"Shower him with love," Mr. Farraday had emphasized with reference to Don. "When there's strife in the family and a child is reacting negatively to it, the only solution is to convince the teen in the most direct way possible that he is still loved."
I left the meeting with Mr. Farraday determined to devote all my energies to my son's well-being. My secret life would just have to take a back-seat for a while to the responsibilities of motherhood.
At home I began to keep. a close eye on Don, monitoring his behavior so I could find just the right time to approach him. For one thing I wanted to catch him in his most receptive moment to reassure him of my love for him; and, for another, I wanted to make sure we were alone so there would be no interruptions.
A perfect setting for my plan occurred one evening near the end of the week. It was Ted's bowling night, and Sally was having one of her infamous double-dates with Trudy Cooper. Tonight it would be just me and my son.
I made Don his favorite dinner and permitted him to watch anything he wanted on television, no matter how violent. Turned out that Don was a big Farrah Fawcett-Majors fan. Practically drooled over her.
I hadn't realized my boy was growing up so fast. If his reaction to "Charlie's. Angels" was any indication, he had figured out that girls were good for something more than teasing.
During a commercial at the middle of the show, Don excused himself to go to the bathroom. When the show resumed and he didn't return, I began to wonder what had happened to him. The way he'd been following the action, I was surprised that he'd allow himself to miss even a minute of it.
I found myself drawn to the bathroom, wondering what he was doing in there. After all, I reasoned, he might have diarrhea, and as his mother I should know about it. Kids will never tell you anything on their own.
Halfway down the hall, I could hear Don gasping and groaning, in spite of the closed door. He sounded as though he were in some kind of pain. I started to worry.
But I didn't want to just burst in on him. Kids have a right to privacy just like everyone else.
On the other hand, I just couldn't let this pass. If something was wrong, it was my duty to do something about it.
Perhaps a peek through the keyhole would be an effective compromise.
Kneeling outside the door, I pressed my eye to the opening in the lock and looked inside. It took me a few seconds to get the correct angle on my son-but, then there he was.
He was sitting on the toilet with his pants down, all right, but there was no bowel movement involved. In fact, the lid was down and he was perched on it. Defecation was clearly not his motivation in going to the bathroom.
His dick was out, and he was stroking it. It was hard. And much longer than I ever would have guessed.
He was jacking-off!
Unsurprisingly, the source of his arousal was Farrah Fawcett-Majors. While he beat his meat, he gazed at a picture in a magazine of her. He was talking to the photograph.
"Oh, I wanna fuck you so bad," he was panting. "Put my cock in your hairy cunt. Mmmmmmmm…"
His hand was stroking faster and faster in his excitement. Then he dropped the magazine, sighed, and his prick lurched from his grip. A creamy missile shot from the tip and arched a foot and a half in the air. When it landed, it plopped noisily on the tile floor, literally splashing.
He'd come, but he still wasn't through. Retrieving the magazine, he pressed the photograph of Farrah Fawcett-Majors to the dribbling head of his cock and smeared the rest of his semen all over the glossy surface.
"Eat it!" he implored the image of the female of his fantasy. "Suck up every drop!"
I didn't know what to do, Should I leave? And if I did, should I say anything? Drop some hints, perhaps?
Or should I just hold my ground? Not beat around the bush, but rather, openly acknowledge to my son that his mother knew that he was growing up and becoming a man?
Kneeling there at the keyhole, I was forced to evaluate my feelings. Sure it was shocking to discover my teenage son masturbating. But, on the other hand, wasn't his action to be expected? Realistically, a mother should probably worry about an adolescent son who doesn't jerk-off.
And then there was something else. Something I didn't want to admit to myself at first, but which I couldn't avoid. I could not ignore it.
I was hopelessly aroused by the sight of my own son's erect penis. I'd never thought of Don in a sexual context before, but now this was all changed. When I inadvertently rubbed my thighs together, I felt a tell-tale moistness and realized that the pussy which had borne my son was absolutely sopping from the image of his maturing cock.
When he started to put his tool away, I found myself mentally urging him not to do so. I wanted to see more. And maybe even beyond that.
