Tweens

Life goes on – Part 3

Life goes on – Part 3
By
Caliboy1991

Tonight, I really wished the coach would put me in. This was the first game since my dad’s funeral a couple of weeks ago in which I got to plan, and also the first night Mom had gotten out, even though she sat in the bleachers, almost with a shield of solitude around her. The past two weeks had been hard. Sometimes, I found Mom still in bed when I came home. Other times, I found her in the living room, bawling her eyes out. And I’ve only been able to sleep in my own bed about half the time. I hoped seeing me play in the basketball game would cheer Mom up. But I got my five minutes at the start of the game and knew I would ride the bench the rest of the evening.

With only a few minutes left in the game, we were behind by several baskets. Some of the guys were perving the girls in the stands. The boy sitting beside me, Andre, dug his elbow into my ribs, “Dude, is that your mom up on the fifth row?”

I glanced behind me. Mom was still there. She was bored, only coming because I had begged her for a week. “Yeah. That’s her.”

“Damn, you’re freaking lucky. Your mom’s hot. I’d tap that!”

My vision narrowed, and I pushed him, making him fall over backwards, “Take that back, Andre. That’s my mom you’re talking about.”

Andre jumped up, pissed off and glaring at me, “Fuck you, Todd. I’m just saying–”

There was a whistle from one of the refs, and Coach Brown was in between us, “What the hell?”

I felt myself sinking into my own dark spot. I just knew Coach would take Andre’s side when the other boy said, “I was just talking and Todd hauled off and hit me.”

Still, I would not go down without defending my mom, “You were trash talking my mom.”

The ref said, “Clear these kids, Coach, or there’ll be a foul on your team for unsportsmanlike conduct.”

Coach Brown glanced up at the board where the score was visible for all to see, Home: 52 Visitors:60. He pointed to Andre, “Get your butt into the locker room. I don’t want to hear you sassing about anyone’s momma.”

Then, he took me by the arm, “Come on, Todd. Why don’t you go get your mom and head on home? Maybe next week we’ll win.”

His voice was soft and apologetic. Even so, it didn’t seem fair for both of us to be ejected. Not when Andre had said he’d tap that. I felt some shame when I went up into the stands and said, “You ready to go?”

She nodded and grabbed her purse. We were gone before the final buzzer sounded. We hadn’t gone far when Mom said, “What did you get kicked out for?”

I shook my head, “It was nothing. Andre was just talking smack.”

Mom sighed. I could nearly hear her emotions. “I’m your mom, Todd. You’re supposed to tell me these things.”

I didn’t want to open up another stream of tears and I could tell she was close. I said, “He was talking about you, stuff he wanted to do. You know how guys are. I hit him.”

There was an awkward silence until she said, “Your teammates think I’m hot?”

The heat in my face was nearly overwhelming. I nodded, “Yeah.”

There was a brittle laugh, “I guess I should feel flattered a bunch of twelve- and thirteen-year-olds still think I’m sexy. I just don’t feel like I am. I…”

Her voice choked for a moment and I could see tears pooling in her eyes. She continued, “I’m not taking care of myself and I’m letting myself go. It’s just so hard to put out the effort.”

I reached across the console and put my hand on her arm, “Don’t say that. You’re really pretty.”

She wiped away the tears in one eye, “You really think so? I don’t feel it.”

My thoughts went back to those half-dozen times over the past couple of weeks when I had cuddled with her. Even though my erections were immensely embarrassing those times I woke up with Mom’s backside molded against my groin, I knew the reason they happened was because I found Mom to be very sexy.

By now, she had pulled the car into our garage. I unbuckled myself and leaned over and gave her a quick peck on her cheek, “Yeah. I do.”

I hadn’t managed to keep her tears away. By the time she was climbing the stairs, Mom was crying again. I hated to see her crying like this, especially when I wasn’t certain why the tears flowed. I slid my hand into hers and walked with her up the stairs. I could’ve let go when I got to my room. But even though I didn’t understand why the tears were freely flowing, I knew she needed me.

When we got into her room, instead of letting go of my hand and going over to the bed. Mom turned and wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a fierce hug. Her wet face nuzzled against my neck and her body was nearly rigid until I wrapped my arms around her back. Then she melted against me as she continued crying.

I couldn’t ignore her small breasts pressing against my basketball jersey. Now, though, I could feel her bra through the fabric of both our shirts. Andre’s words came back to me as I held Mom. She was sexy. When I felt my penis stir in my shorts, I shifted my hips as Mom continued hugging me, putting some space between our midsections.

When she eventually let go the hug, Mom’s arms were still around my neck. She looked up and gave me a tear-filled bittersweet smile. Then she leaned up and brushed her lips across mine. It was just a brief moment, and it was over. But she had never done that to me before, and it stunned me speechless.

She went over to the bed and when she sat down, through more tears, she said, “I’m sorry, Todd. I shouldn’t have done that.”

My lips tingled, and I wanted to make her feel better about herself. I said, “I didn’t mind, Mom.”

She patted the place where Jerry used to sleep and I crawled onto the bed. Through her tears, Mom said, “I know it’s not fair to you, but thank you for staying with me. I just feel so lost and when you hold me, I feel like I can actually make it another day.”

Still wearing the clothes she wore to my game, Mom rolled onto her side. I kicked off my shoes and socks and lied down beside her, still in my basketball uniform. Mom lifted her hand, and I draped my arm across her stomach while we both drew close to each other.

It’s not that waking up with a boner is a big deal, after all, I’m twelve and I get them all the time. But when my mom’s backside pressed against my groin and my penis touched her, even through all the clothes, it made me feel weird. But when I woke up very early the next morning, my hand was on her stomach and her T-shirt had ridden up during the night. Her skin was silky smooth, and that only made my boner strain more against my shorts. I felt a wave of guilt wash over me. I slipped away from her and headed to her bathroom, where it took forever for me to piss through my erection.

Once done, I glanced back at the closed door and wrapped my fingers around my erection. I spat on it, to lube it up a bit and was soon sliding my fist up and down my morning wood. I had woken up hornier than I could ever remember and it didn’t take long for those tingles to give way to fireworks exploding in my head and in my groin as my penis spasmed in my hand and I blasted out a few drops of my clear, watery cum.

I went back into Mom’s bedroom after cleaning up. Even though it was a Saturday morning, it was only a few minutes after five and if there was more sleep to be had, I wanted to find it. I hoped my penis would give me some relief now that I had relieved the pressure. The biggest reason rolling back into place next to Mom felt weird was because I couldn’t control my erections and feeling her butt through her clothes felt wrong. Like I was taking advantage of her. Still, once I snuggled against her and put my arm around her, I closed my eyes and fell asleep again.

When I woke up, light from the windows streamed through cracks in the curtain. The first thing I realized was my hand wasn’t stretched across Mom’s torso. The second was Mom had rolled over, facing me. Her eyes were open, and she said, “Good morning, sweetie.”

Her voice almost sounded normal, and not the strained, lost voice of a woman adrift in her pain. I felt a smile play at my lips, “Morning back at you.”

She said, “You looked so peaceful, lying there asleep. I didn’t want to disturb my beautiful angel.”

My cheeks felt aglow with heat at those words. “Guys aren’t supposed to be beautiful. I think it’s against the rules.”

Her lips curled at the edges, almost giving me a smile, “There’s an exception for moms, Todd. Moms are always allowed to think their sons are beautiful, even when they’re getting older, like you. I can’t believe you’ll be a teenager in a couple of months. I can close my eyes and remember just like it was yesterday bringing you home from the hospital.”

The heat in my cheeks was now in my ears and neck, “Jeez, Mom. I’m glad one of us remembers.”

That ghost of a smile disappeared. She reached out and ran a hand across my cheek, “So smooth. So unlike Jerry.”

The tears filled her eyes, “Oh, shit! I can’t stop.”

Instinctively, my arms snaked around her back, and I pulled her into a hug. As she sobbed, her arms went around me and she hugged me back. Even though I missed Jerry more than I could comprehend, Mom’s grief was on a magnitude different from mine and all I could do was be there for her. And it wasn’t easy with her breasts pushed against my chest. Growing up, I had never given them much thought, even if I had become more aware of them over the past year. But now, holding her, I realized how petite and childlike she was. Most of the girls in the seventh grade were taller than her five feet (152 cm). And a lot of them were bigger in the chest, too. Feeling her through her bra, her breasts might have been the size of a baseball, maybe. It was hard to tell through her bra’s padding.

Speaking of hard, even though I had just rubbed one out, I was trying to keep myself from getting hard. Mom’s body pressed against mine in this hug of ours, and the signals my body was receiving made it a challenge to stay soft. I started thinking about basketball practice and making shots from the three-point line, anything to avoid thinking about my body.

The sobs lessened and Mom whispered, “Thank you so much, Todd. You’re my savior.”

Then, she pulled her head from my shoulders, and our noses were nearly touching as she added, “I love you, baby.” Then she stunned me by kissing me. This wasn’t like the quick peck from a couple of weeks ago. Her lips touched mine, and she kissed me full on. My heart thundered in my chest and when she didn’t pull back after the third heartbeat, I responded by returning the kiss.

I had only kissed a girl once before. And that had been at my friend Bobby’s birthday back in the sixth grade. We played spin the bottle, and I had to kiss Alison Moony. This kiss felt nothing like that one. All thoughts of shooting hoops scattered on the wind of my imagination. All I could think about was Mom’s lips on mine and her breasts pressed against my chest. My body responded, and I felt my erection poking against my shorts.

When the kiss ended, Mom’s tear-stained face seemed to search mine, as though seeking something. When she finally spoke, she said, “I-, I shouldn’t have done that, Todd. I’m sorry. I just needed it so bad.”

Confusion wracked me. On one hand, my mom was the sexiest woman I knew. She was far better looking than most of the moms of the other kids in my grade. But on the other hand, she was my freaking mom. There were kisses a boy could share with his mom and kisses he shouldn’t. And this was the latter.

