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I don’t really remember when I developed this thing for my mom. It’s not like by most standards she’s anything special to look at. These guys who send in stories about their 50-year-old moms who look like high school cheerleaders — I don’t buy it. It’s the easiest way to tell the story’s made up. If you’re really doing your mom, or even if you just really want to, it’s not because of what she looks like. It’s because she’s your mom; because each time you slide into her you get this sweet, sickening feeling that something somewhere is breaking, and you never want it to stop breaking.
For me it may have started when I went away to college. I was 300 miles away from home in a strange city, living on my own for the first time, and I was on the internet a lot. I started visiting adult chat rooms for people in my new town, and often as not the women I found online were older than me. The age difference always became obvious right away, and the ones who weren’t immediately turned off by it usually got turned on by it after awhile. After some chatting I met up with a few of them at their apartments or at hotels, and I was amazed to see how into it they would get. Into the incest thing, I mean. You’ve never seen a woman cum until you’ve seen her fucked by a man half her age while he calls her “Momma” over and over again. It drives them fucking crazy.
Anyway, for a few years my sexual diet consisted exclusively of these Momma types. After college I met a girl closer to my own age (a couple years younger, actually), and a few years later we got married. But I never lost my appetite for older women, or for the incest fantasy in general. In some ways being locked into a monogamous relationship only made the fantasy more intense. Unable to satisfy it physically I had to use my imagination to make it kinkier and kinkier, until — well, you can guess the rest. You can only heave yourself against that mental wall so many times before either you or it come crashing down.
By the time I was 30 I had it bad. My marriage was great and I had a job I loved, but every time I went home to visit my parents I was in agony. My parents were still as much in love as ever and I couldn’t find the slightest ray of hope to feed my fantasy. I reacted by becoming a little cold around my mother. I made excuses not to visit and over the years made my way back home less and less. I could tell it hurt her a little, and I took a tiny amount of satisfaction in that. If I couldn’t have her, I wanted her to have some sense of what it was like to be unwanted.
All of that changed when my dad died. I got the call early in the morning and by that evening I was on a plane home, with my wife in the seat next to me. It was a heart attack. Mom was still in shock when we got there. She didn’t seem to have absorbed it yet. My sisters flew in from the other side of the country with their husbands, and we all spent the next few days making funeral preparations and sorting out Dad’s effects, and the nights getting drunk and talking about old times. Mom seemed happy to participate in the drinking — I think it helped keep reality at bay — but she sat off at a distance while we went over plans for the funeral and talked on the phone with lawyers and insurance companies. Dad had life insurance enough for three wives, and she wasn’t going to be wanting for anything.
Her detachment didn’t keep me from comforting her with the occasional hug or shoulder rub in the days before the funeral. She seemed happy that the distance between us seemed to be closing, even if the cause was a sad one. She had no idea how much more quickly and fiercely it would continue to close in the weeks to come.
After the funeral, my sisters and I went apart and talked for awhile about Mom. It was agreed that I, being a mere six hours away, would stay an extra week and, after that, would fly or drive down a couple times a month to check in on her. My sisters would take turns flying out every month or so. They were grateful for how much of my time I’d offered, and they headed back to their lives satisfied that our mother was in good hands. I told my wife about my plan to stay an extra week, and she flew home alone the next day.
I thought the freeze between Mom and me would continue to melt, but once the others were gone she became sad and withdrawn. I think the weight of a lonely future had begun to settle over her. Mostly she wanted to sleep, or sit on the couch doing embroidery. I tried to persuade her to get out of the house, maybe go to the beach or the park, but she wasn’t interested. I made reservations at a restaurant downtown, but it turned out to be a place she and Dad had gone to often. She was getting more and more depressed, but all I could think about was my own predicament. With just a few days left before I had to return to my life, my one chance was slipping away from me.
