Me, Mom and That Other Guy

[©2010 BY CLINTON09; ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18 WITH IDENTITIES DISGUISED; THIS STORY HAS A 'MUCH HARDER EDGE' THAN MOST; BE WARNED: HERE BE DRAGONS; FOR AGES 21 OR ABOVE]

[A stirring tale of love thy neighbor and honor thy mother. When father crosses her, mother gets even. If you are looking for a tender tale of gentle romance, the door is that a way. See you next time...]

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One typical night, my gorgeous mother Sue was on top of her husband Mal, trying as always to get some satisfaction. He had never been 'gifted' down there, but over the years, he actually seemed to have shrunk from 4 ½ to his present 3 ¼ inches. Suffice it to say, it wasn't very satisfying for my sexy mom. His size was pathetic but worse, he didn't seem to have his heart into it. As usual, she had tried but had to give up. As usual, he blamed my mom for being 'dull and uninteresting', though she was nothing of the sort. This had been going on for years with a 'sexual excitement deficit' building up in her. She stayed in this sham marriage for her only son, James (i.e. me) and vowed to split as soon as I did.

This was such a stark contrast to what had happened earlier that day. Mom had asked me to do some chores around the house. I said that I would but only after lunch; I had some 'errands of my own' to run. Well, she was at the kitchen window, doing some dishes. Across the narrow alley between our home and our neighbors, their French doors were covered only by vertical blinds. The blinds were closed. However, there were gaps allowing the big mirror over their hutch to be seen at our kitchen window. Mom noted movement and looked; she was aghast. There, she saw the image of her musclebound, big-cocked teen son, Jim, and her BFF neighbor Emily. Emily was 'happily' married, her husband away on a business trip. Mom was appalled that she was fooling around, and with me of all people. But, there we were, going at it like rabbits. The dining room table of theirs was right in front of that mirror. Mom could see that attractive MILF brunette, about 29, unhappily childless--they had been trying for years. She was on the table, legs up, ankles on my shoulders. I for my part was plowing into her mercilessly while standing up. At one point, the neighbor stopped the action, rose up, and pushed me away from her. She then grabbed the condom and peeled it off my huge ten inch cock, throwing it across the room. I started to drill her again, even harder.

Mom could see so well she saw my 'family jewels', inflated like small balloons, bouncing manfully in my sack. In the dead silence of mid-day suburbia, mom could even hear the shrill cry of her neighbor, singing out in orgasmic delight (which she never did for her stocky accountant hubby.) Finally, mom watched in goggle-eyed amazement as those swollen balls on her he-man son rose up tightly then swelled and contracted like a bellows, projecting my seed (she had no doubt) into the fertile depths of that horny housewife. Again and again, my powerful unit gushed. She stopped counting at six (the final total nine). After the coitus, I picked up that beautiful wife of our wimpy neighbor like a ragdoll, and kissed her ruby lips. It was the sexiest sight mom had ever seen, especially the end, where a triumphant all-conquering hero (me) carried her off and laid her to rest on her marital bed. We were now out of sight from mom's peeping tom gaze.

It turns out that Emily was not so 'happily married' as she appeared. She found her hubby's personal checking account stub book, with a lot of strange payments for something called 'entertainment'. She had just learned what that was.

Earlier in the day, she had me go to a pawn shop with her; she got a nice check for the gold wedding ring she no longer wanted. Now I was here in her private sanctum, at her invitation. In their medicine cabinet was a prescription for Viagra, with 2 pills remaining. Her impotent hubby had used fully 18 of them with little results. Now, she ordered me to close my eyes and open my mouth. I did (foolishly.) She put a glass of water in my hand and then shoved two pills deep in my throat. I had no choice but to swallow them and chase it down with that water.

I asked what those pills were.

She said they were sleeping pills. I looked like I needed a nap after the incredible sex I gave her. I believed it and lay down on her bed. About 45 minutes later, she woke me up. I was astounded to see not morning wood, but morning STEEL. Temporarily, I was not ten but eleven inches.

What she did next showed how 'happy' she was in that marriage. Using my huge cock like a movie popcorn butter dispenser, she went and fetched things, put them in a pile on the bed, and then proceeded to cover them in my virile white cum. With one tiny hand she keyholed my cock, dispensing the manly goop. With the other hand, she passed each item underneath for a 'coating'. She covered her wedding photos, the bedside photo of the two of them, plans for their next (bigger) house, his birth certificate, his pillow, and half of his clothes. All of them would be covered in my potent seed, and left that way until he came home.

