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HisFathersSonII
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Copyright © 1998, Shakespeare_I._Aint. ALL Rights Reserved
Name: His Father's Son Part II (D/s, m/F, incest,humilation,anal)
Part 1: In part one of His Father's Son by Shakespeare_I._Aint, Jack
Hornher confronts his divorced after she picks up a stranger at a
bar and brings him home for sex. Jack takes advantage of his Mother's
penchant for humiliation to their mutual satisfaction.
--------------------------His Father's Son Part
II-------------------------
Sixteen year Jack Hornher refastened the faux shutters to the brick
in the front of his home and stepped back to survey his work. He had
repainted the shutters a Kelly green. Yes, they looked fine; almost brand
new.
The house as a whole was shaping up nicely. After years of neglect, the
lawn, landscaping and facade of the simple, ranch-style home had suffered.
Now, after Jack Hornher and his Mother, Susan, had moved in, the work was
getting done.
Jack picked up his tools and walked back to the two car garage behind
their home. In the last week he had mowed, weeded, fertilized, and edged
the lawn; and trimmed back the overgrown shrubs. The past few days he had
been working on the appearance of the house itself. He had repainted the
front entry door, as well as rescreened the ancient, torn screens. Jack
was feeling happy about himself. He had learned and done his work well.
Already two sets of neighbors had come and introduced themselves to Jack
and his Mom. All had praised the work done on the home since they had
taken occupancy.
Jack heard the sharp buzzer of the dryer in the basement. Another load
of clothes done; ready to be folded and put away. So different from the
old life they had with Sterling Hornher, Jack's Father. They had a
maid--not a live-in maid mind you--but Jack's clothes had always magically
appeared in his drawer and he never considered the effort it took to do
laundry.
It was late on a Friday afternoon and Jack was waiting for a phone call
from his Mother. She would tell him if she was coming home for dinner or
going out with her friend and confidante, Hyacinth Green. If she was
coming home, Jack had a steak and a tossed salad to offer his after
another long day at the title company. If she went out with Hyacinth she
had better come back a little bit drunk, and in the mood for some sex.
All work and no play was making Jack a dull boy. A dull, horny boy.
A dull, horny with the key to his mother's footlocker in the bedroom
closet.
Six days ago, Jack had humiliated his after she returned home
from a bar with a man. She had bedded the guy and Jack had been there to
watch from the secrecy of her closet. After the gentleman caller left,
Jack was there to pile on the guilt and shame. He had been able to take
control of the situation and had bedded his Mother; spending himself inside
her mouth.
Six days had passed, with virtually no mention of that lusty night.
Susan Hornher rose each morning to go to work, and came home each night to
dinner and some odd jobs involving their new home. She had only mentioned
the night once. While eating dinner on Monday night, she had blurted out
that she didn't want him in her "vagina". Stunned, Jack could only murmur
acceptance of her demand. He hadn't even asked why. By the time he
formulated a defense, Susan was gone.
The phone rang.
Susan Hornher waited nervously for her son, Jack, to answer the phone.
Her workweek was over and she and Hyacinth were going to start the weekend
right by heading out for dinner and drinks. A part of her desperately
wanted to go with Hyacinth for a normal divorced activity. The
other part of her wanted Jack to order her to come home now.
After almost a week, Susan still didn't know how to feel about the night
Jack caught her fucking the she had picked up. The fact that Jack knew
the key to her sexual pleasure, the humiliation and embarrassment she
craved, was unsettling to her. The idea that her son had laid his penis in
front of her face and told her to suck still sent a charge through her just
thinking about it. Her son. She had sex with her son. And she had come
repeatedly. Like a little whore. A slutty, little whore. With her
ex-husband's trick, a beer bottle wedged up her vagina. What a Mother.
The intervening days had passed quickly for Susan. She watched Jack
closely to get an idea of how the experience had affected him. But Jack
seemed occupied with getting their home fixed up. He was his normal quiet,
confident self. She caught herself looking closely at him while he worked.
Jack was a tall, slim good looking man, she realized. Capable of
doing a man's work. She blushed at the thought. While she waited for Jack
to answer the phone, she still didn't know what she really wanted him to
say.
Jack stared at the phone wildly as it rang. He collected himself and
then answered after the fifth ring.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Jack. It's me," Susan said. "How's things going?"
"Pretty Good," Jack answered. "I've got the shutters back up and they
look all right." Jack waited.
"Oh, that's nice, I can't wait to see them," Susan offered. "Listen,
Hyacinth and I were thinking about going out tonight for a bite to eat. Is
that okay--will you be all right by yourself for a few hours?"
"I'll be fine," Jack answered glibly. "I've still got some stuff to do
in the basement before I arrange the basement furniture. You just go out
and catch some stud. If I'm sleeping when you get home, I'll see you
tomorrow."
"Jack, I'll be home in a few hours, before 10:00 I bet. It won't be
like last week," Susan protested, feeling like she was asking permission
from her sixteen year son.
"What won't be like last week?"
"That I had too much to drink and brought Bill home," Susan confessed
guiltily.
"Mom, you're a grown woman in your own home. You can do what you want.
You need to get out and enjoy life. Just do better than a "Bill" and
you're already ahead of the game."
"Well...they're not beating down the doors to get at me, Jack," Susan
said mournfully.
"You go out and have fun. I'll see you later, okay?" Jack wanted his
mother to enjoy a little nightlife but he was damned if he was going to
boost her confidence to go shag some guy she met in a bar. They rang off.
Jack prepared a few hamburgers for himself before tackling his next
project, the dusty, basement of the home. It was a fairly nice basement,
although it had been "finished" back in the early seventies; with the green
shag carpet, dark wood paneling, and a curtain of beads which separated the
main area from the basement laundry room. The basement also contained a
fairly nice dry bar with mirrored shelves on the wall behind the bar, and a
place for a small television up in the top corner near the ceiling. The
basement was dry but not musty, and fairly warm. Jack spent three hours
down there, sweeping, mopping, and wiping down the walls, while juggling
his laundry schedule. After the cleaning, the basement seemed more
comfortable, and Jack started to arrange the furnishings they had brought
from the house. While he worked, he pondered the question of whether
he could reasonably expect to lay his when she got home. And more
importantly, whether he should have some "game" prepared for her. He
couldn't handle the thought of preparing for sex, and being rejected. It
would be psychologically crushing to him. To go into her closet and unlock
the footlocker which held the lingerie and sexual implements from her
married life, only to have his advances turned away would be devastating.
It would be like saying that he wasn't a man, and that his would
rather go without than have him staking his claim to her sexual favors.
Jack writhed in an agony of indecision while he worked. He finally
decided that the safest course of action was inaction.
