using their terms, getting down
right vulgar. You would think she couldn't wait. She wanted to
know if there would be a bed where they could get down and dirty.
The warehouse they had in mind didn't. She made a bed sound like
a must if they wanted some good white pussy in style. They
couldn't think of any place. She offered to buy a room at a
rooms-by-the-hour fuck joint she knew about.

Fuck joint? Rooms by the hour? A place she knew about? No
panties? No locked door? Semi-wet pussy? What the fuck? 

Turns out they knew the place but just hadn't thought about it.
Mom turned the car around and headed there. They said to take
seventeenth, but she knew a shorter way. She was wrong, but what
the fuck - she got us there. Mom wouldn't look at me until she
handed me a fifty and told me to buy two hours and tell Paul that
she wanted number twelve or nineteen. Paul didn't know any Paul
but gave us nineteen and threw in an extra hour.

When I passed that news to Mom, I said, "He said since you're his
best customer, he'd throw in an extra hour since you had three
this time."

Any doubt that my mother wasn't a black cockhound totally
vanished when I said that, but now I was in a quandary again.
That man never saw her before. He never saw anything that looked
that good before - not in his establishment. At least Mom knew
that I was playing along and right in step with her, but where
were we going besides number nineteen, and what would we do when
we got there - wait until the bad guys got out, then lock the
doors and speed off?

When we parked, Mom got out first, so that killed that plan. She
opened the door to the room. I went in first. She followed and
the bad guys followed her. She took charge right away by pulling
up the only chair and setting it by the bed for me to sit in,
saying, "Sweetheart, you sit here. I want you to have the best
view. I want you to see why Mommy is always running late."

She then stands and starts taking off her clothes in a sexy
strip, right in front of me but facing them as they got their
dicks out and made a running commentary. 

Speaking of running, we weren't, not with her clothes being flung
all over the room, and not with us on the wrong side of the bed
with bad guys between us and the door and the car keys tossed on
the dresser behind us. With her body parts coming out, you
couldn't drag me from that room, and the first parts were tits -
both of them, naked, hot damn, what a set of hooters. Those big
black dicks were standing tall saluting them while she held them
up in offering and rolled the long nipples - best titties I ever
saw, best nipples, too, long, dark-pink mothers like strawberry
Hershey's kisses.

She then starts pulling up her skirt by pressing her palms to her
outer thighs and sliding. Up, up, up, it went clear past her hips
until she was showing all while doing a sensuous grind as though
she had a cock up her twat. The blacks were seeing pussy and
shucking their clothes, but all I could see was her bare right
flank. I needed to lean right or left. I didn't want her seeing
me lean either way, so I opted for left and for the rear view.

There it was, all of it, right at the top of her sexy legs where
I thought it would be, but I never imagined her pussy without
hair. God damn, that pussy was sexy, juicy, too. She notices me
checking out her ass and bends forward, reaches between her legs
with one hand, and parts the lips with her painted nail fingers,
saying, "Is Mommy's pussy wet, sweetheart?"

Being the wet pussy checker, I had to check that out, so I
bravely inserted a finger and said, "Your pussy is pretty wet,
Mom."

She says, "I know it's wet enough for your father's dick, but is
it wet enough for dicks like these?"

I looked at the three massive dicks in three black hands and
said, "I don't know, Mom, those are awfully big dicks. Do you
want me to try to make it wetter?"

"Yes, I need a sopping wet cunt."

I sent two fingers up her hole and reached around with my other
hand to come in from the front and work the clit. I fucked with
one hand and rubbed with the other. She got in a half squat with
her hands braced on her knees. Those big ole boobs were hanging
there wobbling with her humping. I had to do it. I took my right
hand off her clit and grabbed a boob. She said, "Yes, play with
my tits. Pinch my nipples. That'll get my cunt good and wet."

