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HisFathersSon

Copyright 1998, Shakespeare_I._ Aint. ALL Rights Reserved

His Father's Son, by Shakespeare_I._ Aint ( m/F d/s, incest,humiliation)

His Father's Son, Part 1, by Shakespeare I. Aint

Jack was approaching his seventeenth birthday the night his Mother,
Susan Hornher, brought home her first date. Jack remembered, because it
was the first time he had sex with a woman.

His mother had divorced his father on the advice of a friend and
divorced at a significant monetary disadvantage. The chief reason for the
divorce lay in the fact that Jack's father had simply tired of his 38 year
old wife, Susan Hornher and had gone on to greener pastures. Susan hadn't
been able to prove they had owned anything beyond their home, cars and
joint accounts. Sterling had accepted the divorce with a great aplomb and
a secret smile. He certainly didn't seem to have suffered any significant
financial loss from the transaction, in fact, his father never missed a
beat, buying a plush condo overlooking Lake Erie, and a Dodge Viper to get
him from point A to point B.

Although Sterling Hornher hadn't been averse to slipping Jack some jack
on his infrequent visits, he steadfastly remained faithful to the divorce
decree and he did not provide anything beyond the child support owed to his
ex-wife. As an unexpected bonus, a corporate promotion and transfer to
California left him little time or inclination to take advantage of the
liberal visitation rights he had won in court and thus, Jack only saw his
father about once a year.

That decree left Susan Hornher and her son, Jack, in less than desirable
financial circumstances. Susan had sold the upper-middle class home she
had taken pride in. She could not afford to buy Sterling out on his share
of their home, so she had been forced to sell. She purchased a simple
ranch in a middle class suburb of Cleveland, about 60 miles from Jack's
boyhood home.

Their move, in the beginning of summer after Jack's junior year in High
School, left Jack bereft of the friendships he had maintained and forecast
a summer of loneliness for him. Additionally, the "new" house they moved
into was far less than the home they had left, and the maintenance men, who
kept their first home in top condition, were no longer summoned to appear
at the command of Sterling Hornher, to render their services unto him.

It was not that the home wasn't adequate. It was just that in the
absence of experience, 16 year old Jack, now the man of the house, was at a
loss as to how things were done at the reduced level of his circumstances.
He had never patched a wall or snaked a drain, or fixed a leaky sink, or
any of the myriad tasks that this 30 year old ranch-style home demanded
from the day they moved in. His Mother's belief that any man instinctively
knew how to fix anything that needed repair or maintenance made Jack feel
like he was not the man that his father was. With school out for the
summer, Jack had plenty of time alone to wonder why his mother had chose to
leave his Father.

Jack was at a loss. Jack was frustrated.

Jack was honestly less than pleased with his situation...

Susan Hornher had taken the loss of her husband badly. While she was
convinced that he was fooling around on her, she had not been able to prove
anything against Sterling Hornher, except the fact that he had not had sex
with her for the last year of their marriage. Confiding in her friend,
Hyacinth Green, had turned out to be the worst thing she had ever done,
next to actually filing for divorce. What seemed to be a classic case of
the ex-wife gets everything turned out to be that she lost her comfortable
home and now had to find employment to make the payments on the downsized
home she had managed to secure for herself and her son.

So Susan Hornher, the 38 year old divorcee, had entered the work force.
She obtained work with a real estate title company, working her way up from
a form-shuffling secretary to form shuffling closing-agent. The pay was
acceptable, but her budget did not allow them the luxuries they had
formerly taken for granted. Susan worked long and hard for her money and
now had a keen appreciation for the value of the stuff.

Susan now longer had the exquisite body of her youth. Her only
pregnancy had slowed her metabolism down dramatically. At five foot five,
she now weighed about 138 pounds. When she had married 17 years ago, she
had been a beautiful 108 pounds. Her stylish, shoulder length black hair
now had a few grays mixed in. Her formerly upthrust breasts tended to
point towards Australia now and the once flawless ass was still flawless,
only the canvas on which it was displayed, had grown. Her sexual appetite,
when it reared it's insistent head, was banished with a long, hot shower
with the shower spraywand she had won in the settlement. Those empty
orgasms left her feeling unfulfilled.

Susan reflected daily that life was not like it had been. The sexual
relationship she had enjoyed with Sterling had been most satisfying. He
had awakened her "talent", he called it; her ability to react to
humiliation, which he was only to glad to extend to her. A sexual bout
with Sterling usually only ended after a string of full-blown orgasms for
her, and she had blossomed under his tutelage. His never-ending
imagination had vanished with him, along with her home, her money, and the
self-confidence she had gained as a good wife and homemaker in an upscale
community.

Susan had dated sporadically in the two years since the divorce. men were not that hard to come by in her line of work. She took a shameful
pride in the fact that she endured as much sexual harassment as the rest of
the women working in her firm, although truth be told, the other woman
seemed to enjoy a control over the men that she totally lacked. She had
not been asked out on a date by any of the men she worked with, or any of
the clients conducting business with the firm. She tended to be shy and
deferential with the men she knew, and she was not good at sexual banter.
Maybe they weren't interested in a 38 year old single mother, she reflected
sadly. I've got nothing special to offer. Saggy, older women like me are
a dime a dozen. men go for the young ones.

Jack, like most 16 year olds, had raced through puberty at a breakneck
pace. In the last two years alone, he had grown six inches to stand at
almost six feet. He weighed 160 pounds, with the sandy blonde hair his
father had. A modest, quiet boy, (intense, he reassured himself), Jack's
few friendships had been immensely important to him. The one "girlfriend",
he could claim to have had declined to pursue their relationship over long
distance phone lines. Jack remained a highly charged unwilling virgin with
few prospects for advancement. What he found incredible was that his
Father, who had it all, had been able to leave his mother so easily. Jack
remembered a night long ago, when he was eleven, in the old house.

One Saturday night, after midnight, Jack was awakened from a deep sleep.
His bedroom was down the upstairs hall from the room his parents had
shared. Jack had been awakened by a sudden cry he could not identify, and
he was startled and curious. The cry was not repeated, although he could
hear murmurings from down the hall. Jack slipped out of his bed, his feet
hitting the carpet without a sound. His head seemed to be pounding to a
beat that had started in his groin. He could not understand what was
happening. He felt weak in the knees yet somehow supernaturally aggressive
at the same time. He had to see what was going on in the house. Was
someone in trouble?

Jack slipped out of his open bedroom door and crept silently down the
hall. His parent's bedroom door, usually closed and locked at this hour of
the night, was cracked open. Jack's head swam as he tiptoed closer to the
sliver of light escaping from the room. He felt that he could either faint
or jump straight through the ceiling at any instant.

Jack had received his fair share of sexual knowledge, like any boy his
age, from whispered tales at school as well as HBO and the Playboy
magazines his friend, Eddie, had regular access to. He knew the basic
difference between a man and woman, though until now the differences hadn't
made much of an impact on him. Now he suspected that such differences were
extremely important to his father, whose voice he could hear.

