Getting What I Deserved

I went into Mom's room. She was in bed, flipping through a magazine. I walked straight into her bathroom, where I slathered on a handful of Vaseline.

When I came out, Mom started to ask, "What..." but then she saw my dripping erection.

"Turn over, Mom."

I had to repeat my direction, before she did.

In thinking about this, as I did all day long, I had in mind a really sexy evening, in which I brought Mom to a number of orgasms before I slipped it up her butt. But she was telling me was to change my plans.

"You've got a nice ass, Mom," I said, as I flipped her nightgown up, exposing it. It actually was way too large, by standard beauty scales. But I didn't mind lying under the circumstances. I played with her pussy and fingered her asshole for a minute or two, feeling her get wet. And with no prior announcement, I put my dick at her little bung hole, and started to push. I had so much grease on me, I went in very smoothly, and without too much trouble.

At the same time, I was amazed at how tight she was.

"EEEEEeeeee," Mom squealed as I got more length in her. "Slow, Griffey, slow!"

I worked the last inch or two of my cock in very slowly. The heat from her ass was astonishing. I just lay on her, drinking in the experience.

"You like me being in control, Mom?"

"Griffey, be gentle. It hurts."

"You like me being in control?"

"You're always in control when we're..."

"No, I try to make things mutual. But tonight you want me in control, right?"

"Griffey, isn't this helping turn you on? Because I'd like us to do this and finish quickly, OK?"

I answered her by scooping her around the rib cage, and in one motion, turn us upside down. My cock remained fixed in her ass, but now she was lying face up on top of me. I spread her legs. If I had only thought of it, I could have set up a camera and taken the dirtiest pictures in the history of porn.

This gave me great access to her body. I started to fuck her, but slowly. Meantime, I grabbed a tit with one hand, and reached my other hand down towards her pussy.

"Mom, you ever do a three way?"

"Griffey!"

"Have you?"

"Yes. Once or twice."

"You ever had a man in your ass and a cock in your pussy at the same time?"

"No. Not at the same time."

"Would you like that?"

"No."

"Have you ever thought about it?"

"I've thought about it. But I don't want it."

"If we had someone else here, he could just walk right in and slip inside you while I fuck your ass."

"Why are you saying these things?" Mom asked. But I could tell my talk was turning her on.

"Wouldn't that be a fantasy come true? A big cock in your pussy, and a big cock in your ass? Totally owned by two men?"

"Ahh. Ahh. Griffey! Aah! Some fantasies you don't want to come true."

By this time, I was rubbing her clit in broad strokes. She was so wet, her cunt juice was dripping down onto my cock, as I plunged more actively into her ass.

"Mom, are you going to come? Are you going to come for your son, while he's in your ass?"

She answered me by cumming. Her thighs quivered with the intensity. I kept the intensity up by grabbing her hips and pulling her up and down on my pistoning cock. A moment later, I poked myself in as deeply as possible, and came in the intoxicating darkness of her ass.

Mom leaned her head back, and gave me a kiss.

"That was amazing, Griffey. The best anal sex I've ever had. I've never come before that way. You're a heck of a lover, for someone so young."

I pulled out. "You too, mom."

"If it's always going to be so good, son, I might not mind doing that again."

"Count on it."

We fell asleep naked on her bed. I woke up early, with a big smile on my face. What we had done came back to, and I felt great. I looked over at Mom, and licked a breast that was heaving in her sleep. My morning piss hardon made itself known to me. I checked the alarm clock, and calculated there was enough time. I slathered on more Vaseline, rolled Mom onto her side, and inserted myself into her vagina. It wasn't as tight as her ass, but then, it was plenty tight anyway. And there was something amazing about the idea of me filling up the canal that was used to create and birth me.

Mom woke up a minute later. "Griffey, what are you doing?"

"I think you know."

"I have to get to work."

"If you have to get to work, then get to work, Mom." My insinuation was that she needed to work in bed in order to get to herself ready for the commute.

"OK, big boy." Mom disencunted me and rolled me on my back. Then she straddled me and started bouncing up and down. As she did so, she reached behind her with one hand, and got my balls, which she grasped tightly.

"Are you going to shoot in Mommy's vagina?"

"Say 'cunt,' Mom," I replied.

