Surprise!

 

Merry XXX-Mas

 

Cosplay Lady

 

Morticia

 

Siouxsie Redux

 

The Big Dance

When we moved to the big city after my father died, I had a hard time adjusting to my new school.  In the little town where I grew up, I had managed to fade into the wallpaper for years.  When I got to the new school it felt like the spotlight was on me all the time and I hated it.  There was some kind of novelty of the country kid at the big inner city school.  I had a hard time making friends but no trouble making enemies.  It could have been that I dressed a little funny and didn't have the sophistication of my classmates but, for whatever reason, I attracted bullies like bees to honey. 

The person who reveled in humiliating me and beating me up the most was the star forward on the school's basketball team, David  Franklin, which made him virtually untouchable by the administration. The entire school system seemed to revolve around team sports and the best players got away with murder... almost literally. 

My mom didn't have time to listen to all of my problems and the so-called "guidance counsellors" were good for nothing apart from test prep for graduation.  

Mom was getting fed up with me coming home with black eyes, bruises, and other abrasions.  She seemed to get as angry with me as David Franklin.  "Why can't you stand up for yourself?" she would scream at me before sending me to my room.    I wasn't safe at home or at school.  

Then, one day when I came home from school I found my mom waiting for me with a big smile on her face.  I hadn't seen her smiling at me in months.  "Louis, I finally figured out how to solve your problems," she said.  "It's not going to be easy and it's not going to be fast but I know it will work.  Do you trust me?"

I assured her that I did and, after David had beaten me up just an hour before, I was ready for any kind of solution she might have.

She stood up and I followed her to her bedroom where there were clothes laid out across her bed.  "This is for you," she said.  "It's the first step."  

I didn't understand what she meant as she pointed at the blouse and dress across her bed.  "Go on now, put these on."  I started to protest and she yelled, "I said put on the fucking clothes and you're going to do it! Now, take your clothes off and put these on, now!"

I hesitated when I reached my underwear.  "Go on, it's nothing I haven't seen before," she told me.  

I took them off and she handed me a little piece of cloth. I didn't know what it was at first until I held it up and saw that it was a pair of pink panties.  I almost balked until I looked down and saw the bruises on my chest.  I was resigned to do whatever it took to stop being bullied and if Mom said that this was it, this was it.  

I put on the panties, followed by the skirt and blouse.  "That's right. That's very nice," she said, soothingly.  She walked around me, touching the blouse, adjusting the skirt.  I had never been touched like that before, much less by my own mother.  

"How does that make you feel?" she asked, almost cooing the words.

"It feels okay," I admitted, enjoying her gentle touch.  "It makes me feel odd... almost like...  like I feel weak in the knees."

"It's not odd," she corrected.  "It's queer.  I realized that the reason you're having so many problems is that you're not like the other boys... are you?  You're weak.  You're feminine.  You're a little queer boy."

As she spoke my body began to react.  I felt the blood rush to my face when I realized that I was getting aroused wearing these girls' clothes. 

"Every day when you come home from school, you're going to put on what I have picked out for you.  No questions.  No excuses.  We're going to make you into the perfect girl.  Do you understand?"

"I think so, Mom." I said.  

"No, no.  When you're dressed like that, you're no longer my son.  You're my little slave girl.  And you'll address me as 'Mistress.' Got it?"

"Uh, yes, Mistress?"

"We're going to make this part of the process as pleasant as possible.  I want you to associate being my girl with pleasure.  I want you to look forward to being my sweet slave girl," she said, running her hand over my skirt.   She felt how hard I had gotten and laughed.  "Looks like it's working already."

Things went on like this for a few weeks.  I would come home from school to find different outfits on Mistress's bed, some of them were dowdy, then they began to get more risque.  She also added in stockings, garters, and other bits of lingerie.  She began to teach me how to put on make-up, and even had a small selection of wigs for me to put on.  

