Mother's Helping Hand Ch. 22

"Um, yes, I'm fine, thank you...officer."

"Do you have some kind of car problem Miss?"

"No, no, I'm fine."

"Is there any reason you're pulled over here?"

"Oh, I just dropped my cell phone. I was worried it might have been damaged, so I pulled over to retrieve it."

"Are you sure you are okay?"

He dropped his gaze from her face to her torn blouse. She glanced down and could see her top had fallen open and was displaying her bra-clad breasts. She hastily covered herself.

"Yes, I'm quite alright, thank you. I caught my blouse on a door handle earlier."

"Have you been drinking miss?"

"No, why?"

"You got a little something on your chin there."

She looked in the mirror and realised to her horror that some of Bobby's dried semen was on her chin. She'd been in such a state when she'd left him, she hadn't thought to check herself. She hastily dabbed it away with a tissue.

"Oh, I had an um...milkshake earlier. I must have spilt some. Thank you for pointing it out."

"Alright, well, you drive carefully then, Miss."

Her blouse had fallen open again; and her boobs wobbled like Jello as she cleaned her face. The patrol man couldn't help getting an eye-full; and since his crotch was at eye level, Alison couldn't help seeing he had the beginnings of a hard-on as he walked away.

She drove home in a state of confusion. Three or four times, she nearly turned back to go and fetch Bobby, and bring him home so they could be together; but then she stopped herself. She'd already given in to temptation once tonight. What would bringing him home achieve anyway? He needed to finish college, start a career, and meet a girl who could give him a family of his own, someone he could be with without any scandal or shame, who could give him a child, things she could never do.

She arrived home late. She'd thought about stopping at a bar on the way; but she could hardly walk in with her shirt torn open, and cum stains on her lips, so she just headed home. She trudged into the house. It had never seemed more empty and dark than it did now with Bobby gone.

She threw the torn shirt in the trash, and removed her bra and skirt, donning one of her husband's old t-shirts. She remembered how much he liked her wearing them; and now her son seemed to share her husband's tastes. She wandered down to the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine, pouring a large glass and downing half of it, washing away the faint taste of Bobby's cum. She couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and sobbed as she contemplated life without Bobby. She imagined all the girls he would have queueing up to be with him soon. His good looks, athletic body, charm, and not least his big dick, would ensure he wouldn't be alone at night.

She imagined some teenage undergraduate girl sucking Bobby's big cock, or worse, riding it, and felt herself flushing with jealousy. Once he had his choice of all those teenage girls, he'd forget all about his old mother. She wouldn't have to worry he would even think of her sexually any more. He'd probably just be disgusted with her for making herself so readily available to him, like she did tonight, dropping to her knees and sucking his cock dry like some whore: Alison the cock-sucking mother. She drank the rest of her wine, and was about to pour another, when the doorbell rang.

She dried her eyes and headed to the door. It was after 10pm. Who could it be at this time of night?

She opened it and saw a man in a courier's uniform with a manila package.

"Mrs. Alison Stevens?"

"Yes?"

"Sign here, please."

He passed her an electronic clipboard and pen, taking the opportunity to check her out as he did. Her nipples were clearly visible through her thin shirt; and combined with the way her breasts wobbled and swayed as she signed the form, she certainly wasn't wearing a bra. He tore his eyes away as she returned the pen and clipboard, and handed her the parcel.

She headed back to the kitchen and poured herself another drink. Why was someone sending her a parcel at this time of night? She presumed it was work; but she didn't know what was so important that she needed it tonight. She then remembered guiltily she'd said she would call Bobby. He was probably getting worried by now. She didn't think she could cope with talking to him, and answering any questions that might arise; so she grabbed her cell phone and sent him a text.

HOME SAFE

LOVE MOM

XXX

She sipped her wine and turned her attention to the package. She supposed if the clinic had couriered something to her, she ought to at least look at it. She pulled the tear strip and tipped the bag onto the kitchen table.

As Alison saw the contents, her world stopped. She felt herself becoming dizzy, and everything becoming blurred. For a moment, she thought she might feint. She gripped the counter top to keep herself from falling, as she took in the sight before her.

There on the counter, was a photograph, showing her naked, lowering herself onto Bobby's cock, on what had to be the balcony of their hotel. She sifted through the other pictures and found more of the same: her climbing on him, lowering herself onto his huge cock, her head thrown back as she climaxed, her boobs thrust out making them look obscenely big. She remembered the day. It was when Bobby had convinced her to see what it felt like to have his cock all the way inside her. From the pictures, it looked like they were actually fucking even though she knew they weren't.

She laughed to herself that she was making a distinction without a difference. As if sitting on your son's cock and taking him inside you was okay, as long as you didn't fuck. She leafed through the others, dozens of pictures., one of a hotel room trashcan with a condom filled with a milky residue. It looked like cum, even though Alison remembered it was just Bobby's pre-cum, again she was struck with the absurdity of the distinction, and realised how she'd been trying to fool herself with these stupid rules and limits she'd set.

Her heart was racing and her head spinning as she tried to make sense of them: her and Bobby fucking for real this time, with Pam and Cyn watching them...dozens of photos exposing in graphic detail their indiscretions.

She turned her attention to the other contents of the package, hoping to find an answer. There was a memory stick and a cell phone. She groggily fetched her laptop and switched it on, wondering what fresh horrors awaited her on the memory stick. While she waited for her computer to fire up, she examined the phone for any clues. It was a basic Nokia. She presumed it was a...what did they call them, a burner. She turned it on and scrolled through the menus, hoping to find something, but it was blank.

Her laptop finally finished booting, and she plugged in the memory stick, clicking the icon with a sense of dread. There were a series of movie files with anonymous titles, and she clicked one at random. It showed a beachside bar with a couple in the throes of passion. The woman had huge breasts and was masturbating the man's equally impressive erection. With a shock she recognised the couple as herself and Bobby, and remembered it was from one of their first days at the resort. If she'd been in any doubt, the clip was time and date stamped anyway, recording in clinical detail when the events occurred. As she watched, the camera zoomed in to show a close up of Bobby's cock as it erupted, spraying an obscene geyser of cum on Alison's breasts.

She closed the clip and opened another. This time it was a parking lot. The picture had a greenish hue, presumably due to a night-vision filter. She saw herself climbing out of her car and helping Bobby, whose pants tented out with an obviously huge erection. She watched in sick fascination, as she saw herself reaching into Bobby's pocket to hold his erect cock, before making their way inside. She closed the clip. She didn't need to open any more to know they would contain a pornographic display of her and Bobby's descent into incest. She thought she might be sick. The only comfort she could draw from all of this, was that whoever had taken all these images, had chosen not to make them public... yet.

She was startled from her thoughts by the sound of the cell phone ringing. She looked at the screen, but it simply said "ID WITHHELD", not that she needed an ID to know that whoever was calling was the person who had sent the pictures. She sat frozen, looking at the phone, wondering what they would want. She was paralysed by fear, but eventually forced herself to reach out and take the phone, pressing the green "ANS" key. She held it to her ear tentatively, almost as if something might leap out of it at her: silence.

"Hello?" her voice sounded thin and frightened, like a little girl. She felt angry with herself for allowing herself to sound so weak.

"Ms Stevens, I take it you have had time to view the collection of pictures and films?"

The voice was robotic, mechanical. She realised it was passing through some sort of processor, to mask the caller's identity.

"Who is this? What do you want?"

"A car will call for you tomorrow night at 6pm exactly. Please ensure you are ready."

"Who are you? Why are you...."

"Your questions will be addressed tomorrow evening. Tell no one about this. One more thing: be sure to wear your little black dress."

The phone went dead; and Alison dropped it back onto the counter shaking with nerves, too scared and stunned to cry. What on earth was going to happen to her? And what about Bobby, had he received a call?

Cumming Ch 23. Alison comes face to face with her blackmailer and discovers the price of silence.