Taming Mom (closed for Rocket1010)

[apom]

"John"...

I clench the nightshirt in a fist at my hip and grit my teeth, staring out the window of my bathroom at the rain and knuckling the fat tear rolling belligerently down my cheek. Tonight of all nights he's out with that bitch, again.

"One... Two... Three..."

I sob and turn away from the storm. It's just a stupid birthday, Josephine. You've had 33 of them. Get a fucking grip.

Thunder rumbles outside. Lightning flashes, my face flickering in front of me for a split second. I flip on the light and cringe at the picture in the mirror: long, mousy brown hair, red-rimmed eyes the color mud, tears and running mascara painting an otherwise plain, pale face.

I pucker at myself and tilt my head. My lips part. "Mmm. Miss G, that is absolutely the most fuckable mouth I've ever seen." His name was Brandon, one of John's friends, in the kitchen one night and right the hell out of nowhere with a not-so boyish grin, and then turning and heading promptly for the living room where the rest of them were watching TV.

He was joking, I know, but...

I swallow hard and shuffle off into the bedroom, dig through my underwear drawer where there's no silk, no frilly little things. My fat ass swallows a thong so there's none of those either.

Thunder cracks again, lightning strobing through the darkness. Grabbing something from the drawer I peel the t-shirt up over my body, my heavy sagging breasts flopping free, and toss it aside, wiggle the granny pants down over the thickness of my thighs and kick them aside, and stand for a moment fingering the sticky, lightly haired minge between my legs. It's 1:30 am.

Where are you, John? She doesn't know you, not like I do. She doesn't know what you need. She can't give you what I can...

I flop to my back on the bed and wiggle until my bottom is just hanging over the edge, lifting my knees and teasing my soppy hole with the tip of a girthy toy from the drawer.

What is happening, John? Is she touching you? Are her lips on your neck? Her hands under your clothes? Are you thinking of me?

My breath catches as the silicone phallus sinks into me, distending as I push, stretching me to accommodate its girth. I bite my lip, suck air between my teeth, back arching as I press the cold length deeper inside me. Groping with my free hand for the phone on the bed at my side, I push play.

"Hey..."

I swallow at the sound of his voice, the weight of my spreading legs pulling tension in my abdomen as the shaft slides slowly out of my sweating gash. I moan softly. It has been so long...

"I'm probably gonna be late tonight so, well, I dunno. We're heading down to the lake for a while..."

We've always been close, just you and me. You tell me everything. Right? What are you telling HER?

I jam the dildo back into my hole, grinding, tears sliding from the corners of my clenched eyes, a sudden sharp ache jabbing low in my belly, a small whimper escaping my throat. The toy slurps wetly as it slides out, then back in, hard, painful, my knees flexing, bobbing as I fuck myself...out-in, out-in, out-in...my throat tight, wailing, tears now flooding from my eyes.

"And mom, don't wait up."

I jam the phallus into my cunt one last time, frantically pinching, flicking my swollen clit until... BOOM! I shudder violently, sharp, sudden pangs of need, longing, desperation, of loss ripping through my damp, quivering body. I choke, sobbing, and curl into myself.

"J..John"... I whisper through the tears and snot.

Out in the house, a door opens.

 

[Rocket1010]

"John ..... JOHN ..... What are you thinking about?" I hear Sally's voice tear through my thoughts as rain drops hit the windshield. "You seem to be miles away tonight ..... what's the problem."

"Uhhh ... no problem," I mumble feeling her fingers sliding along the inside of my jean covered thighs. Sally is my latest girlfriend and like all the other past girls I dated, my mom doesn't like her. But I moan when I feel her fingers unzip my jeans and her hand snakes inside to find my hardened cock.

As Sally frees my thick cock, I can't help but think of my mom. She thinks they are going to lead me down the wrong path. I can still hear my mom's voice, "John I know what's best for you. Those hussies don't know how to take care of you the way I do."

I called and was surprised when she didn't answer the way she always does. I left her a message telling where we were going and that I'd be home late and not to wait up. Early in the evening me and my friends decided to go to the lake and build a bonfire. And as usual Brandon brought the beer. Even though we are under age, he has a way of securing the alcohol. Everything was going good until we saw lightening light up the sky.

