The Blank Coupon

Neil brushed past me, and walked through the kitchen into the living room. I remained standing there, shocked, appalled, disgusted, and... wet? I looked down in surprise, as if I could somehow confirm it through my jeans. What the fuck was wrong with my body? Of course, it was just a natural reaction to external stimulus. It had nothing to do with what my son had said.

This idiocy had to stop at once. I followed him into the living room, and found him sitting on the couch, watching TV.

"I demand that you apologize," I told him firmly.

"Relax, Mom. Come, sit down," he said, and patted the seat next to his.

"And then you're gonna apologize?"

"Maybe."

I let out a frustrated sigh, and sat down next to him, crossing my arms in front of me. My mind was still clouded by rage, and I couldn't even make out what was playing on the TV.

"Well?" I demanded.

"I think now would be a great time for you to give me a handjob," he declared.

Neil unzipped his pants, and fished his penis out of his fly. It flopped limply over to one side, and he looked at me expectantly. Was he truly insane? It had been years since I saw him naked, and I never imagined what my own son's penis would be like when he was an adult. It was hard trying to link my innocent angel to the monster who sat next to me.

"Well?" asked Neil, flipping the question.

"Is this some sort of sick fantasy of yours? That your own mother gives you a handjob?"

"Yeah, actually, it kinda is."

The most irritating thing about the whole situation was how calm he was about the whole situation. Like he had absolutely nothing in the world to worry about. I could easily have called the cops on him, and told them what he was doing. Except, I didn't. He was still my son, after all.

What if I just went along with, just this once? It was probably just some really stupid, sick fantasy of his that he was acting out on, nothing serious. Afterwards, he would come his senses, and apologize for his idiotic behavior. Honestly, asking your own mother for a handjob? Madness!

"Ok, I'm gonna do it just this once, but not because of any stupid coupon. I'm doing it so you can get your thrill, and then realize how stupid you've been acting."

"Sounds good, Mom," he said.

At least he agreed with me. I swallowed the knot that had formed in my throat, and took a deep breath. His cock was just lying there on his pants, taunting me. Better to get it over with. I reached out, and took his penis in my hand. It was much warmer than expected, and softer. After a tentative pump, it started to wake up and grow.

Very quickly, however, it grew. Another two pumps, and it was at full size. Neil was pretty much the same size as his dad, five inches, but not circumcised. And he had way less hair than Pete did. Did he shave? At the very least, he was well trimmed. Another pump, and to my surprise, it grew once again. Now he was definitely bigger, in every way. It had to be six, six and a half inches long. Maybe seven.

What was wrong with me? I shouldn't be looking at my son's dick, let alone touch it. And yet, I knew it was the way forward. After he came, his brain would snap out of it, like it always did with guys. I picked up my pace, feeling every ripple and vein on his shaft sliding along my hands. The quicker it was over, the better.

"Oh god, Mom, that's amazing," moaned Neil, and a shudder ran down my spine.

For twenty years, my sex life had been pretty steady. Pete and I had never been the adventurous types. The craziest thing we'd done was sex in the car, in a parking lot, back before we were married. Ever since then, we had sex three or four times a week, at least. Pete was a skilled lover, and I had no reason to complain. He always made sure I finished, too. We went on date nights twice a month. He bought me flowers throughout the year. In every single way, he was good to me.

So why the fuck did I feel like my whole body was under electricity, jerking off my own son. Why the fuck did I feel more alive, touching Neil's cock, than I did in twenty years of marriage. Why the fuck was I getting wetter, and wetter, the more I knew just how wrong the whole situation was.

Neil's eyes were closed, and his head leaned back. The tip of his cock was coated with pre-cum, making soft squishing noises with every pump. I moved my hand further up, encompassing his bulbous head in my fist. Immediately, my whole palm was coated in his secretions. Neil let out a moan, and I knew I was on the right track. Focusing on just his head, I gripped tightly, and jerked my hand up and down as fast as I could manage it.

Five seconds later, his cock erupted, and a long rope of cum shot high in the air, splattering onto the carpet. Another spurt followed, landing next to the first. The third one didn't shoot out, but rather leaked out, dribbling over my hand, and running down my knuckles. More cum flowed out of him, covering the back of my hand.

