Chapitre 3972: a
Mom was always pretty to me, though it was easy to see why other people might not think so. She wore dumpy clothes and was so quiet and shy that most people just tended to overlook her. She didn't really take care of her figure, either. Not that she had the time. It was just her and me. My dad had run off more than ten years ago.
I didn't even remember him any more. I was only nine at the time. Mom had worked hard to get me through school. Sometimes, when times were tough, she'd had to work two jobs. She didn't have much education or skills. She was a young girl when Dad had married her. Finding and keeping a good job was hard at first.
But, Mom was an even harder worker. Without training she had somehow found herself a position as first a bookkeeper and then a comptroller for a small firm. She was efficient, loyal, and smart to boot. It was just what she wanted, a steady, nine-to-five job.
And I was working now, too. I'd taken a job in construction as soon as I graduated high school, starting as a carpenter's helper. Since then, I'd been steadily moving up from job to job. I also was going back to school at night, one class at a time. That still left a lot free time though, since I wasn't very good with girls. Never had been.
Which might explain at least some of how it happened.
My old battered truck had broke down at the jobsite. Joe, my foreman, had given me a lift home. I had taken a shower to clean up. Washing myself remained me how my body had filled in with the hard work of the last year. At 6'2" and 190 lbs., I was no longer the skinny redheaded kid that had graduated high school.
The shower had also made me horny. I could have tossed off in the bathroom, letting my cum feed the hungry mouth of the drain as it had so many times over the years. It had been a hot day though and I was feeling a bit sapped. The shower had helped revive me, and a nice long stroke would perk me right up even more.
Having lots of practice over the last five years or so, I had the fine art of masturbation down to a science. Even as I lay back on my bed, my cock was already hard and throbbing. I have a stash of stories and magazines like every young man my age. Today, I didn't even feel like bothering with those.
Lying back with my eyes closed, my heavy prick in my fist, I first tried to conjure up the image of that pretty Latino girl that checks me out sometimes at the Mini-Mart. But I hadn't seen her in two weeks.
Or Joe's skinny blonde daughter that sometimes visits him at the site when she needs money. He'd kill me if he knew I beat off with her in mind. But it had been so long since I saw her; she was like a distant memory.
The only woman I saw often was Mom. Just the thought of her brought back all my repressed feelings.
I'd stroked off so many times to thoughts of Mom I didn't feel guilty about them any more. Maybe a part of me thought I should. At least at one time. Now it was just who I was. I was nineteen and I loved her as my mother. But with all my heart I wanted to screw her as though she wasn't my mother at all.
In my mind, I knew what she needed. A strong hand and a hard cock. Mom needed a tough man with the balls to stand up to her, but she'd never give herself to a man like that again. Not since Dad had walked out.
It wasn't that she did so bad herself. She paid the bills. She held a job. She had raised a kid well on her own. But Mom was unhappy. She'd never dated since. She never went out and had fun. She never spent anything on herself, even though now we had some money. It was like she didn't think she deserved it. Like she was punishing herself.
I'd seen her secret stash of pictures once. She'd left it out one time when I was fifteen. Pictures of Mom, blindfolded and sucking cock. Pictures of Mom, embarrassed and forced to expose herself in public. Pictures of Mom, her bottom high in the air, being spanked.
I had only seen them one afternoon while she was out for several hours. They had disappeared again the next time I was able to look in her room. Ever since then, no matter how hard I had searched, I couldn't find them.
But I'd gotten a glimpse into my mother's past. One she apparently hadn't wanted any else to see. Not ever again.
And it had turned me on.
One of the pictures had showed Mom on her hands and knees. Her large breasts swung under her. They were wrapped tight in cords of rope. I'd never seen anything like that before or ever since. But I thought about it sometimes now, when I masturbated.
One of them had shown her with a woman, licking a redhead between her legs. I thought about that a lot. Mom was a mousy brunette who kept her hair cut short and unattractive now. In the pictures, she had long, beautiful black hair.
One of the pictures had shown Mom with some wet stuff running down the insides of her thighs. I remember not even really understanding what that was at the time. One day, years latter, I finally figured out it was Dad's semen. Or maybe someone else's.
That's why I had always thought of Mom as pretty. I knew why she made herself look so unattractive. She was hiding out. She used to be good looking and sexy.
Best of all, deep in the bottom of the box, I saw the ones that Mom probably didn't look at any more. They were the ones that showed her smiling and laughing as these things happened to her. The ones that showed how much she liked it.
I've thought about those pictures a lot. I think Mom kept the box of pictures around to remind herself what life had once been like. She'd look at the ones on top and remember all the bad stuff that happened.
As I lay on my bed, and stroked my staff, I remembered the pictures on the bottom. The one that showed Mom smiling back at the camera, her face covered in semen. The one that showed Mom kissing the paddle before Dad spanked her, her eyes bright with excitement. The one that showed Mom in the passenger seat of our old Buick, flashing her tits at a truck driver in the other lane; a large grin on her face and her hands busy between her legs.
I thought about that grin and those tits as I stroked my meat hard. I thought about Mom's face, covered in my jizz. Finally, I thought about Mom's ass, high up in the air, waiting eagerly for my hand to spank her.
And I came! Hot gouts of semen spurted from my long cock. With my eyes closed, I could imagine them hitting the ceiling, even when I felt them splatter inertly on my chest. To me, I was shooting off on Mom's ass, her cheeks red and rosy from her spanking. After I came, I'd lovingly rub my jizz into her sore ass.
I heard a gasp and look up to see Mom in the doorway of my bedroom, a load of my clothes in her arms. She looked shocked and appalled. Even when I started to cover myself, she didn't move. No telling how long she had been there, frozen in astonishment.
Wordlessly, Mom backed out and closed the door behind her.
Well, it was bound to happen sometime, I figured. We lived in a small house together. That's how we had first afforded it, back when it was just Mom making the payments. Now we were two adults sharing the payments and bills equally. I figured Mom masturbated on occasion. I still did at least once a day. To me, it was no big deal.
But after I got dressed and went downstairs, Mom apparently had different feelings. I found her sitting at the kitchen table, fuming.
"I want you out by tomorrow," she said brusquely before I could say a word.
Mom fidgeted in her seat, pulling her short black hair behind her ear and pushing back her glasses on her nose by rote habit without thinking. I sat down in the chair on the same side of the table as she was on, though she hardly seemed to notice.
"Why would you want me to leave, mother?" I asked her calmly.
"I thought you were different, Robert. I thought I could trust you. Now I know, your just like your father!" she said in accusation.
I didn't understand that at all. Was I like him just because I masturbated? Mom wasn't making any sense.
"Mom, I'm nothing like Dad. Have I ever done anything to hurt you?" I asked her softly.
"I don't have to justify myself to you, Robert," she said angrily. "I want you out of here. Out of here, I tell you!"
Mom started attacking me, flailing her arms in an attempt to strike me about the head. It was no use, though. Even in her rage, Mom was a small woman and I had grown into being a pretty big guy. I easily restrained her wrists, eventually getting both of them into one of my hands. Still she tried to attack me with her feet. Finally, to keep her from hurting herself, I had to put her over my lap and lean against her.
Even over my lap, Mom became more agitated. She squirmed and wailed, even hitting her head against the side of the table. It didn't seem to phase her though; she even tried to bite me through my denim jeans.
That kinda got me mad! Maybe she had some strange reason to be mad at me, but biting was childish and uncalled for.
