Caught III

After reading the comments I saw that a few people were bothered by the fact that Mom was such a bitch, or the fact that I just kept pointing it out so much. The fact is; I felt that it was important to stress that side of his mother. I thought it would make her…surrender…that much more of a triumph for Bobby; more of a conquest. And {As it seems} a relief for the reader. Either way…I hope the end of this chapter allows all of us to ride together in the same car.

Also…In chapter two, someone pointed out that mom had her panties on at one point but there was no further mention of them as the story went on. Bobby just moved them aside like his mother did when she first started to masturbate…

I still haven’t gotten a handle on all the numbers and the question marks and other punctuations getting messed up throughout the story. I don’t know what to tell ya.

From chapter 2:
I couldn’t believe that after all this, the harshness had returned. I smiled and tucked my wet dick back into my shorts. Nothing she could say now could ruin my mood.
Then Mom did something else that shocked me. She slid off the hood of the car and dropped down to her knees in front of me again. She pulled me to her by the front of my shorts.
“You’ll probably want to do some more sick shit to me after your Dad leaves for the Golf Course tomorrow, Won’t you?”
She griped as she exposed my tired, sticky dick. She glided the tip of one finger down its slimy length as it hung semi-soft in front of her. She twirled her finger around the sloppy head a few times then rubbed her thumb and finger together. She looked like she was in deep thought as she watched her fingers sliding back and forth together.
“Something depraved …Like fuck me on the kitchen table or cum on my face, I bet. . .” She hissed, staring at my prick the entire time she bitched.
She wrapped her fingers around my wet, semi-hard dick and pulled at it roughly, angrily, stretching it. It didn’t really hurt but her attitude kinda caught me by surprise.
“This is incest…” She reminds me. “You’re sick…” She growled as she took me in her mouth again. I leaned back on the hood of the car and let her suck my dick clean.

Chapter 3:

I woke up pretty early considering how late I got to bed the night before. Already my head was spinning with the memories of yesterday and the prospects yet to come. To be honest with you, I thought that maybe all of yesterday might have just been a dream.

I smelled coffee. I checked the clock; 7:20. I was sure my Dad had showered and eaten breakfast by 7:00. With little doubt, he’d already grabbed his clubs and was on his way to the golf course to hit little balls with funny little sticks.
I couldn’t help but wonder what the day might bring. Maybe HOPE would be a better word. I assumed my Mom was awake and was pretty curious to see what her reaction might be to the night before.

I couldn’t see why we just couldn’t enjoy our new-found………relationship. I mean, she’d made her point. She wanted me to “know” that she was totally against such immoral and deviant activities …Fine. She wanted me to “know” that she was not a willing participant; she was being “forced” to participate in this disgusting incestuous liaison…Fine. If pushing the blame off on me helped her do that―Then fine. I could live with that. No problem. I just wanted to do more stuff with my mom. It seemed pretty simple to me. I’m sure that was my dick thinking for me but sometimes my dick had quite a head on its shoulder.

I realize that I was only 17, but I’d never experienced anything like the rush; the bold-face, undeniable shiver of excitement that shot through me when my mother gave in to the lust. There are no words. You could have dipped my balls in gasoline and lit them on fire for all I cared……as long as she was the one rubbing the Neosporin on them when all was said and done.

She had put up a good front and I was hoping we could get past all the bullshit now and just enjoy the moment…or moments; lots and lots of moments. Of course, the BOX being Giant Stadium and the MOMENTS being the lint I pick out of my belly-button.

I threw a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt on and headed down stairs to put a toe in the water so-to-speak. I truly hoped she was in a good mood.
I was both shocked and delighted as I walked into the kitchen. Mom was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and the morning paper. She looked like she was ready to have her picture taken for the cover of Cosmo… …or make a porn movie.

My first thought was, “Fuckin’ ‘A’, she’s as happy about this whole thing as I am and Dad’s out tying to play golf.
She looked like she’d gotten up this morning ready to play the part; ready to play the hot mom that gives in to her desires―The stunning MILF waiting for the unsuspecting pizza guy― There was gunna be no bullshit this time and I can’t tell you how happy I was. My dick squirmed his approval.

Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, tied with a long, thin, red ribbon. She had her glasses on but I could see that her eye make-up was much darker then last night; much darker than it usually is. Her lashes were long and thick with mascara. Her full lips were the color of the ribbon that held her hair back. She had a like blue house dress on that, for some reason, kinda reminded me of Leave It to Beaver’s mom except as I remember, Beaver’s mom never showed much tit on that show. Mom had unbuttoned the first two buttons at the top of her dress, allowing a beautiful view of her cleavage and the fleshy roundness of her large tits; enough so that it was clear she had no bra on. If that wasn’t enough, I could see the outline of her nipples as they clearly pushed on the relatively thin material of the dress. {Something else I believe June Cleaver never showed.}

Her dress was pretty short, five or six inches above her knee, showing a great deal of leg. Her legs were long and smooth. My eyes followed them all the way down under the table to her feet. She was bare footed and her toenails were painted the same color as her beautiful lips. It was clear she’d spent some time this morning getting ready…But ready for what?
I was trying desperately not to get hard. I wanted to be a little cooler than that. I wanted to at least appear like I had some self-control. Although I guess my performance yesterday on the couch might have distorted that conception somewhat.