And my body clearly liked the kiss. A lot. Despite the tornado of confusion tearing through my mind, at a deeper level, I liked it, even if my response had been an awkward kiss. I reverted back to the answer I gave her that first time she brushed her lips over mine. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

And at some primal level, I didn’t, even though I was hopelessly over my head.

When she let go of me and I rolled onto my back, I instantly realized my mistake. My erect penis made a tent out of my basketball shorts. I was about to get up when Mom gasped, her eyes zeroed in on my groin. I shot out of bed, mumbling, “Shoot, I-, I’m sorry, Mom.”

Mom’s face was already red from crying. But I’m sure she felt embarrassed for me. She sat up and pursed her lips. “It’s okay, sweetie. It’s just a normal part of being a young man.”

She gathered a change of clothes and disappeared into the bathroom, saying nothing else. I went back to my bedroom where I changed and fired up my PS5. Before Jerry’s death, I would have closed the door, valuing my privacy. But I left it open now. I’ve been doing that since his passing so Mom would know I was close-by. And especially now, I wanted her to know I wasn’t upset over the whole embarrassing situation. And playing on my PlayStation, I could lock away the tumult of my emotions.

I can lose myself in my games; I was sneaking up on another player when I realized I wasn’t alone. After sniping the other player’s avatar in the head, I glanced behind me. Mom was leaning against the door. Her hair, now pulled back in a ponytail, had a fresh-scrubbed look. She wore one of Jerry’s over-sized T-shirts, which came down to her thighs, and a pair of her yoga shorts. It was the most relaxed I have seen her since my dad’s funeral.

When I turned back to the game, I was dead. I spun around on my butt, “Wow, you look like you’re feeling better.”

Mom’s smile was hollow, “Maybe I’m getting there. I know it’s one day at a time. But, God, it’s difficult as hell.”

I smiled at the profanity, because it was sounded so much like Jerry and not at all like her; unless she’s driving. After two weeks, for me, the pain wasn’t as sharp as in the days right after Jerry’s death. But I knew what she was talking about. I was taking each day, one at a time too.

She said, “I got those tamales out of the freezer. They’re thawing. You want to try some of them? I have some salsa in the fridge. I bet they’d taste good.”

I turned off the console and got to my feet. Mom stared at me, “When did you get so tall?”

I thought about how my body was at odds with itself. Parts of me growing faster than most of the kids at school, while other parts were lagging. I shrugged, “Dunno. But I’m pretty sure, I didn’t get my height from you.”

A genuine grin creased her features, “No. You certainly didn’t. You look like…”

The smile faded along with her voice. I found myself leaning forward. Mom never talked about my biological father, and yet—she almost had. She shook her head. “How about those tamales?”

We sat at the bar after warming the tamales. I had found a half-eaten bag of tostada chips in the fridge and we made a meal out of the tamales and chips. Last Saturday had been hard on both of us. Mom had spent most of the day in her room, tearing up at the least thing. I didn’t want that for today. The only time Mom had ventured out of the house was the time she went to my basketball game. I’d been taking the bus to and from school since returning to class.

I took our paper plates and threw them in the trash, “We should go out this evening. Do something.”

Mom wiped her mouth, getting rid of some sour cream in the corner of her mouth, “What do you have in mind, sweetie?”

I thought about seeing if she would take me bowling. I sucked at it. But it was something she and Jerry liked to do. Of course, there was an entertainment complex where they had laser-tag games. But somehow, I didn’t think she would enjoy that at all. And if I got Mom to go out, I really wanted it to be something she would enjoy.

There was new Cheesecake Factory at a shopping center a few miles from our house. If Mom had an Achilles’ heel when it came to her figure, it was cheesecake. Of course, until Jerry died, she attended yoga classes three times a week. Her figure was, even to my untrained and biased eyes, nearly perfect.

When I mentioned it to her, I saw a spark in her eyes before she said, “I don’t know, Todd. Maybe later.”

Mentally, I grabbed hold of that spark, “Come on, Mom. It’ll be fun. We can try out your favorite cheesecake.”

I could see her wavering. I added, “Please. For me.”

Even as her shoulders slumped at the prospect of going out in public, she nodded, “Alright. Just for you.”

The rest of the day passed by uneventfully. Mom seemed to hold things together. When it was time to get dressed, I made sure to put on a nice pair of slacks and a blue button-down shirt. I even buffed my dress shoes. I wanted our little date to be special for her.

Mom’s door was open, and I went over to it. She was sitting at her vanity, her hair in curls. She wore a t-shirt and panties while she put on some makeup. Seeing her in so little, I thought it best to back away when she spied me through the mirror. “Wow, Todd. You look handsome. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were taking me on a date.”

My face turned red as I dug the toe of my shoe into the carpet, “I guess it kind of is, if you think about it. You deserve to get out someplace and have fun.”

She finished applying a touch of eyeliner as she looked at me through the mirror. “I’m so lucky to have you, sweetie.” There was a hitch in her voice, “I-, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Then she swiveled around, “How’s this look?”

Mom wasn’t someone to wear a ton of makeup. And this evening was no exception. She had a little mascara and lipstick and perhaps some base and rouge, but not enough to really stand out. Not that she needed it. For a moment, my eyes drifted to her chest. I don’t think she had a bra on right then, because I could see indentions in the t-shirt where her nipples were. Her legs were closed, so I couldn’t see much of per panties.

But when my eyes returned to hers, I said, “You look really pretty. I might have to carry a bat with me to keep other guys from hitting on you.”

Her eyes looked at the floor as a natural blush overcame the rouge on her cheeks, “You’re just being kind.”

I came into her room and sat on the end of the bed. I wondered why she didn’t see just how sexy she looked. I shook my head, “No, seriously. You look really, ah, sexy.”

A bashful smile appeared on her face, “Thank you, sweetie. This is your date, so why don’t you pick out one of my dresses in the closet?”

I nodded, doing my best to keep my eyes from looking at her, and hurried into the walk-in closet. On one side were Jerry’s clothes. On the other were Mom’s. She had more than him. I looked over her dresses. A couple were long and flowing. Others were shorter. And even though April had only just begun, the weather outside was pleasant. I picked up a black dress. It was one I had seen Mom wear on a couple of dates with Jerry. I held it up and knew right away, this was the dress I wanted her to wear.

When I came back in and gave it to her, she took it and said, “Good choice, sweetie. Jerry got this for me for my birthday a couple of years ago. It’s one of my favorites.”

She unzipped the back, “It even has its own padded bra.”

I waited in my room while she changed. After a couple of minutes, Mom’s voice came down the hall, “Todd, can you help?”

When I came in, she was in the dress and I had been right. She looked hot in it. She spun around, “Can you zip me up, please?”

My fingers trembled as I saw her naked back. There was a sensuality to seeing her naked back that until now I hadn’t felt when cuddled up against her. But I took a couple of deep breaths and pulled the zipper up. “There you go.”

Dinner went well enough. While it didn’t quite live up to my fantasy, I could see Mom really tried to enjoy herself. She even had a glass of wine with her meal, and we finished up dinner by splitting one of their fabulous cheesecakes.

It was after we paid and were walking back toward the car, she slipped her hand into mine. My hand was sweaty that I hardly noticed how damp hers was too. When we got back to the car, she grabbed me around the neck and pulled me into a hug, “Thank you, sweetie. It’s so hard getting out again, but it’s a small enough price to pay to be with you.”

When she loosened her arms, her lips brushed against my checks until they touched my lips. She made a faint noise as she pressed her mouth against mine. Even though the confusion returned in my mind, my body responded right away and I kissed her back, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her against me.

There was a buzzing in my ear when I broke the kiss. Mom looked embarrassed as we both looked around. Funny, there were a few people walking to and from the restaurant. And not a single one of them paid us any mind. My lips tingled from the prolonged kiss, and I wanted to taste Mom’s lips again. My mind was still in turmoil. I knew nobody would approve of my feelings right then. Yet it didn’t change how I felt.

I opened the driver’s side door for Mom and then hurried around to my side. When I climbed in, I saw the doubt in her eyes. She glanced my way as her hands gripped the steering wheel, “I shouldn’t have done that. God, I’m so fucked up right now, kissing my own son.”

I reached out and put a hand on her bare arm, “It’s okay. It’s no big deal. I didn’t mind.”

She sniffled, “What would your dad say? I’m horrible.”

Somehow or another, I figured if Jerry could see us, he would want me to be there for my mom. And if anyone would understand her emotions and needs, it would be my step-dad. I gently squeezed her arm, “Dad would want me to be here for you. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

A tear rolled down her cheek, black against her pale skin from the eyeliner. She was trying so hard to not break down bawling. “B-, but I shouldn’t have.”

I didn’t want to see her cry and even if I wasn’t absolutely certain Jerry would want me to do it, I leaned over the console and took her face in my hand and turned it toward me. Mom’s eyes pooled with tears and there was shame on her face. I whispered, “I told you, I didn’t mind.”

Then I leaned in and kissed her. Her lips tasted of cheesecake and salty tears. I stayed there with my lips awkwardly pressed against hers, trying to replicate the way her lips had formed against mine earlier. I wasn’t sure how long I kept my lips pressed against hers before she molded her lips into a kiss and responded.

When I finally pulled back, I said, “I told you I didn’t mind. It’s okay.”

Mom bit back a sob as her lips tried curling into a glimmer of a smile and she pulled out and drove us home. Neither of us said much. I was still wrapping my mind around the fact I had just kissed my mom, and not the other way around. I chanced glances at her. Whether it was so much of her leg showing below the short hem of her dress or the delightful contour of her chest, or even the way her curls lay on her shoulders; Mom really was incredibly sexy.

Fortunately, it was dark in the car and my dress pants were bunched up around my crotch, enough so that she wouldn’t have been able to see the tent my penis made. And now that I had been the one to kiss her, my barely adolescent mind wondered what else might happen.