It might have been because it was what I had just been thinking about in bed. Or maybe it was her vulnerable position and her defiance. For whatever reason, without consciously thinking about it, I pulled back my hand and then brought my palm sharply across my mother's squirming butt.
"Oh, no! Oh, no!" she wailed. With every sound I smacked her ass again.
"Please, Robbie! Please, Robbie!" I heard her plead, using her old childhood name for me. To no avail! Now that I had my dander up, I was going to take it out on her hide.
She wore a thick wool skirt and her butt had ample natural padding. Even striking her as hard as I could manage, I had little doubt that I was doing no real damage. But her fighting spirit was being broken. The more I spanked her and the harder I spanked her, the less she squirmed and yelled. Eventually, she quite squirming altogether and took my licks with muffled, low grunts each time my hand came down sharply.
I guess I had a temper just like Mom's. I'm not sure how long I spanked her. It was a while. I'm used to physical labor. I can swing a hammer all day when I have to. I didn't stop wailing on Mom's fanny until my arm was tired, however long that was.
By the time I stopped, we were both breathing hard. Mom lay across my lap for the longest time, silently whimpering. It was then I noticed. Her ass was still wiggling around without her conscious control, as though I was still spanking her.
And the leg Mom was draped across was soaking wet.
"Lay across that table, woman," came a voice out of nowhere. It startled me so; I almost looked around to see who was in the room with us. The voice had come from me, though, and it was so forceful that Mom was scurrying to obey.
Mother lay across the table on her belly. Without my asking, she flipped her skirt up and bared her pantied bottom. Even through her white, unattractive cotton drawers I could see that Mom's bottom was rosy red. A musky smell pervaded the room.
"Don't do this, Robert," Mother pleaded with me.
At first, I didn't even know what she was asking me not to do. Then my hand reached forward and grabbed her between her legs. Mother flinched and came up on her toes, starting to cry again as she did.
"Not again. Please, not again," she chanted.
Her panties were sodden. She had soaked them through and through. I felt around underneath, fascinated by what I discovered.
As my hand felt up the front panel of her saturated panties, I heard Mom say sharply to herself, "Oh shit!"
She tighten up and came up on her toes, her buttocks clenched a bit. It started me. I'd never heard my mother say a curse word before.
Later, I was to realize she did so every time she climaxed!
But I didn't know that then. I just remembered when I was very small Mother whipping me every time I ever said a four-letter word. So it was a natural reaction. With my other hand, I gave mother's ass another firm swat.
"Oh shit!" she muttered between clench teeth.
Another swat, harder this time.
"Oh dammit!" she moaned, pressing her body deep into the wood of the table.
I slapped her white covered ass over and over, smacking first one cheek and then another. I kept my other hand pressed against the wet front panel of her drawers, feeling the moisture soak into them even more. Finally, my arm was getting tired again, so I ended in a flourish.
Whack! Whack! Whack!
"Motherfuckin'dammitshit!" she wailed, then slumped lifeless over the old wood table.
Stepping back, I looked over the beautiful expanse of Mom's pantied ass. Realizing my cock was hard and throbbing, I knew that this afternoon's work had changed our whole relationship. There was no going back. We could only go ahead from this spot now.
Reaching forward, I stripped the saturated panties off of mother's battered ass. She said nothing, except to moan as I ran my hands up and down her scarlet flanks. Unzipping my pants, I let them fall to the floor and then I stepped out of them.
Like a zombie, without conscious consideration, I stepped up behind mother's unmoving body. Her vagina, wet and unprotected, was flowered open in invitation. She grunted as the head of my prick kissed those rich pink lips. She grunted more as I fed him in. Then even more when I had to struggle to slide in the last two or three inches.
Finally, as I shoved in balls deep, she grunted, "Oh fuck!" and her pussy got incredibly much tighter.
That's when I realized the secret to my mother's cursing. I felt her soak my balls and I felt her ass clamp down. She ground her clitoris into the table's edge. I dug in deep as I felt her quake from within, up and down my hard meat.
When she was done, I pulled back slow and then pumped in slow. About five strokes in, she murmured, "Oh shit!" and I felt another little cum. In three strokes she was done with that and in another ten she yelled out, "Oh damn!" This one was longer and harder than the last. She shook, not just on the inside, but the outside as well. I fucked her deep and hard through that one and knew I couldn't last much more.
I plowed her unresisting cunt fast and furious. Over and over we grunted together, often cursing at one another in harmony. Until at last I sank in deeper than ever and my balls opened up, flooding the inside of Mom's womb with hot, boiling cum. Wave after wave of hot semen filled her. Spurt after potent spurt of swimming seed painted her insides white.
"Oh, fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" Mom chanted, cumming over and over as she felt me splash inside her.
I stood there, buried up inside my mother for the longest while. My cock softened, but continued to plug her. She didn't seem interested in moving either. Perhaps she had somehow become a part of the wood of the table. I'd certainly fucked her hard enough into it.
Our only movement was my hand, slowly and softly caressing mother's bruised bottom. I remember thinking briefly that I wish I had ejaculated on her ass. It would be nice to be rubbing my jizz into her right now. There would be other times for that though. I felt sure of it. Very confident.
Eventually my cock slipped out of her. Our accumulated and combined fluids gushed weakly out of her vagina, adding to the trail of wetness down her thighs. It hardly seemed to matter. We were both a mess.
I set down hard on the old kitchen chair. I had no idea if it would hold us, rickety as it was, but I pulled Mother down into my lap anyway. She sat down gingerly. Then wiggled, squirming in.
"I'm so sorry," Mom murmured into my collarbone.
"Sorry for what, dear?" I asked. There were so many things to choose from though; one thing hardly seemed to matter more than any of the rest.
"Sorry that your mother's a whore," she sobbed, beginning to cry uncontrollably again.
How had she survived all these years on her own? Not just survived, but thrived after a fashion. She had a good job, had been a good mother, and had gotten by when most women might have folded. Still, she thought of herself this way.
My father must have been quite an asshole!
"No, you're not," I told her gently, rocking Mom in my lap. "That's what he told you, isn't it?"
"Him and my daddy, too. Every man I've ever been with. You will too, eventually," she said resignedly.
"No, Mother," I told her, just as sure of my conclusion. "I don't think I will. You have needs. Unusually needs I guess, but real ones nonetheless. We'll work through them together. Find out which ones are healthy. Help you get over the rest. I'll be in charge from now on, of course. You don't mind that, do you dear?"
"No, of course not," she muttered, wiping away her tears. "Don't leave me, Robert. I couldn't bear it if you left me too. I'll do anything to keep you. Anything at all."
"We'll sleep together from now on, Mother. In fact, I'll be calling you Rita from here on out. Doesn't seem right to call you Mom after whipping you so hard."
"OK, dear. Anything you say."
"If you step out of line, or give me sass, I'll have to spank you again, of course. But somehow I don't think you'll mind that too much," I told her.
"Not after a day or two I won't," she giggled. She wiggled her sore bottom against my lap and groaned. Then she giggled again. I didn't know Mom could be so playful. So girlish.
"Should we stay here where people know us, or move away as man and wife?" I considered aloud.
"We have time, darling. You don't have to decide before dinner. But if you'll allow me to bathe, I'll fix your favorite meal tonight."
"Maybe," I told her noncommittally. "I kinda like you just like this, naked and vulnerable and in my arms. Do you mind, Rita?"
"Of course not, Robert. I'll do anything you say, dear."
We sat like that for a good long bit; each lost in their own thoughts.
I had so much to learn about keeping a woman like Mom satisfied and happy. Rita's position was even worse. She had much to UN-learn. It would take a long while before I was done with reeducating Rita.