Oh, thank you, mother. She read my mind. Then again, that wasn't
hard to do. Why she'd read it and then grant my wish was hard to
fathom, but who looks a gift boob in the nipple at a time like
that. She read my mind again when she faced me and straddled my
legs, putting her boobs in my face, inviting me to use both hands
and my mouth while she took over the pussy work with both of her
hands.

Jesus Christ, my Mom was standing over my cock, masturbating
while feeding me her tits. Her fuck hand was banging my dick. I
never thought of that, not in my wildest dreams. I could no more
picture my mother acting like a whore than I could picture Madona
acting like my mother. Her first customer got behind her and gave
her something to feed into her pussy. She got that black war club
fed, then grabbed onto the arms of the chair and braced for a
fucking. I reached down and felt the dick slowly take possession
of her rolling pussy. This wasn't rape or survival at all costs.
This was my mother being bad. I felt my mom's hungry, horny,
adulterous pussy eat a big, black cock right down to the balls,
then try to eat the balls.

In her bent over position, her head was next to mine. When she
felt my hand feeling her pussy and the cock fucking it, or rather
the pussy fucking the cock that was in it, she brought her mouth
to my ear and said in a soft, low, sensuous whisper, "Are you
going to tell your father on me?"

I put my lips to her ear and whispered, "Not if I get some,too."

She came back to say, "Are you telling me you'd like to be a
mother fucker?"

"It has been my life's ambition, more so than being in the
Olympics. You are the only person in the world who can help me
achieve that goal."

"Then we had better keep this between us, hadn't we?"

"It'll go with me to my grave, Mom."

"If I hadn't gotten horny, that might have been a few minutes
ago."

"I know. You saved our lives. I'll be forever in your debt.
You're my hero."

"Just remember that three hours from now, because I want all
three of my hours. If you do that, we'll get along great from now
on. We'll be bosom buddies."

"Then we shall be bosom buddies."

Mom eased back, smiled down on me, and really gave that cock a
workout. My genital hand couldn't keep up, and I had a hard time
catching her nipples. I had no trouble when he pulled out and
moved his dick to her asshole. She went stone still for that. I
nibbled on her nipples and played with her pussy to help take her
mind off the discomfort. Mostly, I reached inside to feel the
dick moving through her colon. Boy, that was weird.

Mom eventually took him to the balls. I massaged his balls
against her pussy. Boy, I was weird, but Mom loved it and wanted
me to keep doing that whenever his balls came close enough, so I
had to hold his balls while he butt-fucked her. Shit, was that
ever weird.

He pulled her up straight by the tits to show his buddies what I
was doing. They made me kneel and lick her pussy, which let us
know that even though Mom sprang for the room, we were still
captives and they were still abductors.

I think Mom would have said something had he not taken charge in
such a threatening way. He was the knife guy. The threat was
implied - "Eat your momma's pussy or we'll show her your liver."
I ate pussy and Mom watched like she was glad I got that
directive. She thanked the guy with a hand on my head. She said I
was great, that this was just what she needed, a cunt-sucking
son.

The one up her ass said, "Bitch, what you need is a mother
fucker." With that, he pulled her and my meal back onto the bed.
Knife guy ordered me to strip. I could see that Mom was
embarrassed and nervous. She kept her legs together and watched,
thinking - thinking hard, then saying, "I don't want his puny
white dick, and I don't want to get pregnant by a white dick. I
want big black cock and black sperm."

Knife guy said, "We know what you want, bitch, and you'll get
more Alabama Black Snake than you know what ta do with, but the
only sperm gonna git in yo pussy today is what this boy got in
his itty bitty nuts."

Despite all the disparaging remarks impugning my manhood, my
seven inches stood tall and proud at the ready. Mom begged like a
woman who really, really, really didn't want to bear her son a
child. She looked very sincere to me. My dick throbbed and the
sperm in my balls, not nuts, were in a boil. I had a womb brew.
When they had enough of her bullshit, I was told to "go get me
some."