“Morning,” I said lightly as I made my way to the cupboard for a glass.
She looked up from her paper, scrutinizing me silently for a few long seconds,
“Morning.” She replied rather coldly and returned to her paper.
I felt the temperature drop 10°. Perhaps I’d misjudged the weather a bit. It felt like there was a good chance of squalls up ahead. I suppose her memories of yesterday were not quite as fond as mine.
I poured a glass of juice and sat down cautiously at the table across for her. I felt like I was sitting my bare ass down on a hand grenade wondering how I was gunna clean up this mess if it went off. For a second I wondered if that was the kinda mess that could even BE cleaned up.

“Going somewhere this morning?” I asked her as peaceably as possible.
“Ummm…” She didn’t appear to be in a talkative mood.
“Why?” She added without looking up from her paper.
“I don’t know, you just look like you’re ready to go somewhere.”

She looked up from her paper, tilted her head down slightly, and looked at me over the frames of her glasses.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” She asked.
“Wow!” I thought.
“Nothing.” I told her defensively. “It’s just . . . the way you look.”
“The way I… LOOK?
“Well, yeah…I mean….”
She let the paper drop on the table and focused her full attention on me. I shut up, swallowed hard and shifted my weight around on that hand grenade.
“And how, exactly, do I… ‘LOOK ?

I guessed we weren’t finished with the bullshit after all. I somehow felt that maybe she should be reading a copy of, I’m OK You’re OK or Sybil or maybe something on the terrors of PMS, instead of the morning paper. Maybe a couple of pamphlets on anger management would be nice.

{On a side-bar: Mom isn’t like this with just me, she gives Dad his appropriate share of bitching when needed. Evidently, I was getting the lion’s share. She wasn’t always like this. I’m not sure what happened to spawn this version of my mom but I remember a time when she was relatively pleasant and caring most of the time. I think I was in the fifth or sixth grade…}

“Well, you look really…” She stared me down “…Really great like that. I just figured you were going out, that’s all.” I told her but I was pretty sure she wasn’t planning on going out like that…I mean unless there was a Pornography convention going on in town that I didn’t know about. Maybe the advocates for legalizing prostitution were having a rally I was unaware of.

“I look ‘great’ like THAT?” She repeated. “What do you mean― ‘LIKE THAT’? Like WHAT Robert?”

I wasn’t sure what to say. Where was all this hostility coming from? Jesus, I thought. I get caught ONE TIME jerking off on the living-room couch and shit hits the fan. You would have thought I’d got caught jumping up and down on her bed with dog shit on my shoes. For fuck sake! I didn’t know what her problem was and it was starting to get tiresome. She was quickly snatching away my good morning.

“Is there something wrong with the way I look?” She questioned me.
What was I gunna say to that? Even if there was something wrong with the way she looked {And there wasn’t} I’d have to be brain dead {Or maybe Larry The Cable Guy} to even mention it.
“No, no Mom, not at all. I just mean you look really pretty, beautiful as a matter-of-fact , you know. . .Hot? You’d really turn heads walking down the street.”
“Walking down the street?”
“Like a whore? You think I look like a whore!?!” She asked angrily. “Is that what you’re trying to say Robert? Is THAT what you think of me now? You think your mother is a WHORE?” She stared at me waiting for an answer.

I felt like the fat little kid that just got caught eating everybody’s lunch.

“No! No! Of course not…No…” I was floundering; already looking for the closest exit. “… I mean you look like a…a…a movie star or something.” I tried to explain as best I could as I wondered how the fuck the conversation had gone from Good-morning to “I think you’re a whore.”

“Oh…” She paused.
I took a breath while she rubbed her pretty lips together.
“Like the star of one of those movies you like to watch in my living room, is that what kind of movie star you mean?” She snipped and stared at me with her pretty blue eyes.

If I’d seen this mood-swing coming…I could have ducked.

The truth was that Mom looked as hot as any centerfold I’d ever seen. My mind wandered for a moment. I pictured my Mom in the pages of Playboy and under the first picture―

Kat― A forty three year old Para-Legal from New Jersey.
Her turn offs are working, cleaning the house and the sound of laughter.
Her turn ons are Sports cars, Bitching, Incest porn and fucking young boys…

“Well, is that what you think of me now?” She asked, taking a sip of her coffee; the white cup a profound contrast to her red lips. I could see her lip prints on her cup as she set it down. I couldn’t get the picture of those lips around my cock out of my head. I watched her lick her lips. Yes, she did look like a whore; a beautiful, sexy, high dollar whore. She was Hot.