When I eventually decided to get up, I carried Mom to the bathroom with me. I decided that we both needed a shower to wash off the funk of our aggressive sex. I was feeling very affectionate toward her, more than I ever would have imagined.
The shy mother I grew up with had quickly become a fighter when she accidentally walked in on me masturbating. Through a series of circumstances beyond our control, I had ended up first spanking her into submission and then aggressively having sex with her.
Now Rita, as I was already thinking of her, had agreed to place herself completely under my control. I was beginning to understand what had led her to this place in her life where such things appeared normal to her. Abused, first by her father and then by mine, Rita was a woman just waiting for the first strong man to come along and scoop her up. She was a tasty morsel for any man's taking.
Only she had made herself look less tasty in order to hide that fact after my father had left ten years ago. Behind ugly hair and dumpy clothes, Rita withdrew from the world. She never went out or had fun. She was punishing herself for twenty plus years of being the whore other men had forced her to be. Now it was up to me to reeducate Rita and teach her to be the woman I knew she could become.
So, I began with a simple warm shower. The hot water stung Rita's sore ass. As I held her under the spray, I examined the cheeks of her bottom and her flanks that I had brutalized. She had been attacking me at the time too, biting and scratching as best she could, which wasn't much considering our size difference. But I had gone too far. I could see that now in examining her flesh and the bruises that would be there for a while. I was gratified to see that no permanent damage had been done, however.
Had I been thinking clearly at the time, I wouldn't have whipped her quite so hard. When she needed to be spanked again, I'd have to do so in a more controlled fashion.
And Rita would need it. We both completely understood that now. Rita needed discipline, and even beyond that, being controlled sexually excited her. When I had pulled her off of my lap, my denim jeans had been soaked.
I had found that controlling and disciplining Rita had excited me as well. I'd never be content with just going back to being her dutiful son.
I'd seen a movie once that said when a man saved someone's life, he became responsible for them. In a real sense, I knew I had changed, and probably saved, Rita's life today. She was my responsibility now.
Consciously accepting that duty, I began to wash Rita from head to toe. As we went along, I told her some of the things we would need to change.
Her short, unattractive hair was matted and stringy after our sweaty affair.
"You'll let your hair grow out again, Rita," I told her firmly, my voice brooking no quarrel or discussion.
"Yes, Robert," she sputtered as I held her head under the spray to wash out the shampoo.
Mother used to have such beautiful, long black hair. I had seen it in pictures. Sexual pictures that she had never wanted anyone to see.
"You'll start wearing makeup again," I decided as I washed her face. "Nothing too extreme. We'll go over it later. You can show me what you think and I'll decide if I like it."
I knew my own limitations. Makeup wasn't something that I knew a lot about.
As I washed Mom's chest and stomach and under her arms, I could see the ravages of middle age creeping up on her already. She was only thirty-five, but Rita hadn't taken good care of herself lately. With no man to look after her or to look nice for, she'd put on extra pounds. Her sedentary job as a comptroller for a small retail firm wasn't giving her much exercise either.
"I'll work out an exercise routine for you, Rita," I told mother. "I don't expect you to be a teenager, but we'll get rid of this loose skin under your arms and your soft belly. Not that you're not attractive. You are. But, I want you to start taking better care of your body. It's mine now, and I won't have you abusing it."
Mother nodded dutifully and smiled as I caressed her big breasts under the warm spray. She stuck out her chest and moaned attractively, causing my cock to stir.
That's when I pulled Rita into our first kiss. I had to lean down a bit as Mom was at least eight inches shorter than me. She rose up on her toes and craned her neck to reach me, though, as eager for the intimacy of the dance of our tongues as I was. I crushed her smaller body against my firm chest and she swooned in my arms. It was just as I had always imagined. A strong man with a big hard cock was all Mom had been waiting for.
Squatting down, I had Rita first turn toward me so I could wash her unkempt bush, and then away from me so I could wash her slightly sagging bottom. The exercise routine would take care of the latter. I'd have to decide how radical to be about the former.
"Have you ever shaved your pussy, Rita?" I asked her. "I mean really shaved it bare?"
"Yes, Robert," she replied, becoming suddenly tense at the question. "My father shaved me first. Then your daddy always insisted I keep it that way."
Her pubis and vagina were not unattractive, just as they were. The hair was black in color and silky in texture. It was still sparse enough that it I could see mother's pale flesh through it.
"We'll just trim it back for now. I think the dark color looks delicious, personally," I informed her.
Rita relaxed and opened her legs a bit more for my inspection. Her vulva was fleshy, the lips rising between her legs like dark, rippling hillocks.
As I began to wash the accumulated sperm and slime from off of Rita's inner thighs, I had her turn around to face the wall and bend over. Mother had wide set ass cheeks and the small, near-black ring of her anus was clearly visible. After scrubbing down Rita's thighs, which obviously were in need of the same exercise, I used the rougher washcloth to scrub the long, darkened furrow of her asscrack.
Rita submitted to this indignity without comment or complaint. The only sounds in the bathroom were the hiss of the spray and then my mother's delicately soft moans.
I used my finger, slick with soap to press inside the tight ring, committed to scrubbing mother thoroughly. The increased volume of Rita's moans informed me that such thoroughness was not unappreciated.
But this shower was not for her pleasure. She'd had perhaps too much of that already this afternoon. Turning Rita around, I instructed her to now rinse and wash my body, but to be quicker about it. I'd already had one shower just after work. That's what had started this whole affair.
She needed time to familiarize herself with my body too, though. Mother hadn't seen me naked since I was a boy. At least, not until she walked in on me masturbating. I'd changed a lot since then, especially in the last year.
I was a skinny redheaded stringbean when I had graduated high school. As a carpenter's helper with a construction company, I'd filled out and bulked up. I now had stronger thighs, a hard stomach, and a wide, muscular chest. The only thing that had stayed the same was my hard, ten inches that was even now waving proudly. I had looked like a freak before, skinny and all dick. Working steadily in a physically demanding profession had given me a body to match my sexual equipment.
I wasn't surprised when Mom wanted to inspect between my legs most of all. She got down on her knees and gently bathed my scrotum with her soft hands. She lathered the staff that so recently had helped to tame her. She lovingly turned me toward the spray to wash the suds away. Then when I turned back to her, Rita rose up off her haunches and engulfed the swollen crown into her small mouth.
In my mind, I'd given up on ever getting a good blowjob. I'd seen pictures and even looked at a few porno shorts over the Internet but my experience with real women or girls was practically non-existent. Nothing I had seen had led me to believe that a real woman could take my larger cock completely into her mouth.
Not that I hadn't dreamed about blowjobs like every other boy. Not that I hadn't dreamed about Mom herself giving them to me. In the pictures I'd seen of her, she often had a stiff erection between her lips. None of those cocks were as long or as thick as mine, though.
And she did struggle with it, especially at first. But Mom was a trooper. She had as much determination to please her man as I had to take care of her. Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, Mom worked my hard shaft back into her hungry throat.
Her mouth was wet and warm. She was applying just enough suction, just enough friction with her lips, to make it feel wonderful. Her tongue made a slick groove she used to slide me in and out. It felt like fucking her cunt, or so I imagined. In truth, I'd only fucked Mom once and then I'd been slamming so hard and fast into her that I hadn't noticed the details.
Mostly I was straining to control my breathing, staring up at the ceiling, and trying desperately to hold back the wonderful sensation. From the first moment Rita took my cock into her mouth, I knew that if I just relaxed and let the momentum build naturally, I would have sprayed the back of her throat too quickly. But I held back, allowing Mother the time necessary to get a good taste of her new love, and time to exercise the muscles necessary to taking care of me this way regularly.