"Wow, that was incredi—"

"Shut up," I interrupted him. "That was it. You've had your sick fun, but now it's over."

Without saying another word, I got up, and almost sprinted to the bathroom. I turned on the water, and furiously scrubbed away his cum. God, there was so much fucking cum. My heart was beating a thousand times a second, and my whole body ached for its own release.

I left Neil sitting in the living room, and rushed up the stairs. I locked the door behind me, opened the bedside drawer, and pulled out the largest vibrator I owned. With a practiced motion, my pants dropped to the floor, and seconds later, I was kneeling on the bed, hand between my legs, shoving the buzzing silicone dick in me.

It slipped in easily, aided by the copious amounts of natural lubrication. Instantly, I felt some of the pressure relieve, as the vibrator worked its magic. I still wanted more, though, and dropped on my back. With both of my knees drawn to my chest, I used two hands to just hammer the vibrator in and out of me, faster than any man could. Wetness dripped out of my pussy, drenching my small bush.

My skin seemed to prickle with fire, and it started to envelop my whole body. Every nerve ending was ignited at the same time, and just for a little while, I was completely lost to the world.

After calming down again, I wiped off the vibrator on the sheets, and angrily threw it back into the drawer. I was upset with myself, for what had happened with Neil, and more importantly, for how good it had made me feel. My body's natural reaction had betrayed me. Normally, it took me at least ten minutes of foreplay, before I came, not ten seconds. I pressed my head into the pillow, and let out a loud howl of utter frustration.

At least that was the end, finally. Neil would be back to normal, and nobody would ever have to find out about me getting off. I went into the master bathroom, and looked at myself in the mirror.

I still look liked the same person as before, only my cheeks were slightly flushed. The same long, auburn hair. The same lush, full lips. The same small nose. The same brown eyes. I always thought I looked pretty damn good for being almost thirty eight.

I didn't feel the same, though. I felt like a cheaper version of myself. A dirtier version.

With a heavy sigh, I turned away from the mirror. I'd have to talk to Neil again, and make him see straight. But first, I had to put my underwear, and pants back on. I avoided looking at the drawer, while getting dressed.

Neil was still in the living room, watching TV. His cock was thankfully back in his pants, and the only remaining trace that anything had happened was a small wet spot on the carpet, where he must have cleaned up. He turned to look at me, and smiled.

"Do you have anything to stay?" I asked, trying to put as much firmness in my voice as possible.

"Yeah. You're going to make an excellent whore."

I closed my eyes, and tried not to scream. It was hard, but I barely managed it. I had to make him see reason, and moved between him and the screen, hands on my hips. He looked up at me.

"Seriously, you have to stop," I told him again.

"Why? I redeemed a coupon to make you my whore, and I intend to use it to its full extent."

"But—hey!"

Neil leaned forward, and grabbed the waistline of my pants. He pulled, and I toppled over, falling right into his lap. I tried to get up, but didn't have any good leverage. Neil moved his arm around my midriff, and held me closer. His other hand slipped under my t-shirt, and found its way upward to my bra. And then it slipped under my bra, and his fingers touched my bare skin.

"You have really nice tits," he commented. "I don't think you should be wearing bras anymore. Whores don't wear bras."

"I am not a—"

Neil interrupted me by pinching my nipple, hard. It wasn't so much the unexpected touch that interrupted me, but the shiver of excitement that rippled through my body. He resumed playfully kneading my boob, content with my silence.

All the strength I had seemed to leave me, and I sagged backwards against him. I couldn't believe how I managed to have gotten trapped so completely. I just laid there, helpless, while my own son fondled my tits, and called me a whore. The worst part wasn't even how completely wrong it was. The worst part was that having him touch me actually felt good. My body obviously didn't care that we were the same flesh and blood.

Sudden loud music made me pay attention to the TV for the first time. Had that thing been on, the entire time? I couldn't remember. Some guy in his thirties rode around on a horse, dodging bullets, while dramatic music played. I didn't recognize the movie, and I couldn't care less about it.

Neil seemed to be into it, though. He kept absentmindedly groping me, playing with my nipples, and running his fingers around them. His chest moved up and down with his breathing, and the beating of his heart actually resonated within my own body. Slow, and steady. Calm. The opposite of mine. He smelled slightly sweaty, and I remembered Tuesday was a gym day at his school.