At 9:30, Jack finished his work in the basement. He looked at the
completed job. The sofa, loveseat, walnut tables, and recliners from the
large room of the house had been relegated, for lack of space,
into the basement of the new home. The expensive furniture looked
incongruous placed amidst the seventies motif of the basement, but there
was no help for that. Jack had arranged a comfortable, though uninspired,
conversational grouping near the bar. At 9:35, he mixed himself a gin and
tonic from the liquor cabinet addendum he had placed at the bar. Ice from
the small fridge at the home. Just like Downtown, he thought merrily.
He waited for something to happen.
At 10:00 p.m. the front screen door opened. Jack could hear his
speaking. Had she brought another home? Jack heard the reply. A
feminine voice. Must be Hyacinth.
Susan Hornher let herself in and held the door open for Hyacinth Green,
her closest friend. She and Hyacinth had a good buzz going from the large
drinks at the restaurant/bar in the Flats. Hyacinth had scored again; her
looks and personality winning her a date later on a real-estate developer's
boat. It was the damnedest thing, and exasperating for Susan to see how
easy it was for Hyacinth to pick up a man.
They had both been seated at a small table, having drinks when they had
been approached by two well-dressed in their thirties. Both reeked of
success. They asked if they could sit down and buy drinks for the ladies.
Hyacinth, never one to pass on an opportunity to drink for free, had them
sit themselves down. She controlled the conversation immediately.
Don and Rich,(and he certainly looked rich), had the easygoing
confidence of successful white males in their prime. Their casual clothes
were expensive and accessorized manfully by the watches and gold bracelets
on each man's right hand. Effortless, understated elegance and style.
Rich and Don freely admitted their divorced status. Rich developed real
estate; Don owned six dry-cleaning franchises near the downtown hotels.
Drinks were ordered and the two set into conversation with their
intended targets. Susan soon realized that Don was only occupying her
attention to give Rich free rein on Hyacinth. Don asked her perfunctory
questions about her work and interests while surreptitiously glancing at
his watch. Within a half hour, Rich had secured a promise from Hyacinth to
meet him later for a cruise on Lake Erie on his 42 foot Sea Ray. Susan was
left out in the cold with only a "nice meeting you" from the as they
departed.
Why did Hyacinth find it so easy to get dates? Susan wondered. She
answered her own question. Hyacinth Green was in her middle thirties, like
Susan. She was thrice divorced with no kids. She had a nice sportscar,
and a 2,000 square foot condo. Not bad for an "executive assistant". She
was a tall, leggy with a flawless body. Moreover, her personality
exuded sexuality, and her causal banter with men, laced with innuendo, made
them hot to have a chance with her. To be seen with her. To lay her.
After leaving the bar, Hyacinth suggested heading back to see Susan's
new home. Hyacinth needed to touch up her makeup prior to heading to the
boat, and seeing Susan's humble abode would be killing two birds with one
stone.
In the basement, Jack could hear Hyacinth's exclamation's of delight
over his mother's comfortable, little home. To Jack's ears they rang false
as he waited for them to come into the basement.
"Jack, are you downstairs?" his called.
"Yes," Jack answered.
Susan and Hyacinth came down the stairs, Susan explaining that Jack had
been working hard on the home since they had moved in. Jack watched
Hyacinth's beautiful legs as they appeared step by step into his vision.
Hyacinth was wearing a black leather mini skirt without hosiery of any
kind. A beige silk blouse, unbuttoned to the top of her magnificent
breasts. Green eyes, long hair. Fascinating.
Hyacinth's eyes roved around the basement and she made the appropriate
comments to Susan's mother. Her eyes rested casually on Jack as he sat
behind the bar.
"Well, look at you Jackie," she crooned. "You've grown since I last saw
you. You're turning into quite a aren't you? Your Mom's gonna have
to beat the off you won't she?"
Jack felt his face blush and he struggled to contain himself. Hyacinth
was a sexual force of nature.
"So far, I've been too busy to even try to get a girl," Jack blurted,
then mentally castigated himself for such a lame response.
"Barkeep, what are you serving? You're not drinking are you? You're
too young." Hyacinth said sweetly to Jack.
"No, I'm just drinking Sprite. But I can make you whatever you want.
The drinking lamp is lit..." Jack smacked himself mentally again for his
silly repartee. It was damn hard to talk with Hyacinth. She drove all his
composure right out of him.
"I can't hon. I'm meeting a guy on his boat. I just stopped by to see
the house and freshen up. The place looks good. Your tells me
you're the of the house now..."
Jack's eyes widened. Had his spilled their secret? He glanced
quickly at his mother, who was standing stock still watching him. Her face
was red. She shook her head almost imperceptibly.
"Yes, I've been doing a lot of stuff around here, trying to get things
back to normal. This house needs a lot of work," Jack said quickly.
"Well, you're doing a nice job. Susan, I've got to freshen up and get
out of here," Hyacinth winked at Jack and headed back up the stairway.
Jack watched her perfect ass undulate up the stairs. When he returned his
gaze to his Mother, she was staring at him. Her eyes looked glassy, as
though she would cry.
"What's wrong?" Jack asked quickly
"It's tough competing against someone who looks like Hyacinth", Susan
stated quietly. "Actually, there is no competition".
"You go up and see her out the door. I'll mix you a gin and tonic for
when you get back. Then we'll talk about who's got what," Jack suggested
amiably.
Susan turned to head upstairs to see Hyacinth out to her car without
questioning Jack. As her foot touched the bottom stair, Jack called to
her.
"Hey..."
Susan turned her face back to Jack. He grinned. "Now, I'm watching
your ass. And it looks nice."
Susan blushed, and almost fled up the stairs. Jack watched her full
bottomed motherly ass swing up the stairs. Susan was wearing a gray wool
skirt with tan hose and a white blouse. She stood about 5'5" and 140
pounds; not bad for 38 years old. Her hips and ass were white marbled
wonders; full and lush; her nice, saggy handfuls. True, she had
some marks on her butt and stomach, and faint bluish veins on the
sides of her titties, but the overall was one comfortable, warm
lovely woman. Susan had a pretty face and a beautiful, shy smile. And a
humiliation streak a mile wide.
Jack almost whistled as he mixed his a strong drink. He heard
the flush upstairs and the resultant run of water through the waste
pipes in the basement. He heard his resume conversation with
Hyacinth, who was saying her good-byes. They walked out the front door.
Jack was elated. He had a good chance with his tonight. And a
chance to serve in a new role as Mom's Confessor. She seemed upset about
something and he would find out what. And put his own spin on the problem
and feed it back to her. And his answer would contain the sublimated need
for to put out. Damn, he should have gotten some of Mom's toys ready.
Susan watched as Hyacinth's Viper backed out the driveway and sped away.
Susan was feeling sorry for herself, half drunk and depressed. The ease
with which Hyacinth breezed through life was disheartening. A beautiful
body, beautiful home, beautiful car, beautiful clothes, money in the bank.
And a way with Men. She was never at a loss for a man--hadn't started any
of her divorces until the next well-to-do guy was already waiting in the
wings. Never overly obedient to the vows of matrimony, Hyacinth lived an
exciting life as both a and divorced woman.