“No, no! I mean you look. . . . . .Great― I stupidly tried to lighten the mood― Like you might be going to some ‘Hot Moms Convention’ or a Hot Librarian contest or somethin’!”

“Robert. . .” She stared. “. . .Is that supposed to be amusing? After what you made me do last night, now you want to make jokes?”

“What I MADE her do.” I thought.

“I just think you look hot Mom, that’s all.” I told her honestly, with equal measures surrender and frustration. “I think you’re really pretty, that’s all, nothing between the lines, no hidden meanings.”
“Is that so?” She asked staring over her glasses.
I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head, “Yeah, that’s so. . .
. . . sorry.”

She had really taken the wind out of my sails.

“Dad leave?” I asked knowing full well that he had.
“He has.” She told me. “Why, something you wanted to talk to him about?” Her tone was cold and snotty but her eyes were filled with concern.

She kinda pissed me off. She had obviously made an effort to look good this morning. Not GOOD……but SEXY. And she did! She looked great! I couldn’t figure her out. I felt like she was just “Sticking it to me”. Was she actually going to stick with this “You made me do it” bullshit? Did she really think I was that stupid? I’m 17 not 5. It was kinda insulting.
I made a mental note to make it a point to find out what had turned my mom into such a bitter person.

“Yeah.” I told her with a little attitude of my own, ready to play her little game.
“Listen Robert…” Her tone had changed somewhat. She sipped her coffee again; she looked deep in thought, like maybe she was looking for just the right angle; the right approach.
“I know what’s going on here; what’s going on in that sick little mind of yours.” She tells me.

“You sure didn’t think it was too sick last night when you were sprawled all over the hood of Dad’s MG.” I thought to myself.

“And what’s that Mom?”
She took a long leisurely sip of her coffee then set the cup down on the table in front of her. Thick on the dramatics. She took off her glasses and laid them on the table next to it. She took a long look at the red lipstick on her cup, ran her delicate finger over it and them rubbed her finger and thumb together. She appeared to be lining up her ducks……Or just stalling for theatrical effect. She took her pinky and dabbed at the corners of her mouth then examined it. I assume looking for any traces of lipstick. She rubbed her lips together slowly to smooth them. The whole thing was very erotic.

I felt myself getting extremely warm. In spite of the fact that everything was going rather poorly in my option, my dick seemed to thing otherwise. It was kinda funny: Where I was barely treading water looking for someplace to put my feet… My dick was ready to jump head first, as-it-were, into the mucky water.

“Robert, I saw the kinds of movies you like to watch.” She shot me a quick look. I guess to catch my reaction. When I didn’t give her one, she went on.
“. . .‘Mothers’ doing things to their ‘Sons’. . .” She glanced over again then back down to her coffee cup; lightly dragging her finger through the lipstick stain again. “. . . ‘Sons . . . fucking there Mothers.” She stated as if she were disgusted; throwing a little more emphasis on the word FUCKING. Still I gave her no reaction.
“ . . .Incest Robert. . . .” She whispered as she looked up at me as if to see if I understood the meaning of the word.

I like Babysitter movies too but didn’t think it was such a good idea to mention it at the moment.
“. . .And I know that you were looking at ME yesterday when your little dick got hard again, NOT the movie.” She tells me with this judgmental look on her face and a hint of pride in her eyes.
What? Did she forget I was there too?
She was right about me though; I was looking at her.

And what’s with the “Little dick?” bullshit? I thought that was kinda harsh. I mean, maybe I couldn’t knock the bottom out of that thing last night but I thought I at least gave the sides a good talking to.

“So now that you’ve got me under a barrow, so-to-speak. . .”
“Under a barrow?” I protested from across the table unable to take anymore.
“That’s right Robert. Now…because of something that. . . . . . something that you wouldn’t understand. . . . . .a brief lapse in judgment that you, yourself facilitated. . .”
“That’s right! Because of that movie, the movie that YOU brought into MY house. . . . . .I’m now held hostage in my own home. . .”

Jesus, was this shit getting’ deep, or what?

“I know full well what incest could do to this family. . . . . . I had no choice last night but to submit to your dirty blackmail. Now I have to be subjected to your depraved, immoral behavior in order to. . . . to. . . . keep this family from imploding.”

I was amazed. Talk about your distorted view. I actually found myself concerned about her mental health and quietly hoped that whatever it was she had…… skipped a generation.

“Really. . . . . .Imploding? That’s the way you see it huh?”
“Certainly. . . So get on with it.”
“With what?” I asked, a bit disgusted myself now.
“With whatever filthy things you’re planning to blackmail me into doing this morning to keep your father from knowing about all this?”

