Getting What I Deserved

"You're not a piece of meat, Mom."

"Thanks, but that's not the kind of compliment I'm talking about."

"Oh, right. Thanks Mom. OK. I really like fucking you mom."

"Better. But you can do better too."

"I like your body. You're good in bed. When I'm inside you, it feels like we're sort of made for one another."

"I know what you mean."

"We just fit really well. Is that true for most people, or do you feel it's different because of who we are?"

"It's often true, but it definitely feels true for the two of us."

"OK, I know it's also not the compliment you want to hear, but can I say thanks?"

"Thanks for what?"

"Thanks for letting me fuck you. Most moms won't do that. I know lots of other moms out there who have their faults and who drive their kids crazy. Now maybe they're not as batshit crazy as you are mom, but they'd never admit their faults, and never try to make it up to their kids."

"Thanks for thanking me. But you still need work on your compliments."

"I guess my having another hardon isn't a compliment either."

"You're young and horny. I kind of like that. It's a great stage of life. But we just fucked, and I'd like to get some sleep. Is that OK?"

"Sure."

I ignored my erection and went to sleep myself. It wasn't that hard.

I had told Mom about my conversation with Grandma. She sat silently, blinking with her eyes large. "That's not the way I understood things at all," she said. "I thought I was bad, I was evil, for letting her boyfriend photograph me naked, and touch me, and for ruining their relationship. I've beaten myself up all my life for that." She was near tears. I reached out to hold her hand, but she ran out of the room. I thought about following her, but shrugged. Later, I heard her on the phone with Grandma.

In the morning, I awoke to find Mom already riding my hard cock. I don't know what she had done to get me and herself ready, but she was already bouncing up and down pretty actively. Though she had awoken me to a few blowjobs, this was the first time I woke up fucking, and just about the only time she had initiated a fuck without me giving the orders.

"Enjoy yourself," I said inwardly. But at the same time, I was leary. The thought occurred to me that she was thanking me for telling her about my conversation with Grandma. But I also thought she had something up her sleeve. So to speak. I mean, she was naked, so literally she didn't actually have a sleeve.

"What's up, Mom?" I asked.

"Your big hard cock?" she said, as if she weren't sure.

"I guess so." She rode me, doing all the work. And then she stopped.

"Griffey, I have a surprising piece of news."

"What is it, Mom?"

"I don't know how you'll take it. I...I...I'll just tell you. You know how I said I couldn't get pregnant? And how I'd make sure we'd be safe? Well, I don't really know how it happened. I guess I must have skipped some pills. But I just found out. I am pregnant."

She looked down at me, waiting for me to say something. All my old suspicions joined up with the new ones I already were harboring. But I could see she was looking at me like this was a test. If I said the wrong thing, whammo, I'd be in trouble. But I had another suspicion as well. After several honest conversations, mom was reverting to her old ways. And I immediately came up with a solution for that.

"Mom, I'm very disappointed that you went off the pill without talking to me first. But if you're pregnant and want to have my baby, that'd be great."

Mom's eyes welled up. "Oh, my baby," she said, and kissed me hard on the lips.

That was unusual too. We didn't do a lot of kissing, and almost no kissing that was emotionally based. In a way, it felt weirder to have Mom's tongue in my mouth than it did for me to have my cock in her pussy. And she rooted around in my mouth like she was trying to find a lost filling.

I grabbed Mom by the hips, and rolled her right over. I disengaged her lips, and pulled back my face. "I have an admission too, Mom," I said.

She looked up at me, expectantly. I fucked in to her a few times, just to keep my cock hard, and to remind her who was in control.

"What?"

"How far along are you?"

"I don't know. Probably around six weeks."

"That's great. Because Drieka is also pregnant around six weeks. That means you'll have your babies around the same time."

"WHAT???" Mom shrieked. She struggled to get up from under me, but I kept us locked in place.

"YOU'RE FUCKING YOUR SISTER THE SAME TIME YOU'RE FUCKING ME? SHE'S ONLY 14 YEARS OLD!"

"Actually, she's 15, Mom."

"SHE'S 15 AND HAS HER WHOLE LIFE IN FRONT OF HER!"

"Yeah, well, she was jealous of us, and she wanted to know what it was like.'

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE FUCKING YOUR SISTER!" She kept trying to wiggle out from under me, but I had her in a position she couldn't get out of. I continued to fuck her.

"NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!" she insisted, to no avail.

Her thrashing was pretty exciting, and I blasted off deep into her cunt, then collapsed on top of her.

"No, Griffey, tell me you didn't get Drieka pregnant!"

"I didn't get Drieka pregnant."

"No, for real, tell me you didn't get her pregnant."

"I didn't get her pregnant."

"For real?"

"For real."

"Then why'd you tell me you did?"

"Why did you tell me you're pregnant?"

"Because...Oh."

"You're not pregnant, are you, Mom?"

"No."

"Then why'd you say so?"

"I just wanted to know what your reaction would be."

"And what was my reaction?"

"You were loving and said you'd accept the child."

"Any other reaction?"

"What do you mean?"

"My real reaction was to tell you I had gotten Drieka pregnant. Which of course was a lie, since Drieka finds what we do repugnant, and she hates me and you. But you're very gullible, Mom, and you're also a bad liar."

"I'm sorry, Griffey. I see. I shouldn't have done that."

"Yeah, Mom. But you know what? I actually really enjoyed that."

Mom put on her maximum unhappy face and got out of bed. She picked up her clothes, shaking her head, and walked to the shower.

"Griffey, do you love me?"

"Do you love me?"

"I love you so much, but you hurt me so much."

"Mom. I love you and I hate you. And sometimes it's hard to say which is which. You've made me into who I am today. And I love and hate myself."

"I feel that way about myself too, but I just love you."

"I think if you're honest with yourself, Mom, you'll see that you hate me too."

She looked down. "Maybe. But I want to love you, and I'm trying my best."

"Thanks, Mom. I want to love you too. And I believe our fucking is helping with that. But when you play games, or don't do things you're supposed to, it brings out the hate."

"Oh, Griffey!" She ran over to the bed, dropping the dress she had been holding. She bent over and kissed me hard on the mouth again. "Let's be nice to one another."

"Mmglb," I responded into her mouth. I mangled her breasts as she used her tongue to fuck mine.

"Sixty-nine," I said, pulling her back down to the bed. She crawled away from me, and starting quickly sucking on my still hard, wet cock.

I pulled her pussy onto my lips. They were wet too, from her lubrication, but also from the load I had so recently deposited there. The mutual action felt like we were one being, strangely joined, but with one purpose in mind.

I felt orgasm after orgasm washing over her, and her juices coated my face. Meantime, Mom was manipulated my balls, as she took my cock deep down her throat. Without warning, I shot, and Mom gasped as she glugged it down. I kept on thrusting my tongue into her pussy, and she gave me one more shot as well.

We disengaged and sat up.

"That was intense," I said.

"I could really feel your love for me," she said.

I didn't correct her.

Chapter 17

"Griffey, I want to ask you a favor."

"What, mom?"

"This may sound a little sick."

"I don't mind."

"I want you to look at some photos."

"How is that sick?"

"They're photos of me. When I was 13."

"OK."

I sat down on the couch. Mom had a box I remember seeing in the attic in front of her.

"You know what photos these are?"

She hadn't shown them to me. "No."

"These are the photos my stepfather took of me."

"You mean the guy your mom was in love with, but who then abused you?"

"Yes. I talked with your grandmother, and I found out more about him. I...I...I'm starting to understand better what was going on."

"What's that?"

"I always blamed myself for ruining my mother's life. For bringing her such unhappiness. It's made me think that I'm a bringer of unhappiness, and that's my role in life. I've been punishing myself ever since. But now I'm starting to realize that's not true. Did I ever tell you how my mom and dad met?"

"No."

"They were both abused by priests. When they found that out about each other, that made them come together. They had a shared hatred of priests and religion. But they had almost nothing else in common. So after they gave birth to me, they split up. They never really told me why they were divorcing, and I blamed myself. Then my mother had a series of boyfriends, and they never worked out. Finally, she had this guy, who she almost married. But then she found out he was coming on to me, and taking photos of me naked, even though I was still just a girl. And she got rid of him, and cried for weeks after. Again, I thought it was all my fault."

"How do you have the photos?"

"I found where he was hiding them. We never had actual sex together. But he'd talk me into showing him my boobs, or getting naked, and he'd photograph me. Then on some other occasions, he'd ask me to watch him while he masturbated, looking at these photos."

"Now that's sick, mom."