As my cockhead hit the back of her throat, though, I had to look down and see that wonderful sight I thought I'd never see. She had it all, her eyes bright with excitement, her nose exhaling rapidly into the red curls that surrounded the base of my shaft.
When mother drew back, it looked as though she was smiling up at me before she plunged quickly back down to the depths. Her throat constricted tight about the knob as though she was trying to swallow it down. I rocked, moaning loudly, and by the time she'd done that twice all thought of holding back escaped me.
My hot load boiled up and out, as though I was feeding Mom my very life itself. As she greedily sucked my seed, I felt more and more empty, more and more relaxed. It was as though Rita were sucking out everything bad, everything impure I'd ever done. When she was through, I felt empty, but it was an empty feeling that felt sooo good!
As I leaned against the wall, panting and recuperating, Rita rose up on her feet, rubbing her jaw.
"First you stretch my cunt and now you've stretched my mouth, Robert," she said in a deep, husky voice. She hugged me, pressing her cheek hard into my firm chest. "I don't know if I can take you in my one remaining hole just yet, but I can't wait to have you there too."
Overwhelmed by the sentiment, I grabbed Rita's hair and pressed her back against the wall, kissing her hard as I milked those big lovely tits in my large hands. She squirmed, wanting desperately to hold me I think, but I pinned her arms and pressed her firmly back against the wall instead.
When I trusted my own voice to be steady, I told her, "Fucking you has built up a real appetite, woman, and you promised my favorite meal. If you don't deliver, and deliver soon, I might just have to eat you up instead."
Rita groaned with sexy laughter and her eyes danced wickedly at the thought. I gave her sore ass a tender swat and told her to get out and dry herself off, then tell me when she was ready to dry me too.
She took her time about it, lollygaging about, enjoying the rough cloth on my chest and back and ass. She licked the excess water off my dick and then dried it lovingly, her eyes filled with an incomprehensible devotion.
Finally I had to run her off. I'd never eat if I left her to her heart's content.
The meal was good, even if it was hastily prepared and presented. I don't suppose it helped much that I was in the small kitchen, watching every move my naked mother made as she went about it.
Later, after we'd done the dishes together, we lay on the couch listening to music. Rita's ass was getting tender, so I allowed her to lie across my chest and stroked her back as we talked quietly together about the future.
We went to bed early at my insistence. Tomorrow morning would come too soon for me. Joe, my foreman, was picking me up early since my truck had broken down. Without any comment, we both went straight to mother's larger bed after our separate nightly rituals.
"Robert, I know it's completely your decision, but can a make a request please, son?" Mother asked.
"You can always ask me anything, Rita," I said, emphasizing her given name. "Unless I know your concerns and desires, how can I take care of you like I should?"
Rita smiled, a bit overcome I think. She always seemed to expect to be treated brutally. I'm sure she thought that only brutal men could dominate. So far, every tenderness I'd shown her had been met with surprise, then grateful acceptance.
"I know tomorrow I'll be sore," she said, her voice carrying no hint of accusation or bitterness at the thought. "Tonight, could we be together again once more before we go asleep? With you on top? I'm not sure if I'll be able to enjoy it as much tomorrow, but earlier today, I couldn't see your face."
Mom had come a long way toward accepting our situation to be able to make such a request. Maybe it had been the gentleness after dinner. Maybe it had been the encouragement I had been giving her as she prepared the meal and as we ate. Either way, it was a tender thought, and not a bad idea.
Just for a moment, I considered whether I really wanted my mother to fall in love with me. After all, by her own admission, Rita did have whorish ways. Even though she had cleaned her life up and lived the straight and narrow these last years, now her libido had been awakened again. The mother I had known throughout my youth could have never cum as many times or done the things my Rita had enjoyed today.
But men had used Rita all her life, apparently without concern or affection for her at all. Would it hurt so much if I allowed her to fall in love right now, even though she still had a lot to unlearn?
I made the decision, then and there, that it wouldn't. I'd have to be strong enough for the both of us. Hard decisions would have to be made; hard choices with big consequences for the rest of our lives. I'd be the one making those, not Rita.
So it really didn't matter if she fell in love or not. Or if I did, for that matter; which I hadn't… yet.
All that mattered was that I kept focused and was willing to make those hard decisions when they had to be made. Determination. Will. Focus.
"Sure, Rita," I told her warmly. "That'd be fine."
As she crawled naked into the middle of the bed, she told me, "I know you have to be at work early. You don't have to prepare me or anything. I'm ready; and I can tell, so are you."
My erection was pretty obvious, sticking out before me like a stiff baton. I crawled up onto the bed and between Rita's legs. She was looking into my eyes, even as her hand reached out to grab my prick.
"You don't have to be gentle, Robert," she murmured in a husky voice as she steered my cock to harbor. "I've never been able to respond to that, anyway. I'm Rita, just remember that. Rita that needs to fuck you, baby. Rita needs to fuck you bad!"
As I slid into Rita's warmth, her breath came in shallow gulps. It was an amazing sight, this woman that I had thought I knew so well. Shy Mother. Unassuming Mother. The woman everyone tended to overlook.
As I looked into her eyes while I stuffed her with my cock, I could certainly see why she thought herself the whore. Mother's depth of passion was astounding. I had to stop halfway because she was still so tight. As I worked in an out with short, smooth jabs, Rita tossed her head from side to side with the same smooth rhythm. Then, when she had loosened up and my cock was slick with her copious juices, I pushed in hard and deep as mother cried out with her first curse word of the session.
"Oh fuck, baby! So good!"
Mother only cursed when she was climaxing. I felt her clench at my cock like a tight, velvet vise. A very wet velvet vise indeed!
Her eyes cleared and she craned her neck to look up into mine. I started with a slow, agonizing stroke to make it last. Mother's eyes at first panicked. Then, after her legs came up and wrapped around me, she thrust her hips up sharply and threw her head back and bellowed again.
"Fuck that's a big cock!"
When her wits had returned, I increased the pace, setting up a steady slap of our two bellies. There was a wet, smacking sound and with every backstroke it felt as though I was turning her inside out as she gripped me tight. I felt my heavy nuts spanking her ass with every stroke. Rita tossed her head from side to side and grunted from somewhere deep in her throat.
"You fuckin' bastard! You fuckin' shit!"
It was easier to pump her harder after that. Mother's words elicited violence, even when I didn't feel that way. It seemed the only way she could respond. The only way she could feel pleasure.
"Your fuckin' cock is killing me! Oh damn! So fuckin' deep!"
I'd heard of things like this, read about it in dirty stories. Multi-orgasmic was the more clinical word, if I wasn't mistaken. Whore and slut were the more common labels women like mother were given.
"You motherfucker!" Rita said intently, her eyes boring into mine as she came again.
That seemed to be a favorite curse of hers. An appropriate one, too. I was fucking her, fucking my mother. So I fucked her good. I fucked her hard.
The bed shook as we slapped against each other. I felt Rita's hands on my ass, pulling me down harder with each thrust. With every stroke I tried to get into her wet hole deeper and deeper. Mother's pliant body yielded to the tender violence, accepting my hard sword like she was its natural sheath.
At last, I couldn't hold back any longer. Rita needed it. Her eyes, hungry for cock - for semen - begged me. Her hips clung to my thrusting pelvis. Her cunt sucked at my stiff prick, aching to drain my balls.