I’d had just about enough. She was obviously going to push this whole thing off on me; like I was a sick fuck that held a gun to her head when she grabbed my dick on the couch. I wanted to ask her, if I was blackmailing her into doing all these depraved, immoral things, then why had she fixed herself up like a whore this morning? Had I made her do that too? But I could feel the pin to that grenade rubbing up against my asshole so I held my tongue.

She looked into my eyes like she was trying to read my thoughts; see if I was falling for this bullshit I guess. I didn’t waver. I stared right back at her and sipped my juice.
It was hard not to stare at her. In-spite of all the bullshit, she was so alluring. And even though she was playing the victim and trying to look all pissed off, she still looked super-hot.
We held each other’s gaze until she finally looked down at her coffee. I considered that a small victory and that gave me an idea.

“I’m not gunna make you do anything.” I answered in an even, smooth tone.
For just a second, she looked surprised then her brow furrowed and her surprise turned to suspicion. She certainly wasn’t expecting that.
“Mom. . .” I drank the last of my juice, gave her one last glare as I stood,
“I got some stuff to do.” I told her, making no attempt to hide the fact that I was annoyed and tired of the bullshit.
I walked quietly back upstairs to my room and waited to see what her next move would be. I thought I was holding a pretty good hand here but it was hard to know what cards Mom had up her sleeve.

I laid there on my bed and thought about how my Mom was acting. I wondered how she “…Knew full well what incest would do to this family.” I wondered if maybe that had something to do with her bitterness.
I thought about what had happened the day before and about how she was trying to push all the blame off on me. Why did there have to be any BLAME to divvy out?
I recalled how Mom had crawled up on Dad’s car and propped her ass up for me. I remembered how she’d pushed back into me and the intense orgasm she’d had. I could feel my dick getting hard.

It was blatantly obvious to me that Mom wanted to do those things and I think she wanted to keep doing them too. I believe she was just trying to justify these unnatural desires by telling herself, as well as me, that it wasn’t right and it wasn’t her fault. I was MAKING her do these things. And I believed she wanted me to MAKE her do more.

I lay there rubbing the bulge in my pants consoling my poor hard-on; trying to explain to it that we’d have to wait. We didn’t have to wait very long before I heard Mom’s light tap on my open bedroom door. I swung my feet over the edge of my bed and sat up.

“Am I interrupting?” She asked blatantly from the doorway as her eyes shot down to the bulge in my pants.
“Not really.” I told her as I stood up and deliberately adjusted my boner before walking over to the chair in front of my computer; the only chair in my room. I sat down.
I quickly noticed that another button on Mom’s dress was undone. I could see more of the fleshy ball of each breast now.
Mom walked in. She looked so good. She was a 9½ for sure and would have easily been a perfect ‘10’……A ten point something maybe, had she only smiled.
“Sit down.” I suggested. “What’s up?”

She glanced at the front of my pants again.
She fleetingly looked over at my bed then shot me a dirty look after realizing there was nowhere else to sit.
I smiled, hoping the gesture would show her that I knew what was going on. She walked over to the bed slowly, gracefully. She was so attractive and extremely desirable; a sexy but manipulating woman with a side order of schizophrenia.

The open “V” of her dress moved freely as she walked; the material barely hiding her nipples; allowing me the fleeting glimpse of each dark areola as she walked. Without a doubt she’d seen me looking. I’m sure she knew I would be. I made no attempt to hide it. She sat down, her feet together and her knees touching one another. Her hands were properly placed in her lap. Aside from the tops of her well formed tits showing…she was the LADY.

“Listen Bobby. . .” {I noticed I was ‘Bobby’ again} “. . . I need to know what you’re planning on telling your father and what I need to do to prevent it.”
{Boy, she wasn’t too obvious}
“You don’t have to do anything.” I told her trying hard not to smile.
“Bobby, I know better than that.”
“After what happened yesterday afternoon. . .”

I could see her pretty face flush with color. It was kinda surprising.
“. . .After the things you made me do in the garage. . .”
{She was going to stick with that “You made me” bullshit.}
“. . .Well, let me just say I know how young boys are.” She tells me. I’m sure she was unaware of the tiny twinkle in her eyes as she said it. It made me think she might be recalling some long ago memory; or perhaps even a recollection from yesterday.

