Message-ID: <54941asstr$1165011001@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-Original-Path: f1g2000cwa.googlegroups.com!not-for-mail From: "rdodger" <rajahdodger@gmail.com> X-Original-Message-ID: <1164982317.352983.46070@f1g2000cwa.googlegroups.com> Mime-Version: 1.0 NNTP-Posting-Date: Fri, 1 Dec 2006 14:12:02 +0000 (UTC) User-Agent: G2/1.0 X-HTTP-UserAgent: Mozilla/5.0 (Windows; U; Windows NT 5.1; en-US; rv:1.8.0.8) Gecko/20061025 Firefox/1.5.0.8,gzip(gfe),gzip(gfe) Complaints-To: groups-abuse@google.com Injection-Info: f1g2000cwa.googlegroups.com; posting-host=66.54.158.202; posting-account=sMADhg0AAAARozjx-BtxqfGB12O57XMR X-ASSTR-Original-Date: 1 Dec 2006 06:11:57 -0800 Subject: {ASSM} Rajah Dodger Repost Flood: Bunco Squad [mF, inc] Lines: 248 Date: Fri, 01 Dec 2006 17:10:01 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2006/54941> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: emigabe, newsman Abstract: A young man is very interested to find out how his mother spends her Tuesday nights. Bunco Squad, by Rajah Dodger <rdodger@hotmail.com>, Copyright (c) 2000. All rights reserved, except that electronic not-for-profit reproduction rights only are explicitly granted with the stipulation that this authorship and permission note must remain attached. Author's Note: Published in Consent Magazine, Issue #22, www.consentmag.com. Once a week, usually on Tuesday night, my mom went out for the evening and my Aunt Bess stayed in the house. Aunt Bess was Mom's little sister, which still put her about twenty years older than I was. My Dad died when I was ten, and my aunt lived with us for a year and a half while Mom got our household affairs in order and got herself a job. After that it was just Mom and me, except on Tuesday nights. I asked Mom what the deal was, and she explained it was called Bunco and was a wives game using dice. I never really got any better description of it. Anyway, this had been going on for almost seven years. Mom would leave around seven and get back somewhere near midnight. When I was younger I'd be sound asleep by the time she got home; later on she'd poke her head in my door and wish me good night if I was still awake. Over the years, Bess and I got to be good buddies; she helped me with my homework and it was nice to get a break from Mom once a week. I cornered my aunt once trying to get a scoop on Mom's Tuesday nights, whining the way a twelve-year-old can. Bess pointed out that it was very hard to be a single parent and that I shouldn't begrudge my mother her one opportunity a week to unwind and keep her sanity. The way she explained it made me feel like a right ungrateful little snot, and I didn't think about raising the issue again. Time passed; Mom got a promotion and had to go out of town occasionally, at which times Aunt Bess would come stay at the house. I turned sixteen and spent one wild Saturday with the captain of the girls' volleyball team, whom I later found out made a ritual of deflowering virgins. Aunt Bess dated an auto salesman and started wearing more revealing clothes, then broke up with him but kept the wardrobe. She was also home when I came home from the volleyball captain, and only needed one look at me to figure out what had happened, at which point she gave me the low-down on the birds, bees, condoms and STDs. Toward the end of my junior year I was coming home one Tuesday from a late study session, and heard loud voices when I opened the front door. Mom and Aunt Bess were having an argument somewhere in the back of the house. "I tell you, F---, you're going to have to do something soon. He's going to be dating soon, you know, and then it'll be out of your control. Don't forget about that volleyball incident." I was only half eavesdropping until that last comment, then I got real alert but my mother's voice was too soft to carry well so I didn't hear her response. My aunt quieted down as well, so I shrugged it off and headed for the kitchen to grab a bite. When I got there I found my mom and aunt, both looking somewhat put out with each other, but they each put a smile on their face and gave me a big hug before Mom left for her Bunco game. I tried to engage Aunt Bess in conversation later over a game of Uno, but she was distracted and not terribly responsive. At least I won six and a half bucks off her the way she was playing. The earlier conversation had reawakened my curiosity about Tuesday nights, and I pretended to go to sleep after the ten o'clock news. When Mom got in, I kept my eyes closed as she opened and shut my door, and stayed quiet until I heard Aunt Bess drive off. Then I got out of bed and went silently across to Mom's side of the house. I could hear her moving around in her room, then the beeps of her making a phone call. I put my ear to the door and managed to barely catch her side of the conversation: "...but I'm so close ... he's only... no, I'm still wearing it... yes, I