Mom went limp. Her legs fell open. They fell off of his legs and
that made them open, and there she was, my mom, ready for
fucking, tits up and looking fine. I crawled like a mother fucker
and got to my knees between their legs, aimed my hard cock at her
pussy hole, and sank into paradise while Mom groaned. She was
snug, but I guess that was because she had a big dick up her ass.
I could feel that slab of dick move. He had her by the hips and
pushed and pulled to make his dick go in and out by a few inches.
I added my own movements. Pretty soon, Mom added hers. 

We didn't need three people moving, so I settled over her body to
bury my face in her boobs, now broad and wobbly, easy to move
about on her chest. She needed a support bra, but I liked them
this way - mudder udders. Gravity gives mudder udders a different
look and shape -tits up, tits down, up straight, standing on her
head - four boobs in one, tits perfect for fucking even with a
seven-inch dick. Janet has one set no matter what position she's
in and you can forget fucking them. Those hard puppies refuse to
budge, and no way are they coming together.

They wanted us to kiss, so we kissed, lips only for a little bit
and then she slipped me some tongue and we were off to the races.
I was soul kissin' like a mother fucker. Damn, she was a good
kisser and she seemed to like the way I kissed, too. We were
having a good old spit-swappin' time until this big, one-eyed,
purple-headed snake's head tried to wedge in.

The fucker was jacking off and I was backing off until he smacked
me on the back of the head and told me to keep on kissing but
make room for Sambo. Mom brought my head back and brought my lips
to hers and Sambo's head. There, we shared a dick with our lips
and tongues - A DICK THAT WAS ABOUT TO FUCKING CUM IN OURMOUTHS!

Talk about gross. He jacked off in our mouths and then we had to
go back to soul kissing. I expected Mom to quickly swallow
everything, but she didn't. She kept pushing that load back in my
mouth. I could feel the passion in the way she held my head -
firmly in her grasp. She obviously wanted me to swallow it,
though I obviously wanted her to have the honors. She insisted. I
resisted. Sperm kept going back and forth - a big wad, a mega
load, fucking gross.

I needed to tell her that someone was trying to stick a snake up
my ass - a god damn python. I think she mistook that for my
passion. Anyway, she wouldn't swallow so I had to, and that
really turned her the fuck on. She fed me cum from her mouth. By
the time I could speak and tell her to think of something quick,
there was no point; besides, she was now kissing the guy who was
fucking me. He made me cum in her pussy. I was just along for the
ride. I was one of two slices of white turkey meat in a black rye
sandwich, and one slice was awful damn happy about being there.

For the next two hours WE were used like punks. They fucked her
pussy but only to drive my sperm deeper into her womb. They each
came three times. They came in our mouths or asses and I usually
ended up eating it. Whatever got spilled, I licked even had to
lick the stuff out of Mom's ass; she had to lick it out of mine.
I wanted to get intimate with her, but not that intimate. I
always wanted to kiss the hole she pisses through, but not suck
on it while she's pissing. They had to hold a knife to her throat
to get her to do that. When it came my turn to piss in her mouth,
I didn't wait for the knife. She nursed; I pissed. I felt raped.
I don't know how she felt. She looked pretty damn content to me,
like one well-fucked slut as they took all of our things and left
in the car.

Mom lay sprawled on the bed they had stripped of all bedding. I
came up and laid in the crook of her arm. She looked over and
then drew that arm in to hug me, happy that we had survived.
Toward the end, we weren't sure. I said, "That was close, wasn't
it?"

"Too close for comfort. I was afraid you wouldn't hold up. I
think you saved us, Greg. You're my hero."

She then kissed me on the forehead, not on the lips. She saw my
disappointment and then kissed me on the lips, but without the
tongue. It was a nice, long, unmotherly kiss, the kind mother
fuckers like. I smiled. She smiled, then said, "We must go back
the way we were. I hope you realize that."

"You said we'd be like bosom buddies if I didn't tell Dad."