Jack halted at the door to his parent's room, stopping mechanically, as
though he was drugged. His head was singing--he could hear the blood
rushing in his ears. His conscience screamed at him, asking him if he
really wanted to do something so wrong--looking into his parent's bedroom,
and he was guiltily able to ignore the question. He was drawn to the
light.

Inside his parent's comfortably large bedroom, he could clearly see the
bed, a four poster high-mattressed affair. His mother and father were both
on the bed. Both were stark naked--the first time Jack had ever seen
either a grown man or woman naked in real life.

Sterling Hornher's naked body partially obscured Jack's view of his
Mother. Susan Hornher was on all fours, facing the headboard of the bed,
away from Jack's line of sight. Her head was down towards the pillows,
though Jack didn't really notice at the time. He was staring directly at
her rump, which faced Jack indirectly, Sterling Hornher had the commanding
view.

Susan Hornher's backside was presented to Jack's gaze and he found it
fascinating beyond speech. He could clearly see the vagina and puckered
butthole that he had heretofore only seen on the actresses and models of
his pornographical forays with Eddie. He leaned against the door frame,
feeling stunned and weakened. He prayed that neither parent would hear
him, because he was incapable of escaping at the moment. His penis, which
felt strangely large when he had awakened, now seemed to contain the
majority of his life's blood. It throbbed along in time with the wild
beating of his heart.

His Mother's ass and vagina could not compare quality-wise with the
younger women Jack had seen in the movies and magazines. But she had an
immediacy, if only second-hand, that Jack could not believe. Her ass was
larger than any butt those models had, and her vagina seemed larger
somehow, in a way that Jack could not comprehend. Jack could sense a
tension in the room, that he did not understand. He knew they were,
"having sex", but the intimacy he had expected was missing. Then his
Mother spoke and Jack was able to understand what was going on, although he
didn't figure out the ramifications until after the divorce.

"One last time, and then we'll try something else?", Susan said, buried
face down in her pillow.

"Okay, one last try, but Christ, just loosen up willya? Or I'll have to
take you to hand" Sterling promised.

"All right", his mother sighed, resignedly.

Sterling Hornher's right hand came up off the bed where it had rested.
He was kneeling back on his haunches, on the bed within a foot of his
wife's presented backside. Jack finally noticed that his Mother's hands
had been tied behind her back as she presented her ass to her husband. She
was tripoded on her knees and head, which she kept buried in her pillow, as
if to divorce herself from the activity.

Jack stared in disbelief at his parents.

Sterling Hornher's left hand rested on the bottom of his wife's spine.
His left hand grasped an empty beer bottle by the neck. He brought the
bottle to the lips of his wife's waiting pussy. The bottle was large end
first as it contacted her flesh. Sterling pushed and rotated that bottle.
The brown bottle mashed the lips at the entrance of her vagina as she
moaned in discomfort. Sterling pushed harder, reaching down with his left
hand to help spread the lips of her pussy. Suddenly, her vagina yawned
open to accept the glass intruder and Susan yelped in sudden pain.

"Ahhhhhh!....okay, okay..oooh...."

Sterling paused to allow her to accept the girth of the bottle inside
her body. He waited impatiently, until her moans subsided, then steadily
pushed the bottle into her vagina until the slender neck was the only part
of the bottle left exposed. Susan moaned into her pillow either from
discomfort or shame Jack could not tell. Probably a little of both, he
reasoned.

Then his father slowly eased the beer bottle almost out of his Mother's
pussy and pushed it back in, slamming the bottle into contact with her
uterus. Susan yelped again, but to Jack's ear it didn't sound as painful
as her first cries did. Sterling began fucking Jack's mother with the
bottle.

"How's that feel, Cunt?", he demanded.

Jack's mother was hard pressed to respond. "Uh....Uh....Uh..." she
groaned in response to his thrusts.

"Howzit feel?", he demanded again.

"Uh...Uh....Good...Uh...." Susan answered with her face now turned to
the side of her pillow.

Sterling Hornher growled, " Well then you'll love this part, bitch",

With that, Sterling got onto his feet on the bed. He placed each leg
outside of his beleaguered wife's legs and aimed his large, angry penis at
her defenseless anus. The beer bottle lay buried to the neck in her
vagina.

Jack watched through the door. He was beside himself with jealousy.
His father was enjoying his mother immensely while Jack's penis throbbed
almost painfully inside his underwear. He wondered if his mother was
enjoying this weird activity or if she was just playing along and humoring
his father. Whatever the case, Jack felt like his soul was going to
explode and his strangely throbbing penis felt like the weakest link; the
gateway to the explosion.

Sterling Hornher's penis slid up and down the crack of his wife's ass.
She moaned, knowing exactly what was coming next. With practiced ease,
Sterling nestled his cockhead at his wife's anus, then pushed steadily.
Susan felt the burning of his cockhead pressing into her anus. It
compounded the degradation of the beer bottle inside her vagina and made
her feel like a wanton slut. That was the impetus she truly needed to come
to orgasm. The discomfort she felt when his penis penetrated her only
added to her sense of stimulation. As he reamed her ass with his 7 inch
penis she concentrated on the feeling in both her holes, filled
simultaneously, and the her shameful fantasy of having two men inside her
at the same time. She had steadfastly resisted his attempts to bring
another male into their sex play to fill her in just such a way. That
would be wrong. That would be going too far.

However, it wasn't wrong to let your husband enjoy himself in a way that
would let her sleep, secure in the knowledge that her husband was satisfied
in the bedroom aspect of their marriage. So Susan endured such things as
bottles and whippings, and having a spouting cock forced into her mouth,
fresh from her vagina, though she told herself that she hated the very idea
of such activities. Nonetheless, she never failed to orgasm herself,
repeatedly, she amended lamely, although she told herself, not so much from
the barbarity of the specific activity, as the fact that she had again
calmed her husband's urges, as a good wife should...

Sterling Hornher pistoned his cock in and out of Susan's rectum,
building momentum toward his orgasm. Each thrust brought a slight gasp
from his wife which added greatly to his pleasure. The tightness of
Susan's anus, and the bottle in her pussy which kept poking at his sac,
drove him over the edge. With a muffled grunt, Sterling began to spasm far
inside his wife's ass.

Susan recognized the signs of her husband's orgasm. The humiliation of
what was happening to her caused her to come suddenly and strongly again.
The bottle lodged in her pussy, stretched her immensely, contributing to
her pleasure. With a small whine in her throat, the familiar contractions
began. Her vagina and anus contracted quickly again and again.

The effect was not lost on Sterling, who grinned smugly. He knew that
humiliation and perverse practices worked the best on his woman--almost as
important as his huge cock, he conceded quickly.

Jack, leaning against the wall outside the door, felt his cock suddenly
spasm repeatedly inside his underwear. He was excited and mortified at the
same time, not knowing whether to creep away or hold his ground in the face
of this new sensation. He was afraid to touch his cock because he
suspected what had happened to him. He looked down at himself in the dim
light coming out of his parent's room. Sure enough, he could see a stain
in the front of his underpants.