Lightening flashed, lighting the inside of my car for a moment before the rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. Sally and I were in the backseat and I let out another moan when she pulled my jeans down far enough to completely expose my raging hardon.

I started to unbutton her blouse but she stopped me. "I'm on my period John. Let me help you and next week we can resume playing."

"Fuck," was my response but when she leaned down and took me into her mouth, I forgot about sinking my cock into her cunt and for a few minutes I forgot about my mom telling me Sally was a bitch. Sally knew how to make me squirm with lust and soon I was moaning, feeling her hot mouth sliding up and down my shaft before she pulled off and wrapped my cock in a napkin. She told me she didn't like the taste of semen as I shot a thick load into the paper napkin.

The rain began to pelt the car harder and Brandon texted everyone telling them the night was over and he was going home. I dropped Sally off and on the way home thought of my mom all alone at the house. I recently turned 18 and she had me when she was 15. She told me numerous times that she didn't know the father but she didn't want to give up the baby. So I was raised by my mom without a father and she was the only parent I knew.

I love my mom and thought she knew what was best for me, never challenging her authority. But lately I was getting the feeling I wanted to make a lot of my own decisions. I know she means well but I need to be more independent and lately it has led to some heated disagreements between us. In fact I was growing tired of always arguing with her about small trival things, like going out with girls. She always seemed to think I should stay home with her but I was 18 and eager to spread my wings so to speak.

It was almost 2 am in the morning when I got home and saw her bedside light still on through the window. I shuddered a little thinking what she might have to say about Sally and being out so late. I walk into the house, feeling a bit nervous as to what she might want to talk about.

 

[apom]

A light snaps on out in the living room and I quickly grab the t-shirt and wipe myself.

Jo, you idiot.

My heart flips as his footfalls echo on the hardwood floor. He's alone!

Flinging the musky shirt toward the bathroom I step to the closet, pull a nighty from a hanger and drop it over my head. It falls over my body to the generous curves of my hips, and I tug it down the rest of the way, straightening it over my boobs.

I haven't worn this one in a while and it's probably a size too small anymore, snug across the bust and from the waist down, and cuts me fairly high across the thighs, but it's comfortable and I like the way it looks. Nobody ever sees me in my jammies anyways, well, nobody but my son and some of his friends when they roll in and catch me working in the kitchen or reading on the couch.

The dark circles of my areolas show through the top, and I covered myself and scampered out red-faced the first time it happened. Being around them was a bit awkward for a while after that. I mean, the way my nipples jutted out into the thin, white cotton, like the poles of a circus tent, saying HELLO BOYS! What must they think of me?

What do you think of yourself, slut?

I pause for a moment to compose myself and think for a second about tying the laces across the plunging neck of the nighty, but I bulge into the top and the neck gaps open, so I can't do that if I want to. Really, how long has it been since I had this thing on?

Forgetting what a mess my face is, I flip the light switch off and step out the door. Our house is small, a little cabin in the woods, centered around this living room where we spend most of our time. A rustic rug covers the center of the floor, surrounded by oak planks the color of a gun stock. Knotty pine panels the walls, yellow with age, broken by doorways leading into the entry hall, the kitchen and our bedrooms. The TV hangs on the wall opposite the kitchen door, fronted by a brown cloth-covered couch shaped like an L.

John isn't in sight but the kitchen light is on and I head that way. The house is old and breezy, and the sides of the nighty slit to my waist and gap wide across the outer curves of my bare thighs. I shiver.

God, I miss him when he's gone, and my heart is always happy when he comes home to me, where he belongs, but I hate the looks he gives me when I hug and kiss him and ask him about his day. Sometimes I don't, and it always leaves me in a mood when I don't know where he's been, what he's been doing or who he's been doing it with. He was always such an open and happy boy, always eager to talk to his mom. And I get it. He's definitely not a boy anymore. But I'm his mom and boy or man, he will always be mine.

I try to smile as I spot him over at the fridge and approach, opening my arms and hugging him from behind. I'm 5'2" in bare feet and bury my face in the middle of his back and wrap my arms around him. I snuggle my face into his muscular body and breathe him in. God he smells good, all outdoor air and...man.

I just can't help myself. "Have fun?" I ask, not really wanting to know. "Who else was there? What'd you guys do?" Getting no reply I nudge him around to face me and try to hide the anger and pain as I look up into his eyes...