My ESP was working. Don stopped pulling up his pants, and began fondling his prick again. It was restored to its previous rigidity almost immediately, as he resumed beating off.
While I pantingly watched, the words of Mr. Farraday concerning my son and his troubles came back to me: "Shower him with love," he had said.
And what, I told myself, is a purer expression of love than sex?
Why hadn't I seen it before? This was the perfect moment I had been waiting for to show Don how much I loved him. There could be no more effective therapy for my son's dangerously low self-esteem than sex with his mother.
What better way to show my son how much I loved him than by letting him fuck me?
Bolting upright, I quickly stripped. Whatever inhibitions I had remaining were dissolved by the sight of my own naked body. My tits were a blush and heaving, my cunt flexing hairily. The pussy juice was trickling down my quivering thighs.
I was totally primed to fuck my son. All at once it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. How had I been so blind as to ignore this course of action?
Yanking open the door I stood nude before Don. You should have seen his face.
"M-M-Mom," he stammered.
I didn't say anything at first, deciding that under the circumstances actions would speak louder than words. Going to the toilet, I knelt before my son, took his hard-on in my hands, and crammed it into my mouth.
He gasped. He gaped. Panted and swooned.
But, believe me, inside, I was doing the same thing.
Don's cock wasn't nearly as large as the others I'd been sampling since I'd launched my secret life. But its sweetness more than made up for it. God, it was like sucking on a stick of candy.
I orally took it all the way down to the root. And when there-was still plenty of space left in my mouth, gobbled up his balls. They were so smooth and round-like sucking on a pair of stones drawn from a river-bed.
All the while my son was looking at me as though I were an alien from outer space. And I can't say that I blamed him. After all, probably the last thing a kid expects when he retreats to the bathroom to jerk-off is for his mother to suddenly appear in the nude and begin sucking his cock.
However, radical measures have to be taken by a mother when her son is in emotional peril. Before I was finished with Don, I would make certain he knew I was taking this action for his own good. Not to mention mine.
Let's face it, once I had my lips around it, my son's prick stood on its own merit in my estimation. Now that I knew how sweet it was, I'd have broken my back to suck him off even if he'd been the picture of mental health.
I'd planned to get into the fucking right away, but now I'd decided on a detour to the big event. Why not have Don come in my mouth first? After all, as a teenage boy he had to have more than enough sperm for multiple ejaculations. I'd nurture my stomach before I had my cunt irrigated.
My squeezing lips began traversing virtually the entire expanse of my son's twitching boner. From hilted penetration I want to merely mouthing the heart-shaped head, and then back again.
Up and down. Back and forth. Sucking, sucking, sucking. Fucking Don with my mouth and loving it!
He still seemed to regard me as a Martian, but now his expression of incredulity was increasingly punctuated by a series of sharp gasps. Clearly, the orgasmic tide was rising within his loins.
Come! Come! I mentally implored. Jesus, I wanted his sweet young spunk so badly.
His cock lurched in my mouth so I hilted it for imminent eruption. With the head lodged in my gullet, Don exploded in a liquid cataclysm.
His cum was like molten lava mixed with sugar. It practically tore the roof off my skull and gave me diabetes at the same time.
When I'd sucked Mr. Farraday's prick, I'd been able to swallow every drop. But not with my son. It was just impossible. There was too much of the wonderful stuff.
My stomach got fuller and fuller. Finally it could hold no more and rebelled with a violent contraction.
The jizz came up like vomit. All of a sudden I was retching all over my son, showering him with his own semen.
But he made no move to get away. Still too stunned, I guess. Can't say that I could blame the poor kid.
While he sat on the toilet goggle-eyed and ripping, I began to crawl up on him. It was a slippery ascent, but I gained traction by digging my nails into him. Before he could react I was sitting straddle-legged on his lap, kissing him and rubbing his still-erect cock against my hairy pussy.
My tongue plunged down his throat, while my labia and clit simultaneously chafed his manhood. Mmmmmm, I couldn't wait to feel him inside me.