“And how are we?” I asked somewhat sarcastically.
“Well. . . . . .At your age, all you guys want to do is. . .” She looked for the words; first on the floor, then the ceiling and then over towards the window,
“. . .Cum!” she decided on.
My eyebrows went up when she said the word and I felt my dick move up to the gate.
“. . .And it’s a known fact, not unusual as a matter-of-fact, for a young boy to have―Well―certain feelings for his mother at one time or another; certain ‘un-pure’ feelings…” She called them. “Freud called it. . .”
I cut her off, “Un-pure feelings?” I asked with a smirk.
“Yes Robert. The kind of feelings I’m sure you have when you’re masturbating.” She says sharply, criticizing as if she’s uncovered some deep dark secret and she’s letting me know that she knows.
“Ohhhhhhh. . .” I made like I’d finally got it. “Riiiiiiiiiight.”
She sat on my bed with a smug look on her face like she was back in charge.

“Well then. . .” I gave her a long look. Breathtaking, I thought.
{Down to business} “ . . .I suppose there IS something that I want you to do. I mean, if you don’t want me to tell Dad that is.”
“Of course there is. I knew there would be. . .” She said brashly, her head held a little higher. She seemed to sit up even straighter and smoothed the hem of her dress with her pretty hands; almost gloating that she’d been “Right”.
“Well then, what is it?” She asks, seemingly in charge but unbelievably transparent.

I stared at her for a few long seconds.
“You have really nice tits.” I finally told her.
She rolled her eyes and tried to look put-off.
“I want to see them.”
She sighed―“If I show you. . .” She was already sliding her hands up to the open ‘V’ of her dress. “. . .Is our secret safe for another day?”
“Probably not.”
She looked a little surprised. I expected some attitude but she said nothing.
I was giving her just what she wanted. I was “Blackmailing” her. I was MAKING her do this. . . . . .To save the family!

Bless her heart. She was going to brave this awful indecency. She was going to take one for the Kipper, bare that cross, sacrifice………for the family. I almost felt bad for taking her time away from that pesky world hunger thing.

She touched the open ‘V’ of her dress. She then slid her long fingers under the material above each firm tit. She gently pulled the material of her dress open and guided it around and then down underneath each mound of smooth, white flesh.
Her breasts popped out firmly over the material; two large globes pushed together by the opening of her dress. They hardly jiggled when Mom leaned back on her hands to display them and watch for my reaction. I hadn’t seen any scars indicating a breast implant, but then again, I hadn’t had the chance to examine them very thoroughly. I would remedy that.

I was impressed, there was no denying.
“Figures you’d say that about your own ‘Mothers’ tits.” She says disgusted and condescendingly.
“It has nothing to do with me being your son. Any guy would love those, Mom.” I told her honestly.

For a split second she seemed to accept the complement with the good intentions it was given.
“Thank you.” She said with a little less attitude.
“Wow!” I declared as I took note of her nipples. I pointed out that they were actually hard, “Imagine that!” I mocked.

She looked down quickly as if she didn’t believe me.
They grew even larger as she sat there exposing herself; bigger than the tips of my thumbs. They looked like dark, ripe grapes ready to be picked.
She sat up and raised her hands to her nipples as if I wasn’t even there. She touched them with her long fingernails then tweaked them between her finger and thumb to confirm their hardness.
“It’s cold in here.” She sneered.

I got up and walked over to my Mom. She rested back on her hands as I approached the bed. Her eyes bounced back and forth from my face to the large bulge in my pants. She didn’t say a word as I reached out and touched her hard nipples.

It was such a rush. I ran my fingers over them and tweaked them as she had done. I let my hands lightly massage the roundness of them; the fullness. Not implants.
I fully expected her to give me some bullshit response, some fake protest, or even a bogus look of annoyance at the very least. She did and said nothing. As a matter of fact, she leaned back, watched me, and just let me do it. At one point she even closed her eyes and sighed.

I slipped my hands under them and lifted them up; they more than filled my hands. I compared them, lifted one and then the other. I squeezed them gently. They felt great; firm and yet soft.
“Do you like that?” I mistakenly asked.
Her eyes snapped open, “If you think I’m getting any pleasure being subjected to this. . . . . .this filthy experience, you’re sadly mistaken Robert? She told me harshly. Her words had that hard tone that I was beginning to despise. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why she just couldn’t drop the act.

I stopped and stepped back. “Well, you’re eyes were closed.” I explained.
“So I don’t have to watch you . . . . . . do this to me.” She insisted.
“You looked like you liked it.” I persisted.
“Well I assure you Robert. . .” She looked at me and lied. “I get absolutely no pleasure from being touched like this by my own son.” She forced a heavy breath out and turned her head towards the window. “What parent would?” She insisted as she stared out the window as if she were deep in thought.

I gazed at her beautiful profile; the line of her jaw, the sexy curve of her nose, her mouth, then back down at her wonderful tits before I turned and sat back down in my chair.
She seemed taken aback. “Well . . . I guess that wasn’t too bad.” She stated blandly. “Are you finished?”
“I don’t think so. Not yet.”
“Oh, of course you’re not.” She said with that fucking snotty, condescending tone and it was starting to really affect my mood.