Pulling her arms over her head and arching myself into her forcefully, I warned her, "Here it comes you sweet bitch!"
Mother exploded with me, cursing and flailing about like a whirl-a-wheel at the county fair.
"You sweet motherfuckin' prick! You sonofabitch! You fuckin'bastard!"
We came together, pressing flesh roughly against each other, staring deeply into one another's eyes. The intensity threatened to overwhelm me, but I was strong. I wore her out. I came, pumping hard and deep, until Rita was the one to look away and not me.
Only then did I allow myself to relax and lean heavily against her. Rita cradled me in her soft arms, pulling my heavier weight down on top of her. She struggled to breathe, but every time I tried to rise, she pulled me back down instead.
"Oh, baby," she crooned, suddenly tender again. "That was so good baby. Mama's sorry for all the things she said. I just can't help it. It's the way I've always been."
"I know Rita," I told her soothingly. "At first it troubled me. Now, it doesn't matter. Don't let it worry you."
"You're so good for me, Robert," she whispered breathily. "So strong and forceful."
Eventually I coaxed her into rolling on our sides. Still she clung to me. We lay, locked tightly in each other's arms until we dozed. Only then did mother's arms relax and her legs unwind from around me.
I slept like the dead until the alarm went off. Mother had remembered to set hers for me. She rose, an hour earlier than she needed to, and reluctantly made breakfast as I took a quick shower.
"No, you can't suck me in the shower again," I had been force
d to tell her, laughing gently at her persistence. "Breakfast now, or I'll bend you over the table again. I'm sure there's a spatula or wooden handled spoon I could find to help me."
When I had showered and dressed, I went to the kitchen to eat and that's how I found her. She was leaning over the table, her naked ass displayed, with every spatula and every wooden spoon we had on the table beside her.
Luckily for her, my breakfast was on the table as well.
I ordered her to stay just as she was, then pulled the plate over and sat down right beside her.
As I ate my delicious breakfast, I watched Rita's lovely, bruised ass for entertainment. She could hardly hold it still for long. Try as she would, it still wavered and wiggled about.
Her aroma pervaded the room as well. Before I had finished my eggs, cream was dripping down her thighs in a small rivulet. I watched it inch across soft flesh that only yesterday I had bathed. She must have enjoyed being watched too. The longer it took, the wetter she got.
"Are you as sore today as you expected?" I asked, breaking the extended silence.
"Yes, worse than I thought." she murmured, her face pressed hard against the table. "Please, don't let that stop you, Robert! I need it!"
"Yes, any fool can see that, Rita," I said patiently. "Still, I'm dressed now and I think you need to learn your place. Should I leave you to lie here on the table all day for my return?"
"No! Please, Robert! I need to work. Even if you have to send me out like this. Please, I'll promise to be good," she begged.
But that's what I feared. Mother's sexual dormancy had ended. Could she be good, needing sex as badly as she did? I'd have to be careful with her now.
Standing up beside her, I stepped behind and eased my thumb deep into her wet vagina. Quickly my hand was coated with her juice. Just what I needed to do what I had planned.
Withdrawing the thumb, I then replaced it with two stiff fingers. Working quickly, I pressed in fast and deep, making Rita moan. As I slid in the third alongside the two, I pressed my slickened thumb into Mom's smaller hole, thrusting it in her ass roughly as I gripped her between finger and thumb like a bowling ball.
I fingerfucked her, hard and steady. Rita began cursing and bucking back almost immediately. Without mercy I stuffed her, her thick cream flowing and pooling underneath her on the table. Her thick curses filled the air, announcing each time Mother climaxed on my active digits.
In ten minutes, she screamed out as loud and as often as she had in thirty minutes last night. My year of working hard with a hammer was put to good use. I hammered her hard with my strong arm. I hammered that thumb into her ass hard. I hammered those fingers into her cunt deep and strong. I hammered and hammered and hammered until Rita's cursings became unintelligible.
Then, for good measure, I hammered just a bit more.
When I was done, my arm was sore again and Rita lay wasted on the table. It was quickly becoming a habit around here. I was growing to love that old table. I bet Rita was too. She must have mapped out every inch of it by now with her body.
I washed my hands. Then my wrist. Then my arm all the way up to the elbow. That's how much pussy juice there was.
Then I eased Rita down into a sitting position on a chair.
Pulling out my cock, I rubbed the swollen head over Mom's face and lips until she began to revive. The smell of my cock and the taste on her lips brought her around eventually.
When she reached for it, I slapped her hands away.
"See my cock, Rita?" I asked her. It was hard to miss, waving in her face as it was. "If I even think you're ever cheating on me, you'll never taste this cock again. Do you understand?"
"Oh, Robert," she wailed. "I never would. I've always been faithful to my man."
Maybe she had been. Then again, maybe she was lying.
"No hand jobs, no blow jobs, and that pussy is all mine. So is your ass. And every other part of you. No exceptions. Understand."
"Yes, Robert," she murmured as I rubbed the throbbing head on her lips.
"If you have to masturbate at work, you'd better be discreet. If you lose your job because of any of this, it won't go nice for you. Understand, Rita?"
"Yes, darling," she replied earnestly. As earnestly as she could with my cock pressing against her mouth.
"Then kiss it deep and I know you'll be true to it," I told her.
Rita took in half very quickly, then gagged a bit, slowing as she tried to ease it deep. It took a minute, maybe more. Eventually, she was breathing through my hairs again.
"OK, let it go now," I told her.
When I pulled out, Rita said panicky, "Let me finish you, baby. Let me taste you, please."
"Tonight, Rita," I told her. Then added, "When you've shown me you can be good."
Throughout the day, Rita crossed my mind. Her sexuality was an open wound until I found a way to heal it. Still, I had done what I could. At some point, a man has to trust in fate.
Two strange incidents stuck with me that day. Joe noticed the change in me right off. I got into his truck and my foreman looked at me and smiled.
"It looks like someone had a nice night," he said casually.
"Maybe so," I replied.
"Good," he nodded and smiled again. "You needed to relax, son. You're a good man, Robert. Just wound a bit too tight."
We had a nice day at work that day. Joe seemed more at ease with me. He gave me more important things to do. I did them well too, earning even more of his respect.
In the afternoon, about an hour before quitting time, Joe's skinny blonde haired daughter stopped by. She flounced around a bit, trying to get some money out of her dad, then finally left hurriedly after he handed her a twenty.
"What do ya do with a girl like that?" Joe asked rhetorically as she was walking away.
I looked at her skinny butt just briefly, not long enough to give offense. I knew what I'd do with the sassy thing. I figured Joe and I were good enough friends by now, so I opened up a little.
"I'd put her across my lap and spank her 'till she acted right. But then, I'm not her Daddy, eh?" I said lightly, laughing a bit as I said it.
"Her mom won't let me spank her any more," he laughed back. "Why the hell you think she knows she can get away with acting like that?"
"Too bad, it'd be good for her," I told him, grinning. "Maybe you should spank the mother instead."
Joe laughed at that too, then added, "You can only say that 'cause you never met my wife, son. That woman's mean as cat mess!"
After work, one of the guys was able to help me fix my truck up. It was a simple thing once he had a chance to look at it. Nothing some bailing wire and some plastic tiestraps didn't cure.
At home, I showered and fixed myself a quick sandwich. Today was the day I had class at night. Not long, usually about two and a half-hours. I often left before Mom got home. As I ate, I called her up at work.
"Rita here," she answered very professionally.
"Have you been good today, dear?" I asked softly without further introduction.
