Page 08
John pushed the covers down to mid-thigh, allowing his stimulated rod to spring up in eager expectation.
"Johnny, you haven't been touching it yourself, have you?" I said in an admonishing tone.
"No Mother, I haven't, honest," he lied.
"Well, then," I muttered, and closed my slick fingers around his shaft.
"Ohhhh Goddd," John cried.
"Quiet, or you'll wake your father," I snapped.
"Sorry Mother."
"Alright, just let me know if the light comes on in the hallway."
John looked past me to the dark hallway beyond his door. I had been careful to turn all the lights off. For the first time, the sound of distant snoring wafted into the room. Perfect, I thought, proud of my timing. You can find anything on the web, including soundtracks of snoring.
John's chest heaved in reaction to the exquisite sensations my lubricated fingers were imparting to his now slick cock. As my hand rose up to his tip I squeezed it over the head and slowly twisted. On the descent, I paused halfway down to allow my trailing thumb to brush sideways across the underside as my other hand massaged his balls. Despite my instructions to watch for the light, John closed his eyes. His whole body trembled under my ministrations. The only sound in the house was the faint recording of snoring emanating from my bedroom and the wet, gooey sound of my hand squeezing and stroking his cock.
John opened his eyes and raised his head.
"Mother?"
"Shhhhh."
"Mother, I'm going to... you said I should warn you."
"Oh dear. I forgot to bring a towel. Do you have a towel?" My hand didn't stop moving up and down his slick shaft.
John looked around, then reached across to the other side of the bed and retrieved his shirt.
"You're not going to ruin your shirt, for goodness sakes. This will have to do."
I leaned over John's cock and opened my mouth.
Though I couldn't see John's face, I could sense his shock. I continued pulling on his slick cock, keeping it steadily aimed at my open, hovering mouth. To help him along, I breathed over his tip and jacked him faster, only going halfway down his shaft before returning to squeeze his head. John's hips began humping up and down, bringing the tip of his cock dangerously close to my mouth.
The first squirt surprised me even though I was expecting it. John cried out and bucked his hips, thrusting his cock fully inside my wet, waiting mouth. He released a sound that was more of a wail than a grunt, dropping his ass to the bed for the briefest sojourn before ramming it back into my mouth. His body convulsed with each explosive squirt, again and again and again. Finally, he was spent and collapsed into the mattress, exhausted. I lifted my head, expecting him to have closed his eyes again but he was watching me with glazed eyes. I suspect he wanted to see if I had managed to take it all, hoping to see some of his seed marking my face. I was sorry to disappoint him. I made a note to think of that next time. Or maybe he was trying to see if his mother had returned to this earth.
****
The next day I wore John's mother's sexiest outfits and that night John was eagerly awaiting my arrival. As soon as I entered his room, he put his book down and pushed the covers down to his knees, exposing his erect cock.
"You weren't touching it by yourself, were you Johnny?"
"No Mother."
"Good boy."
The snoring recording started up, right on time. I reached over to open the drawer but saw the lubricant already lying on top of the bedside dresser. I smiled.
"I see we have an eager beaver tonight."
John nodded. His eyes lit up when I peeled my robe back and let it fall from my shoulders, revealing a very naughty nightgown that barely contained my breasts. I let him take his fill for a moment, then reached for the lubricant but before squirting it onto my palm, I paused.
"Would you like to do this tonight?"
John looked confused. Was I asking him to masturbate?
"Change places with me," I said, getting up. "Come on, get out of bed."
John did as he was told and I took his place, propping another pillow behind my back.
"Come on, get on," I said, patting my hands to the outside of my thighs.
John clambered over me. When he was in place, I said, "Well?"
John didn't know what to do but before he could speak, I leaned upward and said, "Push my nightgown back, Johnny. There's a good boy."
John tentatively put his hands on my shoulders but didn't do anything until I nodded permission. He slipped the nightgown down my arms and, when I smiled further approval, he dragged it completely off my breasts and pulled it over my hands. I picked up the lubricant and squirted a dollar-sized puddle onto each breast, just above my nipples, then handed it to him.
"Put some on yourself."