"Greg, we can tell him, now. We were car-jacked and raped. I'm
reporting this. I want those bastards caught, tried, and
convicted before they kill someone."

I must have looked like a sad puppy. She chucked my chin and
said, "I know you have wanted me for many years, now. I know
you've wanted to see me naked and at least play with my boobs.
You got to see everything and do everything and a little more
besides. You've done things they don't even do in Arkansas. I'll
tell you something else. I am starting my ovulation cycle. I
should be in that bathroom trying to wash your sperm out. I can
treat that sperm as a son's discharge or as evidence. If I get
pregnant, I will bear you a child and everyone will know the
child is yours, the product of forced intercourse. Your father
will understand. I'll let you make the call. Should I try to
prevent pregnancy, or should I lie here and let your sperm soak
into my womb?"

I couldn't believe she was serious, but she was. I didn't think
she'd begrudge me wanting to knock her up. I smiled and said,
"Give my boys a shot. Soak."

There came a hard rap on the door. The manager shouted, "HEY!
LADY, are you all right in there!"

Mom leapt off the bed, ran to the door,  and cracked the door
open. The man I bought the room from looked at Mom's bare left
tit while she excitedly explained how we'd been abducted at knife
point, taken here and raped, that we had no clothes, bedding,
towels, nothing to cover ourselves with and no way to get hold of
him, thank god he thought to check on us. He said he'd go call
the cops, so she opened the door wider and gave him more tit to
look at along with a good shot of leg as she said, "Thank you.
Could you find us something to wrap up in before they get here?
As you can see, we're both naked. This is very embarrassing. I'm
in here with my son."

The guy pokes his head in so he can look for himself as though he
needed to check that story out. She lets him in so that no one
would see past him and to us - or so it seemed. He was liking
this shit, running his eyes all over her body. He was stalling,
but she didn't mind. She certainly wasn't embarrassed. She looked
like she wanted to put it all out there for him to inspect. She
didn't even have her feet together. She stood shoulders back,
arms at her sides, presenting this fat creep with her impressive
full frontal nudity.

I didn't know what to make of this. She couldn't be horny for
this unshaven pig. He gave the room a cursory going over, then
looked back to her - back to her tits and pussy, inspecting her,
not knowing what to make of it, either,  before saying, "Just
wait here. I'll get you some bedspreads, but I want them back."

She said, "Thank you so much. I'll deliver them personally first
thing tomorrow. When will you be here?"

"I go on duty at noon. How about eleven?"

"All right, I'll be here at eleven. I presume you'll be at the
office."

"How about we meet right here?"

"All right, I'll meet with you in this room on one condition. You
don't check on us until our time expires and you notice the car
is gone. We've been through a horrible experience, something no
mother and son should ever be forced into. We need time to sort
through all this before the police get involved. I would be very
appreciative of that time."

Now, she made sense and I tried to look traumatized when he
looked at me. He looked back to her and said, "Yeah, how
appreciative?"

"You'll need a condom - one condom. That's how appreciative."

I couldn't see his shit-eating grin but I felt it as he grabbed
her tit and said, "You got fifty minutes to straighten Junior
out, then I'm opening the door. We'll just take it from there. I
didn't see shit, don't know shit. All I know is some broad and
her kid got themselves raped."

Mom parried his hand from going between her legs, saying, "Don't
tamper with the evidence."

He withdrew saying, "You just see you get back here tomorrow, or
I tell the cops you wanted another hour alone with your little
stud and you stole my bedspreads."

"I said I'd be here, and I'll be here. If you'll leave now, I'll
give you the full hour and you can use all the condoms youneed."

He left, but slowly and grinning. Mom came back to the mattress,
crawled back to her place beside me, placed her arm around me,
and said, "We do need to talk -  just talk, stud."

I smiled like a stud though I only got to fuck her once and the
other guy gets all the credit. He was the stud with the pile
driving ass. She brushed hair from my eyes as she said, "You must
be wondering why I wasn't wearing panties."