"Are you going to shoot in Mommy's cunt?"

The force of her squeezing practically had me seeing stars. I thrust up, sending her breasts whizzing toward her ears, and continued with a ratatat of sperm into her cervix.

As we calmed down, I said, "Does that answer your question?"

"It sure does."

Chapter 11

Mom had basically stopped crying. That phase for her was over. But I noticed I still felt in the same phase as I had always been. I remained angry. Coming to that realization definitely surprised me. I was getting as much sex as I wanted. Possibly more. And things were going good at work. OK, my boss treated me rough, and I felt bad every time I saw Drieka. I think the thing that made me maddest was still mom. I didn't know what the hell our relationship now was. It wasn't mother-son in any typical way, though I guess it never really had been. She was the mom who had never grown up and I was the son who was never a child. We were sex partners, and I was learning about her as a person. Not all good stuff, but stuff that helped explain why she was such a mess. In writing this down, I have a sense of calm, but I think pretty much every time we screwed, I was still angry. Not as angry as the day I first raped her, but still, every time I licked her nipple, there was part of me that wanted to bite it, hard. I had to restrain myself. Every time I thrust into her, part me of was saying, "take that, bitch." And I suspect she knew that, though we didn't talk about it.

The next night, we had some vanilla sex. It felt a little strange. We just went to her room. We got naked. She lay down and splayed her legs. I got above her, put my cock in my mom's cunt, and we fucked. Almost no biggie, except for the no biggie-ness. Afterwards, I felt chatty, which also seemed strange.

"Mom, how old were you when you first had sex?"

"When I lost my virginity?"

"Yeah."

"I was 15."

"Who was the guy?"

"A boyfriend."

"Not someone special?"

"I thought I was in love. But we broke up soon after."

"Was it because of the sex?"

"That probably played a role."

"Because he wanted more?"

"Actually, I think he freaked out that I said yes. Turned out he was a jerk, and told a lot of people. So I had the reputation as a slut in high school."

"But it wasn't true?"

"Actually, I don't know if you want to hear this."

"I do."

"Well, once I had the reputation, I didn't mind it. I did sleep with a number of guys in high school."

"More than 10?"

"You're asking too many questions."

"Sorry."

I was quiet for a while. But I wasn't feeling sleepy, and Mom wasn't sleeping either.

"Did you like sex back then?"

"I've always liked sex."

"What did you like about it?"

"I liked being desired. I don't know if you know it, but I was pretty hot back then. Back then, I weighed like 120 pounds, and had big breasts. So I stood out, if you know what I mean."

"How much do you weigh now?"

"You're asking too many questions, again."

"Or, I'm asking the wrong questions. How much do you weigh?"

"156." She took a little time to tell me, so I immediately guess she was shaving 10 pounds off, at least.

"Did your being sexy ever get you in trouble?"

"Oh, yes. Lots of times, actually. Story of my life, maybe. Especially if you include now, when you want to have sex with me every day."

"I wonder about that myself. Would I want to keep having sex with you if you were uglier, or less sexy? I don't know."

I don't think I've mentioned it, but Mom is no beauty. From her pictures, she used to be. But the extra weight really doesn't look good on her. And her being depressed means she rarely looks very vivacious or friendly or happy. She often looks kind of grim. Her arms are flabby, her thighs are dimpled, she has a big ass, she's got a bit of a double chin, and she rarely tends to her hair much. Still, she hasn't lost all of her attractiveness. She's got a womanly shape with a tucked in waist despite her extra weight. She's got good proportions. I think my desire for her comes much more out of my anger at her failing to take care of me, or even notice me that much. But once our relationship got physical, I really liked that element of it. And it felt like I was in bed with a real woman. That might not make much sense, especially as I don't have anything really to compare it too. But our having sex made me feel like a real man, and that must have made her a real woman.

"So can you tell me about a time when you being sexy got you in trouble?"

"Well, the worst time came when I was 11 or 12. I got my boobs early. I didn't really know what to do with them, they just came so fast. At the time, my mom was living with this guy."

Grandma had been married five times, and Mom didn't have a great relationship with her. We didn't see her that much while I was growing up, which seemed OK with Grandma. It suddenly struck me that maybe Mom got her narcissism from Grandma.

