Getting What I Deserved

"What other hand?"

"There's no positives here for you?"

"I don't want to tell you."

"I said, complete honesty here."

"OK, Griffey. But if something comes out here that hurts you, it's your fault."

"That's right."

"OK." Mom took a deep breath. I know, because I could see her breasts rise. "I'm 44 years old. I've had a moderate amount of sex in my life, with a number of partners. I don't think you want to hear about them all, but if you insist, I'll tell you. I'll just say, that some of my partners weren't appropriate, in some way or another, and it seems like the sex I've liked the most were with those people. So here's how it is, Griffey. I hate having sex with you. I really hate it. But it's also been some of the best sex in my life. And because of the job and how I'm feeling over all, I'm happier now than I've been in a long time. So I don't know how to balance the idea that my own motherfucking son is fucking me, and I'm happy."

"Thanks Mom. I really appreciate you're telling me that." I looked in her face, and saw she was getting very emotional, which is not usual for her. Usually, her only emotion is depressed.

"You want me to tell you how I feel about this?"

"If you want to."

"You know what? Never mind. Roll over." I got Mom into doggy style.

"If you don't want to see my face, you don't have to. But you still know who it is ploughing into you." And I started fucking her for real. Her heavy breasts swayed with each of my thrusts. I cupped them, playing with the nipples.

In minutes, Mom was howling in heat.

"Who's fucking you, Mom?" I asked

"You are, Griffey. Fuck me good, son."

That did me. I spritzed her insides full of cum juice.

Later, as we lay on the bed, recuperating, I said, "Oh, by the way, Mom. Drieka knows all about us."

Chapter 9

The one thing about having a lot of sex—even if it's with your mom—when you're 18? It doesn't get old. You want to try new things, and you want to do the old things again, just to see if you still like it. I felt like I was a kid in a candy store. Sometimes I might feel like maybe I should cut down. Too much candy isn't good for you, of course. But on the other hand, how often do you get to be locked in a candy store with no one looking? When you're in such a situation, you've got to take advantage.

I got up early the next morning. Mom was just getting out of the shower.

"Griffey, I'm all wet!"

"I like it that way. I need a blowjob, Mom."

"OK, Griffey, if you insist."

"Oh, I do. And I want you to swallow my cum."

"Griffey, I'll let you come in my mouth, but I'd rather not swallow."

"All right, I'll make you a deal. You don't have to swallow, but you won't spit it out."

"What do you mean?"

"After I come in your mouth, you'll let me suck my cum out of your mouth."

"Griffey, that's... OK, if that's what you want."

"Unwrap your towel, mom."

She unwrapped, and was naked before me. I flipped off my bathrobe and was naked before her, hard cock jutting out.

Mom walked up, and put her face in my face, as she grabbed my cock, hard. "Is this what you want, mister? You want me to give you a blow job?"

"You got that right."

"You want your poor old mom, who works so hard for you, to get on her knees, and take your dirty cock in her mouth?"

"That would give me a lot of pleasure."

Mom was jerking on my cock as we talked. If her concept was this would shorten our time, it was working. And I didn't mind at all. It was good to see Mom taking a little more control. And in a sexy way, too.

"So this time, you're not going to stick this big cock in my pussy?"

"Nope, in your mouth, mom."

"My pussy isn't good enough for you?"

"You've got a great pussy, Mom. But today, I'm going to stick it in your mouth."

"And cum in my mouth?"

"And fill your mouth with my cum."

"Well, you better not waste any more of my time."

"I won't. Get on your knees, Mom, and stick your tongue out." She did, and I slapped my cock on her tongue several times.

"Can you taste my cum already?"

"Yes, I taste it."

"Good." And with that, I shoved my cock into my mom's mouth so hard she went "woomph."

Other times, I'd be gentle with the blowjob. Didn't feel like I could challenge her this way. Today, I just went with my feelings. And those feelings said, oh my god, I can't believe how amazing it is to have those wet lips, that savory tongue, that sweet mouth working over my cock.

It didn't take long. I looked down, watching my cock go in and out of mom's mouth, her breasts bouncing with the action, and I burst. Shot after shot went into that mouth. Cum started to dribble out of the right side, as she worked to contain it all.

I slid to my knees, as the power of the orgasm robbed me of the ability to keep standing. I was at her level again.

"Wow," I said. "Now kiss me."