When we got home, and Mom parked the car in the garage, I hurried over to her side and opened the door. This had, after all, been a date and what kind of guy would I be if I failed to open the door? It was barely nine o’clock when we came into the house. My own emotions were in turmoil. Part of me wanted more of those kisses. The rest of me feared what might happen next. However, the date had been my idea and when we came into the living room, I slid my hand into Mom’s and said, “How did I do for a first date?”

Mom squeezed my hand, “You were awesome, sweetie. You really looked out after me. I-, I needed it.”

I took hold of her other hand and stood toe to toe with her, “That’s cool. Can I, um, can I take you out again?”

Mom’s eyes widened in surprise, “You really want to take your old mom out on dates, sweetie?”

My head was abuzz, and I was hard-pressed to keep my thoughts coherent, “Um, yeah. I would like that.”

Mom stepped into me, resting her head on my shoulder, “I think Jerry would like that you’re here for me. I love you so much, baby.”

I could feel another emotional response coming from her. I stroked her back, “I love you too.”

When Mom lifted her head from my shoulder, it looked like she was in control of her emotions again. I wasn’t sure what to do or say. But before I could decide, my head tilted and leaned down until my lips found hers. This wasn’t like the hyper-charged kiss she had given me outside the car, or my urgent attempt to show her I didn’t mind her kiss in the car. My lips touched hers and she responded by kissing me back. For me, this was a kiss that said, I love you and I’m there for you always. Maybe I’m assuming, but I felt as though she was saying she needed me.

When the kiss ended, her sigh wasn’t one of sadness. When she broke the silence, she said, “It’s getting late, sweetie.”

She didn’t let go of my hand. Instead, she led me up the stairs and past my room. When we got into her bedroom, she sat on the bed and stretched out her legs, “Would you mind taking my shoes off?”

I knelt down and slid her heels off. In doing so, my fingers slid across her feet and ankles. They were so soft, so smooth. My eyes roamed her legs, and I even found them stealing a glance at the darkness between her legs before I stood up. I said, “If you want, I can come back in here after I change.”

Mom took my hand before I could go, “Don’t go. Not yet.”

Confused about this, I stood still, uncertain what she wanted. She was processing stuff, I could tell, wanting to say more, but not sure what to say. After a moment, she said, “I can’t reach the zipper on this dress. Can you please help?”

She rose and offered her back. That shaking in my fingers returned as I grabbed the zipper. Seeing her back appear as I unzipped the dress, my heart fluttered. I knew it was wrong to think it, but Mom’s back was incredibly sexy.

When I lowered the zipper all the way to the lower back, Mom tugged on her hips, dragging the dress down. I froze in shock when gravity took over and the dress fell to her feet. She wore only her panties.

I gulped. What now? All I managed was a confused, “Um.”

Then Mom turned around. She was within an arm’s length of me. There was no t-shirt, no blouse, no bra hiding her anymore. Her breasts, small and tight, rode high on her chest. They were slightly smaller than the baseball size I had first envisioned, and they were perfectly formed, at least to my inexperienced eyes. Her areolas were nearly as pale as the rest of her skin, and no bigger round than one of those gold dollar coins Jerry used to collect for me. Her nipples were perfectly centered in the middle of her areolas, no bigger than an eraser on the end of a number 2 pencil.

“Thanks for helping me with the dress, sweetie. Unless you’d rather me put on a shirt, I thought…”

Her voice died away, her intent unclear. I wanted to touch her boobs, and I also wanted to run and hide in my room. For the first time in my life, I was staring at tits. And not just any tits. My mom’s beautiful, perfect tits. My voice was dry as I stammered, “Um, I guess it’s okay.”

Mom went around to her side of the bed and slid under the covers, hiding her treasures. I was stuck. I didn’t know what to do or say. My plan to go into my room while mom changed was gone. I must have stood there for a minute or longer before Mom said, “I don’t want to sleep alone, sweety.”

I swallowed and thought about her boobs. I nodded, “Okay. I’ll get changed.”

Before I could take a step, she said, “Don’t go, babe. You…

Her voice was stuck as her eyes studied my face, as though searching for something. “Stay.”

Not sure why, I shucked my dress shoes and socks and climbed onto the side I’ve been on over the past couple of weeks. When I reached the pillows at the head of the bed, Mom’s hand reached out and caressed my chest. “Thank you, my love.”

Even though my nerves were a wreck, I smiled at her, “No problem.”

As her hand caressed my shirt, she worked the top button loose and then worked each successive button loose until her hand rubbed my bare chest, “That’s nice, sweetie. I noticed a couple of weeks ago, you have a very nice chest.”

I glanced down at my torso. It hadn’t seen the sunlight since last summer, and I was almost as pale as Mom. My shoulders are barely any wider than my hips, unlike some boys on my basketball team. To me, my chest was the same little-boy chest I’ve always had. “Really?”

Mom slid the shirt off my shoulders as she nodded, “Yes. You look so much like your father when he was your age.”

I was stunned. “Jerry?”

She shook her head as she rubbed my tiny, boyish nipples, “No. Your real dad.”

In those two brief sentences, she had told me more about my biological father than she had in the previous twelve years.

The shirt was bunching on my elbows, so I slipped it off the rest of the way as Mom continued her attention to my chest. Despite the distraction, I asked, “What was he like? What happened to him?”

Mom leaned against me, resting her head against my shoulder and neck, “He was so sweet. Over the past couple of weeks, it’s almost like having Terry back in my life.”

I was shocked to hear her say as much, especially after a lifetime of silence. “Terry?”

She nodded, her fingers caressing my stomach, “Yeah. That was his name. You look so much like him; I think I blocked all that out after he moved away and I met Jerry.”

I nearly focus on what she was saying when Mom’s fingers touched my belt. I tried to ignore the feeling of her fingers tracing my belt buckle, “Does he know about me?”

A familiar sadness passed over Mom’s face, “No, sweety. He moved away right after I discovered I was pregnant with you. I thought about reaching out. But we were just kids. I was fourteen, and he was thirteen. I didn’t want to upend his life, when there wasn’t anything he could have done.”

Mom’s fingers had worked the end of the belt loose and were now working at getting the belt’s metal tongue loose from the black leather. I had no idea the man who got my mom pregnant was actually a boy only a year older than me now.

Mom freed the metal tongue and my belt was loose around my waist. I stammered, “Am I really like him?”

Mom’s fingers worked at the button at the top of my fly, “So much, it’s uncanny. Sometimes, it’s just your mannerisms, other times, it’s the way you do something, and tonight, it was how you kissed me. You took me back to a better time.”

The button came loose. My penis twitched as Mom tugged on the zipper, pulling it down. I had nothing else to say. I lifted my hips and tugged my dress pants down. I wondered what Mom thought when I pushed my hips out, because my erection made a tent impossible to miss in my boxer briefs.

After I tossed my pants onto the floor, I pulled the covers up and turned toward Mom. “I want to know more about him. My real dad.”

She was on her side, facing me. She pulled the covers up just far enough to hide her breasts. “You look so much like him, even when, um, you pulled your pants down.”

I flushed at the inference as Mom continued, “Terry and I met in middle school. He was a grade behind me. We dated throughout my seventh and eighth year and through part of my ninth-grade year, until his dad got a job that forced him to move all the way across the country.”

I could do the math. That meant my real dad started dating Mom when he was actually younger than me. “Holy crap, I’m older than he was when you and he started dating. Wow.”

I knew the smile was genuine. It even lit up Mom’s eyes, “Those kisses are what did the trick, sweetie. The first time you actually kissed me, I was a kid again, and you were Terry kissing me.”

You’d think it would bother me, being compared to another boy, even one who happened to be my real father. But my face felt warm, and the heat radiated throughout me, even making me harder, if that were possible. Everything made sense. It wasn’t just some dirty thing where my mom was trying to seduce me. I was a manifestation of her first love.

“Cool,” I said.

She leaned into me and gave me a kiss, “You may remind me so much of your dad, but it’s you whom I love, Todd.”

It was a brief kiss, not lasting even three heartbeats. But something told me that wouldn’t be the last, not by a long shot. She rolled over, facing away from me. With everything she had told me, everything I was still processing, I stayed in place until she said, “Cuddle with me, babe.”

I moved over until my chest touched her naked back. I slid my arm across her hip and rested it on her stomach. I tried to keep my crotch from touching her backside as I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.

My hand was on something soft and warm when my eyes fluttered open. Despite the deep darkness of Mom’s room, I could dimly see the pale skin of her back. That’s when I realized my hand was lightly massaging her right boob. I felt the hardness of her nipple against my fingers. Next, I became aware of something rubbing against my penis. It only took another second to realize my groin and Mom’s backside were pressing into each other.

I nearly pulled my hand from Mom’s boob, and then thought that if she was asleep, doing so might wake her up. But I wasn’t sure if she was asleep, despite the deep breathing I heard. My penis was wedged between her butt cheeks, and her hips were moving just enough to cause some serious tingling in my erection.

Now that I was awake and my penis was throbbing, my fingers, almost on their own, resumed massaging Mom’s soft, warm tissue. My hips rocked, pushing my trapped penis against Mom’s panty-clad ass even as her body pushed against me. I had never imagined my penis could feel as good as it was, especially without using my hand. Yet that tingling only grew larger inside me as I felt my little balls constrict and my penis spasmed, coating the inside of my underwear with drops of my watery semen.

As I came, I moaned, “Mom! Ahh!”

Perhaps she was a sleep. Her deep breathing never altered, even as I spasmed a half-dozen times. My underwear felt slimy and before long cold. Still, if Mom slept through it, I really didn’t want to make a deal out of creaming in my pants. What would she think?!

Having experienced one of my most powerful orgasms to date, it wasn’t long before I fell back asleep.


“Um, sweetie, you awake?”