She sat there on my bed. She made no attempt to cover her tits.
“What else?” She made it sound like she couldn’t wait to get this over with, but I knew better.
“I want to see your pussy.” I told her straight faced, all reserve gone.
“You know Robert…”
“Mom…” I cut her off. “Just show me.” I insisted.
I was a little tired of all the bullshit.
“Now!” I insisted, knowing full well that that was the tone she would prefer. That would make it easier for her to justify the act later on, when she was blaming me; telling me that I’d made her do it.

Mom simply looked me in the eyes and let her hands slip down into her lap. She slowly walked her fingers over the skirt of her dress, bunching the material in her hands as the hem made its way slowly up her thighs. It was truly erotic. I could feel my dick at the gate waiting for the starting gun like a kid waits for the last bell of the day on the last day of school.

When the front of her dress was nearly up to her waist, her beautiful legs parted. I could see she was wearing no panties. The sight was overwhelming.
I believe that I actually gasped when her pussy came into view. The bright lights of my room were far better than the tiny light over the workbench in the garage.

As I should have expected; like everything else; her pussy was scenic. I realize that for the most part, SCENIC isn’t a word normally used to describe a pussy. But I mean to tell you, if my mom sat on a bench on the side of the road with her legs spread……I think people would actually pull over to get a better look.
It was shaved bald and smooth. I knew this last night but now. . . . It was clearly visible and it was quite a sight; quite aspiring. If only I was a poet.
The lips were small, nicely swollen and slightly open revealing the pinkness inside; the color of bubblegum. They shimmered with the moistness she couldn’t hide no matter how much bullshitting and denying she would do later.

“I would tell you to get it wet, but it looks like you already are.”
She blushed again as her willingness was temporarily exposed and her wall weakened a bit. She had no nasty come-backs, no righteous responses.
“Play with yourself.” I said firmly recalling what she’d made me do on the couch when she’d caught me jerking off.
There was no protest. She spread her legs wider and began to slowly rub her pussy. My dick was screaming to get out. You’d have thought my pants were on fire.

What a sight. She sat there on the edge of my bed letting her fingers slowly caress her smooth coochie. Her clit was no different than her nipples. It was large, swollen and quite a bit darker then the pretty pink of her pussy.
Her fingers strummed back and forth over it, occasionally sliding up & down over the length of her shiny pussy lips. Her eyes were closed again and she was scrapping her teeth over her full, red bottom lip. The image was so incredibly sexy. When she opened her eyes, I was standing right in front of her. She merely looked me in the eyes and continued doing what I’d told her to do. There was no malice or nastiness in her eyes now. Her eyes dropped to the bulge in my pants; no sign of contempt on her face.

“I suppose you’re going to fuck me now?”
She tried to sound displeased but the attempt seemed to fall well short of the mark. I noticed that her fingers slid deep between her wet pussy lips when she asked the question.
“Spread your pussy lips. . .” I told her ignoring her question. “Play with your clit.” Was all I said.
“No one can know about this.” She whispered to the room.

I watched as she did what I told her to do. Her breathing became more labored. Her eyes were closed again. She scooted back a little on her own accord; enough to allow her to bring her bare feet up to rest on the very edge of my bed letting her legs spread even more.
“There! Is this what you want Robert? Is this what you want your mother to do for you?” She tried to pretend she didn’t like it but there was no way to hide her pleasure.
“Is this what YOU want?” I asked directly.

Her pretty jaw dropped. She stopped playing with her pussy. She looked at me not answering for a few seconds. She tried to look insulted; offended.
“Not at all. . .” She lied. “I’m doing this because you. . .”
“Want me to.” I cut her off. She fell silent.
I stepped forward and knelt down. She remained quiet; just watching. I softly brushed her hand away from her sweet pussy with my own. I ran my fingers over the bald softness above her pussy in awe. “Puppy dog ears.” I thought oddly enough. “Softer than puppy dog ears.”

She stared down at me and watched as I let my thumb glide over her swollen clit. A velvet stone wrapped in a soft pink silk blanket. I felt Mom jerk her hips a tiny bit when I touched it.
I looked up at her. Our eyes met― “Well then, let’s see if you get any pleasure from this.” I told her.

I leaned in and tenderly kissed her clit. I could feel her twitch under my lips. It was like her pussy was gasping for air. I gently sucked her swollen bud into my mouth. I felt her thighs tighten a little as my tongue flipped over her clit a few times then made its way down into her pussy. I licked and kissed and sucked, slowly, switching back and forth between her pussy and her clit. I even let the tip of my tongue slip down and tease her puckered asshole. An all but silent moan escaped her and she seemed to lift up the slightest bit to encourage me.
I’d never done anything like that before. Lick someone’s ass, I mean. But then again, I was doing a lot of things lately that I’d never done before. I kissed each soft ass cheek and worked my way slowly back to the smoothness of her slick pubic area. {It was the first time I’d ever really seen or felt a real shaved pussy. It was great}

I could feel Mom reacting. There was no way for her to hide it. She laid back; her arms flat to each side of her; palms down; fingers spread wide and she began to push up into my face. I could hear her breathing had become much heavier; she was breathing out of her mouth now. A few tiny moans escaped her lips as I got lost in my mom’s wonderful pussy.