A couple of nights before I was due to head back I went to a bar by myself for a drink. Mom had turned in early and I needed to gaziantep escort clear my head. I was on my second beer when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around to see Eddie Rodriguez, my best friend in high school, beaming down at me. He sat down and we had a few more drinks and caught up on old times. Eddie’s little sister Gina was the object of quite a few adolescent fantasies in our school, and we’d have all been hanging all over her if not for Eddie. He was insanely protective of her, and after seeing a couple of guys get their faces adjusted the rest of us knew to stay away. I must have been on my fourth beer when I let it slip to Eddie how bad I’d wanted to ask his sister out. I was still half afraid he’d take a swing at me, but he just smiled and shook his head.
“You knew better, though,” he said, adding “and you still do, don’t you?”
I just laughed. “Still the crazy over-protective big brother, huh?” I said. “Are you trying to make sure she dies an old maid? Don’t you ever want her to have any fun?”
Eddie smiled a kind of sleazy grin and said, “She has plenty of fun, believe me.”
“Yeah right,” I said, taking another drink. “With who? Big brother? What, do you stay at home playing Monopoly every night? Doesn’t sound like much fun to me,” I said, trying to goad him, but he just took another swig of his beer and kept smiling.
“Not the kind of Monopoly you’re thinking of, but something like that, yeah,” he said. He was silent a moment, then asked suddenly, “Why do you think I was so protective of her in high school?”
“Cause you’re a dick,” I said.
“Yeah, but why?”
“You didn’t want her to have any fun, and you didn’t want us to either.”
He sat silently a moment, staring at me with the same sleazy grin. “Or… maybe I wanted to be the one having the fun.”
I looked at him blankly for a few seconds while the words fought through the alcoholic haze in my head.
“What?” I finally said, a smile breaking across my face.
He just smiled, clearly impressed with the response he’d gotten from me, though he didn’t know the real reason for it yet.
I quickly recovered from my shock, and seeing a rare opportunity I quietly unloaded my ten-year struggle with my Mom. He barely batted an eyelash.
When I was done he leaned in a little closer and said simply, “So when are you gonna do it?”
It wasn’t that simple, I told him. I explained her current state, and how hard it was to get any reaction at all out of her right now. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, just sat and sipped slowly and thoughtfully on what must have been his sixth beer. Then he got up and told me to come outside. In the parking lot he put the gate down on the bed of his truck and started laying out his plan. I caught a cab home afterward, and the whole ride home I was sure I was in the midst of the strangest dream.
The next night Mom and I were sitting in the living room playing Hearts. We were playing in the living room so that Mom could watch an old movie, which made it easier not to talk. Around 9:30 she said she was getting tired and stretched like she was about to stand up, when a noise caught her attention in the backyard. I heard it too but pretended not to.
“What was that?” she said, looking nervously toward the doorway to the kitchen.
“What was what?” I asked.
“That noise. I think something’s out there.”
I looked curiously in the direction she was staring. “I didn’t hear anything,” I said.
The noise occurred again, this time louder. It sounded like a two-by-four clattering on pavement.
“There,” she said. “You hear that?”
“Yeah. Probably just a cat.”
She still looked nervous, so I told her I’d go check it out. I tried to look nonchalant as I stood up, but my heart was in my throat. I was perfectly aware of the danger that was about to enter. I walked toward the kitchen doorway, but before I took five steps a man with a ski mask stood in front of me. I don’t know how he’d gotten in — the plan was that I’d come outside and investigate, and he’d use the opportunity to “force” his way in. But here he was, and I was ready for whatever would come.
The man held a six-inch hunting knife in one of his gloved hands. With the other he grabbed my by the face and shoved me back into my chair. I turned and looked at Mom — her face was white as a sheet and she stared unblinking at the intruder.
“There’s, there’s — ” she stammered, pointing at the TV and the stereo. “T-take whatever you want. Just please don’t hurt us.”
She looked over at me and I did my best to look just as terrified. Truth be told, I was probably more so.
“I’m gonna take what I want, don’t worry about that,” the man said.
He waved the knife toward the hallway and told us to get up. He herded us quickly into Mom’s bedroom at the end of the hall and told us to get up on the bed. When he produced a roll gaziantep escort bayan of duct tape from his coat pocket I got a little nervous. It seemed strange that he would have it on him — I’d rather he used something he found in the house. But when I looked over at Mom she seemed too petrified to be bothered by that minor detail.