Susan had eagerly related last weekend's adventure with "Bill", the faux
cowboy they had met at a country bar. She omitted Bill's premature
ejaculation and the part where she actually ended up fucking her own son.
Susan was aiming at Hyacinth's jealousy--Hyacinth had gone home
empty-handed that night. But before her was half finished, she
realized that Bill wasn't even in Hyacinth's league, and that she was
receiving almost sympathetic glances from Hyacinth as she told the story.
Hyacinth congratulated her sincerely on having "broken the ice" as Bill was
the first she had sex with since her marriage dissolved. She could
tell Hyacinth wasn't jealous, or even slightly impressed. One guy in three
months. Not a very inspiring record, Susan reflected.
Susan went back into the house. She hesitated, almost afraid to join
Jack at the basement bar. Afraid of what might happen. She sat down on
the thinking furiously as she urinated. She glanced down at the
green bikini-cut she was wearing. Probably shouldn't wear those,
she thought. Need something safer, less likely to excite. After wiping,
careful not to brush the little in the boat, she flushed and then slid
the down the laundry chute. She went to her bedroom and donned a
loose white pair of nice, sensible, motherly panties. Armored with this
white talisman of virtue, she refastened the wool skirt. She checked her
appearance in the full-length bedroom mirror, then chided herself. What am
I doing?, she wondered. I want to look nice to my son? She fled the
bedroom, uncertain that she wanted to even go into the basement. Well,
we'll just talk, and then I'll go to bed--alone-,she amended. Susan
Hornher headed slowly down the stairs, her legs feeling heavy and weak as
she descended.
In the basement, Jack heard his come back into the house after
saying her good-byes to Hyacinth. Untouchable Hyacinth, goddess of sexual
appeal. Lost in a reverie of Hyacinth's charms, he was startled by the
flush of the upstairs toilet. What followed was a sound familiar to Jack.
The whoosh of clothing--in this case, a pair of green rayon
panties--falling down the laundry chute. Jack left his perch behind the
bar. He parted the bead curtain and peered into the laundry room. The
panties lay upon the tiled basement floor, alone. Jack hadn't replaced the
laundry bag that connected to the bottom of the chute to collect the
clothing that fell. Jack's mouth went dry as he stared. He went over and
picked up the panties--a sort of feminine manna. He found the crotch and
held it to his nose. Jack inhaled the musky essence of his Mother's
femininity from her most private garment. A warm, humid, fragrant hint of
the mysterious regions shielded from his view. His cock surged within his
shorts, rising vertically and majestically to stand beating four/fifths
time against his belly. Damn. Is this what her smelled like? Did
they all smell like that? What a scent! Totally unfamiliar to Jack's
olfactory senses, nonetheless recognized on a primeval level. Jack inhaled
through his nose and felt like rubbing his cock inside his pants until he
shot. It was time to rut.
Jack heard his walking through the kitchen. He reluctantly
pulled the off his nose. I should have been sniffing these all
along while I was doing laundry, he thought. I'm getting awful weird--I
need to go out and get some new friends...
Jack glided back behind the bar as his descended the stairs. He
placed the on a small shelf in front of him, out of her view. They
could come in handy, whether he got laid or not.
"Belly up to the bar, Mom, I've fixed you a large gin and tonic, with a
twist of lime," Jack was feeling ebullient.
"I don't like bar stools Jack. They're too high for me--I always feel
like I'm going to fall right off," his said, accepting his proffered
glass. "I'll just sit on the couch."
Susan seated herself and glanced around the room appreciatively. "You
have been busy. This basement looks great. Really great. Although this
carpeting is something else," Susan stated casually, afraid to look at her
son directly in the eyes. It was easier to survey the green shag
carpet.
"Yeah, it's carpeting all right. But it's in good shape and we
don't have to replace it immediately." Jack answered, rather at a loss for
conversational gambits.
"It's nice and warm down here--not too cold or clammy."
"Yeah, the guy behind us--Mr. Havasu--said the basements around here
are like that--they stay dry", Jack offered. "The air is dry because the
air-conditioning takes out the humidity". Jack felt foolish giving a
half-assed science lesson to his Mother. And she had glanced involuntarily
at the closest basement window when he mentioned the neighbor's name. Bad
move, he thought to himself.
"Jack, do you find me attractive?" Susan asked pensively.
"Yes, I do," Jack murmured.
"Tell me the truth--would you take Hyacinth over me if you had a chance
to make love to one of us?"
"No, I wouldn't." Jack stared at his Mother, hoping she wasn't setting
some kind of verbal trap for him. What was she getting at?
"Why wouldn't you pick her?", Susan looked earnestly up at his face,
sipping her drink.
Jack knew it was time to tap-dance. Time to get the party started. And
hopefully he wouldn't step on any landmines that blew his chances. He
hated essay questions.
"It's not a question of why I wouldn't pick her. It's a question of why
I would pick you." He waited, feeling that he was off to a good start.
"And why would you pick me? I'm the same age as her, but she's got the
body. I've got the sags and veins and wrinkles. She's got the
personality--she's a success. I'm just a 38 year divorced who
can't find a decent to take her to dinner." Jack noticed that his
had the slightest slur to her speech after a few hours of drinking at the
bar. She had relaxed on the sofa, her left leg, once tucked easily under
her right leg, which rested on the floor, had shifted. The offending left
leg, which had presented a horizontal bar to Jack's view up her skirt, had
moved forward as his rested against the back cushioning of the sofa.
A small triangle of dark space had revealed itself. Susan gulped her
drink.
"I find you more approachable, and more attractive than Hyacinth. She's
downright scary how beautiful and sensual she is. She scares me--I know
that. I'd prefer someone more comfortable and down-to-earth sexy than
Hyacinth. Besides, hasn't she been three times?" Susan nodded her
head, staring back at the floor. "So she's some kind of man-eater, I
guess. Maybe I'm just saying I'd prefer someone nice, like you."
"Thanks, Jackie, but I'm not talking about a relationship thing. I
asked who you would make love to if you had one chance."
"Make love to or Fuck?" Jack demanded. Susan blushed and finished her
gin before answering.
"'Fuck,' if you want to put it like that..."
"I'd rather fuck you. You get downright dirty while Hyacinth would be
wondering about her makeup."
"What about make love? Who then?"
"You," Jack said easily.
"Why"?
"Because I do love you".
Jack came around the bar. "I'll make you another drink, and then we're
off to bed." He prayed that his statement did not meet with spirited
resistance on his Mother's part.
Susan's eyes widened in alarm, as he approached. She clutched her
glass, then released it to him. As her son walked away, She was losing
control again, giving in to his words, spoken with an easy confidence and
finality.
She had to say something--had to get back into control. "I was thinking
about heading off to bed myself anyway."
Jack mixed two more gin and tonics while he digested that statement.