Every night before bed she'd put me into a short nightgown and read me stories while her hand trailed over the front of my panties.   The stories started off as tales of a man and woman having sex, described in great detail.  But then they began to introduce other situations.  There were a lot of words I'd have to ask Mistress to define.  After a while the stories all dealt with a man doing things with another man dressed in women's clothes.   Mistress seemed to touch me the most vigorously during these stories. 

I really looked forward to coming home from school and dressing up for Mistress.  I noticed, too, that my days at school seemed to be going better.  David Franklin didn't even look at me anymore.  I felt like everything was going my way now. 

When Christmas came, Mistress had me stay in my girl clothes throughout the entire break.  On Christmas morning she had me come down and open presents. I received package after package of things like perfume, padded bras, and a few things that puzzled me.  

"Don't worry, dear, I'll show you what those things are for.  But, first, I want to show you what you got me for Christmas."  She opened a big box under the tree to reveal something that had a bunch of long leather straps and something that looked like a large male penis.  She stood up and began manipulating the straps until she was wearing it.  "This is called a strap-on, my little girl.  Come here and get a closer look."

I was intrigued and a little scared.  "Now, get down on your knees here in front of me," she pointed.  I was face to face with the plastic penis.   She told me to kiss it and I did.  She told me to wrap my lips around it and I did.  She held my head and began to push it in and out of my mouth.  I started choking when she went to far into my mouth and she tsked.  "We'll need to work on that," she said.  "This is the next phase, little girl.  Get ready to learn how to please a cock."

For the rest of Christmas break, Mistress kept that cock in my mouth more than it was out.  I found that one of my Christmas gifts was a gag that she would put in my mouth at night that had a cock-shape that  I could continue to suck on all night long.   I began to dream Mistress coming into my room and forcing her cock in my mouth while I slept.  

Another thing she got me was a device that would open my mouth and keep it open.  She would have me sit in the corner of the room, my mouth stretched open.  Occasionally she'd come over to me and spit into my open mouth.  She began tying my hands behind my back and I had to learn how to balance myself on my knees for long periods of time. 

After Christmas break, I would come home, don my outfit, and then give Mistress head, sometimes for an hour or more straight.  My jaw ached at first but I soon began to get used to it, if not enjoy it. 

When I had Mistress's cock in my mouth she would call me names, some of them the same things that David Franklin would call me: sissy, faggot, bitch, slut, cocksucker, cumguzzler.  The way she said them were musical.  I found myself sucking her harder and faster each time she called me something. 

One Spring morning, Mistress woke me up  and told me to make haste and get into the shower.  While I was in there, she came into the bathroom and opened the curtain.  She held a razor in her hand and told me that she would be shaving me completely, taking the downy hair off of my chest and legs.  "Today is a very special day," she told me.  "I have a big surprise for you after school!"  She wouldn't say any more than that and I spent all day in anticipation. 

When I came home, the outfit on my mother's bed was something I never expected.  It was a long, peach-colored dress, the kind of things I'd seen girls wear to dances.  Then it dawned on me.  Today was the day of the Spring Formal.  A cold chill went down my spine. 

I felt her hands on my shoulders.  "That's right, sweetheart.  It's time to make your debut!  You've been so good at dressing up and being a pretty girl for me.  Tonight you're going to the big dance!"

I wanted to scream.  I wanted to protest.  Being dressed up in my own house was one thing, but to go out into the world?  For other people to see me?  It was too much.   I turned and began to speak.  Before I could get a word out, Mistress slapped my face. 

"I know what you were going to say.  This isn't a debate.  Get dressed and ready.  Tonight is your debut and nothing is changing that."

I was shocked to tears.  I had to wait until I was done crying before I could even think about putting on my make-up. 

Mistress helped me secure and style my wig.  She had beautiful clip-on earrings for me and a matching necklace.  As she put on the finishing touches, the doorbell rang.  "There's your date!" she chirped.  

Date?  Why hadn't it dawned on me that I wasn't going to this dance alone?  My mind completely fell apart.  I heard Mistress call to me from the living room, "Come and say hello to your date!"

