Reeducating Rita Ch. 2

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When I eventually decided to get up, I carried Mom to the bathroom with me. I decided that we both needed a shower to wash off the funk of our aggressive sex. I was feeling very affectionate toward her, more than I ever would have imagined.

The shy mother I grew up with had quickly become a fighter when she accidentally walked in on me masturbating. Through a series of circumstances beyond our control, I had ended up first spanking her into submission and then aggressively having sex with her.

Now Rita, as I was already thinking of her, had agreed to place herself completely under my control. I was beginning to understand what had led her to this place in her life where such things appeared normal to her. Abused, first by her father and then by mine, Rita was a woman just waiting for the first strong man to come along and scoop her up. She was a tasty morsel for any man's taking.

Only she had made herself look less tasty in order to hide that fact after my father had left ten years ago. Behind ugly hair and dumpy clothes, Rita withdrew from the world. She never went out or had fun. She was punishing herself for twenty plus years of being the whore other men had forced her to be. Now it was up to me to reeducate Rita and teach her to be the woman I knew she could become.

So, I began with a simple warm shower. The hot water stung Rita's sore ass. As I held her under the spray, I examined the cheeks of her bottom and her flanks that I had brutalized. She had been attacking me at the time too, biting and scratching as best she could, which wasn't much considering our size difference. But I had gone too far. I could see that now in examining her flesh and the bruises that would be there for a while. I was gratified to see that no permanent damage had been done, however.

Had I been thinking clearly at the time, I wouldn't have whipped her quite so hard. When she needed to be spanked again, I'd have to do so in a more controlled fashion.

And Rita would need it. We both completely understood that now. Rita needed discipline, and even beyond that, being controlled sexually excited her. When I had pulled her off of my lap, my denim jeans had been soaked.

I had found that controlling and disciplining Rita had excited me as well. I'd never be content with just going back to being her dutiful son.

I'd seen a movie once that said when a man saved someone's life, he became responsible for them. In a real sense, I knew I had changed, and probably saved, Rita's life today. She was my responsibility now.

Consciously accepting that duty, I began to wash Rita from head to toe. As we went along, I told her some of the things we would need to change.

Her short, unattractive hair was matted and stringy after our sweaty affair.

"You'll let your hair grow out again, Rita," I told her firmly, my voice brooking no quarrel or discussion.

"Yes, Robert," she sputtered as I held her head under the spray to wash out the shampoo.

Mother used to have such beautiful, long black hair. I had seen it in pictures. Sexual pictures that she had never wanted anyone to see.

"You'll start wearing makeup again," I decided as I washed her face. "Nothing too extreme. We'll go over it later. You can show me what you think and I'll decide if I like it."

I knew my own limitations. Makeup wasn't something that I knew a lot about.

As I washed Mom's chest and stomach and under her arms, I could see the ravages of middle age creeping up on her already. She was only thirty-five, but Rita hadn’t taken good care of herself lately. With no man to look after her or to look nice for, she’d put on extra pounds. Her sedentary job as a comptroller for a small retail firm wasn’t giving her much exercise either.

"I'll work out an exercise routine for you, Rita," I told mother. "I don't expect you to be a teenager, but we'll get rid of this loose skin under your arms and your soft belly. Not that you're not attractive. You are. But, I want you to start taking better care of your body. It's mine now, and I won't have you abusing it."

Mother nodded dutifully and smiled as I caressed her big breasts under the warm spray. She stuck out her chest and moaned attractively, causing my cock to stir.

That's when I pulled Rita into our first kiss. I had to lean down a bit as Mom was at least eight inches shorter than me. She rose up on her toes and craned her neck to reach me, though, as eager for the intimacy of the dance of our tongues as I was. I crushed her smaller body against my firm chest and she swooned in my arms. It was just as I had always imagined. A strong man with a big hard cock was all Mom had been waiting for.

Squatting down, I had Rita first turn toward me so I could wash her unkempt bush, and then away from me so I could wash her slightly sagging bottom. The exercise routine would take care of the latter. I'd have to decide how radical to be about the former.

"Have you ever shaved your pussy, Rita?" I asked her. "I mean really shaved it bare?"