Later that day when he came home, he found everything that I had done. She told him what I had done to her, too. They had a fight...and I mean a real fight, with fisticuffs. The score was gym/fitness/jogger babe one, desk jockey/wimp nothing. After she knocked him out with one right upper cut, he was out for ten hours. When he came to, he agreed, for appearance sake, to provide a home. Henceforth, SHE was the 'man of the house', entertaining who she chose (including me), and breeding with whom she chose. It was ironic that as she set the ground rules for their marriage, including her right to breed freely, she conceived my baby.

Mom broke her stare from the 'goings on' next door. She finally noticed that one of her hands had gotten her off just as I got off in our neighbor. She now had to catch her breath, her nipples popping, her vagina sopping. She was a super turned-on mess, now jealous for what that neighbor got.

Another incident was far more sinister and just plain odd. This tall well-built guy came to our house. He asked for my father but then started demanding that my mom, who had opened the door, pay him what he was owed.

When she asked what it was for, he wouldn't say. When he threatened to hurt her, she called for me. Fortunately, I was home and just as 'well built' as him.

I grabbed him and applied a wrist lock, asking the punk what was going on.

He asked me to let go—he had something to show us; I did. He showed me an IOU for $1,000. To my amazement, it had my father's company stamp, which was utterly unique and difficult to forge.

I asked what it was for.

He smiled and said 'private entertainment'.

Mom called dad at work. He was embarrassed that this had come out but told mom to pay the guy. She gave him a check. The dude split and mom hugged me for security, thanking me for being there. We spent the rest of the afternoon trying to figure out what was that all about and came to the conclusion that my father had gotten some strange interests and was paying bums like that guy to 'entertain him'. Mom thought that that must be the reason he was so ineffective in the sack.

When mom came to that conclusion, that her husband of 19 years might be changing his sexual 'orientation', she hugged me once again, only tighter. My mom and I had always been close, but only as mother and son and nothing more.

I did notice that I had a spectacular looking mother, a diminutive (five foot two) bedroom athlete, with big boobs and fantastic legs. She was 38 (my father 49); few women at that age go without stockings, but mom could and did. Her legs were beautifully detailed like Kelly Ripa or Renee Zellweger. For such a petite woman, she was kind of unbalanced in proportion. I know, because I had to pick up a complete outfit for her at Macy's for a wedding and was surprised to see this big cupped bra, labeled '36D' that was included in the order that she had emailed over. Five foot two and 36D did not match up...

I'm ashamed to admit, when I got home and saw that mom was at the beauty parlor, I laid out the outfit she was wearing to her friend's wedding. I could just imagine my mom's beautiful smooth feet adorning the Lucite clear slides with five inch heels--those gorgeous feet with the darkest red toenail polish on her precious little toes. Then her thong bikini underwear (again unheard of for a 38 year old.) Then that bra and the dress. That damn bra...why did she buy a bra obviously two sizes too large? I just had to see. I went to mom's dresser and found her lingerie drawer. To my surprise, all of the bras were '36D'. Looking at one of the older ones, I could clearly see a little dome bump in the middle of the front where, my God, her erect nipples must have been thrusting outward. The catches in the back were all pulled as if the force outward of those fabulous boobs was too much for them to contain. At that point I looked down and noticed that there was a big damp spot in front of my fleece basketball shorts. This adventure into mom's dresser had apparently gotten me off. From that day forward, I vowed that one day my hands would hold those boobs. Moreover, I vowed that one day I would have the woman connected to those big boobs. All the primal thoughts emerged right then; I realized that I wanted my mom; I had ALWAYS wanted my mom. The fact that her 'old man' couldn't cut it made it all the more imperative that I put in my claim on her.

While my head was spinning about my repressed feelings about dear old mom, I had to use her bathroom. After using the facility, I noticed in her medicine cabinet a little four pack slim box of, well, those things woman use with the strings on them. Like most men, I quickly looked away from them, not wanting to even look at their pink and white box or the brand name ending in 'tex'. As I left walking past her bed, it hit me. I sat on her bed, taking it all in. That package of four pads, with one missing, meant that mom still had her monthly 'visitor', which meant she was still fertile.

Wow, that was another repressed thought. It was one thing to realize that mom was hot, sexy, and the most desirable lay in the country. But, now, I was confronted with the opportunity to actually impregnate my own mom, to knock her up. Talk about a challenge. It was obviously an impossible task, but one that I pledged I would strive for. Nothing was going to stand in my way...certainly not her pathetic wimpy 'old man'. No way was he man enough to prevent me from getting my mom pregnant.

One day, things came to a dreadful climax. I had turned 18 some weeks past and was out looking for somewhere to move to. At home was my beautiful petite mom. Into the house came her 'old man' Mal and that creepy guy who had come over that time before. The key thing to remember is that he (Mal) thought my mom was at a fashion outlet mall some 90 miles away. She was supposed to go, but her car broke down; the dealership gave her a lift home. That's why he thought he was alone, with her car gone.

Mom heard some music and quietly put a little green houserobe around her perfect body, tying the sash around her narrow waist. She padded silently down the thick shag carpeted stairs on beautiful bare smooth feet. Looking down thru the stairwell opening into the living room, her whole world was turned upside down. Something told her to record it so she got her movie camera and recorded everything she saw. That guy who came to collect was performing for my father, her 'old man'. I won't go into details; suffice it to say, the 'performance' included some 'expressive dancing' and then the performer 'serviced' the audience of one...noisily. Mom ran back up the few stairs to the top floor and secreted the camera under her pillow.

In the bravest and most foolish act in US history, an irate woman (my wonderful mom) then stormed downstairs. They had just finished. A company check for $1,000 was already made out to the 'performer'. Mom grabbed the check and put it into her bra as women do. To her amazement, right in front of her husband, that punk grabbed mom by the front of her robe, demanding his money. Mom fell silent, expecting her wimpy husband to intervene. But there was nothing but silence from him. Roughly, the punk then slapped my mom...hard. She grabbed her cheek, shedding a few tears. Finally, he pulled her robe open, exposing her bra and panty clad body. He unceremoniously grabbed the check, giving her a ferocious slap for good measure, and left. Mom was on her knees, slightly teary, mostly in shock. Her 'old man' was so embarrassed that he said nothing, did nothing, and left the house. He didn't return that night, spending it over at the performer's. There was even a second check, to cover that.

When I got home from my apartment search, I found mom stretched out on the couch, not far from where she was kneeling as her 'old man' left the house. Sensing something was wrong, I rushed to the couch, falling to my knees. A disoriented woman gave me a broad outline of the day's events. I couldn't help but notice that she sported a black eye, a gift from that 'friendly' intruder earlier that day. I picked up my precious mother and carried her up to her marital bed. I carefully removed her little green robe, laid her physical perfection down, and covered her up snug and warm under the comforter. I left and went to the basement to do a short two hour set on my weights.

My mind alternated between the problems vexing my beautiful mother and my self-pity. Here I was a physical phenomenon, pressing up to 500 lbs., and I could no longer play football. Having played middle linebacker in high school, there was that one play where my Achilles tendon was shattered, ending any thoughts of college or pro ball. While I was wallowing in self-pity, I heard my mother call from upstairs.

I rushed up the stairs, where a distraught looking mom was sitting up in bed. She patted the bed beside her. I sat there, mere inches away. Spontaneously, we hugged. Then we looked in each other's eyes. Mom put her hands on my shoulders, tracing their outline down to my chiseled arms. For good measure, she squeezed my bulging biceps, caressing them to share in their strength.

Mom: "Jim, I feel so secure with you here. God, I wish you could have been there to protect me today." [We looked and kissed tenderly. We hugged again.]

Me: "I love you mom; I promise I will not move out or be far away from here until you have found somewhere to go. If it were up to me, I mean, if we weren't mother and son, I would ask you, BEG YOU, to move in with me. I love you so much." [We kissed now, but with a fervor seldom seen outside a XXX movie.]

Mom: "I wish I knew what to do; all of these things coming out at the same time. I never told you, but after that entertainer and your cowardly father left, I grabbed the company books. I had never looked at them, even though the company was a wedding gift from my family to us. The books were always kept by our neighbor, the CPA. I am no accountant, but I could see check after check paid to that 'entertainer' for 'personal appearances.' There were other, even bigger checks, sometimes for foreign travel to questionable places. While I sat home thinking he was at a boring conference in Chicago, he was in a foreign setting doing heaven knows what."

Mom: "That company had a balance sheet of $984,000 when the 'old man' was given control of it. Now, it was in debt $16,000. The only remaining asset was a pre-paid universal life policy of $2million on the CEO, our wonderful 'old man' himself."

After a few minutes, I had my eureka moment. I told mom my plan. It was devious, wicked but just might work.

Me: "I say that we bring dad's expensive and odd ways to an abrupt and fitting end. He's given you 19 years of inattention or pathetic attention in bed; he defrauded you out of a $1 million, squandering your money on his personal habits and weaknesses. Much worse, he stood by like a disinterested coward while you were manhandled and beaten by his 'love interest'. I'd say some serious punishment was called for." [Mom nodded vigorously.]

Me: "Okay, first up, we compose an email telling that 'entertainer' Bruce to go to a place I have in mind. There he would entertain an enthusiastic group of leather types who would appreciate him. The email would promise him that $10,000 would be there at the end of his performance. After that, we allow some time for him to 'get over' his last performance and then he would want to 'entertain' the 'old man'. I will explain later. Mom, I promise you that everything will work out. Is there anything that I can do to make you feel better?"

To that question, mom opened the covers, revealing herself. She was still wearing the bra and panties from earlier in the day. I clutched mom to me, trying to undo that bra. I had two powerful hands and still couldn't do it, to mom's amusement. I just tore the damn thing off and threw it on the floor. I stood up, pulled the damn string on those thong bikini undies and threw them so they landed on top of that big cupped bra. I got my own clothes off in record time. I then picked up my gorgeous mother with ease, my powerful arms holding her easily as our lips came together. Mom wrapped her shapely legs around me. Then she slid down until my mighty ten inch cock just touched the slavering damp lips of her excited pussy. She put her hands on my broad shoulders and gently sank onto my cock, the long pole skewering her tender tissues down there. Mom moaned in pleasure. We kissed tenderly. I put my two hands on either side of her bum and proceeded to move her up and down. My uncut cockhead was rubbing her vagina raw; she now had an itch there that could only be satisfied by the gentle presence of a long, thick warm tube and, perhaps, an application of a soothing warm fluid. I was determined to provide her that long, thick warm tube. Then, I'd have that very tube deliver that 'soothing warm fluid' as deep inside her as I could deliver it. I thought back to her medicine cabinet and that missing hygiene item with the string. The box had a crude calendar on it for women to use to keep track of their cycles; if I read it right, mom was at her absolute peak fertility either today or tomorrow. It was just plain luck, I guess.

Mom was so damn horny that when my oversized cockhead had just lightly touched her labia, she had an orgasm. She had another when I entered her fully, plus one when I touched ground (at the base of her vagina) and another when Mr. Johnson met up with her cervical play area. I asked her to hold back her little 'O's and save it for the simultaneous big 'O'. She did.

I was on top of my gorgeous mom, my hips a blur of motion. Mom reached around and stopped me in my tracks. Her matronly hand sought out and hefted my 'family jewels' several times. She was stunned at the weight, so heavy in seed, so much pent-up love. My balls were swollen with potent seed, the semen almost 100% sperm. As her hand retreated, she lovingly placed the avocado sized testes against my hip, giving them a final loving caress. She knew the next time she checked, they would be empty deflated balloons, with the ocean of live-giving vibrant sperm having been transferred into her very fertile womb.

We were headed to the big 'O', but I wanted it to have deeper meaning than simple recreation. As I lay atop mom, my cock almost occupying her entire womb, my powerful hands around her motherly behind, I had to ask:

Me: "Mom, this is a funny time to ask, but if all of that plan of mine succeeds, would you consider living together...with me...as mother and son...no, as husband and wife?"

Mom: "You mean, give up on a tiny cocked, abusive, impotent old fool who defrauded me of my family money, watched me get beaten without a word, and deprived me of sex for almost 20 years? You want me to give up on all that just to be with a broad shouldered, musclebound, big cocked teen with an insatiable sex drive and a devotion to his broken down old mother? Well, I will have to say: YES!!" [Still in position for the big 'O', I stopped briefly to lower myself down and kiss her tender lips.]