I don't remember standing up and walking to the living room.  All I remember is the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach when I came into the room and found David Franklin standing by the door, a corsage in his hand.  

"There she is," Mistress said, "just as I promised."  Promised?  How was this happening?  What was going on?

"Wow," he said.  "The pictures you sent were great but I didn't know just how lovely she'd be in person."  Pictures?

"Come over here," Mistress commanded.  I did as she said.  David asked for my arm and I gave it to him.  His touch was electric.  The last time I'd felt him touch me it had been his fist in my stomach.  Then it dawned on me.  After Mom had started dressing me up, David had left me alone.  Pictures?  Promised?   Had they planned this?

"That's lovely," Mistress said.  "Isn't it?"  She nudged me.  "Thank him.  Thank your date." 

"Thank you," I murmured.  

"I think we're ready!" Mistress said.  "Come on now, I'll drive you up to the dance so you can sit together."

This was the first time I had stepped outside wearing girl clothes. I dutifully followed Mistress to our car and climbed in the back seat behind her while David got in the other side.  He took my hand in his and clutched my fingers tight.  He kept looking at me, like he was devouring me with his eyes.

Mistress kept looking back in the rear-view mirror and talking to us.  "Don't you two make a great couple!  She's so pretty and he's so handsome."

The drive to the school took forever.  David began playing with my hair, tracing my jawline with his thick fingers.  Despite myself, I felt like I was going to melt at his touch.  How could this beast who had never had anything but contempt and violence against me now be touching me this way?  And how could I be enjoying it?

We pulled up to the front door of the school.  "David, send me a text when you're ready and I'll come pick you two up," Mistress said.

He came around and let me out of the car.  I felt like I was in a dream as we walked into the dance.  Was everyone looking at me or did it just feel that way?  David's teammates greeted him with fist bumps and high fives, never even acknowledging that I was there.   Had he told them about his date? Did they all know who I was?  What I was?  

The lights in the auditorium dimmed and a slow song came over the loudspeakers.  David grabbed my arm and took me to the dancefloor where he put his arm around me and began to sway. 

"This is your special night tonight,' he whispered in my ear, his breath causing the hairs on my neck to stand up.  "Your mother and I  worked this out months ago and I've been waiting patiently for this.  She's made you into a little bitch and tonight you're going to be my little bitch."

The world went fuzzy.  His words seemed to cut through me like a knife.  Deep in the pit of my stomach I knew what he meant.  All those times my Mom... er... Mistress had me suck her plastic cock, all the times she would grab onto the back of my head and force it so deep that I would choke.  I suddenly knew what it was for. 

I had the rest of the night to think about what David might do to me.  I was utterly distracted, trying to play his date, drinking mocktails and dutifully hanging on his every word.  The rest of his friends' dates wanted nothing to do with me, looking at me with disdain.   Though, at one point, Cindy Tessen stood up from our table and pointedly said to me, "I think us girls should go to the powder room."  I looked to David who nodded his agreement so I went with her. 

As soon as we got into the girls' bathroom, Cindy grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me up against the wall.  "I don't know what kind of game you're playing," she hissed.  "David told me last week that we weren't going to the dance together and that I was going with Chuck Varton.  Who the fuck do you think you are?"

I hesitated to answer, as I wasn't sure if she knew who I really was or not.  The captain of the girl's basketball team, she stood a half head taller than me.  I looked up into her eyes, pleadingly. She slapped me across the face, motivating me to answer her.  I kept my mouth shut.  She slapped me again, hitting me so hard that I fell to the ground before she spun on her heel and left.  I remained in the bathroom, trying to stem my tears before touching up my make-up and returning to the table where Cindy glared at me until the next slow dance.  

As David and I swayed to the music I felt him pressing up against me, his hard cock hot against my stomach.  I gasped a little when he took my hand and put it on the front of his tuxedo pants. "This is for you, you little faggot.  All this meat is going to be inside you tonight.  I'm going to split you in two."

Rather than scare me, this turned me on and I didn't know where that feeling was coming from.  I wanted to fall to my knees right there on the dancefloor and rub my face against the front of David's pants.  I think I may have gasped a little and that caused David to chuckle, "Such a fucking little faggot," he said. 

I spent the rest of the night either at the basketball team's table or on the dancefloor with David.  When we were at the table, he would put my hand on his crotch and rub him.  I was amazed, feeling the outline of his hard cock.  I was glad that Mistress had been building me up to take bigger and bigger cocks.  I kept catching myself, wondering why I was looking forward to being sexually abused and used by David.  This wasn't right but I found myself getting more and more aroused at the thought. 

Finally, David sent a text to Mistress that we were ready to leave.  She and David talked the whole way home, discussing how pretty I looked and how everyone reacted to me.  I had been in such a state that I wasn't even aware of these reactions.  David had me tell him about what Cindy had done and he laughed about it.   "She'll get over it," he assured me, "Especially next week when I tell her she gets to use you just like I do."

When we got back to our house I found that Mistress had been busy while we were away.  Our living room was lit with candles while low music played in the background.  She had really outdone herself setting a romantic scene.  Mistress excused herself and came back with two glasses of wine, handing one to David as he sat next to me on the couch.  She took the other and went across the living room to sit.  

There was a pregnant pause as they sipped their wine and I sat there nervously.  Finally, David took my hand and placed it again on his crotch.  

"I know what you want," he said, "but you have to ask for it."

It felt like my voice was hidden.  I searched for it, trying to find the air to push out the words.  I said something that I couldn't even hear.  I cleared my throat and tried again, "David, I want to suck you."

"Just suck?" he asked.  "Do you want to be my faggot girlfriend?"

I nodded.

"No, you have to say it," he told me.  

"Yes, please.  I want to be your faggot girlfriend."

He undid his belt and button before unzipping his pants.  "Go ahead, take it out," he told me.

I put my hands in his pants, feeling the heat from his cock.  I pulled it out, revealing a fully erect cock that must have been at least 9 inches long.  I had never seen a cock that size in real life, only in the dirty movies that Mistress had been showing me before bed.  

I fell upon it like I was starving.  I didn't hesitate for a second before thrusting it as deep into my mouth as I could.  Somewhere a voice said, "Easy, baby, take it easy."  I backed off it and began worshipping him with my mouth, doing to him what Mistress had taught me.  

I suddenly felt the need to thank David for the last few months of peace.  He had hurt me so badly before and now I could thank him for stopping.  Now I could give him pleasure and show him how much I appreciated him not hitting me.  

"Get up and take off your dress," Mistress told me.  Obediently, I stood and began to unzip myself.  She joined me, helping me get out of the dress, revealing the special lingerie she had bought for the occasion.  I stood in front of David wearing matching pink bra, panties, garters, and stockings. 

"I never want you to not be wearing that under your clothes from now on, do you understand?" he asked.  

"Yes," I replied.

"From now on you'll call me Master when we're alone or with your Mother."

"Yes, Master," I whispered. 

"Good.  Now get down here and keep sucking me, bitch."

I dropped immediately to my knees and began to worship his cock again.  "You have to take him deeper, remember?"  Mistress asked.  I felt her hand on the back of my head, pushing me down too far on David's cock.  I began to choke but she wouldn't let me move.  Then I felt David grab my nose, leaving me unable to breathe.  I struggled and writhed but this only seemed to make David's cock get harder and go deeper into my throat.  

After what felt like five minutes he let go of my nose and Mistress released my head.  I sputtered and coughed, taking David's cock out of my mouth.  

"Get up and lay back on the couch," he told me.  "Put your head here."  He patted the arm rest. 

I did as he asked.  He came around and stood over me at the end of the couch, sliding his cock into my mouth again.  He began thrusting his cock deep into my throat.  I felt a hand on my little dick and heard Mistress say, "That's good.  You're making me very proud of you."  