I was still soul-kissing him as I reached down for his cock and began fitting it into my cunt. I hoped I could constrict my muscles enough to make it a tight fit.
Don only had about six inches of phallic meat, and his tool was slender, but I was more than up to the challenge of creating the conditions for a perfect fuck. The sinews in my twat became like the strands of a noose, closing theft diameter until space was at a premium.
"Tight enough for you, honey?" I ended my kiss and nibblingly asked in his ear.
He tried to speak, but words were still an impossibility for him. No matter-I would provide, the verbal arousal for both of us.
"Fuck me, son," I obscenely crooned. "Fuck Mom as hard as you can. Move your dick inside me. Wiggle your ass like I'm wiggling mine."
He complied without hesitation. His libido had totally taken over the functions of his body. His mind may have still had some doubts about incest, but physically he was gung-ho.
While he fucked me, I stuck my tongue in his ear and imagined I was tickling his brain-making it as much of an erogenous zone as his more obvious ones. I wanted him with me all the way.
Then I took his hand and clasped it to my breasts. I craved his inexperienced fingers massaging my grown-up tits.
Taking my nipples and pinching them. Making them even harder than they were already. Black and blue if need be.
When his fingers found those magically protruding buds of incredibly tactile flesh, his reaction was divinely predictable. Yes, he squeezed them-one nipple and then the other. Hard…
It hurt so good.
Below, we were humping up a storm. Through the sterling adaptation of my pussy, Don's adolescent cock seemed as thick within me as any man's. Hell, as any stallion's.
Maybe penetration wasn't all it could be, however my womb seemed to come down to meet the head of his stabbing prick. When my cervix opened, my spasming uterus was as engorged with hard-on as it would have been with a foot-long specimen.
My hands were still free, so I decided to do a little fooling around with his balls. Those smooth spheres that were busily manufacturing the liquid platinum which would be the icing on this fuck. Maybe if I pumped them vigorously enough they would double their creamy output.
However, once I had seized his churning nuts, I was not inclined to stop my exploration. After all, didn't something delicious lay beyond his scrotum?
My index finger slid past his gonads into the sweaty crevice of my son's ass.
His anus was there waiting for me. Pouting.
I couldn't actually see it, of course, but there was nothing to stop me from closing my eyes and imagining it: Round. Red. Still free of the ravages of age. A cherry.
I gently poked inside. Mmmmmm, such warmth and tightness.
My finger wiggled and the tight orifice spasmed. Below I could feel the throbbing lump of my boy's suddenly gown-up prostate gland. When approached in this fashion, the male anatomy yielded interior treasures that were almost the equal of the female's.
The slant of my digital probing became angled downward. I wanted to test Don's prostate to the ultimate, forcing the gland to trigger the production of so much cum that my cunt would eventually explode from the onslaught.
Then, at what I gauged to be precisely the right moment, I curved my finger into a hook. An eagle's talon.
I yanked it out with a screeching rip. As I had anticipated, it was like pulling the plug on my son's bloated seminal ducts.
The dam broke. An onslaught of jizz came roaring from my son's dick. It was like the Johnstown Flood between my legs.
So much cum. And, so, so hot and sticky. If Don's girlfriends and eventual wife didn't use every birth control at their command, I was going to wind up with a whole passel of grandchildren.
Even before he had finished spurting, my cunt had more than it could take. The cum had ballooned my womb so that it was at least three times its normal size. A reversal of the flow was inevitable.
Out it came, rushing for daylight even stronger than it had entered. Don's prick was pushed out by the roiling pressure, quickly followed by the liquid evidence of the force itself,
It was beyond my control. The kick of the discharge sent me toppling off the toilet. I landed on the bathroom floor, my legs spread, with my gaping pussy leaking copiously all over the tile.
What a mess. What a wonderful, glorious mess!
And I wanted even more of the same. Much, much more!
"Fuck me again, Don!" I cried when I noticed with excitement that his dick, remained as hard as steel. "There's still more of Mom to fuck. You've Only come three times all together. I know you can make it four."
"B-but wh-where?" he stammered, speaking for the first time since the fun had begun.