"Oh, Robert," Rita whispered into the phone. "Yes, darling. I've been very good. You did such a fine job this morning, I had no problems today even though I thought I might. I was a little late though. It took me a whole hour to clean up. I'll set the clock earlier for tomorrow."
"That sounds nice to me. Bottom sore?"
"Yes," she giggled. "Oh, no. Someone's looking over here. One of the ladies made a comment that I looked too darn happy today. Guess I am."
Then, she whispered very softly, "And my bottom is VERY tender. Just right."
"Then get back to work and maybe I'll make sure it is tomorrow, too," I said laughingly.
"I wish," came her sharp reply.
"Tonight's college night," I reminded her before we hung up. When Rita groaned, I laughed again.
"I'll be prepared when you get home," she whispered. Then softly added, "You'll know where to find me."
"Don't let anyone there hear you say it," I told her chuckling, but still a little serious. "They'll all know you have a secret lover and they'll get curious."
"OK, Robert," she whispered submissively. "Or maybe I should use another name for you when you call up here."
"I'll think about it and let you know later," I said, dismissing the idea for now.
School was a grind. U.S. History. Just what I didn't need tonight. Half the time I spent it with a hard-on, thinking about Rita. No one seemed to notice, except for an older, more professional looking woman that sits beside me in class. She just smiled and faked a yawn, pretending to be bored. Then when she had caught my attention, she intentionally glanced down to my crotch and smiled. When her eyes came back to mine, she gave me a friendly wink.
I smiled casually, not paying her much mind. I had a woman already that was waiting anxiously at home for me.
When I got there, I heard soft moans from the bedroom. The house was dark with just a small light from the bathroom spilling over into the hall.
I silently took off my clothes in the hallway. When I opened the door, I could see that Rita had started without me. At first my temper flared a moment, then I remembered I hadn't told her she couldn't.
She was on her knees with her ass raised high and she was already muttering curses. I heard a low buzz as I crept up to the bed. I saw the vibrator - an older, cheap plastic model - sticking out from Rita's vagina.
As my knees hit the end of the bed to crawl on, Rita started to moan and plead.
"Oh, Robert! Baby, come fill mama up," she whined sweetly. She roughly shoved a tube of lubricant in my direction. "Please, baby. Fill the hole you haven't used just yet."
I probably should have denied her. She was taking a lot on herself to tell me what to do. Still, she was in high-heat and the idea certainly had its appeal.
I'd thought about it hundreds of times. I'd often dreamed about the first time I took my mother's ass.
Her anus was flushed pink and already greased. It was a simple matter to swab the head of my cock, then a thin line down the thick shaft. As I rubbed it in, I presented the rude head and introduced it to mother's waiting hole.
She groaned and as I smoothed the slick stuff on, Rita threw a towel across her shoulder for me. She had thought of everything. Or had she? I wondered. I wiped my hands then grabbed her bruised flanks and started pushing the swollen head inside Rita's slick tightness.
But she wasn't as tight as I would have expected. Perhaps she had been working on herself. Still, she was so snug it was a struggle to get in. Maintaining steady pressure, I oozed slowly inside until Rita's bellows stopped me.
"Oh, dammit! Oh, fuck please stop!"
I waited, trying to breathe deep, as Mom's body constricted like a rubber band on the head of my cock. It hurt, with a sweet, wonderful ache. When she relaxed again, I didn't wait. I eased in deeper.
"Fuck me! Fuck me!" Rita wailed three quarters of the way in, squeezin down hard. When she let up again, I sank all the rest of the way, pulled back a bit then bumped her hips with a sharp thrust back inside. Mom repeated the curse, then started rocking back and forth an inch or two, stuffing herself in slow repetitions.
As her sphincter relaxed, I started working in time with her. Out with her up, then back with her down. It was a slower grind than any other way I'd been inside her - this hole, a tighter hole.
All that just meant I was enjoying it more. Soon we had a slow, smooth stroke going and I could feel Rita's warm flesh heating up the whole length of my pole.
She was cursing continuously now. When she caught a breath, I heard the buzz of the vibrator. As she prodded herself with it, she stirred my nuts. Everything felt smooth and hot and glorious. There was only one thing I could think of to make it better.
Every now and then, at irregular cadence, I'd swat Rita sharply on the ass.
"Oh you motherfucker!" she groaned the first time I did it.
I waited twenty, maybe thirty fast heartbeats, then swatted her again.
"You sonofabitch! That feels sodamngood!"
So she went. Every time I popped her, she tightened up and climaxed cursing me as she did. She got so hot and smooth that I didn't even have to miss a stroke whenever she came. It was still much snugger when she was clenching, but that only made it better!
With harder, longer thrusts I built up to where she already was. She was mumbling now, barely able to vocalize her curses. Her thrusting hips slowed, as though unable to maintain the intensity any longer. No matter. Mine were deep and sure.
Until the last, hard thrust. Rita's face was buried in the pillow then. My hands were roughly latched onto the loose flesh of her hips. Deep in her smooth, warm ass I exploded, bursting like an over-inflated balloon, sharp and loud!
I pumped and strained and screamed as I filled her up. Mom lay there, by this time just passively accepting.
Afterward, I slumped back on my haunches, slipping almost effortlessly out of her gaping ass. Somehow, I remembered the towel and placed it between her legs to catch the flow.
I couldn't see the vibrator anywhere, I realized. Then, I heard Rita grunt and suddenly her wet vagina began expelling it slowly, as though she was giving birth. It was a very sexy thing. It even caused my limp cock to stir a bit.
After cleaning us up as much as I could, I lay down beside her and Mother scooted over to rest her head on my chest, nuzzling and nursing on my nipple. That tickled, so I covered her head with my hand, calming and easing her.
"It's official," Rita whispered soft and sleepy. "Now I'm all yours, son."
"I'm glad you think so Rita," I said yawning. "But you always were."
Soon, I heard mother's gentle rhythmic breat
hing. With my last conscious thought, I pulled her snugly to me and fell asleep.
"Bend over and touch your toes, Rita," I told mother early the next morning as I started her on her new exercise program.
She did so, slowly as I had instructed her, presenting me with a beautiful image of her naked ass; the ass that only last night she had given to me for the first time.
"I can't touch them, Robert," she moaned as she stretched, trying desperately to follow my wishes.
"Just hold it there and stretch, then," I said.
While she was there, I began to slide my finger up and down her wet groove. Her pussy flowered out, the fleshy lips parting like the raw earth under a plow. Rita moaned and my finger and her inner lips began to glisten with her moisture.
"How long can you hold yourself like that, Rita?" I asked her calmly, though truthfully my heart was beginning to race at the sight and smell of her. I hadn't given her a chance to shower this morning and a strong musky aroma from our sex last night still clung to her body. It wasn't unpleasant, however, even with her so thoroughly exposed to me.
"I'm not sure, Robert," she said honestly. Then, showing her new dedication to please me, she added, "If you tell me to, I'll try to stay like this all day."
I forced my stiff cock to angle far down until I could slide the swollen crown along mother's slick outer channel. As I squatted slightly and pushed forward, the head of my throbbing dick massaged her from the bottom of her hungry crack to the top just as my finger had done before. Rita moaned as I slowly eased back and forth, and seemed to gasp every time I reached her front and my circumcised crown rubbed across her clit.
"Robert, please put it inside me," she began to beg.
"Put what inside, Rita?" I asked her.
"Your penis. Please, Robert! Don't make me beg for it, baby," she pleaded.
"My penis?" I teased her, both verbally and physically. "That wasn't what you were calling it last night."