“Should I stop?” I mumbled into her wet coochie.
“Yesssss. . .” She cooed as she slipped a hand behind my head. “You shouldn’t be doing this to me.” She protested weakly; her fingers entwined in my hair so I couldn’t pull away.
“You need to stop this Robert.” She moaned. “You need to stop making me do these things.” She gasped softly.

I sucked her clit into my mouth hard…
“Stoooopppp…” Mom moaned quietly. “You shouldn’t. . .Don’t make me. . .”
I kissed her softly and pulled away before she had a chance to cum then I stood up. Mom opened her eyes. Her chest was heaving as she tried to get enough air. Her gaze went to the bulge in my pants again and her eyes began to plead.

I assumed she was waiting for me to pull my dick out and fuck her. When I didn’t, she let her feet fall back to the floor and she slowly sat up again. She covered her breasts and slowly closed her legs as her breathing calmed. All though she would have denied it; the disappointment was obvious in her beautiful eyes as she scrapped her teeth over her bottom lip.

She was quiet until she regained some control of her breathing.
“Are we. . . . . .Are we done?” She sighed, pulling her dress down over her legs and smoothing it out with one shaking hand. I know she wanted to sound relieved that I’d stopped…but she couldn’t pull it off.
If she was trying to convince me that she really wanted me to stop, she was doing a poor job of it. If she was trying to sound stern and hardhearted, she wasn’t succeeding there either.

I would have liked to end it right there to prove a point, but there was no way I could. Not without my dick leaving without so much as a good-bye note or a forwarding address.
I looked at her for a little bit. Letting her think I was finished. Then I started to remove my sweatpants.

“I…I figured as much.” She commented. “You won’t be satisfied until you’ve gotten your rocks off and totally humiliated me again”.
The bullshit seemed to roll right off me at this point. I pulled my feet out of my sweatpants and kicked them away.

“Shut up!” I barked.
I saw my mother’s eyes light up. I saw a switch flip. For the first time I could clearly see the lust she tried so hard to convince me wasn’t there. I decided to take advantage of it.

“Make me cum!” I insisted with a new found power.
She sat there looking at me; her full dark red lips slightly parted revealing a hint of her two front pearl white teeth. Her eyes were different now. These deep, alluring blue eyes shone with desire. She stared at me with a lustful, immoral stare and slowly, gracefully slid off the bed onto her knees in front of me.
“Do you want me to suck your cock.” She asked with no shame. Without waiting for an answer, she leaned forward and kissed the very tip of me. A single strand of pre-cum connected us. She licked her lips staring up at me before willingly taking me into her mouth. I had never known anything that looked or felt that good. I still haven’t.

There’s no way to really describe how she looked, staring up at me and slowly dragging her luscious full lips over my cock; kissing it, tasting it before she moaned and took me all the way in her mouth again and down her throat. I thought I was gunna explode but before I could, she stopped.

“Holy shit! What’s she doing?!?” I thought it was over; we were done. That bitch. She’d turned the tables on me again, I thought. Before I could get my head all the way around the idea that we were done, Mom laid down on my floor and pulled her dress up around her waist. She brought her knees up then let them fall apart.
“Come on.” She told me without hesitation, no misgivings. With no show of reluctance or mock unwillingness she all but begged.
“Are you sure that you want me to?”

{I only asked to officially put an end to the bullshit.}

She sat up reaching out to me, encouraging me to come closer. She took hold of my dick with one hand and pulled me to her.
“Fuck me!” She pleaded as she laid back. “I want you to fuck me.” She whispered as she guided me between her legs.

That was all the encouragement I needed.
My Mom moaned deeply as I braced myself up on my hands and slid my hard dick into her. I felt her legs wrap around my small ass as she pushed up to meet me halfway; not able to wait another second.
She pulled my face closer. I could feel her hot breath on my neck. “Fuck me!” She whispers in my ear.
She took my face in both hands and pulled my head back enough so that she could see my face clearly. I watched her full red lips as she silently mouthed the words, “FUCK ME.” Then she pulled my face to her open mouth and kissed me; a long, deep kiss that made me burry my dick as deep into her pussy as I could get. Her creamy lips closed over mine and her tongue slid into my mouth.
“Mmmmmmmm. . .” She moaned into my mouth and squeezed me with her legs as we pushed into each other.