I blinked my eyes open as Mom repeated, “Baby, are you awake?”

I hadn’t moved since falling back asleep. My hand was still on Mom’s boob and my penis was still pushed against her butt crack. Worse, at some point, my erection had returned and there was no way for her to not feel me against her backside.

Still, that was nothing compared to what had happened during the night, and that wasn’t something I wanted to admit to. I yawned before saying, “Yeah, Mom?”

She placed her hand on mine, “Having fun with my boob?”

I let go, “Sorry. I guess that happened when we were asleep.”

She squeezed my hand a bit, “How do you like it?”

Taking that as permission, I put my hand back on her, “It’s so soft and warm. I really like how they feel.”

Mom purred, “It feels nice when you touch it.”

Then she wiggled her butt, “Oh, shit. What’s that?”

Her hips moved, and I felt her backside move off of my crotch. She said, “Was that what I think it was?”

She couldn’t see the flush on my face as I spooned her. I stammered, “Y-, yeah. S-, sorry.”

Mom giggled, “Holy shit. I can’t believe my butt was against your, um, penis.”

When I was younger, and learning about bodies, Mom had always insisted I use the right language. It was oddly gratifying she practiced what she preached.

Some of my own inhibition had died last night, when I had let Mom’s sleeping body stimulate me to orgasm. I gently squeezed her boob, “I don’t mind. Do you?”

Mom’s hand rested on mine as she relaxed. And as she relaxed, her backside eased back against my groin and my underwear-covered erection poked against her again. As we adjusted to this new awareness of each other’s bodies, I slid my other hand under her torso and against Mom’s upper belly, not stopping until I bumped against her gentle swells.

There was never a point in my life where I haven’t loved my mom. But as I held her, big spoon to her small, I caught a glimmer of something more. I rested my head against her shoulder, “Mom, did you love my real dad?”

She wiggled a bit, sending electrical tingles through my penis. “Oh, God, yes. I loved Terry so much.”

“As much as Jerry?”

She put both her hands over mine, “I hadn’t thought about them like that, sweetie. I met your dad when I was thirteen. I met Jerry just before turning eighteen. Jerry saved me, saved us, and I can’t imagine ever not loving him. But Terry was so sweet and innocent, and our love was the same way.”

It wasn’t exactly the answer I was looking for, but it made sense. We fell into silence; eventually my second hand found Mom’s other boob, and I found a lot of pleasure in massaging both. Every now and then, she or I would shift our hips, sending a tingling thrill from my penis up my spine.

After a bit, she shifted, pulling away for a moment as she rolled onto her back. With the covers pulled halfway down, her breasts looked gorgeous. She shifted again until we were facing each other and she snaked her arms around my neck. Before kissing me, she murmured, “I love you, Todd.”

Her lips played across mine, sending a shiver throughout my mouth. I’m sure my mind was still completely confused and unsettled by everything happening. But I compartmentalized it and, in that moment, I just wanted more. I slid my arms around her waist and pulled our bodies together. Her perky boobs pushed against my chest. I was nearly five inches taller, and my hardon pushed against my underwear where it pressed just below her pubic mound. She didn’t pull back, and I wasn’t about to.

Instead, her lips parted and another shock lit up my face when her tongue pushed into my mouth. I’ve seen a couple of kids in school Frenching and have watched it online. Even so, Mom took my breath away as her tongue snaked along mine, touching and twisting against my tongue. She squeezed my neck, as though trying to pull me to her, and I pulled us even closer and shoved my hips forward and I felt my underwear-covered erection push down, sliding against the underside of her panties.

“Ahhh!” Mom cried in my mouth.

Worried, I pulled my head back, “Sorry! Are you okay?”

Her head bobbed, “Oh, fuck! Yes, sweetie. That felt good.”

My only experience with any woman, aside from that silly spin the bottle game, came from watching online porn. And not that much of it. Still, I knew women also get their own orgasm, and I wondered if Mom had felt that.

I let her invade my mouth again. This time, I slowly pushed my hips forward. And again, Mom moaned in my mouth. I was mesmerized, pushing forward a few more times, that I had the power to give her such intense pleasure.

After leaving my mouth chapped, Mom rested her head against my shoulder, unwilling to let go. I wasn’t one to complain. I pushed my hips forward a few more times. Each time elicited a moan or shudder. Eventually, she let go of my neck and leaned back enough that she could look down and see our underwear pressed against one another.

My erection wasn’t visible. It was pushed down, pressing against the bottom of Mom’s panties. She said, “Are you okay, sweetie?”

I had thought I was horny last night. But that was nothing compared to now. I had never been more sexually charged than I was right then. “Fuck, yeah!”

I wasn’t sure how Mom would handle the profanity, but her lips found mine and she kissed me, pushing her tongue as deep into my mouth as it would fit. It didn’t last long, after all, I think she was telling me it was okay to swear, at least when we were like this.

When she pulled back again, she said, “Cool. Can I, um, can I see it?”

I have been taking my own showers since I was seven. And before that, my own baths for at least a year before. Mom hasn’t seen me naked in at least six years. I guess a younger boy, whose body isn’t ready for puberty might have flinched, wondering why his mom would ask that of him. Not me. My smoking hot Mom wanted to look at my dick and I wasn’t going to say no.

I pulled back far enough that we could see between our underwear. “Yeah. Sure.”

Mom reached a hand down between us and took hold of my underwear and pulled the front down far enough that my erection popped free and slapped my abs. “Ooh, That’s beautiful!”

I blushed at her praise. Even though I had shot my load in my underwear last night, it was only a few drops and my penis didn’t have any signs of last night’s little accident.

Mom pushed me onto my back and my penis pointed toward my chin. She sighed, “Oh my God, Todd. You look so much like your dad; you could be twins.”

I enjoyed knowing I looked like someone she loved passionately. Emboldened by her behavior, I said, “When was the first time you and my dad, you know, um, did it?”

Mom’s hand rested on my stomach. Her face colored, “I guess I was twelve. He was, um, well, he a year younger.”

I marveled at that. Mom had lost her virginity to my real dad when she was the same age as I am now. Mentally, those places in my mind where I felt conflicted, thinking this was wrong, I locked those doors and threw away the key. If Mom and my real dad had fucked each other when they were my age, I knew right then, I wanted the same thing. I said, “You can touch it, if you want.”

Her hand slid down my smooth pubic area; her fingers glided over my erection, which tingled with a pleasurable intensity. A moan escaped my mouth as a finger traced one of the tiny veins running along my thin, smooth shaft.

“It’s every bit as beautiful as Terry’s,” Mom said as her fingers encircled the base of my penis. She gently fondled me. There was no urgency. No, it was as though she had just found something she had lost many years ago and was enjoying finding it again. My arm reached out and cupped her boob. As I tweaked her nipple, she said, “Toward the end, he loved playing with my tits. God, his hands felt amazing.”

I squeezed her nipple until Mom let a little moan escape. “He didn’t like them before?”

She chuckled as she pulled on my penis, “When we started dating, I didn’t have even these little things, babe. I was thirteen before I had to wear even a training bra.”

After a bit, Mom let go of my erection. I felt fantastic. I knew it wouldn’t take long to send me over the edge. But she just wanted to enjoy our time together. And she was in the best mood I’d seen her since Jerry died.

She lay beside me, our hips touching, “God, I feel so liberated. I know it’s fucking crazy, babe. But being with you like this, it’s like I’m a kid again and I get to fall for my first love all over again.”

Hearing her tell me how much she loved me made my heart thump even faster. I sat up and leaned over her. “I love you too, Mom.”

I showed her I had learned from her as our lips met and I slipped my tongue through, touching her teeth and tongue. As my tongue explored her mouth, I put my hand on her boob, squeezing it gently and playing with her nipple. When I broke the kiss, I moved down to her breasts. I’d only seen one video of a guy sucking on a woman’s tits, but I had a good idea and I leaned over until my tongue touched her hard, rubbery nipple.

Mom moaned in pleasure as my tongue flicked over her tit. I opened my mouth and put my lips just outside of her areolas and sucked, while my tongue continued teasing her nipple. Eventually, I shifted to her other tit with my mouth and slowly slid my hand down her chest, rubbing her belly until my middle finger touched the lacy hem of her panties.

I pulled my mouth off her tit and smiled at Mom. She smiled back at me, as though everything was right in her world. I asked, “Am I doing okay?”

She nodded. I took this as permission and slid my finger under the lacey fabric. I found her pubic mound as I pushed my hand down and got the surprise of my young life. She was bare. My face must have given me away.

Mom giggled at me, “I um, I never had a lot of body hair. And, well, Jerry really liked me smooth, so he paid to have electrolysis done.”

I’d never heard that word before, “Electrowhatis?”

Mom pulled at her panties, giving me a better view, “Electrolysis. It’s where they permanently remove the hair.”

I was stunned. I could see her slit. Until I saw that bit of treasure, if you had told me there was something even sexier than a girl’s tits, I’d have called you crazy. But not now. Mom’s slit drew me like a lodestone. I touched it and felt her tremble beneath me.

I pulled back, “You okay? I can stop.”

She nodded as she slid her panties off her feet. “Yeah, babe. I’m better than okay.”

She spread her legs, giving me a view of what was hidden within that slit in her skin. Her slit really looked like puffy lips and when I saw within, there was a bit of a fleshy hood. Mom pointed there, “That’s my clitoris, sweety. Do you want to touch it?”

Did I want to touch it? Was the Pope Catholic? Hell yes. I nodded as my finger found a little bit of flesh poking out. “Like this?”

She bit her lower lip as she nodded. “Yeah, sweety. God, you are so much like your dad, it’s uncanny.”

I don’t know why I like it when she compares me to my real dad, but I loved hearing those words. I didn’t really know what I was doing with the bit of skin she called her clitoris, but after a few tries of touching it, she took my finger in her hand and showed me how to touch her. When she pulled back and left me to try again, she rewarded me with a high-pitched “Oh!”

I glanced at Mom and the look on her face left no doubt she was enjoying my finger. After another “Oh!” I pulled my finger back, “Mom, I had no idea you were so fucking hot. I mean, you’re incredible.”

Mom grinned at my profanity, not bothering to correct it. She rolled onto her side, facing away from me, “You want to cuddle for a bit, before lunch? I’m, uh, needing a bit of a catnap.”

The covers were down below our feet. I could see all of Mom’s back. Her naked butt was almost as sexy as her front. I wasn’t sure I bought her story about wanting a catnap. After all, if I was going to cuddle with her, that would put my erection poking against her butt, and I didn’t see how she could possibly sleep with me poking her ass.

Still, I happily rolled over and spooned her. My arm slipped around her body, cupping one of her boobs, while my penis poked against her butt. Mom wiggled her hips and said, “You’ll be more comfortable if you slide your penis between my legs, babe.”

I reached between us and pushed my penis down. I felt my glans touch the top of the crack between her cheeks and pushed down more, letting it slide down between her cheeks. I was about halfway down to where I thought she meant when Mom said, “That’s good babe. Push forward.”

When I pushed forward, I felt her butt cheeks against the top of my erection. It felt so much better without clothes. Then I moaned out loud when she wiggled her hips and pushed back against me. My penis slid forward, and I felt it drag across something hot and moist. I had touched her pussy with my dick!

I didn’t need to say anything. After all, I was doing what Mom wanted. She wiggled around a bit more and what little doubt that had existed about her wanting a catnap evaporated in my longing. I slid my other hand onto her other boob as I moved my hips, sliding my erection against the bottom of her pussy and butt. I hadn’t pushed my hips forward many times before my penis started sliding a lot easier as I felt it growing slick with something.

“Um, is it supposed to get wet?” I murmured.

Mom wiggled her butt and giggled, “Yeah, babe. That’s normal. You okay?”

The tingling was growing, and I wasn’t far from my point of no return. I said, “Yeah. I think I’m close, though.”

I wasn’t sure what Mom would want to do about that. Pull away? Let me finish on my own? She pushed back against me again and again, making me slide even faster. I squeezed my eyes shut as I pushed forward. My feelings exploded in my brain and in my penis as I spasmed against Mom’s butt. I felt my penis squirt my watery cum as it spasmed, once, twice, and three times. The rest of my spasms were dry, but I didn’t care. That cum had been the best yet. My brain was buzzing. Every time we did something new together, things were even better than before.

After a few more hip thrusts, Mom pulled away and said, “Probably not going to get that catnap.”

Then she gave me a devilish grin, “But I sure worked up a sweat. I’m going to get a shower before lunch. Do you… um, would you like to join me?”

Copyright 2022 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved

Life goes on – Part 3 Read More »

Life goes on – Part 2

Life goes on – Part 2
By
Caliboy1991

When I woke up later that morning, the sun was trying to peek through the curtains on my window. I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. It was after nine. The house was quiet. I got out of bed and went over to my door and looked out. The door to Mom’s bedroom was open and I could see her still on her side.

Worried, I went back into her room, “Mom? You awake?”

I had to repeat myself a few times before I heard, “Hmm? Jerry, is that…”

Her voice cracked as she rolled onto her back. Although she wasn’t crying, the grief in her eyes cut me deeply. “Todd.”

There was nothing else for several dozen heartbeats. Finally I said, “You want some breakfast? I can pour you some cereal.”

Her lips twisted, almost as though trying to turn the deep-set frown into something else. “Thanks, sweetie. You might want to put some clothes on first.”

I looked down and blushed. When I had gone to sleep in my own bed, I had stripped down to my gray and white boxer-briefs. I turned and hurried from the room, embarrassed. It had to have been at least two or three years since Mom had seen me in as little.

Clothed in shorts and a t-shirt, I returned with a couple of bowls of cereal. Mom had taken off the women’s suit jacket as well as the black pantyhose. She reclined against her pillow in the white, long-sleeved blouse and black skirt. Her face was puffy from all the crying.

While we ate, she said, “I guess we should clean up from yesterday. I’m sure the guests made a mess of everything.”

I had just come from there. I’d seen worse after some of Mom and Dad’s family get-to-gathers. But getting her up to do something, anything, was better than leaving her to mope all day long.

We cleaned the entire downstairs, vacuuming and mopping as needed. Lunch and dinner were from one of the casseroles. It was about six that evening when the doorbell chimed. I hurried to open it. I didn’t recognize the Hispanic woman standing there, but in slow Texas drawl, she said, “My husband, Juan worked with your daddy. I’m bringing over a platter of tamales for dinner.”

After taking the disposable dish from her, I closed the door as she walked away, wondering how many more meals Dad’s coworkers would bring.

Things were better tonight than last. At least at first. After dinner, Mom retreated to the bathroom. I heard the shower running for a bit, while I played on my PS5 in my room. I was just about to go knock on the bathroom door to see if she was alright, when the shower turned off and I heard her moving about. She spent the rest of the evening in her room until bedtime.

I kept my door open that night when I went to bed. And It was close to midnight when I heard hard-wracking sobs from Mom’s room. Worried, I pulled on my shorts and hurried into her room. Even though it was pitch black, I knew where she was and I climbed onto the bed, saying, “Mom, Mom, it’s okay. I’m here.”

Mom threw herself into my arms, pushing her face against my neck. I could feel the flannel nightgown that Jerry had bought her this past Christmas, rubbing against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, confused about what to say or do, so I did nothing but hold her.

As I held her, I realized something soft pushed through the fabric of Mom’s gown. I knew immediately what it was. After all, I’m a twelve-year-old boy and I’ve been very curious about some girls in my junior high for the better part of a year. I’d be lying if I told you I had never looked at Mom’s breasts through her clothes. After all, she was the one girl I saw every evening. But I had never considered touching them. Heaven forbid!

And I didn’t, not even now, as I felt her small mounds, now unrestrained by a bra, pressed against my chest. So, I ended up thinking about Mrs. Abernathy, my math teacher. She seemed like a hundred years old, and she was as mean as the day was long. If I hadn’t done that, I would have died of mortification if I had gotten a boner while Mom was hugging the front of my body.

Mom eventually let go of my neck and she lie back down, “Thanks, sweetie. I hate that I’m a fucking spigot, and can’t seem to turn off my eyes.”

Before then, the only time I heard my mom cuss had been when we were stuck in traffic and someone had cut her off. I said, “I don’t mind, Mom. I’ll stay in here.”

She rolled onto her side and I fell into place beside her, also on my side. This time, I pulled the covers up. Last night, falling asleep in my dress clothes, I hadn’t gotten terribly cold. But I was only wearing a pair of basketball shorts tonight. Mom took my hand in hers when I put it across her arm, and before long she was asleep.

I dozed off, but when I awoke. Just like before, Mom’s butt was pushed against my crotch. And just like last night, I was hard as a rock, my penis sliding against her backside. I felt dirty, knowing my man-parts had pushed against Mom’s woman-parts. And even though I knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault, I figured Mom would be even more embarrassed, and that was the last thing I wanted. I pulled my ass back, putting some space between my groin and Mom’s butt.

The next morning, I awoke to the sound of my alarm in my room. It took me a moment to figure out why. But then it dawned on me. Today was supposed to be my first day back at school. I slipped away from Mom, thankful she was still asleep, because at some point my groin and her backside had moved back together during the night.

When I got into the shower, I couldn’t ignore my erection any longer and as hot water sluiced down my body, I wrapped my fingers around my erection, stroking it and feeling the magical tingling that always came with touching myself. Still, I hadn’t jacked off since before Jerry’s death. Maybe I lasted a minute. But I doubt it. My vision dimmed as I felt my climax pulsating in my fist. A little blast of clear cum shot into the air, splattering on the shower stall floor. A couple of more clear drops flew out in subsequent spasms. This felt so much better now that I could actually cum. The first year after I learned about jacking off, it had been a lot of fun playing with myself, but since my penis began shooting a few clear drops of my boy-juice around Christmas, I was pretty sure, this was the best feeling ever.

Feeling more in control of myself now that my hormones weren’t messing me up as much, I finished getting dressed and then came back into Mom’s room. I knelt beside her, “Um, Mom, I gotta go back to school today. You going to be okay?”

I wondered if she heard me. Then she nodded. In a dead voice, she said, “Yeah.”

I hated leaving her home alone, but I didn’t have a choice.

I jumped to my feet, pumping my scrawny arms into the air as DeQuan sank the ball from the three-point line. It was about all I could do from the bench. Coach Brown was required to put me in each game, according to the UIL rules. But as one of three white boys on a team with seven black boys, with a black coach, I didn’t get to play more than that.

Copyright 2022 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved

Life goes on – Part 2 Read More »

Life goes on – Part 1

Life goes on – Part 1
By
Caliboy1991

I held my mom’s hand as another one of my dad’s co-workers said, “We’re so sorry for your loss. Jerry was a great guy. A real one-of-a-kind. He’ll be missed.

If there was anything good about the funeral, it was the weather. It was early March, and the temperature was in the lower sixties (18 C). Of course, the weather was also to blame for the funeral. There had been a freakish winter storm a week before, and my dad had been killed in an accident when his car had hit a patch of ice, sending him careening into a tree.

Mom had been on auto-pilot the past week, just going through the motions. She was still in shock. I couldn’t blame her. Jerry had been almost as good a step-dad as he had been a husband. He treated my mom like a queen. In fact, my earliest memories were a couple of years after he had married my mom. I was five, and it had been Valentines’ Day. Jerry started sending flowers over to the house in the morning. And every couple of hours, he would send over a bigger flower arrangement, until just before he was supposed to get home, he showed up with several dozen red roses for Mom.