Mom kissed me, and I was shocked not to be given a mouthful of jizz. I knew I planted a lot there, and I wasn't sure how much I was going to actually like lapping it out of her mouth. I had tasted my cum before, of course, when masturbating. I didn't love it, but I didn't hate it either. It just seemed like a really sexy thing to do, drink your cum out of your mother's mouth. So I was even partly confused when I pulled away from our deep kiss, with barely a glisten of sperm in my mouth.

Mom smiled at me, in a sort of triumphant way. "I swallowed," she said.

I nodded dumbly. "I thought you didn't want to."

"I didn't want you to take it from me either."

"Why?"

"Don't know. I just didn't."

"So it was OK for you to swallow after all."

Mom nodded, a little devilish gleam in her eye. "I kind of liked it."

"Good to hear, Mom. Good to hear."

That evening, at dinner, we were having another of our no-conversation, just-look-down-at-your-food-and-eat type affair. No one ever liked this, but no one ever did anything about it either. This time, I decided not to let the old patterns rule.

"Mom, how come you never ask Drieka any questions?"

"Why should I ask her questions?"

"To see if there's something going on in her life."

"If there's something going on, she can tell me without my asking. Right Dree?"

"Yeah."

"That's not the way it works, Mom. Big things could be happening in her life, and she doesn't want to tell you because she thinks you don't care. And if you don't ask, you won't find out."

"Is this true, Drieka?"

"No."

"Yes it is," I said. "Mom, the only way you'll find out things in her life is to show that you care about her life. And that's by talking with her. And you don't do that."

"OK, I will. Drieka, how are things?"

"Fine," Drieka said sullenly. She does sullen good. It's the major look on her face. Now I look a bit like mom, and from the pictures, it seems like Drieka looks like Dad. I don't know if Dad practiced his sullen look, but it seemed like all three of us were good at this look.

"See, Griffey. Things are fine."

"Come on, Mom. You know better than that. When I was over at Paul's house, his parents have a rule that everyone at the dinner table has to say one good thing and one bad thing that happened to them that day. I think we should try it."

"OK," Mom said. "Who's going to start it?"

"I will," I said. "Good thing. At work today, the salad cook didn't come in. So I was put on salad duty. And my manager said I did a good job. Coming from him, that means I must have done a really good job, since he doesn't like to give compliments. And bad thing, he did yell at me once. I dropped some mushrooms I had been chopping, and I picked them up and put them on the cutting board, and he caught me. He yelled at me for not following the rules. OK, who's next?"

"OK, me," said Mom. "Good thing. I had lunch with this woman, Lucy, at work. I've seen her around, but never talked with her before. Anyway, we really hit it off, and we have a number of interests in common. So I feel like I may have a new friend. And bad thing. Let me see. Oh, I saw that the caulk has been coming off the bathtub. I stopped by the hardware store and picked up some new caulk, and over the weekend, that will have to be a project."

Wow, Mom and a house project. Very unusual. Good stuff.

"Drieka?"

"I don't like this game."

"It's not a game," I said.

"I don't want to play."

"It's not a game," Mom parroted. "I do want to know."

"Fine. Good thing. Nothing bad happened at school. Bad thing, my mother is fucking

my brother."

"Actually, I'm fucking her," I corrected.

"Fine. She lies there like a lump and you fuck her," she said.

"Drieka, I'm so sorry," mom said.

"You're sorry that it's happening, or that I know about it?"

"Both. Both."

"Well, great."

"You want to talk about it?"

"No."

There was a deadly calm. We all had stopped eating, and were just looking at one another.

Finally, Drieka shouted, "How can you be doing this?"

"I already told you," I said.

"No, I mean mom. Mom, how can you be doing this?"

Mom took a deep breath. "That's a fair question. And I'm not sure I can answer it fully. I'll do my best. I know I've been a bad mom. I love you both, but it seems like I don't know how to show it. I've damaged you both, I know, and I feel terrible about it. Griffey came up with a way that he says will make him feel better. And I think it's true, now that we're having sex, he feels better about himself, and maybe about me. I feel worse about me, a lot, but I'm doing it for his sake. I only learned that you knew about it this morning, so I want to apologize. I should have told you sooner. I should have told you first. But I guess I was a coward. And we haven't been talking much lately, so that's my fault too. I'm just a bad mom." She started to cry.

Drieka didn't care. "That's not what I'm talking about."

"What are you talking about?" Mom asked.

"I mean, physically, how can you have sex with your son?"

"Drieka, when you get to be my age, you learn certain things, and one is sex is just sex. At your age, I know, you're all concerned about whether a boy likes you, or what's the relationship between sex and love, and all sorts of questions like that. I'm not saying having sex with Griffey is easy. It's not. But in the end, it's still just a man and a woman. As a woman, I've had sex with people I wasn't in love with. That's hard the first few times, but it gets easier. Maybe it shouldn't, but it does."

"How many people have you had sex with whom you didn't love?

"More than one. It's hard to count, precisely. Sometimes I had sex with a boyfriend who I thought I was getting to love, but then it turned out I didn't love him. Sometimes I had sex with someone because he did something for me, and I wanted to thank him. It wasn't love, but it was gratitude, and that's meaningful in sex, too."

Interesting, I thought. I'd like to hear more.

"Women sometimes use sex as a tool. Much more than men, I'd say. I've used sex to get what I want, or to make men worship me. Well, not worship, but maybe...OK, worship. I'm not saying that was right, either. But a lot of people do it. It's like stealing. I've stolen a few items in my life. I'm not proud of it, and I guess I'd have to say I'm lucky nothing bad ever really came out of it. But while you're doing it, you're aware you're doing the wrong thing. It's kind of thrilling and awful at the same time. And that's the way I feel about having sex with Griffey. It's a new king of thrilling awfulness. Do you understand?

I think Drieka was blown away from hearing all this. "Yes," she said.

"Also, because I've had sex to get what I want, I understand Griffey's desire. I haven't been the mother he deserves. You and he deserves more than I've been able to give, and I feel terrible about that. Even worse. So if this is what he wants from me, I can give it to him. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Obviously, I can't give you sex to make up for what I've been lacking as your mother. But I can try hard to be a better mother starting now. And I really want to, baby."

"OK, mom."

"Does that answer your question?"

"I think so."

"I'm sorry, baby. If you tell me to stop having sex with Griffey, I will. I love you, and I'm sorry I've hurt you."

"No, I want you to keep having sex with him. Life is getting better around here. Bizarrely. You've both got jobs. You seem happier. You should continue."

"But how about you? Are you happier?"

"No. But maybe I'll get used to it. Right now, it still seems extremely weird."

"It is extremely weird. You're right. And I'm hoping not to get used to it, because that probably wouldn't be good."

"Can I ask one thing more?" asked Drieka.

"Sure, baby."

"Can you be more discrete? I mean, you were loud as anything last night. And sometimes it's clear you've barely got clothes on."

"I promise," said Mom.

"Me too," I said. Inwardly, I was smiling. I like making Mom scream, and if she felt like she had to muffle her screams, that sounded exciting too.

Chapter 10

After we brought in the dishes, I whispered to Mom, "I thought that went very well."

"Me too. I was nervous, but she deserved to know."

"I know you gave me a great blowjob this morning, but since that conversation went so well, I have to fuck you now too."

"Griffey, no, we shouldn't."

"Tell Drieka you're going to do some laundry."

"OK."

Mom went out. "Drieka, do you have anything I should put in the laundry? I'm going to run a load."

"You?" Drieka asked, giggling. It's true, the two of us had mostly been doing the laundry for the last 10 years. Me mostly, but Drieka did it about a third of the time.

"Yes, I still know how to do it."

"No, I'm good."

"OK." Mom went to her room, and brought the hamper down. It was only a few items, but she pushed them in the machine, added some powder, and hit the start button.

"I want to talk more about our conversation at dinner," I said.

"Mm, OK."

"But first..." I raised Mom's skirt, and pulled down her panties. I then picked her up, and placed her on the washing machine. I gave her snatch a few licks, and saw she was wet really quickly. I thought I might fuck her standing up, while she was on the machine, but I saw that wouldn't work. The machine was much too high. Then I realized there was just enough room for her to lie down with her ass on the washer and her head on the dryer. I worked her into that position, and then clambered up on top of her.

Without any ado, Mom parted her legs, giving me easy access to the vagina I once came out of. I immediately entered, before she changed her mind. I stayed there for short while, and could feel the vibrations of the machine worked their way through her and into me.

"That was very honest of you," I said to her, as I started to fuck her.

"It felt good to tell her the truth," Mom replied, a little breathlessly.

"Honesty is love and caring. I think that's been a problem in the past," I said. "In your depression, you weren't honest with yourself, or with us. So it's good when you can do it."

"Ssh, honey, not so much talking. Drieka might hear us."

I nodded, and started to pound into her. Mom's eyes started to light up, and I could tell she was about to start shrieking. I put my hand over her mouth, and pounded harder.

"Nnnn! Nnnn!" Mom whimpered into my hand. She came, just as an early spin cycle started. As the rinse cycle started, shortly after, I injected Mom with another serving of jizz.

We got down off the machines, and Mom's skirt was semi-drenched. She looked around for a replacement, or towel, but nothing was handy. She decided just to make a break for her bedroom, her hair decidedly flying askew. I ambled into the living as if nothing happened.

Drieka was on the couch, and had seen Mom zoom by. She took a look at me, and simply said, "Again?"

I nodded.

"How was it?"

"I couldn't possibly tell you." But Drieka saw the look on my face, and she knew.

"Mom, tonight I think we should have anal sex."

You know, I've said a lot of dirty things to my mom. But this was one I was just having a hard time wrapping my lips around. I practiced it in my head a number of times, and it never seemed to come out right. How do you ask your mom for anal sex? And if you don't ask, you're not going to get it, right? Maybe it will somehow come up naturally, but it hadn't so far. And I was really interested in trying.

So finally, I decided just to screw up my courage and say it. Still, it came out a lot differently.

I had just finished a lot of chores for mom. I ran and unpacked the dishwasher. I ran a load of her underwear. I had done some chores in the yard, and straightened out a problem with the credit card that had her flummoxed. I reminded her of all I was doing for her.

"Thanks, Griffey. I'm so glad to have you around."

"Thanks mom. And you know how you could thank me tonight?"

"I think I have an idea."

"Well, tonight, I think we should try something different. Something new. I mean, something we haven't tried before."

"What are you trying to say, Griffey?"

Finally. "I think we should try anal sex."

"I don't really like anal sex, Griffey. How about we do 69? We haven't done that in a while."

This was the first time Mom proposed a position. I wasn't sure whether it was because that was a position she wanted to do, or it just seemed preferable to what I was suggesting.

"How many times have you done anal, Mom?"

"It's been several times."

"With Dad?"

"With several people. I just don't like it as much. It hurts, and it doesn't feel as good, either."

I could sense my opportunity melting away. "Are you saying you'll never do it?"

"No, not never, necessarily."

"Can you tell me when?"

"I used to do it when I was having my period, or when I was most fertile and didn't want to get pregnant."

"Oh, so when you say several times, you mean at least several dozen times?"

"I really didn't count."

"But you don't mean like two times in your whole life."

"Griffey, I'm 44 years old. I've had a variety of lovers and experiences in that time."

"I know, Mom. I'm OK with that. I'm just saying that you've had anal sex a moderate amount of times. I don't know what moderate is, but I've never had it, and I'm really interested in trying."

"Griffey, maybe you should find a girl who loves you and who wants to do these things with you."

Suddenly, it seemed like the momentum was back on my side. "I will, Mom. But until then, you're my girl, and I'm saying I want to fuck your butt. Tonight."

Mom looked at me, and said, "OK. But if it starts to get painful, you'll stop, OK?"

"You bet." I mean, it wasn't going to get painful for me, right?

Mom looked nervous at dinner. I tried putting her at ease, kissing her, touching her, feeling up her butt. It wasn't working. I put a movie she should have liked on TV after dessert, but she wasn't enjoying it, and wouldn't share the couch with me. I didn't force things, and just let her be.

Next thing I know, she's in her nightgown, even though it's only 9:30, and says she's tired and is going to bed. I'm in the middle of my computer game, so I initially didn't catch what was going on. Then I saw she was trying to weasel her way out of what she had agreed to.

I went up to my room, and watch a little mom porn. Usually I watch girls my age, or those in their 20s. Obviously, for me, even those count as older women. The chance of me bagging a woman who is 28 seems as unlikely as one who's old enough to be my mom. Well, really far more unlikely. I don't understand granny porn. How can you even fantasize about someone that old. Still, Erica Lauren—if you could wave a magic wand over Mom and make her into a porn star, that might I'd want her to look like. I was hard as a rock.