Mom kept on, "I think he was the guy she loved the most, of all her beaux. But he seemed to have a thing for me, especially for my breasts. He kept trying to brush up against me, or accidentally touch me, and he wanted to take photos of me in my nightgown or bathing suit. One day, Mom must have seen something, because she threw him out of the house. And then she cried for a whole year."

And suddenly, Mom was crying. I wasn't sure what to do. I rolled over and held her. It felt extremely strange. Here we were, a naked mother and son. She's crying, I'm comforting her, and even though we've just fucked, I've got another huge erection. I decide to ignore it, for the moment.

After a while, she stopped crying. "Why were you crying?" I asked.

"My mom was so sad, and it was my fault," she said, starting to cry again.

"How was it your fault?"

"I don't know. It just was. She really loved that guy."

"Did you like him?"

"I don't really remember. He was very handsome and charming. He bought me nicer presents than any of my other step-fathers. But he was also a real creep."

"Fooling around with his underage step-daughter, I should say so."

"He wasn't my dad, just my mom's boyfriend."

"Even so."

"My sexuality was a threat to my mom. I liked that, because my mom wasn't very nice to me. She was very strict with me, but very liberal with herself. And then because of my breasts, I lost the chance of maybe having my best step-father, or of having someone who could make my mom happy."

"I see. But it wasn't your fault."

"It feels like my fault anyway."

"I think you're blaming yourself for things you can't be responsible for. At age 11 or 12, what were you supposed to do?"

"I don't know! I still blame myself. If Mom had married him, things would have been so different. He had money, too. A good job. He ran a chain of movie theaters. We would have lived in a nicer house, and probably taken nicer vacations."

"How often do you think about this?"

"All the time."

"You're not being fair to yourself."

"Life isn't fair."

"True."

Mom started crying again, but this time, the tears were silent, as opposed to her sobbing before. Instinctively, I leaned over and kissed her on the lips.

Immediately, she kissed me back. This was strange, as we really had done very little kissing before, and certainly no romantic style kissing. This wasn't romantic either, really. It was tender, like we were starting to understand one another.

The light from the bathroom let me see her eyes were beautiful at the moment, puddling as they were.

"Griffey?"

"Yes mom?"

"Instead of you fucking me, would you make love to me, this once?"

"Sure, Mom." I rolled over on top, and we gently made love. It felt good too. Damned good. As I thrust deep into her, she thrust her tongue deep into my mouth. The oral game we played mirrored the game we played with our genital areas.

"Come for me, Griffey," she said, tightening her vaginal canal.

I didn't know I could perform on demand like that. But I came.

"Thank you, sweet heart."

"Sure thing, mom." I rolled over, perturbed, and fell asleep. I suddenly sensed how much our relationship had changed. We weren't mother-son so much as just lovers. That may have been what she wanted, but it wasn't what I wanted. In order to get the most out of our sex, I had to feel like we were breaking the rules. If we went the other way, soon she'd be wanting me to buy her flowers, and stuff like that. It was OK for her to tell me her emotions, and admit to her flaws. But then the sex had to be nasty to be good, not just feel-good sort of fucking.

Chapter 12

I admit it, sex was practically the only thing on my mind at the time. I was working hard at the job—often, putting in 10 and 11 hour days. And when I'd come back from work, there was always the taking care of mom and the household in non-sexual ways. It was me who cooked the meals. If I didn't cook, it could be cereal for dinner, or hot dogs out of the freezer. I did the laundry. I made sure Drieka did her homework. If Drieka needed money, I gave it to her. I had been the adult in the family since the age of 10, and that wasn't changing. Mom was going to her job and complaining less. She was making money and not lying down all day too depressed to go farther than the bathroom or the kitchen. Still, she never wanted to go anywhere, or suggested that she'd take over the normal parental jobs such as doing the laundry.

Usually, I minded that a lot. But not anymore. Now, I used this time for imagining what our next sexual act would be. I had hardons all the time. Normal for an 18-year-old, I know. But the great part was whatever I fantasized came true.

Mom was feeling better about her life. I could tell, even when her attempts at taking charge weren't remotely successful. Like that morning, at breakfast...

"Can you understand what I'm saying?"

"Sure."

"I was thinking it would make sense for us not to have as much sex."