Rita groaned as I prodded her. She began to rock ever so slightly. Knowing that she would probably get so excited she would strain something in this awkward position, I place my big hands on Rita's soft ass and used my own hips for movement instead.
"Tell me where you'd like me to put it, Rita," I ordered her, beginning to thoroughly enjoy this early morning manipulation.
When Mom didn't respond quickly enough, I spanked the taut cheeks of her ass with one resounding slap for each of them. Her gluteus muscles tightened and quivered beautifully. I even felt her vaginal lips quiver around the thick shaft of my prick, a feeling that was exquisite for me.
"Please, Robert," she tried to say in a steady voice, "please put your penis in my vagina, son."
Mother always tried to be so proper with me, except of course when she was climaxing. Then she would curse as harshly as any sailor.
My cock was coated thickly with her cream by now. Rita was slick and ready to be fucked. Since her sexuality had been ignited by our aggressive lovemaking over the last two days, Rita always seemed just on the verge of orgasm when we were together. She came more often and more strongly than I would have ever imagined possible. No wonder my mother thought of herself as a whore. If she weren't my mother, I'd think she was a whore, too.
But I refused to accept that Rita had to live the life of a slut or a whore. My grandfather and my father had taught her to live like that. Now I saw my role as reeducating her, as healing the open wound of Rita's sexuality that these lesser men had left exposed.
"Brace yourself, Rita," I warned her as I seated the swollen crown of my cock into her gaping pussy. The way that she was bent over left her completely vulnerable to anything I wanted.
"I'm about to take you, Rita," I told her firmly.
Rita wrapped her arms around her lower thighs. Her large, lovely breasts flattened out along her thighs, their heavy weight pulling them down in the direction of her chin.
I had to bend my knees even more as my cock began to press into her slick, tight hole. Rita's position made her cunt even harder to squeeze myself into than in other ways we had tried. The first several inches were easy but after that she tightened up quite a bit. Still, I crammed her mercilessly full with a steady, firm pressure.
Rita began to chant as I slid deeper.
"Oh! Oh! Oh!"
About half way in, I had to start thrusting since it had gotten harder to press ahead. With the loose flesh on the side of her hips firmly in my grasp, I began pulling out and then back two and three inches at a time into her wonderful wetness.
"Oh, no! Oh, no! Oh, no!"
The brown ring of Rita's anus was puckering convulsively as her vaginal muscles tried to accommodate their rough intruder. Seeing that mesmerized me. For a moment, I watched it as I pumped steadily in and out of her just a short length. The thought of last night, my long, thick pole stuffed up that tight brown ring inflamed me. Breathing harder, my pulse racing, I pulled back dramatically and made one hard thrust into Rita's slick channel.
"You motherfucker! Oh you fuck!" Rita screamed, convulsing strongly in orgasm around my cock. Her voice was muffled and her breathing ragged because of her awkward position.
She was certainly enjoying it now, but I couldn't lunge hard against her. If I did, it would plunge Rita forward. So I made up for it my stimulating her in another of her favorite ways. Smack! The loud sound of my hand slapping hard against her fleshy bottom sounded.
"Oh, shit," mother said, straining to hold the position as she had another, smaller climax. The inner muscles of her cunt felt like they were fluttering along my thick shaft as I rocked into her slowly.
Smack! "Oh, damn!" Smack! "Your fucking cock..." Smack! "is fucking killing me!"
After she had experienced a dozen small climaxes in quick procession, I roughly pulled out of her and pushed her down to lean against the bed.
The muscles of Rita's legs were strained. She winced as I pushed her toward the floor and as she sat down hard on her smarting bottom, she winced again. As she straightened her legs and rubbed her aching buttocks, she failed to see what I was doing.
Feeling aroused and horny, I stood over mother taking great strokes of my slick shaft. When she finally looked up at me, she saw the bulbous head of my cock aiming at her face and neck as I strained toward my orgasm.
"Play with your clit, Rita," I ordered her. With my swollen cockhead in her face, the naturally submissive woman was eager to obey. "Cum with me, mother!"
I had to hold back until she could catch up. Still, Rita's finger's danced nimbly in the dark bush between her legs. I saw her press two fingers deep into her gash, and then a third joined it.
"Tell me!" I roared. "Tell me when you're ready! I'm gonna drown you! I'm gonna cum all over you, Rita!"
"Oh, you sweet bastard! Oh motherfu..."
Rita's curses were drowned out by the sputtering sound of thick wads of my semen splashing into her mouth and onto her face. She gagged and choked as some of the sticky stuff went down her windpipe. She tried to cough and curse and cum at the same time as I pumped spurt after spurt of hot jizz onto her nearly prone body, sometimes missing and hitting the hardwood floor beside her.
As I finished, I pulled Rita down flat on the floor and, squatting over her, used the softening head of my penis to stir my semen around on her face and on her lips. We were both breathing deeply, our eyes boring into one another's intensely.
"Come on now, Rita," I finally told her, standing first myself and then pulling her up after me. "It's time for us to take a quick shower and for me to get ready for work."
The smaller woman came into my arms for just a moment, pressing her damp check into my wide chest. I held her tightly, feeling Rita gently shiver with the need to be held and comforted after our rough sex. I waited patiently until it had passed, stroking the back of her neck and along the edge of her short hair until she was done.
While we were showering, I told her, "After I leave for work, I want you to do twenty sit-ups, twenty jumping jacks, and twenty deep knee bends."
Rita groaned, but I told her she'd do the same thing every night and every morning after she woke. I also told her I'd be looking for a stationary bike that she could ride in the house where I could keep an eye on her. As I dressed, mother went naked downstairs and fixed me a quick breakfast. I hungrily ate the eggs, bacon and toast she had prepared. Rita hovered over me, barely letting my glass get halfway empty before she was filling it again with cold milk. Finally, I'd had enough and pushed slightly away from the table.
"Sit in my lap, woman. Facing me," I told her. Rita straddled my lap, her arms going reflexively around my neck.
Before pushing away, I'd put a large dollop of butter on my plate under the guise of buttering the last of my toast. As she settled into my lap, I smeared two fingers around in the butter, coating them liberally. Rita was already beginning to rub her naked pussy against the crotch of my heavy denim jeans. I told her to stop that immediately or I'd smell like wet pussy all day.
But with my left hand, I still pulled her tight toward me before asking, "Are you tender from last night, Rita?"
"Yes, Robert," she murmured, her lower half wiggling reflexively as we talked about her anus. "I've only had one thing even remotely that big inside me before and that was a dildo, not a wonderful cock like yours."
Reaching behind her, I slowly inserted one stiff finger into Rita's tender rectum. She winced at first, then closed her eyes, her breathing coming in more ragged gasps.
"Does that make it feel better or worse?" I asked her, uncertain from her facial expression.
"Better. It burns a little, from the salt in the butter. But that feels good, too."
Slipping in the other finger too, I asked her, "Should I coat my whole cock in it next time I take you back there?"
"Ugh!" Rita groaned. "Do it right now, baby!"
"No, Rita. I say when I do or don't," I reminded her. Her pussy was leaking again, the thick drops of cream oozing down her slit and dripping into the crotch of my jeans.
"Get that napkin and stuff it between us," I ordered her. Rita let go of my neck and reached behind her, retrieving the very napkin she had given me for my breakfast meal.
"Keep your hands right there," I told her when she had done that. "Let's see you get off, Mom, by rubbing your clit."