Jesus, he had been at school the entire day, after giving me that coupon in the morning. I had been incredibly furious the entire day, but he probably just went about his business like usual. How the hell did he manage to stay so damn calm, while insulting his own mother?

Neil released me from his grip, and his other hand slipped under my pants.

"No!" I complained, but he didn't even slow down.

His fingers ran across the patch of pubic hair, and then I closed my eyes tightly, wishing that this whole thing had been just a dream, and I could wake up and everything would be back to normal. When his fingers made contact with my labia, I knew it hadn't worked.

"Wow, Mom. You're wet," he commented.

"It's just a body's natural reaction," I explained. "It has nothing to do with—"

"You mean, it's a WHORE's natural reaction," he corrected.

"Stop calling me that."

His fingers ran down my wet pussy, and I had to press my lips tightly together to stop myself from letting out a moan.

"You're right, it doesn't seem right to call you 'Mom' anymore, does it? That's not a whore name. Do you have a favorite whore name?"

"No, because I am not one," I defended myself.

"I've got a great one," he announced. "From now on your whore name is going to be... Carrot." One of his fingers slipped inside me of the moment he said the name.

I gasped, more from the outrage than the fact my own son's finger was inside of my pussy. "Don't you fucking dare!" How could he have the audacity? And why did it feel so good?

"I like it," he said quietly, and I wasn't sure whether he meant my pussy, or the nickname.

His finger pulled out again, and on the way out, he dragged the length of it across my clit. My body responded hungrily, demandingmore. I felt the need to get off start to be too strong, and I definitely did not want my son to realize. I gathered my strength, and grabbed his hand, pulling it out of my pants. With another monumental effort, I stood up, and his other hand dropped down.

I didn't look at him, or say anything, I just started walking out of the living room. Just when I reached the doorway to the kitchen, Neil said something that made me freeze in my steps.

"You're not going to go upstairs again, and masturbate, are you, Carrot?"

"What? How did you...?"

"The walls aren't that thick, Mom."

"Were you spying on me?" I asked, anger briefly flaring up.

"Yes."

Neil got up, and walked past me into the kitchen. I still hadn't taken another step, and just watched him warily, like a cat backed into a corner. He walked to the fridge, opened it, and after briefly rummaging around in the vegetable drawer, apparently found what he was looking for. He held up his prize, so I could see it. A fairly large, bright orange Carrot.

Neil turned on the tap, and used the vegetable brush to scrub the root clean. When he was satisfied, he gave me a smirk, and tossed it at me. It thumped against my chest, and more out of instinct than anything else, my hands moved to catch it.

I still hadn't been able to bring myself to move from the spot, mortified by the whole situation. Neil approached me, grabbed my arm, and led me back into the living room, depositing me in front of the couch, like a mannequin.

"Come on, Carrot. You've got your namesake in your hand, you don't need to go upstairs for a dildo," he said, sitting back down on the couch, and turned off the TV.

"You can't honestly expect me to just do this in front of you," I protested.

"It's like you're reading my mind."

"How far is this going to go?"

"Until Dad gets back, just like it says on the coupon."

"I didn't mean how long. I meant what are you going to make me do?" I realized what I had said after the words came out of my mouth. It was no longer "you can't do this." No, it was a tacit acceptance of the fact that he was going to make do things, and I seemed powerless to stop it.

"Everything I can think of, and more," he announced, and once again, a ripple of excitement coursed through my body.

"If I do this one thing, then afterwards we can stop?" I pleaded.

"Maybe," he replied.

I knew that "maybe" in all likelihood meant "no," but I clung to the chance anyway. It was my only way out.

"Wh—What do you want me to do?" I asked.

Neil smiled at me, and nodded appreciatively. "Take off your pants," he instructed.

I had expected it, of course, but that didn't make it any better. I fought the urge to scream, and unbuckled the belt on my jeans. It was stupid, and it was sick, and it was wrong, but if I just did this one thing, he might leave me alone. I undid the button on my jeans, with the carrot still in one hand, and pushed the pants down my legs. My son had seen me wear bikinis before, and this was practically the same thing. No, it wasn't even as much, considering I still had my shirt on. And yet, it felt a hundred times more intimate.

"And now your panties," he instructed, after I stepped out of the jeans.