"Don't keep me in suspense."

"I'll let you in on a little secret that your father doesn't know
about. When I go into my ovulation cycle, I get very horny. I
dress sexy, shave my vagina,  and more often than not, I don't
wear panties. I go out asking for trouble. Your father would call
it trolling for cock, and he'd be very upset if he knew I ever
did that. So far, I've been very lucky, lucky as in not getting
pregnant."

"So, you've done this before?"

"Yes, but nothing like this. I do most of my trolling in a safer
part of town. I have been to this motel before, twice before. I
never saw him, but this room is familiar."

"How much trolling do you do?"

"I do some in every cycle. I don't always score. The again,
fishermen don't always catch fish."

"How many fish have you caught?"

"A lady never counts, Greg. I'd say, ninety-two over a ten year
period - ninety-five, now. Ninety-six counting you. Tomorrow at
eleven it'll be ninety seven."

I had to laugh. I also had to do some quick math [120 months
divided by 97 dicks] almost one each month. That may be a bad
haul for fish, but my dad would be impressed. If the average cock
was ten inches long, that was 970 inches or over eighty feet of
cock she'd cheated on. If each dumped an average of two loads of
sperm at one and a half tablespoons per load, that was over three
gallons of sperm during the worst time of the month. I had to
ask, "Why do you take chances like that? Are you on the pill or
do they wear condoms?"

"No, I'm as fertile as a Catholic wife can be. I do it because
the risk is so exciting, like walking at the edge of a cliff is
exciting. If I ever get knocked up while your father is wearing
condoms, it had better be rape and it had better be reported back
when I was last ovulating. I can't miss a period and then go, oh,
I was raped."

"You sure like taking chances."

"The higher the risk, the greater the excitement. Each time I
score, I have to sweat out two weeks until my period comes.
Sometimes, they come late. The excitement lasts from first
contact to the first splotch of blood. I never wanted this much
excitement, but there we were, and then there they were forcing
the issue. Trust me, I was not trolling, and the doors weren't
locked because I forgot to lock them."

"Mom, I never thought you were."

"Well, it certainly looked that way, and I couldn't blame you if
you did think that, especially after what I just told you. Greg,
I am an unfaithful wife. I can't change, and I don't want to
change. However this may impact my marriage, I will continue to
be unfaithful, but I would never act that irresponsibly, not with
you or Janet in the car. I was not turned on when you reached
between my legs. You may have felt wetness, but that wasn't
arousal wetness you felt. I want you to know that."

"Mom, I'm not an idiot. With a sister like Janet, don't you think
I'd know the difference?"

She smiled and said, "You certainly knew how to make the
difference, you little devil. You're the one who made me so damn
horny that I had to get laid if it killed me - killed us."

I beamed and said, "You're lucky I was there, and luckier that he
wanted me to do the checking."

"I figured he'd have to make you check. He had no other way
unless he put the knife down - no easy way. He did what I thought
he'd do, and you did what I prayed you'd do, which was make it
wet. You can't think it wet, not at a time like that, and I only
turn on the water works with physical stimulation. A man doesn't
score with me unless he treats me like a whore and has the balls
to reach between my legs and make me wet. That bozo would have
gotten laid had he not taken my no for an answer. I'm serious. I
didn't push away that hard. If he had gone back for it, I'd let
him have his way and never brought up the subject of rubbers. I
never do. If a man does it right, his reward is a pussy he can
ejaculate in to his heart's content. I let them drain their balls
in me, and most are good for three cums before they've had
enough."

Wow, almost five gallons of cum. I said, "I'm glad he took your
no."

"I am too. He doesn't deserve to have his sperm compete with
yours."