David began pumping harder.  I felt his hands grab ahold of my bra for leverage as he fucked my mouth with abandon.  Then I felt something that I had never experienced before.  It felt like I was drooling though I know I wasn't.  I heard David yelling as my mind when white.  I tasted something strange and knew that he was cumming in my mouth.  I was finally making my bully feel good and I was so happy.  I drank, slurping his cum, and moaning with my own pleasure of feeling him orgasm and knowing that I helped.  

Mistress patted my dick, pulling my panties back up over my little erection.  "Good job, slut," she said.

David left his cock in my mouth, allowing me to clean him before he took it out.  He looked down and patted my cheek.

David  grabbed his glass of wine and finished it in a gulp.  Mistress hurried to refill his glass.  He looked down at me and I suddenly felt very sexy.  I began to pose for him on the couch, still tasting him on my tongue.  

"What do you say?" he asked.

"Thank you, Master," I replied, a little shocked at how quickly I responded as well as the breathy sound in my voice.  I realized that I felt like a dog in heat and missed David's cock in my mouth.  I had a taste and wanted more. 

It didn't take long before I got my second taste.  David sat back down on the couch and allowed me to suck on his cock while he and Mistress talked.  They began talking about me as if I wasn't there, outlining a plan of when I would be spending the night in my own bed, when David would stay with us, and when I would visit him at his house.  

Then Mistress said something that truly gave me pause when she told him that she would start a new training regimen the following weekend.  "I think it's time to train her little pussy to take that big cock of yours, David." 

Miss Me?

It's been such a long time since I've written anything.  I'm not the first to say it but I think of writing as a muscle and that muscle has atrophied from lack of use.  Not only have I not had the time for writing but I haven't had the time for fun either.  One might think that in this mad world that I could or should let my imagination run wild and fill these pages with a whole new bevy of stories.  Unfortunately, that's not been the way things have worked out for me.  

But know, dear readers, that I'm still here.  I still have dirty thoughts rolling around in my head and just need to take that step of getting them down "on paper". 

Do you have any requests?  Any subjects that you think we might both be interested in?  Do you want to provide me with inspiration?  Please leave me your thoughts or send me some inspiration. 

Hammer Time

 

Love is in the Air

New Crush: Paloma Faith

Dirty Magazines

When I came home from school that day, my mom was fuming. I wasn't even able to make it from the front door to my room before I heard her bellow from the kitchen, "Louis! Get in here, NOW!"

I began to run through a mental list of all of my recent wrong-doings. Had I forgotten to empty the dishwasher? Change the cat litter? It sounded much more serious than leaving the wet laundry in the washer too long. What could I have done to earn such ire?

My heart sank when I got to the kitchen to find my mom sitting at the table with my entire collection of pornographic magazines spread out, facing away from her, like exhibits A through M.

"I was cleaning your room today and you'll never guess what I found," she said snidely. "A whole bunch of nudie magazines." She spread her hand out across the them like a game show model displaying my debauchery. "I shouldn't have to remind you, young man, that you're too young to legally be in possession of these things. Worse, I am shocked by the content of them. Let's take a look, shall we?"

She began flipping through the pages of one of that magazines that was facing me. She knew it well enough, it seemed, that she could flip to the offending page with relative ease. Spread across two pages was a full-color glossy image of a very buxom transsexual with a very hard cock.

"As if it wasn't bad enough that you're looking at adult material, you're looking at god damn trannies," she sneered. I wanted to speak up about using a politically incorrect term but knew I should keep my mouth shut.

"My boy isn't old enough to have these kinds of things and he certainly be looking at stuff like this," she said, pointing to the engorged cock, "unless, that is, you like this stuff.... I mean, have a raised a little faggot?"

She waited for my response but I gave her none.

"Well? Have I?" she yelled.

"No, Mom," I whispered, not sure if I was telling the truth or not.

"You like girls, then, Louis? Do you?"

"Yes, Mom," I said, a little more confidence in my voice.