"Yes, Robert," she replied, becoming suddenly tense at the question. "My father shaved me first. Then your daddy always insisted I keep it that way."

Her pubis and vagina were not unattractive, just as they were. The hair was black in color and silky in texture. It was still sparse enough that it I could see mother's pale flesh through it.

"We'll just trim it back for now. I think the dark color looks delicious, personally," I informed her.

Rita relaxed and opened her legs a bit more for my inspection. Her vulva was fleshy, the lips rising between her legs like dark, rippling hillocks.

As I began to wash the accumulated sperm and slime from off of Rita's inner thighs, I had her turn around to face the wall and bend over. Mother had wide set ass cheeks and the small, near-black ring of her anus was clearly visible. After scrubbing down Rita's thighs, which obviously were in need of the same exercise, I used the rougher washcloth to scrub the long, darkened furrow of her asscrack.

Rita submitted to this indignity without comment or complaint. The only sounds in the bathroom were the hiss of the spray and then my mother's delicately soft moans.

I used my finger, slick with soap to press inside the tight ring, committed to scrubbing mother thoroughly. The increased volume of Rita's moans informed me that such thoroughness was not unappreciated.

But this shower was not for her pleasure. She'd had perhaps too much of that already this afternoon. Turning Rita around, I instructed her to now rinse and wash my body, but to be quicker about it. I’d already had one shower just after work. That’s what had started this whole affair.

She needed time to familiarize herself with my body too, though. Mother hadn't seen me naked since I was a boy. At least, not until she walked in on me masturbating. I'd changed a lot since then, especially in the last year.

I was a skinny redheaded stringbean when I had graduated high school. As a carpenter's helper with a construction company, I'd filled out and bulked up. I now had stronger thighs, a hard stomach, and a wide, muscular chest. The only thing that had stayed the same was my hard, ten inches that was even now waving proudly. I had looked like a freak before, skinny and all dick. Working steadily in a physically demanding profession had given me a body to match my sexual equipment.

I wasn't surprised when Mom wanted to inspect between my legs most of all. She got down on her knees and gently bathed my scrotum with her soft hands. She lathered the staff that so recently had helped to tame her. She lovingly turned me toward the spray to wash the suds away. Then when I turned back to her, Rita rose up off her haunches and engulfed the swollen crown into her small mouth.

In my mind, I'd given up on ever getting a good blowjob. I'd seen pictures and even looked at a few porno shorts over the Internet but my experience with real women or girls was practically non-existent. Nothing I had seen had led me to believe that a real woman could take my larger cock completely into her mouth.

Not that I hadn't dreamed about blowjobs like every other boy. Not that I hadn't dreamed about Mom herself giving them to me. In the pictures I’d seen of her, she often had a stiff erection between her lips. None of those cocks were as long or as thick as mine, though.

And she did struggle with it, especially at first. But Mom was a trooper. She had as much determination to please her man as I had to take care of her. Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, Mom worked my hard shaft back into her hungry throat.

Her mouth was wet and warm. She was applying just enough suction, just enough friction with her lips, to make it feel wonderful. Her tongue made a slick groove she used to slide me in and out. It felt like fucking her cunt, or so I imagined. In truth, I'd only fucked Mom once and then I’d been slamming so hard and fast into her that I hadn't noticed the details.

Mostly I was straining to control my breathing, staring up at the ceiling, and trying desperately to hold back the wonderful sensation. From the first moment Rita took my cock into her mouth, I knew that if I just relaxed and let the momentum build naturally, I would have sprayed the back of her throat too quickly. But I held back, allowing Mother the time necessary to get a good taste of her new love, and time to exercise the muscles necessary to taking care of me this way regularly.

As my cockhead hit the back of her throat, though, I had to look down and see that wonderful sight I thought I’d never see. She had it all, her eyes bright with excitement, her nose exhaling rapidly into the red curls that surrounded the base of my shaft.

When mother drew back, it looked as though she was smiling up at me before she plunged quickly back down to the depths. Her throat constricted tight about the knob as though she was trying to swallow it down. I rocked, moaning loudly, and by the time she'd done that twice all thought of holding back escaped me.

My hot load boiled up and out, as though I was feeding Mom my very life itself. As she greedily sucked my seed, I felt more and more empty, more and more relaxed. It was as though Rita were sucking out everything bad, everything impure I'd ever done. When she was through, I felt empty, but it was an empty feeling that felt sooo good!

