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Turn About Is Fair Play
Part-1-of-4
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Patty ran the hot water in the kitchen sink full steam. She stared down at the black Bakelite ashtray at the cloudy grayish white puddle that it contained. Furtively, she dipped her fingertip into it, raised it to her lips and tasted its creamy bitterness.
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"What the fuck did I just do?" Patty thought to herself as she began to quietly panic. Perplexing thoughts raced around inside her head about how she may have just destroyed her whole existence. The internal browbeating that she was receiving at the hands of her skyrocketing pulse and shallow breath made her think about every permutation of the consequences of her actions.
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It had been a bright, crisp September day. Mike had been awake for a half an hour when he finally decided to get up and out of bed. The sound of Patty's station wagon pulling out of the driveway gave him the incentive to quickly indulge in one of his favorite past times while his mother went to pick up the groceries, as she did every Wednesday morning.
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Mike had discovered years ago that his father had taken some very lurid Polaroid’s of Patty, which they kept hidden in a shoebox in the closet of their master bedroom. In fact, not only were these pictures the only pornography in the house, they were the only pornography to be found in this sleepy New Haven suburb. Mike's favorite past time was masturbation, as you'd expect from any guy in his early twenties. Sometimes ... well, most of the time ... his imagination wasn't quite enough to get the job done, so he’d sneak into his parents bedroom, retrieve the Polaroid’s from the shoe box and go to work on himself before anyone was any the wiser.
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As he usually did when he had evening classes at the local community college, Mike went down to the den and laid the Polaroid’s out on the coffee table. The pictures ranged from the racy to the downright filthy; after all, they were meant for private consumption. There was one of Patty teasing away in her negligee. There was another of Patty completely nude, and completely shaved, as she exited the shower. One picture showed a cock between her fleshy breasts. One was a fully on picture of Patty with a cock in her mouth, her cheekbones protruding as she vacuumed it up. The last showed Patty with her mouth agape, cum coating her tongue, lips and cheeks.
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To Mike, it was just available porn to jerk off to, he never really dwelled upon the fact that the pictures were of his mother, it just didn't phase him. He had just pulled down his pants and began stroking his cock. He never heard the keys jingle. He never heard the kitchen door open.
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Patty entered the kitchen, pissed off because her arms were full of groceries and no one ever thought to help her in, or ... dare she think it ... help her put them away. She put both bags of groceries and her keys on the counter and headed to the den so that she could turn on the television and listen to Ryan's Hope while she put the groceries away.
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The moment that the kitchen door swung open, both Mike and Patty's worlds changed forever in the blink of an eye. It happened so fast, and yet, for Patty, that split second seemed to slowly grind to a halt.
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"Oh shit," Mike screamed, his face reddening as he struggled with his pants.
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Reflexively, Patty retreated to the kitchen. But the moment that the door swung shut behind her she realized that something was askew. In her growing anger and indignation, she quickly got over the trauma of having walked in on her son while he was masturbating.
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"That little shit!" she thought to herself, "did he just steal my pictures? Has my own son, who I loved and raised, just tarnished my most intimate moments?"
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Patty came barreling through the kitchen door like a enraged bull just released from the chute.
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"You bastard! You little piece of shit!" Patty screamed at her son, feeling violated and the angriest she had ever been in her 43-years.
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"Mo..." Mike tried to explain.
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"Don't you fucking 'Mom' me, you little pervert!" Patty almost screamed. "I have no idea which is worse, the fact that you rummaged through my most private things and stole them, or the fact that you're pleasuring yourself to pictures of your own mother."
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"But I," Mike tried to eek out but was interrupted once again by Patty.
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"Don't say another word ... just don't," Patty snarled as she paced the room like a cornered mountain lion.
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A myriad of emotions and thoughts raced through her head, but the one that she focused on the most was the injustice of it all. She’d been violated, and her own son was responsible. How do you remedy such an injustice? How do you make it right? How do you make him see how much embarrassment he caused her? And then it dawned on her.
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"Do you think that what you’ve done is fair?" Patty asked.
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Mike knew that it was a loaded question and that he was in for a rough time of it.
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"Fair?" Mike replied meekly.
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"Yes, fair. You're the one who’s been violating my privacy for who the hell knows how long. Do you think it's fair?" Patty repeat.
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"Uh ... I ... No," Mike stuttered. Before Mike could figure out what was going on around him, Patty had already removed her blouse and was in the process of removing her bra.