"Yes. I see that more clearly now. But then, I thought he was in love with me. I thought he was doing this because he couldn't help how he felt about me."

"Which is true, because he was a pervert."

"Right."

"So your mom got rid of him to protect herself and you."

"Right. He was arrested later for statutory rape on someone else."

"So your mom did the right thing."

"We should have turned him in to the police."

"Hindsight is 20-20."

"Not always. But now I see that. And now I see my mom wasn't crying because I broke up the relationship, but because she felt she was always being attracted to the wrong kind of person. People who were broken inside, like her."

"Do you feel broken inside, mom?"

"When I'm depressed, I do."

"How about now?"

"I'm feeling stronger now. But that's why I want to do this with you. I feel I should look at these old photos. I haven't seen them in over 30 years. And I'm afraid of looking at them by myself."

"What are you hoping to prove, mom?"

"I want to see things more clearly. And maybe looking at these old photos will help that."

"Sure. Let's do it."

Mom opened the box. It was filled with a child's artwork.

"Mom always saved whatever I painted. She thought I had a lot of talent."

I looked at some of the paintings. It was mostly stuff you did for school. It wasn't bad—a house looked like a house, a person looked like a person—but it wasn't so great you'd think the person should become a famous artist.

At the bottom was an envelope, stuffed thick. "This is it." Mom pulled it out.

On top were photos of my mom circa age 13, dressed like girls dressed at that time. Shirt and pinafore, old-timey shoes. Jeans and a blouse. A regular skirt and blouse. Nothing unusual about them, except mom had a glow to her face, and a little bit of a knowing look, like she was aware of the effect she was having on the photographer.

Mom wasn't beautiful, but she was much more attractive looking. She had youth and spirit. If the camera caught her right, as it did from time to time, she could be sort of intriguing-looking.

After several dozen of these photos, they started getting more risqué. She started showing cleavage. And at age 13, mom was already pretty built. In one photo, she leaned over, and the photographer was practically focusing down her unbuttoned shirt top.

"Nice breasts, mom."

"They were a blessing and a curse, Griffey. A blessing and a curse. I was both excited to have them, and also I hated them."

The next several showed her lifting up her skirt from the rear, so you could see some butt cheek. She still had her panties on, but there was no doubt as to the intent of the photographer.

"You can see him getting you to take more off, mom."

"Yes, you can."

And the next photos went straight to her bear-ass naked. She stared at the camera solemnly, with no joy in her expression, really no expression at all. Just like she was doing it dutifully. But her body was hot.

First she was standing. Then she was lying on the bed. Legs wide open, showing her pussy, with only a little blonde hair on it, open for inspection.

"He was using you, mom."

"He was, wasn't he?"

Mom started to cry. "He didn't love me. He didn't care about me. He was just using me for his perverted sexual fantasies. He didn't care what he did to me."

We had only gotten to about two thirds of the way through. But Mom had seen enough. She wrapped the pile up again, and stuffed it into the envelope, and the envelope in the box.

"Do you see a parallel here, Griffey?"

Of course I did. But I said nothing.

"He wanted me sexually, even though it was wrong. And he would have, if my mother hadn't kicked him out. He touched me a little, and had me touch him. He said he loved me. He made me think I wanted it, that it was my idea. And now you're having sex with me for all the wrong reasons too. You don't love me."

"You're right and you're wrong, mom. I don't love you like a husband, but I do love you as a son. A son who's fucked up, and who has a very fucked up mom. I'm not fucking you because I'm a pervert, at least I don't think so. I'm fucking you because you screwed me up in so many ways, including not letting me go to college."

"Oh, Griffey." Mom broke down crying. "I have a confession."

"Yes?"

"I've been thinking about that, and now I know why I did that terrible thing."

"Why?" God, I wanted to know.

"A lot of reasons. I was jealous. College for me was the happiest time of my life. I could so easily see how much you were looking forward to getting out of this house, leaving me, and I could just see how happy you'd be once you left. And I hated that. I hated you. I should have been happy for you, but I just couldn't."

"That's really sick, mom."

"I know. My parents were sick. I'm sick. Your dad is sick. Really sick, son. Someday, I'll tell you about how sick he really is. And as a result, you're sick too. And Drieka, in her way."

"But here's the thing, mom. I'm not sick. I don't feel sick. I got good grades in school. I got into the college of my choice. I don't perv around looking at little girls or getting high every day, like some people I know. There's only one thing I do that people might consider sick. I fuck my mom. But it feels therapeutic in a way. Like I'm refusing to be even sicker. And I think it's helping you too, mom."

"Griffey, you're so smart. I knew I wanted to show you those photos for a reason. Was it OK that I did?"

"Sure."

"Then I'm going to ask another favor of you."

"OK."

"I want to recreate that encounter I had my mom's boyfriend."

"What do you mean?"

"I want you to pretend to be him. And I'll pretend to be me, back when I was 13."

"You want me to take photos of you?"

"Yes. I want you to pretend to be him, and try to seduce me."

"Oh. Why?"

"I think it might help me get over all my old emotions about that scene."

"Oh, OK. When do you want to do this?"

"Not now. I'm not ready. Maybe in a few days?"

"OK."

"Does this turn you on?"

"The photos of you turned me on. But I'm not sure about this whole business of me pretending to be your step-father."

"I tell you what. Do you want to look at a photo of me and jerk off?"

"Yeah."

Mom rummaged through the box, and pulled out a photo of her again. This was one I hadn't seen before. She was staying, legs apart. Her large perky boobs were standing at attention, practically staring at the camera in a way her eyes couldn't.

"Do it."

I pulled out my prick, and started rubbing. I fantasized about what I might do with my 13 year old mom, if somehow I was sent back in time. Marty McFly, here I am.

Mom was watching me. I looked up to see her. "Talk baby-talk to me." I put her hand on my cock.

She immediately understood. She started jerking me, up and down. "Oooh, daddy, do you like my big boobs? I'm only 13 years old," she sort of lisped and cooed at the same time. "Look at how big my breasts are. They're bigger than they were just yesterday."

A few more minutes of that, and I was ready.

"Letty!" I shouted, as my cum started to surge. Mom took it on her sweater.

After giving me a moment to regain my senses, Mom said, "Guess I'll have to get this washed off. You called me by my name!"

"Yes," I said. "But first this."

I leaned her back, and took her sweater off. She accepted whatever I did. I rolled the sweater up, and wrapped it around her eyes, so she couldn't see. Then I flung her skirt up, maneuvered her and myself over, and then started to eat her pussy.

"Don't move," I growled.

She started to make moaning noises.

"No noises," I ordered.

I lapped in silence. I could feel her respond. She started making low humming sounds.

"No noises," I reprimanded.

Silently, she gushed into my mouth. As she did, I had a sudden revelation.

"Mom, have you ever fantasized, while we were doing it, that you were doing it with your stepfather?"

She nodded.

"Do you want me to fuck you now?"

She nodded.

"And when I do, who will it be who's fucking you?"

"Tomorrow, we'll run the whole program, and you'll be my stepfather. Today, it should be you."

"And how do you want me?"

"Just take me, Griffey. Use me however you want."

I stripped off the rest of her clothes, and positioned her above me. She stood tall, her breasts protuberant. I slid her down, so she engulfed my cock from a vertical position. Holding her hips, I moved her up and down, so it felt like a whole-body fuck.

"Call me Letty again?" she asked.

"No, Mom. That will be tomorrow. Today, it's still mom and son."

"Yes, Griffey. Son."

We did this for a while, then rolled over, missionary style. Her legs spread, to invite me in. Shortly after, Mom stuck a finger in my ass.

"What are you doing, Mom?"

"You like that?" she merely responded.

I nodded. I hadn't known that I did.

She waggled her finger about, getting more and more in, as I kept fucking her. She kept up the motion as I felt my orgasm surge.

"Wow, Mom," I said. "Kinky."

She sort of shrugged. "Kinky is as kinky does."

Well, it made sense at the time.

Chapter 18

I was still in touch with my friends, but fading from them every day. When they made their college decisions, I heard all about it, and it fueled my anger. I took mom rough during that time. But after a week or so, things got better again.

And then came prom. I never was big into dances or dating, but I had been looking forward to prom. I had wondered who I'd go with. Suzelle, the girl I had dated the longest? Probably not, as she had moved on to Harmon Milker. Florie, the gorgeous girl I had a crush on but could never approach? No way, as she'd have her pick of guys hotter than me. Hyna, the introverted girl from Bosnia who didn't speak English well and fled whenever someone tried to talk with her? I thought she was kind of hot too, and maybe she'd make the effort to go to prom.