I closed my eyes but kept them open a slit so I could see him. John was unsure for a few seconds and then squirted some lubricant onto the tip of his cock, put some more into his right palm, then rubbed it up and down his shaft. After it was spread all over his cock, he stared at my breasts, then tentatively reached out to touch the puddle above my left nipple. I nodded silent approval and visibly relaxed into the pillows to demonstrate my assent. John began spreading the lubricant over my tits.
John played with my breasts for so long I had to grab his cock and pull it between them before he got the idea but half a dozen strokes later, he leaned over me and began rubbing his cock between my tits in long, slow thrusts. I squeezed my breasts together and John began fucking them in earnest. I waited until his breathing was quite ragged before tipping my head up to blow on his cock. He loved it and leaned harder into to me, trying to thrust his cock closer to my mouth. After teasing him for a while by pulling my mouth away, I tipped my head forward to reward him, taking the head into my mouth on every stroke.
I doubt he managed another ten thrusts before he started coming. The way he gasped for air, I don't think he would have survived if he hadn't come. Some of his spend was deposited in my mouth but most of it missed, some of it going past my head entirely. However, enough landed on my face to make him groan with pleasure and he leaned over my nose to squeeze the last drops from his cock. I kept my eyes 'closed' the entire time so he wouldn't be scared to do what he really wanted. After a moment, I spoke.
"Go to the bathroom and get a warm washcloth."
John started climbing off me.
"Warm, mind you."
"Yes Mother."
He was walking to the door.
"And don't wake your father."
"No Mother," he whispered.
John crept back into room. I don't think he was trying to not wake his 'father', I think he wanted to look at me for a few moments before I knew he was there. I pretended to be unaware of his presence so he could survey the damage he had done. Never in my married life had I ever let John do something like this and I was positive that if he thought it was 'me' he wouldn't have done it.
"Johnny?" I called, getting tired of the sticky mess on my face.
I heard him step quietly backward. "Right here, Mother," he answered, as if just coming in the door.
****
The next day, at breakfast, I launched my campaign in earnest.
"Johnny," I began. I had been wearing John's mother's clothes and calling him Johnny for weeks now and almost thought of him as my son. Given the intensity of our role playing, I'm sure he thought of me as his mother and definitely acted like it as soon as he walked in the door after work. I wondered how he managed to be himself during the day and worried that I might be contributing to the development of a fractured personality but it was necessary.
"John," I started again. "We're going to have a guest for a while."
"Who?" John asked.
"Gary."
I worried that would yank John out of his role as my son but I had decided the best approach was to deal with the issue head on. John wasn't so far gone that he didn't know we were only playing a game so he could realize his fantasies. I relied on the strength of his mind and the weakness of his soul to handle this new twist.
"But we're going to call him Allen and pretend he's not our son."
"Okay," John's tone was tentative and he looked unsure.
"You'll have to sleep with me for a while."
John looked less worried but still somewhat unsure.
"We can continue with..., well, with what we've been doing, but only in my room. Is that clear?"
John nodded.
"You understand? This is very important."
"Yes."
"That's good." I held out my arms. "Now come and give your Mother a hug."
I turned in my seat to face my husband as he came around the table. He let his hands rest on my shoulders as mine curled around his waist to embrace him. Releasing him a moment later, I slipped my hands around to his front and unzipped his pants. He was already getting hard. I opened my mouth and he pushed it in. Johnny's hands clasped my head and he began thrusting in and out.
I wondered if I was up to this. Could I balance the demands of my two men? Could I handle that much sex? John's legs weakened and he sagged against me, moaning his pleasure. Yes, I thought, I can, I definitely can.
Later that day, after my fateful phone call to the institution, I wondered about my husband's relationship with his mother. How far had they really gone? I was convinced that my mother-in-law had in fact paraded in front of John in sexy underclothes but had she actually masturbated him and sucked his cock? I couldn't tell from John's reaction if we were replaying old memories or simply acting out fantasies that didn't actually happen but which he had always wanted to.
The more I thought about it, the more I became convinced John and I were replaying things that had really happened. I needed to offer him the prospect of something that hadn't happened that he had wanted to in order to keep him motivated throughout the ordeal ahead, something I could hold out for 'good' behavior.