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"Mom, what the hell are you doing?" wailed Mike in panic as he attempted to shield his eyes.
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"What's fair is fair," Patty stated calmly. "You're such a big man when you're sneaking around, huh? Well, here I am, the real thing, in the flesh. From now on, if you want to jerk off while looking at your mother, then you're going to ask me nicely and you're going to do it in person so that I know that you're doing it."
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"But Mom, thi ...," Mike shyly attempted to say.
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"But Mom, what?" Patty snarled. "But Mom, this is embarrassing? You bet your little ass it is, you pervert. How embarrassed do you think I feel? How embarrassed am I knowing that my son, whom I trusted, has been pleasuring himself while looking at me in pictures like these?"
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Patty removed her bra, her skirt and then slipped out of her panties.
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"Now your going to find out what it feels like. Get out of those clothes," Patty commanded.
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A confused look swept over Mike's face.
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"I'm not speaking Chinese, am I?" Patty sarcastically queried. "Now I'm going to watch. You're going to look at me in the flesh, and I'm going to watch you in your most intimate moment. How do you like that?"
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Mike's face flushed red as he reluctantly began to undress in front of his mother. Soon, all of Mike's clothes were on the floor. Mike sat on the couch, behind the coffee table and Patty sat on a chair opposite him. Mike fumbled around at first as he slowly started to masturbate. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get hard.
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"Not such a big man now are you, son?" Patty smirked. "I thought you enjoyed this. I thought it made you cum?"
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Mike's eyes rolled upward. He gazed at the ceiling, choking back tears. Patty assumed that he was trying to visualize something to make himself hard.
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"Penny for your thoughts, Mike,” she said. “Are you thinking about me with my lips wrapped around your cock? Are you thinking about me with cum all over my face, Mike? What's the matter, Mike,“ Patty chided, “can't you handle a real live woman?"
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As she watched, Patty felt herself getting wetter and wetter. At first her fingers had traced the outside of her lips, but now she was fully massaging her clit. Mike, on the other hand was involuntarily getting hard as he tried very hard not to look at Patty directly.
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"That's more like it, Mike," Patty goaded. "Now you're giving me something to watch. Now you're giving me something to cum to. I'm a real person, with real feelings, Mike. I masturbate too. I cum too, but I don't violate people's privacy to do it, Mike."
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Turn About is Fair Play
Part-2-of-4
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The den filled with tension and the sound of wet sloppy smacking noises as Mike's pre-cum began to lubricate the shaft of his cock.
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"Don't you dare get one drop of cum on the couch or the rug. If you do, you're cleaning it up and you're going to explain the stains to your father," Patty commanded. She raised her foot to the ashtray that always stood at the corner of the coffee table and slid it over to Mike with her big toe.
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"If you're going to cum, cum in this," she commanded again.
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Mike's knew it wouldn't be long. All of the nerves in his cock were tingling. Pretty soon the tingling sensation spread to Mike's balls and his whole groin. He was going to cum in front of his mother and there was nothing he could do about it. He quickly raised the ashtray to the tip of his cock and released himself into it, slumping back on the couch when he finished.
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Seeing the jets of cum spurting from Mike's cock, Patty cummed as well, the waves of orgasm pulsing over her body from head to toe. Her head hinged back, her lips parted and she let out a silent moan.
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"Now, young man, march yourself upstairs and think about what you've done. Leave the ashtray here, I'll take care of it," Patty panted.
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As Mike went up the stairs, Patty picked up the black Bakelite ashtray and took it into the kitchen. She dipped her pinky into the pooling puddle of her son's cum realized that it was still warm. Steam filled the air as Patty ran the hot water in the kitchen sink. Looking down at the black Bakelite ashtray, she stared at the cloudy grayish white liquid that it contained. Without thinking, she dipped her fore-fingertip into the gooey mess, raised it to her lips and tasted its creamy bitterness.
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"How do you undo what has been done," Patty thought to herself. The sexual taboo between mother and son has been broken. As Patty wondered what was to come next, she knew that this was not the last time she'd taste her son's flavor.
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The remainder of that cool September day passed in virtual silence.
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After the events of the morning, Mike spent a couple of solemn hours in his room. His casement windows cranked ajar, the crisp autumn air lightly scented with sweet-leafy decay filled his lungs. Mike's reeling mind was a myriad of a thousand thoughts and no thoughts at all, trying to make sense out of what had just happened.