"What kind of girls do you like? Be specific."

"Do you mean who do I like?" I asked, confused.

"No, I mean what kind of girls? What kind of girl turns on my son?"

I lapsed into silence, not sure what to say. I had one particular girl in mind but wasn't sure how best to describe her.

"This is ridiculous," she said. "Do we need to wait until your father gets home to continue this conversation?"

I panicked at the idea of my dad, not the nicest of men, having anything to do with what we were discussing. I was hoping to just sweep it all under the rug and forget that this ever happened.

"No! Please!" I cried with more desperation in my voice than I had planned.

"Then tell me what kind of girl you like. Is she short? Tall? Black? White? Skinny? Fat?"

Once I opened my mouth the words just fell out: "She's white, blonde, a little on the shorter side, she's not fat but she had a lot of curves, she's older than me, and has a beautiful smile."

The words hung in the air. My mom looked from the cover of one of the magazines, "40 Plus Lovers", up to me.

"Does she have green eyes and a sweet ass?" she asked wryly.

"They look green sometimes and hazel other times," I said wistfully.

"Then this problem is even worse than I thought," she said, crossing her arms across her chest. "This is definitely not something we can bring to your father," she added.

"No, I don't think that would be a good idea."

"What do you think we should do about this?" she asked.

Thinking that she meant the magazines I suggested that we throw everything out and forget the whole thing.

"I don't think that's going to solve the larger problem," she said. "I know boys your age have urges but it sounds like these are unhealthy urges. It sounds like you're fascinated by someone you shouldn't be. And that's a real problem."

"I know it is," I sighed. It seems that she had certainly understood who I had been describing. I didn't know what kind of response this would garner but I was amazed that she was taking it this well. I had been afraid of more yelling and screaming. I never thought we'd be having the conversation we were having. I thought that this would be a secret that I'd have to keep all my life. It filled me with such shame and the shame was still there even after having admitted it. I don't know when I first realized what was going on but I know that for the prior six months that not a day had gone by without trying to drive the idea out of my head.

"I don't want this to drive us apart," she said. "This isn't easy for you and it isn't easy for me either. Though I really can't say it's that much of a surprise. I've noticed the way you've been acting lately and knew that something was up. There's really no easy solution for this. For now, I want you to take all of these magazines back to your room and put them back in your bottom drawer. We'll decide later what we're going to do with them and what we're going to do about this situation. Otherwise, no one has to know. Understood?"

I nodded, not sure what to say. I gathered up all of the magazines into one unwieldy pile before rushing off to my room with my treasured pornography. I carried them at waist level in order to cover the growing erection I had. Mom knew now. She knew that I had fallen in lust with her. This turned me on, knowing that she knew how I thought of her.

---

Nothing was said over the next three days despite my mind now being a rage of fantasies about my mom. I found myself avoiding her when I could, staying in my room and masturbating furiously as I thought about her.

Friday afternoon when I got home from school, mom was waiting for me. She was sitting in the chair directly opposite of our front door. I was immediately struck by the outfit she wore: one of her black business suits that she often went to work in. These power suits always filled my head with fantastic images of what she might be wearing underneath. I loved the way the black fabric contrasted her pale skin, especially that of her ample breasts.

There was no greeting, no kiss hello. Instead, she told me, "There are some things we need to get clear, Louis. Important things. Come in and have a seat."

I did as she said, looking at her legs in her stockings and her high-heeled shoes as I cross the room to the couch.

"I've thought a lot about what we discussed the other day," she said, tenting her fingers in front of her. "I think that we can come to some kind of understanding that will be good for the both of us. Your father hasn't been very attentive to me the last few years and your mother has needs that haven't been met. I want you to listen to me, and listen good. This kind of thing that I'm proposing is not, repeat not something accepted in our society. This is something that can never leave this house. You may never speak to anyone about this at any time. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," I nodded.

"No, I need you to say the words. I need to hear you say them."

"I can't talk about this to anyone," I said.