"Actually, I was thinking the opposite. We've got a three-day weekend coming up. Drieka's friends are taking her to their beach house, and I was thinking we should devote our freedom to having a lot of sex."

"Griffey," she pleaded.

"Here's the way you could think about it. Maybe this will help you come to want it more."

"I don't want to want it more."

"Or maybe it will convince me it's a mistake."

"Do you really think so?"

"Not really. But who knows?"

"How much sex were you thinking?"

"Rather than put a number on it, I was just hoping to see how much is actually possible. One day last year, I tried this with masturbating, and I was able to masturbate ten times in one day. I'm curious to see if it's possible to have sex with you ten times in a day. Or even over two days."

"Griffey! You can't be serious!"

"Sure, why not? What was the most times you've had sex in a day?"

"I don't want to tell you."

"How about masturbating? What was the most you've done?"

"I can't tell you that."

"You can't talk about sex with me?"

"No. Not right now."

"Well, brace yourself. We're in for a long weekend."

She blinked at me, and removed herself from my hug. "I've got to get to work."

"I'll be thinking about you."

Mom gave me another look. Then she gave me a quick kiss on the lips. It wasn't love, it was submission. The first time she had initiated that type of contact, and it surprised me a bit. Also made me feel good. She left the room, and I started thinking of what this weekend would bring.

Later that day, Mom approached me and said, "Are you sure you still want to do...what you were talking about?"

"You mean have sex with you ten times?"

"Yes."

"Absolutely sure. You can't believe how much I'm looking forward to it."

"Oh."

"Is there a problem?"

"Yes. Part of me hates the idea. It revolts me, and I can't believe I'd even consider it."

"And?"

"And another part thinks I should do it. I remember back to my honeymoon. I was so looking forward to fucking the ears off your father. And then, pfft. We went to Miami for a week, had a beautiful hotel right on the beach, and we had sex a grand total of three times. I thought I might set a personal record that week, but forget about it. So there's a part of me that thinks, I should let you have your good time, and maybe I'll have a good time and set my own record as well."

"You know which side I'm going to vote for, right?"

"Yeah, I know about you."

"I'll make you a deal, mom. Go along with me on this, and I'll make sure you have at least as many orgasms as me."

"Now, honey, that's not the sort of deal I care about."

"Is there a deal you like better?"

"Two things. First, you have to promise to respect me at the end. Treat me like a woman and not a whore. Tell me that you love me, at least once or twice. If something goes wrong, it's your fault, not mine."

"I can agree to that."

"Two. Since you'll be having 10 days' worth of sex in one day, we skip sex together for the following 10 days."

"OK. That seems fair."

"Plus, I think we shouldn't have sex for four days leading up, so you can save up enough...potency, if you know what I mean."

I hadn't thought about that. So she'd be getting a good deal. One day of a lot of sex, bookended by none. Eh, it was worth it.

"Good negotiating, mom. I agree. Except if we're not having sex for 10 days, the four days before mean just no sex for six days after."

"All right. But when I mean no sex, I mean no sex. No nudity, no touching, no dirty comments. We go back to being regular mom and son."

Now she was beginning to piss me off.

"Fine."

"Then I've got it worked out. If you want 10 times in one day, you can have vaginal intercourse with me three times, oral twice, and I'll give you five handjobs."

"You really worked that out."

"Yes. I'm an old lady. I can't have you wearing me out too much. But I think I can do that."

"Nice, mom. But I have it thought out a little differently. Besides this little blue pill (and I showed her the Cialis I had already gotten), I have these two brown pills. They're yohimbine, and supposedly they make men come faster. So assuming they actually work, I think we could have four vaginal fucks, one anal, one oral fuck, two 69s, and two handjobs."

I looked at her straight in the eyes, waiting for her reaction.

"Griffey! I really think..."

"And I was also thinking we'd do it in every room of the house. Once in the living room, once in the kitchen, once in my bedroom. But not in the garage or in my sister's room. Maybe once outdoors. And once in the bathroom, in the shower."

"You've got this all planned out?"

"I'll tell you what, mom. Let's not plan it out too much. We'll take it as it comes."

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely."

Later, I called Grandma. I don't think I had ever called her before, except maybe to thank her for a birthday present. And we usually only saw her around Christmas. So she was more than a little surprised when she picked up the phone.