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Downstairs, Patty was in the grips of a remorseful euphoria. Her body propelled by adrenaline, she placed the now spotless Bakelite ashtray on the coffee table. Then returned to the kitchen and sorted the wilting groceries, making sure that they found their rightful place in the avocado colored fridge. Her frantic mind over flowed with questions of lasting effects and potential scenarios. Whether her envisioned inventions were prophecy or paranoia, she could not tell.
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At 4:30, Mike came downstairs to leave for his Wednesday evening European History class at Mountain View College. So many questions raced through his consciousness that he wanted to stay home, but when he glanced into the den and saw that his mother was nowhere to be found, he was relieved. As his chest loosened with relief, Mike opened the front door, strode down the blacktop driveway to the white Chevy Laguna with the chocolate vinyl roof. Tossing his books on the front passenger seat, he turned the key and took off.
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When Mike's father returned home from work at a quarter to six, Patty had his dinner ready and waiting. Throughout dinner, she kept wondering if some telltale sign would give her away, if the mark of Cain or the Scarlet Letter either one were emblazoned on her forehead. But by the time that the last morsel of rice pilaf was lifted from plate to mouth, nothing had given her secret away. She couldn’t help smiling to herself with relief.
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The sleepy gold and rust colored suburban hamlet was as silent as Rest Land Cemetery when the Chevy Laguna slowly rolled to a halt, the red taillights extinguished, making the night as black as the driveway. When Mike entered the house, the only illumination was the frosty azure glow of the television radiating from the den where his mother and father sat on the couch watching Quincy, ME. For a brief moment, his eyes locked with Patty's. But he strode up the stairs to his room, aware of the futility of the moment.
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Thursday was new.
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Mike's father dressed in the cobalt glow of the newborn day, unknowing and happy. Patty stirred beneath the covers, and did not emerge from her chamber until the salmon gold rays of the new sun roused her to consciousness. Clad in chenille robe, Patty plodded down the stairs, crossed through the den and entered the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. When the doors swung open, she noticed Mike drinking orange juice over the sink, wearing nothing but his boxers.
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"You're up early," Patty croaked, her first words of the day.
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"Oh, hi!" Mike spun around, startled.
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"Look, Mike, about yesterday..."
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"No, no ... it's OK. You were right. I was wrong to take your property without permission ... you were ..."
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"I know you're sorry. I know it won't happen again."
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Patty reached out and gently cupped his cheek with her palm. She flipped on the Mr. Coffee and in a couple of minutes poured 2-cups. Then as they sat silently at the kitchen table, Patty gazed at her reflection in the depth of her cup and smirked.
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"I was pretty angry yesterday."
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"Yeah." Mike chuckled.
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"But I want you to know that I'm not angry anymore. But Mike, I want you to be honest with me ... I know that we crossed a line yesterday ... How do you feel about ... what happened?"
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Mike looked down at his coffee cup, not quite sure of what to say. "Well, I don't know," Mike chuckled. "At first I was embarrassed, then I just felt ‘kinda-wierded’ out, you know?"
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"Yes," Patty grinned. "I know exactly what you mean. And I also know that it might be hard for you, living here with us. Men need something to get the blood flowing, so to speak. That's why your father took those pictures in the first place. So, I understand why you were using them ... like you did."
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After an awkward pause, Patty continued. "Mike, I also don't want you to feel inhibited ... I don't want to feel inhibited ... do you follow, Mike?"
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"I'm not sure..."
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"No hang-ups ... you can masturbate anywhere in the house you want, any time you want, as long as your father's not home."
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"Are you sure?"
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"No, I'm not sure. But I thought about it ... I thought about it a lot, and I just think it's more honest like that, more open."
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"I understand, I think."
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The rest of Thursday passed without incident.
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Friday
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Then Friday morning came and when Mike descended the stairs he sensed a funky sweet smell in the air, the aroma of feminine muskiness. He glanced over to the couch, and there was Patty.
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She was lying on the couch, with one shapely leg up on the back cushion and her other foot on the floor. Her head was back, her lips pursed, as she rubbed herself furiously with her right hand, only pausing intermittently to lick her fingers. Mike's first instinct was to turn away ... run before she could open her eyes and see him ... but then he remembered their conversation the day before. No hang-ups.
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When Mike walked into the den, Patty sensed his presence and opened her eyes.
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"Oh, hey ... you're up," she murmured dreamily as her son came into focus. "There's plenty of room on the couch and you can watch what you like on TV."