Rita groaned as my fingers began to dance rhythmically in and out of her now slick ass. Her own fingers took up the same rhythm, only at two or three times the pace. She leaned back against the table as she strummed her clitoris, forcing me to lean forward as well to keep my fingers going as deep into her rectum as they were before.
Then mother began to chant her mantra of filthy language, slowly at first and barely a whisper.
"You sweet bastard," she started, her voice hoarse and quivering as her ass barely convulsed around my fingers.
Every time her checks would tighten, Rita's fingers would slide down from mauling her clit and she'd bury two of them quickly into her wet cunt. Her pussy would grip them, at first in brief waves. Then, when she was done, her fingers would slide back out, slick with her spending, to begin once more her rapid clit flicks.
"Fingerfuck me," Rita growled, her head rolling back as a spasm passed through her.
"Fuck my ass, you bastard!" she sputtered in a low, guttural snarl. She began to shake on my lap, tossing her head from side to side as the sensation overwhelmed her. The napkin, wedged between us, was becoming damp in the middle.
With my off hand I reached forward, catching Rita's nipple between my thumb and forefinger. I rolled the thick, fleshy protrusion first one way and then the other. Rita's eyes stared into mine when they could, though mostly they were shuttering open and closed from the deep sensations our hands were causing in her body.
"You rough motherfucker," Rita wailed, trying mightily as she did to press her ass harder down on my fingers. She had no leverage though, suspended on my lap as she was, so she couldn't thrust or flail against me.
My hands on her breasts did seem rough and coarse on her soft skin. Wishing for a moment I had more butter to coat them with, I got another inspiration of something new to try instead.
Even as mother threw her head back to begin to mutter more curses, I filled her mouth with two fingers from the hand that has been at her breast. Rita's mouth latched onto the fingers in mid-sentence, sucking them desperately as if a babe sucking for sustenance.
Mother's strong reactions, her deep passions, stirred me up inside too. Feeling her mouth draw at my fingers, feeling her anus clenching and clutching at my other fingers, all of these new sensations agitated and aroused me more than I had ever considered. Her desire and the intensity of her excitement seemed near limitless as her stuffed lips continued to try to hurl invectives when her climaxes passed like strong waves now at regular intervals.
Finally even Rita's capacity to continue was reached and filled. She began to strain at each wave, until I slowed down first gradually, then to a crawl, until finally my fingers grew still inside my sensual woman.
She did look every part the whore as she whimpered on my lap and I withdrew my fingers from her mouth. Those in her bottom, I kept inside for a moment.
"Will you be good today, Rita?" I asked her calmly.
"If I don't, will you promise to spank me?" she asked tired, but seductive. Her randy nature, though satisfied for now, was still thinking the future.
"No, Mother," I chuckled, seeing the obvious trap. "If I promised to spank you, that would only guarantee you wouldn't be good."
She smiled, seeing I was onto her tricks, and squirmed her hips as much as was possible.
"How's this, Rita? I promise to spank you soundly if you manage to be good today. Would that give you some incentive?" I asked her, both of us grinning satisfied at one another.
Leaning forward, for the first time Rita initiated a kiss between us. Her lips were soft against mine, her tongue lightly rubbing my teeth and then withdrawing like some bashful schoolgirl.
"You're so good for me, Robert," she mewled like a contented feline. "I hadn't realized all that I had been missing."
"Some of what you used to go through you'll have to continue to miss, Rita. Remember you're mine now, body and soul."
"Of course, dear," she practically purred as she moved her shoulders gently from side to side, causing her still erect nipples to graze my chest.
"You're making me late, woman," I said to her, pretending to be cross. We both knew better though, each breaking out into a grin at about the same time.
Rita eased up as far as she could and I slowly extracted my long fingers that had still been buried up inside her warm, well-lubricated rectum. Rita grunted and winced as I pulled them slowly out, assuring me that she'd have a reminder of our time together during work all day. She caught my hand in her two hands and went as if to clean my fingers in her mouth until I stopped her.
"No, mother," I said sternly. "If you want to help me clean up, I'd welcome that. But let's do it in the sink. I want to kiss that mouth goodbye in just a moment."
So Rita scrubbed my hands in the sink as I leaned heavily against her, my erect cock pressing into her soft, naked ass. I ground her slowly but firmly against the cabinet of the sink, increasing my sexual frustration and prolonging the amount of time mother spent washing my hands. When I was done, I spun Rita around and used her breasts and hair to dry my hands with. Then I took the sides of her face in both hands and left her with a kiss she'd not forget all day.
Even though I was a little late driving to work that morning, I felt good about things; better than I had since all this had started happening two days ago. Rita and I were both adjusting to our new life together and she seemed to have accepted the realignment of our little family unit.
Joe wasn't mad about my being late, though he seemed at first to be angry with me.
"Son, go wash up before you get to work like that," he said, feigning disgust.
At first I thought he could smell Rita's pussy juice that had practically permeated the crotch of my thick denim jeans. Then he broke out into a wide smile and said, "It just ain't right for a young kid like you to have such a shit-eatin' grin so early in the morning!"
But after the first round of ribbing, Joe got quiet and distant. I could tell he was thinking about something. He stepped away from the site for twenty minutes and seemed to be mulling over something in his head. Every now and then, I'd catch him looking sideways at me, but I couldn't tell what it was about.
During the first break before ten o' clock, Joe pulled me to the side where no one else could hear us.
"I've got something I want you to do for me, Robert," he said seriously. "My wife is lookin' to have some shelves put up in our den. I want you to go take the measurements and figure out just how much boardfeet we're gonna need to do the job right. Don't worry about things here, I'll cover for ya and you'll still be on the clock. It'll probably take the rest of the day, though."
Not only was it strange for Joe to send me out, but he was acting strange too, kinda quiet and more subdued than generally was his nature. After I had gotten my tools, Joe walked with me out to my truck for a final word about the job.
"Since I'll be coverin' for ya here, I hope you understand that you're not supposed to talk about this job with any of the other fellas out here. 'Specially not tomorrow. I expect you to be on time tomorrow, too. Just because you're doin' me a favor, don't mean you can hold anything over my head or anything."
Looking my foreman in the eye, I shook his hand and told him, "Joe, I consider you a friend as well as my boss. I wouldn't do that to a friend."
Joe nodded and gave me a sheepish grin. Then he mumbled something about, "Guess I made the best choice then," and took off.
I'd been by Joe's house a few times before to pick up tools and deliver this and that. When I'd first started out with Joe's crew I had been low man on the totem pole. As such, I'd been given a lot of grunt work to do, including most of the heavy loading and heavy lifting. That's one of the reasons I'd gotten in shape so fast over the last year or so. Hauling brick and lumber as well as lifting hundred pound sacks of concrete all day would do that, even for a redheaded stringbean like I had started out being.
Before I rang Joe's door, I brushed off as much dirt and dust as I could from my jeans and shirt. I hadn't gotten too messed up for the couple hours I worked this morning so far, but I wasn't spic and span either.
Joe's wife answered the door and I realized that it was the first time I'd ever seen her. She was a more mature version of his skinny blonde-haired daughter. She was a little shorter than the girl, at about 5'5", and almost as slender, though she had a bit wider hips and a bit more on top. She wore a fairly short denim skirt and a bright white halter that her nipples looked like they were poking through.
She introduced herself as Angie as we stood in her doorway before she let me in. Angie's hips were cocked out suggestively and as she reached forward to shake my hand, sh
e had to transfer a drink into her other hand to do it. It seemed early in the day to be drinking alcoholic beverages. Then again, as someone that didn't drink at all, what did I know about it?
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone