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From: thedisciplen@yahoo.com (DiscipleN)
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Subject: {ASSM} Can't See Mom for All the Boys (1/2) [mF, inc, exhb, slow]
Date: Sat, 15 Jun 2002 09:10:04 -0400
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The following is a work of FICTION.

Can't see Mom for all the Boys (part 1/2)
by DiscipleN

Copyright (c) 2002, by DiscipleN. All rights reserved.
This work may not be used for any commercial purposes without prior,
documented consent from the owner.



----
This story was written at the request of a usenet poster who wanted to
read about the kind of events herein.
----

James Purcell contorted his young face into an expression his father
often used and sighed. His mother was cleaning his room. He was
supposed to be helping.

"How about your dresser? If you folded those clothes the drawers might
actually close."

"Okay mom." James tromped unenthusiastically over to the dresser. He
plucked out a pair of white briefs from the stuffed pile and held them
up? It seemed like a lot of work for such a little scrap of cotton. He
rolled it up from the waistband.

Gloria Purcell noticed and shook her head. Her hands were full of
action figures which gathered dust like magnets. She believed in the
antiquated thought that an ideal home contained neither chaos nor
idleness. Dust was the devil of the second. Her son was the first
incarnate. Still, she adored him, and to her fortune, had the luxury
of time to de-whirlwind his aftermath.

Her husband was a civil engineer who provided for a handsome lifestyle
if not a lot of intimacy. She had been attracted to his focused
personality, and whenever he attended her, he treated her like a
queen. Unfortunately, his career had proved a magnet worse than action
figures. To maintain their lifestyle, he lived more like a house guest
than a member of the family.

Gloria knew her son liked his father, but he occasionally acted as if
his father needed a helper more than she did.

"Mom, how do you fold your underwear?" James hadn't let her unvoiced
dissatisfaction go unnoticed. He stared at a fresh pair held in his
hands.

His mother blushed slightly at the question. "Just fold it in half and
lay it flat. Rolling the waistband will ruin it.

"I bet dad doesn't fold his undershorts. Why can't I go and fix the
solar panel? All it needs is a cleaning, and maybe a wire got loose in
the storm last night.

You're too young to be climbing on roofs. What if you fell off?

"I won't fall. I'll be real careful."

"You're dad will fix it when he gets home."

"It'll be dark. He'll fall off." James asserted.

It wasn't an argument Gloria wanted right now. She finished wiping his
toys. It was late afternoon on a summer day. She wanted a shower.

"Just put your clothes in order. That's plenty for a ten year old."

"I'll be eleven in three weeks!"

"Good, you'll be old enough to clean your own toys." His mother
smirked and walked out of the room feeling victorious.

Hot water and oatmeal soap washed out the worst of days. It had been a
good day, but Gloria loved to pamper herself. She prayed her husband
wouldn't work too late and still had the energy to pamper her further.
She was tired of curling up to his sleeping figure and rubbing her own
pussy for an orgasm.

Having cleaned herself thoroughly, she primped for allure in the
bathroom mirror. Most of the shower steam had been sucked out by the
fan, and the mirror offered a tantalizing view. Any man with a healthy
appetite for sex would have drooled over her shapely, naked figure.

The face peeking through the bathroom window would have dropped its
jaw if it hadn't been upside down. Gloria suddenly caught sight of two
eyes gaping out of the mirror's reflection. She turned around just in
time to watch her son fall straight down, head first.

Her scream lasted from the moment she recognized James until, after
racing outside, the moment she cradled his unconscious form. Her
scream echoed inside her head, never to completely fade.

--------------------

James thought his cast was cool! It covered his left, upper arm, the
shoulder, and hung around his neck like a piece of white armor. Bobby
and Carl had already signed it.

'Dufus climbed the roof. Dufus fell and went poof!' - Bobby Bad Dude.

'..and all he got was a stupid rhyme.' - your friend Carl.

"Dude, all the girls are gonna want to sign this!" Bobby was still
admiring his verse.

"Aww, by the time the doctor says I can get out of bed, this cast will
be gone. I don't want no girls to see me in the wheelchair." James
indicated the vacant seat across the room.

"What about your mom?" Bobby snickered. "She's a girl."

"Yeah, she sees you every day. She pushes your chair." Carl followed
his lead.

"I didn't know your mom was such a fox. When did she stop wearing
sweats and house clothes?"

"I dunno." James did know, but he wasn't going to tell two kids. His
mom started wearing brightly colored shorts and tight muscle shirts a
couple days after he got home from the hospital. He expected a bawling
out for peeking at her from the window, but all she did was make him
promise never to climb the roof again.

"All right, boys, visiting time is over. James needs his rest." Gloria
Purcell arrived exactly at 5:00pm to administer her son's pain
killers. She herded the two neighborhood boys out of the bedroom and
let them find the front door.

"Aw mom, I don't hurt much."

"And if you keep taking your medicine you won't. Here." It was not an
offer.

James swallowed two pink tablets and an orange one nearly as thick as
his finger. He sipped some milk to clear his gullet.

"All right, now take a little nap while I make supper." Gloria patted
his head. Then she took it affectionately in both hands, leaned over
his bed, and kissed him on the forehead.

His mother's kindness and the drugs should have slowed James' heart.
Instead, it beat harder. With his mother leaning over and holding his
head, his eyes pointed directly at her tits, and she wasn't wearing a
brassier!

Two perfect breasts plunged past her deep neckline and dark nipples
trembled ghost-like though the thin, white material of her top. James
gulped as if he had swallowed two, much bigger pills. They were
beautiful!

Gloria wasn't aware of her son's accidental view. She felt as fully
clothed as always. From her perspective, she kissed him affectionately
and chaste. The fact that her two bountiful tits loomed before the
child's eyes like an invitation for further exploration escaped her
completely. She had changed from the prim, proper, and punctual parent
of a month ago. Only she couldn't notice it.

Incredibly, in the hours that occurred after witnessing James' tragic
fall, her mind made an unconscious deduction. It figured that James
had tumbled from the roof because he had been looking at her naked
figure through the bathroom window. Gloria's mind decided she could
protect her son by removing his reasons for peeking at her.
Consciously, Gloria would have rejected such a ridiculous idea,
although she did believe the accident was largely her fault. So her
unconscious had to do the dirty work. Step by step, it would transform
her into the most accessible naked body her son would ever need and
then some.

Small things, like nervously fingering the buttons on her blouse
during the days immediately following his hospitalization, had led to
greater changes. By the end of the first week, she was in tight jeans
and thin blouses. The Gloria of today regularly wore revealing, but
hardly explicit, shorts and tank tops. Unconsciously bearing her deep
cleavage in front of her son was just another step.

James found himself blinking, trying to clear the after-image of two
gorgeous breasts swaying behind a thin curtain as his mother walked
calmly out of the room. His young cock sprang up under the sheets so
quickly he didn't notice it until after his retinas cleared.

He was unable to nap before he heard his mother call him from the
kitchen.

------------

At the dinner table, James tried hard not to watch his mother dither
about. She spent more time out of her chair than in it; replacing
napkins, checking on the dessert, refilling partially drained glasses,
and reheating her own food. Instead, James watched his father watch
his mother, but doing so proved extra difficult since she seemed to
hover at James' elbow, offering quick peeks of the same cleavage which
had enticed him earlier.

"No wonder it's so hot in here." James' father asserted, having
finished the main course during his puzzling concern for Gloria's legs
and ass. "The clothes you're wearing wouldn't keep a walrus warm in
summer! What temperature did you set the heater to, woman?"

"I don't know." James' mother answered her husband without looking at
him.

"Dang it, I provide pretty well around here, but let's not pay all of
it to the power company, shall we?"

"Whatever you say, dear." She replied. "I don't want little James to
be cold while he's recovering."

"Hell, look at the boy. He's sweating."

James was sweating, but not from heat. The continuous, close proximity
of her mother's tits were more stressful than a math test. If his cock
had been twelve inches, it would have been long enough and hard enough
to tilt the table.

"Oh, dear are you feverish?" Gloria instantly stretched across the
table and reached out a hand to his forehead. One of her breasts fell
out of her top and into the mashed potatoes.

James' father leaned back, eyes wide as if he hadn't seen her breasts
in weeks. "Please dear, have the decency..."

"Hush! I have to check his temperature." She jumped out of her chair
and raced to the bathroom, ignorant of the free tit flouncing against
her chest and flinging white globs in every direction. She returned
with a thermometer and popped it into his mouth. She leaned close to
monitor his forehead with the back of her hand. James found himself in
a ridiculous position. The glass tube sticking out of his mouth
actually penetrated the mashed potatoes concealing his mother's
circular nipple. If he wriggled his tongue it made funny patterns in
the warm mess.

"Oh, brother!" His father had seen enough. Mr. Purcell wiped his mouth
and quit the table. He left the dinning room mumbling something about,
"dizzy woman."

"M-M?"

"What dear?" James' mother took the thermometer out of his mouth and
deciphered it.

"You've got food on yourself."

"Thank heavens!"

"Huh?" James wondered if his imagination was misbehaving.

"You're perfectly normal." She wiped the glass on her short pants and
replaced it in it's case. Finally she noticed what wasn't right.

"Hmmm..." She observed her front. "I guess I have to shower."

James decided he wasn't going crazy after all.  His mother started to
show some sense. Then, right in front of him, she quickly stripped off
her top!

James' eyeballs jumped out of his head. Now both of her mother's
beautiful breasts appeared in plain view. His rock hard cock
threatened to rip a hole in his jeans. He gulped and turned his head.

"Don't you worry about a thing. I'll be all cleaned up and ready to
tuck you into bed." His mother said as she walked away.

When James turned back, he saw his mother's naked ass jiggling away
into the hallway. Her pants and panties lay on the ground beside his
chair.

Later that night, he thanked his lucky stars. If his mother hadn't
wore a thin house robe while she tucked him in, he would have cummed
into the bed sheets the moment she kissed him good night.

The image of two, hard nipples, poking through green silk, invaded his
dreams.

---------------------------------

The next morning, James woke up certain the previous day had been a
dream. When his mother later appeared with breakfast on a tray, she
was even wearing a thick, teri-cloth robe.

"How's my dear boy, this morning?" She smiled.

"Good mom." James tore into his food with hunger. "Can you invite
Bobby and Carl over again?" He spoke between chews.

"Of course, honey, but they can't stay all day. I don't want them to
tire you out."

"ng-kay." He munched the word.

"I'm glad you have such an appetite. It's a good sign you'll recover
quickly."

"Thanks to your good cooking." James finished the last bite and smiled
at his beautiful mother.

"I'll just take that back to the kitchen." She swept the tray from his
bed and headed out.

At the door his mother encountered a slight difficulty with the
doorknob. When she shifted the tray's weight to her left hand, the
ketchup bottle tipped over it's edge and cracked upon the floor.
Tomato flavored corn syrup soaked into the carpet.

"Damnit!" Gloria rebuked herself. "I've got to mop this up pronto, or
we'll never get out the stain." She set the tray on James' desk and
sped out of the room. The hem of her teri-cloth robe lifted in the
sudden breeze. James caught a brief glimpse of black panties.

When his mother returned, they were all she was wearing. She held her
robe in her hands, having soaked it with hot water. She immediately
kneeled on the carpet and began to wipe the ketchup and broken glass.
Her two tits swayed with a will as her hand scrubbed out the stain.

James was speechless! His mother was nearly naked and down on her
hands and knees like she were an animal ready to mate. She had the
creamiest, tanned skin, broken only by perfect freckles flecked
sparingly over her shapely figure. He unconsciously reached for his
cock and rubbed it lightly through his flannel night clothes.

She looked up. "Can you believe your mother is so clumsy?" Her eyes
twinkled.

James' hand froze. With her head lifted, he caught a perfect view of
his mother's tits. They were magnificent, like great mangoes. Her hand
never stopped swirling her damp robe over the stain. Gloria's breasts
circled mesmerically.

She noticed James' hand under the sheet, but she didn't consciously
consider what that meant. Her tongue appeared briefly through her lips
and licked them. Her hand stopped circling and instead it rubbed the
carpet back and forth. Her body rocked as if she were being fucked
from behind. Her eyes crossed, but never focused on, her son's veiled
hand.

"It should perk..., I mean, pick right up, honey."

James discovered he was again, rubbing his cock. It ached for release.
Why was his mom doing this, teasing him? Was this a form of punishment
for having peeked at his mother in the first place? James was old
enough to have read stories where the bad guy was punished by the very
same crime he had committed. If only he dared to actually jack off in
front of her! Simply rubbing his hard-on hadn't yet registered in his
mother's expression. She had ceased to watch him and concerned herself
with finishing the task. Her body continued to move sinuously.

The recuperating, young boy stuck his hand deep into his pajamas and
wrapped his fingers around his inflamed cock. He jacked it slowly to
the same pace as his mother's humping.

She dabbed the last smear of red goo long before her son was ready to
climax, and she didn't hesitate to wrap up the robe and haul it into
the bathroom. When she returned for the tray, she wasn't wearing
anything at all. Mom, tray, and everything vanished behind James' door
just as his cock spilled white gobs of cum into his pajamas. He
managed to wipe the mess out of his pants with a handful of tissues.
The vision of her trimmed thatch of cunt hair haunted him until Bobby
and Carl arrived.

"Hey crip, what's up with your mom?" Bobby grimaced.

Carl shook his head. "Yeah, when we knocked at the front door, she
yelled 'come in', but..."

"She was in the kitchen wearing a beach towel. What's going on here?"
Bobby said accusingly.

James cleared his throat. "Uh, she spilled some ketchup. She must have
taken a shower."

"Eww, I wondered what that smell was." Carl wrinkled his nose.

The door burst wide open, and Gloria Purcell walked into her son's
room with a plate of cookies. She set them on the desk. She had found
a French maid's apron to wear. The billowing ruffles around the edge
of the straps were just large enough to cover her dark nipples, but
every other inch of her breasts were visible.

"Here you go children. I'll be right back with the milk." She turned,
exposing two firm but wide buttocks, and exited.

The three boys neither spoke nor moved in the interval between James'
mother's appearances. She breezed back in with three tall cups and,
smiling, placed them next to the plate.

"Bon appetit!" The door she tugged behind her, as she left, hung open
only slightly farther than the three gaping jaws in the room.

Carl broke the silence. "Gee, that's creepy."

"James, your mom is nuts."

"Hey, you take that back!" James shouted at Bobby.

"Okay okay, plaster boy, I'm sorry. What's your explanation?"

"Golly, James your mom is beautiful." Carl exhaled.

"She's just... I mean her..." James searched the room looking for an
answer. "Oh, heck. I don't know. She really changed since I fell off
the roof. I-it's all my fault." James began to cry.

"Hey, it's all right man." Bobby reached for his friend's shoulder.
"She just needs time. My mom did all sorts of crazy things when I
nearly drowned last year."

"Yeah, like whup your backside three times a day." Carl sniggered.

"Oh, what do you know, squirt?" Bobby spat his question at the smaller
boy.

"I know James' mom might be bonkers, but I sure wish my mom was
bonkers like her."

James' laughed. "No you don't. You're mom isn't nearly as pretty as
mine."

"Is too!" Carl yelped.

"Okay, that's the two friends I remember." A smile spread across
Bobby's face like the sun peeking over the horizon. "Now the real
question is, what are we going to do about it?"

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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