Sterling had finished his business inside Susan's ass. With a satisfied
sigh, he pulled out of his wife's upraised backside, and stepped off the
bed onto the floor, wiping his manhood with a towel he had placed on the
nightstand. With one hand, he untied the simple knot binding Susan's hands
behind her back. He quickly stepped behind her to view her distended
privates.

Susan's anus gaped slightly open, as cool air infiltrated her intestine.
Sterling's cum glistened wetly just inside her butt. Susan rolled off onto
her right side, and the magic moment was lost. Sterling reached over and
eased the beer bottle out of her pussy absently, already thinking of his
job and the things he had to do tomorrow. He carried the bottle into the
master bathroom and dropped it into the wastebasket.

Susan lay on the bed recovering from the last orgasm. She usually
rolled away from Sterling's view because she was ashamed to look at him and
catch that smug little smile that told her that he had once again looked
into her soul and found a willing soulmate for these depravities. Her
pussy, still quivered and some of the trapped air in her intestine chose
that time to escape her dank confinement.

Jack, finally convinced that the show was over, tiptoed back to his room
and crawled into bed.

He didn't sleep a wink that night...

Over the years since he had witnessed his parents having sex, Jack had
learned a lot about his Mother. Although the door to their room had since
remained closed to his prying eyes, his frequent inspections of their
premises while they where away confirmed to Jack that his mother took her
part in some deviant forms of sexual activity. He had discovered a
treasure trove of paraphernalia, dildoes, restraint devices and whatnot
inside a footlocker in the walk-in closet. Many of the items he was not
familiar with at the time, and the muffled sounds coming out of their
locked bedroom door hadn't served to provide any explanations for their
use.

The Internet however, had. In the time since his father had left, Jack
had found the pictures on the net which explained to him exactly what types
of sex his parents had indulged in and he believed that it was a safe bet
that his mother actually liked the humiliating and submissive role she
played to his Father. Jack liked thinking about his mother that way. He
found he couldn't care less about his Father's part in the action, apart
from the fact that he greatly envied him.

In the time since the divorce, to his knowledge, Jack's mom had not had
any sex with another man. Her dates were infrequent and apparently
disappointing to her and her date, and she got few chances at a second
meeting. The treasure trove, which had been left for her remained
untouched in the small walk-in closet of her new bedroom.

It was a Saturday night the night Jack changed her life. He had stayed
home alone, as he had become used to doing, waiting for her to return from
yet another useless "girls night out" with her friend, Hyacinth. The way
these things tended to work, she would get home around midnight, say a
snappish greeting and try to give him hell for being up so late. She was
invariably drunk, depressed and irritable when she got back from one of
these outings. Then she would go and take a extended shower and hit the
sack. She was pretty late tonight but that's still what Jack expected from
this latest try when he heard her mini-van pull into the driveway. It was
when he heard another vehicle pull into the drive that he leaped off the
couch in alarm and looked out the front window.

A pickup truck had pulled into the drive after his mom and she was
talking in the darkness to a man.

That wasn't right. That was not the way her forays ended...

Jack bolted out of the living room when he heard her key at the front
door. Jack glided silently down the hallway to his bedroom. He reached
around his door and pushed the lock button on his bedroom door. Locked
doors were nothing new at the Hornher residence. Then he slipped into his
mother's bedroom. He felt his penis stiffen rock hard with excitement. At
the instant his mother opened the front door, Jack was clambering into the
sliding-door closet of her bedroom, heading into what he prayed was a less
utilized portion of the closet. He ended up sitting right on the treasure
trove footlocker. For the first time, he wondered just what the hell had
prompted him to do this in the first place. He must have a voyeuristic
streak in him, he figured. The chances of getting caught were pretty good
actually because his mother liked to undress and take her robe off it's
accustomed hanger in the closet before she padded down the hall to take her
shower. That robe was brushing Jack's face as he sat. He could smell his
mother's comfortably feminine smell on the robe and he rubbed his face
around the material as he waited. His cock was threatening to escape from
his sweatsuit. Jack quickly dropped the pants down to his knees, afraid to
make any other noise. He placed his hand on his cock, which was harder
than a rock. Just touching it seemed to rouse it. Jack believed it must
have a mind of it's own--it certainly had led him into a closet five
seconds after it heard his mother coming. It certainly hadn't been a
conscious decision on Jack's part.

Susan Hornher let herself and her manfriend into her home. She was
hoping alternatively that Jack was still up and that he had already gone to
bed. It was after two in the morning after all, two hours past her normal
return. She hoped he hadn't worried. She was drunk and eager for a man's
companionship. This guy, she thought his name was Bill, had insisted on
seeing her home from the country bar she and Hyacinth had gone to.
Hyacinth, seemingly amused, had egged her into bringing him home for a
"quickie". A quickie was the term Hyacinth used to denote quick sex with a
man unworthy of a relationship. A quickie now and then, Hyacinth said,
kept a divorced woman on track.

Susan Hornher was feeling indecisive when she entered her home. She
decided that if Jack was still up that she would turn and thank Bill for
seeing her home. If Jack was asleep in his room, then she would go for the
quickie.

Susan looked and listened in the small entryway of the home. Jack was
not around, although she was puzzled because she still sensed his presence.
Still, he did not appear to be up, so she moved into the living room and
allowed Bill, who is right on my ass, she thought cheekily, into the home.
Susan turned to him and made the universal signal for quiet to Bill. She
dumped her coat on the couch and slipped down the hall. Jack's door was
closed; she turned the door knob silently to check that he really was
asleep, but the door was locked--not too unusual for him.

She returned to the living room and surveyed Bill hopefully. Susan was
seeing him for the first time in full light.

Bill was a man in his early forties, a twice-divorced city man tricked
into thinking country music was keeping him young and appealing. He stood
about six foot, weighed about 230 on a frame designed for no more than 200
pounds, with the characteristic gut of a man who liked his night life. His
hairline had retreated and formed a last defensive stand on the high ground
of his skull. cowboy hats were perfect for hiding things like that. His
ability to remember simple dances while intoxicated, along with his
gentlemanly way of paying for exotic drinks for her and Hyacinth had scored
for him this night. She was hoping for big things from Bill, maybe some of
the things she and Sterling used to do. She couldn't broach these subjects
outright, and her casual banter with him had only led her to believe that
Bill's taste in sex was strictly vanilla. But to a starved woman, even
vanilla had it's appeal.

"So, what's going on, sugarlips?", Bill whispered on her return. Bill
had doffed his levi jacket and was sitting on the couch admiring his python
skin boots which had cost him two week's pay.

"My son's asleep", Susan reported with a rush of relief, feeling
somewhat ashamed to have Jack see this man in their home.

"Well, all right, howzabout we do the deed, purty lady--the night's
wasting away an' I gotta get ta work afore the sunrise".

For a store manager at Wal-Mart, Bill could affect quite a twang when
called upon, Susan reflected, then chided herself. Bill was a nice guy and
a perfect gentleman. Still she wondered, just how long a quickie had to
last. She definitely didn't want Bill around when her son, Jack awoke.
The tryst would give her something to off-handedly mention to Hyacinth, to
prove that she could bring home the link sausage if she wanted to, but
altogether, it seemed pretty sordid. Not that Bill was a any kind of
prize--she and Hyacinth had seen him at the bar at closing time often,
going home empty-handed after buying scores of drinks for divorced women
and two-stepping until he could two-step no more... Susan decided to skip
the small talk.