The man barked out instructions rapidly. “Kneel — facing each other — you, straddle him — arms around her waist — yours around his neck — don’t want any space between you –“
He taped our wrists together, then circled the tape around our waists a couple of times to pull us more tightly together. When he was done he stepped back and assessed our captivity.
“Don’t fucking move. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said. This wasn’t according to plan either, but I was willing to roll with it. Down the hall I could hear him unplugging things and pulling them down from their shelves.
Mom was shaking slightly, and I hugged her a little closer, softly assuring her it would be ok. Her sagging boobs were right at eye level, but I had turned my head to the side so that my ear was tight against her chest. Her heart was racing violently, and with her bound hands she held my head more tightly to her.
I moved my hands up and down her back in a soft, soothing way. I made small movements at first, but after a few minutes I was pressing my fingers deeper into the muscles of her back and getting closer to her hips and ass. Her breathing slowed and deepened and she kept her arms wrapped tightly around my head as my hands moved imperceptibly lower. She probably thought I was scare, because she kept kissing the opt of my head and pulling me in closer to her chest, which made me in turn tighten my grip on her hips and pull her pelvis harder onto my hips. My head was flattened against her chest and I was practically rubbing her ass when Eddie came striding back into the room.
He was empty-handed, but from the noise he’d been making I knew he’d amassed a lot of loot down the hall. I was pissed. There had never been any mention of him robbing the place, but I guess he felt he needed something out of the deal for himself. In any case, I was in no position to call him on it.
“Well, aren’t we cozy,” he said, seeing my hands spread across the top of her ass.
“Don’t let me stop you,” he went on. “In fact, let’s get a little closer.”
He held the knife out toward us and we both froze. With a couple of quick slashes he cut away the tape around our waists and sliced through the back of Mom’s blouse. A moment later he had cut apart the straps on the back of her bra as well. She gave a little yelp as he tore the pieces of her bra from her body and the remnants of her top fell from between us.
“How’s that — better?” he asked me.
I did my best to look horrified. I wanted nothing more than to bury my face between her beautiful old breasts, but I knew it would ruin everything. I clenched my jaw and turned away from her.
“Come on, now, that’s no way to thank me,” he said.
He grabbed me by the hair and pushed my face between her boobs, shaking it back and forth while I gasped for air. When he let go of my hair I didn’t pull my face back right away, but left my forehead buried in her flesh while I caught my breath.
“Why are you doing this?” I heard my mother say. I pulled my head back and glanced up at her nervously, but she wasn’t looking at me.
“Take everything in the house if you want, but please stop this,” she said. Her features looked haggard and she had a faraway look in her eyes.
He leaned in close and pressed the flat of the blade against her shoulder.
“I am going to take everything in the house, and for now that includes this,” he said, waving the knife at the two of us. “Now,” he said, taking hold of my hair again, “suck.” And he wrenched my face toward her right nipple.
I didn’t do it immediately. I kept my mouth and my eyes clenched tightly shut. He seemed to expect this because he calmly pulled my head back and placed the tip of the knife under her boob.
“I see. Maybe you’d be more comfortable if it wasn’t attached to her. You can go to it or it can come to you, but one way or another it’s going in your mouth.”
He released my hair and turned the blade of the knife upward as if preparing to sliced. I hesitated another moment before Mom said, “It’s ok. Let’s just get him out of here quickly.” My head fell forward and I took her breast between my lips.
I didn’t do much with it at first. I didn’t want to seem like I was enjoying any of this, so I just sort of held the end of the nipple between my lips. Eddie quickly realized I was stalling, and he brought the knife back to rest on her boob.
“I didn’t say to kiss it, I said suck it!” he leered.