know... okay..." There were a few undecipherable sounds, then something that sounded like a slap. Then another, then ten more in a steady rhythm. The next sound was of the bed frame squeaking as if someone was bouncing rapidly on it, followed by a strange mewing sound. If I hadn't known it was just mom and me in the house, I'd almost have thought she had someone in there with her. I was both repelled and aroused by the thought of my mother on her bed, legs spread for some guy. I suddenly realized that the sounds had stopped and I was standing right outside my mother's bedroom door with an erection in my shorts, and quietly scooted back to my bedroom to take care of that problem. I made up my mind right then that I'd find out what the deal was on her Tuesday night outings. I'd gone through a fairly intensive science experiment phase in junior high, and I still had a lot of my equipment. Over the next week I managed to cobble together a transponder and a detecting rig. It wouldn't range well, but our town wasn't big enough that I shouldn't be able to track her car. During the week I found myself looking at Mom in a whole new light. I hadn't particularly noticed before, but she kept herself in good shape for a woman in her mid-forties. Her business suits, while professionally cut, did nothing to hide her long strong legs or disguise the curves under the jacket. She had a full mane of brunette hair that came down just below her shoulders and really framed her face nicely. Aunt Bess had looked pretty hot when she was dating the auto guy, but I now realized that Mom looked hot even without such an obvious wardrobe. The following Tuesday I "remembered" in the morning to tell Mom that I had a study group at Ken's and that we were planning to go out for pizza or something afterward. When I got home after school, I gave Aunt Bess a quick kiss and hug and we had a quiet dinner until Mom left. I picked up my schoolbooks and left about five minutes later. I had the detecting rig hooked up to the cigarette lighter for power, and when I started up the car I heard the transponder signal, wobbly but clear. I drove halfway across town hearing the signal strengthen and fade, then turned ninety degrees and drove up and down, managing to get what I hoped was a fairly decent estimate of her location within, say, about fifteen blocks square. It took me an hour of slow driving, trying not to look like a suspicious character, until I topped a rise in one neighborhood and saw her car parked in the garage of a two-story house. I was lucky to see it, as my detecting rig wasn't sensitive enough to handle close work, and not all of the streetlights on that stretch of road were working. I parked about a block further down the street, and walked back ducking in and out of the shadows until I got to the two-story house. I worked my way between the bushes and the brick exterior, getting thorn cuts for my efforts but not hearing anything at the side windows. Around the back of the house I found a promising spot, a thin window low to the ground, where apparently the house had a basement. I got on my hands and knees among the strong-smelling flowers and listened at the window, but couldn't quite distinguish much in the muffled sounds other than the hubbub of female conversation and a light clattering noise. I yawned, and pressed my ear to the window but still could only catch fragments of words that seemed to fade away... I woke up in darkness, my head fuzzy. A few things slowly made their way into my consciousness - I was lying on something soft, my arms and legs were held outward from my body, and I could feel the air conditioning playing on my bare skin all over. I started to yell, or at least say something, but right at that moment a warm wet tongue slid into my ear. Moist breath caressed the side of my neck, and my body reacted the way all teenagers do. All of a sudden, talking didn't seem like a major priority for me. The tongue and lips moved down the front of my neck, and spent some time on my rudimentary nipples, sending little flashes of sensation straight from there to my now throbbing but untouched cock. I was biting my lip by this time, and when the unknown mouth suddenly dove down on my erection I let out a yelp and exploded, lifting my hips up as far off the floor (or bed, or whatever) as my restraints would let me. Fingers played around my testicles and the mouth swallowed until I was drained, limp, and panting from exhaustion. My mom's voice said "Don't worry, you'll have more fun the second time around." I nearly sprained something trying to jump up and run, but the restraints were very secure. I felt the comforting touch of my mother's hand along my forehead, soothing me as she had done so many times when I was little. But of course, I wasn't little, I was practically a grown man now, and being naked in front of my mother was just way different than it had been when I was little. Still, I