Resistance. Got to get past that resistance. He brought her new drink
over to her, staring down first at her eyes, which were held up to his, in
not the most steady gaze he had ever seen; then down to her breasts. His
eyes burned on her blouse as he answered.
"You had an extra word in your sentence, Mom. You said you were
thinking about heading off to bed 'yourself'. You meant you were thinking
about heading off to bed anyway."
Susan felt him staring at her chest as he spoke. All of a sudden, her
groin tingled and her nipples stiffened with the embarrassment. He's
turning me on, she thought, he's humiliating me. Just like his used
to do. As he walked back behind the bar, she found herself watching him.
His slim, boyish body, and he wanted her.
Jack walked back to the safety behind the bar. Had his gambit worked?
He watched his mother. She was blushing; her face red. She squirmed in
her seat, avoiding eye contact. It was working. It was working!
"I've got a little mystery to solve, Susan," Jack said, going on
instinct now and using his Mother's name for the first time. She gave a
small gasp, staring wide-eyed at him.
"I'm gonna need your help to solve it," he added cockily, his heart
starting to pound in his chest. His penis as ascendant now, a barometer of
his progress. He waited for her to answer--wanted her to participate in
this game.
Finally, "What"?, gasped his Mother.
"Put both feet on the floor, and hike your skirt just the tiniest bit,"
Jack ordered softly.
Susan felt a hot flush pour down her body. The blood was pounding in
her ears. She felt unworldly, her mind divorced from her body. She was
frozen, until he spoke again, jarring her senses.
"Spread your legs a little bit."
Susan's gave an electric shock of alarm. Her and nipples
started to ache in the confinement of her bra.
"Come on," Jack urged.
Susan placed both feet on the floor, staring at her legs as she did so.
She placed both hands on the hem of her skirt and pulled the bottom
slightly up her thighs. She couldn't face Jack.
"More. Pull your skirt up more. So you can spread your legs."
Susan reluctantly raised her bottom off the couch and pulled the skirt
up her thighs. She kept her legs together primly.
"Now spread your legs."
Susan moaned and spread her thighs a few inches, knowing she was
exposing her panty-clad crotch to her son.
"More."
His seemed to shrug inwardly, then spread her legs. The tops of
her thigh-high brown hosiery were visible, clinging to her solid legs. As
she completely spread, her crotch was visible to Jack. A few short,
curly black hairs escaped confinement, displaying themselves at the sides
of her crotch. Highly intoxicating, thought Jack.
"Just as I suspected," announced Jack.
"Whaa--what?", Susan stammered, looking over at him, her face red,
almost humiliated to tears. Please don't let him make fun of my body, she
prayed, I couldn't stand that.
"You've got white on," Jack answered, matter of factly.
"So?", his urged him for more information. Humiliate me if you
want--that's okay--but don't me down deep--don't tell me the things
about my body that I already believe.
"So? Well, if you've got on, then whose are these?" Jack
whipped out the green from behind the bar with a flourish. He held
them up on one finger close to the side of his face. He smiled engagingly
at his Mother.
Susan gave a wordless cry of shame. She stared at the bikini-cut
panties she had slid down the laundry chute after she put the sensible
white on. The green hung near the side of his face. Her
vagina lips were blood filled. She resisted a strong urge to rub her clit
with an index finger while Jack watched. She grabbed her glass from the
coffee table and took a gulp. Her mind burned with shame and the whorelike
feeling her husband had always produced to get her to cum.
"I was waiting for you to get back down here," Jack started. "I was
folding up the last of the laundry, when these practically fell on my
head." A small lie, but harmless, he told himself. "They landed on my
shoulder to be honest. I smelled something though, as they flew past my
face. Now what did I smell?"
Silence.
"What would I smell, if I held these to my nose?" Jack amended his
question.
Silence, then finally a whispered, "Me."
"You?!", Jack acted shocked. "You mean they're not Hyacinth's?"
Susan looked up, startled. Did he want Hyacinth? "No, they're mine."
"Why would you change your before you came down?"
"I--I...I wanted more...Motherly Panties!", Susan blurted, her
humiliation before her son complete.
"Oh, I see," Jack said softly, hardly knowing where to go with this
thread.
Inspiration.
"So I would smell your pussy, if I held these to my nose?", Jack
queried.
"Yes," almost a whisper.
"Would I smell lust?"
Silence under the interrogation. Then, "Yes."
"Do you feel like a slut?"
"Yes."
"Like a whore?"
"Yes."
Jack's cock was throbbing hard against his stomach. He felt like
rubbing up against the bar until he came. Mustn't lose control, he
thought. Had to get moving.
Jack came around the bar to sit at the easychair, to his Mother's left.
His seat within three feet of her on the couch. Her legs still spread
obscenely to give him a view of her white pantied crotch.
"Rub yourself," Jack whispered. He tossed the green onto
Susan's lap. She flinched as they landed with the inside crotch facing up
at her.
Susan moaned at the Jack's words. She slid her right index finger down
to the bottom of her white triangle and slowly rubbed her insistent
clitoris. The lips of her gaped slightly. She was lubricating.
"The key to your footlocker--is it still taped to the bottom of your
jewelry box?" Jack asked softly.
"Yes," his whispered, looking at his face now.
"You stay here playing with yourself. Don't take your off and
don't cum. Understand?"
Susan nodded. She wanted to wait until he was gone, then strip her
panties off and drive two fingers into her quim until she exploded. The
urge was overpowering, but she needed to know what would happen next.
Jack turned and headed upstairs. He almost broke into a trot, catching
himself at the last moment. That wouldn't look too good. Jack didn't want
to seem like an overexcited virgin, which basically he was.
Jack headed into his mother's room, and with shaking hands, pulled the
taped key off the bottom of the jewelry box. He went to the closet and
slid the door open. There it lay. An army footlocker padlocked shut.
The box held the paraphernalia of Susan's life with Jack's father,
Sterling Hornher. An veritable armory of dildoes, vibrators, lingerie,
bondage regalia, crops, ropes. One hardly knew where to start. Jack had
sifted through this gear years ago--he had found the key--and he basically
knew what each item did. The Internet had taught him that much.
Jack opened the footlocker. His aim for tonight was simple. None of
that bondage stuff--it took too long. No, better to go with the mental
dominance and humiliation his took so well to. Time later on for
the extended bouts of bondage. Jack selected a black lingerie outfit. He
suspected that it was and by now, too small. All the better. He
selected a large realistic flesh colored vibrator. How the hell could
anyone take that comfortably?, he wondered. Ah, well--it wasn't for him to
say... Selecting a plastic bottle of Sex Grease, he shut the footlocker
and headed back into the basement, fearful that something might have
happened to change his Mother's mind. He had a vision of her
metamorphosing into her 38 year Soccer persona with a comfortable,
white Sears robe pulled tight around her and big pink mules on her feet.
On the way back, he grabbed a brown blanket from the hallway closet,
then headed down the stairs. He walked as quickly as he deemed dignified
back down into the basement.