 

[Rocket1010]

As I scrouge through the refrigerator for something to munch on, I feel like my life is in a huge turmoil. I'm angry at Sally because she is on her period and I really wanted more sex tonight. Instead I got a blow job and then a hand job to finish it off. It seems like it has been ages since we've had sex.

My job sucks at the manufacturing plant since they could only give me part time work for the summer. I have to decide about college and whether I want to go or not. And thinking about college I get the feeling that leaving home, my mom will be devastated.

And there is my mom, so clingy, so needy, always wanting to know where I've been and what I've been doing and with who. It was fine when I was a little boy and she made sure I had everything she could give me. We didn't have a lot but she made sure that every birthday was filled with presents.

But when I becamce a teenage, the teasing got to be a bit much sometimes with my friends. They teased when she showed up at my sporting games, hugged me tightly after the game, and then held my hand. My friends said she was my girlfriend and I was embarrased sometimes when some of the girls were nearby and heard their teasing.

It just seemed the whole world was crashing around me and I was in a tight cocoon. And now it was 2 am and I had a feeling my mom was still awake. As I pulled an apple out of the refrigerator, I feel your arms wrap around me, your hard nipples rubbing against my back. I feel a shiver slice through me, feeling your head rest on the middle of my back.

I must have gotten my dad's height because at 5'10" I seem to tower over your 5'2" height. I sense that you are going to start your inquistion and you don't disappoint me when you ask the same question you ask everytime I come home. "Have fun?" Everytime ..... everytime the same question whether I go to the store or come home from work or go out with friends ..... the same question. And I reply the same as I always do .... "Yes I had fun."

I know the rest is coming when you ask, "Who else was there? What'd you guys do?" It's the same question again and when I don't reply immediately, I feel your breasts pushing against my body as you nudge your way to stand in front of me. I can see the anger and pain in your eyes, wanting to know who was spending time with your boy .... your baby .... John.

I look down at your night shirt, seeing your nipples poking out and your cleavage. I feel something .... not sure what the hell it is .... but I know I shouldn't have those feelings. A vision of your naked breasts jumps into my brain and I try to shake it off. But with what happened with Sally tonight, I can't shake it and wonder what your tits would look like. I try again to shake off the images and succeed at least for the moment.

I was wound tight as I mustered enough to say, "Sally and I went to the lake with Brandon and some other friends. I told you that in my phone message." My voice is tinged with anger that I have to repeat where I've been and who I've been with every fucking time. I see the hurt in your eyes when I mention Sally's name knowing you think she's not good enough for me. Recently, as I get out into the world I suspect you'll never see any girl or woman good enough for me. ..... except you.

I could feel the anger growing and my fists curled into balls as I speak about the bonfire and then the rain. I wasn't going to tell you what happened in the backseat of my car. But with all the anger and frustration in my life coming down on me like an avalanche roaring down a mountain side, I said. "And yes mom. We had sex .... well partly sex. Seems she is on her period and all she could do was give me a half-hearted blow job and she wouldn't take my cum but made me ejacuate into a napkin."

Why in the hell was I telling my mother this embarrasing tale? I feel you back away suddenly and with my hands on your shoulders, I feel your nightshirt slip off your shoulders and it just seems to disappear falling off you and leaving you naked in front of me.

"Mom .... I'm sorry," I try to say but then I think it's the total buildup and of years of coddling and cuddling, I give you a devilish smile. I put my hands on your shoulders and I feel my hands shaking, wondering what the hell I'm doing. "Go on mom I know you've wanted to see what your boy .... turned into man looks like." With nervous anticipation, I push on your shoulders until you are kneeling before me.

Suddenly a lightening flash filled the kitchen and a roar of thunder shook the house as another storm hit. But like the storm outside, I wondered what kind of storm I started in the kitchen, seeing your eyes looking up and me and then at my jeans.

 

[apom]

"Yes, I had fun," you say, the edge in your voice cold, cutting. I wince. Yes, I've been strict, held you back, kept you close, but only to protect you, my son, because I love you more than anything, more than anyone else ever could. Can't you see?

"Who else was there?" I ask, knowing, my voice quiet, quivering, accusing in my passive-aggressive way. "What did you guys do?"

My throat tightens at your silence, my hands falling to your waist and gently urging you around to face me. I don't want to see but I have to know. I look up into your face, searching.