That night, when John came home, there was a bottle on the counter that he couldn't take his eyes off all through dinner despite the competing draw of my hair, freshly dyed the color of his mother's. The fact that I never acknowledged his distraction probably drew his attention to it all the more. While we were eating our dessert, I reminded John of the need to sleep in my bedroom, starting tonight, but kept the fantasy alive by explaining that while his father was away on his trip I was afraid to sleep alone. John's response surprised me.
"Yes, I understand, Joan. I know what's truly important. We both love and miss our son but you need him in a special way and you know now how well I understand that."
"Yes John, I do." John's words also made me come face to face with the fact that my behavior wasn't altogether altruistic.
"So, let's get on with it and get our son back."
"Okay John."
I noticed that John had barely touched his dessert whereas I had finished mine. I stood up.
"I'm going to go to bed early."
"I'll join you," John said, getting up. "I'd like to make love to the woman I love tonight, my wife."
I motioned for John to sit down. Don't get me wrong, I loved hearing that from my husband. What woman wouldn't? But I had something else in mind for tonight, the first taste of that added incentive to keep my husband focused on our ultimate goal, a pull far beyond words of commitment.
"Finish your dessert first, Johnny," I commanded in the most authoritative voice I could muster.
John plunked down, surprised by the sudden change in my voice and personality. Mimicking his mother's voice, something I could do perfectly, I added, "There's something special I want you to do for me tonight, Johnny. When you do come up, in a few minutes, can you bring that with you?"
I gave no indication of what I meant by that but John knew.
"Bring what?" he asked anyway.
"That," I snapped, and turned to walk away without glancing at the bottle of Mazola. I swayed my hips in an exaggerated fashion so my ass would capture his attention.
"Yes Mother," John croaked as I left the dining room and started up the stairs, ass swaying outrageously.
I didn't know John could finish a large piece of apple pie so quickly. Maybe he could when he was a kid and when he was 'Johnny' it wasn't a big deal to kill off a pie. Anyway, I had barely got changed into one of his mother's long nightgowns and stretched out on the bed with it pulled up onto my back and over my head, ass bare and inviting, when Johnny arrived.
I doubt Johnny dwelled on the new furnishings in the room but I'm sure he noticed them, adding to the elation of the moment. While he was at work, I had scoured the second hand and antique stores and Craigslist for a bedroom set and a sofa and chair to put in my room. The weren't perfect but, once re-ulphostered and reconditioned, they were a close match to the furniture in John's childhood pictures. I bet that even to his mind, and most assuredly to his hard cock, the bare ass on the bed looked just like his mother's, the one that had beckoned to him for years but he had been unable to attain. Until now.
I tugged the hem of the nightgown above my shoulders, covering my head but leaving enough dyed hair to show for effect. I wiggled my ass.
"Hurry," I whispered.
The whisper of clothes gave way to a rip, and stumble, and several gasps for breath before the mattress gave way to the weight of John's knees. I almost laughed out loud. I wasn't so much amused as unable to contain the rush of power that surged through me, to so easily render this competent man helpless in service of my whims. Yet, I braced myself, for I couldn't predict whether his approach would be tentative or savage.
Long seconds passed. I heard the twist of a cap being removed from a bottle. I waited for the rasp of hands rubbing together but winced instead as the cold liquid—I had kept it in the fridge until John came home—spashed in several drips on my right cheek, skipped over to my left, and then dribbled along my crack from top to bottom.
Johnny released a long sigh which in words would have said, "Awesome!"
Hands curved around my cheeks, spreading the oily mess all over my ass. They swirled and pressed, enfolded and crushed, and caressed, never harsh, always devoted. A coveted treasure was being honored and prepared for consumption, savored, because the first taste is always the best. I understood now how powerful was John's need for his mother and, perhaps for the first time, how much Gary needed me. I was humbled.
The glow began spreading faintly through my pelvis even before the first rub of Johnny's thumbs through my crack. It intensified with the first probe of his right hand thumb which so easily slipped inside. Mazola, the new wonder food.
I could have said I moaned to heighten Johhny's desire but it would be a lie; I liked what he was doing; I needed it.