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Nervously he sat down on the last sofa cushion, his mother's foot only about 2-inches from his head. Television be damned, he couldn't take his gaze away from his mother's self-pleasure. Then he noticed something that he hadn't noticed when he first came down the stairs, a cucumber half swallowed by his mother's pussy.
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Mike was transfixed by the whole affair. After noting that the dark green cucumber was thick and bumpy, he focused on how the silky flesh of her lips enveloped it. Her face and breasts were sweaty scarlet.
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"As long as you're sitting there," Patty murmured breathlessly, "can you help me a little?"
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"Help?" Mike mumbled, confused.
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"Yessssss ... take the cucumber and slide it in and out."
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"I ... I don ... "
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"Pleeeeease, Mike! Pleeeeease," Patty implored.
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Turn About is Fair Play
Part-3-of-4
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Even more nervous, Mike got up from the couch and positioned himself so that he could grip the exposed end of the cucumber. She was so wet that it slid in and out with ease, and within a few seconds he could feel the slight tightening of her body and her pussy. Then Patty let out a loud scream as her pussy started to spasming so hard that he could feel it clenching down on the cucumber almost as if trying to pull it in deeper. Her eyes rolled back as her trembled through her orgasm.
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Breathless, she placed her hand on his, as a signal to stop moving the cucumber. She lay there drenched in sweat, panting.
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"Wow," Mike almost whispered.
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" Yes, it feels really good to be filled up like that. Thank you for helping me out,” smiled Patty as she removed the cucumber and let it drop to the floor.
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Mike had never seen a woman masturbate like that before, and the experience hit his subconscious like a ton of bricks. When he removed his boxers and his hard cock slapped against his mother's bare thigh, she chuckled.
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As his mom watched, Mike sat down on the couch, leaned back, and began to slowly stroke himself up and down. Patty now sat erect.
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"Honey, if you keep doing that with no lubrication, you're going to rub the skin right off of it. Hold on, I'll be back in a second." Before he could answer, Patty sprung up from the couch and ran out of the den. Moments later she returned with a jar of hand cream. Placing the jar on the coffee table, sat down next to him. Then she took a big blob of hand cream in her palm.
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"OK, Honey. Take your hands away for a sec..."
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"Bu ..."
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"Shhhhh!" Patty hissed. "Just let it feel good."
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First, Patty took Mike's erect cock in her hands and smeared it with the soothing cream. Then she pressed her left hand flat against his chest and began stroking him very slowly and lightly with her right.
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As she stroked him, Mike's cock grew in size and hardness. His masculine scent inspired Patty to quicken her pace and increase her grip in slight increments. She could feel him breathe, each breath becoming shallow. As his head lolled back against the couch, she could feel his balls tightening with her pinky. Then his body tensed and warm spurts of her son's cum coated her hand, mixing with the lathered hand cream. As his tremors subsided Mike took deep breaths.
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"Thank you," Mike whispered.
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In a panic, Patty raced to the bathroom, leaving Mike breathless on the couch. As she adjusted the knobs, mixing the hot and cold waters to a stream that was just warmer than tepid, she peered at herself in the mirror. "What have I done?" she thought to herself yet again. Her heart became tightened at the nagging ache of doubt and fear. She despised herself for opening up what could be a floodgate resentment and shame. She felt small in the little room, whose silence broken by the hissing of the running water. She felt small, but only for a brief second because she remembered that Mike had thanked her for bringing him to orgasm. Maybe there was hope after all, she thought as she washed the pearly slick mixture of lathered hand cream and cum off of her hands.
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Looking in the mirror, Patty noticed a glossy-slick wet spot on the side of her neck. She was surprised that she hadn't felt it land on her despite her focus on Mike's pleasure. She was delighted. She swiped the pad of her index finger through the viscous liquid, and brought it swiftly to her mouth, savoring her son's flavor as she suck and licked it off of her finger. Mike's cum was like Alice In Wonderland’s cake, making her feel so tall that her head would hit the ceiling. A flush of warmth embraced her, and she was no longer afraid.
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When Patty emerged from the bathroom, Mike was fully dressed and sporting his backpack. He hugged her, gave her a peck on the cheek and thanked her again. Then he was off to study with his friends at the library on the campus of Mountain View College. And Patty listened to the Laguna rumble off into the distance.
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The remainder of that Friday went by without incident. Patty and Mike's father had pork chops and mashed potatoes for dinner but Mike caught a burger and fries out with his friends.
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Saturday.
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Mike showered before his date with Linda. He’d spent the better part of day adjusting the throttle valve cable on the Laguna.
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Even on a brisk autumnal morning Mike's father was hard at work, conducting business between the eleventh green and the twelfth tee. He came home after sunset, and Patty in the kitchen. She could smell the Beefeater cologne exuding through the pores of the slowly loosening skin of his stubble-covered cheek when he hugged her. Hard cock through gabardine dug into her belly and she knew that he'd have her.
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Mike's father brought the same no nonsense force to the bedroom that he did to his business. Patty lay across the bed, her ass half-hanging off the edge. Her ankles rested on Mike's father's hunched shoulders as he gripped her calves. The rhythmic clapping of naked flesh reverberated through the room, mingling with masculine sweaty grunts, for the better part of an hour. Patty's body jiggled with each thrust, her hair fanned out over the bedspread. Though she felt Mike's father's hard cock plunging in and out of her body, her mind began to drift.
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Patty began to wonder about Mike's date with Linda. She could picture them, making out in the backseat of his Laguna. She pictured Mike flicking his tongue over Linda's pink nipples, feeling and caressing her taut body with his soft hands.
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As Patty began to identify with Linda, her imagination took on Linda's point of view, until finally she and Linda became one. She could feel Mike's tongue. She could feel Linda's pleasure building, her desire driving her half mad. She let out a soft moan that goaded Mike's father to plunge into her even harder and faster.
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Patty/Linda unbuttoned Mike's jeans and slid them down to his ankles, so that he was bare from the waist down on the backseat of the Chevy. She gently held Mike's nipple between her teeth, and then slowly kissed her way down his body to his lap. She sucked the inside of each of his thighs, and then ran the tip of her tongue up the underside of his stiffened cock.
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The head of Mike's cock was like a salty-sweet cherry lollipop. She took it between her lips and swirled her tongue around it. Patty wanted her son's cock. She wanted to taste it. She wanted to taste his balls.
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Mike's father's thrusts became erratic, and Patty was catapulted back to reality. He emitted a grunt and a roar as Patty felt the warm flow of her husband's spurting cum filling and coating the inside of her worn hot pussy. The slick fluid conducted enough stimulation to send her over the edge, and she felt a brief flush of ecstasy.
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Silently and swiftly, Mike's father strode around to the other side of the bed, lay down, and spread his legs apart. Pulling herself further up onto the bed, Patty crawled over to her husband's side. After giving his beefy body a couple of pre-sexual kisses, she then started licking up their combined juices. Tasting the sticky smooth tartness as she scrubbed his cock and balls clean with her tongue.
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Mike and Linda sat on the loveseat, awash in the azure glow of the black and white Zenith in the basement rec room of her parent's Willard Avenue Cape Cod. They barely noticed that Midnight Special had ended, and Night Gallery was playing on the late show. Linda's mother had long since gone to bed and the silence was broken only by the sound of Roddy McDowell being tormented by ever changing paintings.
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Mike nibbled and sucked on Linda's neck as she cooed and sighed. Working his hands up under her blouse, he enveloped the rigid satin cup of her bra with the palm of his hand. She in turn had her hand on the inside of Mike's thigh, with her fingers intermittently making contact with the swelling cock and balls encased in his tight jeans.
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Opening up his jeans and slid them to his ankles, Mike proudly revealed his hardened flesh.
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"I'm sorry, Mike. I can't tonight", Linda murmured.
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"Can't?"
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"No, I can't."
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"Why ... uh ...?", Mike stammered.
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"I have my monthly friend."
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"Oh", Mike said dejectedly.
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"Well, it's not fair for me either," Linda whined. "I wanted you to fuck me."
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"Oh. Far out."
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"I can still make you feel good," Linda sheepishly proposed. She gripped Mike's hard dick and started to stroke it.
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Mike tried to get into it, but Linda's unskilled hand yanked and squeezed his stiff meat in spasmodic jerks. Thinking about the smooth-gliding rhythm of his mother's hand and how she made him cum so easily and skillfully, Mike chuckled at the comparison.
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"What's so funny?" Linda demanded.
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"Nothing, I just get a little ticklish."
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"Silly," Linda cooed. Then she noticed Mike's that he was limp. "You've gone soft," she whined.
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"There are other ways to make it hard again," Mike grinned.
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Linda's eyes flashed with the intensity of the electrical emissions of an approaching thunderhead. "Mike, we've talked about this before. I am absolutely not going to put your cock in my mouth. That is disgusting. I've told you that before."
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"I know we’ve..."
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"Then why are you even asking? Obviously you don't respect me."
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"Of course I do, but..."
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"Then why ask?"
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"I thought..."
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"If that's what you want from women, Mike then go find some whore to do it, but don't come back to me afterward." Then Linda shot up to her feet and headed for the stairs. "I'm going to bed. I have to be up early for church. If you want to apologize, you can call me. You know the way out." And then she was gone.
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Dejectedly, Mike pulled up his pants, tucked in his flaccid cock, and headed for his Laguna and home.
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Sunday came and went with no change in the situation.
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Monday.
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Mike awoke to a staring match with his alarm clock, and 10am won.
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Turn About Is Fair Play
Part-4-of-4
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When he padded downstairs to the kitchen, Patty was seated at the table sipping her earl gray.
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"Morning."
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"Morning."
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Patty waited for a little while, until Mike filled his glass with orange juice and then sat down across from her. She didn't quite know what to say so her apprehension to talk hung over the table like a dark cloud.
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"So, how did your date with Linda on Saturday go?"
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Mike sullenly looked down at his juice. "Not so hot."
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"I'm sorry to hear that."
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"Yeah, well… you can’t win um all."
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Both mother and son stared at their beverages during the awkward pause that seemed to last for hours, but in reality was only one or 2-minutes.
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"I heard you come in on Saturday night. Would you like to talk about it?"
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"Linda..." Mike started but couldn't figure out what to say next. He knew that he and Patty had a new era of openness, but the fact that he struck out with his own girlfriend was too embarrassing to even admit to himself, much less his mother.
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"Yes?"
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"Well, let's just say that I asked Linda to do something for me and she got very upset."
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"Oh. May I ask what it was that you wanted her to do?"
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Mike's face turned a pinkish shade of crimson, a dead give away that the problem was sexual. Taking another sip of her tea, Patty tried to approach the issue as delicately as she could as Mike's mother. "Was it something of a sexual nature?"
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"I wanted ... I wanted her to ... put my penis in her mouth and she freaked out."
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Patty almost audibly giggled but managed to hold it in, "She's that uptight over oral sex?"
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"Yeah. She thinks its disgusting."
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"Oh honey, it's not disgusting. Oral sex is wonderful. It lets you please your mate, while you really get to know their body."
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"I know. Paula used to suck me. I really liked it when she did that. But Linda won't have any part of it."
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"She really has some hang-ups, doesn't she?"
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"Yeah."
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A long pause settled into the conversation like a dome of high-pressure air. Patty and Mike each searched for the words to say next.
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"Mike, I know that ... I know that we've done some things ... but if we would do ... if we'd do something like that, you'd ... we'd ... have to be very, very sure that it's what we'd want to do. You can't put the genie back in the bottle on that one."
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"I know."
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"Please don't get me wrong, Mike. I love you and I really do enjoy helping you get off ... but this ... this would be..."
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"I know. I don't want you to do anything that would make you feel weird, or make you feel bad."
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"Thank you."
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Silently Mike gulped down the remainder of his orange juice and Patty finished her tea.
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"Mike?"
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"Yeah?"
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"If ... if you'd like me to help you cum, you can come over to my side of the table."
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Standing, Mike slowly removed his boxers and walked over to his mother's side of the table. She cleared away her cup and saucer, patting the table as an indication for him to sit there. Quickly he hoped up on the table and sat on the table in front of Patty. Pushing his legs apart, Patty filled the palm of her hand with her warm saliva and then reached for her son's cock. The moment she touched it with her fingertips, it began to twitch and harden. She felt it grow and warm in her hand as she slowly stroked it up and down.
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"Ummm, that feels so good. Linda had no idea how to do that," Mike whispered as he closed his eyes and lay back on the table.
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Flashes of Patty's imagined scenario from Saturday night danced in and out of her consciousness. Her own words about the genie and the bottle echoed in her head, but at the same time she became noticeably wet. She was face to balls with her son as her hand glided slowly up and down his shaft. As he writhed and moaned in ecstasy, Patty stood and gently held her son's balls in her other hand.
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"I'm getting close," moaned Mike dreamily, his eyes still closed.