"Let's go, she said, turning and walking down the hall towards her room.
She turned to tell Bill that they'd have to be quiet. Bill was walking
behind her. He had already slipped his boots off at the couch. He had
unbuttoned his western shirt at a furious pace and had dropped it on the
floor of the hallway.

"Be quiet", Susan cautioned.

Bill grinned and nodded.

Susan turned on the light in her bedroom and stepped over to her side of
the bed. She quickly undressed herself and dove under the covers. Bill
followed suit, only too happy to be there, he was breaking a bad losing
streak tonight.

Jack Hornher sat in the closet, agonizing over his situation. He wanted
to open the closet and announce his presence because he felt so embarrassed
by what he was doing. He had left the slightest sliver of the closet door
open and he had seen plenty. He knew his mother had checked on him and
found his door locked. He had heard the conversation, such as it was, with
the ridiculous guy. He did not want to watch. But his penis threatened to
reach forward and slide the closet door open itself if he entertained any
more thoughts of treason and Jack deferred to a stronger power.

Jack had watched his mom intently as she entered the room and undressed.
She had unbuttoned her blouse and then her skirt. Both items fell to the
floor. She had reached behind her with the practiced motion of her kind
and unclasped her bra faster than any man could. The bra fell to the
floor, leaving her standing in her panties. She peeled the Sears panties down her tummy and onto the floor.

Susan stood motionless for one instant, unwittingly allowing Jack a
chance to look at her. Her skin was white and untanned--she did not go in
for sunning. Her breasts were a fair size, bigger than anything Jack had
been able to get his hands on. They sagged in the classic fashion that
Jack had grown to adore. Her stomach and abdomen tended to pooch out over
her panties, but she was certainly not grotesque in any way. Her butt, as
she turned to dive into bed, was white and full, two heavy, motherly moons
beaming with the mysteries Jack dearly wanted to solve.

The mystery man quickly followed his mother into the bedroom, dragging
his levi pants down along with his underwear, almost tripping to get to the
bed. His pants off, Bill, almost slipped into bed alongside Jack's mom until he whirled back around to turn off the light.

"Leave it on", Jack's mom whispered intently, hoping Bill would start
catching the signal that she wanted something, anything racy or humiliating
to get her juices flowing.

"Okey-dokey", Bill replied, whirling back again and sliding under the
covers on the other side of the bed.

"I'm on the Pill, but do you have protection?" Susan asked, anxious and
worried and turned on all at the same time.

"If you're on the Pill, we're all set. Ah'm clean. I don't get around
as much as some of the ladies think", Bill answered. He knew it was time
to make his move before her inhibitions threw him off the horse.

"How about we...", Susan started before Bill suddenly rolled over onto
her. His bulk on top of her was suffocating, yet comforting. It reminded
her of Sterling, taking charge and getting the best out of her. She hoped
for good things to come.

Bill had other thoughts though. He balanced his weight on one hand, and
grasped his thickening penis with the other. He brought his penis to the
lips of her vagina and inserted himself. She was wet enough to permit his
entry. Bill preferred to just get down to business before this woman
started thinking too much and maybe kicking him out of bed because he
didn't have a condom. Additionally, Bill was under the impression that his
intercourse with a woman was highly pleasing to them and usually they
didn't regret the lack of foreplay once they had a taste of Wild Bill and
his trained penis, Little Bill.

Bill always counted on his intoxication to slow him down and keep him
steady for the full nine innings. What Bill hadn't counted on the stadium
lights being on, and the thought that this woman had a son sleeping just
down the hall. Bill found these things highly arousing, even in his
inebriated state. Little Bill thrust and thrust and a dozen thrusts
farther he spent himself inside Susan.

Susan, after the initial shock of having Bill climb onto her and work
himself into her, had relaxed and concentrated on the feeling of being used
by Bill; it made her feel degraded and wanton. What Bill was failing to
provide her mentally she was providing herself and it was working. Then
she suddenly felt Bill stiffen and start to grunt intensely. She knew that
he was coming, and she was disappointed. She still felt dirty and slutty,
but now just in aftersex sort of way. She only wanted this to be over and
to get a long hot shower with her showerwand. She had finally got into the
game after sitting the bench for months and she had merely been put in as a
catcher. At times, like this she really regretted splitting up with
Sterling.

Bill was mortified. His one good pitch, a slow curveball, had turned
into a fastball and he didn't have any pitches left in the repertoire to
save the game. He would try to pitch again tomorrow in a different
stadium, he told himself. The ball doesn't carry well here. He quickly
decided to throw out a face-saving gambit and head for the showers.

"Uh...did you, uhh, you know...?: he asked awkwardly.

"Yes, Bill, I did", Susan lied, feeling sorry for poor Bill

"Uh....that's good....I gotta run....I gotta let my dog out, and uh, I
gotta get some sleep", Bill finished lamely, pulling out of Susan and
heading for his clothes. His clothes, if anything, went on even faster
than they had come off.

Jack, in the closet, had a pretty fair guess about what had gone on. He
hadn't seen anything because they were under the covers, but he sensed
embarrassment on both their parts and his own shame had been replaced by
intense interest in the expression on his mother's face. He hadn't touched
himself, because he wanted to come when she did. That hadn't
happened--that hadn't happened at all. Jack had went from being a highly
excited peeping tom to a sixteen year old trapped in his mother's closet.

Bill, having finished his hurried dressing, made vague promises to call
Susan in the future, maybe to get together sometime, made a hasty exit from
the bedroom. She heard the front door open and shut and within a few
seconds, heard the pickup truck start up and leave the driveway. She was
disheartened by the quick performance and the unsatisfied feeling in her
cunt. Bill's semen hadn't even started to drip out of her and he was
already gone. She hoped all these "quickies" weren't so unfulfilling.

Susan sighed, and threw off the covers. She had to lock the front door
and start the shower running. She'd go to the kitchen and have a cigarette
while she waited for the water to warm up. Susan got out of bed and went
to the closet. She slid the door wider and grabbed her flannel robe, which
was the first garment she saw in the closet. She put it on and padded out
to lock up.

Jack made his move as soon as he heard his mother lock the front door
and turn on the shower. He pulled his pants back up and fairly leaped out
of the closet. It had been too close when his mother had opened the
closet. He had been sitting next to her robe when she grabbed it off the
hanger. Had she been paying attention he would have been caught. It
started him to thinking. What if he had been caught? What would he have
said? What would she have said in the presence of "Bill"? It would have
embarrassed her immensely, which was part of her turn-on as far as he knew.
Although her turn-on probably didn't include finding her son in the closet
in the presence of a man she hardly knew.

Jack eased quickly out of the closet and hid behind his mother's bedroom
door in case she came back from the hallway bathroom. He could not hear
any sound from the shower, and nothing broke the fall of the water. Then
he heard the sound of a cupboard in the kitchen and he knew she was in the
kitchen having a cigarette. Jack slipped out and unlocked his bedroom door
with the nail they kept over the door. He eased the door open to indicate,
should the need arise, that he had awakened and left his bedroom. Jack
scrambled out of his sweatsuit which he tossed onto the floor of his room.
He left his underwear on.

