My mother is…weird. I never knew just how weird until she came home early from work one day, and caught me furiously masturbating to a Xena marathon on TV.
I’d just spewed all over my hands when I heard her say, “Xena, Warrior Princess? Seriously? You’re jacking off to Xena?”
Well, imagine my embarrassment! I thought my heart would explode as I twisted around and tried to cover my manhood with my wadded-up T-shirt. “Jeez, Mom, I’m sorry! I, I, I’ll accept whatever punishment you like, OK?” I scrambled to stuff myself in my pants and got up, my whole body glowing red like Rudolph’s nose.
She gave me a strange look. “I’m not going to punish you. I just can’t believe you’re masturbating to that Kiwi tart! You need to get some real jack-off material. Now go do your homework or something.”
I thought that was the end of it, but when I got back from school the next day, there was a stack of hardcore porno DVDs and magazines on my bed. I was a little embarrassed, but I used them…and they were a lot better than Xena, actually.
There was one other consequence of the masturbation incident. One night, as we were eating dinner together, Mom said suddenly, “Remember when I caught you jacking off the other day?”
I paused with a forkful of mashed potatoes halfway to my mouth. My mother has always been rather forthright, so this was no huge surprise. “What about it?” I asked cautiously.
“Well, I noticed one thing. You used to be in such nice shape back when you were on the swim team in high school, but frankly, you’re starting to look flabby.”
“College doesn’t leave a lot of time for things like extracurricular activities, Mom. Why do you think I don’t have a girlfriend?”
“I know, but do me a favor and do, say, 200 sit-ups a day, and maybe some chin-ups. That’ll help, won’t it?”
I allowed that it would, and promptly forgot about it. She called me on it a week later. I tried to make an excuse, but she just said, “You promised, and then you didn’t fulfill the promise. So start today. And from now on, when you’re home, leave your shirt off. I want to be able to see that you’re doing your exercises.”
“Jesus, bedava bahis Mom!”
“Caleb, honey, look here. I’m paying the rent and putting you through school, so you could do this one little thing for me.”
I thought it was freaky, but okay, fine. I slipped off my T-shirt right there and tossed it aside, and from then on, whenever Mom was home, I left my shirt off to show her that my upper body was, in fact, firming up from the exercise I was doing. I was annoyed about it, though — my own mom, forcing me to go around half naked! I decided to get back at her by making her more uncomfortable than I was. I started wearing just my boxers around, then shifted to nothing but tight-whities, and finally I dug out my smallest Speedo from high school and started parading around in that, proving that I was, in fact, all boy. Apparently this had the opposite effect than intended; she just looked at me with approval.
As for me, I was just increasingly uncomfortable at some subconscious level, for some reason I couldn’t identify. I wasn’t really ashamed about my mother seeing my body, but there was something…
It took my family law midterm to dredge it up out of my subconscious months later. I have no idea what the prof was on, but here’s what the sixth question said:
“A mother and son are shipwrecked on a completely uninhabited island for seven years. Assume that they have no visitors in all that time. When they are rescued, the population of the island has increased from two to six. What are the implications for family law?”
That one kind of knocked me for a loop, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I finished the exam, though, and made my way home. Later on, I was futilely trying to exorcise the incestuous thoughts from my mind by playing X-box when I felt my Mom’s presence behind me. “My, my, that’s quite a sight,” she said.
“What, Starswarm?” I asked.
“No. There in your swimsuit.”
I had an enormous boner. I tried to cover up and snapped, “Some privacy, please?”
“Okay, okay.” She plopped down on the edge of my bed. “So, are you jacking off to normal things now?”
I couldn’t believe casino siteleri her gall! I snapped, “Do you want to watch? Is that it, Mom?”
Quietly, she said, “Yes, actually.”
“Fine!” I peeled out of my Speedo and revealed my throbbing hardness to her. Blinded by lust, I started jacking my seven inches and growled, “This would work a lot better if you would show me your tits.”
She seemed hesitant, but then said, “Okay,” and took off her blouse, but not her bra. I didn’t need her to — about a minute later I shot a thick jet of cum that landed practically in her lap, five feet away.
And that’s how I started masturbating for my mother just about every day. Over the course of the next few weeks, I got her to start revealing her meaty, big-nippled tits to my lustful gaze, and then to start playing with them, tweaking the nipples with lust and abandon. For my part, I managed to start lasting a lot longer, because I really enjoyed the whole experience…and so did she. Finally, I got her to get fully naked, and show me her hot, wet motherly slit while I leaned close, breathing in her earthy essence as I pounded my pud.
One day I cried out in frustration, “Mom, let’s cut to the chase! Let’s just get in bed together and fuck!”
She refused me. “We can’t do that,” she insisted. “It’s illegal and unnatural. Looking at one another is one thing…but we mustn’t touch.”
That didn’t keep her from adding a huge dildo to the show, fucking herself with it in a slow, sensual way that set my semen boiling in my balls.
A couple of weeks later, I told her flatly, “I really want to fuck you, Mom. I need to screw your brains out.”
She just said, “No.”
“Fine! I’ll just have to hypnotize you into it!” I said jokingly, grabbing her big red dildo and swinging it in front of her face. “You’re getting very sleeeeeeepy,” I intoned.
No kidding, her face went absolutely blank, and she said in a monotone, “I’m getting very sleepy.”
What! There was no way she was actually hypnotized! She had to be fooling around. Taken aback, I gulped and said, “You are becoming hypnotized.”
“I am becoming bahis siteleri hypnotized.”
“You’re hypnotized now.”
“I am hypnotized.” She closed her eyes.
I grinned, then took a deep breath and said slowly, “Deep down, you really want to suck your son’s dick, don’t you?”
“…Yes. It’s so big and looks so tasty. I want to eat his cum.”
My heart racing, I said, “Aaaaand you want him to fuck you long and hard with that cock of his, right?”
“Of course. He’s so damn sexy.”
Holy shit! Moment of truth: “Why haven’t you done it?”
My mother whispered, “I could get pregnant.”
Well, I hadn’t expected that. “And what if you were to discover that your son is sterile, that he can’t make babies?”
It was just a hypothetical, but she jumped on it like a hungry bird jumps on a grasshopper. “He is? Oh my!”
I thought for a long moment, heart pounding in my throat, before I said to her, “Here’s what I want you to do. When I snap my fingers, you’ll waking feeling refreshed, but hot, wet, and sexy. After that, whenever you hear Caleb say, “Toodles, Mom,” you’ll lead him to your bedroom for passionate monkey sex. Okay?”
“‘Kay.”
I snapped my fingers and she said, “Honey, you’re so silly. We’re never going to have sex, so get that right out of your head.”
“If you say so,” I told her, and tossed her the dildo. Thank goodness I hadn’t come yet, because there was a lot I wanted to do. “Toodles, Mom.”
Immediately, she was up and walking toward her bedroom (we had been in the living room). I entered the room behind her as she climbed onto the bed on all fours and presented her furry snatch to me. “Fuck my like a bitch in heat, Caleb. Fuck me hard!”
A gentleman obliges a lady, so I slipped my swollen cock into her slick love tunnel and pounded her through several orgasms before I groaned and filled her womb with my seed. It was the single most erotic experience in my life.
I still don’t believe my mother was every hypnotized. I think she pretended to be so that she would have an excuse for fucking me without having to take any responsibility for it.
I don’t mind. Whether she’s hypnotized or not, I say “Toodles, Mom,” a lot, and she’s never complained. We’ve done it every day for years now, and we’ve never used protection…and Mom has never gotten preggers. So maybe I really am sterile…or maybe we’re protected by the power of suggestion.
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