"Well," I teased him with a drawl, "you've come in Mom's mouth and her pussy-which hole do you think is left, sweetheart?"
He thought about it for a moment and then suddenly blanched. From there his face went to the deep blush of embarrassment. The, little rascal was on my wavelength, all right.
"Want me to show it to you?" I grinned. "I like showing it off."
I didn't wait for his answer. Instead I rolled over onto my hands and knees like a bitch in heat and wiggled my ass before his eyes. Then, slowly, tantalizingly, I pulled open my haunches so the crack of my butt would part.
By the time I had completed the separation of my buns, I could feel my anus glowing out in the open like a pinkly tinted light-bulb. It might as well have had a big sign pointing to it, saying: "Fuck me hard!"
Oh, I wanted it so badly. And, believe me, I let my feelings be known. "Get off the pot and stick your dick in Mom's butt, Don!" I pleaded with my son. "I won't be satisfied until you re splitting me in two!"
"B-but I-I can't," he stuttered. "It seems Wrong somehow.'"
"You're my lover now, not just my son," I etched the bottom line. "Nothing is wrong between two people who want to get it on."
"Are y-you s-sure?" he verbally staggered.
"This is your mother talking!" I fiercely pulled rank. Then, with vivid and sudden contrast, I cooed: "And your lover."
"And you-you want my d-d-dick in your ass?"
"More than anything. And if you won't do it on your own, I'll find a way to rape you, stud."
I glanced over my shoulder to see if extreme measures would actually be needed.
Don was getting off the pot and moving toward me. His face was still contorted by disbelief, however his loins were fortunately doing the thinking for him. His twitching hard-on was attracted to my asshole as though there were a magnetic field in operation.
"That's it, honey," I urged him on. "Mom wants it soooo much. Your big strong cock in her tight asshole. Fucking my guts."
He was down on his knees behind me. For the first time since I'd eavesdropped on him masturbating, he was operating his own dick. Holding it in his hand like a dagger, he prepared to gloriously wound me in my tightest and most intimate hole. Bugger Mom until she screamed.
Now the head of his prick was between my spread cheeks. Brushing against my anal petals. Mmmmmm, it felt so good!
But it would feel infinitely better when it was jack-hammering within me to the hilt. When I was being whipsawed with rectal orgasm.
"Push!" I instructed.
Don's cock seemed to surge entirely on its own. It was like a stake plunging into soft turf.
There was no hesitation. It was inside me all the way on the first try. My son's nuts were roiling against my pussy a notch below the point of phallic entry.
He was trying for his fourth ejaculation within mere minutes. Could he bring it off as splendidly as he'd done three times before?
Believe me, I did my utmost to assure that he would maintain his spectacular track record. The muscles of my ass were like a stroking vise, rippling up and down the total expanse of his tool. I wanted his cum more this time than I had any of the other times. I guess a real woman gets greedier after each eruption.
And incest especially brings out the voracious best in the female character. Particularly when a mother is being fucked by her son in the ass.
"Do it!" I cried. "Let go! Come in Mom's ass!"
Don's cock responded as though it were reacting to a cue. My desperate urging seemed to have even more of an effect on his pistoning tool than my tight ass. For it was instantaneously after I spoke that his phallus surged that tell-tale extra increment, and I knew the fourth ejaculation was going to be the best of all.
Don's ejaculatory surge was not merely the usual inch or so. No, this one actually seemed to expand his cock to the length of a grown man's.
A generously endowed grown man.
The explosion came like the detonation of a missile. A liquid rocket was launched in my ass, surging to the infinity of my colonic depths.
I literally collapsed from the impact. I'd thought I could take anything any cock had to pour into me-but I'd failed to reckon with the vigor of my teenage son.
I was writhing on the floor, Don's cock no longer within me, and his cum pouring from my shit-pit. Orgasm had totally enveloped me, turning me into a thrashing victim of sensual epilepsy. It's a wonder I didn't smash my brains out all over the tile floor and porcelain fixtures of the bathroom.
It was magnificent. I'd sought to shower my son with love.
And in return he had showered me with cum.
Color me Mother!