Jack made a decision based in large part on the raging hormones and his
need for release. He hoped he could appeal to his Mother's sense of
humiliation. It would be so much safer to beat off and go to sleep. Hell,
he had that down to a science, but he figured this was his one good chance
to make a fantasy into a reality. And mom had just had an unpleasant
reality herself.

Jack walked silently through the carpeted hallway and living room,
collecting his thoughts. His mind was racing as he walked into the kitchen
and found his Mother, with her robe unbelted, absently tweaking her left
nipple while she sat smoking at the kitchen table. Her robe was unbelted,
as she didn't think Jack was awake.

"Nasty habit, Mom", Jack said striding into the room.

"Jack! Oh, I didn't know you were awake!", Susan squealed, almost
dropping the cigarette out of her mouth in her haste to cover herself. She
wondered if Jack had seen her fingers on her nipple. She feared that he
had, and she prayed that he was referring to her smoking as nasty.

"What's nasty? My smoking right?" she faltered, feeling the familiar,
comforting sense of shame wash warmly over her.

"Well, that too", Jack answered non-commitally, striding over to the
fridge and popping out one of the bottles of beer that her brothers had
left from the time they moved her into this house. He opened the twist off
top and sat down, not across the kitchen table from her, but right next to
her. She felt the robe couldn't be wrapped too many times around her body
at the moment.

"Jack, what do you think you're doing? I don't allow you to drink
alcohol, you're only sixteen. And it's past two in the morning--what do
you think you're doing sneaking up on me like that? You almost gave me a
heart attack, you son of a bitch!". Susan worked her anger up from her
shame, trying to get control of the situation.

"Now pour that beer out in the sink and get your ass to bed! And what
filthy habit?" she hissed, knowing automatically that she shouldn't have
passed the conversational torch back to him.

"Huh", Jack answered thoughtfully, slouched confidently in the chair,
staring her right in the face. Susan Hornher realized at that point, how
much Jack resembled the casual, cocky manner of her ex-husband. He seemed
very much at ease with her shame, almost seem to revel in causing her to
feel degraded. He did not say anything. Slowly, his eyes, which held hers
in a thoughtful gaze, moved down her body slowly, drinking in her neck and
shoulders, and pausing more than a decent interval on her robed chest.
Susan felt the momentum turn. She fought for control

"Did you hear me? Did you hear me?! I told you to get to bed! Answer
me!"

"So, how did your evening go? You were out awful late", Jack asked
simply, ignoring her anger easily on the surface, struggling to maintain
his poise, although his heart was beating a mile a minute. He took a swig
from the beer bottle, watching her over the bottle as he swallowed. He
hoped his hand wasn't shaking. He thought he could see an extra flush to
her face as he stared back at her face, but he could not be sure. He
forced himself to act casual sitting next to her.

His mother gasped at his audacity. She struggled for words.

"What?! How did my evening go? What business is that of yours at two
in the morning?! I'm just sitting here minding my own business when you
come in her and scare the shit out of me, and now you think you can just
sit there and talk to me like its no big deal?!", Susan demanded, still
wondering what was going on with Jack, all of the sudden, he didn't seem
like the boy she had raised. He seemed like his father.

"Scared the what out of you? Did you say, I scared the "shit" out of
you?, Jack asked quietly, sipping his beer and looking intently at his
Mother. Yes, he thought, she did blush when he said that. Keep it up,
keep the intensity up he urged himself.

"Yes, I said you scared the shit out of me", Susan echoed, almost
whispering the word. "What's gotten into you?--you're acting weird and
it's scaring me". "Tell me", she pleaded, looking into his face, aching to
know what was going on in their little home. She felt ashamed that he had
caught her feeling her nipple, and worried that he knew about her quickie
with Bill.

"So, I'm sleeping in my lonely bed, when you got home. I hear you get
home with some guy. I'm thinking, Huh! this is something new. My mom,
bringing home a date. That hasn't happened before. I'm laying in bed when
you try to come into my room to see if your little boy is sleeping. Then
you guys go into your bedroom."

Susan buried her face in her hands and moaned.

Jack continued, " You leave your bedroom door open and you left the
light on. I unlock my door and what do I see when I step out? Some guy on
top of my mom, slipping the beef to her!"

Jack stopped and took a long swig of his beer, feeling more and more
confident.

Susan waited for him to continue--she knew he wasn't done. She was
mortified. When he said, "on top of my mom", her vagina seemed to swell,
engorged with blood and tingling . She suspected Jack could smell her if
he leaned any closer to her.

Jack waited a short time, until her hands started to move from her face.
Then he resumed. "So this Bill is fucking you. He only goes about twenty
seconds then he comes. I'm watching your face. Seemed kind of
disappointed didn't you? You were expecting more, weren't you? I felt I
should go in and tap the guy on the shoulder and tell him how bad he's
fucked up. But you lie to him and off he goes".

Susan raised her face to him. She had tears in her eyes. She wanted to
say how sorry she was that he had seen that. She wanted to explain how a
grown woman had needs and how she had made a mistake. She wanted to tell
him that she missed his father sometimes. She wanted to say how much he
had grown and that she appreciated how hard he worked around the house and
that the only thing missing from her life now was a man. She wanted to say
anything that would end this kitchen table encounter. Her cigarette had
burned down in her fingers; she stubbed it out hurriedly and lit a new
cigarette with shaking hands. She ignored the tingling of her clitoris,
stimulated by her humiliation at the words of her son.

She raised her burning face to him and all words were struck from her
mind. Jack had finished his beer. Jack had inverted the empty beer
bottle. It lay in his fist, fat side up toward the ceiling. Jack stared
intently at her.

Susan Hornher, flushed beet red by the unspoken insinuation that Jack
knew what it took to get her stimulated. She felt her left hand slide off
the kitchen table to rest on her lap, partially hidden under the table.
She knew that Jack, whose eyes never left hers, had nonetheless noted the
movement. She was afraid she was going to stroke her crotch right in front
of him if she couldn't end this conversation. She fumbled for something to
say.

"Jackie....I..." she started.

"Jackie...I...What?", Jack cocked his head to look at her. "Jackie, I
just let some loser hose my cunt with his sperm? Jackie, I'm leaking right
here in this chair while we're talking? Jackie, I'm ashamed right now to
be discussing what's going to happen next?"

"Yes! Yes! I'm ashamed!", Susan screamed and burst out crying, burying
her head in her arms on the table.

Jack let her sob a few minutes and then said quietly, "Mom, go turn off
the shower and get into bed"

His mother raised her head warily with alarm in her eyes. "You're
telling me to go to bed? My son is sending me to my room--is that how low
I've sunk, Jack? Is that what your old mom has come to? Was I caught
screwing and now I'm being punished? Is that it Jack?. Susan seemed to be
on the verge of hysteria Jack thought. Bear down, he told himself.