Mom was trying to tell me something, and I was feeling a bit
thick. I can usually catch on quick. She could see I wasn't and
added, "Greg, I know you are hoping you knocked me up. I hate to
tell you, but I don't knock up easily. Your father and I had to
go out of our way, keeping fresh sperm in my womb throughout a
cycle to conceive. I doubt that one time early on will do it. You
would have to keep putting fresh sperm in me - three, four times
a day for at least a week."

Duh, light dawns. I laid my hand on her lower abdomen and said,
"I would, huh?"

She looked at my hand making larger and larger circles, advancing
on her trimmed muff then said, "Greg, you stop that. Don't you
dare venture any lower."

My fingers were now in her pubic hairs and stayed as I said, "You
have a very sexy pussy, Mom."

"Greg, don't talk to me that way, and I'll thank you not to touch
me down there."

I slipped my index finger down inside the slit, saying, "I like
the way your clit sticks out when you get horny."

She clamped her thighs on my stroking finger while saying, "Greg,
I'm your mother, not your whore."

I pushed to get my finger down to the hole while saying, "Your
pussy is wet like a whore's cunt."

Her thighs relaxed and I got my finger in deep as she purred,
"Greg, get your fingers out of there. Mommy doesn't like it when
you treat me this way - like I'm some kind of whore with a cunt
between her legs that you can just stick your fingers in."

She began widening her legs so I had room to give her the
treatment. We both looked at her pussy getting the treatment. Her
legs kept widening. I made room by getting up and straddling her
thigh which was now perpendicular to her torso in a straight line
with the other one. I used one hand in her pussy and one on her
tits. My dick was sticking straight out over her left hip. She
reached out and began stroking. Her loins began a slow rolling
grind on three fucking fingers as she said, "Oh, Greg, you are so
nasty, so sexy, so hard. You make Mommy so fucking horny. Kiss
me, then tell me what you're going to do to me."

We kissed as lovers do when they have a mouthful of cum, then I
rolled onto her, placed my lips to her ear and softly, sexily
whispered, "I'm going to make you my whore."

I had the head of my dick in her pussy, so when she grabbed my
ass and heaved up, my balls slammed into her asshole. After that,
I was along for the ride, but I dumped another fresh load in her
twat - more evidence. 

We remained connected and did a lot of nice kissing. I was in
mother fucker heaven, and she was in mother fuckee heaven. We
were quite a sight when shithead opened the door on us. We
forgot, but he was ten minutes early anyway. He tossed us bedding
and said, "Just like I figured. You god damn well better be here
at eleven, bitch."

Mom shouted, "I'll be here, now shut the fucking door. Go call
the cops or it's your word against ours, and you can just sit in
here tomorrow and jack off."

He shut the door. He wasn't very bright. He should have brought a
camera or a witness. Mom hugged me, still with my spent dick in
her, saying, "I can see you'll be difficult to live with now that
you know my secrets and my weaknesses. I hope you won't take
advantage."

"We'll see, won't we."

Mom smiled then slapped my butt and said, "Let's get wrapped and
looking raped. The cops are sometimes very quick to respond."

                                                  * * *

My mom delivered me a seven pound, eight ounce bouncing baby boy,
but she was right - it took a lot of fucking - five, six, seven
times a day. The three rapists were caught and convicted, and you
wouldn't believe the lies they said about my mom. No one did. Our
home life remained pretty much the same, but every now and then,
I treated Mom like a whore. Every now and then, she responded
like one. It don't get any better than that, sports fans.



Read other stories by the same author by visiting Phantom Base at
HTTP://PhilPhantom.Com 

CAUTION: Exercise caution and good sense before engaging in
unsafe sex practices that involve any exchange of body fluid,
even contact with open sores or small cuts. Scenes involving
large objects, tattoos, bestial sex, body waste ingestion,
bindings, devices and gadgets are the stuff of fantasy and are
offered to promote the only safe sex there is - masturbation.
Before you try anything, find out what the risks and hazards are
because they can all be deadly. Read, enjoy, and remember - sex
with minors should be left to other minors. PP
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