Your eyes fall on me, as steely as your voice. I see your judgement. I feel your rage and I want to look away. But I can't. You command my gaze in a way that you have never commanded me before. I have needed to keep you close, safe, and loving you this hard has demanded all of me since the moment I gave you life. Standing before you here, now, though you're not a boy for me to nurture. You're not even mine. I am yours. And that is all.

My face heats as your eyes graze my form, and for the first time in 18 years I'm conscious of my body in your presence.

"Sally and I went to the lake with Brandon and some other friends. I told you that in my phone message."

Ah, the hot little whore. Johnny was inside you for a whole nine months, Josi. Bet he's been inside her too. Heh. Loogout bitch! The boy is pissed!

The sound of your voice breaks me out of the trance and I just stand for a second. You're angry and I don't understand. What can I do? What can I say to make things the way they used to be? You have to see. You have to know. Don't you? Pretty girls like her are a dime a dozen, but, my son, you are a man. You need a woman and I am me, your mom, and I am right here, for you, for now and for always. Please, let me show you--like I always have...

"We built a bonfire..."

I stare at the floor between my feet and nod absently along as you recount your evening...

"Rain... Brandon..."

...wishing things could have been different, that maybe if I'd not yelled...

"Beer..."

....if we'd just sat and talked about it like we always had...

"Sally..."

...You wouldn't have gone. We'd have had cake and you'd have sung happy birthday, and we'd have watched funny movies until...

"...the back seat of my car. And yes, mom, we had sex..."

My heart thuds.

"... all she could do was give me a half-hearted blow job..."

My head swims.

"... made me ejaculate into a napkin."

I tremble as I back away, my knees...weak, my breaths quick and shallow, heat overcoming me and I... I... don't even know... But then I'm standing in front of you, staring at the floor, and the nighty pooling innocently around my feet...

My head pulses. My heart Slams. My body heavess for breath. What? Wwwhat???

You say something but blood is thrumming like thunder in my ears, and then your hands are on my slender shoulders, heavy, powerful, demanding, pressing me to the floor.

Lightning Strikes.

I don't fight.

My bare knees spread across the cold hardwood as I sink in front of you, terror slamming in my chest. I glance up timidly, a wail welling in my throat as for the first time I recognize the all too familiar look gripping your face: fury, raw and plain, years of resentment and hate that have been boiling inside you as I have smothered and ignored you all of your life.

All I ever wanted was to love you.

My eyes meet yours, tears of submission streaking my face, pleading, begging you for forgiveness, for permission. You withdraw your hands from my bare shoulders and press your hips forward, a wordless command I know very well.

My heart is going to pound through my ribcage. I can feel the pulse in the painfully engorged tips of my nipples, wetness beading between my parted legs and my face flushing hotly with shame. I avoid your eyes but I can feel the heat of your gaze on top of my head as I reach to unfasten the button at your waist and ease your zipper down. I tug at your pants, down over your thighs a just enough that I can get my hands inside and free your hardened cock. It's brutally obvious that I've done this kind of thing a thousand times before.

My hands are warm and skillful, just ungentle enough as they lift your balls from the denim, squeezing with the firm, loving touch of an expectant mother. Always the vocal slut and quite the generous self-lubricator, I moan as thick dew slides down the insides of my thighs, sob, crying softly and taking you into my hands, pushing back the foreskin of your rigid, uncut organ and gasping like a little girl as its shiny, bulging purple head blooms in front of my face.

Leaning forward, I bow my head and tenderly lick the mucous from from you, the tiny pungent bits of creamy yellow from the creases and folds of skin, cleaning you as I have so many times before, this time my mouth the tool of your genital hygiene. Pausing, I swallow--mucous and ammonia and salt.

I lean close again, my lips parting over your swollen head, tongue squirming over its slick surface, pointed and dipping into the salty little hole at its tip. I breathe heavily against you, hot and lusty, and rise up on my thick haunches, frantically pulling your pants down below the cleft of your tight bottom, my hands simultaneously releasing you and curling around the backs of your bare thighs as I press my face into your crotch, my jaws spreading wide to accommodate your girth, you meeting my force and and pushing your pelvis forward, thrusting the corpulent shaft of your cock deep into my throat.

I gag.