Mom married him when she was eighteen and he was twenty-four. I was already three years old when they married, although I don’t recall the wedding. Just the fact that he treated me just like he would his own kids, if he and my mom had been able to have any. Because of Jerry, I never missed or was curious about my real dad.

The minister from the funeral home put a hand on Mom’s arm, “Becky, let’s get you and Todd over to our limo. We’ll get you folks home so you’ll be ready for the reception.”

I put my arm around Mom’s shoulders and helped her toward the black limousine. The minister held her other hand and once we got her into the back seat, the minister closed the door and patted me on the shoulder, “Your mom is blessed to have a fine son like you, Todd. Things are going to be rough for a bit for her, just be patient with her and eventually the days will get a little brighter with time.”

I felt myself flush at the compliment and mumbled a thanks. At twelve, I wasn’t used to talking to adults who weren’t my basketball coach or my teachers, or my parents. Perhaps the minister thought I was older. I was one of the taller boys on my seventh-grade basketball team, just short of five-six (165 cm). I felt like I towered over my mom’s five-foot frame (152 cm), although I could just barely see over the top of her head. Of course, since the beginning of the sixth grade, I’ve grown eleven inches (28 cm).

I went around to the other side and climbed into the back of the limo and settled in next to Mom. We didn’t say anything. What was there to say? Jerry was dead and our lives would never be the same. Even though the reception was at our house, my dad’s co-workers put it together it. There were bottles of booze in the kitchen and lots of food. And after getting mom settled onto the couch, I grabbed her a plate of food and a short glass of some whiskey. It’s funny, nobody said anything about me pouring a shot of alcohol. And when I sat down beside my mom, I glanced over to the folks in the kitchen and none of them even gave me a second look.

I held the plate on my lap and put food into Mom’s hand every once in a while. She was mechanical, raising her hand to her mouth periodically, taking a bite, or lifting the liquor to her lips and taking an occasional sip. After an hour of this, Janet, my mom’s sister, came over and sat beside her and I took the opportunity to get up and stretch my legs and get something to eat for myself. I hung out in the kitchen, snagging a few sandwiches as I people watched.

There were a few women in the kitchen, all secretaries at where my dad had worked. They were quietly talking. The one time I listened in on them, I heard one of them say tampon, and pretty quickly tuned them out. After eating, I glanced over at the women and then back into our living room. Everyone was whispering. I grabbed one of the glasses by the bottles of liquor and poured myself the same stuff I had poured for mom earlier and headed toward my room.

The door was closed behind me before I took a sip of the fiery liquid. Once, at the beginning of the year, Demarcus, the star of our basketball team, had brought a flask of whiskey to school and all the boys on the team had taken a sip. This stuff was just as potent as it burned my throat going down. But it was also smoother, and it didn’t burn quite as much. I took a few more sips until I had drained the glass. The warmth in my stomach spread until I felt it even on my cheeks. It made the terrible ache in my heart hurt a little less than before.

But after a bit, it also made me have to pee. Our house was two stories. The lower level had all the rooms except for the bedrooms. My bathroom was down on the first floor, while the master bath was between my bedroom and my parents. I had no interest in going back down and mingling with people as long as Mom’s sister was with her. So, I went into her bathroom and locked the door before remembering to raise the lid on the toilet. The last thing I wanted to do was piss off my mom with a wet seat.

I left the black dress belt fastened and unzipped the slacks and pulled my underwear down enough to pull my penis out. Every boy grows at their own pace and in their own way. As I stood there, holding my two inches and waiting for my plumbing to turn on, I wondered why my body was so out of whack. I was the tallest white boy on our basketball team. Yet, in the showers, it was bad enough to be the only boy without hair number one downstairs, but I was also the smallest. When soft, I was about two inches. God, I hated showers after basketball practice.

When I came out of the bathroom, I saw my Aunt Janet’s head peaking over the lip of the stairs. “Oh, there you are, Todd. Most everyone’s leaving. I’ve got to get home too. Give your mom a bit of time and she’ll be fine. She’s a real trooper.”

I came back downstairs. She was right. Most of Dad’s coworkers had gone. But they had been kind enough to leave a half-dozen bottles of half-empty booze; most of it top shelf quality. Mom was just where I had left her, sitting on the couch, while my aunt and her husband made an effort to give her hugs before leaving.

Mom had never been a heavy drinker before. Neither had Jerry. They might drink a bottle of wine every month or so. And a bottle of whiskey might stay in the cabinet for a year or two. Still, I grabbed the alcohol and stashed it on the top shelf of our cabinet, out of Mom’s reach. I felt numb. I had just lost the man I called Dad, and I had kept the grief away by compartmentalizing things. Mom was barely functioning at all, and I’ve seen enough things on TV and online that I worried she might crawl into a bottle to deal with the deep and intense pain she felt.

The minister from the funeral home was the last person to leave. From the front door, he pointed toward the kitchen, “I left you and your mom a couple of plates of food. There’s plastic wrap over the tops. Just put them in the microwave when you get hungry. There are a couple of casseroles in the fridge too.”

I mumbled my thanks.

He squeezed my shoulder, “It’s tough, kid. And the numbness will wear off in a few days, and y’all will hurt like nothing else. But there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. That’s when it gets easier.”

He ran his hand through graying hair and gave a loud, unhappy sigh. Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small flask. He unscrewed it and took a sip. His eyes winced as he swallowed, “I know. Ministers aren’t supposed to do this. But all I do is bury people, and sometimes it really sucks. The only thing worse than burying young men like your daddy, is when I have to bury children. You’re young and you’ll bounce back first. It’ll be hard, but you need to be there for your momma. I’ve seen a lot of widows, kid, and she’s deeper into her despair than most.”

I nodded. I didn’t know what to say. I took his hand when he offered it and then closed and locked the door behind him. Mom hadn’t moved. I came over and resumed sitting beside her. I slid my arm around her. I didn’t know what to say, so I just sat and held her until she finally stirred as the light outside slowly faded and the room darkened.

Her voice was quiet, just a whisper, “What am I going to do without you, Jerry?”

“I’m here, Mom. You’re not alone.”

She rested her head on my shoulder. A moment later I felt wetness on my oxford dress shirt. She was silently crying. With my arm around her shoulders, I pulled her against me. By the time her silent tears finally stopped, the room was nearly dark.

“Is there anything to eat?” she murmured?

“Yeah. Let’s go into the kitchen and eat. I can warm it up for you,” I said as I let go of Mom and stood, offering her my hand.

Her sigh was heavy, even painful. But she took my hand and climbed to her feet. She shuffled her feet over to the bar that separated the kitchen proper from the dining room. Whenever it had just been me or her, or me and Jerry, we would eat dinner at the bar. But when it had been all three of us, we sat in the dining room, around the table.

She climbed onto the bar stool and I warmed up the two plates and joined her. We ate in silence. I didn’t know where her head was, but figured she was still in shock. All I could do was be there for her. Afterward, I took her by the hand and led her to the stairs. I had to help her up each step and once I got her to her bedroom, she grabbed my arm, her fingernails digging into it, “Don’t go, Todd. I can’t do this.”

I wasn’t sure what ‘this’ was, but I guided her to her bed and she sat down on it. She was frail and lost. In all my twelve and a half years, I had never known her to be anything but petite. And even now, as a twenty-seven-year-old widow, I doubt she breaks the scale at one-oh-five (48 kg). And now, as she teared up again, you’d be forgiven for thinking she was half her age.

I knelt down beside her and slid the black low-rise heels from her dainty feet. Then I helped her lie down on what had always been her side of the bed. Before I could move, her fingers reached out, gripping my wrist, “Stay in here. I can’t stand the thought of being alone.”

I nodded, “Okay.”

I slipped my dress shoes off and climbed into the bed on Jerry’s side. Mom rolled onto her side, facing away from me. I could hear the sobs again, and it broke my heart to see her in such a state. I slid over next to her and rolled over, resting my chest against her back and sliding my arm around her. I whispered, “I’m here for you.”

Ever since the cops showed up and told us about Jerry’s death, I have been bundling thing up inside me, compartmentalizing my emotions. But lying on my side, listening to Mom mourn, I let the grief wash over me too. I fell asleep crying my eyes out, holding the woman who had given birth to me as she wept herself to sleep.

It was pitch dark when I woke up. My eyes were itchy and my throat was dry. I heard deep, slow breathing coming from Mom. She hadn’t moved an inch since I had cuddled with her, my big spoon to her small one. Although with only a five-inch (13cm) difference in height, I’m not much of a big spoon. My arm was still draped over her arms and her body was molded against mine.

And I realized then I had two problems. The first, I had to pee. The second, I was as hard as I could be in my dress pants. Worse, Mom’s backside pressed against my crotch, and I felt incredibly uncomfortable when I realized against what my pent-up erection was pressed.

I shifted my hips, moving back, and then when I was a few inches away, I drew back my arm and crawled to the end of the bed while Mom slept through it all. Barefoot, I slipped out and went into the bathroom. I closed the door and unzipped my dress pants and fished out my penis. Some guys are showers. Whether soft or hard, there’s not much difference between the length of their penis. Others, like me, are growers. My little two inches was now a full four inches. Thankfully, I have never been erect in the showers after basketball practice. But I was under no illusion. Even my four inches was below average for the guys I showered with after practice.

It took a bit before I could pee, but once done, I felt better and my little nail had returned to its noodle size. It was almost four in the morning and as much as I love my mom, I wanted to get some better sleep, so I went into my bedroom and undressed and climbed into my bed. My head hit the pillow, and I was out.

Copyright 2022 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved

Life goes on – Part 1 Read More »

Lockdown – Chapter 5

Lockdown – Chapter 5
By
Caliboy1991

Dre

It was like holding Chase all over again. Instead of the errant strands of pubic hair at the base of a thickening young teenage penis, my fingers played with Jax’s four smooth and hard inches. The base of his penis was smooth, with no sign of pubic hair. His balls were smooth, like his father’s, but smaller than the grape sized balls I remembered.