"That's right. Do I have you word on that? Your solemn oath?"

"Yes, yes, you do."

"Good," she said, standing up. "Follow me."

She led me down the hall saying, "This is my bedroom but from time to time it will be our bedroom. It's only when I invite you in here and I can kick you out at any time. Understood?"

"Yes, I think I understand."

"Good," she said, closing the door behind me. She came to me and kissed me in a way she never kissed me before. She opened her mouth over mine and she pushed her tongue into my mouth. She sent electricity through my body, I felt my cock stiffen completely and I pushed it up against her. She moaned, wrapping her arms around me, and pulling me tighter.

With one hand, she began unbuttoning her jacket, revealing that she only war a bra underneath. She moved one of my hands from her hip to her breasts and I felt the lace of her bra under my palm. I wanted to take her bra off but I had no idea how to do it. I reached behind her, trying to find the hooks. She laughed and I stopped what I was doing. She stepped back and reached between her cups and undid the clasp there. She removed her suit coat before opening her bra and taking the straps off of her shoulders.

Her bare breasts loomed before me, inviting me. I found myself lowering my mouth to one of her nipples, sucking it to attention.

I felt my mother's hand on my crotch, feeling the outline of my cock and squeezing. I groaned aloud around her nipple, breaking for a second to catch my breath as she kneaded me over my pants.

"I'm going to teach you, Louis, to please me, to make me happy. Is that what you want?" she asked, holding tightly onto my cock through my pants.

"Yes," I mumbled into her breast.

"I know you've never been with a woman so I'll be patient. But it will be worth the rewards, for you and for me." With that, I felt her hand move to my belt and undo it in one single motion before unbuttoning my pants. "Take them down, Louis, I want to see what we're working with," she said, moving to sit back on her bed.

I did as she told me, though I was hesitant to get naked in front of her for a brief moment, especially as I felt like she was judging me.

My cock sprang forth from my underwear, bobbing in front of me. I let my pants fall to the floor and stepped out of them.

"That's no way to treat your clothes," she said, always the mother. I picked up my pants and folded them before putting them on a decorative rocking chair in the corner of her room, doing the same for my shirt. I turned around, feeling exposed as she looked me over. She signaled for me to come closer so she could reach out and touch my cock, stroking me gently. "Very nice," she said.

She unzipped her skirt and slid it off.

"Get down on your knees," she said, pulling her underwear down, exposing the dark thatch of her pubic hair. She spread her legs in front of me, exposing her pussy to me. She pulled her lips apart with her fingers, pointing to her clit and telling me to put my tongue there and lick her gently.

I did as I was told, tasting her salty flavor. She began moaning as I licked, feeling the hard nub of her cock under my tongue. "Harder," she said, "Put a finger inside me."

I began licking her harder. I wasn't sure exactly where to put my finger so I felt around where I was licking, feeling how wet her pussy was, until I found her opening and slid a finger in. I felt her pussy grasping at my finger as I slid it in and out of her, pretending to fuck. "Yes, Louis, good boy... fuck your mommy's hole," she hissed.

In my excitement I began licking her harder and faster. "Get it! Get it!" she began to chant. I didn't know what she wanted me to get so I kept doing what I was doing. She began writhing. Suddenly I felt something warm and wet on my chin; she started yelling something I couldn't understand and more liquid squirted at my face, flooding around my finger. I tasted the liquid, it was warm, salty, and not unpleasant. I kept licking and she kept writhing until she locked her thighs around my head and said, "Enough, enough."

She let me go and I leaned back onto my heels. "Come up here," she said, patting the bed. I came up and laid down next to her as she moved back onto the bed. "You did that very well. You have some things I need to teach you but that was good. Now I want you to fuck me. I'm going to roll over and get on my knees and I want you to put your penis inside of me."

She got onto her hands and knees next to me and I got behind her. I had dreamed about what she would look like in this position before but I had no idea that it would be so wonderful. I admired the shape of her ass and found myself kissing it before kneeling up and aiming my cock at her pussy. I had a feeling that this was a real turning point in my life, I was having sex for the first time and I was having it with the woman who birthed me. This is what I wanted and this is what she wanted.

As soon as I felt the wetness of her on my cock and began easing it into her I thought to myself that I was going to want this all the time. I pictured myself coming home every day after school and finding her at home waiting for me, maybe even like this, on her hands and knees on her bed with me coming in, pulling out my cock, and putting it in her.

I pushed harder into her and felt her pussy gripping at me. I began to slide in and out, slowly at first but I wanted to feel what it felt like faster. I began moving my hips, I put my hands on her shoulders and pulled her back onto me when I was all the way in, driving as hard and deep as I could. She moaned and shuddered as I got all the way inside her. I had never experienced anything that felt so good.

I loved the way she moved on me and the noises she made. I never anticipated this kind of interaction after only having looked at dirty magazines. I put my hands on her hips, feeling her soft flesh beneath my hands. I felt the feeling of an orgasm building inside of me and my mother could feel it too. She began demanding that I cum inside of her.

When she looked over her shoulder into my eyes and told me, "Fill me up, Louis, give it to me," I couldn't take it one second longer and exploded inside her. I kept moving my hips long after I had cum, still reeling at the sensation of being inside her.

She eased forward, down onto her stomach, before rolling to my side. "You have one more thing you need to do, honey," she said gravely. "You need to clean your mother up."

I started to get up to get a washcloth from the bathroom. "Where are you going? I mean you need to clean me up with your tongue. You need to eat up every bit of what you just put in me. You're never to leave me soppy, is that understood?"

I didn't really understand but nodded anyway. I hadn't read anywhere in the dirty magazines about a man licking his own cum out of a woman but I imagined that my mother knew best. So, I got between her legs and began sucking and licking her pussy. It tasted much different than before and I imagined this was because of me cumming inside her. I tasted her familiar flavor mixed with something new. When I found this new flavor I would do my best to lap it up, swallowing every bit.

I wasn't sure how well my tongue was cleaning her up rather than just getting her wet with my spit. But, I did as she told me. I wasn't sure when to stop licking her and kept doing it. Then, I began to hear the same noises that she had made before. And, as before, I put my finger back inside of her only to feel her shudder. I began concentrating my tongue on the spot I had before, licking her faster then slower then faster again. "Oh, fuck," she said before she began flooding my mouth again with her wetness. I tried drinking up every drop she sprayed from her pussy but was unable to. Instead, it got all over my face, my chest, and her sheets.

Again, she let me continue until she closed her thighs around my head, pulling my mouth away from her pussy. Was it wrong that I wanted to keep licking her so much?

"Shit, we're going to have to change the sheets before bed," she said, getting up and leaving the room. I wasn't sure what to do with myself other than watch her leave, enjoying the sight of her ass as she left.

When she came back, still naked but with clean sheets in her arms, she made me assure her once again that I would not speak of our relationship to anyone. "If you tell anyone, you won't have sex ever again," she said, "Not with me, not with anyone. I'll cut your fucking dick off, is that understood?"

I nodded mutely, not sure if she was joking or not. I think I realized that she wasn't when she produced a small box and removed the contents; a hard piece of plastic that I couldn't begin to make out as to its purpose.

She put the strap of the contraption around my ball and the hard plastic part around the head of my cock. In one swift movement she removed something from it -- a key! "This is also part of our agreement," she told me. "I want to make sure that you don't get tempted by any of those sluts you go to school with. You're only to have sex with me and only when I say, only when I free you. Now, take your clothes and go back to your room. Not a word to your father about this. Good night," she said, giving me a kiss on the lips before she began stripping the bed.

Dazed, I left the room, naked save for the strange device that had been locked around my cock. I would struggle with this for the rest of the night, especially when I would think about how arousing my mother was. Now looking at those dirty magazines was a useless thing as I wasn't allowed to get myself off at all, only with mom and only when dad wasn't around.

Happy Easter