I know it sounds crazy, but in spite of the things my mother and I had done; were doing; in spite of the way I fantasized and lusted for her…I somehow thought kissing her would feel…Well…Weird. Go figure. But that wasn’t the case at all. It was appealing, sensual. Remarkably………easy.

Before the kiss was over, I felt one hand make its way to my ass and her legs tighten around my hips like a vise. She pulled me into her, driving my head into the crook of her neck and jerking her ass up off the floor like she was lying on a hot grill and she was trying not to burn her ass. Her head fell back to the carpet; red lipstick smeared around her mouth.
“Come on Bobby!” She yelled hoarsely. “Make me cum again.” She begged.

I started cumming almost immediately. Mom’s mouth dropped open as she sucked in a quick, hard breath and held it. Her eyes became dreamy and rolled back under her eyelids as her orgasm swept her away.
“YEEEEESSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!” She cried as she felt my cock explode inside her. A deep, gargled, rattling sound came from deep inside Mom’s throat. She held onto me like she’d fall to her death if she let go. She bucked back hard against my thrusts arching her back and pulling me down with her legs.
“Ahhhhhhggggggggggg―FUCK YEAH!!!FUCK ME BABY!!!FUCK MOMMY!!!”

I felt Mom’s pussy tightened around my spurting cock like a desperate hand. She held me tight and thrashed as I shot into her again and again. Mom came hard; burying her face in my neck, making sounds I’d never heard before; fucking me with hard, short, quick, jerks, grinding into me as I shot the last of my cum inside her.

After we both came, we slowed but kept moving, kept fucking; slower, more gently, less like animals. It just felt so good neither of us want to stop. A little while after we’d caught our breath, Mom gently coaxed me off. “Lay down.” She whispered in a voice I hadn’t hear since fifth or sixth grade.

I lay over on my back on the floor and Mom straddled me. She reached under her dress and guided my semi-hard dick back into her sopping but willing pussy. She leaned her head back and moaned blissfully as she slowly slid her ass back and
Forth………………………………….up and down……………………………….left and right.

She cups my face in her hands again, sweeps my hair away from my eyes with her thumbs, “I don’t want to stop yet.” She says softly; almost pleading for me to let her.
“You can fuck me anytime you want Sweetie.” She whispered as she rocked on my tired dick. “I’m sorry I’m a bitch.” She tells me. It almost made my want to cry hearing her say that. Had not been for the bubble of bliss that engulfed me at the moment…I might have.
“You’re not a bitch.” was all I could think to say. She kissed me…Like she really loved me…as we moved together in that gentle, swaying fuck, for lack of a better word.

It wasn’t long before Mom started to move with a little more zest. Her breath came harder and louder in my ear and her gentle sway had built up into something with a bit more attitude. She softly whispered my name {Bobby not Robert} as she tightened her hold on me.

It didn’t take long before Mom was lost again.
“Oh my god! Oh my God!” She moaned. “I’m…I’m gunna cum! I’m cumming again!!!” She gasped and closed her mouth over mine. The kiss was far from a kiss that had to be taken. This was a kiss given freely, passionately, lustfully.
“Uuuummmm. . .”She moaned into my mouth as the kiss became harder, deeper. “Ummm―hummm. . .”
Our mouths, our lips moved, slid over each others, oiled by her lipstick and our saliva. It was wet and messy…like a great passionate kiss should be.

Mom pushed up off my chest, sat up straight, and tucked her chin between her luscious tits. Her body stiffened on top of me. She dug her fingers into my pecks and pushed down hard enough to leave my ass print in the carpet. I felt her coochie constrict, sucking at my dick, squeezing it; trying to get more of my dick inside.
“Urgggggggggggggggghhhhh. . .” She groaned as she jerked her hips; tiny, little jerks. I felt more warmth pour down on top of me and run down between my legs, over my ball to the carpet below then she collapsed on my chest with a long lung emptying sigh.

“Oh my God Bobby! Oh my god!”
She was giggling, almost laughing. It was almost scary like I might have to call someone for help.
“I. . .I can’t believe it…” She managed to say as she tried to suck in air.
“I’ve never. . .never cum like that.” She gasped and giggled but she sounded sincere.

There would be no more “Blackmail”, no more bitching, no more “You made me do this”, no more facades, and pretenses. Only forbidden secrets and sinful pleasure.

Anonymous readerReport

2016-12-05 04:14:12
Congratulations on a story well told, great amount of fun and light heartedness. Look forward to further stories by your hand.
Well done, captivating.

Anonymous readerReport

2016-11-21 21:05:50
I love the way Mom played the role of the scared bitch.

Anonymous readerReport

2016-10-23 06:04:11

Anonymous readerReport

2016-09-26 15:59:07
very well put together all stories that as one like caught

Anonymous readerReport

2016-09-18 04:48:23
Awesome story!!!

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