All thoughts of tickling my son’s belly or ribs were gone. Jax was solely focused on touching my exposed breasts. After I became pregnant with my son, I waited impatiently for my breasts to swell, as was common. But for whatever reason, they remained small throughout my pregnancy. Even after Jax was born, my breasts stayed the same size they were at fifteen. I suppose I could have packed on another seventy pounds, just to see if the little lime-shaped boobs would get bigger, but I wasn’t that desperate for jugs, just so men would look a second time at my chest.

And Jax evidently had no problem with my small chest. Each hand cupped a breast that seemed tailor-made to fit within the contours of his palm.

When I looked at Jax, massaging my breasts, I saw in his eyes the heady realization we were doing things few mothers do with their sons. Although, I suspect the number of women who seduce or are seduced by their sons is far higher than people are willing to admit. He sighed as he pulled his hands off my tits, saying, “Slave, we can play the tickling game some more later. Let’s go watch TV.”

I think I understood him. Had we continued, we were heading toward deeper water in uncharted territory. Just like Chase at fourteen, Jax at twelve was uncertain of himself. I crammed my own uncertainties and doubts into a deep recess of my mind. I couldn’t handle any thoughts except that I was my son’s slave, for him to have his way with me. Anything else would interfere. So, I waited, and he ordered me to put my shirt back on and join him in the living room, watching the show we started last night.

After lunch, which I happily prepared after coaxing another command from him, I settled back on the couch and snuggled against his bare chest as we watched more of the series. We really did make a day of it, although I made sure Jax knew the game was still going and he was still my master. We even ordered Chinese takeout. While every restaurant on the island was closed, at least for dine-in, delivery drivers, with their surgical masks covering their faces, made a killing delivering food to everyone who was shut in.

When the doorbell rang, I said, “Master, the food is here. What is your command?”

Jax, still in just his boxers, said, “Slave, would you please get it?”

Just like Chase before him, Jax frequently fell back into asking instead of ordering. It was that part of him that knew this was just a game and that his mom still had feelings that mattered. I never entirely broke Chase of that endearing charm, even though I wanted him to dominate me in every way. I suspected Jax would be very much like his father.

The look on the Hispanic guy at our door, when I opened it in nothing more than my cut-off top and very short yoga shorts was priceless. Even though my breasts were small, that didn’t stop his eyes from roving over every inch of exposed skin. I suspect if not for the blue mask covering his face, I would have seen him leering at me. I paid for the food, took it, and closed the door without a word. Something else from that time with Chase came back to me. What I had, such as it was, wasn’t for anyone else but my son. I took my mask off and took the bag into the living room, where we ate dinner while binging the show.

After cleaning off the boxes and putting the leftovers in the fridge, I came back and settled next to Jax, putting my arm around his shoulder and resting my head against the side of his chest. Wordlessly, he responded by sliding an arm behind my back and letting me snuggle against him. When the episode ended, he said, “Um, mom, when you were playing with Chase, Dad, how long did your game last?”

I put a hand on his chest, “It depended on how much time we had. That first time, our game lasted well into the night. Other times, we managed a few hours. You’re not tiring of it, are you?”

Jax shook his head, “What? Tired of it? No. It’s just really different. I mean, you’d do whatever I order you to do. It’s really weird.”

I rubbed his chest, “Yeah. That’s why it’s a game. We’re turning everything up on its end. Normally, as your mom, I’m the one telling you what to do. But in the game, you’re in charge. It helped Chase to be more assertive, and it taught me how I much I loved having him dominate me.”

“What do you mean be dominate?”

My fingers stopped rubbing his chest, and I held them there. To explain that to Jax would be a big deal. It was to bare my innermost desires from my time with his father. “I wanted him to own me, sweetie.”

I could see the surprise in his face, “Own, like a slave?”

I smiled, “It’s in the name of the game. Right?”

“Oh, yeah. Master and slave. But to own you, that would mean he could have done anything he wanted.”

My fingers massaged Jax’s chest, finding a tiny, flat nipple and encircling it. “Yeah. Anything.”

Jax was processing a lot, despite the distraction on his chest, “Anything. Wow. Did that mean he ordered you to do a lot of um-, ah-, you know, sex stuff?”

I chuckled, letting my fingers track down to his smooth stomach, “Oh, yeah. That was half the fun of the game. Because he preferred boys to girls, sometimes the game was as much about getting him to do stuff so that he was the one giving the orders. Of course, toward the end, he enjoyed being in charge and he became good at making me feel dominated.”

Jax shifted and tried to be inconspicuous as he adjusted himself. That’s when I noticed the tent in his boxers. He said, “And when we’re playing the game, you really are okay with me, um, dominating you?”

I lifted my head from his shoulder and turned his head toward me and kissed his lips again. The tingly current running through my body right then made everything seem right with the world, even though the world was being wracked by a virus from China and everyone was huddling at home, trying to be safe. When I pulled my lips away from my son’s, I said, “Yes, my love.”

I kissed him again and let my free hand return to his belly, rubbing it and working my way down to the band of his boxers, sending as clear a message as possible about how I wanted him to dominate me.

When the kiss ended this time, l looked into my son’s eyes, “Master.”

His lips curled into a smile as he murmured, “Slave.”

I wanted to touch his penis again. To feel its heat against my hand. But I needed Jax in control. This was like the frustration I sometimes felt with Chase, whose natural passive tendency created a lot of the tension in our games. Finally, I said, “Master, you seem trapped in the confines of your boxers. Do you want me to help?”

If he said yes, then it was his command. There would be time to train him to assert himself. After a long moment, Jax nodded, “Um, yeah. S-, slave, please.”

My fingers moved to the fly and snaked through the cloth flaps until I felt the warmth of Jax’s thin erection. Spreading the fly apart, I pulled on him until his four inches were no longer trapped. He was perfect. His small, flared glans rested perfectly above the slightly darker skin of his circumcision, which perfectly balanced the glans from the rest of his cylindrical shaft.

As my fingers traced around his glans, I enjoyed playing with the edge of his helmeted head while another finger pressed against the small opening of his urethra. When I pulled my finger away, I saw a bit of moisture on the tip of my index finger. Rubbing it against another finger revealed a slickness that could only be Jax’s pre-cum. Perhaps he was more like Chase than his smooth skin promised.

Using my thumb and forefinger, I tenderly took hold of his shaft. The heat radiating from him warmed my hand and sent tingling tendrils through my body. Slowly, I slid my fingers up and down his shaft, lightly tugging at his skin.

Jax moaned wordlessly and leaned his head back against my arm. He showed his pleasure as his hips pushed against my hand, trying to hump my fingers as I kept lightly stroking him. I knew the pleasure building wouldn’t last long. Especially not the first time. I discarded the idea of stopping. I wanted to feel Jax’s orgasm, to see if he could make the same elixir I loved to take from Chase’s erupting cock.

After a minute or two, a strangled note came from Jax, “Arggh!”

And his penis spasmed in my hand as his body shook. I kept working my fingers over his erection, watching it jolt around my active fingers, still stroking, still teasing his cock.

After the eighth or was it the tenth spasm, a tiny clear drop oozed from Jax’s slit. And, still, his little rod kicked about while his body kept shuddering from his orgasm. With my index finger, I let loose of his shaft long enough to swipe it over the tip of his glans, taking the clear pearl and using its small amount as lube.

His moan was loud enough, I worried about disturbing our neighbors, “AHH!”

Jax threw his hands behind his head, where he interlaced his fingers, all the while his body shook from the constant spasms. He squeezed his eyes shut against the painful pleasure continually wracking his body until I finally relented, having lost track of the number of times his cock had dry ejaculated. I’d never seen anything like that. Not even with Chase. When the fourteen-year-old came, a few shots of his milky elixir would blast out, followed by a few more spasms, and that would be it.

Jax though barely seemed conscious as his penis finally stopped twitching several seconds after I stopped masturbating him. I touched his cheek, “Sweetie, Jax, you okay?”

His eyes fluttered open. He was breathless, “Oh, yeah. Wow.”

My son’s penis mesmerized me. He had kept on orgasming for as long as I stimulated him. I’d never heard of a man, let alone a boy, doing that.

“Is it always that intense, Jax, um, Master?” I asked.

He shook his head, “Your touch is better than mine. Oh, God, that felt…wow.”

“When you do it yourself, sweetie, do you keep on cumming until you stop jacking off?”

He nodded, “Yeah. Pretty cool. When Jason showed me how to do it, he was super jealous.”

“I bet so. So, what now, Master?”

His eyes shot open, realizing the game continued. “Oh? You’re still my slave?”

I kissed his cheek, “Of course, Master.”

***

Jax

My body was still on fire even after Mom brought me to the most incredible cum ever. My dick was still poking into the air. Of course, that wasn’t uncommon. Some days, I’ve been so horny that I could jack off several times in a row. This was, I figured, one of those times.

Mom still wanted to play, and I was still the master. She had shown me by bringing me to an incredible orgasm that nothing was off limits. Still, it was a bit crazy. “Um, Mom, you’d really let me do anything I want with you?”

She nodded, “Sweetie, I trust you. I know you won’t order me to do something dangerous, so yeah. I’m yours to do with as you please… Master.”

Curious about how far we could take this game, I said, “Tomorrow?”

She nodded, “Yeah. If you want.”

“What about next week?”

Still nodding, Mom said, “Well, we should probably agree to keep it to after school and work, don’t you think?”

The endless possibilities this presented sent a tingling sensation down my spine, “You know, if you want to be the master, I can be the slave.”

She offered me a grin, “I figured you wouldn’t mind trading roles. But for now, Master, I am your loving slave.”

Marveling at this, I wondered if I even needed the commands. Testing this, I stood and took her by the hand and pulled her toward the hallway. She followed, a curious smile on her features. When we passed by my room, her smile widened.