As I leaned against the wall, panting and recuperating, Rita rose up on her feet, rubbing her jaw.

"First you stretch my cunt and now you've stretched my mouth, Robert," she said in a deep, husky voice. She hugged me, pressing her cheek hard into my firm chest. "I don't know if I can take you in my one remaining hole just yet, but I can't wait to have you there too."

Overwhelmed by the sentiment, I grabbed Rita’s hair and pressed her back against the wall, kissing her hard as I milked those big lovely tits in my large hands. She squirmed, wanting desperately to hold me I think, but I pinned her arms and pressed her firmly back against the wall instead.

When I trusted my own voice to be steady, I told her, "Fucking you has built up a real appetite, woman, and you promised my favorite meal. If you don't deliver, and deliver soon, I might just have to eat you up instead."

Rita groaned with sexy laughter and her eyes danced wickedly at the thought. I gave her sore ass a tender swat and told her to get out and dry herself off, then tell me when she was ready to dry me too.

She took her time about it, lollygaging about, enjoying the rough cloth on my chest and back and ass. She licked the excess water off my dick and then dried it lovingly, her eyes filled with an incomprehensible devotion.

Finally I had to run her off. I'd never eat if I left her to her heart's content.

The meal was good, even if it was hastily prepared and presented. I don't suppose it helped much that I was in the small kitchen, watching every move my naked mother made as she went about it.

Later, after we'd done the dishes together, we lay on the couch listening to music. Rita's ass was getting tender, so I allowed her to lie across my chest and stroked her back as we talked quietly together about the future.

We went to bed early at my insistence. Tomorrow morning would come too soon for me. Joe, my foreman, was picking me up early since my truck had broken down. Without any comment, we both went straight to mother's larger bed after our separate nightly rituals.

"Robert, I know it's completely your decision, but can a make a request please, son?" Mother asked.

"You can always ask me anything, Rita," I said, emphasizing her given name. "Unless I know your concerns and desires, how can I take care of you like I should?"

Rita smiled, a bit overcome I think. She always seemed to expect to be treated brutally. I'm sure she thought that only brutal men could dominate. So far, every tenderness I’d shown her had been met with surprise, then grateful acceptance.

"I know tomorrow I'll be sore," she said, her voice carrying no hint of accusation or bitterness at the thought. "Tonight, could we be together again once more before we go asleep? With you on top? I'm not sure if I'll be able to enjoy it as much tomorrow, but earlier today, I couldn't see your face."

Mom had come a long way toward accepting our situation to be able to make such a request. Maybe it had been the gentleness after dinner. Maybe it had been the encouragement I had been giving her as she prepared the meal and as we ate. Either way, it was a tender thought, and not a bad idea.

Just for a moment, I considered whether I really wanted my mother to fall in love with me. After all, by her own admission, Rita did have whorish ways. Even though she had cleaned her life up and lived the straight and narrow these last years, now her libido had been awakened again. The mother I had known throughout my youth could have never cum as many times or done the things my Rita had enjoyed today.

But men had used Rita all her life, apparently without concern or affection for her at all. Would it hurt so much if I allowed her to fall in love right now, even though she still had a lot to unlearn?

I made the decision, then and there, that it wouldn’t. I’d have to be strong enough for the both of us. Hard decisions would have to be made; hard choices with big consequences for the rest of our lives. I'd be the one making those, not Rita.

So it really didn't matter if she fell in love or not. Or if I did, for that matter; which I hadn't… yet.

All that mattered was that I kept focused and was willing to make those hard decisions when they had to be made. Determination. Will. Focus.

"Sure, Rita," I told her warmly. "That’d be fine."

As she crawled naked into the middle of the bed, she told me, "I know you have to be at work early. You don't have to prepare me or anything. I'm ready; and I can tell, so are you."

My erection was pretty obvious, sticking out before me like a stiff baton. I crawled up onto the bed and between Rita's legs. She was looking into my eyes, even as her hand reached out to grab my prick.