His mother, Susan Hornher, was just as he had left her.
Susan had waited vacantly for Jack's return, committed now to be
humiliated into an act of sexual perversion with her son.y She had toyed
steadily with her clitoris, keeping a steady level of arousal without going
over the top to a full blown orgasm. Even Jack's entrance back into the
basement humiliated her and sent a charge through her vagina. Jack was
carrying a blanket, which he had draped over his right hand. Susan paused
her self-ministration, her legs still spread to accommodate his view. Jack
seated himself back behind the bar, farther away than the armchair at her
side. He regarded her intently.
"You ready?", Jack said quietly. Susan's mouth was dry with a
quasi-fear of having to perform in front of him. "Yes," she finally
whispered.
"Unclasp your skirt, and leave it on the couch. Walk to me, I have
something else for you to put on," Jack commanded breathlessly, his cock
resurgent.
Susan digested his instruction, then reached to her right side and
unclasped the skirt from her waist. The garment went loose and Susan's
waist felt free and unencumbered. Did she dare stand up, letting the skirt
fall away and exposing her to Jack? She stood up carefully and
caught the skirt, as it fell away. She couldn't look at her son to gauge
his reaction. Her panty-clad thighs and hips were now exposed to him.
Jack watched his as she stood, almost swaying as she stood up,
catching her skirt and placing it next to her on the couch. She staggered
a bit as she walked, and he noticed that she had finished the second drink
he had fixed her. She approached him, eyes downcast, face flushed. Jack
drank in the sight of the perfectly wide hips and thighs of an woman.
Nice.
Jack pulled out the black lingerie and presented it to her. Susan's
head came up to view the garment, and she faltered. The black open cup bra
and crotchless panties. Damn.
"Jackie, that doesn't fit your anymore. That's from years ago."
I can't wear that," she explained.
"Well, I kind of suspected that when I selected them. I think that most
men like to see what's inside these things, but I'd like to see what
is hanging out. So, put it on anyway." Jack's tone brooked no argument.
Susan froze for a few moments, and Jack expected resistance. When she
held out her hand for the garments he was gratified. She walked back to
her place, her full white ass undulating beneath her panties. She turned
to face him and froze again, not daring to catch his eyes as they devoured
her form.
"Too embarrassed?", Jack asked
Susan nodded her head, looking at the lingerie. This stuff was
than Jack was. It wouldn't fit--it would look grotesque on her. She was
thirty pounds heavier than the slim woman she had been 17 years ago.
It was even possible that Jack had been conceived while she was wearing
this garb. Sterling Hornher hadn't been so perverse then...
"Then, I'll make it easier for you," Jack announced, coming around the
bar. "Sit down". Susan sat, once again putting her legs together, trying
to protect her pubic area from view. Jack covered her with the blanket,
from feet to shoulders. Then he sat down in the armchair at her side.
"Now, change outfits under the blanket. First your blouse. Then your
bra. Then your panties. Put each item in my hand when you're through with
it. Then put the lingerie on, the bra first; the second. Go..."
Susan felt the thrill of submission course through her. She knew that
when she pulled her off, she would be able to smell her
arousal--she was that wet. She yearned to just lie back and to
an orgasm to take the edge off. "Go," Jack repeated intensely.
Susan unbuttoned her blouse under the blanket, top to bottom, slowly.
"Look at me," Jack commanded hoarsely. She raised her eyes to his, her
gaze wavering at Jack's dark eyes, and past him, then back again as she
dared. She gently eased her shoulders out of the garment until it was free
of her body. She moaned quietly. Jack watched as her right hand snaked
out from under the blanket. It contained her blouse, which she deposited
into his waiting hand. She stared into his eyes; her pupils dilated and
glassy. Jack watched the hand return. She now held the blanket under her
chin as she performed the intricate maneuver required to remove her
brassiere. Sliding her arms out from the straps, Susan twisted the bra
hooks from her back to her right side, unfastening the bra, and pulling it
free of her body. Her breasts--34c after Jack had been born, sagged
slightly to rest on her chest, free of their encumberment. Once again, her
hand snaked out to provide Jack with her intimate apparel. Jack received
his Mother's bra with as much reverence as if the Pope had just handed him
his sacredly funny hat. Jack could feel the warmth left in the cups. He
brought the cups to his nose and inhaled. They smelled of femininity;
close, comfortable femininity. Susan had stopped moving, feeling the
material of the blanket rubbing against her breasts, concentrating on the
feeling of her covered nakedness before the eyes of her son. She gave an
audible gasp as she watched him smell her everyday bra. Her was oh
so ready.
"And now the 'piece de resistance', Jack leaned far forward and
whispered into her ear. His warm breath in her ear sent flutters through
her.
Susan raised her bottom off the couch and tugged her white down,
loosing first one leg; then the other. She sat back naked under the
blanket; the couch cushion feeling deliciously strange to her naked
backside; holding her in her hand. She handed them out to Jack,
who accepted them without action or comment. She already had the lingerie
under the blanket with her.
Jack watched as his Mother, under the blanket, identified and oriented
the lacy black open bra of the lingerie set. To his eyes, she appeared to
reverse the bra doffing procedure, clasping the bra on the side, rotating
it behind her, then putting her arms in. To gauge the consternation on her
face, the bra was too small for her beautifully sagged tits.
Susan fastened the bra on her side. There hadn't been any lycra all
those years ago, but thank God for elastic, she thought. Her poked
through the opening front of the bra, presenting a wide expanse of the
front of her and nipples to view. Strangely enough, the bra cups
seemed perfect for her, it was just the straps that were too tight. These
cups must have been too big before, she mused. Now for the panties.
She located the by feel. She reached down, still holding her
safety blanket between her neck and chin, and placed her feet into them.
Tugging them up her legs to her thighs, she felt the elastic already
working. At the top of her womanish thighs, the stopped, unwilling
to go farther without a struggle. Susan lifted her butt off the couch
cushion and tugged harder. The slid up the last inclines of her
thighs and nestled tightly into her crotch. Ooh, they were tight, the
elastic at her hips straining indignantly. These didn't fit by a long
shot. She was completely embarrassed now. She settled back into the couch,
using her hands to reposition the blanket to shield her. She was
degradingly thrilled by his demands, and the lingerie which had fit her
best as a slim, 17 years ago.
Jack's cock throbbed hotly against his stomach, still confined by his
shorts and underwear. It was time. It definitely was time.
"Now Mom, I know you're a little embarrassed sitting there under that
blanket. Am I right?"
"Yes," Susan breathed, watching him, not knowing what could come next.
"So, to help you get over the embarrassment of showing me your charms,
I'm gonna show you mine." With that, Jack rose and in one movement, pulled
his shorts and underwear off, kicking them to the floor. He stood there
near his Mother, displaying. Susan stared at him wide-eyed. He was
beautifully formed, his strong, lightly haired legs, his slim hips. His
cock. Jutting at the impossibly vertical angle only a can
manage. His cock touching his belly-button. His testicles adorned with
fuzzy hair. Jack did a pirouette for her benefit. "How do I
look?", he asked gaily. Susan was speechless, watching his penis cut the
air as he turned. Oh my.