"Mom, go turn off the shower. I made a mistake when I told you to get
into bed, and I'm sorry", Jack reached over and stroked his Mother's hair
reassuringly. "What I meant to say was Get On The Bed".

Susan stiffened and went pale. "What?", she whispered, not believing
her ears.

"It's very simple, mother", Jack explained with a patience he did not
feel. "Turn off the shower, get onto your bed"

"And then what?" Susan whispered, unbelievingly.

"You wait for me"

"Jack, I can't--we--you're..."

Jack got up slowly out of his chair. He grabbed his mother's hands with
his own and pulled her gently to her feet. He gazed down at her, then
pulled her close, rubbing his groin against her stomach and placing his
hands down her lower back onto the tops of her ass cheeks. Susan remained
stiff, the blood pounding in her veins. She knew she wanted this and she
knew it was wrong. When her clitoris rubbed up against his the top of his
thigh she almost moaned aloud. She couldn't think straight.

"Go", he commanded her.

"I...I...-I'll lock my door", she stammered, afraid to even look up at
his face.

"No you won't", Jack answered knowingly, "You know you've got dues to
pay, and the sooner the better, right Mom?" Susan didn't answer.

Jack disengaged his embrace. He took Susan gently by the shoulders and
turned her towards the bedroom. He gave her a gentle shove. Susan
staggered for a step, then caught her balance. It looked like she was
sleepwalking through the living room and down the hall. She paused at the
end of the hall before heading into the bathroom to turn off the shower.

Jack listened. His mother was in the bathroom for about ten seconds
before she moved the shower curtain and slowly turned the shower off. She
bumped into the bathroom door on the way out. She then walked quietly into
her bedroom and Jack heard the sound of the mattress springs creaking as
she clambered onto the bed. mom was at ground zero. Jack heaved a sigh of
relief. He felt shaky and weak after maintaining the outward insolence and
confidence he needed to get the best of Susan. He had won the first
battle. Now he had to win the war. Jack was off to win her heart and mind
and hopefully some of the choicer pieces too.

Susan was dazed as she walked into her bedroom. She could not believe
this was happening and she had no way to stop it. I tried, she told
herself, I tried, but it didn't work. He wants it and I can't stop him.
It's wrong--and it's wrong the way I'm wet and ready. He's just a
boy--just my son, and he's got power over me. Just like Sterling did.

Without conscious thought, Susan had pulled the sheets down on the bed
and crawled settled atop on all fours in the middle of the bed, just like
she used to when she was married. She heard Jack approaching.

Jack paused outside Susan's open bedroom door and gathered his courage.
He gazed at his mother on all fours on her bed, waiting for him. He hadn't
told her what to do and she had done it anyway. She was presenting herself
to him, he told himself excitedly. Her backside was presented and ready
for action. She had left her robe on, but that just made it more erotic.
Mom in her old, comfortable robe, in the position.

Jack stepped through the open doorway. He was operating on instinct
now. His goal was to keep Susan humiliated and off-balance until he had
accomplished his goal--a couple of satisfying orgasms that didn't involve
his hand and, wish beyond wishes, to lay the groundwork for a whole new
style of relationship with his mother. He wanted at least a semi-willing
participant when he was through.

Jack stared at his mother. With one hand, he reached behind him and
swung her bedroom door shut. When it closed loudly, not a slam mind you,
he told himself, it shut with a final authority. He jumped inwardly, his
senses were highly attuned.

Susan, on the bed had heard Jack come into her room. His pause inside
her door was electrifying to her. She wondered what he was thinking as he
watched her, like a mother slut, ready for her son's activities inside the
womb that had bore him. When the door shut, she flinched and gasped. Her
vagina, sheathed under the final protection of her robe, gaped open
momentarily, then resealed. She was at fever pitch, she knew, and all her
being centered on her privates, soon to be displayed to her child. He
spoke, and she jumped at the sound of his voice.

"Gotta close the door, Mom. We wouldn't want anyone walking in on us
would we?"

Susan couldn't answer.

"Wouldn't want Bill coming back to take a pair of souvenir panties off
you to show the boys at work, would we?"

Susan burned crimson at the thought and the Kegal muscles of her pelvic
floor squeezed in an involuntary response.

"Wouldn't want anyone to see that footlocker full of stuff you keep in
your closet, would you?"

Susan gasped with shock.

Jack moved towards the bed; each wooden footfall sending a shock up his
leg and through his spine up to his head. He felt hot, almost sweating.
Butterflies launched themselves from the floor of his stomach. Gotta get
my eyes on the prize, he told himself, before this whole thing falls apart
on me.

Jack sat down on the bed behind his mother, with his feet on the floor.
His mom, in her servile position, seemed to be quivering, almost
imperceptibly.

"I probably should have told you to take off your robe first--you've
probably leaked that guys sap on it. You'll have to wash it tomorrow eh?",
Jack asked, hoping his mother would answer and allow him to get a read on
her emotional state.

Susan didn't answer.

Jack moved fully onto the bed. "Time to raise the curtain the first
act", he murmured, almost to himself. He grasped the hem of Susan's robe
and peeled it up her thighs to rest on the top of her ass. Jack got the
view his father had owned and walked away from without a backward glance.

Susan trembled when Jack pulled her robe up her thighs to expose her to
his eyes. She felt incredibly aroused by the thought that she was being
displayed to her son. I'm under his power, she thought, I'm under his
spell.

Jack was enraptured at the site of his mother's backside. Her entire
body was an alabaster white, the creaminess broken by the terrain relief of
panty lines, moles and small, bluish veins marbling the essential softness
of her skin. He found these features to be visually appealing.

Jack focused on the cheeks of her ass, presented to his view. Susan's
ass, full now that she approached her middle years, sagged invitingly when
she walked. In this position however, her ass seemed perfect to him, the
perfect size to caress endlessly, the perfect size to bump against. Jack
spread her cheeks slightly to inspect.

Susan's brown-red anus peeked out at him. It winked, then remained
motionless to his gaze. Jack blinked, then closed and reopened her cheeks
gently to see if it would happen again. It didn't.

His mother's skin seemed so warm to his hands. He stroked and clenched
his hands on her buttcheeks and thighs. Her thighs, heavy without
exercise, flapped when he moved them. He wanted to lean in and smell the
smells that hinted at his nose a foot and a half away, but Bill had left
something there that had to be removed first. That much he knew, and it
fell within the game.

Susan, at Jack's first touch, had a very small orgasm. His hands were
hot and moist on her as he inspected her private parts. When he spread her
cheeks, her vagina opened and hollowed out, as it always did prior to an
orgasm. His slow hands were excruciating to her.

Jack examined the fabric of his mother's robe where it rested on her
back. Yes, there was a small glop of something there, about where she
would sit. He parted her cheeks again and examined her pussy. Susan's
pussy lips were definitely wettened by something other than her own juice,
Jack judged. Okay.

"You still got Bill's cum in you, just as I suspected. It's on your
robe too"

Susan moaned and shifted her position, but didn't answer.

"What can we do to clean you up before we proceed?", Jack asked his
mother.

Susan, motionless as a statue, did not answer.