I blinked, unsure of how forcefully to proceed even in the face of his threat. Mom, whose hands had never left their position escort gaziantep behind my head, settled it by very slightly, almost imperceptibly, pulling me closer to her. With that tiny encouragement, I opened my mouth wider and took her nipple into a deeper kiss. My lips closed around it and sucked it in, and my tongue flicked across it and swirled around it. I closed my eyes again, and my hands, which had balled into fists as soon as Eddie re-entered the room, relaxed and returned to their place on the small of her back just above her large rump. I could feel her breath quickening again as I sucked away on her boob, and once again my hands started softly kneading her flesh, inching their way lower. Eddie gave me little sleazy encouragements, and kept asking Mom how she liked it, but of course neither of us replied. After a couple of minutes he told me to suck on the other one for awhile, and I reluctantly, slowly let her reddened tit fall from my lips and moved my mouth to the other, my hands now practically cupping her ass.
After a few more minutes Eddie pulled my head back again and told Mom to hold her hands up. He cut the tape from her wrists, and a look of relief washed over Mom’s face as she assumed we were being released. But Eddie had other plans. He had me lift my arms over her, and she quickly dismounted from my lap. Before she could move to the edge of the bed, Eddie waved her back toward me with the knife.
“Unzip his pants,” he said sharply.
The blood instantly drained from Mom’s face as the words hung in the air.
“Please don’t do this. Don’t make me do this,” Mom said, surprising both me and Eddie with a little lunge in his direction. “You can do whatever you want to me. Just take me into the other room and you can do whatever you want. Don’t make me do this.” She was clinging to his shirt and her hands started going lower, fumbling with his belt as she spoke. Eddie just laughed, grabbed her wrists and turned her back around toward me.
“We might just do that, but you’re going to do what I tell you first, or he’s gonna be the one to pay for it. Now take his fucking pants off!”
I thought about helping her out, but again I didn’t want to seem like any less a captive than herself. So I swallowed hard a couple of times and watched mesmerized as she slowly made her way back over to me and began undoing my pants.
“Lay back,” Eddie barked at me, and I did as he said. “Pull them all the way off,” he said to Mom, and her trembling fingers slowly, apologetically hooked the waistband of my pants and pulled them down to my ankles and dropped them to the floor.
“The boxers too,” Eddie said, and without looking at what was under them she stripped my shorts off of me and dropped them on my pants.
My cock isn’t huge, about 5 inches, but it was pretty rock solid by this time. Eddie glanced at it, then at me, then turned that huge sleazy grin on Mom.
“Looks like somebody enjoyed suckin’ his momma’s boobs a little more than he should have. How about you return the favor. Start sucking his cock.”
Mom just sat there not looking at either of us for a moment. Now it was my dick that was in danger of being cut off.
“I’m not going to tell you again,” Eddie said, pressing the blade into the thick patch of hair at the base of my cock. “You can suck it attached or detached, but it’s going in your mouth.”
My eyes grew wide with a fear that wasn’t entirely fake. Mom took one look at my face, then bent her head over my waist. She took the head into her mouth and just held it there at first. Her eyes were tightly shut and I could tell she was trying hard not to think about what she was doing. It occurred to me for a moment that maybe this was a first for her. I had no idea what my parents’ sex life was like, but it was very possible she had never given head before in her life. Her lips were very dry, and her little back and forth movements over my knob were kind of painful.
After a few more threats from Eddie she loosened up a bit and wet her lips and started taking more of me into her mouth. Any doubts I’d had about her experience evaporated after a few minutes. Don’t get me wrong — it was a fairly mechanical blow job. When you’re being forced to suck your son’s cock at knife-point you can’t be expected to be that into it. But she knew how to keep her teeth out of the way while she sucked her cheeks in, and she even swirled her tongue around the head every now and then. It was bliss. Eddie grabbed my hands, which were still bound by tape, and placed them on her head, and it didn’t take long before I had two handfuls of her hair and was very lightly pushing and pulling on her head while pumping my hips in a fucking motion. She didn’t object, but she kept her hands squarely on the bed, her own fists full of the quilt we were laying on.
“All right, that’s enough,” Eddie said after about ten minutes. I swallowed hard in anticipation of what was coming next. He grabbed Mom by the shoulder and wrenched her around so that she was on her hands and knees facing away from me. He shoved her knees back a little to make her ass go a little higher, and whacked her arms so she was resting on her elbows. I got up on my knees and did my best to look horrified. It wasn’t that far from what I was feeling.
“Now fuck her,” he said sharply.
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