Jack stepped up to his Mother, his penis within a foot of her face. She
blushed anew, her eyes glued to his manhood as if it were a cobra that
could strike her at any moment. Her index finger slid back down to her
clitoris, and she gave it a few strokes. Electricity.
Jack stepped in the last foot and bent his penis down. His cock lay at
her right cheek alongside her nose. It burned hotly there. "How do I
feel?", Jack demanded. Susan answered immediately, "Warm." Jack was
elated; this was working well. He moved his penis just under his nose.
"Do I smell okay?", he asked. "y..yes..", his answered, beginning
to stroke her clitoris furiously, nearing the peak. The movement did not
go unnoticed by Jack. He turned away from her, and she moaned, frustrated.
"How does my butt look?", he demanded.
"uh,uh...nice", his answered weakly, knowing now what was coming
next.
Jack backed up within her spread legs, careful not to trip on the
blanket that covered her. His cheeks were within two feet of Susan's face.
Jack spread his cheeks with his hands, his anus and testicles exposed.
"How do I smell?, he asked nastily. "good," his cried, not moving.
"You'll have to get closer than that," Jack warned her good-naturedly. He
felt an overpowering urge to stroke himself, but he didn't want his
to see him masturbating--it might make her wonder how often he committed
that particular sin. He waited for a few seconds, which felt like an
eternity. Then he felt her nose nestle between his spread cheeks as she
inhaled. Not just one breath either, he thought giddily. She's going all
the way. "Well?", he demanded. "ooh...good...good", his breathed.
The sight of his hairless anus and the dangling testicles in her face
excited her. His demand humiliated her as she leaned in and smelled his
ass. It was demeaning. Her gave a spasm and she came as she smelled
him. Her contracted strongly again and again, trailing off into a
series of aftershocks. Jack looked back over his shoulder at his Mother's
closed eyes. He realized she was having an orgasm. He waited until she
seemed through. Her eyes opened. Jack stepped away and pulled off his
shirt. He was completely naked in front of her. He dropped down casually
into the armchair. "Well, was that good for you, Mom?", he asked boldly.
Susan felt helpless and weak after her orgasm. She knew he would want
her body displayed before him next. She felt her stage fright rising.
"Yes, it was good," she offered meekly.
"You came?"
"Yes," was her quiet response.
"You came, sniffing my butt?"
Silence.
"That's pretty wild, Mom. But I'm glad I could help you out," Jack said
causally. "Now it's your turn--I'm sitting here all naked--now it's your
turn," he repeated.
Susan felt like a dirtygirl slut at a bachelor party of one. Exposing
herself, in heat. She was frozen. Her gaped open, wet and thrilled
by what it was hearing. It was ready to go, but she was panicked.
"Would you like to lick my ass while I come on your breasts?", Jack
asked innocently, "or would you like to stand up right now and show me what
you've got?"
Susan blanched at the her vision of his first suggestion and made her
decision. She struggled to her feet clinging to the blanket as she arose.
Then, turning his way and facing him, she tossed the blanket down on the
couch; closing her eyes in shame, she stood swaying in front of him, her
lingerie clad body on display for his pleasure.
Jack sat in wonder at the spectacle of his Mother, clothed in lingerie
and presenting herself to him. Her big hips ensnared by the too tight
crotchless panties. Her pubic mound trimmed close, the top of her vaginal
lips visible. Mother's tummy, lines etched in reddened bands,
small marks from her only pregnancy; stomach pooched out slightly
with the weight most adult women don't ever lose. Blue veined
propped up in the open cups of the bra, large dark pink aureoles, with
darker nipples; held up only by the work of the bra. Full hips and
sturdy thighs. Jack was speechless staring at his 38 year humiliated
Mother's charms.
Susan swayed, eyes tightly shut for endless seconds waiting to Jack to
do something. When his hands grabbed her hips and gently pulled her
forward, she gasped. "Turn around," Jack whispered urgently.
Susan turned, presenting her backside to him. Jack stared at the white
moons of her ass. "Bend over," Jack ordered. Susan complied, bending at
her waist, spreading her stance, and opening her eyes to help keep her
balanced and oriented. Jack's hands parted her cheeks, and she knew he was
inspecting her anus and vagina. Jack stared at her Mother's private
orifices, each capable of pleasuring him. It was time. It was the time to
climb.
"Take off the outfit and lay down on the couch," Jack whispered to her.
Susan straightened up in alarm. Jack brushed by her, out of his chair,
heading behind the bar. He grabbed the large vibrator and headed back.
Susan, watching Jack's penis bouncing stiffly as he returned, unclasped her
bra and slid her arms out. Tossing it to the couch, she tucked her fingers
under the tight waistband of the black and arduously tugged them
down until they slid to her feet. She was totally naked now, blushing in
shame at having exposed herself at her son's command.
Jack wasted no time. Almost colliding with his Mother, he brought her
down onto the couch. He tossed the vibrator to the carpet. Spreading her
heavy legs, he buried his face into her vagina, almost recoiling from his
first encounter with the intense smell of his aroused Mother's genitalia.
Wow! It was like the had smelled, only fresher and alive. Jack
buried his tongue into her warm cavern, brushing his nose against her
clitoris. She moaned! She thrust upwards against his face! Success and
the smell made Jack giddy. His face glistened with his Mother's
juices.
Susan, the breath nearly knocked out of her by Jack's impetus in placing
her on the couch, felt his hands push her legs open. Then his face buried
itself in her crotch. She knew she was wet down there from the excitement.
Jack burrowed his tongue into her and she moaned. His nose rubbed her
clit as he ate her out. She went over the brink immediately, sliding down
into a series of small, fluttering, orgasms.
Jack began to lick her mothers from top to bottom, starting with
her anus and working up to her clitoris. He'd seen enough on the
computer to understand what he was supposed to be doing, and he did just
that. After the eighth wet tongue swipe, he moistened his index finger and
pressed it against her defenseless anus. He worked the finger into the
knuckle. His Mother's anus clenched and released repeatedly before he
realized she was cumming.
Susan grunted as she felt his index finger worm it's way into her
bottom. She was having a small series of orgasms as her son licked her.
She felt so slutty and whorish. All of the sudden, his face left her.
Jack raised up from his first-ever licking, his face besmirched
with his Mother's secretions. He pulled Mom's legs up and lined up his
penis with her sheath. He had to bend his stiff penis down to even attempt
the connection. The damn thing kept missing the entrance to her. Then he
aimed lower and sank his cock right up to the hilt in his Mother's pussy.
Heaven. Warm, enveloping, moist heaven. Jack was afraid to even move
for fear he'd come before his first stroke. He looked into her Mother's
eyes.