managed to calm down as her palm stroked my temple and she said, "I've got a story to tell you, dear, so please relax and listen." "Your father, bless his heart, wasn't terribly good with money. I didn't know this until after he died, when I found out we were over our heads in debt. I found a job with your aunt's help, but that only took care of covering the mortgage, food and clothing; it didn't take care of the back bills, and it looked like I would have to sell our house." "Then your aunt came to me with a proposal. You probably don't know this, because we've kept you pretty sheltered, but your aunt is a very sexual woman, always has been going back to when she and I were growing up. Anyway, she belonged to a kind of sex club in town, and she got the group to offer me a, well, arrangement. If I would put myself at their disposal once a week, they would take over our past debts and arrange to get them paid off in installments." I squirmed and started to protest, but Mom laid her hand on my mouth and quieted me. "I know, dear, but remember I was looking at having to sell our house, move to a different neighborhood, you would have had to change schools. And besides, this was my sister..." Mom drew a long breath and continued. "Sometimes the entire club gets together, but usually on Tuesday night I go to someone's house; maybe a man, maybe a woman. I get a phone call in the morning telling me where and what to wear. Sometimes we just play cards or watch television. Sometimes I give them a manicure or bath. Sometimes... well, you're a senior in high school so you can probably imagine." I could indeed imagine, and the images of my mother with strange men and women were urging my erection to full mast despite myself. "So, dear, you have a choice to make since you followed me here. As I see it, you have three options. You could get up and go home, and promise not to follow me again. I can assure you that Aunt Bess will be more than happy to enforce that. She thinks you're cute but need some discipline, and I can't say that she's always wrong about that." I wasn't sure whether I liked the thought of Aunt Bess giving me discipline or not. "Or, you can stay here for the evening. There are two other women here, and although you'd have to keep the blindfold on I'm sure you could make yourself useful. I promise you'd be well rewarded for your energy and enthusiasm; they've both told me how much they would enjoy having an unspoiled young man to play with." "Finally, and this would be entirely up to you, Aunt Bess and I could propose you for the group. You're old enough to make your own decisions, and you might find the company and the experience somewhat more broadening than going to the drive-in with that girl from your history class. I know I'd be flattered to have you join me, I mean us." I thought about it, and finally agreed to stay with the blindfold for now and think about the group later. Right after I said that, I felt smooth hands and fingers running over my arms and legs, unfastening my bindings. I was a man of my word; in the next several hours I didn't come close to trying to take off my blindfold, even though it meant I had no idea whose breast I was suckling on, nor who was riding me to her own orgasm. When the evening was over, I got a six-handed sponge bath that would have had me raring to go if I'd had the least bit of strength left in my poor aching worn-out groin. Mom left the room, telling me I could get dressed and come out when I was ready. I did that, and when I opened the door she was waiting for me, dressed demurely and holding her purse. "Mom..." I started, but she shushed me, saying "I know, there'll be time to talk later. Right now we have to get you home, young man. It is, after all, a school night!" She gave me a ride to where I had my car parked, and followed me home from there. When we got home, Aunt Bess was waiting up for us. First she gave me a big hug and a decidedly non-Aunt kiss on the lips, then she gave my Mom a big hug and the same kind of kiss. My eyes got big, and it occurred to me that the rest of my senior year might just be very interesting. Later that night, after I'd brushed my teeth and gotten into bed, Mom opened the door to my room just as she always did. "Good night, hon," she said. I held her from going, saying "Mom, I've got one question though. You've been doing this for something like seven years now. Just how bad off were we when Dad died?" I heard my mother chuckle in the darkness. "Oh, that. Well, to tell you the truth, son, I paid off the last of those debts two years ago. Sleep well, dear!" ***** {END} ***** Completed 2000-05-17, 2527 words Copyright (c) 2000 Rajah Dodger (rdodger@hotmail.com) This story has also appeared on line at StoriesOnLine. /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\ -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>| | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+