Jack moved up the bed and surveyed her face buried in a pillow. He
placed one hand on her back, leaned down towards her ear.

"Got any suggestions, Mom?"

No response.

"Answer me. Got any suggestions as to how we can get rid of Bill's
sperm?"

Susan squirmed nervously before whispering "no", from the depths of her
pillow.

Jack sighed, then resumed.

"Then you're in luck, Mom. I think I can collect his sap and rid you of
the embarrassment your activities caused here tonight. It's a good thing I
grabbed this teaspoon before I left the kitchen. I thought it might come
in handy".

Jack moved back to his position at his mother's upraised butt. He
pushed at the inside of her thighs and noted that she accommodated him
immediately by spreading herself wider. Her pussy now gaped invitingly at
him.

Jack rubbed the rounded side of the spoon gently against the lips of her
pussy, gathering wetness from her. He rubbed the spoon on her clitoris,
eliciting sighs from his mother. Then he set to work.

Jack turned the spoon over and grazed it over the inner lips. Not much
here, he thought. He slid the spoon into his mother's vagina and scraped
it around in circles. Her pussy almost twisted the spoon out of his hand.
He pulled it back out for inspection.

"Now we're talking Mom! Thatta Girl!", he shouted excitedly. Susan
flinched.

The teaspoon held a bit of Bill's residue in it. Jack reinvested the
spoon slowly and did a thorough job. When it emerged, it held more of the
essence of Bill. Probably, all he would get after this time, he thought.
Well, that wasn't the point of the exercise anyway--It's the thought that
counts, he decided.

Jack bounced excitedly up to the head of Susan's bed. Her face, buried
in the pillow, shifted away to the right, away from his body. Jack put a
leg on the floor and leaned over his mother to see her face.

"C'mon Ma! Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down! Head's
up! " Jack held the spoon at head height. Susan remained silent,
adjusting her position automatically to maintain her balance amid Jack's
excited movements on her bed.

"C'mon Ma, it's this spoon--it's not even close to full--or I get your
toothbrush and we whiten your teeth. You won't wake up with minty fresh
breath that way", Jack sang.

Susan's head moved. She's considering her options, Jack thought.

"C'mon Ma, it's the lesser of two evils", Jack whispered. Susan's head
swiveled 180 degrees to face him. Or at least face his direction.

Jack removed his other left from the bed and stood facing his mother's
left side. His penis, poked furiously at the confinement of his underwear.
Jack felt like he could blast at any second. Had to keep the game moving.

Jack reached his right hand around Susan's rump and started to play with
her pussy and clitoris. He held the spoon with it's load, right up at her
face. Susan's eyes were closed like she was concentrating. Her backside
pushed at his hand, and she moaned back in the throat. Jack watched.

Susan, was mortified by the spoon Jack was using to clean her out. Even
Sterling had never conceived anything like that. She had orgasmed,
clasping the spoon, almost flipping it out of Jack's hand. Now he wanted
her to open her mouth and take it in. He promised a worse torture if she
didn't. She couldn't have him brush her teeth with Bill's semen. She
couldn't.

When Jack started rubbing her pussy, she came again, a series of small,
fluttering orgasms. She decided.

Susan's mouth opened. Jack gaped at her face, eyes shut, mouth open.
He could see a filling.

"Head up, Ma", Jack whispered intently, his voice almost breaking with
the tension. His penis lurched inside his underpants, almost at the point
of betrayal.

Susan lifted her head several inches off the pillow, eyes closed, her
head coming forward to accept the gift. Jack slowly brought the spoon to
her outstretched mouth. He placed the spoon in her mouth. Susan's mouth
remained open for several seconds, then, with a shudder, she closed her
mouth on it. Jack was struck dumb. His hand forgot it's task on her
privates. Susan nodded almost imperceptibly. Jack pulled the spoon
millimeter by millimeter from her mouth.

The spoon was clean.

Susan lay with her head turned toward her son. Her mouth was filled
with the taste of Bill's bleachy, salty, cum. She wondered if she should
swallow or wait for Jack to tell her. She had reached a point of
humiliation that she hadn't felt was possible before tonight. Her vagina yawned and snapped shut based solely on the emotions she was feeling at the
moment. She heard Jack's feet shuffling on the carpet. She kept her eyes
screwed shut and waited.

Jack knew that he wouldn't be losing his virginity inside her mother's
mysterious vagina that night. There was no time. He was afraid that any
sudden movement would send him spurting into his underpants, and if that
happened he knew his mother's eyes would fly open and catch him in an
embarrassing moment of his own. Couldn't let that happen. Jack tore his
gaze off his mother's pretty face and stared at the ceiling until he had
mastered his penis again. Then he quickly stepped out of his underpants,
kicking them off his right foot impatiently. He had to say something to
Susan, to let her know he was still in control. His penis beat a drum of
rebellion as he faced his mother.

"Closer to the edge and open your mouth", was the best he could manage.

His mom suspected what was coming next. She swallowed and moved her
face closer to his body. She opened her mouth. She spoke.

Jack pressed his knees against the mattress, his penis raced him towards
Susan's face and won by about six inches. When she spoke, he almost
spurted in alarm.

"The bottle?"

"What?...", Jack asked stupidly. "Bottle?"

"That bottle?" Susan whispered.

"Bottle?", Jack echoed, trying to grasp what she was trying to impart.
Oh, he suddenly realized. Oh, the Bottle. Jack considered briefly, then
reached his decision.

He turned and flew to the bedroom door, pausing just long enough to open
it before flying down the hall, penis bouncing angularly as he ran. He
grabbed the bottle off the kitchen table and whirled to turn and run back
again before something bad happened to the game. Then he stopped, whirled
again and dashed to the small pantry closet. He grabbed the small plastic
bottle of canola oil, unscrewing it with his teeth. He poured the oil onto
the bottle and dropped the canola oil back onto the shelf. On the run back
to the bedroom, he massaged the oil onto the beer bottle. He raced back
into his former position, heart beating wildly. Nothing appeared to have
changed in the 17 seconds he had been gone. Good.

He walked to the foot of the bed and climbed on. He viewed his mother's
posterior with urgent interest. He scooted up into position and started to
work his mother's pussy with the oil coating his left hand. Susan moaned
at his ministrations, inflating his skull with good, hard thoughts. Maybe
he should stay down here and get some business done. He sniffed his left
hand surreptitiously. Oh my, he thought giddily. I've got to go...

Susan felt Jack fiddling with the lips of her cunt, lubing her, she
thought, for the invasion. Then she felt the bottle, bottom end first,
pushing against her lips, battering it's way. She shifted and pushed back.
For a moment, the bottle perched on the edge of her chasm, then toppled
massively suddenly into her void. Susan gave a little shriek of pain from
the sudden intrusion into her cunt. She gasped and panted, struggling to
overcome the discomfort. Jack watched, his hand still on the neck of the
bottle. He was ready to pull it out. It appeared to be hurting her too
much. Then Susan pushed back. The bottle, braced in his hand, sank the
last few centimeters into her maw. Jack whistled mentally. Wow, he
thought. He sank back on his haunches for a minute to admire the
spectacle. The bottle neck protruded from Susan's cunt. Her lips stretched
to accommodate the girth of the brown glass phallus. Her rectum, exposed
to his eyes, was oval now, instead of the starred brown circle he had first
seen.