Susan felt the fear and panic coming when he pulled her legs apart and
moved over her. She felt his penis bang against the outer gates--too high
she knew. She hadn't wanted him in her at all. It was her way of
keeping at least a semblance of dignity, taking him only in her hand,
mouth, or ass, (if he demanded it). This was too intimate, too close, too
wrong. Before she could summon her small reserve ofcourage to speak out,
Jack speared her. Speared her good. His cock surged into her wet maw, the
head glancing off her cervix. She groaned in despair. Thank God, she was
still on birth control, she thought. He rested inside her, and she sneaked
a glance at his face. He was watching her reaction. Susan blanched and
closed her eyes.
"Don't come in there," Susan whispered, almost in tears.
"Okay," Jack promised. He took the opportunity to grasp her beautiful
sagging breasts. He licked her aureoles and nipples, eliciting soft moans
from Susan. He squeezed them, like any would.
Jack had one more thing to try before he started moving inside his
Mother. His cock was almost painful, at the trigger edge of shooting off.
He didn't want to come without even a stroke in that delightfully warm
envelope. Jack lay more of his weight atop his mother. He pressed his
face and lips against hers. "Kiss me," Jack demanded.
Susan was shocked. This was not sex for release of tension. This was
personal sex. Between and Son. "No," she whispered fiercely.
"Kiss me, you beautiful slut," Jack demanded again.
Susan's insides fluttered at the word. Slutlike was how she felt with
Jack atop her, inserted into her vagina. Almost unconsciously, she began
to move slightly under him. Jack felt her moving on his cock. He
pressed his tongue into her mouth, and she opened her mouth to receive his
savage French kiss. Susan could smell her juice--his face was still
wet--and she tasted the slightest tang of herself on his tongue. She
started to come in her big orgasm.
Jack knew he was at the end. His mother's responses would have done him
in anyway. He started to fuck her, his cock driving into her with force.
Susan felt his penis rub her cervix on every stroke. He was in her deep.
Jack pulled his cock out of his as he felt his orgasm wash over
him. His penis exploded on her chest and stomach. Susan opened her eyes,
gasping as his warm semen landed on her. Jack jettisoned his load, his
shots hitting between her breasts, and on her comfortable stomach. He
filled her bellybutton with his spend, and finished himself by rubbing the
underside of his cock along her pubis, luxuriating in the feel of the
prickly feeling of her short hairs. His cock spasmed emptily and his
prostate contracted almost painfully. Susan heard his moans as he spent
himself on her and she felt guiltily happy in the knowledge that someone,
even her son, could still find happiness by being with her. God knows, his
father hadn't felt the need to touch her for the last year of their
marriage. It had made her feel unattractive.
"Let me up," Susan said, already looking for something to swab Jack's
sperm off her body with. Jack's mind was still reeling from the
feeling--his first time in a woman's vagina--and he absently pulled off
her. Susan picked up the off the floor and gently cleaned her skin,
paying special attention to her cum-filled bellybutton. She made as if to
get up off the couch.
"Not yet," Jack said quietly.
"What do you mean?", Susan asked confused.
"One more time," Jack said.
"One more time?", Susan echoed, dazed.
"We'll do it one more time, then go to bed," Jack announced quietly.
"Oh", his answered, thinking of an argument. She was getting
chilled now after her exercise. She pulled the blanket around her and sat
back, the soiled she had cleaned herself with laying next to her.
Under the blanket, she could smell Jack's semen wafting up to her nostrils.
Vaguely excited, she waited. Sterling Hornher had almost never gone with
her a second time, and she was unused to the feeling of being only half
finished.
Jack fixed fresh drinks for both of them and brought hers to her, like a
gentleman. He sat back down in the armchair and sipped reflectively.
Susan felt his eyes resting on her outline under the blanket.
"I love your body," Jack stated, feeling something needed to be said.
"My body is and saggy now, Jack. You should have seen me before you
were born," Susan said, embarrassed. She pulled the blanket tighter over
her nakedness.
"Your body is perfect Mom, and your attitude is great. I appreciate you
going along with the game plan like you did. It makes it easier," Jack
said honestly.
"Jack, this isn't necessarily right--what we're doing--you know that
don't you?", Susan blurted suddenly.
"I know that," Jack said earnestly. "I think I know that better than
you do. I know that you're down from being divorced and all. Well, I'm
down too, moving like we did--I don't have any friends here--and what we're
doing is just releasing some tension. Right now we're all we got. I
realize things could change and this would be all over."
"That's right, Jackie," Susan said, with a gush of relief. "I could
start dating again, or you could find a around here. And this--these
things we're doing--would be over. For good. Right?", she was almost
pleading for his understanding.
"Yes, I understand that perfectly, Mom," Jack promised. "That's partly
what makes it exciting for me. Not knowing what's going to happen, or even
if anything is going to happen."
"What else do you like about it?", Susan asked, openly embarrassed, but
interested, hoping her son would compliment her more--I need some more
positive reinforcement, she thought guiltily.
"I like that you don't reject me--everything I want you to do, you do,"
Jack said simply.
"Like I'm your personal whore?", Susan questioned. Jack's eyes flicked
over to hers, she looked away, blushing. There hadn't been any intonation
in her question, and Jack was afraid of saying the wrong thing.
"I guess every needs a whore", Jack said, tentatively. "Someone to
go along with the game and not treat him like he was weird or perverted,"
he finished lamely.
"How about if the woman likes the humiliation of being asked or told to
do those 'weird or perverted' things?", Susan's voice was barely audible.
"Then it's even better," Jack said convinced. "If you're willing to let
me run the show--if you're willing to do what I want--and it helps you with
your orgasms, then I'm more than willing to help out, because you're doing
more for yourself then I'm doing for you, and I appreciate that--I really
do," Jack stated, absolutely certain that what he had just said made no
sense.
"Then if we agree that this could end at any time--for good--then we
agree that it's possible that we could occasionally help each other out?",
Susan needed an agreement defining their future. She waited for his
response, watching him closely.
"Only if we agree also that these little sessions don't have to be on
week-end nights when you come home. That they could happen before
breakfast, or after school--when school starts up, of course--or just
anytime one of us really wants it," Jack negotiated.
"Okay," his assented.
"And you will come to me when you're in the mood?", Jack said somewhat
suspiciously. It won't always be me coming to you?", he demanded,
conscious of the control issue at stake there.
"Okay," Susan answered quietly. This was going to be different.
"Tell me why you like the humiliation thing," Jack was curious.
Susan flushed. "Because I'm a shy person, Jackie. I'm not given to
expressing myself. And I was raised in Church and good didn't do
those things. I was still naive when I got to your Father. He
wanted certain things I felt uncomfortable with. Somehow, the humiliation
he made me feel helped--I could divorce myself from the reality, I
guess--and I could have orgasms--just telling myself that I didn't really
want to do those things--that I was being forced to be a slut, a whore, a
dirtygirl. And I could tell myself I was just being a good wife. It was
important to me to be a good and mother", she ended lamely. "Now I'm
not sure I'm even a good anymore."