He had paused after the first probe to drip more Mazola on my ass. I knew Mazola was the wrong thing to use but it fit the time period and just once shouldn't hurt; at least, so I reasoned. Now, the slippery, viscous feel of it excited me so much I couldn't help but whimper my appreciation. John was so good at this. How could it be his first time?
Jesus. He was sliding first one, and then the other, thumb into my ass, twisting on exit. Squeezing my cheeks, probing, reaming, pushing my ass forward, forcing me to lift my hips off the bed, presenting myself, lewd, desparate and wanton. I want it!
Oh my God! Two thumbs at once, fully inserted, wiggling, spreading as they withdrew, fingers bunching my cheeks, squeezing gently, then more urgently. Johnny was gasping and moaning. I wasn't sure it he couldn't help it or if he was trying to wind me up even more. Whatever, it worked. I pushed my ass up higher, silently begging to take his cock. I moaned.
"Now," I croaked.
I felt his knees drawing closer. He was coming. He was going to take me, going to take his mother.
How could it feel bigger than his two thumbs? I sucked in my breath. He was smaller than Gary but still filled me. Please, be careful. He was. Pressure, pressure. Oh God, such wonderful pressure. No, don't stop, keep pushing. That's it. He understood, he was just shifting his legs for a better angle. Ahhh, Gawd, yes.
Plop.
He was in. It wasn't a sound, just a feeling. The head was in. Rubbing, scraping his shaft through the ring, so long but I knew he was shorter than Gary.
"Oh Johnny, that's so good, so nice," I moaned.
His legs were pushing against my ass. He was all the way in. He paused, then began swirling around, gently, fully plugged in, his cock reaming my hole. The tide of pleasure spilled out of my pelvis, cascaded through my chest, filling my tits and running into my head. I drooled onto the pillow.
"Fuck it," I gasped.
Johhny kept swirling his cock and reaming my hole, no slower and no faster. His cock didn't withdraw. He kept his firmly plugged into my ass despite my plea.
"Fuck it," I moaned.
Still no compliance. No withdrawal and forward thrust. This was his dream; it was going to go his way.
I don't know how much later—I measured the passage of time in waves of pleasure emanating from my anal cavity—but finally Johnny began fucking my ass properly, withdrawing and pushing forward, puling out and shoving in, with long, steady thrusts, never hard, always teasing.
Just fuck it, fuck it hard. I can take it, I want it.
His hands were on my hips, as if I would pull away. How funny. I pushed my ass back to meet him every time.
Harder now, coming faster. Oh Lord, yes. Keep it coming. Slapping noises. Was he slapping my ass? No, it was just the sweaty sound of our bodies colliding.
I arched my back to turn my ass up for a perfect fit but upon full entry Johnny wrenched his cock in a different direction every time. I couldn't predict it the direction of shear but no matter which way it effectively widened my hole, making his cock feel huge. Every twisting lunge carried the tip of his love stick to a different spot. Anticipation, and the inability to determine where the tingling touch would land, drove me wild. Every thrust was accompanied by a thrilling stretch as the root of his shaft plugged my forbidden entrance.
My climax exploded over me, washing through my body in waves as my clenching butt drained his cock is an erratic series of pulsing clutches. It was several minutes before Johnny was able to extract his softened penis. He got up not long after and much later, I made my own trip to the shower.
****
Afterward, I dried myself and collapsed in bed beside John without bothering to put on a fresh nightgown. I awoke to the most wonderful feeling, the warm feel of lip nibbling my pussy. I can't say how long I had enjoyed my husband's mouth before waking but shortly thereafter his tongue slipped inside me and the ecstasy it imparted lasted for a long time. When my head cleared after a truly earth-shattering orgasm, John was lying beside me, his arm across my breasts and his eyes looking into mine.
"I love you, Joan."
"I know you do, John," I answered, seeing the truth of it as his eyes read mine. "Today I'm bringing our son home."
"I can hardly wait," John said, just before he kissed me.
I smiled as I picked a pubic hair from the corner of John's mouth. One kiss turned into another, casually delivered and leisurely appreciated. My hand strayed down to my husband's hard cock. I enjoyed stroking it gently, encircled within the oval of my loosely held fingers. A sudden urge prompted me to slide my thigh over his and a moment later my body followed, straddling him briefly before finding and inserting his cock.