Susan felt stretched beyond recent memory. Her pussy clenched around
the invader, and she was close, oh so close, to the big and final orgasm
that would leave her sore and satisfied. Push, she thought, Push.

Jack shook himself out of his reverie. It's time, he told himself, it's
time. Jack scooted off the bed to stand at Susan's head, his cock jutting
like a saber towards the ceiling. Time for the last act.

"Open"

Susan shivered with the implication of obeying such an order. She
froze.

"Open your mouth", Jack whispered.

Susan remained motionless, eyes tightly shut. Then her face relaxed,
and her mouth opened. Her neck craned forward to the place she heard him
speak. Jack placed his knees against the high mattress and leaned forward.
His bent his cock to the horizontal. It stopped within an inch of her
mouth. Her exhalations blew warm moist breath on him. Jack pulled her
neck gently towards his penis and Susan appropriately shifted her whole
body to the his edge of the bed. Her mouth lay waiting for him.

Jack took a mental deep breath and began. He groped for the bottle,
never taking his eyes off his mother's beautiful face. He worked the
bottle in and out of her vagina, her moans warming the tip of his penis.
After a few seconds, he leaned his body forward and his cockhead entered
Susan's mouth.

Susan, expecting this last humiliation, felt her son's penis enter her
mouth. She closed her mouth gently on his penis, holding him there,
resting on her tongue. She felt him pistoning the bottle inside her. She
felt so full.

"Now open your eyes"

Susan blinked her closed eyes, unsure that she had heard right.

"Open your eyes", the command came again. Susan remained motionless.

"Hurry!", the command came urgently.

Susan opened her eyes for an instant, gazing down the length of her
son's penis to his pubis.

Jack watched her eyes flutter open, then close. He was about to try
again, when his mother's eyes opened wide and she stared at his crotch.
The warm, wet pressure of her mouth upon his penis sent him to the brink.
He leaned over his abdomen over her head, resting his weight on his arms.
He thrust his penis slowly in and out of her mouth.

Watching himself, he ejaculated into his mother.

Susan, staring wildly at her son, suddenly tasted the sperm he was
emptying into her mouth. Her final orgasm exploded for her, Her pussy clenched and unclenched around the beer bottle. She felt the flutter of
her stomach muscles as the contractions gripped her regularly and finishing
with an intermittent series. She felt languid and spent, with her son's
penis laying in her mouth. His ejaculate reminded her distinctly of
Sterling's.

Jack rested his weight on his forearms, while he caught his breath. His
prostate was throbbing, and his legs were shaky. He gathered his strength.
His penis throbbed gently, relaxing now inside Susan's mouth. Jack
believed he could go on forever in this position. Nothing he had done to
himself had ever approached the feeling he had right now.

Susan slowly slumped down onto her tummy, the bottle sticking
incongruously out of her. She waited, as she would have for Sterling.

Jack knew the game was over. It was time to put the toys away. He
hoped to take something away from the encounter that would portend a long
and happy summer for himself.

Jack pushed back onto his feet, his penis slipping out of Susan's mouth.
He looked to see if she would swallow; she didn't. Her face, eyes staring
vacantly past him, remained relaxed.

Jack moved to the foot of the bed and threw one knee onto the bed. He
surveyed her buttocks, her legs spread slightly because of the bottle. He
grasped the bottle and removed it slowly. His mother didn't move; she only
gasped slightly. Her vagina, freed from the circumference of the intruder,
gaped open like a mouth, then slowly closed loosely.

Jack placed the bottle quietly into the wastebasket next to his mother's
dresser. He was waiting for a signal from his mother that everything was
all right or all wrong. He needed a clue to her feelings.

She spoke tiredly. "This is never going to happen again...Never again"

He remained silent. Her words hadn't brought a response to his mind.

"I don't know how this happened...how I let you talk me into this...but
it was wrong-I was wrong...this shouldn't have happened. I can't even look
at you in the face. What kind of mother am I? What kind of mother has sex
with her son? I've failed", she concluded, "first as a wife, and now
this".

Jack moved back to her and stroked her hair. She lay on her stomach
facing him, with her eyes closed. Jack suspected she would begin to cry.

"Look, I don't know why Dad left you. I'd guess you don't and he
doesn't know either. You were a good wife to him from what I know, and
you've always been a good mother. This doesn't matter. This doesn't mean
anything. Hey, we were happy at the old place. We're not so happy here.
At least not yet. It'll take time, but we'll be all right. We've got each
other". Susan stiffened.

"I'm just saying, Jack said hurriedly, "that we're a team. We were a
team of three when you and Dad were married, but he's gone now, and that
leaves us. Your life isn't over-you haven't failed at anything. Someday
you'll find someone and you can be happy with him, like you were with Dad.
It'll happen, I know it will. This was just a little game, something for
both of us. It doesn't mean anything. And it was good. And that's what
matters. For a short time I mean, nothing mattered. You're a beautiful
woman and a good mother. Don't think about this too much, don't think
about it in the morning. I've got things to do and so do you. Tomorrow,
we'll clean the house. Maybe get a pizza for dinner, rent a movie or
something. Just relax, and get ready for Monday. Come Saturday, you go
out again with Hyacinth".

Susan rested, comforted by his words, sleepy and ready for bed. "I
don't think men like my looks anymore", she said. "I'm getting old".

"You've still got your looks, and something like this drives any guy
crazy-it makes him feel like a man, I'll tell you that", Jack promised.

"How did you know about my talent?", Susan asked, turning and looking
directly at him.

Jack didn't answer immediately. He busied himself by pulling the sheet
and blanket over his mother's naked form, making her comfortable. "Your
talent?".

"That I liked it...different?", Susan asked, blushing.

"I saw the stuff in that box in the closet once before we moved", Jack
lied, as much for his mother as for himself.

"Oh, I see", his mother answered. "But why the beer bottle?, she asked
impulsively, watching him.

"The box was locked and I didn't have a key-and I didn't think you'd
tell me where it was."

Susan rested.

"You did like it though, right?" Jack blurted, anxiously. He waited and
waited for a response, the air in the room cold now.

"Yes", came his mother's reply, almost inaudibly. Jack smiled with
relief. He stooped down to pick up his underpants off the floor. "I'll
see you tomorrow, Mom".

"Okay", his mother answered. Jack turned to walk out of her bedroom, to
leave her alone with her thoughts.

"Jack?"

"What?"

Silence filling the space in the conversation, Jack waited.

"The key is taped to the bottom of my jewelry box on the dresser"

"Okay, Goodnight Mom, I love you". Jack's soul was singing.

"I love you too. Goodnight", his mother answered.

The End....at least for now...

Comments to a.s.s.d or a.s.s. or a.s.s.i or to
Shakespeare_I._Aint@mailexcite.com. But be advised, I'm not an English
teacher and I prefer content over form. I ran this thing thru a
spellcheck, then sent it out to play.






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