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Patty's mind's eye was filled with visions of that delicious lollipop from Saturday night. Unthinkingly, she slid her hand down to the base of Mike's shaft, and stopped stroking.
Suddenly Mike felt a searing hot wetness envelope the head of his cock. Alarmed, he quickly opened his eyes and propped himself up on an elbow. The first thing he saw was Patty's moist lips stretched around the head of his cock. As their eyes met, Patty fluttered her tongue up and down the underside of his cock, concentrating on the spot right under the head. Eagerly she sucked him deeper into her mouth and began to slowly bob her mouth up and down on his shaft. Mike's balls began to tingle, and he could no longer hold back his orgasm in.
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Balls erupting, streams of Mike's hot gooey cum filled Patty's mouth. Its acidic metallic bitterness clung to the roof and walls of her mouth, and coated her tongue. Moaning, she momentarily reveled in her son's flavor.
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. …………
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Mike and Patty were cordial for the next couple of days, but kept an uneasy distance from each other; that is, until Patty walked into the den the following Friday and found Mike masturbating while watching reruns of Alice on CBS.
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At first they were both caught off-guard. Each stood their respective ground. Mike looked into his mother's eyes as he continued to masturbate.
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"I really shouldn’t..." she stammered, all the while her eyes transfixed by the motion of Mikes hand sliding up and down the shaft of his cock. As her pussy rapidly flooded, Patty sleepwalked over to the couch and sat beside Mike. his eyes never leaving hers, as she placed her hand over his and stopped his pumping motion. "Here, let me", she said softly. "Just watch TV. Don't look at me like that."
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She began jacking her son off, lightly, gently, but as time went on her strokes became more vigorous. By the time that the closing credits on Alice rolled up the screen, Mike's breathing was erratic, and Patty noticed his toes flexing and curling. She quickly grabbed the black bakelite ashtray from the coffee table and held it under the tip of his cock just as his whole body tensed and streams of gray milky cum spewed out. She licked clean his cum-covered tip and then sucked the rest out of him, so that he wouldn't drip on the couch.
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After Mike finished cumming, they had an open and frank discussion about what each of them liked, sexually. It was probably the most honest moment in their lives to that point. he and Patty agreed that, even though they were both conflicted, that they wouldn’t let their little escapades interfere with their relationships with other people. No open mouth kissing, or anything of that sort. And they were fine with that, at least on the surface.
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The next evening, Mike's father drove into New Haven to dine with a client.
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In the kitchen that evening, while preparing dinner, Patty began to hum the old familiar strain of Duke Ellington's Mood Indigo. She hadn't heard that song since she moved out of her parents' house when she married Mike's father, and she wondered why it popped into her mind now.
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After their quick fish stick dinner, Mike asked Patty found themselves in the den sitting on the couch watching television. Boldly Mike asked her for a blowjob. Hungrily, Patty enveloped the full length of Mike's hard cock in her mouth, the velvety feel of his super-hard shaft sliding between her lips made her wetter than she'd ever been. Patty’s head bobbing up and down in her son's lap, her slippery hot tongue snaking its way around his hard cock for nearly 10-minutes. Lustfully, he began to buck, mashing her nose into his pubic and against the flesh of his stomach. Her top lip pressed against his body, her bottom lip against his soft balls. Valiantly, she kept pace with him, sucking him. Mike's cock began to grow. It began to expand. Patty struggled to open her mouth wider and wider, until the wedge like pressure was so severe, she briefly wondered if she'd be split apart.
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Mike felt an urgent tingling in his balls that was spreading up his stomach to his chest. As his cock twitched and jerked wildly in Patty's mouth, he moaned, "Ummm, mom, I'm gonna cum."
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A lightning hot flash of anger overcame Patty. She swiftly lifted her mouth off of Mike's throbbing cock.
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"Don't you EVER say that! Don't you EVER call me 'mom' while I'm blowing you! It's rude, and it's completely inappropriate. When I'm giving you sexual pleasure, my name is 'Patty', not 'mom.' Do you understand me?"
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Startled, Mike nodded silently.
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Patty's was upset, but not so upset that her mouth didn’t returned to Mike's now softening cock. She licked it like an ice cream cone until Mike exploded in her mouth.
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Mike continued dating Linda and occasionally fucking her, but since his mother was now regularly sucking him off at home, he no longer pestered her for blowjobs. Due to natural progression, with in 6-months Mike was eating his mama pussy and with a year, fucking her brains out.
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The End…
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