"You don't have to be gentle, Robert," she murmured in a husky voice as she steered my cock to harbor. "I've never been able to respond to that, anyway. I'm Rita, just remember that. Rita that needs to fuck you, baby. Rita needs to fuck you bad!"

As I slid into Rita's warmth, her breath came in shallow gulps. It was an amazing sight, this woman that I had thought I knew so well. Shy Mother. Unassuming Mother. The woman everyone tended to overlook.

As I looked into her eyes while I stuffed her with my cock, I could certainly see why she thought herself the whore. Mother's depth of passion was astounding. I had to stop halfway because she was still so tight. As I worked in an out with short, smooth jabs, Rita tossed her head from side to side with the same smooth rhythm. Then, when she had loosened up and my cock was slick with her copious juices, I pushed in hard and deep as mother cried out with her first curse word of the session.

"Oh fuck, baby! So good!"

Mother only cursed when she was climaxing. I felt her clench at my cock like a tight, velvet vise. A very wet velvet vise indeed!

Her eyes cleared and she craned her neck to look up into mine. I started with a slow, agonizing stroke to make it last. Mother's eyes at first panicked. Then, after her legs came up and wrapped around me, she thrust her hips up sharply and threw her head back and bellowed again.

"Fuck that's a big cock!"

When her wits had returned, I increased the pace, setting up a steady slap of our two bellies. There was a wet, smacking sound and with every backstroke it felt as though I was turning her inside out as she gripped me tight. I felt my heavy nuts spanking her ass with every stroke. Rita tossed her head from side to side and grunted from somewhere deep in her throat.

"You fuckin' bastard! You fuckin' shit!"

It was easier to pump her harder after that. Mother's words elicited violence, even when I didn't feel that way. It seemed the only way she could respond. The only way she could feel pleasure.

"Your fuckin' cock is killing me! Oh damn! So fuckin' deep!"

I'd heard of things like this, read about it in dirty stories. Multi-orgasmic was the more clinical word, if I wasn't mistaken. Whore and slut were the more common labels women like mother were given.

"You motherfucker!" Rita said intently, her eyes boring into mine as she came again.

That seemed to be a favorite curse of hers. An appropriate one, too. I was fucking her, fucking my mother. So I fucked her good. I fucked her hard.

The bed shook as we slapped against each other. I felt Rita's hands on my ass, pulling me down harder with each thrust. With every stroke I tried to get into her wet hole deeper and deeper. Mother's pliant body yielded to the tender violence, accepting my hard sword like she was its natural sheath.

At last, I couldn't hold back any longer. Rita needed it. Her eyes, hungry for cock - for semen - begged me. Her hips clung to my thrusting pelvis. Her cunt sucked at my stiff prick, aching to drain my balls.

Pulling her arms over her head and arching myself into her forcefully, I warned her, "Here it comes you sweet bitch!"

Mother exploded with me, cursing and flailing about like a whirl-a-wheel at the county fair.

"You sweet motherfuckin' prick! You sonofabitch! You fuckin'bastard!"

We came together, pressing flesh roughly against each other, staring deeply into one another's eyes. The intensity threatened to overwhelm me, but I was strong. I wore her out. I came, pumping hard and deep, until Rita was the one to look away and not me.

Only then did I allow myself to relax and lean heavily against her. Rita cradled me in her soft arms, pulling my heavier weight down on top of her. She struggled to breathe, but every time I tried to rise, she pulled me back down instead.

"Oh, baby," she crooned, suddenly tender again. "That was so good baby. Mama's sorry for all the things she said. I just can't help it. It's the way I've always been."

"I know Rita," I told her soothingly. "At first it troubled me. Now, it doesn’t matter. Don't let it worry you."

"You're so good for me, Robert," she whispered breathily. "So strong and forceful."

Eventually I coaxed her into rolling on our sides. Still she clung to me. We lay, locked tightly in each other's arms until we dozed. Only then did mother's arms relax and her legs unwind from around me.

I slept like the dead until the alarm went off. Mother had remembered to set hers for me. She rose, an hour earlier than she needed to, and reluctantly made breakfast as I took a quick shower.

"No, you can't suck me in the shower again," I had been forced to tell her, laughing gently at her persistence. "Breakfast now, or I'll bend you over the table again. I'm sure there's a spatula or wooden handled spoon I could find to help me."