"Really?" I whined.

"Uh huh."

I took another deep breath, and slid down my panties. Neil whistled, and I didn't even bother reproaching him for it. There didn't seem to be a point to it.

"Now get down on all fours. No, the other way around, Carrot. I want to see your magnificent pussy."

The carpet seemed especially hard on my knees. It was incredibly embarrassing being like that in front of him. The cool air brushed against my exposed privates, and he must have had a really good view of them. My own son, looking at his mother's wet pussy. It was unimaginable, and yet it happened. I looked between my legs, and could just about see up to his knees. The rest of him was hidden from view. From my labia, a single strand of mucus hung down, swaying gently back and forth, a telltale sign of my body betraying me, once again.

"You are gorgeous, Carrot," Neil commented. "Now do what you've been wanting to do with your namesake."

I considered the object in my hands. It wasn't as big as my vibrator, but it would probably suffice. It even had a few small ridges that would probably feel pretty good sliding in and out of me. I placed the thicker end of the carrot against my pussy, and slid the whole thing along my labia.

Oh god, it felt so good to relieve all that tension. For just a moment, I completely forgot my son was even there. Maybe that was just the thing I needed. I pressed the big end of the carrot up against my hole, and stopped caring who was watching.

The bumps on the root were unfamiliar, and hard, but it was excitingly new. Coated with my juices, it slid easily in and out of me, and I settled into a nice, fast rhythm. Occasionally I took it out, and ran it along my clit, every little bump magnified a thousandfold.

Very quickly, I forgot about everything around me, and just focused on my own needs. I couldn't remember another time in my past when I've been so fucking horny, and my climax was rapidly approaching.

"Turn around," commanded Neil.

With a startled shock, I realized where I was again. On all fours, half naked, in front of my own son, masturbating. The shame burned almost as hot as my inner fire, and I knew I was about to explode.

I turned around to face him, gripping the carrot with my pussy. Neil still sat on the couch, but he had his cock out, and was stroking it slowly. Looking up at it from the ground, it seemed even bigger.

"On your back," he instructed.

I did as he asked, and laid down on the carpet. Deciding that I didn't want him to give me another command, I resumed masturbating with the carrot. He probably would have told me to do it anyway, but it felt good making my own choice for once. In and out, in and out. In that position, I was able to use both hands, and I made good use of my freedom, rubbing my clit with my fingers, while pushing the vegetable with the other hand.

Neil was observing the whole thing, fascinated by what he saw. My own hunger had driven me far beyond the point of caring, however. At that point, all I wanted to do was cum. If that meant doing it with my son watching, then so be it.

It didn't take that much longer, either, and before I knew it, another massive orgasm swept me away. I gripped the carrot tightly, trying to stoke the fire, and it snapped in half under the pressure. My entire body ached under the intense strain, and I came harder than ever before.

After it dissipated slightly, I closed my eyes, dropped my head down to the ground, and just relaxed. Deep, satisfied breaths, disturbed only by the sound of my son masturbating furiously. I pushed the broken half of the carrot out of me, and felt it plop to the ground.

A few moments later, warm splashes of something hit my lower leg. Another splash hit me on the thigh. I opened my eyes, and Neil was in the middle of a climax. Another spurt of cum shot out of his cock, and landed on my foot.

"Damn, Carrot, that was great," he announced, slumping back against the couch.

Silently, I agreed. Out loud, not so much. "It's wrong."

"I know," Neil agreed. "That's what makes it so great, doesn't it?"

Why did he have to make such good points? It wasn't fair. Even now, my body still demanded satisfaction, and I was afraid of how far I would actually go. At least nobody would ever find out about it. As soon as Pete came back, everything would be back to normal, and we could forget about the whole thing. But, until then...

Neil slid off the couch, and landed on his knees on the ground. He scooted forward, right between my legs. My heart started beating faster, and faster, guessing what was about to happen. His cock was somehow erect again, sticking out menacingly. His hands gripped my thighs, and he spread my legs wide. My aching pussy was inches away from his dick.

I couldn't believe that my own son was about to fuck me, and... I was not exactly looking forward to it, but I wasn't NOT looking forward to it, either. Unless I said something in the next few seconds, he would actually slide his big cock in me. I just had to say something, and he'd stop.