"You're a good person," Jack answered, "the nicest person I've ever
known."
"Thanks," Susan said unconvinced. She finished her drink and reflected
on how intoxicated she was feeling. She wasn't sure she wanted another
round with Jack.
Jack realized that it was time to get the ball rolling. He wanted anal
sex with his Mother, and the alcohol, which had helped her lose her
inhibitions, was also depressing her.
"If you weren't a nice person, would you blush when I told you to turn
around on all fours and pull the blanket off your ass?", Jack whispered.
Susan felt the hot flush of shame start up again at his words. The skin on
her stomach, with it's lavage of dried semen, felt tight.
"What?", Susan asked helplessly.
"You heard me," Jack whispered. "Show me your ass."
Susan put her glass down, then gathering her resolve, turned on the
couch with her face in the back cushion. Her legs, tucked under her,
dangled halfway off the couch. With her left hand, she pulled the blanket
up her legs onto her back, exposing her bottom to Jack's gaze. She felt a
stirring in her clitoris. Maybe she could again, she mused.
Jack stood up, his penis turgid, not as hard as the first time, but
stiff enough to penetrate. It was definitely up for this new experience.
Susan's position partly spread her buttocks for Jack. He could see the
brown/pink rose of her anus staring at him. Not willing to lick his
Mother's bunghole at this point--it seemed to look uncomfortable exposed
like it was--Jack retreated to the bar and retrieved the Sex Grease.
Returning to his Mother's backside, Jack oozed some lube out of the bottle
onto his right index finger. The white palette of her bottom, with the
brown center beckoned to him. Jack stuck his finger into the canvas. He
thought rudely of the part in the Little Jack Horner rhyme where he "stuck
in his thumb", but now was not a time for levity.
Susan had waited in position, her defenseless anus presented for
intrusion. Anal sex was her least favorite form of sex, although it was
high on the humiliation scale. It caused initial discomfort, and later a
bloated feeling. And Sterling Hornher had sometimes insisted on pulling
out of her bottom, and finishing himself in her mouth. She prayed Jack
hadn't thought of anything so nasty. Susan heard Jack squirt some
lubricant out of the bottle. Still she was unprepared for his cold finger,
which penetrated her fully. She moaned and her rectum tightened around the
intruder. She forced herself to relax. She also ducked a finger down
between her legs to play with her clitoris, which demanded to be included
in the activity.
Jack felt her reaction to his finger and he rested a moment to give her
a chance to accommodate his digit. When she was at peace, Jack slowly
fucked his finger into her bottom, circling and rotating around. Her
intestine was warm and amazingly tight. The inside flesh seemed different.
Jack pulled his stink finger out. He now lubed two fingers, index and
middle, and introduced the pair in tandem. His let out a small
groan. Jack noted that she was working her clitoris with her finger.
Could he go three fingers? He realized that he didn't want her loosened up
too much. He pulled his fingers out and wiped them on his cock. At least
there was nothing on them.
Jack picked up the vibrator from the coffee table and switched it on.
The vibrator, an experienced veteran, worked smoothly. Jack placed it
between her legs, near her clit. Susan took the toy from his hand and
placed in small circulation on her mound. She was as ready for his
invasion as she would be.
Jack stepped in and grasped her buttocks, separating them to gain visual
acquisition of his target. He placed the head of his penis at her anus and
pushed. The first three times, his penis slid off higher into her crack.
The fourth time was the charm, and he felt her star give and accept the
head of his member into her dark, tight asshole.
Susan gave a low groan as she felt the familiar, painful of her
immovable object losing the fight against his irresistible force. When his
cockhead popped inside, she gave a sigh of relief and they both rested a
moment. Then Jack resumed the attack, driving himself further and further
into her until she was impaled by his blunt flesh.
Jack rested, his cock buried in the tight cylinder of his Mother's
rectum, so warm and so nasty. It was everything he'd thought it would be.
His made a low keening sound as she worked the tip of the vibrator
over her clitoris. Jack made a mental note to come here again.
Susan felt Jack's cock retreat and forge anew into her stink passage.
It filled her completely and uncomfortably. Uncomfortable, but not
impossible. She felt Jack begin to saw in and out of her; felt the urge to
shit. Not too long, she hoped, don't be too long in there, Jackie...
Jack fuck his Mother's ass faster and faster, his slim hips slapping
against her full, white marbled bottom. He felt his rising, ready to
jump out. This felt nice. He drove forward to his orgasm, grunting each
time he slammed into her.
Susan felt her son suddenly stiffen as he pressed his cock into her.
He's cumming, she knew. Suddenly her ministrations on her clit took on the
pleasurable incline associated with her orgasm. Jack's grunts, as he
emptied his seed into her, were highly erotic to her. She could not feel
his ejaculate in her ass--she never could--but when he resumed slamming her
to finish himself off, she felt the friction against her inner walls
diminish, her anus lubed further now by his spend.
Jack stood, legs shaking, with his cock still sunk inside his Mother's
ass. Oh the feeling of coming inside that cavity. He was weak from the
pleasurable exertion. He pulled his soiled penis from Susan's ass. He
didn't know whether she was going to come or not, or whether he should help
her. He spread her cheeks, watching her gaping anus, besmirched with his
sperm. Her asshole looked swollen and reddened.
Susan gave a sigh when Jack pulled out of her. She was close now, so
close. She needed the extra push over the top. It came when Jack spread
her cheeks. She knew he was inspecting her butthole, gaping open, with his
spunk buried inside. What a nasty thought. With that, Susan came hard,
her and ass muscles clenching and releasing.
Jack witnessed his Mother's asshole spasm. What an erotic sight, he
thought. I came in there. In her guts. He watched her backhole close
suddenly and then wink brownly at him as she came. He stared until the
winking ceased. It was over.
Jack dropped back into the armchair exhausted, his spent penis lying
across his lap. Susan dropped the blanket down over her ass and turned
around to sit on the couch, careful that the blanket would catch her
dripping ass. This furniture was much too nice to get stains on.
"That was something else, Mom," Jack said tiredly. "That was really
cool."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Susan said, somewhat embarrassed, a tiny core
of her being slightly proud to know she could still provide a exciting time
for a man.
"If you want to go to bed, I'll clean up and turn off the lights." Jack
offered.
"I appreciate that--I'm going to take a shower and then head to bed,"
Susan answered, relieved that he didn't expect to sleep next to her in her
bedroom. She rose carefully, covered in the blanket and headed upstairs.
As she reached the stairs Jack called out to her.
"And we have the basics of an Agreement?"
"We do," she promised him. Then gathering herself emotionally, she
walked upstairs. Jack watched her blanketed form proudly. Looking down at
his spent penis, he thought about the windfall Mom's divorce had brought to
him. Life was definitely going to get more interesting...