I opened her bedroom door and came over to her bed. I have always been jealous of her big king-sized bed. I sat on the edge and patted the spot next to me. Mom dutifully sat. I put my arm around her waist and leaned my face toward hers. She turned, offering her lips. I leaned forward the rest of the way until I felt her warm, moist lips on mine. The mechanics of the kiss weren’t any different from those she had given me when I was a lot younger. But it still felt different. Then I realized. It was because I kissed her instead of her kissing me. I was the Master.

When I ended this kiss, I didn’t move back. Instead, I put my hand on her stomach and moved it upward, sliding it under her shirt until I found her breasts. I felt the power of the moment and I cupped one of her boobs, gently squeezing it until a gasp of pleasure escaped Mom’s lips.

I stood up long enough to come around to stand in front of Mom and I reached over and grabbed the ragged hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, revealing for a second time her small, gorgeous breasts.

The look she gave me told me the game didn’t always require commands. She really was mine to do with as I pleased. As gently as possible, I pushed her down on the bed. She stopped me only long enough for her to lie lengthways along the bed.

Then I straddled her waist and put my hands on her breasts again, massaging and playing with them. Mom loved it, moaning as I pinched one nipple or the other. She reached down and placed her hand on my exposed dick. So focused on her, I had forgotten to put it away after she made me dry cum earlier.

While I couldn’t ignore her hand on me, I wanted to give her pleasure, so I leaned forward until my face was over her breasts and then I took one of them in my mouth, sucking on the small, erect nipple. My tongue went to work on it, racing around the eraser-sized protrusion. She moaned, “Oh, baby, yeah.”

I lavished attention on both of her boobs until my mouth was a bit chapped. Mom even grabbed my head at one point and pulled me deeper onto her tit as I put as much of it as I could manage into my mouth.

Mom stopped touching my dick long enough to tuck me back inside my boxers before pushing the flannel cloth down to my thighs. She tugged her shorts down a couple of inches, just enough for my dick to touch her lower abdomen, skin-to-skin.

Her arms wrapped around my back as I kept licking and suckling on Mom’s boobs. When I finally sat upright, she looked up at me, a pleased look on her face. She murmured, “Master is pleased?”

“Very, slave.”

The fantasies I used just a day earlier to jack off to, had nothing on what I now experienced. Even though I was still coming to terms with what Mom had meant when she told me she was entirely and completely mine, I suspected by the time we both fell asleep, we would never be able to go back.

I inched back until my butt rested on Mom’s thighs, leaving her short, black yoga shorts exposed. Even though she had pulled it down an inch or two in front, it still kept her secret parts covered. I put my hands on her stomach and looked into her eyes. The look she gave me left no doubt her secrets were mine to explore.

My hands found the hem of Mom’s shorts and ever so slowly tugged at them. The first inch revealed smooth skin. Living on Staten Island, just like me, her skin was pale, no tan-line between the soft skin of her stomach and her lower abdomen. I tugged, exposing another inch. My hands were on her pubic mound. She was smooth where I expected to see the beginning of pubic hair. Running my fingertips over the skin, I felt fine bumps where stubble would come in after a few more days. It stunned me at the revelation she had shaved her pubic hair. And left me very aroused.

I tugged another inch. There were a few spots where I could feel the tiniest hint of stubble. The thrumming in my belly at touching so intimate a spot on my mom only added to my arousal. I pulled on the shorts another inch. At the very bottom of that revealed spot, a slight indention appeared. There were tiny bumps across the area, evidence of Mom’s freshly shaven pubes. I tugged just a little bit. The indention became a small slit. Another tug and the slit became a gash as Mom’s labia came into view.

I gasped aloud. I was staring at my mom’s pussy lips. Even though I had nothing against which to compare them, they looked exquisite to my twelve-year-old eyes. With the way I was sitting on her thighs, my dick was just a few inches away. It twitched involuntarily, so close to what nature created it for.

I wanted to ask permission to touch her. But that’s not how the game was played. I slipped a finger between the lips of her labia, enjoying Mom’s pleasured gasp. I couldn’t help but look up at her as I felt a raised bump under the hood of skin at the slit’s opening.

She gave me a look of unbridled lust. She wanted me. Oh, my God. Mom WANTED me! That look told me exactly what she wanted and where she wanted it.

I had never touched a girl, let alone a woman. Every sensation was new to me, and even though I knew Mom wanted me to dominate her, I was flying blind, going only with what I have seen in porn videos Jason and I had watched online. I shifted my legs, spreading them wider, as I pointed my dick at the slash between Mom’s legs. When it touched the outer lips of her labia, something within those lips made the tip of my dick slick. As I pushed forward, the outer lips spread open and my head disappeared into the slit before nudging against her inner labia, which was even wetter. I grabbed my shaft and moved it toward Mom’s backside, only stopping when she gasped. By some fate or miracle, I had stumbled upon her vagina.

In that moment, groaned, “Put it in me, baby. Fuck your slave.”

I’ve heard mom swear before, but there was something incredibly naughty hearing her tell me to fuck her. It took my arousal to a new high, and I shifted my body forward until I felt my head push through a tight opening, becoming entrapped within the walls of her pussy.

She moaned wordlessly, and I got the implied message. The heat of her body, the fluids coating my erection, were enough and when I pushed, I sank all four inches into her without intending to be so quick.

“Oh, fuck!” Mom moaned when my pelvis pushed against hers. My mind was on fire. This morning, Mom had jacked me off to an incredibly powerful and long orgasm. The sensation on my dick made this morning pale in comparison. Then, as I recalled the porn videos I’d watched with Jason, I pulled back, almost sliding out of her cavern before pushing all the way back in, mingling my groan with Mom’s.

The tingling from with the base of my dick confirmed I was doing something right as I rocked my hips back and forth, sliding in and out of Mom’s pussy. The moans escaping her lips told me I wasn’t the only one enjoying things. It wasn’t too tricky for me to find a rhythm in my thrusts that let the tingling gradually grow, becoming a bit more pronounced with each passing moment. Perhaps three, maybe four minutes passed since penetrating her hole when that orgasmic wave hit me and my dick shuddered insider her. Another spasm wracked my dick and spread out across my body. Another spasm and the orgasm shook my entire body. With each successive spasm, my dick twitched, trying to send my semen deep within Mom’s womb. If only I had any.

My dick didn’t stop shuddering, ejaculating empty shots. After thirty or more spasms, Mom’s legs gripped my back as she arched her back, “Ahhh, Fuck!”

As new to this as I was, I still recognized her orgasm for what it was and despite my body’s continual cumming, I felt more aroused as her pussy shook around my dick.

Mom leaned forward, throwing her arms around my neck, her own body shuddering even more than I shook. “Oh baby, I’m cumming! D-, don’t stop!”

My next spasm hit me hard, and my vision dimmed as even bigger fireworks inside my brain exploded. Again, I slid deep inside her, my balls slapping against Mom’s ass. My dick kept jerking, dry firing for the umpteenth time.

In and out, an intense spasm as my body dry ejaculated again. My vision became dimmer as the fireworks inside my head threatened to overwhelm me.

I pushed in again and my mom’s arms slid from around my back and her knees unlocked. Her head fell back as her eyes rolled backward. I pushed in again and spasmed once more. The explosion in my head was the last thing I remembered.

***

Dre

There was something heavy laying across my body when I felt light dancing across my face. When I opened my eyes, I saw gray light poking through the tiny gaps in my blinds. My alarm clock confirmed it was early; barely six-thirty.

The heavy weight on me brought back last night’s memories. The heavy weight was Jax. And he was as nude as me. I had lost consciousness from the most intense orgasm in my twenty -eight years and took my son’s virginity in the process.

As I became more awake, I realized I had raped my son. My twelve-year-old son. What kind of woman fucks her own son?

I wanted to slide away, not wake him. I needed time to think. What had I been thinking?

I sucked in a deep breath, counted to ten. Then Chase came unbidden into my thoughts. Jax looked so much like Chase had all those years before. What Chase and I found had been special. Why couldn’t this be just as special?

After all, it wasn’t any different that what I had shared with Jax’s dad. Was it? Then, as I replayed the events, I rationalized, I hadn’t initiated sex with Jax. No, it was his choice. He had taken me. My son had chosen to have sex with me. Part of me rebelled against this line of thought. But after a brief struggle, I locked the voice away. It wasn’t a voice I cared to listen to, and it certainly wouldn’t help me get through the day.

Jax had done it. He had dominated me last night. He had taken me and in doing so, had given me an orgasm unlike anything I had ever imagined possible. How many women actually go unconscious from the power of their orgasms? And it had happened to me! To me! It was both scary and exhilarating to think of Jax dominating me again.

And what about my son’s orgasms? God in heaven, I did not know it was even possible for a man or boy to keep orgasming beyond the normal half-dozen or so ejaculations until I saw it with my own eyes when I masturbated him.

Now that I had calmed down and put aside thoughts of the police breaking down my door, I could think more clearly about yesterday. Jax was more responsive to my suggestions than Chase had been at first. And he had dominated me last night, taking what he wanted. And I loved every bit of it. I hoped today would be more of the same, because I longed to feel his boyish penis inside me. The next time would be even better as Jax took everything he learned from our first time and applied it.

I must have moved as I thought things through. There was pressure between my legs, where Jax’s penis rested. A bit more pressure confirmed my son’s penis wasn’t exactly resting anymore. His morning wood had arrived, and I shifted my body enough to close my legs, trapping his erection between my legs.

There was a stirring on my chest as Jax mumbled, “I was afraid it had all been a dream.”

I wrapped my arms around my son’s back, “No dream, my love. Last night really happened.”

Jax pushed himself up a bit until he looked down at my face, “Wow. We really, um, had sex?”

His penis between my legs, only a couple of inches away from my vagina, I was already growing wet “Yes, Master. You were very good. Now, about today, what is your command?”

Copyright 2021 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved

Lockdown – Chapter 5 Read More »

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